Chapter 9
9
Dylan
I couldn’t listen anymore. There was a lot to unpack in there, and I had a lot of research about dyspraxia to do. But I had to stop Juliette from continuing on with everything she saw as flaws with herself. I had a sickening feeling she could go on all day if I let her. I had a few questions I needed answered, then I was going to turn this around for her.
I interrupted her to ask, “What happened at dinner? Was it worse because you were nervous?”
“Yes, it was kind of our first date, so I was really nervous. Also, it was too loud. And I couldn’t pronounce anything on the menu.”
“It definitely was our first date. I’m sorry the restaurant was too loud. I’m glad I know now so I can choose more carefully going forward. Can I ask why you wanted to go bowling today instead of last night?”
“Bowling is fun, but I suck at it. I’d rather embarrass myself around a few families on a Saturday afternoon than the teenagers or people our age who would be there on a Friday night.”
That pissed me off. I wanted to hurt every asshole who’d ever made her feel less than. I continued with my next question, my most important one, really hoping she’d say yes. “May I park the car and hold you now?”
Her gaze, which had been fixed on her fidgeting hands, sprang up towards me. With a quick glance away from the road, I could see the surprise and relief in her eyes. Did she really think I’d kick her to the curb after her confession?
“Yes, please.”
Thank fuck. She’d sounded so robotic before, but I heard the slightest crack to her voice at the word “please.” Not that I wanted her to cry, but the coldness had worried me more. I drove another few minutes until I could turn onto a small side street and park the car.
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I gestured for her to do the same, then I reached over the console and pulled her into my arms as best I could in the confines of the car. I held her tight, hating the tension I felt in her body.
I needed to say something to reassure her, but what? I didn’t want to sound like I was blowing off her concerns or negating her feelings about it. I thought back to how she started the conversation in her house.
“Thank you for opening up to me. That must have been incredibly difficult for you. You need to know, I still like you, Juls. As a matter of fact, I like you even more now that I know how strong you are.”
I couldn’t see her face, but the surprise was clear in her voice. “What? I’m not strong.”
“You’re strong as fuck, Juls.”
She giggled despite the serious conversation. “You can’t say that!”
Her giggle filled my chest. Not only was I making that my mantra for her, I’d do anything to keep hearing that sound.
“Only way to convey just how strong you are. Nothing else comes close. I can’t wait to hear all the stories about your life. The good and the bad. I bet the more I hear, the more impressed I’ll be. I was already in awe of how passionate and empathetic you are with the kids you work with, and now I can see how you use your own experiences to help them. They’re lucky to have you.”
“I do feel good about work. And my dyspraxia is obviously part of it. But you need to know that I’m far better at interacting with my students than I am with most typical adults. Believe me when I tell you, I’m really not good girlfriend material.”
“Can you please stop trying to talk me out of being with you? It’s not going to happen. I’ve already seen a lot of your dyspraxia at dinner, and it didn’t turn me off then. It’s definitely not going to now. You can’t pronounce words on a menu? I’ll order for you. You don’t want to sing or dance, we’ll find other things to do. It’s all going to be okay. Trust me.”
Juliette pulled back and gazed at me, hope and fear swirling in her eyes. “But?—”
“No buts, not right now. Thank you for sharing with me. You trusting me with this means everything to me. Can we go bowling now? Let me show you how much fun we can have together.”
“I suck at bowling.”
“So? I don’t care if you bowl a thirty or a three hundred. I just want to spend time with you. I had the best time playing pool with you. Let’s go repeat that with bowling, okay?”
Juliette nodded her acquiescence, and we drove towards the bowling alley, holding hands in mostly comfortable silence. I could tell she was still lost in her thoughts, and I had a feeling I’d hate what she was thinking. She was too hard on herself.
On the other hand, the more I thought about it, the more I realized we were made for each other. I’ll admit, I have a bit of a hero complex. Most firemen probably do. Work scratched that itch, but it had never been enough for me.
My ex-wife, Kayla, had turned her nose up at the idea of trading in a lucrative career to one focused on helping others. When I told her I was considering leaving my job as a banker to pursue becoming a firefighter, she’d shown a greedy, shallow side of herself that I’d never seen before. Or maybe I was just too blind to see it until then. She accused me of not being willing to meet her needs, but those needs had been ridiculous. Her complaints that I couldn’t give her what she needed, couldn’t provide the life she expected, had me doubting myself, but I had no interest in dedicating my life to the pursuit of keeping up with the Joneses.
Juliette was as different from my ex as possible. She was worried I wouldn’t be able to handle her issues, but I could easily protect her from the social difficulties that were hard for her. I’d be happy to be a buffer between her and any assholes who didn’t understand her. I’d love for her to lean on me when she felt unsure. If she gave me the chance, I’d prove to her that I was happy to be her hero. I didn’t know what it was about her that had me wanting that so badly so quickly, but I couldn’t deny that I felt it. But how could I tell her all of this without sounding overbearing, or implying that I thought she was weak and needed saving?
“Juls, I want to tell you something about myself too. I was married for two years. I met Kayla during college, and we got married shortly after graduating.”
Juliette’s beautiful eyes widened in surprise. I squeezed her hand and continued, hoping I wasn’t bungling it up by telling her about an ex.
“A year into our marriage, we were both miserable, even though we tried to hide it. We put on a good show when we were out, but at home we barely spoke to one another unless we were fighting. I was working in a bank, which I hated. There was no relief for me at work or at home. I kept hoping Kayla and I could work things out, and I naively thought it would fix things if I was happier with my job. I left the job I hated and pursued firefighting, which I’d long since tucked away as a childhood fantasy.”
“She didn’t agree with you?”
“That’s putting it mildly. She said I’d deceived her and accused me of blowing her opportunity to be with a better man. Kayla was only interested in how she, and therefore how we, appeared to others. She wanted to project this perfect fairy-tale life that did not include being married to a firefighter, and apparently that appearance was more important than whether or not we were actually happy.”
“She’s a bitch,” Juliette spit out. The sounds slurred together, with the middle part almost absent, as though she said “she-a-itch,” but I understood, and I loved her anger on my behalf.
“I can’t deny that. But it was my fault too. I did mislead her. I could have saved us both a lot of trouble if I was honest with myself from the start. I always knew deep in my soul that my passion was to be a firefighter, but I tried to squelch it down. As a kid, my dream of being a fireman was encouraged, but as I grew up, adults started to say it was silly and to choose a real job, and I let that influence me. I regret that I followed a path laid out for me by others. Once I was a firefighter, I was so much happier in every aspect of my life, except for when it came to Kayla. I dreaded coming home, and she was so unhappy too. Divorce became inevitable. Kayla still hasn’t found her way, and I really regret my part in that.”
“That’s bullshit. You’re allowed to change careers, or anything you want. She married you . She was supposed to love you , not your job.”
Damn, that felt good. “Thank you.”
“What is she doing now?”
“Making a lot of bad decisions.” I sighed. I hadn’t planned on telling Juliette this so soon, but she was being so honest with me, she deserved the same. “She was so driven when we were first together, and even during the divorce, her focus was on living this wonderful life that I couldn’t give her. But she’s lost her way since then. It’s like she just gave up and now she’s bitter and angry and looking in all the wrong places for something to make her feel better. Luckily, I don’t see her often, but when I do run into her, it’s confrontational. She blames me for ruining her life.”
“You know it’s not your fault, right?”
“Yeah, I guess, but I feel bad that she’s struggling. Anyway, I had a reason for telling you this, and it wasn’t to talk about her. Nothing you’ve shared with me is a deal breaker, Juls. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Your honesty is refreshing. Kayla was obsessed with portraying the perfect image. You’ve already shown more integrity, trust, and respect for our relationship on our third date than she ever did, and I think that’s amazing. I’m sorry I brought up an ex to make that point, but I wanted you to understand why it means so much to me that you allowed yourself to be so vulnerable with me.”
“If I was worried about portraying a perfect image, I’d be an abysmal failure. I can’t even pretend to be like that.”
“You’re right, you aren’t like that. You’re genuine, caring, and kind-hearted, and that’s why I like you so much.”
I watched Juliette become increasingly flustered as she struggled to come up with a response. I’d have to work on getting her to believe and accept compliments. I put her out of her misery by making the final turn to the bowling alley that I’d been circling for the last few minutes. Juliette was either paying no attention to where I was driving, or she was as bad at directions as she said.
“Here we are,” I said, pulling into a parking spot. “Let’s bowl.”