22. Coraline
22
Coraline
Five years ago
I reapply my lipstick and fluff my hair. Tonight is the first time that I’ve been on a date since Harrison was born. My grandparents drove all the way from Scottsdale to stay at my apartment for the evening and watch him.
I’m wearing a tight, red dress that hugs all of my curves. I curled my hair in loose waves and went all out with my makeup. I did a smoky eye look with a touch of glitter and I even put on false lashes. I haven’t worn false lashes since my high school prom. It feels like stepping into a different version of myself, one I almost forgot existed.
A loud honk echoes from the driveway, interrupting my thoughts.
“That must be him!” I exclaim, grabbing my purse. It feels nice to leave the house without a diaper bag for once. “Thank you guys so much for coming so I could go out tonight. I really do appreciate it.”
Pappy raises an eyebrow. “How do you know that’s him? Is he not going to come to the door and say hello?”
I stifle a laugh and roll my eyes. “He texted me a few minutes ago and said he was almost here and I know that that's his car.”
Pappy shakes his head. “Hmph. In my day, a man came to the door and walked his woman out to the car and opened doors for her.”
“Yeah, well,” I say with a grin, “welcome to the twenty-first century, Pappy.”
I give both of my grandparents a hug and kiss Harrison on the cheek. “I love you baby. I will see you later.”
“Bye bye, Mama!” Harrison waves at me until I shut the door.
I walk down the steps of my apartment building and approach Nash’s car with my heart beating loudly in my chest. I reach for the handle and go to open the door but realize it's still locked.
I peer in the window and notice that he's glued to his phone. I lightly tap on the glass, trying not to startle him.
He glances up, sees me, and hits the unlock button once. The front passenger door is still locked. It only unlocked his door.
I knock again, this time a little harder, and point to the passenger-side lock. With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he hits the button again, finally unlocking the door for me.
I met Nash a few weeks ago during a six a.m. coffee run. I was stopping at a gas station to get a little pre-shift caffeine and he was in line behind me.
He struck up a conversation and mentioned that he was headed to work at the local coal plant. Then he complimented my scrub top—my favorite one with little dogs on it. That earned him some instant brownie points. I’ve always had a soft spot for anyone who loves animals.
I told him I was gearing up for shift one of three at the local hospital and that I’d be graduating from nursing school at the end of the month. He congratulated me with a charming smile and asked for my number before I left.
We talked on and off for a few weeks and I made sure to tell him that I was a single mom. He told me that he didn’t see any problem with that at all. He even commended me for being such a hard working mother. Two days ago, he finally asked me out on a real date.
“Sorry about that. I was checking on something,” he mutters, barely glancing up.
“Oh, that’s no problem,” I reply with a nervous laugh while tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“You look really pretty,” he said, leaning over to kiss my cheek. The gesture caught me off guard.
Before I could respond, he reached into the back seat. “I got these for you.”
He hands me a bouquet of red roses.
“Thank you! That’s so thoughtful.” My face warms as I smile down at the roses. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” I add, trying to flirt back as casually as I can manage. I feel so out of place and awkward.
Nash gives a small smirk but doesn’t say anything. He's about five foot eight with blond hair, has a well-groomed beard, and has the warmest brown eyes that I've ever seen.
He’s wearing a salmon pink polo shirt and khaki shorts, and he smells amazing—like he splurged on one of those expensive colognes that they advertise in TV commercials.
He takes my hand in his and then pulls out of the driveway. My heart starts to beat like crazy again. I’ve never held anyone's hand that wasn’t Jesse and it feels really nice.
Nash wanted to keep the destination of our date a surprise so I don't know where he’s taking me. I don't really think I care where we go because I’ve been so excited for this date.
After about twenty minutes, we pull into a parking lot. “Alright, we’re here. Are you ready, beautiful?”
“Yes! Let’s go,” I say enthusiastically, my voice a little too eager.
I start to pull my hand away, but he stops me. He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the top of it. Then he looks up at me with those warm brown eyes and gives me a small, almost shy smile.
My cheeks heat and my stomach dips with anticipation.
He gets out of the car first, and I wait—half-expecting, half-hoping—for him to come around and open my door. But after a few long seconds, it becomes clear he’s not going to.
I look out the window at him and notice that he's on his phone again. I roll my eyes, grab my purse, and step out of the car on my own.
When I reach his side again, he casually slips an arm around me, like we've been together forever.
“So, where are we?” I ask, trying to get his attention again.
“We are at the coolest bar in town. This is the best place to go and hang out. Have you been here before?” He asks enthusiastically.
I immediately start to break out into a nervous sweat. “No, I uh, I have not.”
I don't want to upset him by letting him know that this was probably the worst place to take me. I don’t drink alcohol and I’ve never been inside of a bar before. If my grandparents find out that they drove three to four hours for me to drink at a bar with a man that I barely know, they will be so disappointed in me.
I roll over in bed and stretch, letting out a sigh. The sun is just beginning to filter through the curtains. I slept great last night.
I start to sit up and my foot brushes against something.
I freeze and my heart stutters in my chest.
I jerk upright, swallowing a scream as my eyes dart around the unfamiliar room.
Oh no.
Memories crash into me all at once—blurry flashes of the bar, the drinks, Nash’s hand in mine, and then… this. I must have spent the night with him but I don't really remember.
Panic tightens in my chest. I had no intention of staying out all night. I was supposed to head back to my apartment after the date.
I clutch the sheets, nausea creeping in. I’ve never spent a night away from Harrison. Not once. He sleeps with me every single night. What if he woke up and noticed that I wasn’t there? What if he’s scared and looking for me?
I need to go. Now.
I quietly put on my clothes and shoes, and I take a peak at Nash to make sure he’s still asleep. Thankfully he is. I close the door and make a run for it.
I walk into the hallway of the building and pull out my phone. My gut clenches in dread. I have multiple missed calls and text messages from my grandparents.
I call for an Uber to my location. I don’t even know where I’m at or how far from home I am.How did I get myself into this situation again? Am I that desperate?
I feel so much shame and guilt when I step into the elevator in the same dress from last night. I have never in my entire life done something so reckless.
As exhilarating as it was, I just want to go home to my baby. I can never let that happen again.