It was four am, an hour past close, and Jim was the last to leave Nightborn. He’s been double checking the cleanliness of the bar and small kitchen, and made great effort to resist the urge to check the restrooms – someone else was paid to do that, he reminded himself. He’d locked the front doors after the last customer left, and had said goodnight to the last of the employees fifteen minutes prior. The back door was locked now, and he made his way to the lone car in the parking lot. It was cold out – below freezing, in fact. The car was soon started, and the heat turned on full blast as he rubbed his hands together and held them over the vents to get them warm before he started driving home.
His house was near the edge of town – not as far as the ranch lands where Greg’s house stood, but it was far enough from his former homestead to satisfy him. A quick jog up the steps and a short minute later he was inside, door closed behind him, reveling in the warmth of the home. He hung up his coat and moved from the foyer into the living room, where he flipped on a light. Were anyone over, they wouldn’t recognize the place – it was a mess.
It was difficult for his OCD to deal with, the mess…but he was in the process of repainting, remodeling and shifting things around from the basement to the upstairs. It was time, he had decided, for change. The house had been updated with modern appliances, wiring and plumbing where possible – the kitchen and living room meant to be the centerpieces of the house, and his bedroom a sanctuary. The walls were still white, the carpet replaced with hardwood. He gingerly touched a wall to see if the paint had dried while he was working, and smiled a little when it had. Next, he could work on the shelving unit for his music collection. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow I can spend finishing up…then I can finally clean, and feel at ease.
The next day was his scheduled day off, and for once, he was taking it off. He spent the day carefully putting the shelving up and arranging the furniture, before hooking up the electronics and putting his music collection in place. Nearly one entire wall was devoted to it. Over the sofa, he hung his guitar within easy reach, and by dinner, the project was complete. Pausing long enough to eat, he then started the cleaning process, which lasted nearly as long. The entire reason for this, he thought, was to move on with my life – let Anna and Christina go finally, and be a person again, instead of an echo of my former self.
By sunrise he was satisfied with things, and took himself to bed. There would be more work later, at Nightborn, but already he felt a little lighter, a little happier. In the early afternoon he woke up, made himself a meal and then cleaned up after himself. With a whistle of a random tune, he pulled on his coat, locked up and headed out to take care of some errands before work.
Work went fine, as per usual. But he seemed lighter, happier, somehow. Trish even commented on it at one point before she went home for the night. He lightly chided her for doing too much in her condition and she smiled, happy to see him happy. For as long as she could remember, Jim always seemed somber. She hoped that whatever had brought this on was a good thing for him. Over the course of the night, Jim was more open to casual flirtation, and he discovered a few names and numbers written on slips of paper in the tip jar at the end of the night.
I should hook up with someone eventually, maybe. He looked at the slips of paper. I’m not sure I should call these numbers though. I’m older then they are, although I suppose I don’t look it. Jim mused a little. Guess I never paid attention. As work went on, he sparked up a conversation on his breaks with a pretty red haired, blue eyed young woman – one who managed to talk him into having a coffee at the Silver Cafe after he got off work. He agreed, as he’d enjoyed their conversation, though he wasn’t sure they had anything in common.
He was nervous – he hadn’t been around too m any women since his wife’s passing, and wasn’t sure how to behave. The best advice is probably just to be myself – as much as I can be, considering. With a note of hope, he pulled his car to a stop in the cafe parking lot, took a deep breath, and headed inside. As he scanned the room of college students pulling all-nighters while studying for exams, he began to feel deflated, until he noticed her away in the back, waving him over.
“I thought you were going to skip out on me.” she said with a smile.
“To be honest, I was thinking the same.” he said as he pulled out a chair and sat. They both ordered coffee, which arrived in short order.
“I want to be honest with you.” he said. “I haven’t been out with a woman, even casually like this, in a while.”
“It’s okay.” she said. “It’s been a bit for me too. Just consider this two friends hanging out, if that makes things easier.”
“Fair enough.” he replied, picking up his coffee to take a sip. What the hell am I doing? I shouldn’t be here. He ignored his inner voice, just this once, maybe he shouldn’t listen to it.
“So I never did ask.” she said, taking a drink. “What’s your name?”
“Everyone calls me Jim.”
“Hello Jim – I’m Hannah.” she said, offering her hand.
From there, the conversation covered several topics – from current events to music and more. Time went by quickly, and after a while, she gave him a devilish smile. “Why don’t you give me a ride home?”
He agreed, and directed him to her apartment building, where she invited him up. He figured why not, and followed her upstairs. She unlocked her door and let them both inside. The place was clean enough – just not to his standards. A couple of cats came up and rubbed against her legs, but she had other ideas in mind. She backed Jim up against the door and started kissing him intently. While surprised at first, he wasn’t a stupid enough male to realize he shouldn’t reciprocate. They wound up in her bedroom, and he had to say, she was kind of wild. He could more than keep up with her – wore her out in fact. For his part, he wasn’t just grateful for the sex – he was pleased to find out his performance was still up to par.
He woke up around nine am, confused at first, until he remembered. He looked over – she was still asleep. Quietly, he dressed, pausing long enough to scribble down his name and number. She might never call back, but it was worth a try, right? After making sure he had everything, he quietly left the apartment, and then headed home. Not bad old man, not bad. Since he was awake, he walked over, picked up his guitar and began to play – something he hadn’t done seriously since his London punk days.
He was definitely in a good mood. I made the right choice. he thought.