Page 95 of Her Goal
After thanking Bonnie, we walk down the main fairway, and he asks, “Is there anything else you want to do while we’re here? Fair food? Games? Rides?”
Still a little heady from the Gravitron and perhaps the changing room and maybe from the way Hudson keeps looking at me, I say, “I’m good. How about you?” No sooner are the words out of my mouth, I hesitate because I don’t want tonight to be over.
Hudson says, “If I remember, you were always good at numbers.”
I’m kind of being obtuse because I’m afraid of where this might go when I reply, “I was going to go to college to study accounting, but I couldn’t afford it. I was told it would be a waste of my intellect if I didn’t. However, no matter how good I was with math, I couldn’t make money appear and didn’t want to go into debt.”
“Would you have been happy in that field?”
“I can’t be sure, since I never tried it, though probably not. These legs weren’t made for sitting at a desk in front of a computer.”
Hudson laughs and I jab him.
He holds up his hands in surrender. “I was agreeing.”
We stop when a child with a balloon bouquet runs headlong through us, battering us with the helium spheres.
When we’re in the clear, Hudson asks, “Would you have wanted to continue skating?” It’s not lost on me that we didn’t resume the marriage discussion.
“Maybe. My mind is always speeding. When I’m skating, it’s the one time I can keep pace with myself. I’m not sure why I’m telling you this.” I continue, anyway. “When skating, the strangest thing happens. Eventually, my thoughts go quiet. My head still gets crowded like that at times. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten used to it and have learned how to keep the noise down a bit.”
Hudson simply listens and nods as I speak. I can’t be sure if he understands, but he doesn’t offer three easy steps to quellthe clatter, remove the clutter, or tame the sense of rushing overwhelm I feel periodically. The social awkwardness, the shift in my moods when I feel like my head is too loud. I don’t get the sense that he’s going to offer life hacks online or try to sell me a program. He is just present. I appreciate that.
In fact, I’m grateful that he came here tonight and went on this date with me. However, he didn’t officially ask, at least not initially. No one has. Not even the guys he set me up with. They were just along for the ride.
Nothing new there.
Hudson asks, “When was the last time you had this much fun?”
We reach the carnival’s exit and I still haven’t answered.
“I thought you were good with numbers or are you still doing the calculations?”
I mock laugh dryly. The truth is, I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun. Certainly, never with Hunter. Probably at one of my many family gatherings. But it’s different when with someone who could be relationship material.
I can’t bring myself to speak because that would be admitting something bigger than I can comprehend right now. It would expose the emails. Flip on its head the way I’ve always thought of Hudson.
“Can I walk you to your car?” he asks.
“We’re already going in that direction.”
The carnival sounds grow distant as we get closer to the field where I parked my car and my head gets noisier. I stop by the door and say, “Thanks for setting me up on the date with Grimaldi.”
Hudson’s expression darkens. “What do you mean?”
“If you hadn’t, I would be wondering what his first name is …” But I can’t keep a straight face because I don’t care in the slightest.
This night has flown by and I blame the butterflies in my belly. They’re stronger than they look, carrying me off to a world where things between Hudson and me could be a possibility.
He wears his patent half-smile. “I know what his name is.”
“Oh, yeah? Are you going to tell me? And don’t you dare say if I kiss you.”
“What would you do if I kissed you?”
“I don’t know.”
“When you figure it out, you know where to find me.” He winks and walks away.
