The Stacks

Chapter 8: Daydreaming

Song: "All You Have to do is Dream" by the Everly Brothers

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I woke up Saturday morning with a smile on my face, thinking about the day before. I'd like to say that my feelings resulted from completely selfless and altruistic motives, that I was glad to know that Harry wasn't homeless or destitute, and that I had done a good deed for my fellow man by offering him my friendship in a time of need.

But the smile on my face had nothing to do with that. I was crushing hard on him and I'd be a fool to try and convince myself otherwise. I replayed the events of yesterday. He seemed like a completely different person than that man I'd been worrying over for the past four weeks.

As I got up and made my way to the shower, I let the tingles of excitement in, just for a little bit. You know, those first flutters you get when you meet someone and feel a connection, and you think that maybe, possibly, there could be more than just friendship. I didn't want to get ahead of myself or read too much into the time we had spent together yesterday, but I was almost certain that I hadn't misread that last moment before he left, when it looked like he wanted to kiss  me.

My shower lasted far too long as I replayed all the little moments during which I learned that he was a rather remarkable guy. But I also realized that he couldn't possibly want a relationship as he still struggled with grief day after day. He was the one who said he needed a friend, and regardless of my attraction to him, that was what I needed to be.

And then I started to feel slightly creepy for even thinking about him in any sort of romantic way in the first place. The man was in mourning, and here I was, hovering around like a vulture, waiting to make my move.

It felt wrong, like I was attracted to a married man. He was a married man, or at least he had been. Even though his wife was gone, I still had this vague sense of guilt for thinking about him that way.

What would his wife think of me?

Would she think I was good enough for him?

"Regan, just shut up!" I yelled at myself in the mirror. "You just met the guy! And he's not ready for any of that!"

That did the trick. Being an introvert, my mind was always running away on wild fantasies, often without my permission. If I made a concerted effort, I could usually stop the runaway thoughts before they caused too much damage; in this case, I had to stop them or I'd be planning our wedding by the end of the weekend.

After I got dressed, I started my usual Saturday cleaning. I dusted everything, especially the surfaces that were hit by the sun; there were a lot of them due to my wonderfully large windows. I threw in a load of laundry and thanked my lucky stars that I didn't have to fish quarters out of the couch cushions to carry loads to the basement just to have clean clothes for the next week. I cleaned any spots off my coveted windows; they hardly ever got dirty but I usually touched them up anyway. Lastly, I swept and Swiffered my floors. I couldn't even count of the number of times I had to tell myself to quit thinking about Harry as I worked. 

The weather had done a complete turnaround from yesterday. The sun was shining and the sky was a brilliant blue. It would be practically a sin to waste a day like this inside. I remembered Harry asking if I would want to take a walk some time. This would be a perfect day to take him up on it. I reached for my phone but soon remembered that we hadn't exchanged numbers. And I didn't even know his last name. Well, so much for taking a walk. Maybe that would have seemed too pushy anyway, since we had spent the entire previous day together. Even so, I'd have to remember to get his number when I saw him on Monday. Well, if I saw him.