5. Hadley
Hadley
I’m folding laundry when I hear my phone ding in the bedroom. I glance at the clock. Eight a.m. Who on earth is texting me? Paige is still asleep, I’m sure. She’s never awake before eleven on a weekend.
I set down the towel I just folded and pad into my room to grab my phone. When I open the screen, there’s a text from Bryce.
My insides melt like gooey chocolate fondue. Which is… concerning.
It was one conversation. One.
I don’t melt over men. Especially one I just met and barely know.
Except that’s exactly what I’m doing.
I didn’t expect to hear from him again so soon, let alone first thing in the morning. I click open his message and grin.
Bryce: Good morning. I hope you slept well. I know you said you had some things to do today, but I couldn’t resist sending you a message to thank you again. I did look at the books last night. They’re perfect.
I giggle. Out loud. In my apartment. By myself.
I knew he didn’t even look at those books!
Hadley: Good morning. I did, thank you. I’m glad you approve of the books. Which one is your favorite?
I roll my eyes at myself. I’m sure he didn’t choose a favorite. Awkward Hadley strikes again. I stare at the screen like it might judge me for how long it took to come up with that.
I should’ve just said something normal, but apparently, I’m incapable of that.
I see the dots appear that signal he’s typing, and I make my way out to the living room. I settle into the couch and pull my favorite blanket over my legs. The laundry can wait a while. It’s just towels. It’s not like it’s going to wrinkle or anything. And who cares if it does?
My phone dings again.
Bryce: I really enjoyed the book about the boy who lived with the dinosaurs. Action, adventure, dinos… What more could a little boy want? You have great taste.
I laugh.
Hadley: I have no idea, but that one is popular at the library, so I figured it would be a safe pick.
I tuck my feet under my legs and pull the blanket tighter around my lap.
Bryce: So, you’re a librarian. What’s your favorite book? I’m sure you have one.
I smile and my thumbs fly over the screen.
Hadley: I can’t choose just one. That’s like asking a parent who their favorite child is or something.
It doesn’t take long before another message comes through.
Bryce: LOL My sister would say there are no favorites, but that’s just because I’m the favorite. *winking emoji*
I snort.
Hadley: Let me guess, you’re the oldest?
Bryce: You guessed it. What about you? Siblings? And don’t think I forgot you never answered my book question. *smiley face emoji*
I bite my lip. What’s a book I like that he would know? Does he read? Finally, I decide to go with my canned librarian answer.
Hadley: Pride and Prejudice. One sister. I’m the youngest. What about you? Do you have a favorite book?
My eyes slide to the pile of unfolded towels on the other end of the couch.
Usually, I wouldn’t stop to talk until I completed the task I was working on first. Multitasking is for work, not home.
Which, I suppose, is why I’m sitting here holding my phone in my hand when another message comes through.
Bryce: Lord of the Rings. It’s classic, plus the movies are amazing.
He reads! Actual novels, not just work stuff. I can’t help the little squeal that escapes from my mouth. A man who reads. Because he wants to. For pleasure.
I don’t even know why that feels like such a rare thing, but it does.
And I like it.
Probably more than I should.
Hadley: The movies were okay, but the books were definitely better.
Bryce: They usually are, right? What are your plans for the day? I think you mentioned being busy?
I glance at the clock again. Technically, I could ask him to meet me for lunch and then leave for my niece’s recital, but that feels too forward.
Hadley: Yeah, my nieces have their dance recital today. I still have to wrap their books and finish laundry. What about you?
I chew on my thumb nail while I wait for his response.
Bryce: Just some work stuff. Which, actually, I’ve got to run and get ready to go. Can I text you again later?
I stare at the message longer than I probably should.
Later. Not goodbye. Not a polite fade-out. Later. Like he’s interested in more than polite conversation with the librarian who helped him out. Like he might be interested in me.
He’s making plans to talk again. Not just assuming I’ll be around when he makes time. That’s… Wow.
Okay.
I smile before I can stop myself.
Hadley: Yeah. I’d like that.
I hit send and set my phone down on the couch beside me. Then I pick it right back up again. Just in case.
The rest of the morning, I feel like I’m floating on a cloud while I finish the laundry, including the abandoned towels from the couch. I wrap the girls' books and get ready for the recital.
By the time I’m walking to the car, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
I keep re-reading the text conversation with Bryce.
Each time, my heart flutters in my chest like a school girl with her first crush.
It’s weird and uncomfortable. He’s only in town for business.
I need to remember that before my heart does something stupid like get attached to him.
The drive to the auditorium is longer than I anticipated. Traffic was terrible, which means I’m running into the auditorium just as they’re asking everyone to take their seats.
“Glad you could make it,” Mom says, giving me a quick hug. “I was starting to worry something had happened to you.”
I take a deep breath and smooth out my skirt. “I’m fine. Traffic was bad, but I’m here.”
“Glad you’re here, sweet girl,” Dad says, leaning in and placing a kiss on my cheek. “I tried to tell her you were fine, but you know your Mom.” He winks at me and places his hand on the small of Mom’s back, guiding her to our seats.
Two hours later, I’m relieved when the lights are on and the little dancers have taken their final bows. I adore my nieces, and love to see them perform, but my goodness the music is always so loud and those seats… Let’s just say that they aren’t built for adult behinds.
“Aunty Hadley, did you see me?” Eloise asks, twirling around in front of me.
“I did,” I say, kneeling down and pulling her in for a hug. “I’m so impressed! You danced beautifully!”
“Daddy said I was like a princess,” Clara adds.
I nod my head and pull her in for a hug of her own. “You were. You both were like beautiful princesses up on stage.”
They giggle and the sound warms my heart.
“Here,” I say, pulling their gift bags from my tote. “These are for you.”
I hand each of them a bag—pink for Clara and purple for Eloise—and stand back up while they open them.
“Thank you, Aunt Hadley,” they say, almost in unison holding up their flowers and stuffed bears. I’d slipped the tutus on them before stuffing them in the bags with their books.
“You’re welcome.” They each pull the book from their bag and spend the next few minutes flipping through the pages while my sister talks to the dance teacher, who has made her way over to compliment the girls.
When the teacher leaves, Evy insists on family photos. I stand where I’m told and smile for the three thousand pictures my sister and mom insist on taking. Once they seem satisfied, Arthur announces their plan to go to IHOP for princess pancakes.
“I think I’ll pass. I still have to drive home, and tomorrow is a workday,” I say, giving each girl one last hug.
Mom sighs. That kind of deep sigh that seems to come with the motherhood package.
The one that lets you know you’ve disappointed her without even saying a word.
Mom should win an award for hers. It’s truly an art form at this point in my life.
And the Moscar goes too… I nearly snort. Moscar—Mom plus Oscar.
“You know,” she starts, and I brace myself for the guilt trip I’m about to go on. Should have packed earplugs. “You wouldn’t have to leave so soon if you lived closer.”
I manage to avoid rolling my eyes… barely. “Yes, Mom, but then I wouldn’t be able to work in the library.”
“You could,” Mom grumbles. “You could commute. People do it all the time.”
“Okay, Kit Cat,” Dad says, putting his arm around Mom’s shoulders. “Let’s leave the poor girl alone. She’s an adult. She’s free to live wherever makes her happy.”
“Thanks Dad,” I say, kissing him on the cheek.
“Drive safe.”
“Text me when you get home,” Mom adds.
“I will.” As I walk to my car, I can’t help but think that I want a love like that one day. One with nicknames and affection. I used to think it was gross that Dad called Mom his Kit Cat. I didn’t understand why he didn’t call her Catherine like everyone else. Now though… Now I get it.
I dig my phone out of my tote and swipe to open the screen. My heart races when I see another text waiting from Bryce. Calm down, Hadley. It’s a text, not a proposal.
I click the notification.
Bryce: I hope the girls had a great recital and you made it home safely.
Wow, the last three guys I dated never even messaged to see if I made it home okay after an evening with my family. I don’t know if I should be impressed, or retroactively angry with the losers that I went out with.
I’m going with impressed.
A honk startles me and makes me drop my phone into my lap. I glance around and see my Dad’s truck waiting behind my car. I roll the window down.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yep, just picking the best route home.”
“Okay,” he says. “Drive safe, hun.”
He rolls up his window and pulls forward, waiting at the entrance of the parking lot to make sure I pull out of my space.
Bryce will have to wait.
“So,” Paige says Tuesday evening, pulling open the door to Fan Gear, the local sportswear shop. “We need sweaters, shirts, hats, foam fingers, flags. What else?” She asks me like I’m supposed to know what kinds of things someone needs for a sporting event.
“The closest thing to a sport I’ve ever watched is ballet,” I respond. “We dressed up for that. You know, dresses, heels, makeup…”