We were both divorced. He drove a city bus.
The first time I saw him I couldn’t get those eyes out of my mind.
He was a super sweet man, and very good looking. I wasn’t the only woman who sometimes took a bus someplace she didn’t need to go, just to see him and talk for a little bit.
I tried pretty hard to attract him, but he was damaged goods, and he was gun shy, so to speak. He had two sons, and they both tried to get me fixed up with their dad.
I just wasn’t what he needed at the time, I guess, but I still sure wish I had been.
Jobs were scarce, and I had to make the decision to move to another town. The day before I left, I went by his house to say good bye. His youngest boy popped out with a football, wanting to play catch. He started to send the boy inside, so we could talk. I jumped off the porch, and called for him to throw. We all ended up passing the football in the back yard, and talking, until it was too dark to see the ball.
I had a pretty darn good arm in those days.