Mac manages to sucker me into Beltway Burgers while I am distracted with how to make my opening statement on the subject of "us." At this point, I think it's almost the best thing to just let the chips fall where they may and see how our relationship develops. No more hiding, or running, or denying. Try and be like normal people in a relationship.
I wonder if that's even remotely possible with us.
Mac chatters nonstop, from when we first entered the restaurant, to where we are now, seated in a booth in Hamburger Hell. She pauses to take a bite of her ¼ lb. meat patty, and I jump in.
"Mac, look, about us," I say, wishing I had thought this conversation through. Maybe practiced a little. Wrote a script. Adlibbing is not a wise move with Mac on this topic.
"Harm—" she says, although it sounds like "Hrmpf" with her mouth full. She almost chokes on her sandwich. I plunge ahead.
"I just wanted to say that, you know, things have been good between us lately—really good. We're getting back to our friendship, you know?"
She coughs spasmodically, a few bits of hamburger lodging in the wrong place of her throat, and nods. I told her this stuff would probably kill her.
"And then, a couple of weeks ago, things…things really got interesting." I stare down at my greasy, unappetizing fries. "I mean, you and I teasing—which is nothing new—" I add quickly, before she can say anything. Out of the corner of my eye I see her nod, and the hint of smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "But, the flirting—I guess that's nothing new, either—but…even though I feel bad about misleading you about the seats, I really liked…you know, all the attention…and us…flirting, and stuff, and…" God, this is terrible. Think, Rabb, think.
"I think I know what you mean," Mac says, saving me from certain serious-conversation death.
"It was nice to—well, to act like, maybe two people who could be a couple," she says the last with a question in her inflection.
"Yeah. Exactly. I liked that, Mac." I look into her eyes for a moment, and then stare back down at my fries. I pick a small one out of the box and pop it into my mouth. Ugh. How can Mac stand this place?
"It was nice not to have to think all the time about what we were doing and saying and…and all that other crap that's always—it was nice just to go on impulse. Feel."
Okay, Rabb. Now that really sounded stupid. I look at Mac helplessly, hoping I can make her understand what exactly I mean, but she's watching me closely, a soft smile lighting up her features. Maybe she does understand.
"Yes, it was. It was very nice," she agrees. "That's something I want to talk to you about, Harm." I'm not sure what I should say, so I wait for her to continue. She dusts the salt off her fingers with a napkin, and takes a sip of her cola before she elaborates.
"Maybe…maybe it would be a good idea to not—not do so much thinking with "us," and maybe just see where our hearts…our feelings take us. Let things be as they may without fighting our feelings, or each other. If it's meant to be--" she pauses for a deep breath. "it's meant to be."
I let out a sigh of relief. I personally believe it's meant to be. She's the only woman I've ever felt this way about before. Not even Diane.
"That's what I was thinking," I tell her. She smiles. I smile. We sit there, grinning like two idiots at each other, in the middle of a Beltway Burgers restaurant.