Second Chance Romance

Mike called. "What's up Justin?"

"Not enough.” He peered through his living room window. “Snow flurries in November. Buffalo is going to catch hell this year." 

"Yeah. At least you can go out. I'm still recovering from that miserable disc surgery I probably shouldn't have done." 

"As soon as you are up and around, we'll go bowling," Justin said. The men laughed.

"Do me a favor and go out,” Mike said. “Do something. I’m living vicariously these days.

i can't really do that if you're just going to sit in front of the tube and watch football. Get out. Maybe you'll meet somebody."

Turning 45 in just three weeks, and ten pounds over his fighting weight, Justin had his doubts. “I don't know. It looks like the snow is sticking a little."

"Isn't that why you moved to that -what do you call it- mixed use community? You can walk to the coffee shop. I'd give anything if I could just walk to the bathroom."

Justin turned his television off. "Good point. I'm going." He checked himself in the hallway mirror before he left. His beard could use a trim, but he knew if he took the time to do that, he would lose interest in leaving his condo. He hurried the two blocks to Lisa's Café, cursing the wind, but enjoying the snowflakes. He quickly ordered a hot chocolate and sat down at a small table. The Café was nearly empty that Sunday afternoon. He noticed a woman sitting about ten feet away. Longish brown hair with highlights and a pretty face. She was reading from her Kindle. 

She looked familiar, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. Then it dawned on him. They had dated once just after his divorce from Megan had been finalized. What was her name? Carla? No, that wasn't it. She looked great. He noticed she wasn't wearing an engagement or wedding ring. What had they done on their date? Was it Candy? No. Kelly? Why couldn't he remember? He caught her glancing his way. There was a glimmer of recognition on her face, but she quickly looked away. He was enjoying the moment, but he wished he could remember her name.

He sipped his drink and got whipped cream on his mustache. He checked his contacts, sure she wasn't among them, but it gave him something to do with his hands. 

His peripheral vision suddenly warned him that she was getting up and starting to walk toward him. He looked up and froze.

"I know you," she said.

He stood and nodded his head. "We went out once."

"Was it that bad? I mean you couldn't say hello?"

"I wanted to but my mind went blank. I don't remember your name."

"Carolyn."

"Right!" It all came rushing back to him. They'd gone to a Mexican restaurant downtown. They'd had a vigorous debate about Trump and whether he was doing a good job. It became a little unpleasant and things went downhill from there. Yet, he also remembered he had liked her a lot. She was obviously intelligent and lively. He remembered now that they both spoke a little Spanish. Hers was better than his. 

She was smiling now. "You do remember me after all, I see."

He laughed. "So, Carolyn, would you like to join me?” He pulled back the chair next to his. “There's a new administration. Another opportunity for us to debate the future of America.”

"I'd love to. Remind me. What is your name?" 

He laughed. “Nice touch. It’s Justin. Do you live around here?”

“I do. I bought a very charming live-work unit above this café.”

“Do you like it? You’re a clothing designer, right?”

“I do. Yes, I’m a designer.” She grinned. “Are you still selling Buick Regals?”

“You’re confusing me with someone else. I’m a software analyst, but I did own a blue Buick Regal when I was in my early twenties.”

She laughed. “I’m not confused. You told me a story about that Buick. You said you gave it to Kars4Kids and made them promise to never play that hideous jingle in Buffalo again.”

“Yeah, it didn’t work.”

“Shall I sing it for you now?” She asked.

“I’ll buy you dinner again if you promise not to.”

“You think that will work?”

He smiled. “Will you have dinner with me?”

“I’d love to.”

Carolyn and Justin did much better with their second chance. And Mike’s vicarious living improved too. He recovered sooner than expected.