Chapter 4

Visitor parking was filled at Amy's apartment so I parked on the street. It took extra time to find her unit because while her number was 116 which usually meant the first floor, it was on the second floor. For some reason the apartment complex chose the algorithm of putting odd numbers on the bottom floor and even numbers on the second.

"Flowers!" Amy said when she answered my knock. "You didn't have to get me more flowers!"

"A pretty woman always should have two colors," I smoothly said.

"Come on in," she said smiling. "Have a seat. I'm almost ready."

"You already look perfect," I complimented.

She grinned and headed into her bedroom.

It was completely strange but I could come up with witty things to say and could speak them confidently. I was sure it wasn't because I was John Coleman. He was too much like the adult Chris Walker. Something changed in a mere week. I really was a different man and I liked it a whole lot.

I sat in a cushy chair in the living room.

"You can sit on the couch. I don't bite," Amy's roommate said. The blonde woman, who was about Amy's age, sat on one end of the couch.

"Yes but I do," I teased.

She smiled and stuck out her hand. "I'm Debbie."

"John," I said, shaking her limp hand.

"So where are you going?"

"Nothing fancy. Dinner and a movie."

"What are you going to see?"

"Terms of Endearment."

"Oh, I want to see that."

"I hated it, but it's a good chick flick."

"You've already seen it?" Debbie questioned.

"No," I hastily covered. "It might be okay, but you know us guys. I'd rather go see the new James Bond or Dirty Harry movie, but they're not real great for a date."

"What's not real great?" Amy said, returning. I couldn't discern any differences in her appearance.

"Not telling you how beautiful you are every five minutes. That wouldn't be great at all."

Amy smirked like she didn't believe me.

"Watch this guy," Debbie warned. "He seems rather quick with the tongue."

"Isn't he?" she grinned.

"It's hard to believe this is the same guy. You said he never talked at all."

I said, "I believe in the power of change."

"Go on!" Debbie said, waving us out. "At least I have Bobby Ewing to keep me company."

"Who?" I said. The name sounded familiar.

"Dallas," said Amy.

"I'll let you know what happens," Debbie informed, "unless you'll be home in time to watch it." She said the last in a teasing manner looking at me.

Oh! Dallas! I remembered. Had J.R. been shot yet? It was better not to ask the question.

"She won't be home in time," I told Debbie.

I took her to a nice steak restaurant. I ordered chicken and she had fish.

Amy was the youngest of three children. Her brother was the oldest and she had a middle sister. She moved to the city to go to college and stayed after she graduated. She wanted to work at a hospital but they weren't hiring. She lucked into the school job but still hoped to work at a hospital eventually. The school nursing job didn't pay very well. A roommate was a necessity for Amy to make ends meet.

When she asked about me, I gave her a mixture of fact and fiction. I was an only child which was true. Both my parents dying in an auto accident from a drunk driver when I was nineteen was false. I never married was true.

"Growing up alone and losing your parents, it's no wonder you lived in a shell for so long," Amy sympathized.

I regretted lying but the truth would only encourage her to tell me to see a doctor again and this time it would be a head doctor. I was in crazy, unbelievable circumstances, but I didn't need a shrink. Of course if I was crazy how would I know?

At the movie theater, I immediately missed the modern arena-style seating. As the film ran, I recalled the plot. It was a manipulative tearjerker that won the Best Picture award and I didn't like it any better this time. When we left the theater and Amy still sobbed, I wondered if it was such a good idea to take her to such a movie. It didn't leave a happy first date impression. The only good thing about it was my arm around her waist and her head was on my shoulder as we walked to the car.

"Do you want to go to Starbucks and talk?" I asked. I wanted to end on a much higher note.

"Starbucks?" she questioned.

"Yeah, I'm not a coffee drinker but I don't want tonight to end yet."

Amy's eyes cleared up. She smiled and said, "I don't want it to end either. I've had a very fun time."

I took a deep breath to strengthen my nerve and wiped a tear from under her eye. She didn't flinch or look repulsed or tell me to "fuck off!" Hey! I could do this dating thing!

"I wanted to see this movie," she said. "I'm glad you didn't take me to Sudden Impact. I'm not into watching guys get shot."

Okay, so skipping on Clint Eastwood tonight was indeed a good thing.

"Maybe you'd want to see guys get shot another night?" I gently suggested, hoping she'd be agreeable to a second date.

"Maybe," she said with a shy smile.

"I'll take you home," I said.

"I'm serious that I'm not ready to go home yet either."

"Starbucks then?"

"Where's that?"

Oh! Starbucks were so numerous in my day like an invading army carrying coffee grinders that I didn't realize how fast they became ubiquitous.

"I forgot. They're not open right now," I said.

"Could we go to your place for a nightcap?" she suggested.

"I don't drink coffee or alcohol, but you're welcome to come over." I didn't like how that came out. It sounded too much like my old self.

"That's okay. I just want to be with you a little longer."

"Good. It will give me a chance to make you happy after watching this movie."

"I'm happy!" she said. She straightened up and wrapped her arm in mine.

"Here it is!" I said, opening the door to my apartment. "Fantastic, isn't it?"