Page 29 of Just A Trip

I narrow my eyes. “Are you sure about that no?”

“Yes?”

“Okay.” Smirking, I hop out of the booth. I’ll let him out of this one. But I’m still turning on some music.

I take my time at the jukebox, flipping pages until a song catches my eye.

Endless Loveby Lionel Richie and Diana Ross.

“That’s a good one,” a man says to my left.

I jump, glancing over at the older man. He looks like he’s in his late seventies but is very put together in his plaid dress shirt and slacks. His white hair is gelled with a perfect swoosh up top. “My sweetheart and I always danced to that song,” he says, seeming lost in thought.

“Then it’s perfect.” I put in my money and select the song. “Why don’t you dance with her?”

“Oh.” The older man’s face goes red. He blinks but can’t seem to clear his watery eyes. “I wish I could. I wish I could.”

My heart plummets. “Oh, I’m…so sorry. I didn’t…would you like to dance with me?”

He blinks and a precious tear slips through the wrinkles below his eyes. “I would love that.”

I hold out a hand. “Well, come on.”

I grab his hands and together we sway while he tells me all about his late wife Kara who passed away six years ago. Every Wednesday before she died, they came here and ate waffles. And he still carries on that tradition. His voice breaks as he recounts her long fight with cancer, but life comes back to his eyes when he mentions that his two sons are bringing their families over for Thanksgiving.

The music continues long after it should and I look over to see Trent feeding the machine more money.

Finally, Ralph complains about his arthritis and says he needs to sit down.

“Thank you for letting me dance again,” he says with a kiss on my cheek. Then he shuffles back to his seat, alone.

He and I aren’t so different.

Maybe I’ll find myself back here on a random Wednesday morning and stop in to say hi.

“May I have this dance?”

I spin around to find Trent standing there, hand outstretched. “I thought you said no.” I hesitate only a moment before slipping my hand into his.

He pulls me into him, holding me much closer than Ralph did. “I realized I was wrong.”

“Were you jealous?” I tease.

“Maybe I just like the song.” He shifts his hand on my back, the movement stirring the scent of his cologne into the tiny space between us.

“I thought you didn’t have a favorite song,” I say, my voice coming out almost breathless.

“I do now.” His eyes are telling me things right now, but what exactly, I couldn’t say.

“Well, you’ll have to impress me, Ralph was quite the charmer.” “I believe it.” He spins me out, but a waiter walks by with a pile of pancakes and Trent yanks me back in.

I’m laughing as I face him again, but Trent’s expression is serious.

“Karli, what do your butterflies mean?” His voice is rougher than it was mere seconds ago.

It takes me a moment to remember I showed him that tattoo.

I swallow. Do I tell him? I’ve known him for less than twenty-four hours, yet I already know that if I confide this thing to him, he won’t belittle me like my mother would. I feel safe sharing this secret with him. But that doesn’t make it easy to do.

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