Then again, though, it could be possible that he’s got to pee and I’m reading way too much into everything.
But would I be reading this much into everything if I didn’t see some kind of future between the two of us? That’s the real question, I think.
I mean, what happens when he comes out of that bathroom?
He’s going to come out of there and I’m not going to have any idea what to tell him.
I could always offer him coffee.
Coffee’s a nice way to say, “Hey, we just had a night of passion together. That doesn’t mean we have to talk about it.”
Of course, coffee can also imply sex.
If I ask him to join me for some coffee, is he going to think that I’m trying to get a little good morning sausage from him?
Would it be so bad if that’s what I did?
No, things are already complicated enough.
The best bet here is for me to just wait until he’s out of the bathroom and then go into the bathroom myself, putting the ball back in his court.
Of course, where is it said that the person in the bathroom can’t be the one to do the thinking?
I guess I’m the one that started this whole thing this morning, but that doesn’t mean that I’m the only one that can deal with it.
Chapter Ten
Metaphor and Simile
Damian
It’s been a week now since Penelope first stopped by. It’s also been about a week since Emma and I first got together, but that’s not really important right now.
What’s important is that I’m standing outside the hospital where Penelope told me to meet her and I’m having some serious second thoughts about going inside.
She was supposed to meet me out here, right here. She told me to wait for her by the smoking area on the north side of the building.
When it comes to smoking, Penelope is a world class athlete.
Forget the smoke rings and the French inhaling. That’s child’s play.
I could swear—nobody believes this story, but I could swear that Penelope once managed to blow a perfectly symmetrical figure eight that just kept growing in size until a slight breeze finally distorted the lines out of recognition.
She just looked at me afterward, too, with a rather self-satisfied look.
Now, she hasn’t shown up to meet me and I think I’m just going to go.
Ed has a lot of hate for me for what happened to Jamie, that’s nothing new. And as great as it would be to somehow work through that and actually get to know each other without all the vitriol, I’m not daft enough to believe that’s actually going to happen.
I’m going to go up there and either the visit turns into an argument, or he ends up keeling over at the very sight of me.
I really don’t see this working out.
“I’m so glad you came,” Penelope’s voice comes from behind me, and I turn around.
“Hey,” I tell her. “I was just looking for you.”
“It looked like you were just getting ready to leave,” she says.