After Working With Lucy
by Charles C. Cole
After several months apart, the friendly former co-workers, Cliff and Lucy, bumped into each other standing in line at Fielder’s Choice, a popular ice cream destination on a summer’s afternoon.
Reviewing the faces in the crowd, Cliff saw Lucy before she saw him. Seeing someone familiar wasn’t unexpected, but Lucy had recently changed jobs without looking back, accepting a new position as an ultrasound technician at a competing hospital.
“You can go ahead of me,” Cliff said to the family of four behind him. He indicated Lucy with a nod: “This young lady and I are supposed to be together.” The family was happy to oblige.
“Are we?” asked Lucy, having overheard.
“Why do you think we’re finding each other now?”
“Sorry about the bumps in the road. I heard. Relationships are hard work.”
“Some can be,” he allowed, having recently separated from his wife of 20-plus years.
“Full of melodrama and self-sacrifice.”
“And, when it works,” Cliff countered, “a safe space, where your best friend will always have your back.”
Looking away, Lucy spotted Cliff’s familiar yellow car, only two spaces from hers. “Have you been stalking me?” she teased.
“I considered it, briefly, then quickly realized my efforts would only backfire: You’d see me, get creeped out, and withdraw deeper inside your shell.”
“You’re almost as old as my father.”
“Old news. What’s more startling: a vivacious young woman dating a man twice her age or one who’s never dated in her life?”
“Maybe I was exaggerating. Some of us pride ourselves on our independence.”
“I would never take that away from you. It gives you peace of mind: to know you can shut out the rest of the world whenever you choose, and the world will never get in unless you let it.”
“Sounds perfectly perfect to me.”
“Speaking of perfect, how’s the new job?”
“Lonely. But it pays nice. And I like the work; I’m good at it.”
“I’m ordering ice cream. Then we’re going to sit at a picnic table and finally talk.”
“What’s in it for me?” Lucy joked.
“My charming company, which I know you’ve missed. And, if I can’t convince you that hanging out with me would be an improvement to your earthly existence, not a hindrance, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of your lonely life.”
“Speaking of melodrama and self-sacrifice.”
At the picnic table, Lucy started to sit opposite Cliff. “Careful! That side’s sticky. It’s safer over here, cleaner at least. I’ll slide down so you don’t feel crowded.”
“I happen to like people.”
“Just not enough to hang out with them.”
“Because they’re messy and loud and clingy.”
“Sound a bit like your preschool-aged half-siblings, from what you’ve told me.”
“Depends on how much sugar they’ve had.”
“I like you,” said Cliff.
“What is it about men and their obsession with younger women?”
“I only daydream about one woman.”
“Why?” asked Lucy. “God knows, I never encouraged you.”
“You’re smart, thoughtful, self-aware, easy on the eyes. If lilacs could talk, I bet they’d speak with your voice. You’re fragile and tough. And, for some reason, you like me. You don’t get it. You’re intrigued and skittish. I have something you want, but you can’t put your finger on it.”
“You’re a good listener.” Cliff’s eyebrows arched: And?
“Fine. One night out for two platonic friends,” Lucy offered. “We meet for dinner at a not-too-fancy restaurant, pay for ourselves, and maybe take a short walk along the river after. See if we have enough in common to keep the conversation going or if we fall into those dead-air lapses where it’s clear things are getting awkward.”
“Lucy, can I be honest? I’ve always been drawn to you, by a force I don’t understand. I only know that when you look at me, I feel like a fourteen-year old boy whose diary has been read by the very girl he’s been writing about.”
“I didn’t know you could turn into such a hopeless puppy. I liked you better when you’d be at work and everything was going crazy and you’d just laugh, like nothing could get to you.”
“I laughed because I knew you were listening from the other room. I wanted you to see I could be tough, resilient, someone who could take care of you when you needed taking care of.”
“My parents take care of me,” said Lucy.
“Only because you’re still living at home. In the real world, we realize Mommy and Daddy need to take care of each other first and foremost. And that the best thing for the health of their relationship is for the kids to grow up and move out. Take it from me.”
“I don’t need a relationship to complete me. I could never live with someone where I have to share dresser drawers, medicine cabinet space or my favorite towel. My things are my things.”
“Good to know.”
“I like you,” said Lucy, after a pause, “despite my natural resistance to getting close to people. Just not THAT way.”
“Ageism, the last prejudice.”
“What if we have fights? What if we hate each other’s favorite TV shows? What if my parents disown me?”
“I’m not worried about that,” said Cliff, suppressing a smile.
“I just need someone to talk to sometimes. But it seems like such a blind trust fall, you know? So many things could go wrong.”
“I’ve seen couples make it work.”
“My dad and my step-mother.”
“I’d be happy to be friends.”
“We ARE friends,” Lucy insisted
“One date. As friends. If we like the results, maybe a second in the distant future.”
“Okay,” she said, after careful consideration. “But no flirting, no innuendo and no touching.”
“Really?!” Cliff was cautiously optimistic.
“If you break my heart, I’ll probably never date again.”
“Or, put another way, if I win your heart, you’ll never date again.”
“You have to promise me you’ll lighten up. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Copyright © 2022 by Charles C. Cole
