"That one afternoon, I kissed you. In the middle of the street, where a white truck zoomed past our connected lips. And boy, it caused problems we couldn't have seen, but wasn't it also amazing?"
...
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The new year had been rung in with good friends and a new house, but that was about it. Dean and Margaret had hosted a small get-together for New Year's day but all I could think about was Paislee's long face and how I had to practically beg her to show her face to Dean and Margaret. She hadn't seen them in a long time and when I asked why she didn't want to go, she simply said "you don't need me" and went into the bathroom. I was angry that day and it must've shown because after that, whenever I saw Dean, he asked about Paislee and me.
Now, I didn't get to see Dean often even though we worked together but whenever we did meet, I was grateful. Today, for a break, we were going out for lunch. I hated going out in uniform but it was a rarity that we were going off base and not in the cafeteria.
"Deen!" I heard my name from behind me.
I turned, standing by the exit gate of base, and saw Dean coming up behind me. Once we showed our IDs, we were released into the city. It was freezing here, something I wasn't used to being from Mississippi. It wasn't unbearable but I did need to invest in a good coat.
"Long time, no see," Dean said, smiling at me.
"It's only been a couple of weeks," I responded.
"I know, I guess I'm just used to seeing you every day. Getting to annoy you and distract you from work. Now that we're here it's like the seniors won't get off my neck."
"I feel you. It's like they purposefully make work harder for the new people. They need to get a life."
Dean nodded and rubbed his gloved hands together. "Where are we going? That diner down the way? They have pretty good food," Dean said.
"Fine with me. We actually have time today."
"How are you and Paislee?"
"I'm good, Paislee's good."
"Well, yeah, but I meant like. . . Together. You know what, never mind."
"We're good, I promise. We had a really good night yesterday," I lied.
"Didn't need to know that." Dean scrunched his nose.
"Wasn't talking about that, but okay. Anyway, how's Margaret. She's ready to pop with the baby, huh?"
"Oh my goodness, yes. I think we're both ready to meet our child. Any moment the baby could drop."
Margaret was in the last weeks of her pregnancy and of the time that I did see her, she was either telling me how sluggish she felt or ordering me around to bring her pillows and food.
Deen and I walked across the street, waving at folks that we knew in the city and small store owners. They welcomed us new-comers like family thankfully.
