***
It’s 9 a.m., and I’ve been up since 6 contemplating waking Hollis. I pace up and down the hall in front of his room. I pried his door open so I can watch for any signs of life. He finally rolls out of bed, and I practically pounce on him. He staggers into the kitchen and I scurry behind him like an excited puppy.
"That was him. The other helper person!”
Hollis rubs his eyes and holds his hand in front of my face. “What? Who? Can I have a cup of coffee before we do this? And can you turn the volume down a notch?”
“Didn’t you smell him?" I ask.
He shakes his head. “Smell him? Did I smell my new colleague? Nope. Pretty sure I didn't smell him. What has gotten into you?”
I slam a cup of coffee in front of him to keep his interest. It nearly scorches the top of his mouth upon his first sip, which he illustrates with a jolt.
“He reeked of that delicious microwave popcorn that Michael made in the library!"
“Have you even thought to consider that just maybe he had made a different kind of popcorn yesterday and you’re just losing your mind? Think about it. He is the network’s new audio technician. I’m pretty sure that doesn't set him up to assist you in scouting the last living souls on earth. He doesn't even work in human resources.”
“Why don’t we make a bet of it, then? You call him and line up a night for us to get together. All three of us, and I’ll prove it to you. If I’m wrong, the drinks are on me,” I offer.
“Using my love of gambling against me are you?” he says, eyebrow raised. “Fine, but only because it’s my job to be your wing man.”
I know he’s the one, and I am certain he knows who I am, too. Strangers don’t just radiate that kind of intensity. I’ve heard of eye-gazing workshops in which a host pairs up complete strangers, sounds a gong and each pair is meant to stare into each other’s eyes, no talking, for one entire hour. Some say they experienced a wide range of emotions, but always starting with a deep discomfort. It’s so uncommon to look into each other’s eyes, and often we are taught that staring at someone is rude. Attempting to connect with a stranger is a risk most people are terrified to make. That is what I should have felt here tonight, but I didn’t. There was an understanding in his eyes, and I didn’t want to look away. I need to know why he was chosen to be one of my allies.
6
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Ice Breaker
Maybe the floral romper? No, that’s too casual. I chuck it onto my bed with the others, and pull a red maxi dress out of the closet. No, makes me look like a tourist. I need something more...serious. It’s the night I’m going to gather the information I need about Amos. It won’t hurt to look like a female that understands the value of appearances for one night. Half of my closet is strewn about the room. I hold up my usual little black dress. It’s fitted, but not too tight. We have a winner. It has just the right amount of class, with a side of I didn’t try too hard. A little concealer and mascara to seal the deal. I slip on my strappy black wedges and head out to round up Hollis. He’s perched on the sofa watching football with a beer in hand. I do a quick spin to show off the new, improved me. He nearly chokes on his beer. “Look at you, getting all dolled up for our new friend Amos!”
“Alright, when we get to the bar, you need to suggest we play an ice breaker. Then I’ll get us started with a game, and you just follow my lead. Make sure you bring your wallet for those drinks.”
Hollis shakes his head. “You are going to feel like a moron when he has no connection to this.”
He slips on his shoes and holds the door for me. Such chivalry when I’m in a dress. I wonder what else I could get accomplished in this get up. We pull up to Andy’s Bar & Grill. It’s the largest of the establishments I’ll agree to frequent. Hollis and I spent a few months combing the area for restaurants and bars that I could manage to spend a couple hours in. He made a list on the marker board hanging next to the fridge as a reminder that I can do some normal things.
The food is subpar, but they have my favorite scotch, and tonight they run their best deal on bar pours so the place should be busy enough that Amos won’t question why we chose such a dive. As we walk through the door, I hold my breath in anticipation of any possible cold fronts. I let out a sigh of relief once I know the coast is clear. The smell of floor cleaner mixed with the deep fryer oil fills my nose. We snag the round booth in the back corner. It’s a perfect view for people watching, but far enough away from everyone that I can typically avoid discomfort. The bar is to our right. There is an older man with a baseball cap bellied up next to a woman, maybe ten years younger than him. They have had at least a couple rounds of whiskey based on the empty shot glasses in front of them. She is tapping her fingertips on the bar and pretending to be interested in the football game he is watching. I can almost feel the sticky wood beneath their hands. I order my usual scotch immediately, asking for two right away. I’m going to need the liquid courage. Hollis is taking his sweet time asking the server about all the specials. Once he feels his inquiries have been charming enough, he allows her to put our order in.
“While we are playing the odds, I would like to bet that she will most likely give me her number before the night is over,” Hollis brags.
“No chance, she—” The bell from the entrance dings and the front door slides open to reveal our real conquest. He’s wearing dark denim jeans, a faded grey t-shirt and a pair of casual, white tennis shoes. Not the kind of tennis shoes you would wear to workout in, but the kind that are comfortable and stylish. He sees our booth and doesn’t skip a beat. He moves with confidence, each step with a purpose. Hollis hops up and goes in for the hand grip, half hug that men do to show care for one another without risking their masculinity. Like, hey bro. How endearing. He turns toward my side of the booth. “Mind if I take a seat?”
“No, get in here. Hollis has had only good things to say about you since your last night out. However, He’s fairly easy to impress, so I figured I better decide for myself.”
I respond with all the extra charm I can muster. He doesn’t laugh, but his eyes smile back. They are chestnut brown in the center and surrounded by a halo of green. The gesture isn’t lost on me, but it is dulled by the sense that he is hiding some sadness. It’s a haunted expression. Lucky for me, I’m not the girl who is interested in fixing a broken man. We are here on a mission.
Our server approaches to take his order. She puts on a first-class show presenting the specials of the evening, as though we were at a Michelin star restaurant. Once she finishes, he immediately tosses the menu her way and orders an old fashioned. He clearly doesn’t live and die for attention the way some men do. I glance at Hollis and raise my eyebrows in an attempt to take his focus off the waitress and stick with the plan.
“Why don’t we make this fun with a little ice breaker,” Hollis encourages with an animated grin.
I throw my hands up in excitement. “Great idea! I know just the one. I will ask you questions for three minutes and then you can ask me questions about myself for three minutes. Think of it as speed dating for friends.”