Chapter 35
A knock at my door.
A jolt of electricity.
Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this.
It’s a date. It’s a date with a guy. It’s a date with a guy I like. And he likes me too.
I pull the door open and find him standing there, looking as handsome as ever. “Hi.”
He smiles. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks. I think I tried on everything in my closet before I landed on this.” I glance down at the long, flowy skirt that
took me an hour to settle on. “It’s hard to plan for a night out when you don’t know where you’re going.”
“You chose well.” He gives me an approving nod. “But you’ll probably need a jacket.”
“Still not going to tell me what the plan is?”
“And ruin the surprise?” He pulls a face. “No way.”
I grab a jacket and my bag, then join him outside in the courtyard. Lorraine is sitting at one of the tables with two other
older women. When she sees us, she stands and rushes over. “Claire, congratulations on your big success today! You must be
so happy.”
I reach for her hands and squeeze them both in my own. “Thank you so much for everything, Lorraine. I know people showed up
because you told them to. And also because they wanted to meet you. Did I see you signing autographs?”
She chuckles a little. “Yes, for a sweet little thing named Ruby.”
“Right . . .” Miles puts a finger to his temple, searching the air like he’s trying to remember something. “You told her a man who makes you guess isn’t mysterious—”
“He’s immature!” Lorraine says, in unison with Miles. She laughs, then inches back. “Wait a minute. Are you two going on a
date?”
“We are,” Miles says.
She blows out a breath. “Well, it’s about time!” She turns back toward the table. “These are the two I told you about.” She
starts walking away. “I guess they finally figured it out—we don’t have to intervene after all.”
I look at Miles, and we both laugh. “She’s the best. I can’t believe how happy she was to help me.”
“That’s what she does,” he says. “When I moved in, I was kind of a wreck. She brought me dinner every single night after work.
I mean, she dished it up with a side of snark, but she’s a big part of the reason I survived all that.”
“I hate that you went through what you went through,” I say.
“I hate that you went through what you went through too.” He glances at me. “But isn’t it interesting that those disasters
led us both here?”
I smile at that, because a year ago, I couldn’t have imagined feeling happy again. And now I can’t imagine feeling sad. I
suppose that’s how life goes, though. It’s not all peaks and it’s not all valleys. Not all joy or sadness. It’s everything
all at once, sometimes in drips and sometimes in waves.
We reach the sidewalk, and I expect him to walk over to where his car is parked, but he turns in the opposite direction.
“We’re not driving?”
He pauses and looks at me. “You like to walk.”
“I do like to walk,” I mimic.
“Unless you’re too tired. It was a long day.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m good. It’s a really nice night.”
He stretches a hand in my direction, and after a beat, I take it, loving the way it feels wrapped around mine. John wasn’t a hand-holder. Not that I want to compare everything about Miles to John. He’s not John.
It’s nice.
The area around The Bexley is more familiar to me now, and even though I don’t know where we’re headed, I’m comfortable here.
And Miles makes me feel safe.
We walk in comfortable silence, catching snippets of conversation on the street as we pass by other people out for the night.
A group of guys talking about where to go next after a game. A couple, one trying to talk while the other seems to be in a
daze. We both stifle a laugh when an older woman on her phone says, “Well, did you try the Miralax? How long has it been stuck?”
as she passes by.
So many people with so many stories. We all share joy and elation and darkness and grief. That’s the human condition.
That’s what being alive is really about.
I checked out of it for a long time, but I’m glad to be back now. Because I’ve learned that I appreciate the highs so much
more because of the lows.
Just because I wouldn’t have chosen this outcome for my life doesn’t mean my life can’t become something beautiful.
Maybe it’s my mood. Things haven’t gone this right for me in years, and now everything feels bigger and brighter and more beautiful.
We stop at a red light, waiting to cross the street, and the pause pulls me from my thoughts. I glance over at Miles and find
him watching me.
“I have a confession to make,” he says.
“Miles, I’ve told you that’s a horrible way to—”
He laughs. “I know, I know, I’ll get better, I promise.”
I look at him expectantly.
“Well?”
“I might’ve texted Minnie and told her we were going out.”
“You did?” I ask, smiling.
“Yeah. I wanted some dirt.”
“Dirt? On me?”
“I’m a landscape architect,” he says dryly.
I make a face at him. “If we’re going to make this work, your jokes are going to have to get a lot better.”
He laughs.
“Not dirt, exactly. I needed some ideas,” he says. “She told me that for years you tried to get your ex to take you guys to Epcot so
you could ride some ride . . . ?”
“Soarin’ Around the World,” I say without hesitation. “Have you been?”
He shakes his head. “I haven’t. But I’ll go with you if you want to.”
I grin. “John hated everything Disney. The crowds. The heat. The prices. I love it because it makes me feel like a kid.” I
shrug. “I don’t think I felt like a kid even when I was a kid.”
“You’re an old soul,” he says.
I nod. “Why did Minnie tell you about my Disney obsession?” I laugh.
“Because of what we’re doing tonight,” he says.
“Well, the airport is in the opposite direction, so if we’ve got a flight to catch, we should probably get an Uber.”
He laughs. The light changes, and we cross the street.
“When you first decided to give the dating app a try, you mentioned that you wanted to explore the city,” he says.
“Right.”
“Touristy things and not-touristy things,” he says. “Which made it hard for me to choose. There are lots of things I want
to show you.” He glances at me sideways. “But if I have my way, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, so we can
go slow.”
My pulse races. Spending a lot of time together. I like the way it sounds.
I’m a little taken aback by how closely he seems to have paid attention to the silly little things I’ve said—mundane, seemingly pointless things.
Maybe this is how you fall in love. Maybe it’s not a big, grand gesture that sweeps you off your feet . . . maybe it’s the
little things that are going to be hanging around long after the zips and zaps are gone.
Like listening. Caring about someone’s dreams. Doing what you can to make them happy. I suspect I’ve been falling inches in
love with this man for quite some time.
Up ahead, I see one of Chicago’s most well-known attractions—the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier. I glance over at Miles as the
wind off the lake whips up, tousling his hair, leaving it disheveled and sexy.
I want to run my fingers through it. My heart flips at the thought, the memory of the way he kissed me as fresh as if it happened
only moments ago.
“Have you been here yet?” We slow down to allow for a crowd of teenagers to step in front of us on the sidewalk.
“No,” I say. “But I’ve wanted to.”
“Good,” he says. “There’s a lot to do here . . . Maybe we can bring the group back here next week after your successful grand
opening.”
I glance over at his profile, admiring the sparkle in his bright blue eyes. “There you go believing in me again.”
He shrugs at me as if to say, It’s easy.
“Are we riding the Ferris wheel?” I ask.
“We can if you want to,” he says. “But . . . I planned something else I think you’re going to love.” He points up, and I see
three screens on the outside of a building and a man standing behind a podium with the word “Flyover” on it.
Miles walks over to the podium and pulls out his phone so the guy can scan our tickets. Then we walk into what I think is
a ride.
I stare up at it and realize—it’s just like my favorite ride at Epcot.
The second he clocks my realization, he says, “I sent Minnie my list, and she helped me decide.”
“You have a list?” I ask. “Like, an actual list?”
He pulls out his phone, clicks a few buttons, then hands it to me. I’m looking at a note in his Notes app with a bulleted
list of places in and around the city under the heading “No Boring Date Ideas for Claire.”
“Full disclosure? I started the list when we were setting you up on app dates,” he says. “But I realized I was saving my favorite
ideas because I wanted to be the one to do these things with you.”
I press my lips into a concealed smile, then hand his phone back. “Good. Because I can’t imagine doing something this cool
with someone like Barry.”
He tucks the phone away. “Let’s never mention that guy again.”
“Deal.”
About twenty minutes later, we’re strapped into a ride by the shoulders. When it starts, we’re lifted up off the ground, our
feet dangling in the air to create the feeling of flying while we’re surrounded by a huge, wraparound movie screen playing
a video of an aerial view of Chicago.
I feel like Wendy on my way to Neverland as we dip through neighborhoods and swoop through skyscrapers, fully giving in to
the sensation of flying. The wind whips through my hair and as we fly over Lake Michigan. I even feel a mist on my face.
Every single second is a multisensory experience that shows me my new city from a completely different view.
There’s something about feeling weightless that’s equal parts exciting and peaceful, and as I listen to the narration, I decide
I definitely need to get a Chicago-style hot dog, go to a Cubs game, see the river turn green on St. Patrick’s Day, and visit
every single museum in the city.
It’s exhilarating, and it takes my breath away.