Part Two: Sparkle

Dave knew. Dave tried. He really did. But his brain didn’t work like other people’s. His mama called him “special;” his grandmother said “unique”. His father thought he was a creep, and most days Dave agreed. So he tried not to look at anyone, tried not to notice the way a woman smelled or how strong a man appeared. He tried not to become obsessed with a voice or mull over a conversation or hope that someone might see him as a love interest. After high school and all the trouble he got into there, he kept his head down and found a routine that worked for him. Same meals, same job, same people. It was boring but it was safe. He’d learned from his grandmother that it might be best to stick to small groups like immediate family and tiny groups of friends. This meant no parties, no family reunions, no large crowds. His instinct to obsess and the likelihood someone would sparkle (the term he came up with after his classmate Terri caught his eye in the fourth grade) was tamped down and put away when he kept it safe.

So imagine his dismay when he returned to his favorite diner and finds a new waitress; her voice like wind chimes, her smile like a sunrise, and her scent wrapping around him like grandma’s Thanksgiving Day apple pie. Dave tried, he really did, but he had to meet her eyes at some point. When she came by to take his order on the end stool where he always sat, shadowing Dolores (a woman who definitely did not sparkle), he looked into her brown eyes and lost it. She didn’t just sparkle, she glowed like she was his own ray of light, come down to earth to guide him through life. He couldn’t help himself; all those years of being safe spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them and little did Maggie know, she was officially his obsession.

To his credit, he had tried.

It just couldn’t work forever.