A Girl's Guide to Moving On (17 page)

I bit into my bottom lip, not knowing what to say or if I should speak. His words watered my soul.

“First time I see you in classroom, I think this beautiful woman,” he continued. “More times I see you, I learn better English. I learn more of you and every time I learn more of you my heart fills up until you are always with me. You are with me in my sleep; at my work you with me.” He paused and placed his hand over his chest. “In my heart you with me.”

He threaded his fingers through my hair, twisting my head up until I had no choice but to look at him. “When I see you on Saturday I think it easy to forget you. I put you out of my head. I think it easy, but now I know it not possible.”

“It's been a long time since I felt loved or loveable,” I whispered, wanting him to understand.

“This man you marry…”

“The pimple on a log,” I added, smiling.

“Yes, this pimple-on-log man, he foolish more than me. He let you go; he no love you. I never stop, I can't. I know I will never be same man without my Leanne.”

There was no holding back the tears now.

He held me close and I let him, despite the pain his embrace caused me. The ache was a small price to pay to be in Nikolai's arms.

When I arrived at school I found a long-stemmed red rose on my desk. The card attached had Rocco's name. This was a pleasant surprise. I didn't think Rocco was a flowers and chocolate kind of guy. Five minutes before class started I reached for my phone and sent him a text.

Maybe I had a secret admirer, but that didn't make sense. Why would a secret admirer sign Rocco's name to the card? I was beginning to get the picture, and it seemed Rocco was, too.

My phone buzzed before I could type back a reply. “Hello?”

“It's me,” Rocco returned. “I figured it was better to talk this out than do it by text.”

“So you didn't send the rose?”

“Yes and no.” He sounded amused. “Like I said, Kaylene asked me for a few bucks this morning, which isn't anything out of the ordinary. She's always needing money for one thing or another at school.”

“I think the choir is doing a fundraiser,” I said, remembering something I'd read in the teacher bulletin earlier in the week.

“Roses, right?”

“I think so. It was a nice gesture on her part, so thank you, even if you didn't intend for me to get the rose.” I wasn't disappointed, and I certainly didn't want Rocco to think I was.

“The thing is…” He hesitated as if unsure how to continue.

“The thing is what?” I pressed.

“Kaylene's been giving me advice.”

“Advice on what?”

“You know, on dating and such.”

“You need advice?”

He hesitated. “According to her, I do.”

If he hadn't been so serious, I would have laughed. “You realize you're getting advice from a fifteen-year-old?”

“You're right, it's ludicrous,” he muttered.

“That's very sweet, Rocco.” It said a lot about the way he felt about me, which made me want to kiss him again. I'd enjoyed the movie with him, although it'd been about a psycho killer. It'd terrified me to the point I slid so far down on the seat that I was in danger of slipping onto the floor. Rocco placed his arm around me and I hid my face in his jacket. For the rest of the movie he had his arm around me. I wasn't complaining.

“It's sweet?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“I don't know, Nichole. First ice cream, now flowers. If my guy friends hear about this, there will be no end to the razzing.”

“I have yet to meet any of your friends, male or otherwise,” I reminded him.

“You sure you're up to that?” he asked, and hedged. “I don't exactly hang with men from the country club.”

“Not a problem, Rocco. I'm into making new friends and having new experiences.” I wasn't exactly hanging with my country-club friends. Most of my so-called friends had taken Jake's side. I understood. It would be difficult to be friends with us both, and he'd stayed in the community while I'd moved away. It'd hurt to be cut off from people I'd once considered close. It was a couples world and I was single now. The truth was those so-called friends really hadn't been.

“You're serious. You'd actually be willing to meet the guys I hang with?”

“Sure. Why not?” I found it a silly question.

“Okay, Saturday night, then.”

“You're keeping your promise to Owen, aren't you?” Rocco had agreed to give Owen a ride in his tow truck on Saturday afternoon. Owen had talked of little else and even shared it with his preschool class. Owen's toy tow truck was his absolute favorite toy. My three-year-old was constantly on his hands and knees pushing that truck across the floor, making all kinds of noise in the process.

“I don't break my promises,” Rocco reminded me.

I appreciated that he was a man of his word. “I'll need to find a babysitter for Saturday night; Leanne is still under the weather or I'd ask her.”

“Kaylene can watch Owen.”

“You'd better check with her before you commit her,” I reminded him. Kaylene had a mind of her own and wouldn't appreciate her father volunteering her services.

“Will do,” he said.

Students began filing into the classroom, and while I would have liked to continue our chat I couldn't. “I've got to go.”

“Yeah, me, too. See you tomorrow.”

“I'll call you once Owen is up from his nap.”

“Bye. Enjoy that rose.”

I was smiling when I disconnected.

Saturday afternoon I met Rocco in his company parking lot. He'd mentioned earlier that he was the sole owner of Potter Towing, but I hadn't a clue how large the business was. He had a fleet of about ten tow trucks in various sizes, and those were just the ones in the lot. More had to be out on jobs. Before he took us outside, Rocco gave Owen and me a tour of the garages and the office. I met a couple of his crew and I had to admit they were a tough-looking crowd. It wasn't until later that Rocco told me a few of the men he'd hired were on work release. They needed a second chance and he'd given it to them.

“Is this where Shawntelle sits?” I asked when I saw the glassed-in office.

“Yes.” He frowned when I mentioned her name.

“Is there a problem with Shawntelle?” I hoped not, seeing how badly she needed the job.

“Not really. The woman seems to have an opinion on just about everything. She had a run-in with one of my drivers because he didn't hand over his time card. I heard her giving the poor guy hell the other day. It worked, though. Jerome gave it to her first thing this morning.”

“In other words, she's doing a good job for you.” I had known Shawntelle would and was grateful to hear it.

“Yes, and she's keeping the books balanced, too, which is a lot better than my previous bookkeeper.”

Owen tugged at my leg, growing impatient. “I think Owen is ready for his ride,” I said.

Rocco looked down at my son. “Well, first off, he needs a uniform.”

“A uniform?” Rocco hadn't mentioned that earlier. If he had I would have seen to it before now.

“No worries, the shop provides those.” He walked over to a locker and removed a sack. Inside was a striped coverall that zipped up the front in Owen's size.

I watched as my son's eyes rounded with delight. “Fo me?”

“Let's make sure it fits first,” Rocco said. He got down on his knees next to Owen and unzipped the suit so my three-year-old could step into it, one foot at a time. The fit was perfect. Owen thrust his small chest out with pride and rubbed his hands down his front. He wore the biggest smile I could ever remember seeing.

“Wook, Mommy, wook,” he said, twirling around.

“I see. You're a real tow-truck driver now. It's official.”

“Official,” Owen repeated.

“You ready to drive your rig?” Rocco asked.

Owen nodded eagerly.

“Follow me.” He held out his hand and Owen placed his much smaller one in Rocco's huge one.

I traipsed along behind, excited for my son. Rocco lifted him up and set Owen inside the biggest tow truck on the lot. He'd explained earlier that this larger tow truck was used for hauling eighteen-wheelers. Rocco climbed in after him and then set Owen on his lap.

“Ready?” he asked Owen.

“Weady,” Owen repeated.

“Turn the key to start the engine.”

Owen leaned forward, stretching as far as his short arms would allow, and turned the ignition key. The truck roared to life and Owen squealed with delight. I stepped back and watched as Rocco drove with my son in his lap around the parking lot. Owen's small hands gripped the steering wheel along with Rocco's much larger ones. My son's eyes were bright and intense. I lost count of the number of circles they made before Rocco pulled the rig into the designated spot. Once the engine was turned off, Owen clapped with delight, happier than a pig in mud.

Later Saturday evening, Rocco was going to drop Kaylene off to watch Owen while the two of us went out. He hadn't mentioned where we were going, but he had said we'd be meeting a few of his friends. This seemed like a big deal to him, although I wasn't completely sure why. I had to believe this was more about him than me.

I dressed in my skinny jeans and a V-neck pink sweater with a white cowl and my cowboy boots. I'd spent two hundred and fifty dollars for those boots when Jake and I were married. I couldn't imagine spending that amount of money on any single clothing item now. One time, just before I learned Jake had been cheating on me, I bought a designer purse for seven hundred dollars. When I left Jake, I hadn't taken into account the consequences of my financial situation. I knew the divorce had hit Jake hard, too. In a petty way, that made me glad. Maybe he'd have less money to spend on other women.

I checked my reflection in the bedroom mirror and was satisfied. I could use a haircut, but that would need to wait until my next paycheck.

The doorbell chimed and Owen raced into the living room ahead of me. His face broke into a huge smile when he saw Kaylene and Rocco.

“How's it going, little man?” Rocco asked, bending down and extending his palm.

Owen's arm did a complete three-hundred-and-sixty-degree swing before he slapped his hand against Rocco's open palm.

“Thanks, Kaylene,” I said. “Owen's had his dinner and there's ice cream for later, but only if he's good.”

“I wike ice cream,” Owen said.

“Me, too,” Kaylene added.

“Tell her to wead me stories,” Owen reminded me.

I looked to Kaylene. “Oh yes, there's a big stack of books. He likes to be read to at bedtime.”

“Will do,” the teenager promised.

I grabbed my coat and purse and we left within a few minutes of their arrival. Rocco seemed nervous. “You okay?” I asked, once outside the apartment.

“Sure.”

“You're fidgeting.”

“Am not,” he argued.

“Listen, Rocco, if you'd rather I not meet your friends, it's fine.”

He hesitated in front of the elevator. “I've never introduced them to a woman before. They might say something to embarrass you.”

“Hey, I'm a big girl. I can handle myself, so quit worrying.”

He studied me and then slowly nodded. “If you're sure, then okay. Let's do this, but don't say I didn't warn you.”

He made it sound like we were about to cross into uncharted territory, and perhaps for him we were. I remember him telling me that he'd never married Kaylene's mother and that he didn't do relationships. I wasn't sure if we were even in a relationship. We did things together and he'd been a good friend, but this was the first time we were going out just the two of us. Technically, this was our first date. I hadn't realized it until that moment. It felt like I'd known him forever, but all the time we'd spent together other people had been involved.

Once outside my apartment building, we walked to where Rocco had parked. He opened the door to his truck and helped me inside.

When he joined me I asked, “Is this a date?”

He placed his hands on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. “I don't know. Is it?”

“It feels like one.”

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

“What?” I asked, not understanding his strange behavior.

“I don't date.”

I laughed, which was probably not the wisest response. “Okay. What would you like to call this, then?”

“Do we need to call it anything?”

Good question.
“I suppose not. You're taking me to meet your friends and we'll leave it at that.”

“Fair enough.”

He was still nervous, though. I could see it in the way he gripped the steering wheel and how he bounced his knee when stopped at red lights. I was curious about his
I don't date
statement. “If you don't date, then what do you call it when you take out a woman?”