Pieces of Dreams. Donna Hill

      “I have a better idea. I, uh, try to be careful what I eat…these days. So why don’t I fix some snacks and we can take them to the park?”

      “Well, I don’t want to just be bringing my long arms. What can I do?

      “Hmmm. Bring a blanket and something to drink. Juice or water,” she added quickly.

      Guess she didn’t drink, I thought, and stored the information away. “No problem. I think I can handle that. Is six good?”

      “Fine.”

      I let out a relieved breath. “So…I’ll see you tomorrow at six.”

      “Yes. Six. I’m working tomorrow, so you can pick me up here.”

      “Yeah, me, too. I’ll be there. Good night, Maxine.”

      “Night.”

      And it was then I knew I wanted to say good night to Maxine every night of my life.

      By the time I pulled up across the street from Sherman travel for my date with Maxine, I was shaking like something with a bad case of the willies. I’d been pretty much useless at work, couldn’t stay focused. All I could think about was that I wanted tonight to be perfect. I knew I was acting like this was the first time I’d been out with a woman, which was far from true, but I couldn’t get rid of that twitchy sensation in my stomach. And if CJ said, “Just be cool,” one more time, we would come to blows.

      “Maybe Tracy and I’ll come and check you out at the park,” he’d said just before we got ready to head out for the day.

      Although most computer firms did the regular five day, nine to five, WebMasters was a twenty-four hour, seven-day-a-week operation. I couldn’t count the times in the beginning when we got calls at home in the middle of the night from clients whose systems went down. After a few months of that, we decided to expand the hours. Then it was days. It was rough at first with the small staff, but now twenty-four-seven was a way of life.