“I dreamed once that you had died. I forced myself to sleep for days, until I was able to resurrect you.”
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, feeling Jack watch me disappear into my house. I let out a huge sigh, and began breathing heavily as I braced myself with my hands on my knees. I had never been labeled as nostalgic, nor did I think of myself as such, yet that day, around him, that is exactly how I felt. I could relax a little, and not try to keep my wits about me. I wasn’t trying to impress him, I was just trying to be me, and not fall to pieces in front of him.
What if everything I suspected about him was wrong. I had to get closer to him, and find out for sure, before I revealed that part of me that I never wanted to return to. If Jack was who I thought he was, I now had a name to the face I’d thought about since I was thirteen. The next day seemed so far off. I had to see him again before that.
I’ll invite him to dinner.
I raced up to my bedroom and over to the desk against the far wall. I moved the old, wooden hammer that I saw him throw in the dumpster off my notepad. I grabbed a pen from my desk drawer and began to write. What could I say without sounding like a stalker? Dear Jack. No, that was lame. Do not start a simple note out like that.
How was I going to do this? I had to do yoga for half an hour before I worked up enough courage to go out and speak to him face-to-face. And even in that half hour I could not find my center.
And then you trailed off on Native Americans, and loin cloths. He really got the best of you, Maddy.
Whatever I decided to write, I needed to do it fast, or I was going to be late for my first day on the job. I hunkered down, put my pen to the paper, and started writing.
Hey, Jack, sorry I know this is weird because you don’t know me. But I was just wanting to tell you that if you didn’t have any dinner plans, you should come to Giovanni’s Italian Restaurant. I would really like it if you came. I’ll hopefully not be fired, or quit by the time you come eat. :p
I ripped the piece of paper out of my notebook, and refused to second guess myself on what I wrote, otherwise I would have been there all night. I folded the paper and changed out of my yoga shorts, throwing on some black slacks. I rolled up my yoga mat and walked to the garage, although not before I peeked out of the back window, glancing at Jack one last time. On my way out I stopped at the end of the driveway, placing the note under his windshield wiper blade. My stomach was in knots hoping he would show.