11. Chloe
ELEVEN
CHLOE
NOW
So maybe I stretched the truth a little bit.
It wasn’t a complete lie; I did come across a signed copy of Tommy Caldwell’s autobiography one day at work, who I’ve definitely heard Tyler mention more than once whenever he gets the chance to talk about rock climbing.
Did I get it as a freebie? No, I paid full price.
But Tyler doesn’t need to know that. I had been scouring my brain for ways to see Tyler again outside of our regular weekly pub hangs with Reid and Annika.
Where we left things at the housewarming party was like a weight in my gut.
Even though we all collected together and even in the time since, it’s seemed normal.
But I can’t shake the feeling that things are off between us.
This is how I ended up sitting in my parked car in front of Tyler’s ranch house on a weekday morning.
I’m just going to knock and drop off the books and leave.
This a normal thing for friends to do. They drop off gifts and say hey.
This isn’t strange. This is normal behavior.
So, why does it feel like my gut is bubbling and I’m gripping my steering wheel so tightly as if I’m rooting myself to stay put.
Somehow, I manage to get from my car to his front door because my knuckles meet the rustic wood door in two quick knocks.
It’s early. The birds are waking up, singing their pleasant songs.
The air is a bit thick, hinting that this will be an unseasonably warm day.
I hoped I’d be able to drop the books off while he wasn’t home so I could leave them on the porch.
Like a coward. But I spied his car before I even rolled up the driveway.
I rock on my feet, waiting another minute before pivoting on my heel and dumping the books at the rocking chair beside the door when it swings open.
Fuck me.
Tyler is wearing a muscle tee. The kind that looks like he cut the sleeves off himself, and the armholes dip low.
Why do I have such a soft spot for muscle tees?
I can see hints of his strong torso peeking through and a shine appearing along his skin.
Shirts like this should be illegal to wear in front of friends.
My hand tingles to reach into that armhole and touch his skin to see if he is burning up from the same heat I feel in his presence.
He clears his throat and my eyes fly up to meet his.
His deep auburn hair is a disheveled mess and he’s wearing chunky tortoise frame glasses I’ve never seen him in.
I look down and see he has nothing on his feet.
“Oh! Did I wake you up?” I say in way of greeting.
Tyler crosses his forearms over his chest and leans against the doorframe, “No, no, I wake up quite early, ya know, ranch life and all. What did I do to earn this early visit from you?” he says, giving me a sleepy grin and I have to will my knees from buckling.
I hold up the books, “I wanted to drop these off, like I mentioned over text.”
“Ah, right, come on in. Do you have a moment? I could get your opinion on something.” Tyler straightens and opens the door wide for me.
“Yeah, my day is open. I wasn’t expecting you to be home, actually.”
“I took a personal day.” Tyler replies. I wait for an explanation but he doesn’t elaborate.
I plant my feet in the foyer before continuing and let out an exhale, “Ty, I can’t do this.” I say finally, feeling the weight rush out of me.
Tyler turns back to me, confusion washing over his face, “Do what?”
“I don’t know why I feel the need to apologize for last weekend, but it feels like I did something wrong.
Things are weird between us now and I need to know what I did wrong, so I don’t do it again.
I’m sorry if I crossed a line. I want to help you, you’re my friend.
But I recognize that maybe what comes naturally to me isn’t what you need. I’m sorry.”
“Chlo.” Tyler takes the slightest step towards me. His eyes have grown into huge saucers. Crap. I’m ruining everything.
“Sorry! Sorry, I just–I felt like I needed to say something to you. Maybe it’s the fact we are getting closer as friends and are not quite surface level friends anymore.
Anni has only been my closest friend for so long, and I realize that I don’t know how to be friends with people anymore and I don’t want to push you way and–”
“Chloe,” Tyler says firmly as he plants his hands on either of my shoulders.
“Breathe.” He instructs and I follow his lead.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. You helped me and I’m grateful.
It’s been a while since I had one of those panic attacks, I’m sorry if it came across like I was angry at you.
I’m not.” He squeezes my shoulders once.
“You still have it in you to help me for a minute?”
I exhale again and nod. He releases my shoulders and it feels wrong.
I follow him to the sunken living room at the back of the house.
Boxes are scattered about with stacks of books and papers.
Some frames and boxes are stacked against the couches.
I come to sit on one of the armchairs free of any items and glance at the cardboard box.
It has “Mom’s things” written in black marker along the side.
I glance up at Tyler who has taken a spot on the floor.
“You inspired me last weekend with Pam’s library.
So, I started at my bookshelf over in the hall, like I texted you, but it’s like I could hear my mom nagging me to take out her books and do the same.
” Tyler pauses a moment, raking his hands through his hair.
“Today would’ve been my mom’s birthday. I thought I’d honor her by finally going through the boxes I packed away years ago.
” I let Tyler talk, but his confession crashes into me.
“I am having trouble with where to put what. My mom had books everywhere around the house. I know it probably makes zero sense that I packed up all her books only to unpack them but–”
“It doesn’t need to make sense. It’s whatever you needed to do to feel right. Tyler, I’m so sorry, I had no idea what day it was today. I can head out, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Please, no, stay. It’s better to spend these days with people I–people I care about. Like my friends.”
“Does Reid usually come over?”
“Sometimes, yeah. His uncle Martin knew my parents. Not closely but knew of them a bit since they lived in the same town. There’s been times I went over to his house, and we would have a cake as if we’d celebrate them.
So, it was a pleasant surprise to see you show up at my door.
I’d like you to stay.” My stomach does somersaults at this statement.
I nod quickly, “I don’t have work today, I covered a shift two weeks ago for someone, so I have today off. What can I do to help?” I point to the box closest to him. “What box are you working on right now?”
He reaches in the box and pulls out a thick hardback book. “My mom’s cookbook collection. She was quite the collector. She loved to cook and she was damn good.”
“You must’ve gotten that from her, your cooking is some of the best I’ve had.”
Tyler smirks, “Ah, thanks, you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“No, really! Everything I’ve tried has been insanely delicious. It could rival Annika’s parents’ cooking.”
“Well thanks, my mom and I did cook all the time together. It’s some of my favorite memories with her.” Tyler continues pulling out book after book until a stack of at least ten are in his arms. “I figured the kitchen is the best place for them, can you help find a spot?”
I leap up and grab the books from his arms and bring them to the kitchen island counter.
Tyler continues to pull out the cookbooks from various boxes until we have all of them stacked in the kitchen.
There are probably thirty different cookbooks.
It’s going to be a real challenge to find a spot.
Maybe we could turn one of the cupboards into a mini bookshelf.
I start sorting them by author when one catches my eye on the top of a stack.
It has a coil bound and an illustrated cover.
“Is this the ranch?” I pick up the book and turn to Tyler.
He joins me in the kitchen. His smile is restrained but he nods.
I look down at the book again. It’s titled, “Home with the Hastings.” The first recipe is called “Marry Me Bacon”.
I flip through a few more and see one called “Tyler’s Favorite Cookies”.
I feel my eyes welling up as I leaf through the pages.
It seems to be a nearly completed cookbook.
Each recipe has doodles next to it that represent the ingredients from the dish.
A recipe towards the end is called, “Gus’ Famous Birthday Cake. ”
“I told my mom she should try to publish it but she always refused. She said these recipes would be family secrets.” Tyler seems to whisper.
I hadn’t realized he moved closer to me until a musky, earthy and warm scent caressed my surrounding.
I peer up over my shoulder and see Tyler leaning in, assumingly so he can see the recipes as I flipped through the pages.
“I’m guessing Gus is your dad?” I clear my throat and turn back to the book.
He nods his head in response. Tyler’s face is restrained.
I wonder if this is the first time he’s seen this book since his parents died.
I pause, looking at the recipe. I’m not much of a baker but it seems simple enough.
Flour, sugar, some frosting. There are some scribbles written in the margins.
Add rainbow sprinkles for Tyler is written near the frosting section.
Sliced strawberries in-between layers for Melanie.
“And Melanie is your mom?" Tyler quirks his head at that.
“Yeah, what is it?”