Leo's Chance(11)

"What flavor do you like," I ask, opening the freezer door.

"Butter pecan," she says, opening a freezer door a couple down from where I’m standing.

I peruse the choices quickly and pull out a carton of butter pecan at the same time she pulls out the same flavor of another brand.

"Why that one?" I ask. "This one is twice the price. It's gotta be the best." I hold up my choice.

She shakes her head, "It's not about price, Jake. This one is the World's Greatest Ice Cream. Look, it says so right on the carton." She’s completely serious.

I look between the two. "Evie, you do know that they can say whatever they want to on the package, right? It doesn't mean it's true."

She doesn’t blink. "Well, see, you're right. But you're also wrong. I think that ninety-five percent of knowing you're the greatest is all about confidence. You might suspect you're the greatest, you might hope you're the greatest, but if you don't have the balls to proclaim yourself the greatest in bold packaging, and let your critics test you if they dare, then you probably aren't the greatest. Who can resist the guy who really, truly believes in himself?"

She throws the ice cream in the cart, turns, and starts walking down the aisle as I stare after her. And that’s it. If I wasn’t before, I’m ruined for life. Hopelessly. In. Love. The girl is it for me. Yeah, ruined. Happily ruined, standing smack dab in the middle of the ice cream aisle.

I try to pay for her groceries, but she glares at me and pushes my money away. I’m irritated. Something has shifted in my mind. She’s mine and I want more than ever to take care of her. But she’s independent and I know that she needs me to respect that. And I know that that would be true whether she knew who I really was or not.

We make our way back to her apartment. I’m hoping to God she’ll invite me in when we get there. I want to spend more time with her.

"So, can I ask what you meant when you said you didn't give your father much reason to trust you?" she asks, a slight frown on her face. She’s probably wondering if I’m a trustworthy person. I almost groan out loud, guilt washing over me.

I sigh. At least I can tell the truth here. I stare ahead as I say, "I was a screw up of a kid. I was selfish and messed up and I did everything my father hoped I wouldn't do. If it was self-destructive, I was first in line. Not exactly any parent's dream."

She looks at me sadly but doesn’t say anything.

When we get to the front door of her building, she nudges the door open with her foot and passes through.

I feel my jaw tense. "There's no lock on the outside door?"

"Ah, no. I've called the landlord several times, but clearly, it's not his first priority. It's okay. This is a pretty safe neighborhood. No one's gonna step up and call it World's Greatest, but it's decent," she jokes.

I’m pissed. This is unacceptable. I make a mental note to call her landlord the second I get to my office.

We stop just outside her door and I set her grocery bags on the floor and wait for her to take her key out. She doesn’t. "Um, so, thanks, Jake," she says instead, obviously not intending to invite me in. Damn. I can’t really blame her though. I’m practically a stranger as far as she knows. "It was a way more enjoyable trip than I expected it to be." She smiles politely.

Both of our heads turn as a big, beefy black guy, probably in his mid forties, opens his apartment door and stands there with his arms crossed, looking at me suspiciously.

"Hi, Maurice." Evie grins. "This is Jake. I'm good. It's good, um, we're good."

Maurice continues to look at me as if he’s considering whether to tear out my throat with his teeth or his bare hands. I try to diffuse the situation, putting on my most innocent smile and stepping forward. "Maurice," I say.

Maurice finally relents and shakes my outstretched hand. "Jake."

This is good. This guy looks like he could break a normal sized man in half and he’s obviously protective of Evie. Until I can take over the job, Maurice will do.

"Ah, thanks, Maurice. So I'll see you later?" Evie smiles.

Maurice pauses another minute and then, "Right. I'm just inside the door here, Evie. You need me, you call, yeah?"

"Yeah, Maurice," she says softly.

Maurice closes the door to his apartment and I look back at Evie, glancing between her and the door. Still, no go. Alright, plan B. I run my hand through my hair saying a silent prayer that she says yes to my next question. "Okay, I get it. I'm not invited in. Can I at least have your phone number?"

She pauses and I hold my breath. The last time I was nervous about asking a girl out, I was a teenager and it was the same girl.

"Give me your phone," she finally says and I exhale, handing it to her. She programs in her number and hands it back.

I grin at her and turn to walk away, saying, "I'm done stalking you, Evie. We've just elevated our status for real." She has no idea.

She laughs and calls after me. "You take all the fun out of everything. You know that, Jake Madsen?" I walk out the door grinning like a fool.

**********

It takes me almost an hour to find Seth’s small metal marker, half covered with grass and leaves. I squat down and push the debris aside, reading the words, "Seth Michael McKenna, April 7, 1986 to July 27, 2003." No "beloved" or "our little boy," nothing to give any indication that he was anything to anyone. But he was someone to me. My throat locks up as I pluck another leaf off that has just floated down from the large maple nearby. I rest my elbows on my thighs and say out loud, "Hey buddy." I let the silence stretch for long minutes, almost expecting to hear his giggle, his sweet voice saying, "Weeeo."