Chapter Seven
Trish
"Girl, who was that?"
My co-worker Misty is at the scene of every crime.
She always has the gossip, and she's constantly spreading it.
I want nothing more than to get out of this situation without speaking to her, but I know if I refuse to answer her, she'll find some other way to get the answer.
At least if I'm the one she gets the information from, it might be accurate.
"Mark, he works with my brother."
She rolls her eyes as we head back in. "Yeah, we all saw that, I'm wondering who he is to you."
That's a hard question to answer. Before the last few days I would've said he was my brother's friend, but that's changing.
He's becoming one of the reasons that I smile every day.
Admitting that to myself is scary. I never wanted my happiness to count on someone else, but at the same time I recognize this man does make me happy.
"He's a friend," I end up saying, knowing that the word doesn't encompass all that this man is coming to mean to me.
"I wish I had a friend like that," she mumbles as she heads back to her office.
Today I'm helping with vehicle registration renewals and the line that had gone outside once we heard the screech of tires and the sirens has lined back up.
It's almost the end of the month, so it's more busy than normal, and I'm thankful that I have something to concentrate on that isn't the way his kiss in front of everyone made me feel.
Logging back on to the system, I hold up my hand. "I can help the next person over here."
"Mom, are you dating Mark?"
I'm not prepared for that question from my daughter later on that night as I'm making dinner. "Where did that come from?"
"I heard Uncle Gunner and Aunt Amy talking about it. One of my friends' moms dated someone, and they turned into their new daddy. Is Mark going to be my new daddy?"
Oh holy shit. I'm wholly unprepared for all of this. "Cora..." I start, not sure what to say. "He's my friend." That seems to be the easiest way to describe it.
"Does that mean he can be my friend too?"
"Yes," I answer quickly. "He would love to be your friend. Would you like to meet him?"
She nods with her entire body. We've been together with him in different situations, but they've never officially met one another. "He's really cute."
"He is, isn't he?" I wrinkle my nose as I look down at her.
I realize I need to be completely honest with her.
It's been just us for most of her life, even though Derek and I were married.
She was most of the time, an afterthought for her father.
"Cora, what would you think if I do date Mark?
He's my friend, but that doesn't mean that we won't at some point.
" I'm not exactly fibbing to her, there's nothing official yet.
She looks at me with eyes that are so much like mine it's like looking into a mirror. Tilting her head to the side, her look gets pensive. "You smile a lot more in the past week. I like that."
Then she scrambles into the living room, and has a seat in front of the TV. Leave it to my daughter to cut through all the bullshit, and make it as simple as it could be.
A few hours later, I've taken my shower, put Cora to be, and I'm contemplating whether or not I should text Mark. He's still got time left on his shift, but if he's asleep I don't want to bother him.
I pick up my phone and set it back down twice before I finally call myself a coward and just fucking text the man.
Me: You still up?
The response comes back faster than I expect.
Mark: Yeah. Quiet night so far. Probably shouldn’t say that…lol! You okay?
Me: I'm good. Just couldn't sleep.
Mark: Liar. You're thinking about me.
I laugh out loud in the dark of my bedroom, then immediately feel ridiculous about it. But no one is here to see me, and I’m really surprised that he knew.
Me: You are so full of yourself.
Mark: Am I wrong?
I stare at the ceiling for a second, thinking of all the ways this could go sideways. How many people could get hurt if I give him my heart, and this doesn’t work out.
Me: No.
Mark: I knew it. Tell me what you're thinking about.
Me: Actually, something happened tonight that I wanted to tell you about.
Mark: Good something or bad something?
Me: It’s an interesting something, I’m not sure yet whether it’s good or bad. Cora asked me if we were dating.
There's a pause. Longer than his usual response time, and I feel the familiar pull of anxiety in my chest before his reply comes through.
Mark: What did you tell her?
Me: I told her you were my friend. She accepted that a lot more easily than I expected.
Mark: Smart kid.
Me: She really is.
I hesitate, then keep going, because I've already started and there's no graceful way to stop now.
Me: She also said she wants to meet you. Officially.
Another pause. I'm getting better at reading what those pauses might mean. This one doesn't feel like hesitation, it feels like he's choosing his words carefully, and I respect that.
Mark: I want that too. Whenever you're ready for it. No pressure at all. When she wants it, and it’s okay for you, we’ll make sure it happens.
I read it twice, and then one more time.
This man is going to be the death of me.
The way he constantly worries about my daughter, and me.
I’m not used to it, but I love it. I hate comparing the two of them, but he’s blowing my marriage to Derek out of the water.
Derek never waited for anything. He always had somewhere else to be, and something that was way more important than us.
Me: She also said you were cute, for the record.
Mark: Cora has excellent taste. I've always said so.
Me: LMAO! You've never met her.
Mark: And yet I stand by it. That girl knows what the fuck she’s talking about.
I'm smiling at my phone like a teenager, tucked under my covers in the dark, and I cannot bring myself to feel embarrassed about it. This is what happy feels like. I didn’t recognize it at first because I'd almost forgotten.
Me: She said something else.
Mark: Tell me everything. I have a few more hours to kill, and I love talking to you.
Me: She said I've been smiling a lot more this past week. That she likes it.
This pause is the longest yet. I watch the three dots appear and disappear twice before his message finally comes through. It makes me nervous. Did he type something and then erase it, before typing again? My heart flutters in my chest.
Mark: That might be the best thing anyone's ever told me.
I smile so wide that my cheeks hurt, and the flutters are alive and well. I forgot how these felt, and I never want to forget that again.
Me: Don't let it go to your head. It's already big enough as is.
Mark: Ouch. You’re fuckin’ ruthless.
Me: You can handle it.
Mark: For you? I definitely can.
I put the phone down on my chest and stare at the ceiling for a moment.
Outside my window the neighborhood is completely still.
It’s that time of night when everything goes to sleep and only the people who can’t sleep or are night owls are still awake.
In the next room, Cora is passed out cold.
She goes and goes until she can’t go anymore, and she has to go to sleep, otherwise no one wants to be around her.
I pick the phone back up.
Me: Can I ask you something?
Mark: Anything. Whatever you want to know. There are no secrets here, Trish.
Me: Why are you being so patient with me?
I send it before I can overthink it, even though part of me wants to immediately take it back. It's too honest. Too much like admitting that I've been watching for the catch, waiting for the moment he decides I'm more complicated than I'm worth.
Mark: Because you're worth being patient for.
I’m not sure how to answer that, even though it feels better than almost anything else anyone has ever said to me, when another text comes through.
Mark: And because I've heard what it looks like when someone isn't patient with you. I'm not interested in being that.
I don't know what to say to that. I'm not sure there are words for it, actually, so I don't try to find any.
Me: Gunner has a big mouth.
Mark: He loves you. Can't fault him for that.
Me: No, I can't.
But I hate that he has to love me this way. He has to know what it’s like.
Mark: For what it's worth, everything he told me just made me want to kick Derek’s ass. Not run from you and Cora.
There it is. Right there in a text message at twelve-thirty in the morning, the thing I didn't know I needed to hear. I press my lips together and blink at the ceiling until the stinging behind my eyes goes away.
Me: You're making it very hard to keep things casual, you know that?
Mark: Perfect. I’m glad to hear it. Casual was never what I was going for.
Me: What were you going for?
Mark: Time together, for starters. The rest we figure out as we go.
I laugh softly, relieved that this doesn’t feel as serious as the rest of it has. My hands are shaking as I continue to text him, but not in a bad way.
Me: I’d love to have dinner with you again. I’m still thinking about that lasagna.
Mark: I’m mentally planning the next menu already.
Me: You’re so cute. There's a menu?
Mark: There's always a menu, Trish. I take this very seriously.
Me: A man who cooks and takes it seriously. Cora's right. You are cute.
Mark: Tell her I said thank you. Tell her I'm also funny and humble. I’m sexy, too. Just not all the time.
Me: I'll tell her you're funny. I'm not going to lie to my child about the humble part.
Mark: That’s truly devastating, Trish.
Me: LOL! I’m sure you'll recover.
Mark: Only because I know you're smiling right now.
The little shit. He’s right, I am. Hopelessly, completely smiling in the dark at a man I haven't even had a real date with yet. The tightness I’ve held in my chest for years starts to let go, and I realize this is how other people live their lives.
They aren’t always walking on egg shells, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
This is what it really is like to be in a relationship with someone, even if we haven’t put a title on it.
Me: Maybe a little.
Mark: I'll take it. You should sleep. Some of us have to be functional human beings tomorrow.
Me: Some of us?
Mark: You. I'm running on stubbornness and bad coffee.
Me: That’s a very attractive combination.
Mark: Right? I don't know why it took you this long to notice me.
Me: Goodnight, Mark.
Mark: Goodnight, Trish. I…
The message cuts off. I watch the three dots appear and then stop, and then a completely different message comes through.
Mark: Alarm went off. It’s a house fire, and I gotta go.
And just like that, the warmth in my chest goes cold.
I know this. I know what it means to have a brother who does this job.
I've spent years watching the wives of Gunner’s friends navigate the anxiety of loving a firefighter.
Because of Gunner, I constantly told myself that I understood it.
But I realize something right now. Sitting here in the dark with my phone in my hands and my heart somewhere up near my throat, I'm understanding it differently now. I’m terrified in a way I’ve never been scared before.
Me: Be safe.
I send it and then set the phone on my nightstand with the screen facing up. I don't let myself pick it back up. He needs to focus and I need to let him, and the very best thing I can do right now is exactly nothing.
But I lie there in the dark for a long time, watching the ceiling, thinking about what could be happening while he’s working that house fire. It takes a long time before I finally sleep.
And when my phone buzzes on the nightstand sometime around four in the morning, I'm awake before the second vibration.
Mark: All good. Everyone got out safe, and none of us got hurt. I'm going to try to get some sleep before sunrise.
I exhale, able to breath easy for the first time since he told me he had to go out on that call.
Me: Sleep good, Mark.
Mark: Yes ma'am.
I put the phone back down, roll onto my side, and close my eyes. This time sleep comes easy, and I admit to myself that I care a lot more about Mark than I allowed myself to realize.