Leaving Normal (23 page)

Not that there was anything wrong with sex. He liked it, missed it. But he was looking for more than that. Couldn't exactly explain why. Maybe because he could have sex so easily, he knew how empty it could be. He was tired of being empty, he wanted more. Wanted to feel full and have some kind of promise in his future.

He could have had plenty of dates with women whom he met through his job. Paramedics and nurses, even some female cops he crossed paths with on calls.

He thought about Alisa, the nurse from Swallow Hill who would date him in a heartbeat. She wasn't for him, and besides, he didn't want to get involved with anyone affecting his job. When he was off duty, he wanted to be off duty and not talk shop or compare notes.

That left the bars and he wasn't into the Boise bar scene, although he and Rocky and gone out to a few, but no one had peaked his interest. A hoseman on C Shift suggested Internet dating, but Tony wasn't thrilled about that—seemed like too much of a shopping market for the opposite sex. He'd rather meet someone when he was least expecting it. Find her where he wouldn't think of looking and let whatever happen, happened between them.

Natalie's voice intruded on his reflections. "I didn't think you'd like country music. You seem rock and roll to me."

"I love country music. Just not the twangy stuff. Travis Tritt, Montgomery Gentry, Big and Rich— they're some of the best."

"I like Montgomery Gentry, too. He's a good singer."

Tony laughed, slanted a smile at Natalie. "Montgomery Gentry is two people."

"It is? I thought it was one guy."

"Eddie Montgomery and Troy Gentry. They sing about life to the marrow—to the bones." Tony thumped his hands on the steering wheel in a mock salute. Then he patted Parker's knee. "Get out the CD that sings the bad word."

Parker's eyes lit up and she scrambled to find the case. She got it and stuck it into the CD player. She knew which track it was and the duo of Montgomery Gentry came through the speakers, Parker singing along and getting giggly when it came to the refrain of "Hell yeah!" She put a lot of spunk into it and he didn't mind she was swearing because it wasn't really swearing, it was singing.

Natalie got into it and the three of them sang some badass lyrics on the way to get some pizza.

Once at Chuck E. Cheese's, Natalie and Tony sat at a table while Parker happily ate up all the quarters Tony gave her. He sipped on a cola, watching Natalie look around the restaurant with a lightness in her eyes.

"I remember these days. They were fun times," she remarked, her gaze traveling to the arcade area and the hippo slam. "I never beat that darn thing."

Sitting back in his chair, Tony folded his arms across his chest. "I love Parker, get a kick out of her having fun but, one day, I'm bringing my son or daughter here and I'm going to make the same good memories."

Natalie met his eyes, grew thoughtful. "You want children."

"Absolutely."

A far-off expression caught on her face, and she grew quiet a long moment. "You're going to be a great dad."

"If I have a son, I want to play baseball with him."

"What if you have a daughter?"

"I think I'd be okay with that because I work around so many guys, I do a lot of guy things with firefighters.

Kind of like a mentor thing for the new recruits. So, yeah, I'd be more than okay with a daughter."

"Kids are wonderful, no question." Absently, she toyed with her straw wrapper, rolling the thin paper between her fingers. "I wouldn't trade a minute with my Cassie, even though we had some disagreements in high school that tested our patience with one another. She's the light of my life and I miss her terribly."

"I can understand that. I miss having Parker around. I don't see her as much as I used to, and there's going to come a day when I probably won't see her much at all. But for now, I like to take her out for lunch. She likes it, too."

"Is she adjusting okay?"

"I think so. I hope so."

"It's never easy on a child for its parents to live apart. Cassie was sixteen when Greg and I got our divorce. It was difficult for her, it still is. I sometimes wish that he and I…" The thought trailed and she didn't finish it. "It's not that I want to be married to him again. I don't. I just wish that it wasn't so hard for my daughter at times. I can tell she's gone through some changes since going to college. She just doesn't seem as, I don't know—innocent anymore."

"Parker's six and she's grown up a lot in the past months."

"I can see how that would happen."

Tony grew quiet a moment, looking at Natalie and wondering. He saw a very beautiful woman; someone with naturally nice features and a great smile. She held herself well. He asked, "Are you dating anyone?"

With very little hesitation, she replied, "No."

"Why not?" It wasn't his business, but he wanted to know. She had the option of not telling him.

She inhaled, thought a moment. "I live a full life. I'm finally at a place where I'm happy with it. When Cassie moved out, I never really had that panicky feeling of an empty nest. Of course I miss her, but I have such a vast horizon at my disposal." The sparkle in her eyes gave her a youthful appearance. "Eventually, when things calm down with Hat and Garden I want to travel. Ever since I saw the movie,
Under the Tuscan Sun
, I've wanted to go to Tuscany, Italy. To see the fields of wildflowers, smell the salt of the ocean and explore the villas. The whole idea of going just speaks to me."

"It sounds really great," he said, sincerely meaning his words. "But you aren't that old, Natalie. You can do everything you want and have a second chance at life with someone special, too."

"I agree. But I'm just not determined to have a date on a Friday or Saturday night the way I was right after my divorce. One day—" she smiled, a soft upturn of her mouth "—I will date again. I'd like to feel important to someone, to not live alone. But for now…I'm okay."

He realized she'd confessed a lot and he appreciated her candor. "I understand."

"Do you—really?"

"Yeah. It feels good to feel like you're important to someone."

"Yes…" She spoke with a soft exhale, a gentle caress of a sigh, one that he read volumes into.

She was lonely. She might not admit it, but she was. He knew the feeling, could define it in ways she probably hadn't thought about.

Easing into his chair, he asked another personal question, hoping she would answer. "How many men have you dated since your divorce?"

"Seriously or just had a first and last date with?" She laughed, trying to make light of the topic.

"Seriously," he supplied in an equally serious tone.

Her mouth sort of fell open a little, a parting of her lips as if she was indecisive about answering. At length, she responded, "One."

"How long?"

"Too long."

He waited.

"Four months."

"That's not long."

"It was long enough to become emotionally attached. It was a bad breakup."

"Why did you break up?"

"Not my choice. His. He said we didn't have chemistry."

Tony's eyebrows lifted. "It took him four months to figure that out?"

"Apparently."

She thoughtfully took a sip of her soda, then a crease marked her forehead and an audible sigh escaped her. "You men view dating in a whole different way than women."

"How's that?"

"Well, it's like…" She collected her words, licked her lips, then in a breezy tone, professed, "Here's a good analogy. Women walk into a car dealership, size up all the cars, then pick the red one because it looks pretty. Men walk into a car dealership and spend hours checking out all the cars, under the hood, the gauges and the tires before they settle on one particular car."

"And there's a problem with that?" he questioned, a smile tipping the corners of his mouth.

She swirled her straw through the ice in her cup, then elaborated. "The same woman, when choosing a man, will want to check his tires, under his hood, get all the stats on him—then decide if she'll go out with him. And yet, the same guy who spent all those hours on the car before buying it—he'll look at a line of women and pick the redhead without a single question. He goes by her appearance only because she's pretty."

Tony laughed. "So what's the point?"

"The point is, men are fickle. They'll invest more on a car than they will on a woman."

"Not all men."

On a half laugh, she sort of snorted. "The men I know."

Shaking his head, Tony concluded, "Then you haven't been with the right man."

She gave him a glance, a lift of her eyebrow. "Maybe not."

Their eyes connected, neither saying anything. Both maybe thinking two different things…or maybe not.

Tony didn't know how long the moment would have lingered if not for Parker butting up to the table.

'Tony, when's the pizza going to be here?" She sidled next to his knee, pushed her weight into him and stole a sip of his cola.

"Right now," he said, breaking away from Natalie's gaze as the server came to the table with a large cheese pizza.

They ate, talking about nothing significant until he mentioned the Idaho Steelheads and Natalie said she'd never been to a game.

Tony lowered his slice of pizza, wiping his hand on a paper napkin. "You're kidding me—you've never been to a Steelies' game?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Not on my priority list." She pointed at him, and almost in an accusatory tone, asked, "Have you ever been to the Morrison Center and watched a musical?"

"No."

"Why not?" She teased him right back.

"Not on my priority list," he responded.

She laughed. He enjoyed the feminine sound, thought she looked years younger when she relaxed and wasn't so on guard.

Pizza was finished, the bill paid and the three of them drove Parker to her house. Tony brought her to the door, said goodbye, then it was just him and Natalie heading back to their part of town.

They didn't say much—they didn't need to. He felt at ease, was comfortable just listening to the music and not having to make filler conversation.

He pulled into his garage, got out of the truck, and she made it clear she was going to walk back home without him, because she started walking while talking. "Thanks for taking me out to pizza. It was fun—"

"I'll go with you," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets to ward off the chill. It might have been in the low forties at best, the sky clear and crisp.

"It really was fun." She stepped up to her porch, dug into her purse for her house key.

"I'm glad you had a nice time. So did I. We should do it again." He waited to see her reaction.

She gave him just the one he anticipated—a moment of indecision as if she wanted to but didn't want to let herself want to. It was all he needed to see.

He leaned his shoulder against the wood trim around her front door, folding his arms over his chest. "There's a hockey game tomorrow night. The Steelies are play-ing Vegas and they're going to tear up the ice. I'll pick you up at five, we'll grab something to eat downtown and I'll show you what you've been missing."

"Well, I…" She fumbled for something to say. "Don't you have some firemen buddies you'd rather go with?"

He grinned. "I don't date men."

"But this wouldn't be a date," she quickly rebounded. "I don't think we should date because I—"

"I told you, you think too much." He leaned in, gave her a kiss on the corner of her mouth, tasting just a hint of her. His was a brief touch, nothing sexually overt, but if she didn't get his message that he wanted to see her— and not just as a neighbor—he was going to have to spell it out in big letters.

Stepping down from the porch, he called over his shoulder, "You can check under my hood anytime, Natalie. I've got nothing to hide."