That Spark

THERE

I cannot even begin to explain what the heck I am doing here.

See normally, when a man wants to have a day to himself away from his noose-around-the-neck of a wife and from anything even remotely related to her, he actually abstains from anything even remotely relating to her and does stuff he cannot in her presence. And what am I doing?

Letting my species down, that's what.

"Is this alright?"Jill, as she has just told me points to a quaint restaurant, one I have passed every single day as I get to work, but never gave a second glance to.

And that might have been the case had I done the same with her. I'd be on with my miserable day, cursing loud enough to be heard up in heaven and drinking enough to flood all the sinners out of hell. And then desperately await Ellie's return at the same time that I keep lying to myself that I don't need her.

There's no point in lying; that's the one and only good thing my old man had taught me. Before he became the drunken sausage in between the hot dog of his car and the truck.

Talk about mustard and ketchup.

I don't let the shiver show as I snap back to where Jill is still pointing to the restaurant with the red and white striped awning.

Huh.

We used to have an awning outside the store under our apartment; before my father got evicted, of course. Between that and him being smashed, with the lack of a mother and an empty cookie jar, I had flown in and out of foster homes and church dorms until I was old enough to get a place of my own. It was all going fine and dandy until I had gotten kicked out, of course.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, with such a cliché sob story of having no one to love me when I was a kid, I guess I liked it when Ellie did. As much as I deny it, I know I need her. But there are certain times like I don't, once in a while.

Like today.

Yet, here we are . . .

"It's perfect, Jill." I flash her a small smile and she returns it, making my heart jump.

It's not supposed to do that, is it?

I hated biology. All of it.

But then maybe actually paying attention in class would've warned me of this situation. That yes, it was a possibility that I'd have my wife's twin drop into my life any given day.

Not any day, though. No. Today was different. Ellie, for once, isn't here. And what are the odds of finding someone who shares her looks? Even mannerisms to an extent? . . .

"Are you sure? W-we could go to some place you suggest instead." She smiles hesitantly, tucking her auburn hair behind her ears. She stammers. That's freaking adorable. Ellie always did when I made a move on her in public. God, how she'd blush . . .

"No, this is fine." I assure her and hold the door open, and Jill walks inside after looking over her shoulder. Again.

I could tell she was nervous. The ring--Oh, forgive me, the diamond ring on her finger --told me that a Michael Stane look-alike had her on a leash; a gold leash, most probably. Yeah, I could sniff the richies out like that. Literally. Her perfume smells divine.