Chapter 5 #2
The sign at the door said DOORBELL brOKEN YELL DING DONG. They had fixed the doorbell, but Marissa would never take down the sign; she laughed every time she saw it.
I knocked softly.
“Come in!” Marissa hollered from somewhere inside.
I opened the old wooden door and was met by London, their golden retriever. She wagged her tail in excitement as I rubbed behind her ears. “Hey girl!”
She eagerly licked my extended hand, hoping for a secret treat.
I squatted down as I reached for the treat in my pocket.
Her brown eyes shone as her tail picked up speed.
I held out the little cookie bone. “Here you go.” I was never allowed pets growing up, and I couldn’t wait until I had my own place.
I would have to be careful, or I would eagerly take in every animal I saw.
London took the cookie and rushed into the kitchen.
I walked through the foyer into a small kitchen with mismatched cupboards and faded yellow wallpaper.
Marissa was in her usual 80’s band T-shirt and jeans; her jean jacket was hanging on the hook behind her.
It was threadbare and sported a few patches now.
Her cellphone was pressed against her ear and a planner was in her hand.
Scott really had changed her. Maybe changed was the wrong word.
He made her feel safe and able to explore who she was. She used to run from anything that resembled planning, and now look at her.
I walked to the freezer and grabbed the three little cartons of ice cream.
Marissa nodded and took down a few notes. “Yes, that weekend is available for both a wedding ceremony and reception.”
I set down the ice cream and grabbed spoons.
“Yep, I put you on the calendar. Thanks so much for thinking of us.”
London came back over to me and barked.
“Shhh, London.” I had brought only one treat, and she was obviously ready for another.
“All right. Yep. We will be in touch.” Marissa hung up and smiled at me. “That’s going to be our third wedding next year.”
“That’s great!”
She sighed and plopped down in the chair next to me as I passed her the Chunky Monkey ice cream.
Rose threw open the door. “Don’t start without me!”
Rose’s heeled boots clicked against the aged wooden floors as she made her way to the kitchen. London greeted her with kisses and a wagging tail. Rose hated animals, and I think London could sense it and was determined to change her mind. She raised up and put her paws on her black shirt.
“London! Down,” Marissa called.
London dropped to the ground but licked Rose’s hand on the way.
“Ugh! Sick!” She wiped her hands off on her pants. “Go away, London.” She threw her hands out. London doubled her loving efforts, jumping up on Rose again.
Marissa stood and grabbed London’s purple collar and took her over to the kennel.
“Where is Scott?” I opened my ice cream. He usually wasn’t far from wherever Marissa was.
“He’s in Clifton, helping his parents with some stuff with their house. He will be back tonight though.”
Rose brushed any stray hairs that might have landed on her black pants, washed her hands, and then sat at the table.
“Okay.” Marissa smiled. “Let’s unpack this Coach Peters situation.”
“It’s Adam, apparently.” I put my head in my hands.
“Ohhhh!” Both girls squealed in unison, then we all giggled.
I dug my spoon into the soft texture and took a bite. The cold sugar coated my tongue and worries. The best things in life are usually packed with sugar. My five-foot-nothing frame had some things not going for it, but a fast metabolism was a point in my favor.
My phone rang, and I silenced it without looking. It was probably spam. I didn’t allow myself to wonder if it was Mom. I had broken down and answered an unknown number over Thanksgiving break only to hear about my car warranty that didn’t exist.
Rose raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Okay, which first, mommy issues or hot daddy issues?”
I rolled my eyes. The girls knew I had a complicated relationship with my parents, namely my mother, and that she was beyond disappointed when I became a teacher and left the life that was set up for me.
I told Rose that Mom had gotten my number recently and I was trying to ignore her. I still listened to her passive aggressive voicemails, even though I should have deleted them.
I shouldn’t keep my past from Rose and Marissa, but my past was complicated, and honestly, I wanted to start over, without carrying it around with me.
“There is not enough ice cream in this town to talk about mommy issues. Let’s stick to Adam.” I took another bite.
“So why does he want to volunteer?” Rose took a large bite. “Does he feel bad or something?” The frigid ice cream made her mouth pronounce the words as if she had a cold.
“He says Danny loves the fair and wants to be involved in something he enjoys, and yes, he apologized for how he acted in the meeting, even though I’m as much to blame.”
“Awww…I love that.” Marissa said.
“I bet he is a great kisser, and he could definitely lift you off your feet with those biceps.” Rose wiggled her eyebrows.
The image instantly played in my mind, and I enjoyed the daydream more than I should have. “Rose! Not helping. And not interested.” My cheeks heated. Okay, maybe some interested.
Rose pointed her spoon at me. “Umm, girl, everyone with a pulse is interested.”
“I’m not.” Marissa fluttered her fingers in the air, showing off her wedding ring.
“Is Scott already forgiven for the cookies then?” I asked, with a raised brow.
She was so happy she practically glowed.
It was inspiring the way she adored her husband, and he obviously returned the sentiment.
I wondered if my parents had ever been that way.
It seemed more like they sprouted from an ancient business transaction rather than anything resembling affection.
They often slept in different rooms and barely seemed to acknowledge each other’s existence.
“Well, he bought them, and I ate four of the six, so…” She shrugged.
I chuckled. “Fair.”
“But, back to Adam.” Marissa raised her eyebrows.
I set down my spoon inside the lid. “Admittedly, he is gorgeous. But he also seems very extroverted.” I shuddered. “Besides, everyone has said he isn’t interested in dating.” I shrugged. “Not that I have thought about dating him or anything.” My cheeks heated.
“Riiight.” Rose quirked an eyebrow.
Marissa lifted her spoon in the air. “People saying they aren’t dating isn’t always the barrier you think it would be.” She gestured around the room, grinned, and scooped another bite.
“Facts.” Rose pointed her long acrylic nails at Marissa.
I shook my head. “True, but Scott didn’t stand a chance of not dating you. This is me we’re talking about.”
Marissa rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Faith, you’re too hard on yourself. You’re gorgeous and kind, and anyone would be lucky to date you.”
I was short, which in the fashion world was basically a sin, plus I hadn’t always been kind, so there was at least a piece of me that was ugly and mean.
“I think Jessica has already called dibs on dating him anyway.” I looked up at the ceiling. “The way she is always talking about him, it’s obvious she is crazy about him.”
“You can’t call dibs on a person. They get to make their own choices.” Rose gave me a flat look.
“None of this matters anyway. He isn’t asking to date me, just to volunteer.” I held my hands up.
“We’ll see.” Rose gave a wicked grin.
Marissa shrugged. “Regardless, you will do anything for those kids, and like it or not, you need help, and Adam has offered.”
“True.” I scooped another bite, holding it in my mouth as it melted.
“Looks like you’re stuck.” Rose raised her eyebrows.
I leaned back and blew out a small breath.
We all knew I would put myself through a lot for my students’ happiness. Including accepting help from the hot and outgoing Adam Peters.
“So, maybe the question is how do I get over my crippling anxiety about it? I can barely form sentences around him, and I still need to apologize.” I would need to learn how to hold a conversation with him, and fast.
“Oh, I know!!” Rose clapped her hands. “Don’t they say that to get over your nerves you picture the other person in their underwear?” Rose bit her bottom lip and wiggled her eyebrows.
Heat rushed to my face, and I put my head on the table before Rose could comment on my blush.
“Oh, my gosh! ROSE, not helping!” I groaned.