Drinks and dinner led to shots and laughter. Tabby was enjoying a night of freedom. There was no pressure. There were no questions. There was only the moment.
It was the first time that the only thing that mattered was the moment. I still didn't know what was going on in her world. My dad was just diagnosed and I think I needed this moment, this freedom, as much as she did.
There was the occasional look of sadness on both sides but that was washed away with a smile, a wink about the motel, a gentle touch of the shoulder, or a jokingly condescending pat on the knee. I wasn't expecting her to tell me what was going on in her world and I had no plans of telling her what was going on in mine, initially.
Young nights age quickly. They start with the ability to go anywhere. As night falls choices are made and there are only so many directions those choices lead.
The plan of a quick drink, pleasant conversation, and an early exit had changed. It was almost closing time. My confidence was waning. A blast of late winter weather would bring me back to life.
I stepped outside for a quick cigarette. The March air was crisp. The smoke quietly rolled across the parking lot along the tree line. The moonlight was clean and bright. There was a sense of purity.
The door to the bar opened. Jules and Tabby stepped out and headed to Julie's car.
"Have a good night, ladies," I said surprised that the young night had, for them, gotten so old so quickly. Was I over confident? Had I tried too hard to not seem like I was trying too hard?
They both laughed and walked to the driver's side of the car. My concern turned to curiosity. Tabby grabbed a small bag from the backseat. Just then it hit me that there were only four cars in the parking lot. One was broken down. One belonged to Jules. One was the bartender's and the last one was mine.
Tabby walked back towards the bar with her bag over her shoulder and her hands in her pockets. The bright moonlight danced in her eyes.
The car drove up to the curb where we were standing. The driver's side window slowly rolled down.
"Are you sure?" Jules asked Tabby.
"Yes," she said with that infectious smile.
"I swear to god if you hurt her," she said pointing to me.
"I know, Jules, I know." I flicked my cigarette into the sewer. She rolled up her window and slowly drove off.
"So where is your car?" I asked feeling the slick smile cut across my face.
"I had a friend drop me off. I knew I would get a ride from Jules if I needed it."
Her eyes lit up under the outside light of the bar. Her energy brought a warmth to the crisp March air. Her kiss was like a bolt of electricity that brought my soul back to life.
"You know," I said feeling strangely honest, "I'm not the best guy on the planet. I think you deserve something good, something better than good. I hope I can be that guy for you."
"Trust me I know what bad is," she said looking at me with those beautiful brown eyes, "and this doesn't feel bad."
The night had aged perfectly. There was no pressure. There were no more questions. There was only the moment.
