He didn’t say anything more, but a small smile creased his face as he tapped the top of the car. It was almost as if he wanted to say more—something important—but held himself back.
“Drive carefully. Please call when you get home,” he said.
“I will. Thanks.”
He waved, then headed back towards his house, walked through the front door, and disappeared from her sight.
Chapter Four
Jack pulled the kitchen chair a couple feet from the table and sat in it. Ankles crossed, hunched over, he found himself staring at the basket.
An iron basket. She buys iron baskets, fills them with a bunch of shit, then gives them away. Who in the hell gifts iron baskets?
He turned it around, slowly pushing it away, then bringing it close. Examining it.
Nice workmanship. Again, who buys an iron basket in the first place though?
He cleared his throat, leaned forward and slid the soft green fabric covering to the side. The aroma of baked goods imbued the air upon exposure, a salty and sweet bouquet. He’d smelled it also when he’d rummaged through it while Kim was at his door, but he was too overcome with her unexpected presence to truly appreciate it at that time. He unwrapped one of the rolls from the parchment paper, and poked the dough. So soft. Bringing it to his nose, he sniffed it and his stomach rumbled in anticipation.
He sank his teeth into the soft bread, and it practically melted against his tongue. He chewed slowly, savoring it, then swallowed. Getting up from his seat, he poured another cup of coffee. Seemed like a good idea to add a nice, hot beverage to the mix. Then, he sat back down and finished the rest of the roll. Treasuring every bite. It definitely tasted homemade—buttery, light, and flaky, leaving a savory flavor on his palate.
“I can’t believe these are still warm after all this time, as though still fresh out of the oven. She can bake…” He searched through the basket again, taking inventory of the rest of the items. “She’s hot, too.” He burst out laughing, amusing himself as he pulled out one of the pretzels and studied it. The pastry glistened with butter and coarse salt.
“She is hot though. Nice looking lady. I’m sittin’ here holding a pretzel, talking to myself, out loud, about the woman that works at Gus’s being hot. I don’t even really like pretzels that much, but I’m going to eat this.” He paused to lick his finger. “I really need to get out more, too… losing my damn mind.”
She said she’s not married and isn’t seeing anyone. Well, that’s not what she said exactly… She actually said she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Doesn’t mean she isn’t dating anyone. Maybe they just don’t have a title, but she’s seeing someone, or she’s dating more than one guy. Who the hell knows? I’ve been so out of the dating loop, I have no idea what’s in style or not, what women are doing, or any good pickup lines. I was never into pickup lines anyway… They’re useless. Just say what’s on your mind. If you wanna go out for a drink, say that. If you want to just screw, say that, too. I wonder why she moved here of all places though?
He took another bite of the pretzel.
This one tasted better than the first.
I really want to know. I mean, did she pick up a dart, toss it at a map, and it landed on Alaska? Usually, people move here for a specific job, or for family. She could get a waitressing job anywhere, and if she had family here, I’d know about it.
She was flirting with me a little, or at least I think she was.
He shifted in the chair, his mind still wandering as he enjoyed the goodies.
She scooted away from me on the couch. Not exactly a ‘I want you’ kinda move. I guess I said the wrong shit. Wouldn’t be the first time, and damn sure won’t be the last. She was concerned but tried to play it off. I definitely wasn’t tryna scare her away. I guess I’m too honest sometimes.
He cocked his head to the side, playing back things she’d said. Repeating her words in his mind. I can’t believe she drove all the way up here. Who tha hell does that?”
He laughed again, tore another piece of the pretzel, popped it in his mouth, then put the remainder back in the basket, covering the treats once again. This time he planned to leave it alone for a while. He finished his coffee then made his way back into his living room. The fireplace had it nice and toasty. After looking at the fire for a few moments, falling into shapeless daydreams, he turned to the couch where she’d been sitting and noticed the pillow she’d been lying against had fallen on its side, crushed and threatening to hit the floor. It looked sad and dejected. Maybe it missed her, too.