Chapter 9. she
Jackson Johnson
"So, you're the guy from the bar service," she said, just as surprised as I was.
"Small world," I murmured. She raised an eyebrow.
"Very," she said in a complaining tone, which irritated me instantly.
"If I had known who you were, believe me, I would have thought twice."
"Me too," she said with a sarcastic smile.
"Then, this dinner isn't necessary."
"I think the same," she said. Instead of being offended by my comment, she seemed relieved to leave. She got up and walked to the exit.
"Wait." She stopped. I thought about my mother and her promise to stop bothering me. She turned towards me.
"What?" she asked impatiently at my silence.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. I'm not usually like this with anyone, especially not with a woman." She narrowed her eyes.
"And?" She paused. "Let's be honest, it's clear this bothers you as much as it does me. I only came as a favor."
Her words offended me. Any woman would want to be in her place right now!
"Favor?" She sighed.
"Sorry, enjoy your meal." She grabbed the doorknob and opened the door to leave. I immediately stood up to catch her.
"Wait, wait," I told myself it was a mistake. I stopped her outside the private room. She looked at me with irritation. "I have a proposal."
"What is it?" she asked.
"How about we just have dinner and pretend it was a normal dinner between two adults?"
She was really considering it. When did I step into another dimension?
"So your mother forced you to come to dinner with a stranger," she suddenly said, breaking the silence between us.
"Yes. And you?" She twisted her lip.
"My sister has work."
"And what does that have to do with...?" Then I deduced what she meant.
"She couldn't come. So..."
"So, that's the favor."
"Yes, I'm sorry," she murmured.
"Me too," I replied.
"Why you too?" she asked, surprised.
"Being forced to have dinner with a stranger is very unusual."
"Well, you are the son of one of my mother's patients."
I put my hands in my pants pockets, then looked at her as she looked at me.
"So?" She furrowed her brow. I then remembered she wasn't as short as I recalled from that night.
"Each to their own home?" she asked.
"Fine, but first, let's have dinner. Let me pay back in some way for you being forced to come to dinner with me."
"That's not necessary," she said. "Thanks, good night." She said goodbye with a marked English accent, and before I could insist, she was already walking out of the private area, leaving me alone in the hallway.
"What just happened?"
I finished my dinner alone in the private room, thinking about the woman who left. I didn't even know her name or what she did, but then I asked myself: Since when do you care to know anything about a woman? I walked to the exit, and the blonde who had greeted me upon arrival smiled at me.
"Did you have a good dinner, Mr. Johnson?" I didn't know if she was trying to get information or if she saw the woman leave minutes after arriving.
"Good night," I said sharply, starting to get irritated again. When I reached the outside of the place, I saw the woman on the sidewalk, looking at the night traffic. I was going to ignore her and head to my apartment, but as I was about to do so, she turned towards me. Her nose was red from the cold.
"Oh," was all she said before turning back to look at the traffic. I raised an eyebrow. Did she really just turn her back on me and pretend she didn't see me? That was really annoying.
"Good night, miss. Are you waiting for a ride?" She turned halfway when I stood beside her. I had to cross to the other side of the street since my car was parked in front of us.
"Yes, but my ride was canceled. I'm going to call a taxi," she said, looking at the traffic again.
"Where do you live?" She pretended not to hear me. "I just wanted to know if it was on my way so I could drop you off nearby. It's not for anything else... I'm not a pervert, just to be clear." She turned fully towards me.
"I'm going to 505 E 70th St." I quickly ran the address through my mind.
"Are you going to Presbyterian Hospital?" She looked surprised.
"Yes, how do you know?" I just shrugged.
"I suppose it's because of my job." I furrowed my brow, remembering. "Since I was a kid, I liked learning the addresses of where I was."
"Interesting. So, is that address on your way?" I lied. It was the complete opposite direction from my way home.
"Yes, I can drop you off there. It's on my way." I pointed to where my car was. We crossed the street, and I opened the door for her to get in. After closing it, I walked around the car and got in. She rubbed her hands to warm up. "Wait, I'll turn on the heater."
"Thanks," she said gratefully.
"Seatbelt, please." I tried not to sound authoritative. She nodded.
We entered the city's nighttime traffic. She was quiet, looking out the window.
"Are you on vacation?" I asked to break the uncomfortable silence. She looked at me briefly and shook her head.
"My family and I just moved here a few days ago," she said, and I kept my eyes on the traffic.
"And where are you from?" I heard her sigh, then she leaned her head back on the seat.
"London."
"It's a beautiful city," I confessed. I had visited years ago.
"Yes, it's beautiful."
Her responses didn't lend themselves to continuing a conversation, something that made me identify with her since I usually did the same with people who weren't my family.
"Do you work at the hospital?" She nodded when she saw we had arrived. She looked at me for a moment.
"Thanks for the ride." She smiled faintly. "Take care." She got out and closed the door. She didn't look in my direction as she walked into the building. She just left like that... and I realized when she disappeared that I didn't know her name.