17. Jim

Jim

I was unaccountably nervous about Jordan coming over to my house. Maybe because I was hoping that someday it would be our house. Hopefully soon. Not that I was stupid enough to bring it up right now.

After spending the morning cleaning, I took a shower and then got started prepping for our dinner. Jordan was coming at five, and by the time she got here I wanted to have everything ready so I could impress her.

If I was being totally honest with myself – and I always tried to be totally honest – after seeing her ex-husband I was the tiniest bit intimidated. Not by the guy himself. He looked like a pussy, and I was sure I could beat his ass. But it hadn't escaped my notice that the guy was wearing a fancy ass suit that looked like it cost a fortune. I made good money at the factory thanks to our union contract, but I didn't make designer suit money.

I looked around my house with a critical eye. It was nice thanks to my years of fixing it up, but it wasn't fancy. I pictured Jordan's ex living in a penthouse or a mini mansion, somewhere with high end granite countertops and stainless steel appliances and maybe a butler or something.

Then again, the apartment Jordan was staying at was a shit hole, so my girl's standards couldn't be that high. But it was also temporary. I had no idea what kind of place she lived in when she was in Detroit.

After brooding on it for a while, I decided to call the one person who always gave me straight talk and tough love: Lillian

"Hey Jimmy, what's up?"

"Can you talk?" I asked, wincing as I heard one of the younger boys scream like he was being murdered.

"Yeah, let me go to my sanctuary."

Years ago, before she and Martin got married, we'd helped Lillian remodel her basement, building a master suite with a sitting room and private bathroom. She called it her sanctuary away from ‘all the testosterone in the house'. When Martin moved in with his three boys, they added soundproofing between the basement and the main level to add more privacy. It was a testament to how much she loved him that Lillian even shared her space with him.

"Okay, I'm downstairs and alone, whatcha need?"

I told her about meeting Matthew and then going over to Jordan's house, glossing over the exact details there. Lillian of course read between the lines.

"So you two had some sexy times finally?" she asked.

"We ran some bases," I said, "but we didn't get a home run, if you know what I mean."

"Of course I know what you mean. I live with seven damn males and work with a bunch of knucklehead men in a male-dominated industry," she said impatiently. "So what's your question?"

"I'm worried she's used to rich guys like her ex. Like maybe I'm not gonna measure up or something.'

"It's not like you to be insecure," Lillian noted. "That tells me you really care about this woman."

"I love her," I said firmly. "I'm going to marry her someday."

"Look, if Jordan is the type of person to get hung up on the trappings of wealth, well then, she's not the woman for you. But she works in a damned factory. No one fancy works in a factory," she reminded me.

"True."

"Since she's got a good relationship with her ex, I'm going to assume the problem isn't that she's afraid of getting' serious. She's not going to be your boss for very much longer, so I'm gonna guess she's still more concerned about the difference in your ages than anything else."

"Yeah, she's mentioned that a couple of times, but I don't care how old she is."

"I know, and if your genders were reversed, no one would bat an eye. I'm just saying that, as a woman of a certain age, I'm more than familiar with how most of the guys my age are dating twenty year olds, and I'm sure Jordan is too. If you want to be with this woman for the long haul, you need to be yourself, show her that you're mature, and do your best to convince her that you won't get tired of her and move on to some younger woman whose boobs are still perky."

I winced at Lillian's frank response.

"Make her dinner, and for God's sake, talk to her about your concerns and get her to talk to you about hers. If you can't talk to each other, you've got no hope of making things work."

"You're right Miss Lillian, thank you for your advice."

"Now tell me what you're makin' for dinner so I have an excuse to stay down here a little longer."

I felt better after talking to my friend. Lillian was right, it was time for me and Jordan to have a long talk about our feelings and the future. I just hoped that I wasn't totally misreading things, and that her feelings and idea of the future aligned with mine.

After hanging up with Lillian, I made two quick phone calls, then got busy prepping for dinner.

Jordan knocked on the door promptly at five p.m. Setting down the cucumber I was slicing, I wiped my hands and went to answer the door. She was wearing a cute sundress that hit her mid-thigh, along with sandals and a little sweater. Her hair was down, flowing over her shoulders in soft waves, making me realize that I'd never seen it down before. Jordan always wore her hair pulled back in a bun or a ponytail.

"Hey," I said, stepping forward to give her a hug. "You look great. I like your hair down. It's real pretty."

I caught a bit of it between my thumb and fingers, touching the silky strands like I'd never seen hair before.

Jordan cleared her throat. "Thank you. Are you going to show me around?"

"Of course," I said, stepping away. "This here is the living room."

"You bought this as a fixer, right?"

"Yeah," I said, pleased that she remembered. "There was a lot to do. I re-did the floors myself, painted of course, and completely remodeled the kitchen and bathrooms. Leo helped me re-brick the fireplace and replace the mantel, and him and George helped me with the deck outside."

She looked around, taking in the dark hardwood floors with colorful area rugs, mustard colored walls, dark baseboards, and huge picture windows. She pointed to the navy blue couch and matching chairs, situated around a multicolored geometric patterned area rug.

"It's so cute," she said sincerely. "I like the color scheme you've got. Everything looks comfortable."

"I don't know what it looked like before of course, but you've done a great job."

I led her back through the dining room, briefly showing her the two small guest bedrooms, one of which was filled with tools and paint, and the bathroom. She poked her head in, looking suitably impressed. When we got to the master bedroom she made a happy sound.

"Oh my God, the view from this room!"

I'd arranged the entire room to take advantage of the view of the woods behind my house.

"It's what sold me on this house, despite the shitty condition it was in when I moved in," I explained.

"How long have you lived here?" she asked as we headed towards the kitchen.

"I bought it when I was thirty," I said. "So, five years. And it's taken me this long to get it into such good shape."

"Well you've done a great job with it, really. I love it."

Without thinking, I asked, "I'm glad you like it. Can you imagine yourself living here?