Taya (In Progress)

2

          I was surrounded by people laughing and talking. I was by myself at the bar sipping a lukewarm root beer. Ice waters it down. I had asked a couple of my friends to come out tonight but they decided to cancel last minute. I was already here. 

          I take out my phone to start scrolling through my facebook when I feel a soft push of air on my back as a tall man sits behind me. I spin in the stool and am met face to face with a man of atractiveness I would only see in my dreams.

          "Hey, there," I say softly.

          "Why, hello. I got stood up. I'm not here to pick up chicks. I promise you I'm not a weirdo,"

          I chuckled under my breath. His voice is deep, but not too deep. The scent of his cologne is there but you can't smell it unless you are close to him. Like I was.

          "You don't look like that type," I said.

          "What type do I look like then?"

          "A guy who doesn't like to get in with people he can't see a future with. You don't like to get in deep unless you can see this woman in a white dress and veil, walking down the aisle." 

          "You can see her in a wheelchair, holding your first baby, being wheeled out of the hospital. Buying a house with her. Growing old with her."  I take a deep breath.

          "You didn't even need my palm!" He looked stunned.

          I laughed. We talked and talked. Our conversation drowned out the noise of the people around us. My root beer had been refilled twice. The things I had felt in the conversation, the energy I had felt. It was new. I'd never felt this before. Terrence. It sounds like the name of a prince. I'd like one of those.

          I didn't take him home. He took me home to his house. We watched scary movies on his couch until the sun came up. Then, we went to bed until the sun was down. Our chemistry was unlike any I had ever felt before. It was real. So incredibly genuine. If I wasn't being honest, I could say that I wanted to marry this man from the moment I met him. But at that point I didn't want to marry anyone.  I couldn't see myself tied up into something it wasn't very easy getting out of.

         Terrence was different though. You could tell be the way he carried himself out in public. Almost as if he didn't want anybody either. I rolled over and whispered in his ear,

          "You awake, Terry?"

          "Yes, do you want me to go get some food?"

          "Yes, please,"

          So he did.

          After lying on my back for 20 minutes, I decided That I had to call my mother to let her know that I wasn't in my apartment. She comes and surprises me a lot. I didn't want her to be startled when I wasn't there.

          "Are you with someone?" she asked.

          "Yes, I met this man in the bar last night-"

          "What? A man? In the bar?"

          "Yes, but he's different. It's not what you think I-"

          Click. I looked at the screen on the phone. 

          "Bitch," I exhaled.

          "I mean, I'm not always the nicest, but I wouldn't say I'm that bad," 

          I turned around to see Terrence in the doorway with 2 bowls of something that smelled amazing.

          I chuckled. "Not you, my mother,"

          "Ahh the mother. Who's isn't a bitch?" 

          I smiled. He smiled. He brought me the pasta and told me that it was something he cooked up real quick with the things he had in the house. It was swirled into a round ball, with a white sauce and what looked like sundried tomatoes, and garnished with basil. I grabbed a forkful of it, sad that I had to mess up the swirl, but when I tried it, It was amazing. It had been a long time since I had something with this amount of flavor.

          "Woah," I whispered.

          "Good?"

          "Amazing."

          He came and sat next to me on the bed.

          "My dad has heart problems, so we don't eat anything with salt," I said.

          "Oh. That's tragic."

          "My dad dying, or the salt?"

          "Both."

          I smiled. It's all good. It's all good.

          "He isn't dead yet. But he's not alive anymore,"

          "In his soul, you mean?" he inquired.

          "In everything. He used to  play with us, and drive us places, but now he can't even lift himself out of bed,"

           "Sometimes, it's hard to see them like that. But you have to make peace with it. Think about the beautiful memories that you both made. Don't think about the ones that you're making now. When he's gone, you're going to want to remember him as the fun, playful dad, not the one that was never out of bed," Terry said. 

          It's been a while since someone said words that actually meant something.

          "Have you lost someone?" I asked.

          "Both my parents when I was young. Before I could even remember them. And then my grandmother last year of cancer. I have my grandpa still, but it's really hard to live without her."

          I set my empty bowl down on the nightstand and scooted closer to him.

          "We should find new people."

          "Yeah, that's a good idea,"

          I looked up at him.

          "What's your name?" I asked. He chuckled.

          "Terrence Weller, and you, pretty lady?"

          "Zoe Lawrence, nice to meet you," 

          I reached out for his hand, in a gesture to shake it, but he took it and pulled me in. I melted into his kiss and my muscles relaxed. He set his bowl down with one hand and continued to press his lips into mine. He pulled away, leaving me with  a confused expression on my face and whispered,

          "I think we found new people,"