Page 128 of Whirlwind

“Hmmm…. I suppose you could think of it as a favor.” He was smiling like it was a joke, though. Not laughing at her, but inviting her to join in his joviality.

That only made her more nervous. “What is it?”

“Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner?”

“What?” She hadn’t been expecting that at all. He couldn’t be serious. “Like a date? I can’t. I…”

He drew nearer, holding the broom in front of his chest like a bouquet of flowers. “Yes, like a date. And why can’t you?” His voice carried mischief, like he was indulging her.

She gestured vaguely between them. “Look at us. It just… it wouldn’t work.”

She thought he would move away, but he instead he got closer, nodding for her to continue.

Her tongue felt tangled in her mouth. She never said these things out loud. It didn’t help that he was standing so close that she could almost feel the heat of his body. “Because I’m… I’m old.”

“How old are you?”

“Over fifty.”

He raised one eyebrow and waited her out.

“Fifty-one. That’s over fifty.”

He chuckled. “In that case, I’m almost forty.”

Well, what did that mean? How old was he?

He took pity on her. “I’m thirty-six. So there’s fifteen years between us, hardly anything.”

“That’s practically a whole generation.”

Carla rolled his eyes. “We’re both adults. And in case it wasn’t clear, I find you very attractive.”

“You do?” Charlie could hear the shock in her own voice. She hadn’t meant to stay that out loud.

“I do.” He stepped closer. His eyes devoured her, making her feel tingly and desired.

“I… I should stock the bar. Nina’s running late today.”

“But will you go out with me?”

“I… no!” She hadn’t meant to snap, but everything just felt off tonight. Carla couldn’t possibly mean it, and she needed to cut this off before she got her hopes up. She couldn’t even figure out how it would work.

“I don’t want to push you if you’re not interested. But if your only concern is our ages, then I’m not concerned at all.”

“But we’re also… look at us! We’re both…” She waved a hand between them.

“Genderqueer? Masculine-of-center?”

“Butch,” she grumbled.

“You know, you’re the last person I expected to say that. Couples like us come in here all the time, right?”

He said the words kindly, but Charlie knew she’d messed up. She would never have thought that about anyone else. A whole lifetime had gone by, and she still hadn’t shaken off those voices in her head. “When I was growing up, it was butches and femmes, not...”

“When you were growing up? I mean, you were out, right? Didn’t that reproducing the binary stuff die out in the queer community in, like… the seventies?”

“I was… not out for a long time. And not in small town Arkansas.”