Chapter 7 Poppy
POPPY
The entire ride to the restaurant, Jax has been quiet. I assumed he was absorbed in drawing something on his iPad, but when I park the car, he says, “If it sucks, can we leave?”
I turn to face him in the back seat. “If what sucks? Dinner?” I ask. I shouldn’t be surprised that Jax has questions or maybe even anxiety about going out tonight. We’ve never done anything like this before.
He shrugs. “What if it’s boring?”
I take a deep breath and nod. “Honey, we’re having dinner. That’s all. We’ll eat and we’ll go.” I say it to him because it’s the same thing I’ve been telling myself all week. “Are you nervous?”
I ask him the question I haven’t dared even to think.
Because I am nervous as hell. I changed my outfit six times.
The first two skirts seemed too frivolous.
Black jeans felt like what I wear to work.
The wrap dress I dusted off was flattering but so low-cut, I knew the only thing I’d be able to think about all night was covering my cleavage.
I finally put on a dress I bought eight years ago. I had no idea back then that I’d have no more date nights.
But tonight, I feel pretty and so nervous, I’ve been fighting the urge to puke all afternoon.
“I’m not nervous,” Jax says.
But I’m not convinced.
I reach my hand behind me and squeeze his knee. “We’ve got this,” I tell him. “Come on. We eat, we talk to some nice new people, and we go back home and watch movies. Deal?”
He nods, unbuckles himself, and jumps out, tucking his tablet in the pocket on the back of the seat.
We walk side by side through the parking lot, and I see Phantom standing out front with Holly and Daisy.
My heart catches in my throat at the sight of him. “That’s them,” I whisper, my hand resting lightly on Jax’s back.
Jax’s head whips toward me. “That guy? What is he, a superhero? He’s huge.”
I chuckle, remembering in that minute that my little boy, who happens to love animation and drawing, is still a little boy.
Of course he’d think Phantom looks like a comic book hero.
Most of the teachers he has are women and out-of-shape middle-aged men.
I don’t think he’s ever seen anyone in real life who looks like Phantom.
I wave, and I watch as Phantom’s eyes travel from my hair, down my dress, to my shoes and back.
“Are we late?” I ask. “Have you been waiting long?”
Daisy is the one who answers. “We told our dad it was good date etiquette to get here first.” She looks from me to Jax. “Hi, I’m Daisy.” She sticks out her hand, and my son dutifully shakes it.
“I’m Jax,” he says.
“It’s not a…” I start to remind everyone here, especially myself, that this is not a date, when Phantom leans forward, and the words die on my lips.
He leans close to my ear and plants the lightest, airiest kiss against my ear. “You look stunning,” he says. Then he pulls back and sticks out his hand. “Jax, if I had a cool name like yours, I wouldn’t need a nickname. But since my real name is lame, my friends call me Phantom.”
I swear my son’s mouth falls open. But he clamps it shut fast and shakes Phantom’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” he says.
Holly introduces herself to my son, then turns and gives me a warm hug. “You look really beautiful,” she says. “Wow. I love your dress.”
Before I can answer, Daisy takes charge. “Our tables should be ready. Let’s go. Jax, you’re with me and Holly.”
I throw a look at Phantom, but he looks as confused as I feel.
Daisy is speaking to the hostess, who turns to us with a smile. “Great, you can all follow me.”
Phantom lowers one brow and shoots his daughter a look so severe that if he were my dad, I would have peed my pants. But Daisy practically skips in her white Chucks and orange sundress, following close behind the hostess.
“We weren’t sure how old you were, so we brought some stuff to do.” Holly opens a large messenger bag, but I can’t see what’s inside. “You’re not six, obviously, so you don’t have to color, but we have comics and our iPad. Do you play any games?”
The hostess sets three menus down on one table, and Holly points to a chair for Jax. Daisy waves to her dad with a grin. “Bye. Two tables, one bill. Don’t worry, Dad, we know you’re paying.”
I must have my mouth wide open because I suddenly feel the heat of Phantom’s hand hovering close to my lower back. “Your son going to be okay with this?”
I would check with Jax, but he’s not even paying attention to me. He’s deep in conversation with Daisy, his back to the adults like we’re not even there and, in a way, we’re not.
“He’ll let me know if he’s not,” I say, shaking my head, a grin climbing over my face.
Phantom pulls out the chair for me, and I step close to him to take my seat, breathing deeply as I pass him.
I take my seat and will myself to focus on the food and not the man. I grab my menu like it’s a room divider and hold it between us so I can collect myself. I scan the food and the prices, the drinks, and, again, the prices, my eyes blurring over the menu until everything runs together.
“Poppy?” Phantom’s voice breaks through my panic, and I peek at him over the top of my menu. “Everything okay? Would you feel more comfortable at the kids’ table? I swear I didn’t know about this.”
I look behind me to make sure Jax is okay, but he and Daisy are laughing like they are old friends, while Holly points at the menu and politely places her order with the waitress.
“I’m…” I don’t know what to say. I’m not fine. “I’m freaking out,” I admit. I drop the menu and meet Phantom’s piercing blue eyes. “I haven’t done anything like this since my husband died. I’m overwhelmed.”
All of a sudden, Phantom reaches a hand across the table and takes mine firmly. “Hey,” he says.
He doesn’t say more, just holds my hand in his. The heat of his skin melts me, the tingling and warmth making their way up my arm and through my body until I swear I feel my shoulders relax.
“I love this place. Come here a lot. No doubt it’s why that little asshole over there took some liberties with the hostess. You drink?” He releases my hand and gestures for the server to come by.
I don’t drink—not much anyway, but I just nod.
He orders two drinks by their name, and I have no idea what I’m in for, but I just want to sit back and enjoy this. I don’t think, in all the years I was with Michael, he ordered for me.
I breathe in deeply, enjoying the feeling of being taken care of. And I realize once he’s ordered that my hand is still stretched out across the table, waiting for Phantom to hold it. I yank it back and adjust the napkin on my lap, then nervously pick up the menu.
Phantom takes it from me and sets it down. “Allergies?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Anything you hate or love?”
I shake my head again, dazzling myself with my inability to form words.
He nods. “Holly picked up some food allergies as a kid. Nothing serious, but enough that I always think twice now before assuming. I’ll order, unless you saw anything that struck you.”
I sigh in relief. “That sounds perfect.”
I don’t know who this woman is. The woman who can’t order for herself off a menu.
Who wants a total stranger to hold her hand across the table and ease her nerves.
But something about Phantom makes me want to give control over to him.
It makes no sense. I’ve cut the hair of plenty of attractive guys in the salon.
I’ve been on a handful of dates over the years. But this man is powerful but gentle.
Phantom is a mystery. One that I can’t believe I’m not just falling deeper into, but I’m running toward at full speed.
The waitress returns with two drinks, and as soon as she sets them down, Phantom lifts his to toast.
“To the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen agreeing to have dinner with me.” Coming from anyone else, I might have rolled my eyes. Coming from Phantom, that line makes heat pool between my legs.
I lift my glass and toast with him, then take a long sip. “Ooh,” I say, the alcohol hitting me fast. “That goes down way too easy.”
“Let it,” he says. “Enjoy it.”
He takes a sip of his drink, then points to my ring finger. “That ink for your ex?”
I nod, then trace my finger over the faded heart that sits where my wedding band used to. “I actually got it after he died,” I explain. “Michael wasn’t a fan of tattoos, and I always wanted one. I figured after he died, he’d probably be okay if the one I got was sort of a tribute to him.”
“That ain’t a problem I ever had.” Phantom grins, shoving the sleeves of his black dress shirt up a little farther. “Probably got my first when I wasn’t much older than Holly.”
That shocks me. “Wow,” I say.
He nods. “My childhood was nothing like what I’m trying to give my girls.”
“I don’t know,” I say, taking another sip of my drink.
“I’m not giving Jax the life I dreamed of for him.
I try, but I’m tired.” I look him in the eye, suddenly not able to hold back.
“I’ve been a single mom for eight years, and I always told myself, it’ll get easier when he’s older, when he goes to school.
And Jax is a great kid, I mean, really great.
But doing it alone? It never gets easier. Only different.”
Phantom nods. “When you said you were a single mom, I assumed divorce. I’m sorry to hear his old man passed.”
“Thank you.”
The waitress returns. “Phantom, the girls ordered dessert with their dinner. I’ll bring it after they eat their meals, but I assume that’s okay with you?”
He nods. “As long as the boy’s mom says he can have dessert, it’s okay by me.”
The waitress looks to me. “Yes, of course,” I say. I can’t remember the last time I let Jax order dessert. But if I’m ever going to loosen up and live in the moment, this feels like the time to do it.