Chapter 8 #2
As soon as the front door closed, Jane turned to me. “Caroline!” She practically screamed. “You never said that Wyatt was HOT!”
“Jane, shame on you, checking out other men. I’m telling Charlie.”
“Oh! He’d be the first to agree,” she said, taking a seat on one of the barstools, making herself at home in Jeff’s kitchen. “All this talk about Wyatt this and Wyatt that, and you never mentioned that he’s gorgeous.”
“He’s a little scruffy, don’t you think?” I asked, sitting down beside her.
“Maybe a little.” Jane scrunched her perfect nose. “But in a hot, bad boy way. So remind me, why aren’t you dating?”
“Other than because he’s the absolute worst?” I asked. Jane gave me a disbelieving look. “Fine, I don’t hate him as much as I used to,” I shrugged my shoulders. “But he’s still a Scott. And completely not my type and... and I don’t think he’s interested in anything long term.”
“He’s at a family dinner,” my mom said as she gathered the dinnerware to set Jeff’s table in the adjoining dining room.
This home was so old-school; there was a door to the kitchen.
I noted that my mom didn’t have to ask Jeff where to find plates or silverware.
“That’s more than Greg ever did,” she tutted.
“Yeah, but he came to meet Charlie. He needs investors to expand his business.”
“What’s his business, again?” asked Jeff.
“He converts vintage cars into electric vehicles,” I answered.
“You can do that?” my mom asked. The three peppered me with questions. I was surprised by how many I could answer and my growing sense of pride in Wyatt’s business.
“I have a couple old cars out back,” said Jeff. “Do you think he’d like to see them?”
“Yes, for sure!” I wondered when and how I became so confident speaking for Wyatt Knox.
Certainly, it was an odd choice bringing him to the getting-to-know-Jeff dinner, but it worked.
Wyatt definitely made things less awkward.
The talk about his business continued through dinner of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and green salad.
Charlie was obsessed with the car. He wanted to buy it—yesterday.
Honestly, I had never imagined the meal could be so much fun.
Wyatt and Charlie got along great. Watching them together, it occurred to me that perhaps Greg had been intimidated by my brother.
Why wouldn’t he be? Charlie was wildly successful, effortlessly cool, and the one man I looked up to.
Wyatt, on the other hand, didn’t seem intimidated by Charlie.
The two were talking about weightlifting.
Wyatt told Charlie all about how he welded his own rack.
Charlie wanted to see it, which led Wyatt to invite my brother to lift with him.
I didn’t know how I felt about this budding bromance.
As my mom set her chocolate bundt cake on the table, Jane and Charlie glanced at one another. Jane gave the slightest nod, and Charlie cleared his throat. “Um... we have exciting news!”
My mom hurriedly took her seat. “Yes?”
“So . . . ” began Charlie.
“I’m pregnant!” Jane squealed.
My mom hopped up from her seat and ran to the other side of the table. “Charlie! Jane!” her voice cracked. She hugged them, her cheeks wet with happy tears.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t even turn the corner of my lips up to fake a smile.
I had turned to stone. A baby! I didn’t expect them to have kids so soon.
I never once heard Charlie mention wanting kids.
He was always torturing my baby dolls. Not that he’d be a bad father.
It was obvious from the way he treated Jane that he’d be a good dad.
Dad. Charlie would be a dad, and I would be the spinster aunt.
They were moving on with life, and I was.
.. I was bringing my nemesis to a family dinner?
Wyatt placed his hand on my knee. His touch was the jolt I needed to pull myself together.
“That’s the best news!” I said. Fake smile. Deep breath. “When’s the baby due?” I asked a little too cheerfully.
“In February. We’re hoping for a Valentine’s baby. Wouldn’t that be fun?” Jane was too excited or too kind to notice my weirdness.
“How wonderful!” I choked on my words. “I’ll be an aunt.” A tear slipped out. Not a happy one, but Jane and Charlie never needed to know.
“Aunt Sticky!” crooned my brother.
“No... I won’t be Aunt Sticky,” I said with an edge to my voice.
“What will your grandma name be?” Jane asked my mom.
“I have no idea. I’ll have to think. How are you feeling?” she asked Jane.
I busied myself with serving the cake. Best to keep my hands occupied and my face down so no one would see my misery.
Wyatt passed plates around the table while adding his own congratulations.
As Jane started talking about morning sickness, my head started to throb.
I didn’t want to be jealous. I wanted to be thrilled for Jane and Charlie.
I should have been happy for them. Why wasn’t I happy?
Why did I keep thinking of how much I wanted this for my life?
My mom joked with Jeff, asking him what he thought about dating a grandma.
He leaned over and gave her a casual kiss.
It was really sweet, but it made me ill.
The whole evening had been lovely, but the more I tried to think of reasons I should be happy, the more I felt myself slowly crumble inside.
Wyatt devoured his large piece of cake in the blink of an eye.
And then he asked me for my untouched slice.
I passed it to him. I’d lost my appetite.
When he finished, he stood up. “Dinner was excellent,” he said. “Please allow me to do the dishes.”
“Me too.” I jumped up, grateful for a chance to flee to the kitchen.
My mom caught my eye. I registered her concern, and while I appreciated that she knew this was hard for me, I didn’t want sympathy; I just wanted to escape. Nothing was worse than falling apart in a stranger’s home.
Alone in the kitchen, Wyatt said, “I don’t mind doing the dishes, if you need to... I don’t know...”
“I just need to be alone for a minute.”
He nodded, like he understood. But could he? I doubted it.
“Well then, I’m going to load the dishwasher.” He handed me the keys to his Porsche. “Do you want to take my car for a drive?”
“You would trust me with your car? No, Wyatt, I can’t take it. Not when I’m this upset.”
“Okay, you can just sit in it and be alone, or you can stay here and talk to me while I clean up. But I wouldn’t suggest that.” He gave me the kindest smile. “Someone might come in and you’d have to fake being happy again.”
“I’ll just sit in the car.”
“That door leads to the garage.” He pointed. “From there, you can take a side door outside.”
“Why are you being so nice to me when I’m always such a brat to you?” And everyone else, I thought to myself.
“Maybe I like brats.” He started rinsing plates. “I’ll be out in a bit.”
As I cried in Wyatt’s Porsche, my turbulent feelings washed over me.
I was ashamed that such happy news upset me.
I was sad. I was jealous. I was embarrassed.
I was angry that my life wasn’t what I thought it would be.
I was afraid I would never be loved—not like Charlie loved Jane.
By the time the purple sky deepened to navy, my tears had slowed.
Wyatt tapped on my window. I rolled it down.
“I said your goodbyes, told them you were feeling sick. Hope that was okay.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Once we were driving down the road, he asked softly, “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head, and the tears started again.
With his eyes steady on the dark, windy road, he passed me a packet of tissues.
I’m not sure how Wyatt did it—maybe it was because he had already seen me at my worst, but he made me feel completely safe being myself.
I blew my nose loudly, not bothering to be ladylike.
“Now I know why your brother calls you Sticky,” he joked.
“I hate that nickname. It’s because my parents sometimes call me Caro, and Charlie thinks it sounds like Karo syrup,” I said through sniffles. I had pretty much cried myself out. “I’m so embarrassed. Tonight was a disaster.”
“You do not need to apologize. For me, tonight was a success. Charlie was awesome. Not only did he promise to invest in my company, but I think I have a new lifting buddy.”
“Glad it was good for someone.”
Wyatt parked in the large warehouse where he stored barn finds as well as finished cars. We pulled up next to the pick up I rode in the other night.
“Plus, you got to see me cry,” I said with a watery laugh.
“Caroline...” When he said my name, it resonated through me like a church bell ringing. “I hate seeing you cry.”
“I feel so dumb,” I said. “I should be happy. I mean, I am . I am going to love this baby. But...”
“You wanted it to be you,” he finished.
It was hard to read his face in the shadowy garage, which was probably for the best; any more empathy and I would have started bawling again.
“I did. And I’m so ashamed of feeling jealous. And Jane, you met her, she’s a sweetheart; she deserves good things. But I want them, too!” And then I was crying again.
Wyatt got out of the car, walked around, and opened my door.
“Want a hug?” he asked, his arms outstretched.
I clambered out and collapsed onto him. He wrapped me in the best hug of my life.
It felt so good to have his arms around me; I felt supported in a way I’d never been before.
He didn’t say a word. He just held me and occasionally patted my back.
The headlights clicked off automatically, leaving us in the pitch-black garage.
In the darkness, what started as a friendly hug began to feel like something more.
Wyatt slowly rubbed my back. I turned my face up to his.
I couldn’t really see him. He was just a vague mystery.
I found myself wishing he’d make a move.
“Wyatt?” I asked softly, not sure what I was asking. Was he feeling the same strong pull I felt? He let go and stepped away. Apparently, not.
That was probably for the best. I didn’t trust my feelings. I could fall for Wyatt so fast and so hard. And I had already been down that road, giving my all to an emotionally unavailable man. I loved Greg wholly and fiercely in a way only a naive young woman could love. I wouldn’t do that again.