Life and Times at Lake Conroe 3

So often in my life, when faced with choices I see as difficult, I've been told "Follow your heart and you cannot go wrong." But what if your heart tells you to hang on to someone you cannot have? They say you can't control whom you fall in love with. I must say I agree with that. But what if the one you fall in love with is already married? Someone who has been only a friend. Someone you never thought you would ever fall for.

I remember the first time I ever saw him.

I first met Samuel, when I worked at Lake Conroe Exxon the first time. I started there on February 26, 2008. After three nights of training, I had the store to myself, for the first time, on February 29, 2008. Raj had trained me to close early, around 9:30, when the store was supposed to close at 10 pm. I closed the store on time, as I'd been trained to do. I believe it was March 5, 2008-a Wednesday, I think. This particular night, it had been busy. I was hurriedly trying my best to do all the closing procedures. Customers kept coming in. It was getting busy. So it was already 10: 15, and I wasn't closed yet.
I had written down everything I needed to, including lottery ticket numbers.

Suddenly, a short, cute Mexican guy walked through the door. He was dressed like a chef. He came through the door, glanced at me, and froze in his tracks. He just stared at me, for several seconds. The look on his face was total shock. I looked at him. Something about him caught my attention. I had a strange feeling come over me. Something about those eyes. I smiled and said hello. He gave me a brief smile and came on over to the counter, watching me shyly, then named the scratch-off tickets he wanted. When he paid and I handed them to him, he immediately headed to the back of the store. The spot that became his traditional scratch-off spot. Something about him drew me in, immediately, and within a few nights of his coming in regularly, I found myself looking forward to it.

I found myself very attracted to him, and we flirted playfully. Nothing really behind it. Just laughing and joking. On the nights he was off, I felt bummed out. It seemed that, no matter how bad my day had been, all he had to do was walk through that door, and I felt better. And the reverse was true, as well: no matter how good my day had been, it didn't end well, if he didn't walk through that door.

After about three weeks, I asked him his name. "Samuel," he said.

I smiled. "Melissa," I told him, and shook his hand. That was the night he asked if I was married. "No," I answered. But I found myself talking to him about Al. Then he talked about his wife. All I could think was: "He's married. So much for that one." And I shut off the attraction I felt for him. Yet we continued to become friends.

But, oddly, when I moved back to Texarkana, Samuel never really entered my thoughts. My mind was consumed by the dreams about the Ring, and the Elephant. The brown eyes I was being drawn to.

It was about a week after I started back at Lake Conroe Exxon that he walked through that door again. In the exact same manner. He stepped through and froze. This time, he smiled a big, huge grin. A chef at Walden, he always comes in wearing the chef's jacket, and buying lottery scratch-offs. As long as he was winning, he'd keep getting more. When he hit a losing streak, he'd be done, heading home.

"Well, hello, stranger," I said, smiling at him.

"You're back," he said happily.

"I just couldn't stay away," I joked. Then began talking to him about my experiences in Texarkana. I have never understood what it was about him that made me talk so openly to him. I've never opened up so easily to anyone.

Things continued as normal, until I got interested in the stock boy, Javier. As before, I really looked forward to Samuel making an appearance, and was pretty bummed out, when he didn't come in.

The night Javier and I tried communicating, Samuel came in. On this particular night, I asked him, "Do you do translations?" After all, he's a naturalized citizen from Mexico. Fluently bilingual.

He glanced at me. "Sometimes, I'm asked to do that."

"Can you teach me?"

"I'm not much of a teacher. But if there's something you want to have translated, I can do that."

"I'm having trouble talking to the stock boy that works here. He speaks no English; I speak very limited Spanish. It's a bit of a problem."

He nodded. "I can see where it would be." So I talked to him a little about Javier. Samuel's hand froze from scratching the ticket. "Is this for work?"

I grinned. "No."

He smiled at me. "For you?" I just nodded. "Aren't you married?"

I stared at him, confused. "No. I'm divorced."

He stared at me, totally shocked. Finally, he gave me a couple of phrases to ask.

Samuel came in, the night that my van broke down. He hadn't been in there, in a few days. "Well, hey, there," I said with a grin. "You haven't been in, in a while."

"I've been working late," he said, with a grin. We talked about my situation with the van, and he had no way of helping me out, either. He seemed upset, though. So I changed the subject. "You know, those conversation starters you gave me were just that: Starters."

He laughed at me, as I described that conversation with Javier. "So, how do I ask if he's got a girlfriend or if he's married?" He told me the phrases. I handed him one of the mini paper sacks and a pen. "Here, write that down."

He ended up jotting several phrases for me. As he was teaching me the phrases, I leaned across the counter. Then he leaned across the counter, nervously playing with the ink pen. Intently studying my face, as I studied the paper. He read the phrases, then pointed to one and said, "Say that one."

"Me gustas?" I looked up at him.

He gazed into my eyes. "It means, 'Do you like me?'" After a moment, he pointed at the next one. "Say that one."

"Te gusto." I looked up at him, again.

He was staring deeply into my eyes. "That one means, 'I like you.'" Then he pointed at another one. "That one means, 'Do you have any kids?'" He looked into my eyes again. "Do you have any kids?"

I sighed. "Yes. I have a daughter. She's nine. She's in Alabama, living with my cousin, right now."

He watched me. "Why?" he asked softly.

I looked away. "When I was coming back down here, I knew I'd probably be homeless. I couldn't do that to her." I looked at him. I was playing with the paper, and noticed he was still playing with the pen. I'd learned about body language, a long time ago. And decided to test a theory. I suddenly stood up, to comment on one of the phrases.

He dropped the pen and knocked over the small rack with the energy shots, standing straight up, to mirror my action. After a moment, I leaned back across the counter, putting my chin in my hand. He mirrored my action. I put my hand down, playing with the paper, as we chatted. He put his hand down and started playing with the pen, again. I thought on that. He was purposely mirroring my actions. That told me he was trying to get my attention. But why?

Then came the day, after David and I left the Lodge Motel and were living in the van. We had been trying to find a place to live. Karim had called me to come in early, because Raj had called in "sick."

"Yeah, he's sick all right," David laughed. "That's called the 'tequila bug'!"

So I was at work at 2:45 pm. Three hours early.

Around 10:40 pm, Samuel walked through the door. "And just where have you been?" I jokingly asked.

He grinned at me. "Where have you been?"

So I filled him in on all that had been going on. That's when I noticed his hair had grown out somewhat. That caught my attention. "Your hair's grown out," I said quietly. He gave me a look indicating he didn't like it. He looked toward the scratch-offs, to start naming off the ones he wanted, but I was still staring at him. He froze, glancing back at me. Then he grinned. I shook it off and continued with his tickets.

As he scratched his tickets, we chatted. I reminded him that he'd said before, if I had anything I wanted to say to Javier, I could write a note and he'd translate. I had written one to give to him. So I handed the note to Samuel. "Wow," he said. "It's long." He looked it over. "Can I just bring this home?"

"Yeah."

The next morning, after David got off work, we followed the directions we were given by Jack Huddleston and found the place he was selling in Willis. Oddly, I felt more at home, here, than anywhere else. There was no question. This was home. By 9:30 am, the deal was sealed. David and I are buying a house. It's in both mine and my brother's names. We spent the day checking things out and buying a few minor things for the house. Then we got the van fully unloaded, finally!

That night, at work, when Samuel came in, the first thing he did was hand me the note and his translation. I thanked him, and while he went about his regular thing, I studied the notes. And compared the two. He and I didn't talk much, that night. But, during the time that Javier and I were getting closer, Samuel didn't make an appearance, for two weeks.

During those two weeks, I had dreams about Samuel. Mainly replays of times he'd come into the store and we'd just talk. Then I dreamed that he and I were getting closer. And I couldn't figure out why I was dreaming about him. I hadn't allowed myself to think of him in that way, because he's married. I'd wake up from these dreams, confused. Then I'd put them out of my mind.

On Friday, February 20, I was thinking about all that had transpired between me and Javier. Wondering what my next move should be. Wondering which way to turn and what to do next. At 11:00 pm, I was outside, taking a smoke break, thinking on all of it. Then a familiar white Ford Ranger pickup pulled up right in front of me. Looking through the windshield, I saw Samuel smiling at me. I finished my smoke and tossed it away, just as he got out.

"Well," I said, "you've been MIA, for a couple of weeks!"

He grinned at me. "I've been working late. You've been closed, when I get off." We went on inside. He watched me walk around the counter. "How are things going?"

"Depends on what you're asking about."

"Everything," he said, with a smile and a shrug.

So I caught him up on the situation with Javier. He was surprised that Javier was married. And seemed surprised that I ended up going back to him. I looked at him. "So, you gonna tell me I'm bad, too?"

"Why?"

"Because he's married."

Samuel looked at me, thoughtfully. "No, I don't think you're bad."

I sighed. "We got through the language barrier, in various ways." He grinned. "But we have many other barriers. Like no real time. The only time we have is here."

He stopped scratching his ticket, and looked up at me, confused. "Here?"

I grinned and nodded toward the storeroom. He looked surprised, and then grinned again. "It started with the note you translated," I told him.

He looked surprised. "Really. The note said you two could only be friends because of the language problem."

"Yeah, but the rest of the note said I was attracted to him, and told him how hot I think he is." He grinned, again. "And, as soon as he knew I was interested," I continued, "he was dragging me off in the storeroom." Samuel turned and looked toward the storeroom, then laughed. "It was after that, he told me he's married. But he also said he wanted to continue what we're doing." Samuel looked at me, again, at that point. Studying me intently. "I discovered I don't mind. I can't resist him." A long, thoughtful look from Samuel. "I've tried to back off," I went on. "But every time we talk about being just friends, he drags me off into the storeroom, again." Samuel laughed. "What do you think, Samuel? You think I should back off?"

"Why?"

"He's married."

He studied me again. "Are you enjoying it?" I nodded. "And he's enjoying it! His wife's in Mexico?" I nodded. "Then why stop?"

We chatted a little more, and then I asked, "I guess people are always coming to you with their problems, huh?"

He looked at me. "No."

"Really?" I was really surprised at that. He just watched me. I continued. "People always come to me. For some reason, I always unload on YOU." He smiled at me. "You're the only one I unload on. And I don't know why."

He studied me, again, and then smiled at me. It was just before midnight, when he told me he had to go. He grinned. "Hasta manana," he said. Javier's usual sign-off. I smiled.

I began to wonder, at that point, what was going through Samuel's mind. I realized he'd been showing signs of interest, but I tried to dismiss those signs.

The next day, I made my decision to break things off with Javier, again. I wrote a short note: "This was only sex. And we have no time for it. It was fun, but I need someone with more time and freedom. I'm done."

Samuel came in at 11:15 pm. I asked him, right off the bat, "Will you translate a note? From English to Spanish?"

He shrugged. "You work tomorrow?"

"It's a short one," I said. As I handed it to him, I explained my line of thinking behind it.

He read it, and grinned-though he tried to hide that grin. I gave him a pen and paper. When I read his translation, it didn't seem quite right. "Will you break this down for me?" I asked.

"Okay," he said. We both leaned across the counter, and he wanted me to explain each part of the note. "I want to make sure it says what you WANT it to say." I nodded. "'This was just sex'," he read. He looked up at me. "Do you mean that's what you wanted, or what you were thinking?"

I looked at him, confused. "That's what it WAS."

He stared at me, seemingly confused. "Did you two actually DO it?"

I was shocked. "Dude," I said, "what do you think we were DOING in the storeroom?"

He gazed at me, seemingly lost for a moment. "Ah," he finally said, looking towards that room.

Piece by piece, we worked through the note. He explained the Spanish words, as he wrote them.

"'It was fun,'" he read, "'but I want some MORE?'"

I burst out laughing. "That says 'someONE'! NOT 'some MORE'!" We both laughed at that.

He read the last line. "'I'm done.'" He looked up at me. "No mas?"

"No mas," I said. "No more. I'm done."

After the translation was complete, I set it aside. Samuel and I chatted about other things, till just before midnight. Before he left, he looked at me. "You said you're working tomorrow?"

"Yep."

"What time?"

"I come in at 4:00. Till around 10 or so."

He nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow."

And he surprised me, by coming in the next day, a Sunday, at 4:30 pm. He came in with a big grin on his face. He didn't stay long, and the store was busy, anyway. But he'd put in an appearance. That was the first time I'd ever seen him come in on a Sunday.

I'd sent that note to Javier by text message, and didn't think about it again, until I saw Javier on Monday. I remember he kept looking at me with this serious expression. After he clocked out, he stuck around to talk to me. I made it clear I meant it when I said "No mas." So he'd asked if we could be friends. Yes, I figured we could.

Then he reached up and touched my face. A yearning, searching look in his eyes. He draped one hand over my shoulder and tapped my chest with the other hand. "Nada aqui? For me?"

I looked at him, wondering what that meant. I knew what he said. But was confused.

He searched my eyes, while tapping my chest again. "You have nothing here, for me?"

Confused, thinking he was talking about sex again, I said, "No."

He looked like I'd just slapped him.

I realized, later, that he'd been indicating my heart, when he asked the question. He had wanted to know if I had any feelings for him. Then I realized I must have hurt him. I went online, and used my Spanish/English dictionary to translate a text to him. Telling him, I cared for him as a friend, but there can be nothing between us. He shocked me, by responding almost immediately.

That was Wednesday, February 25. At work, that night, I was taking a smoke break, rereading Javier's text, when Samuel pulled in. I put my phone back in my pocket, and tossed my cigarette. Smiling at Samuel, I said, "Hey, there."

He smiled at me. "Your name is....MELISSA. Right?" He said my name in "that" way, using the strong Spanish accent. It took my breath away.

I froze, looking at him. As it had been with Javier, I wanted to tell him to say it again. He grinned at me. Finally, deciding to play it off, I joked, "Yep, last time I checked."

He laughed. "Last time you checked, huh?"

"Well, that's what my mom's always called me. I figured that must be my name."

He laughed again. As we stepped inside, he asked how things were going. I shrugged, looking away. "What's wrong?" he asked. He studied my face. "Is this about Javier?"

I nodded. "I think I hurt him."

He looked angry. "So it's okay for him to hurt you. But NOT okay for YOU to hurt HIM!"

I looked at him, confused. Then I told him about my conversation with Javier, and the texts. Then I called up the response from Javier. "I know I said I wouldn't need your services, again," I said, grinning at him. He gave me a very intense look. "I was wondering if you could give me an accurate translation on this. I know, basically, what it says. I think. I just wanted an ACCURATE translation."

He looked at it. "It says 'I think you're right, when you say there can't be anything between us. I'm very sorry that I didn't tell you the truth from the beginning.'" Then he grinned at me, as he handed me back my phone.

"Yeah, I figured that was about right," I said, putting the phone back into my pocket. With a sigh, I asked, "So you think I shouldn't worry if I hurt him?"

He looked right at me. "NO."

"I just don't like hurting people."

As he and I chatted more, while he scratched his tickets, I forgot about Javier and noticed Samuel's hair had grown out a little, again. "Why don't you let your hair grow out?"

He froze for a moment, looking away, but not at me. After a moment, he asked, "Why don't I let it grow?"

"Yeah."

He shrugged, then was silent long enough that I figured he wasn't going to answer. So I just shrugged and said, "I was just curious."

As I leaned against the counter, he looked at me, studying my face. Finally, he said, "I used to keep my hair long." He turned slightly, running his thumb across his lower back. "My hair was down to here."

"REALLY!" I got lost a moment, trying to imagine that.

He studied my face, and then grinned. "Look," he said, pulling out his driver's license. It was a picture of him from a few years ago. Long hair pulled back into a ponytail.

I couldn't hide my reaction. "WOW!" My jaw dropped. He looked HOT! I looked up at him. He was watching me, grinning. I looked from him to his photo. "That's a BIG difference!" I handed it back to him, studying him. Trying to imagine it.

Again, he grinned. As he was leaving, he asked, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

I gave him a big thumbs-up and smiled. I watched him as he made his way to his truck. I was surprised to see he was dancing!

Sunday, March 1, Samuel came in around 5:00 pm, while Raj and I were doing our shift-change. I smiled at him, and he gave me his big, happy smile. He kept letting the other customers get ahead of him, and I noticed he stood behind all of them. Watching me. When I started taking the customers, I watched Samuel peripherally-so he didn't know I saw him. He was still watching me, with this soft smile. I realized that, when he's usually there, the store's never really busy. He's never actually had the opportunity to just stand back and observe.

Raj, trying to rush the line, got Samuel's attention. Samuel had no excuse to keep waiting. He glanced at Raj, then at me, then back at Raj. So Raj gave him his scratch-offs and took his money, while I continued with the line of customers. Samuel took his customary place at the back of the store, away from everyone else, to scratch them.

When he came up to trade his winners in for more tickets, I grinned and said, "I guess SOMEone worked late, again, last night. You never showed up." I meant he hadn't come into the store, the night before.

But when I said that, Raj looked up at me, then at him. Samuel glanced at him with a grin, letting him assume what he wanted. Then he smiled at me. "I got off at 1:30."

"1:30? Good Lord!"

He nodded, staring intently into my eyes. He glanced at Raj, then back at me. His eyes told me he wanted to say something. But he took his tickets and headed back to his spot, to scratch them. Each time he came back for more tickets, he'd look at Raj, then intently at me. I knew SOMETHING was on his mind. But he finally left. "Bye, Melissa," he said, heading for the door. I just grinned at him and waved.

I noticed he sat outside in his truck for another 15 minutes, after that. When he finally did pull out, I turned to watch. He was watching me, as he was leaving.

That's when I began to wonder just what he was up to. He kept acting interested, and I had to admit, I had begun to feel the old attraction coming back. But the fact that he's married kept me from saying anything.

Thursday, March 5, Karim and I got into a big argument and I nearly walked off the job. I had made up my mind I was going to go job-hunting. I wasn't coming back. But that night, Samuel came in at 10:45. I stepped out for a smoke, and before I could even pull one out, Samuel pulled in. He was giving me one of those smoldering, passionate looks, as we went back inside. "I'm broke," he told me. "I have only $5."

I grinned at him. "One ticket, then."

As he scratched it, he asked how things were going. When I told him I nearly walked off the job, he tossed the losing ticket, then went to the ATM. With the $20 he pulled, he bought $10 worth of tickets and encouraged me to talk, while he scratched them. None of those were winners, so he bought $10 more. And scratched those. He looked really upset, when I told him how close I was to quitting. "I'd decided not to stay open so late, tonight, since you haven't been coming in."

He looked up at me. "I've been working."

I smiled. "I know." I watched him scratch the last ticket. "You DO know you're the only reason I stay open late."

He tried to hide the smile, but I saw it anyway. "I know," he said happily. He tossed the last ticket. "That's it," he said, heading for the door. "Hasta manana."

"Maybe," I responded.

He stopped, looking intently at me. Then he shook his head. "Hasta manana," he repeated firmly.

I thought a moment, and then sighed. "Okay. Hasta manana."

As I was locking up, I thought maybe it wouldn't hurt to stay a little longer.

Saturday, March 14, I found myself giving in to Javier again. Only, now, he began coming out to my house. I don't know what it was that drew me to him, again. Maybe the fact that he's the only man I've really been with, in over a year. Maybe that I still was attracted to him. Maybe I just needed the attention. I don't know. But that night, at work, when Samuel came in, I asked him straight up, "Does going back to Javier mean I'm stupid or just horny?"

He looked at me for a moment, and then laughed. "What do YOU think?" he asked as he took his customary spot with his tickets.

I yelled out, across the store, "BOTH, I think!"

When he came back up to trade in his tickets, he glanced at me, then at the tickets. As I handed them to him, I asked, "You have no answer?"

There was a strange look on his face. "Oh, I have an answer."

I waited, and then said, "But you're not going to tell me."

He glanced at me, again, but said nothing.

"You think I'm stupid, don't you?"

He looked up at me, again, his expression still unreadable. "Why go back?" he finally asked.

"BECAUSE HE'S HOT!!!" I said, grinning.

Samuel just grinned. But it didn't reach his eyes. He studied the ticket he was scratching. Without looking up, he asked again, "Why go back?" Then after a moment, he added, "Why not just find someone else?" I noticed the blush that crept up his face when he said that. And it made me wonder who he was thinking of.

"That's not as easy as it sounds, Samuel," I said carefully. When he looked up at me, I continued, "There are all kinds of men interested in me. They give me their phone numbers, all the time." I studied him a moment, before adding, "But there aren't that many that I'm interested in."

Without another word, he tossed his losing tickets and headed for the door. "I'll see you," he said.

Not "hasta manana". Not "I'll see you tomorrow." But "I'll see you." And it was two weeks before he came back.

During those two weeks, I found myself no longer really attracted to Javier. In fact, at one point, while I was WITH him, it was Samuel I saw. And that shocked me. I was not expecting to think of him in quite that way. I stopped seeing Javier again, and began to meditate on all that had transpired. During my meditations, I found myself writing poems. Poems to Samuel.

The night Samuel finally came back into the store, he was different. Thoughtful. Sad. "Hello, stranger," I said, when I saw him. He only smiled.

On his second trip to trade in tickets, I asked where he'd been. "I went to Mexico," he said. "I saw my mama." I saw the smile on his face, when he said that. It made me smile. The man loves his mama. Then he asked me how things had been going.

"I've been in deep thought," I said, leaning across the counter. He stopped scratching his tickets, and stared at me. I sighed. "I'm seriously considering taking your advice." I turned to look at him and he was gazing at me with a look of intense longing. "What?" I asked.

He looked away quickly, shaking his head. "Nothing,' he said. " I'm just tired."

The next time Samuel made an appearance, he seemed to be in a much better mood. And I talked to him about how Javier just doesn't do it for me, anymore. "I can't be with him, without having to pretend he's someone else," I told him.

Samuel studied me for a long time. Then, "Maybe that's a sign that it's time to move on."

Then I didn't see him again for another week.

Saturday night, March 28, Samuel came in really late. I'd had a customer rush, and it was midnight. I was getting ready to start closing, when I saw Samuel's pickup pull up to one of the gas pumps. And I watched him walk in. He came in with his head down.

After giving me money to set the pump, he asked quietly, "The lotto machine is off now?" I nodded. He went ahead and bought a scratch-off anyway. "I guess I can cash it in later, if I win." But he didn't. He stared at the ticket, but kept looking around. When he threw it away, he headed for the door, but stopped. He started toying with one of the die-cast cars on a shelf. I watched him. Something was bothering him.

"You okay?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I'm sick," he said. "And tired."

I'd meant to joke, when I said, "Sick and tired of what?"

He sighed, leaning against the door. "Of everything." He seemed like he was about to break down. Then he came back to the counter to buy another ticket. Quietly, he asked how things were going with me.

"I've been thinking."

He glanced at me, then back down. "Tell me about it."

"I've been thinking all week about your advice."

He gave a curt little laugh, and then seemed upset. He wasn't himself.

I mentioned his hair had grown out again.

He avoided looking at me. "I haven't had time to go get it cut." He shrugged it off. He wandered back and forth in front of the counter, looking at everything. Everything around me, but not at me. He seemed nervous, sad, and deep in thought. Then he glanced at me, catching my eye for only a moment. The sadness in those eyes confused me. He couldn't hold my gaze. He kept his head down. Finally, he said he was leaving.

"You don't want to talk?"

He turned toward me, but was looking at the floor. "You need to close. I'll be back tomorrow. I'll see you manana." Then he was out the door and gone.

I watched him pump his gas. Another customer came in. After I handled him and he left, I turned to look at Samuel, again. He was standing out there, watching me. I couldn't shake the feeling there was something important he had wanted to talk to me about. But he got in his truck and left.

I decided to give him the poems I'd written. And I watched him, when he came in the next afternoon. The store was really busy, so I didn't really get to talk to him. When he came in, he smiled at me, like usual, and I smiled back. Each time he'd stand in line to get tickets, he'd watch me. I'd look at him and smile. We'd chat a little.

Suddenly, after he'd been there about 20 minutes, he was heading for the door. He lifted his hand and waved. I motioned "come here". So he walked on over. I reached into my pocket, pulled out the folded papers that were the four poems, and quickly handed the packet to him. Quickly, so I wouldn't chicken out.

He started to unfold it. "No, no," I said, quickly. "You don't have to read those, right NOW!" He looked at me, slightly confused. "Those're for YOU." He looked surprised, and then looked at the little packet with a sense of wonder.

While I handled a couple of customers, I noticed him unfold and glance at what he held. He headed for the door with a smile. He glanced at me, holding up the folded papers. "For me?" he asked.

I smiled and nodded. A very happy smile crossed his face, as he walked on out the door. I noticed, between customers, that he sat out there for several minutes, in his truck. Long enough to read at least the first poem. Then I began to worry and wonder what his reaction would be. I had added my phone number to the last poem, and wondered if he would try to call me.

Basically, the poems told the story of my interest in Samuel. And my loss of interest in Javier. I let Samuel know I wanted him, and would be willing to be with him, but that I'd be uncomfortable with it, since he's married. I expected him to tell me to move on, because of that fact. And I expected him to tell me we could still be friends.

Ironically, it was April Fool's Day that Samuel gave me his answer. And it wasn't exactly what I expected. Since he'd never called me, I assumed he was telling me to move on and "seek another". I was actually considering going back to Javier.

Wednesday, April 1st, about 11:00 pm, Samuel walked through the door. I chose to treat him as I'd always done: as a friend, and nothing more. Be he avoided looking at me and seemed kind of sad. When he was buying his first batch of tickets, he locked eyes with me only once. He seemed nervous, but didn't say much. He asked how I've been. When I told him I'd been thinking a lot, he seemed serious, then turned, and went to his spot in the back of the store.

When he came back the second time, he only glanced at me, but said nothing. The third time, I finally asked him, "Did you read the poems?"

He glanced at me. "Yeah, I read them." Then he went back to his spot. That confused me.

On his next trip up, I outright asked, "Have you nothing to say?"

He hesitated. Then said, almost angrily, "Yes. I have something to say." Then he thought a moment. "I'm not looking for anything. Right NOW."

I looked at him, confused. I hadn't offered a relationship! "I'm not looking for anything, either, Samuel," I said carefully.

As he turned and headed to his spot, I heard him add, "I need to get rid of the one I've got."

When he came up the next time, I said, "So you think I should 'seek another'."

He froze a moment, and then grabbed his tickets. As he headed back to his spot, I saw him nod.

"I had a feeling you'd say that."

"Don't you think?" he shouted back, from the back of the store.

"Yeah, I think so," I responded with a smile.

When he came back the next time, I looked at him, as I sipped my coffee. "So I should 'seek another'."

He hesitated, and then nodded, not looking at me.

I thought on that a moment. "But you don't think I should go back to Javier."

He looked at me, almost angrily, "NO!!!" Then he looked away and sighed. "What do YOU think?"

I thought on that, and then smiled. "I think I should stay away from married men." Then laughed.

But he was serious, when he said, "Yeah." Then he went into deep thought. Finally, he said, "My wife and I are having problems." He looked at me. "She's my second wife."

It surprised me, to hear that. I'd thought he'd been married to the same woman, for many years. I told him, "I've been married twice, too." He looked at me, surprised. I shrugged.

He was still looking at me, when he added, quietly, "We're having....troubles."

I looked at him for a long time, before saying carefully, "Sounds like you need to work on your marriage."

He gave a wry nod, looked at me, and then looked away. He shook his head. "It's not going to work. We're getting a divorce. I think." He looked directly at me. "I don't need anything, RIGHT NOW. But LATER. I might want something LATER." A brief pause. A pleading look. "?Comprende?"

I looked down at the floor. I hadn't expected to hear him say all that. I was trying to figure out what exactly he WAS saying. "I THINK so," I said.

He sighed, still watching me. "I'm getting a divorce. I want to do this RIGHT." Another pause, then, "I can't have anything RIGHT NOW." Studying my face, he added, "But I might LATER. LATER."

After that, we chitchatted about inconsequentials, and my thoughts raced. I couldn't figure out if he's actually getting a divorce and wants me to wait, or if he was only saying that stuff because he didn't want to hurt my feelings. I kept getting the feeling there was more he wanted to say. But he didn't.

He made it sound like, when he gets divorced, he's going to want a relationship. But is he really getting divorced, I wondered.

After that night, the conversation didn't come up again, and nothing was mentioned about the poems or his "divorce". He still looked at me with interest, but we only continued as we'd always done. Playfully flirting, laughing, and joking. But nothing serious even hinted at. Yet, at times, when he thought I didn't see, I would see him gazing at me with that look of longing. But I knew better than to ask.

After a while, he went from playful flirting, to outright teasing. He began using the tactics Javier had used in the beginning: giving me "that" look, while talking to me in "that" voice. And it started to get to me. And he knew the effect he was having on me. It put a bounce in his step and a smile on his face. Yet, still, nothing more was said.

I began to wonder what he was up to. And if I should try to find out.