***In case I don't get the chance to post before then (which I hopefully will), have a Happy Easter! Eat too many marshmallow peeps and jellybeans. Have a blast.***
Norman chuckled to himself as his daughter's face filled his tv screen. This episode was a couple season's old, and she was complaining about greenhorn Jake. He briefly considered continuing to flip around for something to occupy his evening, but decided an episode or two couldn't be all that terrible. It's not like Kjiersten was home to make fun of him for it, anyway. He picked up his beer and frowned to see that the bottle was empty.
"Figures," he muttered, lumbering into the kitchen for a fresh bottle. He grabbed a Budweiser and was just turning back towards the living room when his cell phone rang. The number was unfamiliar, but he risked it and answered anyway. "Hello?"
"I've been watching Deadliest Catch all day, and I've seen you talk once. Once, Norman. Glad to see it wasn't personal!"
"Dana?" he frowned, pulling his phone away to stare at it. After shaking his head of a few ridiculous ideas, he put it back to his ear. "How'd you get my number?" He thought for a moment, then added, "It was Edgar, wasn't it?"
"Wild horses couldn't drag the answer out, Norman. I have my sources, just accept that."
"Are you drunk?" he smirked.
"I had a quarter of a Corona two hours ago, decided I didn't like it, and switched to Mountain Dew. Other than a wicked caffeine rush and a bit of a sugar high, I'm fine. But, I'm bored. Are you bored?"
"I'm mostly just confused right now."
"I have that effect on people," she laughed. Norman rolled his eyes as he sank back into his chair and muted the TV. "And don't roll your eyes at me either."
"Sorry."
"S'okay. A little birdy told me you live in Seattle, correct?"
"I do. This the same bird that gave you my number?"
"Ummmm…that's a possibility." He chuckled at her energy. "Now, I also happen to be in Seattle, and I know of a cute little Italian place with the most amazing pasta, owned by these brothers that came over from the old country, no lie. It's amazing. We should go."
"Are you…" Norman frowned at his unopened beer. "Are you asking me out, Dana?"
"Might be. You coming? Because I might have presupposed your answer and already made reservations. Think you could be ready in, say, an hour?"
"Please tell me he didn't give you my address, too."
"Don't worry," she laughed. "But it's Seattle; I'm sure I can be there in an hour."
"What makes you think I'm alright with this?"
"You haven't hung up yet."
"Are you always this forward?" he grinned.
"Only with the strong, silent types. I love it when guys avoid me like the plague. Now, gimme your address."
"No," Norman shook his head, "we should at least do some of this right. I'll pick you up. Do I have to dress up for this?"
She laughed. "Find jeans without fish-gut stains, okay?"
He had to admit, as strange as the situation was, he was glad Dana called. Even though he wanted Kjiersten to have her own life and was glad his brothers had family and friends to come home to, nights like this made him feel alone. And when he was alone, he really missed her. He had come to terms with Hanna's death long ago, or at least he thought so, but being all alone in the house on a cold night with nothing but a bottle of beer and the television for company sure made her absence strong.
Dana lived in the left half of a duplex with no obvious dividers other than two garage doors right next to each other in the double-wide driveway. He parked at the curb to avoid her housemates, who were on the lawn either in the middle of a domestic dispute or a simple heated debate about their broken taillight. Dana didn't give him the time to decide whether he should maybe intervene on the woman's behalf, even though she looked like she could easily handle the stick of a man she was snapping it, because she came jogging down her steps quickly and passed by the couple without even a sideways glance.
"Sorry about my neighbors," she announced as she plopped into the passenger's seat of his truck. "They're the most adorable couple you'll ever meet, but once every six months they have the fight to end all fights for the whole of Seattle to witness."
"Should we call someone?"
"Like, the police?" Dana raised her eyebrows as she pointed out the turn he needed to take. "Nah, they're harmless. I've never seen them lay a hand on each other. Sweet kids, really." She glanced over her shoulder at nothing in particular and motioned to the next turn, which he dutifully took. "Now, um, much as I love you humoring me like this…you sure I'm not interrupting some father-daughter time here? I didn't mean to pull you away from Kjiersten or anything."
He chuckled. "No, no, she's hanging out with Josh tonight. They do this thing when we get back from fishing where they check their messages and e-mails and stuff. She's gone for the night."
"And you just let her spend the night at his house like that?"
"You don't know how it is with them," he shrugged. "Kjiersten doesn't really have girlfriends. There's one, Ani, but that's it really. Josh is her best friend; they've been through hell and back together. I trust him."
"Do you trust her?"
Norman raised his eyebrows and pulled his truck into the first spot he saw. It was a good thing he liked Dana, because this place was barely more than a sign on the side of a building. Closer inspection showed that they had to walk around back to get in or else they'd have to cross through the bar. Normally, that sounded like a great plan but, in clean jeans and the new pull-over Kjiersten had just bought him to "add variety to his dull and boring wardrobe" with a strawberry blonde on his arm? He wasn't about to put on a show.
"She's not the one I'd be worried about if I was worried," he insisted, holding open the door to both be gentlemanly and to give himself a good view of Dana's legs. Despite his utter lack of interest in the fashion world, he knew what looked good when he saw it. And that black tank-top dress with the rose-patterned skirt? He liked that. "But I'm not. They're good kids with good heads on their shoulders. And Josh knows who he'd have to deal with if there was any funny business."
"Funny business?" she smirked as the hostess led them to their table. "Is that what the kids call it nowadays? Because we used to just, oh…thank you," she slid into the chair he pulled out for her and took her menu from the hostess. "Just water for me."
"Same," he nodded, and the woman left them to their own devices in the corner of the quiet, dimly lit room. He had to admit, the place was cozy, and the two 40-something Italian men lingering in the front having a good laugh that managed to look like a fight was somehow comforting.
"Anyway," she continued. "Funny business. We just used to call it sex back in the day."
"Geeze, Dana!" he hissed, checking over his shoulder to see if anyone had overheard. Content that they hadn't, he spun back around. "Why don't you say it louder next time?"
"Oh, lighten up, Norman. You're right; Kjiersten does have a good head on her shoulders, and I think it's great that she has a guy she can just go to, no questions asked, and not have all those stupid things to worry about, like if the lighting makes her look wrinkly."
Norman chuckled. "The lighting doesn't make you look wrinkly. And compared to me, you're practically a kid."
"Practically. But not," she shook her head and casually flipped through her menu. "There's, what, 10 years between us? Give or take a few. That's hardly anything in the grand scheme, isn't it? I'm thinking the gnocchi with butter thyme sauce. Sounds perfect right now. You?"
"I…um…" he flipped open his menu. "Haven't looked yet."
"Don't make me order for you," she teased. "Who's the man on this date?"
"Hey, now, I picked you up, didn't I? It's not my fault you got yourself all sugar-high and set this thing up!" he defended. When the waitress came with their drinks, he ordered the first thing his eyes landed on and just prayed he pronounced it right to the girl. He could tell by the way she talked and laughed with the men up front that they were all related. A family business. He had to respect that.
"I hold nothing against you," she shook her head. "I'm actually really glad you agreed to come, and not just because I know you'd never ask me out yourself."
"Excuse me?" he challenged.
"Oh, c'mon, like you ever would have made the first move. We were either going to dance around this next season or get it out of the way now. Either tonight goes great and Discovery realizes they can never put a camerawoman on a boat with any potentially unfaithful men, or tonight sucks and we have nothing to worry about. That's not the point. The point is that you saved me from drowning my sorrow in beer I don't even like, devouring an entire meat lover's pizza, and watching Deadliest Catch until 2 in the morning."
"What happened?" He anticipated her lie that nothing was wrong and gave her the even, steady gaze that made Kjiersten and his brothers all squirm until they confessed everything.
"I mentioned I used to be married, right?" He nodded. She stabbed her pasta harshly and popped it into her mouth. For a moment, she was lost in the delicious food, but she snapped back. "We were a damn good couple when we first got married. When we found out I…couldn't conceive, though, it broke us. Well, I can conceive, but it's damn unlikely. Nate came from a big family, so having kids was really important to him. I felt like I'd let him down somehow, and he never tried to convince me otherwise. I mean, I know he didn't want me to feel that way, but at the same time I know he was disappointed. There was nothing he could say that I wouldn't see right through, so he just didn't say anything at all. We tried for a while, you know, to pick up and carry on. But…" she shook her head, "we couldn't. And we lost it. He's remarrying now, with my old college roommate. They want me to come to the wedding. The split was so mutual, we keep acting like we're friends through all of it, but I really just want to forget about that whole period of my life. If I could completely erase my 20s, I would. He keeps calling to convince me to come to the wedding, even if I won't be part of the bridal party, which I fucking won't," she stabbed her pasta forcefully. "I shake off the calls eventually, but I'd rather shake it off by eating pasta-goodness with you than drinking alone."
"Does he call you often?" She shook her head and took a content sip of water, but he didn't feel nearly as calm about all of this. "He shouldn't be calling you at all. You need to do something."
"There's nothing I can do. We're supposed to be friends; it's not his fault I need to erase him to move on. I've looked into restraining orders, but our split was amicable so there's no legal reason, and it would be silly; he'd never hurt me. We just didn't work out, and most of the time, things are totally fine. It's not a big deal." He shifted in his seat to explain why exactly it was a big deal, but he couldn't quite make words come out when she put her hand on top of his. "Really. I don't want to talk about it. The point of tonight is to forget all that. I'm sure you have some shit you'd like to forget, too. We can talk about all that stuff some other day, huh? Just not tonight. Deal?"
Norman licked his lips. He had a delicious-smelling plate of food in front of him and a beautiful woman across from him, two things that he had no business having. He could enjoy it for one night, right? Forget being Norman Hansen, Kjiersten's dad and 1/3 owner of the Northwestern. Tonight, would it be so bad to just be Norm, the guy treating Dana Camden to a really great meal?
"Deal."