dialoge starter revised

Brandon was nervous, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He never did things like this. And by things I mean go on blind dates with girls he barely new. Come to think of it, Brandon had not been on a date for over two years, he hadn’t been to a bar, a club, anywhere since Laura died. And not because he didn’t want to go out, didn’t want to date, he did, desperately, but he just didn’t have the time. Ever since the accident, ever since Laura died, he had been left to take care of their son, their little boy, Jake who was diagnosed with autism at 22 months. And they survived, somehow, the three of them, even if Laura had to quite her day job to take care of him, the job she loved, that one that made her face light up every time she talked about it. But they made it through things together, until Laura died. With her gone it was like the cement of the house was gone, the glue that held every thing together was gone, and Brandon was left picking up the pieces of what his life had been. And now suddenly, he found himself sitting on the girls couch…Jane’s couch, while she was in the kitchen making tea. Was this a mistake? He thought, should I have not come up for a drink? Brandon quickly scanned through the evening in his mind. Dinner had been fine; they had gone to the small Italian restaurant around the corner, and they had a nice easy conversation about work, about the economy…but not about Laura, and defiantly not about Jake, not yet at least. He tried to remember what Jane had said… she said she had liked her job, that she was a secretary, that she got paid well… and she was a republican, and then she had asked Brandon were he stood on politics, but he had replied curtly that he was not interested in politics. It was easier that way, less painful then telling this girl his story. The story of how he had grown up in a conservative home, and never really thought about politics, he just sort of was a republican because his parents were. Until Laura, a liberal world wind marching the streets in protest in a pair of doc martens. Brandon was walking to school; he going t Columbia at the time, when he had seen her, marching with other protesters, in front of a government office. She was pale, fragile, skinny, looking at her you would never know she could get so loud, so angry. She screamed, throwing her fists in he air, and then grabbed the megaphone out of a mans hand, screaming an anti-war chant. And Brandon stood their, his polo and crew cut watching her, amazed. And by next week, he had been standing by her side; arm and arm at a similar protest screaming of government corruption… but Brandon shook that memory out of his head, and focused on the little blond in the kitchen making Coffee. Brandon considered Jane; she was sweet, and cute, and nice… but soft, breakable, nothing at all like Laura. despite her fragile appearance Brandon had only seen Laura cry once, when Jake had been diagnosed, it had been terrifying, like the sky was falling, she had broke down in his arms on the bathroom floor, she sobbed, wailed, her tiny little features becoming distorted, she cried until she fell asleep their in his arms on the bathroom tile, and Brandon sat their, holding her up, feeling like his world, no the whole world was ending, and he could only watch, powerless to stop it.
“Would you like some tea?” the girl called over her shoulder from the kitchen, breaking Brandon’s train of thought.“I would. Thank you.” He replied. “Careful. It’s hot.” She said returning with two cups of steaming tea. “I usually prefer iced tea.” Brandon admitted. Thinking of their honeymoon, thinking of Jamaican iced Tea, the one they brought a case home to the states. “Mmm. I don’t have any.”“Maybe I can put ice in this tea.” Brandon suggested hopefully. “But that’s what I’m saying—I don’t have any cubes.”
“Oh” Brandon said looking down, he meet Laura’s eyes, sweet, unbroken, she deserved someone whole, not a shell of a man, a shadow of what he used to be, of what could have been. He grabbed his Blazer and stood up. He bent down and kissed the top of the girls head. “Sorry.” He said, before leaving.