Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Sunday morning Jane called, asking me to go shopping.
“You hate shopping.”
She sighed and I could feel the heaviness in her voice. “Finn and I broke up. I just want a distraction.”
“Uh, wait…” I thought things were going better. “I’m so sorry.” Finn obviously was stupid. When people didn’t choose the real me I could understand, but someone not wanting Jane—that was straight-up crazy.
I heard her voice catch through the phone. “He was so great at first, but he never made time to be with me. It was always one excuse or another. Half the time I felt like he pretended he didn’t even know me. I figured if he wanted to be together he would put time in.”
I sighed.
Wow.
“Jane, I am so sorry.”
If Finn wasn’t willing to sacrifice time to be with Jane, what was the chance that Grant would do the same in the long run? I shook my head. I needed to focus on Jane right now .
“I think they have the farmer’s market starting up on the Grove?” I sat up in bed and ran a hand through my hair. “Give me thirty and I will be ready.”
Jane agreed. “Maybe I will go for a run and just meet you at your house, then.”
I was dying to tell Jane all about Grant and how he’d kissed me and said I was beautiful, but this wasn’t the right time.
Jane would shop with me, but it wasn’t what she really wanted to do. I sighed. “Do you want me to run with you?” I could barely hold back the terror in my voice.
There was a pause. “What?”
“Look, I don’t want to run, but if you want me with you, I will gasp for air like a dying fish behind you as you tell me all the ways Finn is a jerk.”
“You would run with me?” Jane cheered.
“Well, I will be running,” I shook my head. “You would probably be walking. Just to give proper expectations.”
Jane chuckled. “Aw, Em, what would I do without you?”
“For starters, run a lot faster.” I added.
She laughed. “Grab your shoes! We’re going running!”
Was it wrong to hope she pulled a muscle on her way to my house?
Three days later, as I shifted my swollen and bruised ankle on the coffee table, the bag of ice fell to the floor.
Drat! I rotated to grab the bag while keeping my ankle elevated.
“I got it.” Grant leaned forward on the couch and picked up the bag of ice, setting it on top of my ankle.
“As if me being chased by a goose wasn’t punishment enough.” I resituated on the couch, trying to ease the throbbing. “Those birds are scary. How long is this going to take?”
Grant fluffed the pillow behind me. “It happened only a few days ago. Give it a week and you will be good as new.” He leaned forward and kissed the top of my forehead. “I wouldn’t run on it for a bit longer, though.”
“You say that like I plan on running ever again.” I rolled my eyes as I readjusted the pillow at my side.
Grant raised his shoulder. “Whether you run is up to you. But take it easy in case you have a…what did you call it? Major mental relapse from kissing me.” He chuckled as he brushed his thumb along my bottom lip and leaned down and pressed his lips softly to mine.
This still felt like a dream too good to be true, and I didn’t want this dream to end.
“I don’t plan to stop kissing you.” His lips curved into a smile as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine again. “So at this rate you might be signing up for marathons.”
“Not funny!” I leaned back and chucked a pillow at him. “Running is stupid.”
He chuckled and put his arm along the back of the couch. “Well, it looks like that walk on the Greenbelt is going to have to wait.”
I leaned into his chest and felt his warmth seep through my sweater. “Sorry, it sounded great.”
He shrugged. “We can go later, once you are better.”
I felt his chest expand as he yawned. He had started working late after he left my apartment a few times this week, and I was positive he wasn’t getting the doctor-recommended number of hours of sleep. That, plus the contractors and collectors were constantly calling. I was worried for him.
His fingers were firm yet gentle as they rubbed my scalp and played with my hair. Later . He was planning on a later with me. I wondered how much later? I loved every minute we spent together, but a part of me was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
There would be something.
Another girl.
Work taking all his focus.
He would change his mind about me.
It could be a million things, but each one led to heartbreak.
I rubbed the smooth button of his blue button-up shirt. He had another Kismet event tonight in a few hours, but he came to sit with me until it started.
Somehow without me noticing, and without my permission, Grant had become the person I talked to before I fell asleep and the first one I texted in the morning.
How had this man already made such an imprint on my heart when we had been together for only six days? He had shown me how it felt to be appreciated for who I was. The cuddles and make-outs were not bad either.
Grant shifted under me, causing me to look at his face. “Hey, are you okay? Does your ankle hurt?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, I was just thinking about how it’s crazy I haven’t known you that long.”
He kissed my forehead, “It’s been a pretty great week, though.” He smiled, showing off his dimple.
“True.”
He winked. “Let me grab some fresh ice.” He carefully unwound me from his chest, leaning me back onto the couch.
He walked to the kitchen, and I pictured how it would feel for him to be walking away for good. My heart buckled at the thought. My breath hitched, and I knew if it ended, it would take a long while to recover.
“Want me to start a movie? I’m sure you have more Cary Grants.” He raised his brows as he dumped the ice in the sink and grabbed some fresh ice from the freezer.
Maybe the Grant from the movies I was looking for did exist. He came in a little different packaging than I expected, with a love of rock music and a weird addiction to pickle chips and Red Bull. But he was just as kind and loving as I’d imagined.
He was standing in my kitchen right now, even though he was so busy. He was here now, asking to watch my favorite movie. He was here now to take care of me.Was it too good to be true?
“ Roman Holiday is great. Not Cary Grant, though.”
He shrugged. “Your call.” He gingerly placed the ice on my ankle, adjusting the pillow underneath it. “When did you last take ibuprofen?”
I picked up my phone, glancing at the time. “Two hours ago.”
He nodded and sat beside me, handing me the remote.
I didn’t get to know the ending from the start, but the start was turning out to be something amazing. I turned on Roman Holiday. “Next we can do the Transformers one?”
He put his arm behind me. “Deal. That one might have to wait until after work, though.”
I nodded and leaned my head onto his chest. “Did you know Roman Holiday was Audrey Hepburn’s first major role? It was also the first rom-com to win an Academy Award for Best Story.”
Grant chuckled behind me, then his lips pressed against my hair and he rested his jaw on top of my head. He was asleep within fifteen minutes.
Over the next week, there were more movies, talks of our families, hopes we had for the future, and lots of kissing.
Friday after I closed up The Bees Knees, I walked to my car. Grant was supposed to have the movie for the event next Wednesday. Mr. Cole was putting more pressure on him. I wasn’t sure it was in his job description, but he just said that what Mr. Cole wanted, he got.
I climbed into my yellow Bug and pulled out of the parking garage. I headed out to Mom’s. She needed some help with some spring cleanup. This week the garbage trucks would take bigger items for free, and she asked me to come help.
I knocked on the door before I pushed it open. “Hey Mom, it’s me.”
Spike hissed and ran toward the laundry room. I guess he never forgave me for the spray paint or subsequent enforced washing. I walked into the kitchen of my childhood and memories rushed at me: making a swing out of the cabinet handles, a small wooden table that I scratched my name into one day when I was mad, and the burn mark on the countertop from the time I didn’t think I needed a hot pad.
“In the living room,” Mom called. I walked past the wall plastered with school pictures and art projects through the years. Stepping through this hall felt like falling back in time. Back to when the house was full of loud voices. The worn brown carpet showed years of coming and going.
But now, it was just Mom’s footsteps in this big house.
“Hey, Mom.” I found her in the living room going through boxes of food magazines, with Fiddler on the Roof playing on the TV in the background. She was picking up each magazine, looking through, and ripping out pages of recipes I knew she would never make. “What can I help with?”
She patted the faded blue couch cushion beside her. “Want to help me rip out recipes?”
“I thought you said you needed me to help?”
She patted the couch harder; I chuckled and sat. She handed me a stack of twenty years of magazines. I flipped open the first one stuffed with Easter recipes. “Mom, there is a recipe on almost every page.”
“After you rip them out, put them in the piles.” She pointed at the table. “Main course,” she moved her hand down the line, “sides, and then desserts.”
I wanted to argue it wasn’t worth her time with the internet, but I also didn’t want to fight tonight. So I sat and ripped page after page, listening to Reb Tevye.
“So, how are things going with Grant?”
“You could have called and asked.” I bumped into her with my shoulder.
“I’m your mother. I shouldn’t have to call.” Her eyes scrunched. “Besides, I have fifteen years of magazines to go through, and you scammed me.”
Yep. I think she would be able to use that one for years still and I would do whatever she asked. If this wasn’t the definition of cruel and unusual punishment, I did not know what was.
“I think things are going well with Grant.” I turned the page. “He has been amazing, actually.” I tried to contain the smile begging to be released. “I’m still a little worried it can’t last, though.”
Mom smiled. “That’s because you are like me.” She raised her brows. “Once you decide something, it takes a whole lot to change your mind.”
I nodded. That did fit us both to a T. I sighed and ripped out an apple stuffing recipe. “He is super sweet.” I nodded to the TV. “Even if he hated Fiddler when he was younger.”
Mom chuckled. “Even you hated Fiddler . It’s one that gets better with age.” She picked up another magazine. “So, have you kissed?”
“Mom!” I scoffed. “We don’t need to go over all the details.”
She clapped and squealed. “You have kissed.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, you win. Yes. I like him.” I sighed and thought of how he made my heart race. “I like him a lot.”
Mom gestured for me to keep talking.
“I feel like I can talk to him forever, and time stands still and goes quickly at the same time. It seems crazy. I have only been spending time with him for two weeks. He doesn’t belittle me or seem annoyed by my fashion sense. He watches my movies and helped me at The Bees Knees the other day when I needed some things moved around. But it’s more than that. I like that he lets me in, too. He isn’t wrapped up in others’ opinions, talks to me for an hour about some new workout equipment, and tells me about work. It feels real.”
“Sounds like someone is in love.” Mom raised her brows.
My hands froze mid rip.
Was I in love? I thought about him and how he made me smile. When he wasn’t with me, I felt like something was missing. Even now at the thought of him, my heart would skip a beat. If I didn’t love him yet, I was standing on the edge, getting ready to jump.
Hm.
“I’m happy for you, hon.”
“Mom, things are still super early.” I raised my hand to stop the train before it left the station.
“Real love isn’t about how long you’ve known someone—it’s about how they make you feel about yourself. Do they make you a better, more confident version of yourself when you’re with them? Do they help you believe in yourself and what you can accomplish, and do you get to do those things for them? Real love is the stuff the movies wish they could capture.”
Grant made me feel special and more confident.
I finished ripping the page. “Do you want these chocolate cupcakes to go in dessert or main course?” I showed the picture of chocolate cupcake swirled masterpieces.
She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Emma. Main course for sure,” and then we both giggled.
“So, what about the guy that you met at Kismet? The one that recognized you. Have you seen him again?”
Mom lifted her right shoulder. “Hm, I don’t think I can remember.”
The sparkle in her eyes said something very different.