Note: My first story. I hope you like it.
Remi meets Alan.
My mind raced as I drove home. What would I tell John if he even noticed I had been out all day?
Alan had said, "Thank you," when he dropped me off. Thank you--is that what it was, what I was, a thank you? I hoped not. I want to be "It's nice to see you again;" and again.
How had my day taken such a turn when it started like so many others? The holidays were over, and I was returning to my old routine, hoping this year would be different.
I stopped to find a book recommended by my friend Patti; the staff was already busy decorating the store for Valentine's Day.
Everyone heard when he entered, banging the snow off his boots. How dramatic, I thought, it was hardly snowing--just an inch or so.
I'm sure I wasn't the only one thinking he must be looking for the hardware store next door.
He caught me looking and headed my way. I turned to move out of sight and collided with an employee carrying a stack of books.
Now, everyone was looking at me as the books crashed to the floor.
He stopped to help pick up the books as I apologized and waited for a chance to slip away.
"Is anyone hurt?" he joked, looking my way.
The store clerk laughed and said she was "okay."
As the last book was rounded up, I thanked him for helping and apologized to the clerk again. Then, as quickly as possible, I was down the aisle and out of sight.
I heard him ask about new fiction and saw him pass by my hiding spot as he strode to the latest arrivals.
A few minutes later, I spied him again, browsing historical fiction, not that I was looking for him.
He caught me looking again, but I didn't immediately look away this time, and our eyes met. We looked at each other momentarily, and then I returned to the bookshelves.
Was there sadness in his eyes, I wondered?
He stepped towards me and asked, "Can you recommend a good one?" pointing to the rows of romance novels before me.
"Oh no," I said, "Just looking for a gift for a friend," as I tried to squeeze past him.
But he reached out and touched my arm, lifting his other arm straight.
"I'm just making sure the path is clear," he said. "We can't afford another collision; they'll toss you out, and then who would I talk to?"
His touch surprised me. It was just a few fingers near my elbow, but protective, not threatening.
"Very funny," I replied, a little flustered, and moved across the store into another section.
I tried to refocus on why I had stopped at the bookstore. I had finished my workout an hour earlier as if anyone would have noticed. John doesn't seem to care anymore. I fear that part of our life is over. But I wish it wasn't, at least not for me.
So here I was, looking for a book. I hoped it would be in the romance section, but I was too embarrassed to ask. Is there really a "Wall-Banger" series of books? Patti had said it was an erotic romance series with more action than usual.
"More sex and less character development" is what she actually said.
I hated myself at the moment. I knew I was fortunate and had so much, but I was also bored and lonely at times. What was my life missing, I wondered.
Well, it was apparent that this cute little shop didn't have that title, but maybe I could find something else to distract me, I thought.
He stood before the Greek mythology section as I turned down the aisle.
He smiled when he saw me and said, "As fate would have it, we are destined to meet." Nodding to the books as if we were characters in a fable.
I tried to remember anything about the Greek gods from the single elective I took at college.
"Watch out, or I may turn you to stone," I said, hoping I was referring to some goddess.
"Oh, you're no Medusa," he said, standing beside me.
He reached for a book about Aphrodite.
"More like the Goddess of love and beauty," he grinned.
Our hands touched when he lowered his arm, and he didn't make any effort to move.
It would have been too awkward for me to move away, so I pretended to browse the Gods. I was trying to casually ignore him, as my pulse quickened.
Was this the distraction I was looking for? I wondered.
Before he could say anything else, I announced, "I couldn't find a gift," and turned to leave.
But he was right behind me when I reached the door and offered to buy coffee.
I hesitated and mumbled something about getting home, but he sensed it was a lie. John had said he might stop at his office, so I was free until dinner. I could use a little pick me up, so I agreed.
He told me his name was Alan, and I told him I was Remi.
Next door, he got the coffee and a muffin for me. He explained that he had to eat gluten-free and that these small shops were a little like Russian roulette.
I have always loved baking and wondered how hard it would be to make gluten-free sweets, but why was I wondering if I could please this man I had just met?
He kept his eyes on me while I looked around to see if anyone I knew was watching.
I didn't recognize anyone, not even the woman I saw reflected in the framed painting on the wall behind Alan. What was I doing here? I've been lonely but where was this conversation leading, I wondered.
Alan made me laugh when he described my face after I practically knocked over the store clerk.
He asked if I noticed the books that fell were part of the Self-Help section and explained that a graphic novel about the joy of group sex had fallen open on the floor.
He teased me that "he'd assumed I was so interested in getting my hands on that book that I had practically tackled the clerk."
He said, "he was thrilled to see that level of enthusiasm from such a beautiful woman."
I laughed and noted that this was the second time he had called me beautiful. What were his intentions?
"My wild and crazy days are behind me," I said. And it was sadly true. When I met John, I was full of life and adventure. At that time, I would have tried anything once. And I mean anything.
We talked about the books we read. My books have always been inspiring novels; I certainly didn't mention the book I had been looking for.
His were about lost loves, missed opportunities, and regret.
Alan turned out to be surprisingly easy to talk with.
"Talking is easy. Finding someone to speak with is my challenge," he said
With that, I knew it wasn't sadness in his eyes; he was alone. Lonely, like me.
I reached for the sugar, but Alan intercepted my hand to admire the bracelet my daughter had given me for Christmas. He held my hand just a moment too long as my heart rate quickened again.
His touch felt familiar, like reuniting with an old friend.
I didn't tell him any intimate details, but said "I was married and didn't live far from here."
"Our daughter returned to school after the holidays," I included.
I hardly told him anything, but he understood I was a little bored and hopeful of some change in the new year.
He told me he had recently lost everything he had worked for.
Alan explained that he had lost his wife after a long illness. His kids stayed home for a while following his wife's final service, but he was soon saying goodbye to them as they returned to their careers.
When he returned to work, he learned his employer had sold to a Private Equity company. A reorganization was planned, and he was invited to an "all-hands" meeting the following week to meet his new bosses.
Except for their mixed lab, there was no one at home.
"It's been a big change to get used to," he said "and a lot of loss."
But he assured me he was committed to starting again.
I told Alan that after my daughter started college, I had attempted to rejoin the workforce, but all that was offered to me were receptionist and admin positions.
I hadn't graduated with a 3.5 GPA to answer phones, and financially, I didn't really need to work. John made a good living, and following my father's death, we had no debt.
The pandemic and his wife's illness had isolated Alan more than he realized, so as he ventured out to restart his life, he was lacking the requisite social skills. No clubs, no social media presence; his only hobbies were reading and walking the dog.
He'd joined a couple of book clubs but hated the books they selected.
After focusing on being a husband, a dad, a provider, and a caregiver, he'd learned that these skills were rarely needed today. He was searching for a way to end his loneliness and restart his life.
I told him I had left my job to raise my daughter and have a larger family. However, a second child never materialized, and I felt that John's heart wasn't into a bigger family; can attitude influence a pregnancy, I'd often wondered.
To gain fulfilling employment again, I needed to update my skills, too. My marketing degree arrived just prior to the online-internet explosion.
I made Alan laugh when I admitted telling my first boss, "The internet is just a fad, and we should keep mailing out the tri-color brochures I designed."
This wasn't the only time my bravado had worked against me. When John joined the golf club, my outspokenness and sarcastic wit weren't well received by the other club wives.
But I didn't care. I had a few good friends, like Patti, whose book recommendation somehow led me to coffee with Alan.
And like Alan, I could use an upgrade on my social skills as well.
As we spoke, our coffees went cold, but I no longer needed the caffeine. An hour of genuine conversation with Alan had recharged my batteries.
I believed that Alan had enjoyed himself, too, as he leaned in to consider every word I said. It had been way too long since John and I had a conversation like this.
When we finished speaking, I realized that Alan had never been looking for the hardware store; he had been looking for me!
I knew I'd leave with this man, and Alan knew it, too
