Chapter 8
EJ
To wait is not merely to remain inactive.
It is to expect—to look forward to something.
~ Unknown
I’m driving to pick Angie up for our second date. Seeing her and the boys at the grocery Thursday was unexpected. When I dropped the food off at her house later that evening, she met me at the door, stepping onto the porch to thank me.
She politely asked me if I wanted to come in to join them for dinner.
The offer was so tempting, but I know her heart.
She’s not ready to have me around the boys for a meal.
It could confuse them. And we’ve only been on one date.
As much as I wanted to say yes, I told her, “If I thought you really wanted me to come in, I would. But I think it’s best I say no this time. ”
Her face had scrunched in confusion.
“I thought you wanted …” Her words had trailed off.
I told her, “What I want and what I’m going to ask from you are two different things. I’ll wait until the time when you are ready to have me around the boys for a meal. We need to be ready for them to make assumptions and figure out that I really, really like you. That’s when I’ll say yes.”
She got this adorably stubborn expression on her face and said, “What makes you so sure I’ll ever get to that point?”
I smiled and told her, “I’m a patient man, Angie.” And then I corrected myself and said, “Actually, scratch that. I’m not patient at all, but I’m persistent. And, like I’ve told you, I want to take this at your pace. You deserve a man who waits for you.”
She looked up at me and asked a question I never saw coming. “What about you? What do you deserve?”
And as easily as my next breath, I said, “You.” Then I said, “At least I’m trying to be the man who’s worthy of a woman like you.”
She said, “So far, so good.”
Then she thanked me for the meal. I turned to leave. She watched me go. Before I turned out of her neighborhood, I glanced up to see her standing on her porch, watching my truck disappear out of view.
And now, I’m going to pick her up for dinner.
But this time, it’s going to be casual. I’d take her to U.
S. Grant’s every night if she wanted me to.
I’ve got the means. I’m a fireman who hasn’t had anyone to spend his paychecks on in years.
But I think tonight calls for being comfortable. So, I’ve got a different plan in mind.
I pull up in front of Angie’s house and park my truck, walking to the door and knocking.
Just like last time, she slips out, shutting the door quickly so her boys won’t see I’m the one out here.
“Ready?” I ask her.
“Mm hmm,” she says. “I’m curious where we’re going dressed like this.”
I told her to wear jeans and a comfortable top.
“I’ve got reservations at McNabb’s.”
“McNabb’s? The farm?”
“Yep. They’re having a barbecue and hoedown.”
I pause next to my truck, realizing my error too late.
“Sorry,” I say, looking down at Angie. “I didn’t consider the fact that you might want to go somewhere more secluded.”
She reaches out and places her hand on my forearm. “It’s okay, EJ. People already ask me about you all day long at the salon.”
“They do?”
“Yeah. And I tell them we’ve started dating.”
A light breeze could blow me over. “You tell them we’re dating?”
“I tell them we started dating.” Her voice is casual, but her eyes are soft. Her brows raise in a question. “We did. Didn’t we?”
It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts, and then I say, “We most definitely did.”
“That’s what I thought,” she says, smiling up at me.
I take her hand and walk her around to her side of the truck.
I can’t help myself. I have to ask. “So, this is our second date?”
“Yes.” She smiles.
“And now we’re dating?” I quickly add, “Not that I’m complaining or trying to change your mind. I’m just … shocked.”
“Because you thought I wanted to go slowly?”
“Well … yeah.” I run my hand through my hair.
“I want things to go slowly for the boys. They need that. And I needed to be sure I was seriously interested in you so I didn’t lead you on and waste your time.”
“What changed your mind?” I ask her. “It was the flowers, wasn’t it?”
“Flowers never hurt,” she says. “But, to be honest, it was the way you were with the twins at Kroger.”
“They shot me. What was I supposed to do? Stand there like I hadn’t been shot?”
She laughs—really laughs. “Most men would stand there. Very few would collapse onto the floor in the middle of Kroger.”
“Amateurs,” I say, opening her door for her.
She hops up into my truck and I shut the door behind her. Then I climb into the driver’s seat.
Angie looks over at me while I start the truck. “The boys were on the verge of a breakdown that night. Five thirty to seven thirty are really rough hours of the day for them. They’re tired, hungry, and then sometimes they don’t want to settle for bed.”
She shakes her head.
“What?” I ask her.
“You don’t need to hear about my struggles with the boys.”
“I absolutely need to hear about it. All of it.”
I don’t say anything more. I don’t want to freak her out.
If she thinks I haven’t considered the boys, she’s so wrong.
I know she’s a single mom. I’ve had feelings for Angie for a long time.
When I finally decided to get serious about pursuing her, I looked down the road.
I’m turning thirty. I want a family. I’m ready to be a dad.
She’s likely to open her door and jump out while the truck is moving if I said all that right now.
But it’s a fact. I know dating her seriously means including the boys at some point.
And ultimately, if things progress, it means merging our lives—and that definitely includes the boys.
I’d already taken all of that into account before I started asking her to let me take her to dinner.
Five thirty to seven thirty struggles would be something we share in the future, not something she shoulders alone.
“You’re awfully quiet over there,” she says.
“Just thinking,” I admit.
“About my boys?”
“About what a rock star you are and how much you carry on your own.”
“I’ve got Mom, too.”
“You do. But you still do a lot. I admire you.”
She smiles softly.
“And I would never have asked you out without considering the boys.” That’s all I’ll say for now.
“Meaning?”
“You can share anything about them—about motherhood—with me anytime. I want to know. I care.”
She’s quiet. I don’t push her to tell me what she’s thinking. This is only our second date. We’ve known one another for years. But we’re in new territory. She still needs time. And I’m going to give her what she needs.
The road to the McNabbs’ property is lined with low wood fences and trees. We pull up the gravel driveway and park alongside a pasture.
The McNabbs started hosting summer dinners and dances out here a few years back. They charge a cover and then they put on a massive barbecue and barn dance once a month from May through September.
I recognize plenty of the cars parked along the driveway and in the overflow gravel area beyond the house. I place my hand on Angie’s back and lead her toward the barn.
“You can still back out,” I say, smiling down at her.
“And why would I do that?” she asks.
I don’t answer her. She’s choosing to be seen with me in front of a good number of townspeople. That’s what matters.
We step into the barn and find a seat at one of the tables that have been placed around the edge of a large dance floor.
When Jacob McNabb announces that the food is served, people line up out on the grass, grabbing plates and filling them with meat and sides.
Angie and I eat our meal, laughing and talking comfortably.
After we’ve polished off some cobbler with ice cream, we head onto the dance floor for some two-stepping.
Truck’s right. I’m no dancer. But I manage not to trip her or step on anyone’s toes.
Angie’s far better than me. And she’s smiling nonstop, swinging her hips, shuffling her feet and looking over at me regularly.
When it comes time for a slow dance, I pull her into my arms and place my hand on her back.
We sway to the music, her looking up into my eyes and me cherishing the feel of her, the expression on her face, and the way people keep watching us, but trying to look as though they aren’t.
At the end of the night, I drive her home.
“I had so much fun!” she says, relaxing back into her seat across the cab from me.
“I’m glad,” I tell her.
“You’re too good to be true, EJ.”
“I promise, I’m not. I’m a simple man. And I’ve got my flaws.”
“You always seem to know what to say.”
“Seem is the operative word in that sentence. I just tell you the truth. I’m winging it here. Hoping I don’t mess things up. Grateful you finally gave me a chance.”
She reaches over, placing her hand on my thigh. “You’ve made me feel so special.”
“You are special.”
She should feel special no matter what happens between us. If I’ve been a part of making her see herself the way I see her, that makes all my pursuit of her worthwhile.
I pull up in front of her house and park.
We walk to the front door, an ease between us that should come far later in a relationship. I guess it comes from knowing one another as long as we have. Even though this is new, there’s something familiar and comfortable between us.
When we reach the door, Angie says, “Tonight was perfect.”
“So much for my theory that you should only go on one date with me.”
“I’m glad you were wrong,” she says, her voice softening.
She steps closer to me and reaches her hand up to run it through my hair. My breath comes out in a deep exhale.
“Thank you, EJ,” she says.
“Thank you,” I say.
And then I lean in and kiss her. She moves her hand to the back of my head and I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her close. She tastes like berries and vanilla and sweetness.
Her hand lands on my chest and she grips the fabric of my shirt. I slowly pull back, placing one more kiss on her lips. She’s intoxicating and we’re under a porch light after a second date. I’ve only got so much restraint.
“So?” I lightly drag the back of my fingers down her face and then I lift her hand with mine, interlacing our fingers. “How about date number three?”
“Yes,” she says easily, not even putting up the semblance of a fight.
“You better be careful,” I tease her. “I might get used to you saying yes to me.”
“I might want you to get used to it,” she says softly.
I lean in and kiss her again, and then I step back so she can go inside.
When I get home, I text her.
EJ: Thank you for giving me a chance.
Angie: Thanks for being patient and persistent.
EJ: You’re worth it.
Angie: I’ll let you know a night that can work for next time.
EJ: What about a lunch date? I can take a little longer break one day this week and meet you somewhere.
Angie: That could work. I’ll text you days when I have an opening in the middle of the day.
EJ: I’m looking forward to it.
Angie: Me too. Goodnight, EJ.
EJ: Goodnight, Angie.