From the Journal of Debbie Evans

I couldn’t believe how quickly time passed. Before I knew it, my maternity leave was up, and I needed to return to work. I was both dreading and looking forward to it. I loved my job and was itching to start working on the new campaign I had in mind for the cosmetics company I would soon control. However, I couldn’t leave Nathaniel in the care of just anyone. Having no family and not knowing many people in town left me at a real disadvantage. I needed to know that my baby would be in good hands before I could, in good conscience, return to work.

Once I had taken care of that, I checked in with my attorney. Everything was in order, and I was now the senior owner of the cosmetics company, which I renamed Countess Deborah Cosmetics. With the new name came a campaign to launch a new product line. I was going to be swamped with work at the office, especially in the beginning, but I looked forward to doing more of the work at home once things were put into place.

Surprisingly enough, therapy was going remarkably well. I still had my bad days, but the good ones came more and more often. I wish I could say the house hunting was going as well. So far, I’d been unable to find something I liked or that didn’t cost a fortune to buy.

The first day back was very productive but exhausting. By the time I staggered out of the office and locked up, I wanted nothing more than to go home, spend some time with my baby, have a light meal, and go to bed. What I didn’t expect was to bump into some man in the parking lot.

“Pardon me,” I said, stepping back.

The man shrugged. “No worries. You look like I feel, so you’re allowed a free bump.”

I smiled a little. “I definitely don’t wear the zombie look well, but if it gets me off the hook, I’ll wear it cheerfully.”

He laughed a deep, rich laugh and flashed a brilliant smile at me. “So, you’re the new boss lady of that makeup company, right?”

“That would be me,” I said.

He smiled and nodded. “Your office is across the street from where i work. The name’s Maldonado. Terrill Maldonado.” He offered me his hand.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Maldonado, Terrill Maldonado,” I said, taking his offered hand and feeling mine dwarfed in his strong, sure one. His handshake was firm but not overbearing, which I liked. “I’m Debbie Evans. Pleased to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine, Ma’am,” he said, then let go of my hand almost as quickly as he’d taken it.

I looked down at my shoes, not knowing what else to say. “I guess I should be going. It’s getting late and I need to get home to my son.”

I saw him glance at my left hand, but he didn’t ask me anything about a husband I didn’t have. “How old is your son?” he asked.

I smiled proudly; I never tired of doting on my little boy. “He’s six months.”

“They’re cute at that age,” he said.

I nodded, then turned toward my car.

“It was nice talking to you, Debbie,” Terrill said.

I turned and waved at him over my shoulder.

“Maybe we can do it again sometime,” he called to me as I put more distance between us.

I shrugged noncommittally,  then quickened my pace until I reached my car. I pictured his smile as I slid into the driver’s seat, then shook my head to clear away the image. He seemed like a nice enough man, but I wasn’t interested in starting up a friendship or anything with him. My life was complicated enough without adding further elements to it.

Weeks turned into months. Each day when I went into work, Terrill would see me and wave. I’d wave and smile back, but it never went any farther. The same thing happened if we saw each other at the end of our day. His smile was free and easy, but there were times I swore I detected a look of deep sadness in his eyes.

Nathaniel’s first birthday arrived, and I gave him a little party even though it was just the two of us. He was too young to really understand it, but he cooed excitedly at the balloons I hung up.

My baby was growing up before my eyes and it made me rather sad. I wanted to make his first birthday a happy one, but I couldn’t help stealing a moment to have a little cry.

I bought a birthday cake and blew out the candles for him. “You’re too young to make a wish, sweetheart, but Mommy wishes you could stay little a while longer,” I whispered, holding him close.

Nathaniel loved the peg box and xylophone I bought him. I suppose I’m a bit biased being his mother and all, but my son is quite gifted for his age.

Potty training is a dirty job, but someone had to do it, and that someone was Mom. Luckily, he learned fairy quickly.

Learning to walk and talk also came quickly. I almost cried when the first word he said was “Mama.”

Juggling work and Mom duties wasn’t easy, but I managed. It didn’t leave me much time for making friends or having time to myself, which my therapist pointed out. To my chagrin, she told me I should get out more by myself. “You’re a single hard-working mother, but you’re also a woman named Debbie Evans. You need to find out who Debbie Evans actually is,” she told me during one session.

I silently contemplated her words. “Well, Debbie Evans likes to sculpt,” I said lamely.

“Good! That’s great to have a hobby, but there’s so much more to explore,” my therapist said. “At least keep it in mind. Before our next session, how about if you make a list of things you think you may like or want to try, places you’d like to go. Think about the kind of people you’d like to meet or if there is anyone in particular you’d like to get to know better.”

I sighed. “You’re a hard taskmaster,” I told her, but I couldn’t help smiling a little.

After my session, I had to get back to work. I was running a little late because my therapist allowed me a little extra time today. I quickly pulled into the parking lot and locked my car, then absently waved to Terrill, who must have been either going back to work or leaving for lunch. I started to sprint toward my building, but Terrill called my name and caught up to me. “Hey, Debbie, where’s the fire?” he asked, an easy smile on his handsome face.

“I’m late,” I said simply.

“Everything okay?”

“Fine,” I said a little hurriedly.

“I’m glad. Hey listen. It’ll be noon in a while, and I was wondering if you’d have lunch with me today.” Well, where had that come from? The surprise must have shown on my face because he elaborated. “I’d been wanting to ask you for a while but could never get up the nerve until now.” He blushed and smiled sheepishly.

Oh God, I didn’t want to be rude, but I had no desire to get involved with anyone again. I didn’t even want friendship. I knew form personal experience how much that could hurt. “Terrill…Mr. Maldonado…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s just lunch. No strings, just two working stiffs having lunch. What’s the harm in that…unless you have a husband or…?” His words trailed off as he studied the ground.

I hesitated but felt my resolve slipping a little. The words of my therapist came to mind. This was a perfect opportunity to actually have some adult conversation and social time. When I looked into his face, I couldn’t take the pleading look in his eyes. “I have no husband or any significant other. I…okay. I’ll have lunch with you, but no strings.”

“No strings,” he said, nodding. “How about the bistro at noon sharp?”

“Okay. Why not?”

I chided myself the whole time as I made my way to my office. Why in hell had I agreed to this? This could only mean trouble, and more trouble was the last thing I needed in my life right now.