Tiffany wanted to tell her sister that her life was just as perfect as hers, but they'd both know it was a lie.
Where had it all gone wrong with Irwin?
Well, she was the worst... when it came to dating, and with someone who had never dated before..it was becoming a rut.
She knew exactly, how it would go. Sure, he'd take her to a nice restaurant, they'd say nice things to each other. Maybe go out to the lake, the park, even the mall for a stroll. Spend a total of 4 hours together and not saying much of anything.
And then... sex.
Nothing new there. She finally told herself.
How could she introduce her son to someone, she wasn't even so sure she could stand to be with, everyday, all the time.
It took some effort to dress up, wear high heels when her feet ached already from work.
Possibly, she'd set her expectations too high, but she never ever wanted to have someone's favorite bar as her her number one direct dial, again. She wanted a good life, not having to fuss with someone, who never really thought of her feelings for a second.
She didn't want Brick to have that life.
It was true, Irwin was too good. And she was counting the days she'd mess it up.
Like tonight, she told him she was coming down with something. They'd hardly set down to eat at the mid-town happening place, when she told him, he better not get too close.
Now, she was in her flannel pants and tank, channel surfing. Nothing to watch on TV, either.
She looked around the apartment. Things were starting to stack up. She didn't even know where her bra went.
Suddenly, she scurried around as if a clean apartment would mean happiness.
Tiffany worked for a good thirty minutes, or until the kitchen trash was packed tight. At least, the fridge was clean, but now she had nothing to eat.
Still, she was frazzled from all the housework. She struggled another 10 minutes, getting the trash bag out of the plastic canister. Before it was over, Tiffany was in a sweat.
Finally, she lugged the load to the front door, hoping nothing greasy leaked to stain the plush carpet.
She drew a frown. Why did nothing ever work for her?
She plowed on to the cement steps. Her bare feet hardly felt the September cold. Yes, somewhere autumn was lurking, but it was in the far distance, like a cold snap that wouldn't get here for another month or two.
She pulled the heavy trash bag. Onward, she dragged the heap behind her.
And then she noticed some old sneakers in front of her.
"You need, some help with that?" His voice was calm, but she took her time to look up, unsure if she wanted to know who was asking.
Tiffany sighed, as if she didn't really have to have anyone be nice to her.
He only smiled and took the trash from her.
Suddenly, she was alone and she felt the crisp air of fall, finally settling around her.
Who was that tall guy? She winced in thought and hurried back to her apartment door that was now closed tight and LOCKED.
She rubbed her arms frantically as she squinted her eyes shut. This couldn't be happening? Why was this happening? She didn't even have her cell.
He came back up on the landing. He didn't look strange. Hopefully, he wasn't a nice serial killer out for a walk.
"Are you OK?" His simple question gave way to Tiffany in a fit of a stomp, only it hurt her tender feet. She couldn't help but give him a soured look.
"I locked myself out." She finally fessed up.
"We'll call maintenance." He got out his cell. "You, can wait at my place, if you want." After all, he did live next door.
"By the way, I'm Gordy." He said after she'd had her say with the office and handed him back his phone.
Tiffany couldn't think of a thing to say to him, other than to just stare at him, hoping he wasn't looking at her as if she was some helpless woman, all by her lonesome.