Something Missing_ A Novel - Matthew Dicks [94]
Had there been time to prepare, he would have found a way.
As they left the restaurant, Laura suggested ice cream at a shop less than a block down the street and on the way back to the town-hall parking lot. Martin agreed. Laura ordered a double scoop of chocolate in a waffle cone, and though Martin never ordered ice cream in a cone because of the mess that it typically made, he said, “The same for me” when the tattooed teenage girl asked him what he wanted.
He wasn’t even sure why.
Laura allowed Martin to pay for the ice cream, and the couple licked double scoops of chocolate while strolling past the window displays that lined Farmington Avenue and the newly developed section of the town center. Familiar with this area, Martin pointed out Vintage Vinyl, a record store owned and operated by two of the most unfriendly brothers ever to walk the face of the earth. Martin had been in their store on several occasions, and though he had managed to avoid their venom so far, he had heard the owners responding rudely and sarcastically to several customers, both in person and over the phone. One look at their front door, plastered with signs warning against cell phones, dogs, unattended children, and ice cream, and you knew that this was not an accommodating merchant.
“Why do you shop here if the owners are so rude?” Laura asked.
“It’s entertaining. I never know what they might say next. And I’m kind of hoping that they come after me someday. I’m ready for them.”
“Ready for them?”
“I’ve practiced my one-liners and zingers. I’m ready to put them in their place and make a scene. Someday I’m going to walk in there, yapping on my cell phone, with a melting ice cream cone in one hand, two dogs in the other, and trailed by three random kids from the street. I can’t wait to see what they say.”
“I’d like to be there when you do.”
“I’ll let you know,” Martin assured her.
Laura smiled.
As they crossed Main Street, Laura reached out and took Martin’s hand, a move that startled him so much that he dropped his ice cream in the middle of the street. He paused in the crosswalk, staring at the upside-down cone before Laura tugged on him, offering to share the rest of hers with him.
It was a moment that Martin would never forget.
As they turned past the town hall and began walking down the hill toward the parking lot, Martin suddenly grew panicky. They were still holding hands, which Martin could barely believe, and now he wasn’t sure what might happen next. Should he walk Laura to her car, or should they separate at the most logical spot, halfway between the two vehicles? Should he open her car door? Could he, considering he didn’t have the key? Should he attempt to kiss her? The last girl that he had kissed had been Katie Neelon, a girl who had been working at Dunkin’ Donuts around the same time that Martin was employed there. She had just graduated from college, was a couple of years younger than Martin, and was working the overnight shift while trying to find a teaching job in the local school district. Katie had asked Martin out after the two had spent an evening together in the drive-thru, pouring coffee for bleary-eyed plow drivers and scores of young people who disregarded the foot and a half of snow that had already fallen on the roads. After an evening of chili dogs at Doogie’s and a movie (Four Weddings and a Funeral, which Martin had adored and Katie had not), he had managed an awkward kiss on Katie’s parents’ doorstep. Martin could remember feeling the same way then as he did now. Unsure. Afraid. Desperately wanting to do the right thing. He wanted to kiss Laura, that was certain, but he was also terrified about where that first kiss might lead.
More uncertainty, to be certain.
Fortunately for Martin, Laura didn’t leave the decision making to him. Still holding his hand, she led him past his Subaru and over to her Honda Accord. Stopping beside the door, she turned, took hold of his other hand as