Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“Yes, but it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m out with you. Don is the last person on my mind.”
“Well, we were talking about your daughter. Not just Don. I want to know everything about your kids. I want to know everything about you.”
She huffed a dry laugh. “None of it is really that interesting.”
“It is because it’s part of your story.”
“While we’re on the topic of exes, was there a reason you flew out for Chai’s recovery instead of her mom?”
“Well, you know relationships between parents and children can be complicated. I know Janelle loves Chai, but she’s always put her career first. That’s what makes her feel fulfilled in her life.
When Chai got the news she needed surgery, I don’t think it even crossed her mind to ask her mom to fly out.
It’s not that Janelle doesn’t care; she just cares more about herself.
I was always the one who called out when Chai was sick and the one who rushed out of work to make it to her high school soccer games. I’ve always been her stability.”
“I know you said you feel like you missed a lot, but to me, it sounds like you were pretty involved.”
“I’m still involved. Maybe a little too involved.” The way I lurked outside the bathroom during Chai’s recovery was proof of that.
Pam laughed. “My kids say that about me. They’re actually pretty happy that we started dating. I’m not up their asses as much these days.”
“You talk to them about me?” I asked. I obviously talked about Pam with Chai, but her mother and I had been divorced for decades.
“Of course I do. I mean, I was apprehensive at first, because they’ve only ever known me with their dad, but they just want me to be happy.”
“The next time I’m in Briar Glenn, we should do dinner,” I said. “Unless that’s too much,” I quickly tacked on. I didn’t want her to feel pressured. Like I was moving too fast and thrusting myself into her life outside our relationship.
Her bright smile eased some of my apprehension. “I’d love that. I’ll host at my house. You can see my packed dining room in action.”
I thought about that long dining room table with Pam and her family seated around it, along with the addition of me and Chai. It would certainly be a different atmosphere than I was used to, but the prospect of being included in such an important part of her life would mean a lot to me.
“That would be great.”
The waiter returned to our table with our starter.
“The arancini,” he said, setting a plate with a smear of marinara sauce and four fried rice balls in the middle of the table.
“Thank you,” Pam and I said in unison.
The waiter dipped his head. “Enjoy.”
“You’re going to love these,” I said, setting one of the arancini on a plate for Pam.
She looked at it skeptically before leaning in to whisper, “Is this the type of place where I need to eat it with a fork, or…”
I chuckled. I assumed she wasn’t used to eating at a restaurant like this.
“Babe, you can eat it however you’d like.
But if it makes you feel better”—I reached for the plate, pinching a ball of arancini between my fingers—“I eat it with my hands.” I took a bite, and the crunch of the fried risotto was audible.
Pam followed suit, her face lighting up while she chewed. “Oh my gods,” she said with her hand covering her mouth. “These are amazing.”
“I thought you’d like them. They’re my favorite.”
She took another bite, and when she swallowed, she said, “How do you always know?”
“Know what?”
“Everything with you is always just so…perfect.”
I laughed because I was anything but. “I can assure you, I am far from perfect.”
She propped her elbow on the table, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at me. It almost felt like she was staring into my soul, like she really saw me. “Maybe, but you’re perfect for me.”
Other than the whole distance thing, I thought to myself.
“You’re perfect for me, too.”
Pam was the entire package: Intelligent.
Funny. Beautiful. Dedicated to her family and with a newfound dedication to herself.
She was taking control of her life and making it all the things she wanted it to be, and while I was so incredibly proud of her, I didn’t want our long-distance relationship holding her back.
In a few days, she’d be on a plane back to Briar Glenn and I’d be here alone. For tonight, though, I was going to enjoy this. I was going to savor every single second with her like it was my last.
“After dinner, there’s somewhere I’d like to take you,” I said while we waited for our entrées. “If you’re up for it, that is.”
“It’s Valentine’s Day. I’m up for anything.”
“Easy there. You might regret that a little bit later.” I winked and she rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her true feelings away.
—
“All right. This way,” I said, leading Pam down a side street with her arm looped through mine. Between her heels and the uneven icy sidewalks, I was glad we’d abstained from drinking during dinner.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“You’ll see.” It was a gamble to take a baker to a bakery, but I had a feeling she’d appreciate what I had lined up.
A scrolled wooden sign hung over the shop, and the warm light from inside filtered out onto the sidewalk.
“A patisserie?” Pam said when we came to a stop. She clasped her hands together in excitement.
“I figured we could get some dessert. Unless it’s some cardinal sin for a baker to eat at another bakery,” I teased.
“I am not that kind of baker.”
I held the door open for her, and when we stepped inside, we were met with the toasty scent of caramelized sugar.
The shop was beautiful. It was baroque inspired, with gilded scrollwork on the walls and a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, like something you’d find on the streets of Paris.
“Hello!” said a gargoyle dressed in a white chef’s uniform from behind the counter.
“Hello,” Pam said brightly.
“Is there anything I can help you with today?” he asked.
“We’re just browsing,” I said.
He tipped his head. “If there’s anything you need, don’t be afraid to ask.”
We made our way around the shop, scanning the glass display cases. Rows of baked goods lined the shelves, with everything from flaky pain au chocolat to colorful macarons to fresh fruit tarts.
There was such a wide selection that it was almost overwhelming, until a chocolate mousse cake topped with raspberries caught my attention.
“Look at that,” I said, giving Pam a soft nudge.
Her gaze slowly shifted toward the cake. “Oh, that looks heavenly.”
I knew what I was going to order.
“Anything catching your eye?” I asked.
“I was thinking an éclair maybe,” she said, pointing to them in the case. They were huge puffy pastries slathered with a thick strip of chocolate icing.
“Oh, that’s another good choice.”
“If you want the cake—”
“Why not both?” I suggested.
“Yes,” the gargoyle agreed. “Why not both?”
“The two of you are conspiring against me,” said Pam.
“We’ll take the chocolate mousse cake and four éclairs,” I said.
Pam’s eyes snapped to me. “Four—and an entire cake?”
I shrugged. “There’s still some time left in your trip.”
The cashier looked between the two of us and smiled. “Let me box that up for you.”