Their dinner was only on Tuesday because it had been rescheduled from the past two weekends. She canceled two weeks ago Friday and Quint canceled last Saturday — another sign the relationship was destined to end. Jen hoped to have the guts to pull a Dr. Kevorkian after dinner. She got ready like she did for any other date, with a lot of primping and makeup touchups, but her heart wasn’t into it. She was just going through the motions. Quint didn’t shave and didn’t even change his coffee-stained shirt. Neither of them had any idea how the other one felt, but they both assumed a breakup would be difficult for the other.
“I’m here,” Quint said from his car phone, once he was parked outside Jen’s apartment building. It was the first time he hadn’t gone up to the door to meet her.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” she tried to say cheerfully. She used the extra time to slam down what remained of the second glass of merlot she had poured herself.
As she climbed into Quint’s car, they gave each other a smile and a quick kiss on the lips. Feeling a bit awkward, Jen rubbed her hand on Quint’s knee and said, “It seems like it’s been forever. I’m glad we’re finally together.”
“Me, too,” Quint responded, never taking his eyes off the road.
“I’m looking forward to El Cantita,” Jen said, hoping to spark some kind of conversation.
“It’s supposed to be good,” Quint answered unenthusiastically.
The rest of the drive to El Cantita was silent. Once seated, they immediately ordered drinks. Both stammered to start a conversation that would last more than a few minutes. Jen noticed the couple next to them was in their “honeymoon” stage — unable to keep their hands off each other and oblivious to the world around them.
“What are you looking at?”
Page 70
