Page 45 of Caught in the Axe
“Really?” She perked up. “That’s amazing.”
With a simple nod, I tapped the steering wheel. In reality, I’d obsessively googled gluten-free restaurants in preparation for our trip. Not that I’d admit that to her. I was surprised by the sheer number I found. Maybe Maine wasn’t as backward as I’d thought.
The diner was large and decorated with mid-century kitsch and filled with locals. The booths were vinyl, the jukebox was vintage, and the place smelled incredible.
“I think I want a milkshake,” Lila said, studying themenu. Her eye makeup was smudged and her hair was falling out of its clip, but she looked as incredible as ever.
I’d always been a serial monogamist. I typically went for sophisticated women with impressive careers who were as busy as I was. Women who were, quite often, older than me.
We’d meet for dinner at hot spots, go to the symphony, or sit behind home plate at a Revs game. Nothing too cozy. Nothing too intimate. Companionship, shared interests. That kind of thing.
And it suited me just fine. I was not in the market for a wife, and I’d never been interested in having children. So at thirty-eight, I was content with the routines I’d created.
I’d never found that one great love, and I’d never had my heart broken. I’d spent my life devoted to working and doing the things I enjoyed.
It was good. It was safe and steady and convenient. No risk of failure and no need to make room in my life for the needs of another person.
But sitting here, watching her order strawberry milkshakes for both of us, it hit me. I’d blow it all up for her. It should have terrified me.
Lila wasn’t the kind of woman I could compartmentalize. She wasn’t a puzzle piece that fit just right into my busy life.
Decades of habits, opinions, and beliefs dissipated as we chatted. We laughed about Dr. Leech and his machines, about the bear meat jerky we’d seen at the mom-and-pop gas station, and about how thoroughly we’d dismantled the lawyers this morning.
“I’ve had more fun today than I’ve had in a long time,” she said. “Thank you for including me.”
“I should be thanking you. I meant what I said. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
She took a bite of her burger—on a gluten-free bun—and moaned. “Wow. that’s really good.”
I lowered my gaze to my chicken sandwich, pretending to be absorbed in my own dinner. If I got even the smallest glimpse of the look on her face that accompanied that sound, I was sure I’d throw her over my shoulder and take her back to my cabin, caveman style. It was bad enough that my pants were getting tight again.
I cleared my throat and threw out the first topic I could think of to get my mind off how badly I wanted to strip her out of her clothes and make her moan like that again. “Maine is so weird.”
“You have no idea. It’s such an oddball state. We have more coastline than California. The home of great thinkers and artists like Longfellow and Winslow Homer. And random stuff has been invented here too, like the snowmobile, the whoopie pie, and my personal favorite, ear muffs.”
I shook my head and bit into my sandwich.
“Here.” She put her burger down and reached for her phone. “I’ve got a list in my notes app. I’m so glad we went to the Leech Museum. I’ve wanted to go there forever.”
“Happy to help.”
“I made the list so I can soak up all the strange before I leave for New York.”
I held out a hand for her phone. “What else did you put on the list?” I scrolled down. “The world’s largest crank telephone in Bryant Pond? That’s not far. Same with the Moxie bottling plant. Desert of Maine? Isn’t that in Freeport?”
She nodded, picking at her burger.
“That’s close to the L.L. Bean boot and the fisherman statue. We could group a few of these together in a weekend.” The words were out of my mouth before the meaning behind them registered. “I mean you could,” I muttered, pushing the phone across the table. To keep myself from saying more, I ducked my head and shoveled several fries into my mouth.
“That sounds awesome,” she said, her eyes on her plate too.
I avoided looking at her full-on, but as I glanced up quickly, I caught sight of a faint flush creeping up her neck.
“It would be weird for me to geek out over the world’s largest rotating globe alone.”
“Right,” I said, working through our conversation, searching for deeper meaning. Was Lila interested? She was friendly and a little flirtatious at times, but I’d chalked it up to her sunny personality.
But today alone, she’d called me a fine vintage, then she’d attempted to hold my hand. I’d even caught her staring at me while Doris droned on about masturbation.
