Jay Walking (3 page)

"By the way," he says as he sticks his hand out. "I'm Jay."

I reach my shivering hand out. "Chelsea."

"You should wear gloves next time. Your hands are freezing."
 

I'm well aware, Captain Obvious.
This guy sure is cute, but so far I'm not sold on his personality. I glance at his gloveless hands.
Hypocrite.
 

"I don't wear gloves when I run. Too restricting. I stick only to the hat." He points to his head as though I have no idea what one is.

"Yeah, I'm new to this." I'm not sure what to say to this stranger. I'm not any good at chit chat, and I'm not sure what we should talk about.

"New to walking? What were you doing before? Crawling?" He laughs.

"Ha, ha, very funny." Who does this guy think he is? He may think he's a comedian, but he doesn't know me well enough to be laughing at my expense. Hell, he doesn't know me at all. What if I'm some psycho who pulls out a knife and cuts him because of his little jokes? He has no idea. Okay, I'll admit Daniel left me a tad bitter. I typically think the worst of men. Perhaps this Jay guy
is
hysterical. Many girls may find his antics silly and they giggle at every word that comes out of his mouth. Fine. I can explain myself if that makes the jokes stop. "I decided to start walking for exercise. I'm not a gym kind of girl, and running isn't something I enjoy, either."

"I love running. Been doing it since high school."

We cross the street and are only a few doors down from the coffee shop. "I need to lose some weight and thought this would be a way to start."
Don't say baby weight.

"Lose weight?" I keep looking ahead but sense him checking me out from head to toe. "No, you don't. But, either way, good for you for exercising."

I blush at the thought of Jay scoping out my body, and his suggestion I don't need to thin down. I'm sure he's only being kind, though. We arrive at the cafe and he opens the door for me. "Thanks."

The bold aroma of coffee enters my nose as we step into the shop. If someone bottled that up and sold it, they'd make a fortune. Coffee beans filling the air, gentle music playing in the background, and wood tables slipped between comfy couches — this is my element.
 

"What are you getting?" We take our place in line, and he's standing right next to me.

"Oh, just a black coffee. Trying to cut back the calories." He rolls his eyes with a smile painted on his face. Does he think it's funny I'm trying to keep the calories down? "Well, I am."

"If you say so, Chelsea." He steps to the counter and places his order - a salted caramel mocha with skim milk and no whipped cream. That's what Daniel calls a "girly drink." I rather like he's man enough to place such an order. He completes his order with a black coffee.

"No, no. I have money," I try and stop him from ordering for me. "I can buy mine. Thank you, though."

"It's only a dollar fifty."

Doesn't he understand it's not about the price? We met ten minutes ago; he doesn't need to be buying me anything. "I know, but I can pay for it."

"Fine, but she already rung me up, so hand me the cash."

I expect a bit more of a power war between us. Isn't that how this typically goes? Two people go back and forth about paying a bill until the other finally gives in and allows it?

"I'm kidding!" He must sense my shock via my dropped mouth. "It's on me."

I agree because I don't want to argue, and I only want to get the hell out of there because clearly I'm making an utter fool of myself. He pays, hands me the coffee, and says, "It was a pleasure meeting you. Maybe I'll see you again soon."

Apparently he didn't plan on sticking around either.
 
As I watch him walk out the door, I don't even get a chance to say thank you, but think, "Yeah, maybe."

"You seriously didn't ask him out?" Amber scolds me as we sit in the small lunch room. Ryan sits at the table next to us, too involved in his phone to pay any attention to us. He doesn't need to hear this conversation and my total failure of having a meaningful relationship, much less discussion, with a member of the opposite sex.

"I didn't, Amber. I talked him for like ten minutes!" I'm clueless about everyone else, but I sure don't develop a love connection after a few tiny moments. Sure, Jay is cute — super cute — but that doesn't automatically make him dating material. Besides, I fell on my ass right in front of him, which is a little detail I left out. I told Amber I bumped into him and after I said sorry, we began chatting. I'm not sure how I feel about him anyway. I suppose his sarcasm is cute, and said to anyone else, I'd be laughing. I can't decide if I think he's funny or a jerk. Even still, I can't stop thinking about him.

"Ryan! Ryan!" Amber snaps her fingers at the Mark Paul Gosselaar look alike. "Are you listening to this?"

He moves his eyes from his phone momentarily. "Trying not to."

I've never met a guy who texts as much as Ryan. He never eats lunch. He sits at the table and slides his fingers across the keyboard as though playing a fancy tune on the piano. He's the Bach of texting. I usually catch him eating a string cheese in the morning, and a bag of pretzels in the afternoon, topped off with a Mountain Dew he got from the vending machine during his daily walk there with Amber. Yep. It's like an official standing date between those two. The minute the displays on our phones change to 3:00, they rise simultaneously from their chairs and meet at the first cubicle wall to go to the vending machine. I can't call her out in front of Ryan, but hopefully at his Labor Day bash those two will finally succumb to their obvious infatuation with each other.
 

"So Chelsea's out taking a walk yesterday, literally bumps into this guy. They start chatting and he buys her coffee." Amber doesn't need to include Ryan in our conversation. He dates a different girl every other week and his daily vending machine visits with Amber is the longest relationship he's had. I don't put much weight into his thoughts.

He shrugs, never looking up from his phone. "So?" I'm sure he played football in high school with those broad shoulders.
 

"So! Would you buy a coffee for a girl you didn't like?" I'm sure Ryan purchased
something
for her on one of their vending machine dates and this is her grade school way of finding out if that means he likes her.

My heart races as I wait for a response, yet at the same time, I don't want an answer. If Ryan says no, I'm crushed and embarrassed by even thinking I may see this guy again. If he says yes, then my mind will go crazy trying to think of how to track him down again.
 

"No," he says, and my heart deflates. "But I wouldn't buy coffee anyway. Disgusting."

"That's not the point, silly!" Amber's voice squeaks, bringing me back to fifth grade. If Ryan is as clueless as I think about Amber's feelings, he's not the one I should be getting dating advice from.
 

He tosses his phone on the table. "Fine." He scratches the five o'clock shadow on his face and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "No, I wouldn't buy a drink for someone I wasn't at least a little interested in. You should have thrown some signals his way and maybe he would have asked you out."

Did I want this guy to ask me out? I only met him momentarily and that's not a lot of time to decide if I want to spend more than an hour with someone. "Do guys like when a girl does the asking?" It's been so long — too long — since I've even entertained the opportunity of a date.

"Of course they do!" Amber jumps in. "I do it all the time."

This is true. Whenever she tells me about a night out at the bar, she usually includes some story about her approaching a man and striking up a conversation. Sometimes this leads to a phone number, or even a one-night stand, never a relationship. Though since her divorce (after a mere seven months of marriage), she's been sort of a commitment-phobe herself. If she's going to commit to anyone, I think she's hoping Ryan is the one.

"Actually, I'm asking Ryan, Amber. I figure he may be better qualified to answer, since he's a guy and all." I turn my chair toward him so I can read his reaction clearer, even though I remain skeptical of his opinion.

Ryan straightens in his chair and pulls his brows in. "Well, that depends."

"How? Either you like it or you don't." Amber interjects again, controlling the conversation as usual.
 

My blood pressure rises as I motion for her to stop interrupting. "Amber, let him talk, please."

She widens her eyes, and I sense she's a little embarrassed I scolded her in front of Ryan. Her cheeks redden as she unscrews her water and slurps it. The bottle pops as she finishes the drink and I cringe at the noise. Can't people learn to drink from a water bottle without being so loud?
 

Ryan scoots his chair out and crosses his leg. "Well, it's one thing to be forward and ask a guy on a date. It's another to be a tramp about it."

Amber is listening intently, probably taking notes in her head, possibly even reclaiming her long-lost virginity in her mind.

"How do you mean?" His answer isn't clear to me.

He rubs his hands together like he's the know-it-all on the subject. Of course, being a guy, he knows what guys like. "Okay, so if we're chatting and you touch my arm a little and casually ask me out," he touches my arm and I'm afraid to look Amber's way. "I may say yes and consider it a date. Now, on the other hand, if you hang all over me, practically groping me, I definitely won't date you." Thank God he doesn't grope me.

"I thought guys liked that kind of thing." Amber questions her approach.

"For a one-night stand, and that's all it would be."

My mind flashes back to when I met Daniel. I flirted with him hard at the bar that night, and probably fit more of the groping personality Ryan explained. Not to mention, we slept together that first night. And it went on for well over a year. Once I got pregnant, and he dumped me, it took a long time for me to understand our relationship hinged on sex. I held on for months hoping for more, and whenever he wanted to get laid, I obliged. We never once went on an actual date.
Ever
. And when my best friend kept trying to get me to take my blinders off, I refused, thinking I was in love. I know now, after seeing what she and her husband have, I wasn't in love. I craved someone to want me, and when Daniel did, I took advantage. Rather, I let
him
take advantage. And I stood by him, even when he got engaged. I mean, how much stupider could I be? Now, he's married, and has his own babies.
Babies
.
Twins.
I still Facebook stalk him. Today, I commit to stop.

"Okay, so be subtle and don't jump his bones. I can do that," I say.

Ryan's face lights up. "Now, if you want to jump his bones, I'm sure he wouldn't mind, but don't expect a call the next day." He rubs his hands together, and I want to gag. Ryan's cute and all, but not my type.

"If you see him again, Chelsea, you need to get his number. Or Facebook. Or Twitter. Or whatever. Find a way to contact him! You need a date for Ryan's party!"

"Are you coming, Chels?" Ryan asks.

"I don't know. I don't think I'll have a date."

"Lucky for you, a date isn't a requirement to attend," he clears up.

"I know, but-" Wait. I can't tell him Amber wants me to come with a date so she can hook up with him. She'll never forgive me if I say that to him. She wants him, badly, but is taking her time before making her move.

"But what?"

"But, I don't want to go alone."

Ryan glances at his phone. "Looks like lunch is over." He stands up. "Anyway, think about it. The party's not for a few months yet, so no rush."

Amber catches a glance at Ryan's butt as he walks out the door and someone I don't recognize from another department walks in. "So, do you think you'll ask him if you run into him again?"

The odds of that aren't good. A chance meeting. I doubt we'll meet again. "I'm not just going to flat out ask him. I mean, he might have a girlfriend. Or be married. It's not like I checked if he wore a ring. I'm not doing
that
again." Amber's privy to my situation and knows about Daniel and what he put me through. Even though she doesn't have kids, she understands a breakup from her short-lived marriage. I'm glad she didn't shun me as being the other woman, because I'm positive a lot of people do.
 

We head back to our desks, and my mind clutters with all the scenarios on why Jay would never want to go out with me. I can't imagine being assertive enough to ask
him
out, not to mention I'll probably never run into him again. I could shoot myself in the foot for not yelling at him to wait before he walked out the door, but who am I kidding? He never would have said yes. I suck up my failure as my phone rings, knowing all too well I'm destined to be single forever.

The next day flies by and I don't get to take my walk as planned. James is running a small fever so I stay with him and we cuddle on the couch, watching
Mickey Mouse Clubhouse
all night. Something about wrapping up in a blanket together and holding him close to me even though his body burns mine up with his fever relaxes me. Nothing compares to snuggling my baby in my arms and comforting him when he's sick. He likes to grab onto my hand and rub it and hold his blanket with the other. He finally falls asleep around nine and we sleep on the couch all night. When we wake in the morning, his fever is gone. He's "bouncing off the walls" as my mom used to say about me.
 

After an uneventful morning, my mom offers to babysit James while I get some fresh air. The temperature rose drastically to around fifty degrees, and rain is in the forecast for later, so I need to take advantage. I consider purchasing a treadmill, but the thought of staring at a wall while walking bores me to death. And who can really afford one of those that puts me in the middle of the mountains or on a picturesque beach? I skip the gloves, even though my hands got so cold the other day. I toss my earbuds in and queue up Taylor Swift. My mom plans on giving James a bath, which he absolutely loves. He enjoys when I give him a bath loaded with bubbles, but grandma always lets him splash. Splashing beats bubbles any day.