And he was coming back.
I sighed and got to work, losing myself as I tried to get everything done quickly to make up for being late. When noon rolled around, I was organizing the lower shelves and straightening the chairs in the children’s section. I was so intent on my work that I had forgotten about the flowers. Coming around the front of the children’s display, I saw them sitting on the corner of the desk and felt a little flush of excitement. Just then, the bell above the door jingled and the man from the subway walked in.
He looked older today- or at least more polished. He was wearing black slacks and a button-down shirt. His dark hair, which had been a bunch of wild waves the day before, was tamed, brushed back from his forehead to make him look sleek and professional. His green eyes were the same, and I swallowed hard as I tried not to look as flustered as I felt. His eyes found me immediately, and he came to help me straighten a small table the kids had scooted off the brightly carpeted area designated for them.
“Thanks,” I awkwardly gestured at the table, and he smiled.
“No problem. Did you get the flowers?” He looked around until he saw them sitting on the edge of the front desk.
“They’re so pretty,” I said hesitantly, scrabbling to put my thoughts together. “You really didn’t have to do that, but thank you.”
He shrugged. “You helped me out, even though you didn’t know a thing about me.” He studied my face. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”
I shrugged, and we were both silent for a minute. It could be that he just pitied me. But it sure didn’t feel like that. I had no idea how to handle this. I hadn’t dated since I was eighteen years old- before my accident. Not that I was thinking of him as my boyfriend or anything, but I hadn’t talked to a good-looking guy in a really long time.
“Um…so your name is Peter?”
He smiled and held out his hand. I couldn’t help grinning in response. He had a beautiful smile… captivating. “Peter Marcellus.”
I shook his hand firmly. “Melody Westcott.”
Gesturing toward the door, he raised an elegant eyebrow. “Well, Melody Westcott, would you care to eat lunch with me?”
I nodded immediately. My parents would have a fit if they knew I was about to leave the premises with a strange man. Of course, my parents tended to overlook the fact that I was twenty-three years old and not nearly as cognitively disabled as they believed.
After I let Janice know I was leaving for lunch, Peter helped me across the threshold and out into the sunshine. Spring was just breaking. Birds were chattering, even here in town, and several of the brave Michiganders passing by wore sleeveless shits and sandals. I let out a sigh of contentment as the warm sun touched my skin. Peter paused in the threshold to snap open a pair of dark sunglasses, and I was disappointed as he hid those amazing eyes from view.
He gestured down the street toward the local park. “Would you like to eat outside?”
I smiled up at him. “Very much.” My smile faltered. “But is that okay? I mean,” I gestured to his neatly creased pants and starched shirt, “you look so nice.”
He shrugged and waved away my concerns. If it makes you smile like that, then we are eating outside.”
After that, I couldn’t do anything but smile. It turned out Peter worked at a small law firm just down the street from the Library. He had to be back to the office by one o’clock, so we grabbed a couple of hot dogs from a vendor and sat in the park watching the pigeons. He snagged a spot on a bench, in the shade of a big oak tree, and the sun cast dappled shadows on him as we chatted. I put myself directly in the sun, angling my chair so I could see Peter but still feel the warm rays on my face.
“Are you a lawyer then,” I asked curiously.
He shook his head and tossed a piece of his hotdog bun to one of the braver squirrels that had inched close to us. “I’m a paralegal, actually,” he said dismissively.
I frowned at him. “How is that different?”
He considered for a moment. “I help the lawyers prepare their cases, and I help with… investigation, fact-finding, that sort of thing.”
I smiled. “Sounds cool,” I