Do you come here often?

This was the reason, the real reason he had agreed to meet her.  He had created the comic drama around this supposedly ridiculous dating situation with his friends when he was really searching for his Mother in this girl he had followed every day in the preceding weeks.  He had seen her at the two different schools she dropped and collected her kids from every day in her beat up car.  He had gotten drunk in the hope of dampening down any thoughts of romance and that they would flee like rats from a sinking ship.  He didnt want to have that conversation with anyone.  “I don’t fancy you that way’.  I am not ready for anything serious or unserious for that matter’. ‘Do you come here often?’, she asked him seemingly unaware of the usual meaning conveyed in that question.  ‘Yes’, he answered.  He thought of himself grabbing his keys and heading to her house often at night if not every night last week.  He sat outside parked across the street watching to get any information on her life that might allow him to piece together something about the type of person she is.  

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