Chapter 37
PRESENT
DELANEY
I don’t know why I expected things to be drastically different after this weekend.
Monday morning hasn’t brought anything new with it, other than this constant flutter in my stomach every time I get a spare moment to check my phone and see Darren’s name.
I’ve been single for so long that I’ve completely forgotten what dating entails.
God, dating. Is that even what we’re doing now? The lines are still pretty blurry.
I blame that on all the vodka I consumed.
Sunday was quiet, and I almost felt awkward being alone at my place, behaving as if nothing had happened after Darren walked me home the night before. It wasn’t exactly a romantic moonlight stroll, but it was reassuring, and now I guess I just have to wait and see what he’s going to do next.
Darren’s the one with all of the experience, after all. Even if said experience was a failed marriage where he didn’t even share a bed with his wife. That tidbit of information has been repeated a few times in my head since he said it.
My lunch bag is open, the contents splayed out on my desk as I pick at my wilting salad.
It’s been almost four hours since I replied to his text, and now it’s like a switch has been flipped and I’m anxious, sixteen-year-old Delaney all over again.
Lunch is almost over, and the second the bell rings, my classroom will no longer be empty.
I tap my screen and steal another look to see if I’ve missed his text, but nope. Still nothing. Chewing on my lip, I type in my passcode and open our texts, reading back through them.
Darren : Good morning, Elle.
Me : You’re up early.
Me : Good morning.
Darren : I do have a real big boy job, you know?
Me : Oh wow. I thought you just got paid to sit at home and stare out the window.
Darren : That’s what you thought I did? Not ran a secret account on Only Fans or something?
Me : You do have nice feet.
Darren : Keep complimenting me and I’ll let you see them. Socks off.
Me : Is that what we’re doing for our first date? A foot peep show?
Darren : It will be once I change our plans for tonight.
Me : Tonight? What if I had plans already?
Darren : Cancel them.
I didn’t reply until I got to school, more for my mental health than as an attempt to keep him waiting, although that was also a bonus.
In my mind, the closer I texted to the start of class, the less time I’d have to sit and do nothing but wait for a reply, right?
Not right. It turns out that my plan backfired worse than an old car in the high school parking lot because now he’s making me wait.
Me : Making demands is brave. Try again.
Ugh, what have I done?
“Can I spend my recess in here with you?”
Abbie’s standing in the doorway, holding on to the same bag that she had in the café with both her aunts. The sweet smile on her face is adorable, but it’s not the only reason why I wave her close.
“As long as I’m not out on supervision, you can always sit in here during recess.”
She beams toward me. I pull a chair up to the other side of the desk for her and sit back in mine.
“What are you having for lunch?” she asks.
The heavy bag in her arms falls to the desk beside my salad container, a few bags of beads rolling out.
I take a bit of pride in recognizing what all of the different kinds of strings she pulls out next are for.
I’ll take any kind of bonus points when it comes to Abbie, and it seems taking part in her bracelet-building sessions earns me the most.
“I made this salad this morning, but it’s not great. I’m more of a Greek salad kind of woman, but all I had was plain lettuce and ranch dressing in the fridge,” I explain.
Abbie crinkles her nose. “I don’t like lettuce.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“Do you have other food?”
“I already ate my chocolate,” I admit, almost sheepishly.
“Do you want to share mine?”
“You have chocolate in that bag of yours?”
She giggles and pulls the last of her supplies out before revealing maybe the most important part of any crafting session—treats.
“Dad always makes sure I have some just in case,” she says, shaking the bag of chocolate pretzels.
“He’s a pretty good dad, isn’t he?”
Her eyes light up as she rips open the bag and sets it between us. “He’s the best.”
“Well, do we have time to start a couple of new bracelets? There’s fifteen minutes left of recess.”
“Yep!”
I sit and wait while she gets me the right amount of string and ties the end before offering me my choice of beads. The purple ones grab my attention, so I choose them and get started.
“Did you give my dad the bracelet you made before?” she asks.
I gulp. “No. I didn’t get a chance.”
“Because I hit you with a door? I’m sorry. It was an accident.”
“Oh! It’s okay. I know it was. I’m fine, anyway. Good as new,” I rush out.
Abbie smiles in reply and slides an L bead onto her string.
Watching her concentrate on something she truly loves doing helps settle some of my anxiety about her father.
If we were all as unbothered as a seven-year-old, there wouldn’t be even a quarter of as many awkward or tense situations as there are.
Sitting in the comfortable silence, I grab another shade of purple beads and start alternating between the two.
Abbie doesn’t seem to have to think about what she’s doing because she just .
. . does it. Her fingers move quickly but sure as she starts on the last half of her bracelet.
I pick up my pace, casting her curious looks every few seconds.
When there’s a knock on the classroom door, she doesn’t so much as blink, let alone look toward it. I, on the other hand, do and immediately turn bright red.
“Is now an okay time? ”
I stand, my heart trying to leap through my chest. “Yes. Hi. Come in.”
“Hey, Elle,” Darren drawls, my name rolling perfectly off his tongue. When his eyes flick to the opposite side of my desk, he adds a surprised “Hi, sweetheart.”
“Dad? What are you doing here?”
He reaches up to pinch the brim of his hat, almost appearing a bit embarrassed to have been caught here. “Uh, you forgot your pen at home.”
“My pen? Which one?”
“The pink one.”
Abbie frowns, her lips twisting as she thinks about that answer. I hold back a laugh at her confusion and focus on her father. It’s not like I want to jump to conclusions, but it looks a lot like he came just to see me.
“Did you need a bag for her pen?” I ask, the tease coming naturally.
He looks down at the one in his hand, as if he forgot it was there. “Well, that, and something else.”
I hum, leaning back in my chair as he starts toward the desk.
His outfit is very different than the ones I’ve seen him in recently.
More professional, with a dress shirt and tight-fitting jeans.
The hat is still there, though, like it always is.
And did he trim the mustache? Because it almost fades into the new scruff on his jaw like he spent a few minutes in front of the bathroom mirror this morning.
He stops a couple of feet away from me and reaches into the bag. First, a bag of Twizzlers appears, and then, a frosty bottle of cherry Coke. Two of my favourite things in the entire world and the reasons behind my occasionally high blood sugar.
I roll my lips together, looking at him and melting. It’s not supposed to be this easy, but I’m already doubting that I’ll be able to make him work for anything. At this rate, I’ll be the one begging him for a chance, and that’s totally unacceptable. We haven’t even gone on a date yet, Delaney .
“Are those for me?” I ask, my tone even as I fight not to give myself away.
His tongue slips across his teeth as he grins and chuckles. “They are. I mean, I had them in my car, so I figured you might like them.”
“You keep unopened licorice and cherry Coke in your car?”
“He does! I usually eat the licorice. I’m not allowed to have the Coke, though,” Abbie says, focused on tying her bracelet together. “I ate half the bag yesterday.”
Surprise flickers through me. He reads my mind, nodding in silent confirmation.
“That’s a coincidence,” I whisper.
Darren sets everything on my desk, his fingers lingering. “They always find their way into my grocery cart. Almost like I can’t help myself.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“Good.”
“Are you leaving now, Dad?”
“Geez, are you in a hurry to get rid of me?” he asks, reaching over to tap the underside of her chin.
“You’re distracting Ms. Delaney.”
I let out a soft laugh and shrug. “You heard her.”
“Oh!” Abbie shouts, making me jump. “His bracelet. Give him his bracelet!”
“What bracelet?” he asks, staring directly at me despite speaking to his daughter.
“The one Ms. Delaney made you at the donut place. Before I hit her in the nose.”
My skin burns beneath my heavy blouse. I tuck my hair behind my ear and attempt to play this off with a loose laugh. “Oh, I don’t know where I put that.”
“You made me a bracelet?” Darren asks, of course not letting it go.
“I was bored. ”
“And thought of me.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. You were just the topic of conversation, and I wound up making something for you. That’s all.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” he taunts.
“And your ego is showing.”
“Would you prefer I tucked it away?”
I roll my eyes, rolling my chair until my legs are trapped beneath my desk. “The bell is going to ring any minute.”
“I’d better leave, then.”
“You should,” I reply, immediately wishing he didn’t have to.
With Abbie distracted, Darren slides forward and places his hand atop mine, leaving it there while he kisses her forehead. I hold my breath as he squeezes my fingers and then slowly retreats, taking his touch with him.
My skin tingles with the lingering warmth from his hand as I stabilize my breathing and look up at him again, eyes growing lost in the certainty glimmering in his.
“I’ll see you later,” he promises both of us.
Abbie glances up for a quick moment. “Bye, Dad!”
I can’t speak louder than a whisper. “See you.”
He’s reluctant to leave; I can see it written in every clunky footstep he takes toward the door and the lines between his brows when he looks back at me over his shoulder. I offer him a smile that feels heavy in the moment as that stubborn string between us throws a hissy fit in my chest.
It’s not until he’s out of view and I watch as my phone lights up at the desk that I release some of the tension that’s grown in my limbs.
Darren : Well? What do you think? Will you please let me take you out tonight?
Darren : Please say yes. And don’t forget my bracelet .
I almost say no but can’t get myself to type anything other than a resounding yes.