"To Jackie." He holds up the glass, and I click my glass with his. He takes a sip of his scotch.
"Who is Jackie?" I ask him, taking a sip of the scotch and then wondering if this is even a good idea.
"Jackie," he says, leaning back against the seat, exhaling. "Is Jennifer’s roommate and her best friend." I hold the glass in my lap as he turns toward me now. "And also the one who Jennifer is in love with." My mouth hangs open. "Yeah, that’s about what I did when she told me."
"So, she’s gay?" I ask him, and I’m trying my best not to laugh at him.
"She isn’t sure," he admits, looking down into his glass of scotch. "But she is sure that she doesn’t want to be married." He chuckles. "At least to me, that is."
I sit here shocked, and I have so many questions to ask. "I," I start to say. "Um, did you not suspect?" I ask him and then hold up my hand. "Sorry, it’s not my place." The butterflies that started have moved to knots that are beginning to move up to my throat.
"It’s fine," he assures me, taking another sip, maybe for courage. "What Jennifer and I had," he says, and it’s safe to say that I don’t even want to know. "It wasn’t what we had."
I shake my head. "You don’t have to say that," I finally say and take my own sip of scotch, hoping it stops me from talking. "What we had. It was a long time ago." I blink and look over at him.
He just looks at me, not saying anything and the car comes to a stop. "Where are we?" I look around and see the white building.
"Well"—he puts his glass down and grabs mine—"it’s a surprise." He opens the car door and steps out. His hand comes into the car to help me out, and I slip my hand in his, stepping out of the vehicle. The sounds of crickets now fills the area as we stand in the empty gravel parking lot.
"Where are we?" I repeat, looking around. I don’t even see a sign or anything.
"You’ll see," he says as he walks backward and pulls me with him. His smile lights up his face, and I am totally out of my mind. I should just end the night now and have the car take me back to my hotel room.
He pulls open the two glass doors, and I hear the sounds of pins being knocked down. "You did not," I say, looking around and then seeing the bowling lanes. I shake my head, thinking back to how he used to take me bowling once a week. No matter what time it was, he would drag me to the bowling alley every Friday night.
I look around and see that there are about four people here. Stopping at the blue counter that is filled with bowling shoes. "What can I do for you?" she asks and then takes in our outfits.
"We will take two games," he says, pulling out his wallet. "Two pairs of shoes, and we need to buy one pair of socks." He points at me. "Also a pitcher of beer."
"Two hot dogs with that and a basket of fries," I add in. "If we are going to bowl, we might as well do it the right way." I smile at him.
The girl hands me a pair of white folded socks and a pair of size seven shoes. "These shoes complete my outfit," I say, looking down at the light white and blue shoes. "I might not return them," I joke, and the girl just stares at me. "Tough crowd," I mumble and step aside while Travis gets his shoes.
"Lane ten." She points at the end of the lane, and I see it’s dark. "It’s disco bowling."
"Oh, fun," I say, walking toward the lane and dumping my purse and shoes there before walking back to Travis. I pick up the pitcher of beer with the red Solo cups while Travis brings the food.
I put the pitcher down at the little table on the side with four seats. I pour two glasses and then walk over to the shoes, taking off my heels, sliding the thick white socks on. "Should I do my socks up or down?" I ask him, laughing at myself while I put on the shoes.
"Only you could make bowling shoes stylish," he says to me, and I shake my head, walking over to the machine and putting our names in it.
"I will have you know." I look over at him as he comes over with the food, putting it down in front of me. "I haven’t played in four years."
"Well, then I guess we are starting off the same," he tells me as he picks up the hot dog and takes a bite out of it.
"You love bowling." I grab my own hot dog and bite into it.
"Yeah, I stopped," he says, taking another bite. "It wasn’t the same without you," he admits for the first time as he brings up the past, making me speechless. "Nothing was the same without you."