She pulled into the parking lot. She got a great spot right next to the handicapped stall. The “filet mignon” of parking spaces. Good sign. She went into the restaurant ten minutes early to be sure she was the first to arrive. But the sheriff was already sitting at the good table by the window. She guessed he got there twenty minutes early and tipped Mr. Wong a few extra dollars to get the best seat in the house.
The sheriff didn’t see her. Not at first. So, she took a moment to study him. Kate Reese knew that people were themselves when they didn’t know someone was watching. Like her husband when she came home and found him talking to the wall. Or Jerry when she came home and saw him with an empty six-pack. She had been hurt too many times to not take this thirty seconds to cram for the date as if it were a final exam.
The sheriff didn’t look at his phone. He didn’t read the menu. Instead, he scanned the room. Over and over. As if by habit. Seeing if there was any threat. Seeing if there was anyone suspicious. Maybe it was just his police training, but she thought it was more than that. Some kind of primal response to a world he knew to be dangerous. A world she knew as well. He was a real man. Solid. Blue-collar handsome. Sexy in the way that workingmen can be.
And those hands.
Kate Reese was not a sentimental woman about anything except her son. But she was partial to hands. Call it what you will. That’s what she liked. She liked real men with strong hands that could make her feel held.
The sheriff had beautiful hands.
And he was blowing on them.
His hands are sweating. He’s nervous.
“Hi, Sheriff.” She waved.
“Oh, hi,” he said a little too eagerly and stood up.
Instinctively, he wiped his hands off on his dress pants and shook hers. His hand was smooth and dry and strong.
“I got us a table by the window. I hope that’s okay,” he said.
“It’s great.”
He got up and pulled her chair out for her. She couldn’t believe it. Her husband used to do that for her. It hadn’t happened since.
“Thank you,” she said.
She took off her jacket, revealing the designer dress, and took her seat.
“You’re welcome. You look beautiful. That’s some dress,” he said.
“Seventy-two fifty at the outlet mall,” she said.
Shit. Why am I telling him this?
“Clearance rack. The shoes, too,” she added.
Stop talking, Kate.
It hung in the air for a moment. And then, the sheriff smiled.
“Which outlet mall? Grove City?” he asked.
She nodded.
“That’s the best one. I get all my clothes there,” he said matter-of-factly.
And with that, Kate Reese settled into the greatest first date she’d had since Christopher’s father. She never brought up Jerry. She didn’t even think of him. The old Kate Reese who put up with Jerry was wearing that interview blazer with the hole under the arm. The new Kate Reese was in a beautiful designer dress with a man with great hands that he kept blowing on all through dinner because for once in her life, a man was nervous to impress her. Instead of the other way around.
Chapter 24
When Christopher called his mom, he was confused. She hadn’t picked up their home phone. She picked up her new cell phone. And the music in the background didn’t sound like television at home. It sounded like restaurant music.
“Hello, Mom?” he said.
“Hi, honey.”
“Where are you?” Christopher asked.
“China Gate.”
“Are you alone?” he asked, already suspecting the answer.
“No. I’m here with a friend.”
Christopher knew what that meant. She always called a new guy she was dating a “friend.” She made sure not to give him a name until it became more serious. He remembered when they were in Michigan. After a month of not talking about it, she finally said her friend’s name was Jerry.
“Oh. That’s nice,” Christopher said.
“What about you? You having fun? Enjoying your sleepover?”
“Yeah. But I miss you,” Christopher said.
“I miss you, too, honey.”
“Maybe after church tomorrow, we can do something fun,” he said.
“Sure, honey. Whatever you want. Dave & Buster’s even.”
“Okay, Mom. I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too, honey. See you tomorrow.”
With that, they hung up. And there was silence.
Christopher handed the phone to Special Ed and returned to work. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mike and Matt text their moms from Special Ed’s mom’s phone (which Eddie smartly “lost” for