14 Days, 7 Prompts, 1 Story (Feb 2010)

En Garde

From one heartbeat to the next John turned serious.  “Thank you Tory.  I didn’t know how much I needed this.”  He held her gaze, those brilliant topaz eyes glowing with gratitude and something else.  Oh my.  The moment stretched. 

“Sympathy for the Devil?  I prefer Paint it Black myself,” he said musingly, tilting his head towards her backpack. Where, sure enough, her phone was ringing.  “But I suppose you couldn’t be perfect.”  Taking a swig of her milkshake, he hummed her ring tone.

“Says who?  I think that says more about your lack of taste than mine.”  Taking a quick look at the caller, she swore softly.  Just when I was getting him to loosen up.  “Please forgive me, but I have to listen to this message.  It’s my grandmother.” When she got up to leave, he reached across the table and grabbed her free hand, tugging her back down.

“Stay.  I need to get up and walk around.  My leg is stiff as a board.”  Though she was tempted, she already knew better than to offer to help him stand.  The fluid way he managed made her think his injury was an old one, and still painful.

“Sure it’s only your leg?” 

He double-blinked, looking pleasantly surprised, then gave her a nicely turned out bow, cane and all.  “Touché.”  Touching her shoulder briefly on his way past the table, John asked, “Should check back in five?”  Tory nodded and he walked away.  And what a sight that was.  Whoever stood him up was an idiot. 

--

Should’ve brought an umbrella.  Instead he’d been pacing under the front awning, undoubtedly scaring away customers.  His damn leg was acting up.  Then again, he was the idiot who sat in the same position for hours. 

He’d wanted give her ten minutes, to be safe.  Shivering from the cold, he looked at his watch and decided that eight was enough. I’ve done nothing but stare at this penguin all day.  The thought had him chuckling wryly. 

“John?”  Tory peeked her head out the door.  He waved from his corner. “It’s raining, come back inside.” 

Back at the booth he couldn’t figure out a polite way to ask if everything was alright.  Ah hell.  He’d just ask.  “Everything ok?”

“She was just lonely.  Wanted to tell me how Basil attacked the mailman.”  She laughed.  “Vicious attack-kitty. Rawr.”  Tory clawed her hands in imitation but was laughing too hard to continue.  “I love that cat, I really do.  I mean, can you imagine?  He weighs six pounds at most and…” 

It hit John suddenly.  He felt himself flush from head to toe.  Holy shit, I really like this girl.  The discovery blindsided him, and he missed the tail end of the story.

“But I always pick up the phone when Nana calls, because you never know.”  A long silence stretched between them.  Man up and ask her out.  He didn’t know how though. 

“John?”

“Yeah?”

“How about we get out of here? Get a drink maybe?”  Tory smiled shyly at him.  Maybe he wasn’t the only one.

“I’d love that.”