That night after the bar fight, and everyone had finally been gotten home safely, or sobered up, Jim invited Lizzy to come over to his place in Burlington.
She had never been over before. He had been to her house, and even spent the night, but Nicolas was staying at Sky's tonight, so he asked if she wanted to come, and see where he lived.
They were cleaning up, and Jim was giving a few orders to the kitchen employees, who were getting ready to leave as well. He had already turned the 'Well Water' open side around to closed, and turned off the neon sign that read, The Water Well, in huge purple letters, as well as the bright lights that went along the awning.
Lizzy was wiping down tables and chairs, Jim was ringing out the register. Mat and Carla, who worked in the kitchen, as well as doing some serving were cleaning and mopping the kitchen.
By the time they finally finished work, it was 1:00. Lizzy never worked this late when Nicolas was home. He would send her home as early as 9:30, if she needed to get home. Jim was flexible, anyway, but Lizzy being a single mother, he was even more flexible, and treated his other employees well too.
As he locked up, she asked, "I can't leave Rusty," she said. "I need to feed him, and he has to go out."
"We can bring him," Jim decided, "we'll just drive over to your place in two vehicles, you can feed him, and we'll walk him, then leave your truck at your place, take Rusty, and go back to my place in Burlington."
"Oh, okay, that makes sense. You don't mind having a dog in your apartment?"
"No, I own my apartment. Remember? I'm a landlord. There's four apartments in my building, and I rent out the other three. I'm upstairs."
"Oh, yeah, I remember you telling me that." He locked the door, from the outside, and they got in their vehicles, and headed to her house.
"Lizzy," he called through his open window.
She looked at him. "What?"
"We need to get your muffler fixed."
"Oh, yeah, I just keep putting that off."
They arrived at Jim's place in Burlington, with Rocky in the back of his double cab Chevrolet truck.
It was a four apartment building, and the stairs to his were on the right. The two of them climbed the stairs, Rusty in tow.
"I hope it's not messy," Jim said.
"Oh, goodness," Lizzy teased, "that would be a deal breaker."
Jim laughed, and they went in. Rusty ran from room to room, sniffing everything, the way dogs do in new environments. Jim grabbed a stainless steel bowl, and filled it with water from the kitchen tap, placing it on the floor for the dog.
The first room you entered was a mud room, with several jackets, umbrellas, and raincoats on hooks, and lots of snow boots, hiking boots, as well as other boots and shoes.
Then you entered the kitchen, which was mostly white, with oldish fixtures, but very clean. The floors were wooden.
"C'm on, I'll show you around."
She followed him through the archway, on the left, and there was a really cozy living room, with a fire place, a sofa, with some pillows, and two chairs, all earth tones. There was a large book shelf, stocked full of hardcover books, to the left, and a tall vase. The floors were wooden, as well, with one simple Native American rug in the center. There were a stack of Mexican blankets, in the corner, and a two foot tall Buddha statue.
It was simple, but really aesthetic, and tasteful, masculine, but still artistically decorated, and it revealed an esoteric side to Jim, that Lizzy had not been aware of.
There was another shelf to the right, which contained old vinyl records, and above an entertainment center, with a television, DVD player, VHS player, a turn table, and a CD player. Everything was organized, one shelf for DVDs, and so forth, each in the right category.
"Wow, I can't believe you still have vinyl. I still have a couple of mine, but wow, and a turn table, as well. Does it actually work?"
"Yeah, it does. Do you want to pick a record?"
"I will. Can I see your room first. I'm dying to see your whole place."
Next, they went straight through to Jim's bedroom. His bed was made, and it had an ethnic bedspread, with a couple of simple pillows. Above it, was a large picture window. To the left, was a print of the painting, The Scream. She smiled, covering her mouth, about to laugh.
Rusty had followed them into the room, and was sniffing everywhere.
Jim noticed her being tickled by the print. "Yeah, that's how I feel at work, sometimes, like today. Not to mention, the crazy drunk costumers. I wasn't expecting Charlie to come fist fight me today."
Lizzy burst out laughing so hard, her eyes starting tearing, and she was holding her stomach.
Jim laughed too.
"I can't believe what Charlie did." She shook her head. I can't believe he would do that. I'm sorry about that. I think we won't be seeing him around anymore." Part of her felt bad for Charlie. He had been her best friend, but she had no idea how upset about Jim, he had been. She had thought that he was as detached as she was. Well, she knew he liked her a lot, but she did not know he was so upset about her choosing Jim. She felt a little guilty, but put it out of her mind.
"Where's the bathroom?," she asked.
He showed her to the bathroom, off the living room.
"I'll open a bottle of wine," he said. "We have a lot to celebrate, surviving today, for one."
Lizzy had forgotten to put her purse down, so she pulled out her cell phone to check her messages. There were none, which was good, so she set her purse on the bathroom vanity to use the bathroom.
As she washed her hands, she checked her reflection in the mirror. She looked a bit tired, she thought, and her hair was a mess.
She pulled out her brush, from her purse, pulled the scrunchy out of her hair, and brushed it out.
She looked around, to see if there was anything out of the ordinary about Jim. She looked in the medicine cabinet, just razors, shaving cream, tooth paste, dental floss, a toothbrush, some aspirin, some digel, a brush and comb.
"Did you fall in?," he called, from the kitchen.
"I'll be right out," she called. The bathroom was nice too, just plain white fixtures, and a high window in the shower, bath, various shampoos and conditioners, like most people.
She came out. "I just wanted to make sure you were normal," she said, coming out into the living room, where he had set down two glasses of wine, and a plate of cheese and crackers, some chips and salsa.
"Oh, just making sure I'm not a serial killer," he said casually, and deadpan. "I suppose if that were the case you'd already be in the basement tied up with wire, and duck tape on your mouth, and I doubt I'd have let you bring your dog, for fear he might bite me." He was feeding the dog a cracker with cheese on it, but Rusty kept sitting there, drooling, as if he had not been fed, although he had. He was cocking his head from one side to the other. Jim gave him another cracker and cheese.
"Don't give him anymore, Jim. I don't like him begging. He'll never stop. Two is enough. He'll go away if you ignore him long enough, hopefully, anyway."
"C'm on, sit down. I hope pinot noir is good."
"Oh, ha ha about the serial killer joke, by the way," she said, as she sat down next to him, deadpan as well, bantering back.
She was still wearing her black hoodie, which she removed, since Jim had lit a fire. He had a stack of kindling and an ax, on the floor, near the fire.
"You look sexy in the tank top, and your hair down," he said.
She did look nice. Usually she looked almost mousy, in her baggy sweatshirts, and ponytail, always slipping out of place.
"Thanks, you're not bad, yourself," she said, and sipped her wine."
He put his arm around her. She welcomed it.
"So, tell me something," he said. "Why did you choose me over Charlie? Oh, cheers by the way," he said, and clicked his glass to hers.
"Cheers," she said, "do you really want to know the answer to that?"
He looked at her seriously, his gray eyes direct. She thought he looked handsome and rugged in his black t-shirt, with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his faded jeans. His brown hair was slightly graying, brushed back, in a standard, manly haircut.
"Oh, we don't need to go into that. You know as well as I do, that it's bad to talk about old relationships. I mean I never ask you about your ex's, Jim," she protested.
"Well, none of my ex girlfriends came to kick your ass, Lizzy. There's a bit of a difference here."
"You're not jealous, are you?," she asked, seriously.
"No, - I mean, - yeah," he said, seriously, as well. He was being quite earnest.
"You?!," she was surprised at this.
"I don't think you have anything to worry about. Charlie is history. I never felt for him, the way I should have, if it were to be more than a friendship. He was a bit helpful with my kids. It has been hard, but he wasn't quite what I was looking for. He did not really have his act quite together, - and I don't know, maybe just not the right chemistry. I mean, he helped, and I'm grateful, but with all the problems my kids have had, and I've had, I knew, and I think he knew, that he could never really be - uh, I don't know, like maybe, husband material, I guess."
Jim just listened. She had nothing more to say, and sipped her wine.
He kissed her, and said, "so am I?"
"Yeah, Jim, you are."
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