feature, it would definitely be my boobs. They’re spectacular. My deep blue eyes are a close second.
I dab a pretty gloss over my naturally pink lips and run my hands through my hair, building volume. I think an impromptu date with Sam requires something sexier than my usual pretty A-line dress. I pull the light string in Luanne’s closet and step back to consider my options. It’s a tough call. I could go for naughty school teacher, naughty secretary, or slutty Jazzercise instructor. Hmm… I pull a blue halter-style dress from the closet that’ll show a good amount of leg. The dress is sexy and as an added bonus, my cleavage won’t be exposed for the world to see. A rarity for Luanne’s wardrobe.
I let the cotton material float down over my stomach, which is full of over-excited butterflies. My black pumps sit high up on a shelf in the closet, a place of honor for them. Their red bottoms smile at me as I bring them down, admiring the intricate craftsmanship of the dainty stitching. These shoes are perhaps the best thing to come out of my relationship with Tim. He bought them for me on a work trip to Paris and I was ecstatic when I lifted the lid from the box. I’d been so disappointed when he told me I couldn’t tag along on the trip. He said we wouldn’t be able to spend any time together because of all the meetings he had scheduled throughout the week. Of course, in retrospect his meetings were probably less about creating new jobs and more about getting blow-jobs from his client’s pretty French secretary.
I give my reflection a good once-over in the mirror, spinning to the side so I can see the skirt swish around my legs. That’s another benefit of living with Luanne, lots of stairs to walk up and down each day. My legs have never looked better. I pick up my phone and check the time, 9:45 p.m. This is ridiculous. I’m just going to head over to The Cavern and hope I can catch Sam there. Maybe it’s too loud inside the bar, and he didn’t hear his phone ring.
I grab my purse and head out of the apartment, turning the lock once I’m in the hallway. I reach out my right hand, preparing to knock on the apartment’s door, but stop myself. Every time I’ve left the apartment for the past few weeks I’ve followed the same ritual, knocking on the door for the strength to stick to my resolution, but I don’t think I need it anymore. Maybe Sam James wasn’t what I had in mind when I resolved to start dating boring, moderately attractive men, but he’s exactly the kind of man I’ve been looking for—kind, honest and capable of making my toes curl in ecstasy. I drop my hand and turn away, skipping down the stairs as a new lightness overcomes me. I don’t need any more stupid resolutions. I just need Sam.
The Cavern is as lively as ever and I have to step around a pack of sorority girls who’re loitering in the parking lot. They’ve all got their phones out, taking pictures of themselves with beer bottles held before them. Nothing says collegiate learning like the drunken Facebook post. I pull open the crooked pine door and step into a sea of rowdy patrons. I spot Luanne instantly, her bouffant up-do adding five inches to her height behind the crowded bar. Sam, on the other hand, is nowhere to be found. I move over to the bar, dodging lit cigarettes and dirty dancers, and spot a vacant stool next to Hart.
I’m starting to think Hart either lives there or has lost the use of both legs. I’ve never seen the man outside of the bar nor have I seen him stand. His bladder must be made of cast-iron.
“Hi, Hart, how’re you?” I ask, taking my seat.
Hart turns slowly toward my voice, his droopy eyes evidence of one too many tonight. “What’re you doin’ here?”
“I came to see if I could catch Sam. And I want to thank you. I thought a lot about what you said the other day, about not letting the past hold me back and having faith. It was good advice.” I sit forward on the stool, trying to hold myself steady in front of Hart who seems to be losing his battle with balance.
“Don’t know why you’d ever listen to an ol’ fool like me,”