Nights in the Fast Lane: A Contemporary Romantic Comedy Read online

  He brought his eyes up to mine, expecting some sort of a response.

  I went over to my refrigerator and pulled out a 9x13 pan of lasagna. I took the aluminum foil off, scooped some pieces onto a plate, and put it in the microwave.

  “Dane, what did you eat today?”

  “I had an apple for breakfast and they provide lunch on the jobsite. It’s supposed to make up for the fact that you only get paid fifty bucks for working eight hours.”

  “What did they give you for lunch?”

  “I had a ham sandwich and two chocolate chip cookies. The kind from a bag, not the homemade kind.”

  “Are you kidding me? That’s all you ate the ENTIRE day? I ate more than that and I’m half your size! I’m five feet four and you’ve got to be well over six feet tall. Not to mention you weigh a heck of a lot more than me. Because I’m all dainty and stuff.” Not by a longshot!

  He smiled and mumbled, “Yeah, I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten a decent meal since Saturday.”

  “What?? It’s Thursday! Sit down at the table. You’re eating. I’m not letting you starve to death. Not on my watch.”

  Dane took off his coat and went to the sink to wash his hands. I had to explain to him that the faucet leaks so he should be careful not to turn the water on too fast.

  “Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? You had no qualms about letting me freeze to death, but God forbid I should go hungry,” Dane said, pointing out my inconsistency.

  “My dad grew up dirt poor,” I explained. “He had no money for food and sometimes the only lunch he got was from the nuns at the Catholic school that he went to. He told me stories of his childhood so I would understand how good I had it. I have no brothers or sisters. I wanted for nothing growing up. My dad didn’t want me to be spoiled. I felt bad when he told me how rough it was for him. I promised myself that I would always try and help anyone who was hungry. I donate to our local food pantry whenever I get the chance.” I looked down in sadness. I didn’t like to talk about my parents because it only served as a reminder that they were gone. I would have given anything to be able to talk TO them instead of only being able to talk ABOUT them. I turned around and pretended to check on the microwave while instead wiping away a tear. I never liked it when people saw me cry.

  “Izzy, I’m sure your father must have been a very good man to share his stories with you like that and to try to make you understand how life doesn’t treat people the same way. Some days are good and some days are bad, and you just get through them all one day at a time. Fuck. I sound like an after school special or something.”

  I laughed at that and it helped lighten the mood. I finished nuking the lasagna and brought it to the table along with plates, silverware, bread, and butter.

  “The only drinks that I have are orange juice and bottled water. I’m thinking you’ll want a bottle of water? I’m sorry that I don’t keep a stock of vintage merlot on hand.” I was wondering if he’d understand the wine reference.

  Dane immediately broke into a wide grin and shrugged. “It’s okay. I prefer my merlot while on the beach with the sand in my toes.”

  “On a moonlit night?” I guessed.

  “Exactly!”

  I stared at him while he dug into the food I had piled in a heap on his plate. I was glad that we shared the same sense of humor and that we seemed to be getting along a lot better than we had earlier in the car. I was starting to really like this guy. He wasn’t just a pretty face. He had a personality to go with it.

  I took a few bites of food and noticed that Dane was not stopping and coming up for air.

  “You can slow down, dude. The food isn’t going anywhere. I have more in the fridge. You’re going to puke if you keep eating that fast.”

  “I haven’t eaten anything resembling a full meal since Saturday. This tastes like Heaven. I’m pretty sure my body was going to start digesting my internal organs. I could feel my spleen shrinking by the day. You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he said.

  Actually, I did have some idea how happy he was. His face was lit up in complete satisfaction. My cooking wasn’t really that good. He must have been famished if he was enjoying it this much. If only I could satisfy someone like that in the bedroom. Then I’d really be impressed with myself. All my thoughts seemed to drift back to sex. I don’t know what got into me. It’s just that Dane was so damn FINE. I got a chance to examine him closer now that his coat was off. He was wearing a black long-sleeved thermal shirt with a few buttons at the top. They were closed tight, denying me a view of what was underneath. I bet his chest was muscular and spectacular. Dane spoke, snapping me out of my daydream.

  “So how come your dog didn’t try to eat my face off? Were you just trying to scare me, or what? What’s her name?”

  “Yeah, I was just trying to scare you. She loves everybody. Whenever my friend Monica comes over, it’s really embarrassing. Kitty jumps up on her constantly and she doesn’t listen when I tell her to get down. It’s obnoxious. She’s not as bad with my other friend, Winter. Winter doesn’t like dogs as much and I think Kitty senses that and stays away from her.”

  “Kitty? Who’s Kitty?”

  “The dog. Her name is Kitty. Her full name is Miss Kitty, but she has hundreds of nicknames. Pig, Pudding Pie, Stinky Pinky, Buttface, Doofy-Loofus. Whatever I’m in the mood for.”

  “I’m going to ignore whatever just came out of your mouth and remain focused on the name “Kitty” for a dog. Are you a sadist or what?”

  “No. I’m an animal lover. This is going to be a long story, so bear with me, ok? I have two best friends, Monica and Winter. Winter has a sister named Emma who volunteers at our local animal shelter. Emma is a cat person, but she knows I love dogs. So, as fate would have it, there was a black lab puppy found abandoned in a foreclosed home. The puppy was malnourished and very sickly, but it wasn’t alone in the house. It was being cared for by two cats. The cats would sit next to the puppy and try to keep it warm. They jumped on the counter and knocked the cat food off so the dog could eat it and not starve. The shelter estimated that the dog was alone for three days. It’s a miracle that she survived. Emma fell in love with the cats that took care of the dog, but she still needed a home for the dog. That’s where I came in. Emma knows I’m a sucker for a cute face. She called me up, told me the story, and the rest is history. I fell in love with my girl and adopted her on the spot. The hardest part was coming up with a name. I’m bad at names. Emma suggested that I call her “Kitty” because the dog was found with cats and she absolutely loves them. I had no other name in mind, so I just went with it. To this day, Kitty does not like other dogs at all but she can’t get enough of people and cats. She’s my baby.”

  Dane stared at me for an eternity. The story must have impressed him, because he put the fork down and stopped eating.

  “That’s really nice of you, Izzy. The more you tell me about yourself, the more I’m realizing that you’re not who I thought you were at all.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to stop referring to me as ‘your highness” and quit acting like I’m an arrogant snob?”

  “Probably not. If you get to make up thirty thousand nicknames for the dog, then I think I’m going to stick with ‘your highness.’ But only because it annoys you and not because I think it’s true,” Dane said while throwing an evil grin at me.

  Wow. Was that almost flirting? He’s giving me nicknames. I stuck out my chest a little bit and got up to see what was in the fridge for dessert. Maybe I was on the menu after all.

  Dane went to rinse his plate in the sink and he was kind enough to bring mine over, too.

  “Please don’t put that down the drain,” I cautioned while pointing to the hard noodle that was on my plate. “My garbage disposal doesn’t work right and it will get stuck there.”

  “I can take a look at it if you want,” he offered, “but I’ll need to see what tools you have. I don’t have anything with me
.”

  “What’s in the tool bag that you brought back from the jobsite?” I asked while pointing to the bag that was sitting on the kitchen floor.

  “My torture kit,” he immediately answered with a smile. I did not find the joke funny and I think the horror was written all over my face.

  “Relax, Izzy. I was only kidding around. Do you really still think I’m Hannibal Lechter?”

  “No?” I meant it as a statement but it came out as sounding like a question.

  “Fine. Go look inside my bag and see for yourself.”

  “No!” I wanted desperately to know what was in the bag, but I didn’t want to touch it.

  Dane walked over to pick up the bag and set it on my kitchen table. “This is going to embarrass me, but I’m going to do it anyway. Just for you. This bag contains everything I currently own.” He reached his hand in and pulled out a small tube of toothpaste, a stick of deodorant, an apple, a t-shirt, and two pairs of underwear that were wadded up in a manner that made me believe they were NOT clean. I stared at him helplessly. I didn’t know what to say. How in the Hell was that everything that this beautiful man owned? His story wasn’t adding up. I was blabbing about my poverty stricken father and my dog with the cat name, yet I still knew nothing about the stranger standing right in front of me. How had I become so self-possessed?

  “What’s going through your head right now, Izzy? I can’t read your expression. You think less of me now, don’t you?”

  “I only think less of myself,” I said, “I’m ashamed that I’m so horribly selfish that I never asked a single thing about you or how you came to be in this situation. I’m so, so sorry.”

  I could see he was taken aback by my answer. He was embarrassed about the fact that he was homeless, while I was guilt-stricken for not asking him about it sooner. Our communication skills sucked.

  Dane sat down at the table and brushed his shaggy hair off his face. He looked up at me and explained, “I wasn’t homeless a week ago, Izzy. Something happened last Saturday and I found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a bad situation and I had to get out of town. I want to be perfectly clear that I did nothing illegal. I saw something that I shouldn’t have, and I had to run because it wasn’t safe there anymore. I’m not going into any further detail, so don’t waste your time asking me. I only had the clothes on my back and a couple hundred bucks in my wallet. There was no one I could turn to for help. I got a bus ticket and found myself stuck in Bridgeport with no job. I rented a shitty motel room and spent some money at a dollar store on toothpaste and deodorant and the cheapest underwear I have ever worn in my entire life. I didn’t even buy a toothbrush. I used my finger to clean my teeth. I have nothing. You’re not the only one who’s ashamed here.”

  He put his head in his hands. I have no idea what possessed me to do what I did next. I took two steps towards him and gently ran my fingers through his hair. It’s just that he looked so depressed and I have a soft spot for abandoned puppies and cute homeless guys and I was NOT THINKING CLEARLY.

  He took a startled breath and jumped up from the table. I guess I caught him by surprise.

  “I’m sorry,” I stammered, “I didn’t mean to touch you, but you looked so sad and your hair looked so soft and I-I-I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

  “I have to use your bathroom, where is it?” he asked.

  I pointed him in the right direction and yelled out after him, “You have to jiggle the handle after you flush, or it won’t stop filling the tank with water!” Sometimes I could swear there was not one thing that worked in this house. For example, my brain was also not working properly. I should not have touched the strange man sitting at the kitchen table. But, oh my goodness, his hair was so soft. I wanted to touch him again.

  I waited patiently for him to come out of the bathroom. He was probably looking for a window to climb out of and make his escape, but the joke was on him: that bathroom had no windows. Of the two of us, I was clearly more of a stalker maniac than Dane. This was a fact that shamed me greatly. I really needed to get laid so I would stop groping unsuspecting strangers.

  Dane returned to the kitchen and asked, “Where will I be sleeping tonight? I had a long day and I would really appreciate a blanket and somewhere to sleep.” He probably meant somewhere safe where I would not be trying to jump on him and have my way with him in the middle of the night.

  “This is a one bedroom house and all I have to offer you is my couch in the living room. I’ll be sleeping in my room. With the door shut. And locked.” I said that to remind him that he would not be allowed access to come and get me in the middle of the night, and to reassure him that I would be in another room and he would be safe from me, too. I think at this point, I was probably a bigger threat than he was. What the hell was the matter with me? Maybe it was hormones. I had no clue.

  I gave him a blanket and meekly explained, “I can’t offer to wash any of your clothes because my washing machine is broken. Also, I just want you to know that I have to wake up in the middle of the night and feed the dog. She has digestive issues and she has a habit of throwing up if she doesn’t get four or five meals a day. I have to feed her again at nine and she usually eats a handful of food around two in the morning. The veterinarian said it’s something to do with stomach acid and bile and…I’m rambling incessantly so I’m going to leave now. Goodnight, Dane.” I started to grab the dog and make my escape to the safety of the bedroom, when Dane spoke.

  “How old are you, Izzy?”

  “Twenty-six. How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-five. You look younger. I’d put you at twenty-three at the most.

  “I guess it’s good genes. You look older than your age.”

  “That’s what living a rough life does to you. It ages you. Goodnight, Izzy.”

  I went into my room and shut the door. I looked out the bedroom window to see the snow still continuing to fall at an alarming pace. If it kept up like this, we would get a lot more than the twenty inches they had predicted. At lease I wouldn’t have to go to work tomorrow. The town tended to shut down when we got blizzards of epic proportions. That would leave me stuck in the house all day with Dane. We’d either kill each other or…..I guess there is no “or.” We’d probably just kill each other.

  The dog looked at me and went to the bedroom door to whine because she wanted to go out and get more attention from her new boyfriend. I couldn’t fall asleep knowing that my hot fantasy man, aka BRICK WALL, had a real name and was sleeping in the room right next to mine. Eventually sleep came and we both drifted off, bringing an end to the weirdest day ever.

  Friday, January 8

  Reality was pulling me out of an awesome dream where a soft hand was stroking my face. I was desperate to find out who the hand belonged to, when I woke up fully and discovered that the hand was the paw of a dog smacking my face to tell me it was her two a.m. feeding time. Kitty was about as accurate as an alarm clock. It was pretty scary.

  I groaned and made my way to the bathroom. The events of the night before came flooding back to me and I had to fight the urge to open my bedroom door and take a peek to see if Dane was still sleeping on my couch. I turned on the bathroom light and took a good look at myself in the mirror. Clear complexion, medium sized nose, no unibrow, and I had all my teeth. I wasn’t too shabby. I wondered why Dane thought I wasn’t his type. What exactly was his type? Probably bleached-blonde, tiny waisted, big-bosomed bimbos. I thought I might have seen a tattoo poking out of his shirt sleeve. He probably liked edgy girls with tattoos and piercings. Ones who looked like pin-up girls that you’d see on vintage car calendars. That was not me. That didn’t mean I couldn’t be nice to him. I opened my bathroom linen closet and did a quick survey. Dane had toothpaste and deodorant. That was not enough. I grabbed a plastic bag and put in some Q-tips, a brand new toothbrush, a comb, some band-aids, and a little sample-sized bottle of shampoo that came free in the mail. I planned to sneak out to fe
ed Miss Kitty and put the toiletries in his tool bag. That would be my good deed of the day. Look at me go: it was only two in the morning and already I was being Polly Positive.

  I threw on a bra and some jeans and tip toed out the door. The plan to be quiet lasted all of three seconds after Kitty saw Dane on the couch and she ran over and jumped on him.

  “What the fuck?” Dane exclaimed as he sat straight up and looked around in confusion.

  “I’m sorry! The dog likes you. I woke up to feed her and she decided to see if you were awake. I don’t know why she’s so friendly.” She sure didn’t get that attitude from me. I preferred dogs to people, but my dog preferred people over other dogs. Go figure.

  I watched Dane pet Kitty, but I was distracted when something out the window caught my eye. I went over for a closer look. It was STILL snowing. It wasn’t coming down as thick, but it was sure piling up out there.

  “How much do you think we got?” Dane asked.

  “I don’t know. It’s supposed to keep up all day today and not stop until tomorrow. I’d say we already got at least eight or nine inches.”

  “Do you use a snow blower or does someone come and plow your driveway?” he asked.

  “None of the above. I have a shovel. We don’t usually get this much snow. I can handle three or four inches at a time, but not eight.”

  Dane snickered and said, “So eight inches is too much, huh? Too much for you to handle all at once? What if it’s a little bit at a time? Could you handle it then?”

  Was he talking about what I think he was talking about? What a pervert! I wanted to admit that taking eight inches had never been a problem before because the biggest cock I’d ever seen had been way smaller than that. That would make me sound lame. It was true though.

  “Relax, Izzy. I’m just messing with you. Never mind.”