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A knock on the glass startled me, making me jerk upright. I turned, afraid I’d been caught by Martin or Winston. But it wasn’t. It was a handsome man with brown hair and brown eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“No.” My eyes bright, I shook my head.
“Can you roll down the window?” he asked.
This was Lakeside, not Southside. I didn’t think he meant me harm, so I pressed the button to lower the glass.
“I’m Paul Lennon,” he said and offered me his hand.
“Addy Footit.”
I placed my hand in his. His fingers closed around mine. His touch didn’t elicit a reaction, but his skin was warm and his manner was gentle.
“Why are you crying, Addy?”
“I’m lost,” I said truthfully. I’d never felt so adrift.
“I’m not. I know this area pretty well. Would you come have a cup of coffee with me?” He pointed over his shoulder to where a BMW sports model of some sort idled. The exhaust was visible in the cold air. “I know a coffeehouse nearby that’s open today. You could follow me in your car. We could talk.”
Before today, I would have said no. But he had kind eyes like Barry, and I remembered his admonitions and Teresa’s. It had been a long time with no sign of Martin. I was so lonely. Maybe I could try.
“Just talking?” I raised an inquiring brow.
“Talking, coffee, and maybe a pastry.” He tilted his head, and his medium-length hair brushed his ear. “What do you say?”
I said yes, and we talked for hours.
Well, Paul talked. I mostly listened, but it was nice not being alone. Nice to hear about someone else’s life that sounded so normal. Paul was a real estate agent. He lived in a house on the same street as the Skellins.
Squinting at him, I asked, “Are you really named after Paul McCartney?”
“No, it’s just something I tell people to help them remember my name.” He reached across the table and touched my mouth with his thumb.
Surprised, I leaned back. “What are you doing?”
“You had a piece of blueberry crumble on your mouth.” He turned his hand to show me.
“Oh.” My cheeks heated as I mumbled, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” His eyes searched mine. “I want to see you again, Adelaide ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’ Footit.”
I rolled my eyes. I’d given him my full name and told him my estranged father had given me my middle name because that was his favorite song.
Then Paul asked, “Will you go out with me?”
Addy
Isaid yes to Paul, and when we began dating, I wasn’t so alone anymore.
He was kind, and I liked having someone to talk to. Being with him was effortless and easy. He accommodated my schedule, and I accommodated his.
Day after day for a month, we talked every single day, even if it was only a phone call to check in. We went ice skating. I didn’t know how, but he taught me. He took me to the movies on his side of town. We revisited the coffeehouse. He had me over to his house, which was nearly as big as my apartment complex. Apparently, he was a successful real estate agent.
Eventually, I introduced him to my sister. Rachel was happy I was finally dating.
Another month passed, and I began to believe it might be possible for me to have a normal life. Until I found out I was wrong.
