Chapter 4 Wendy’s POV

Me being who I am I walked away. Fast. I’m a literal and figurative track star.

Run Wendy. Run from your issues. That’s healthy right. You’re fast who cares.

His loud footsteps got louder and started to overpower my thoughts.

Is he running?

“Hey! Hey wait up!” I heard in a very deep sultry voice.

Fuck…

I stopped in my tracks and slowly spun to see that he was quickly closing the distance between us. As he got within normal conversation distance he said “I’m sorry, but when a girl like you smiles at me, I can’t just let you walk away without knowing your name.” he said in a laughing tone. “Hi sorry, you looked busy, my name is Wendy.” “Wendy, huh? That’s not a name you hear very often anymore. It’s very pretty. My name’s Duke. Duke Forester.” “Nice to meet you Duke… and Thanks, my parents are old.” Then I shook his hand like we were closing some kind of business deal followed by a slight pause.

What the fuck was that? My parents are old?

“Oh ok so old soul vibes I like it. Do you live around here or are you just visiting?” He asked as he was trying to recover for the both of us here. “I live here, just about two blocks away with some friends.” I responded. “Oh cool so you’re super local - so the Red Sox hat isn’t just a prop to pick up guys?” He asked with some intent and I immediately looked down grabbing the brim of my hat and I could feel my cheeks getting red. “Is that all it takes?” I said playfully but making eye contact this time.

Bitch you know how to flirt - get your shit together.

“It depends…. how much do you actually know about baseball?” He asked with a playful tone. “Enough to know they’re a baseball team.” He laughed at my answer and didn’t push baseball trivia any further.

“What about coffee - do you like coffee?” He asked lowering his tone to be a bit more sultry and confident. “Of course, I feel like coffee is an American right of passage - you have to love it right?” I returned trying to sound witty. He smirked and nodded. “Would you be open this afternoon to meeting me for a cup of coffee to chat more about all of your impressive baseball wisdom and favorite American past times?” He asked.

I closed my eyes and gave a soft smile with a nod. I had a free afternoon. “3pm work for you? There’s a place around the corner ‘Boozey Rooster’ it’s a coffee shop… not a strip club I swear” he said with jest. I liked him. He had that snap that intrigued me. “Yeah I know that place, I’ll see you there at 3.” I said as I was turning away and waving. Not offering him my phone number like I think maybe he was expecting.

I couldn’t tell if I was excited to meet him or just excited for a date. On the contrary to most single girls opinion. I loved being single. I loved dating. Good dates. Bad dates. All the in between. I felt it was so liberating to explore myself and what I liked and what I didn’t like. In my mind, it was strategic.

My belief was that I had to kiss a lot of frogs to know when the right one actually came around. That it would also make me a better mom if I ever had a daughter. I would have real life advice to share with her when she was ready.

I also selfishly loved getting to date myself in the process as well. Which is something women don’t do enough in today’s world. Every date good or horribly wrong - I learned something new about myself and it forced me to grow.

I dated some great guys and wow I dated some losers. Hoping today’s date with Duke wasn’t memorable in well… the worst way.