Chapter 12 Isaiah’s Wedding #2
There were so many people in the wedding party that the bride and grooms forewent a long table, and just the three of them sat at a small one.
I take my assigned seat with my family and Joaquín. Before dinner, a waiter asks if someone is sitting in the empty seat next to me and asks if I know what they ordered.
“No, she wasn’t able to attend,” I reply.
The waiter gives a polite nod and efficiently clears her plates, silverware, and glasses. With each item removed, I sink a little further into my chair. My whiskey doesn’t taste as good, and the invincibility I felt in my tuxedo a while ago fades.
Angie places a hand on my shoulder. “What happened to Renée? She couldn’t make it?”
I shake my head.
“I’m sorry. I was looking forward to meeting her.”
“You were?”
“Well, yeah,” she smiles. “You sounded so excited over the phone when you told me about her. And from the way Dad was talking”—she shrugs—“I just... had to see for myself.”
“She’s really pretty,” Joaquín adds from my right side. He scoots over a little more, making up the room where the waiter pulled the extra chair. “I met her when he moved in.”
“She was there that day?”
I nod. “You were all heading inside after our hike, and she was in the front yard.”
“With her daughters,” Joaquín smiles. “They made him cookies.”
“Aww,” Angie coos, her face tilting and eyes softening. “So she couldn’t make it?”
I take another swallow of whiskey. “One of her daughters got sick today, and her sister, who was supposed to babysit, got sick right before we were supposed to leave.”
“Oh no,” she says, frowning.
I don’t know what causes me to say what I’m about to say, but I can’t stop it. “She doesn’t like me anyway.”
Joaquín rears back. “That can’t be true.” Bless my best friend for being confused that someone doesn’t find me likeable.
“No,” I sigh. “It is. I wasn’t a very good student when she was my professor. And she’s always, like, pulling away. Usually. She’s probably relieved she didn’t have to come here with me.”
“Don’t say that,” Angie says with a pinch between her brows. She turns fully in her seat to face me head-on and places her hand on my forearm. “What do you want with her? Something casual? Something serious?”
“I...” I have to stop myself because I don’t want to admit the truth.
I’m not even sure what the truth is anymore.
All I wanted was to sleep with her. Preferably many times in many positions on many surfaces.
I wasn’t thinking about how it would all shake out, and I can’t tell my sister I was only thinking with my dick.
But tonight has shown me what I want is a lot more than living out my naughty professor fantasies.
“I just want her.” I shrug, and it hurts to admit that boiled-down fact, because I really don’t think she wants me the same way.
“I think Dad was right. She and I are at different stages of life. I’m just this.
.. young dude who didn’t pay attention in her class, who probably made her life harder because of it.
And she’s annoyed that I live right next to her and she can’t do anything about it. ”
“I think you’re being too hard on yourself,” Joaquín says. “I know I’m your best friend, but I truly mean it when I say you’re a very lovable person, Jonah. It sucks that she couldn’t come tonight, but I think she would have had a lovely evening with you.”
“You weren’t planning on taking your shirt off at this wedding like you did at mine, though, right?” Angie asks because, valid.
I roll my eyes. “No. Zay specifically told me to keep my clothes on.”
“Look at that.” Joaquín grins and throws his arms out wide. “You are capable of maturity! Renée will love that.”
“Yes,” Angie says. She points a finger at him like he’s onto something, then looks at me.
“Baby brother, if you wanna date this woman, a single mother, you need to show her how dedicated and responsible you can be. Keep showing up. Don’t give her any reason to think you can’t handle your own life.
Then, she might consider letting you into hers. ”
The notion that I could be someone who has their life together enough to win over a woman like Renée is laughable and daunting.
I don’t always think things through, and I have never been someone with much responsibility.
Hell, just last year I lost my phone in a lake, jumped in, and asked my friend to call it so I could hear it ring under the water.
But my life feels different now that I’m a homeowner—now that I have animals that rely on me.
Caring for them hasn’t been too difficult; it’s been rather enjoyable.
I love getting up in the morning and kissing their happy faces.
I don’t even mind the chores that go along with having animals and all the property.
Maybe showing more responsibility is not so far-fetched.
It’s not unlike what I’m doing with my rugby team and building the training facility. The meeting I had with Raf and Joaquín the other day comes to mind—how doing things the right way often takes more time.
And I realize with new-found clarity, that I want to do things the right way for her.
“You think so?” I ask. “You think she would let me in?”
“I can’t know for sure,” Angie says. “She might be too badly burned to ever want something serious again. I don’t know her story. But if you want her, and you want more than—I’m assuming you just wanted to sleep with her?”
I nod. “But I think I want more than that now.”
“You’re sure?” she asks.
I suck in a deep breath. “Yes.”
“Then you need to show up for her without a dick agenda. Can you do that?”
I sit up a little straighter now. “Of course I can. I really do just want to spend time with her.” The words come tumbling out before I even register them.
But they’re… true, I realize with complete clarity.
I’ve been so focused on getting her underneath me, I didn’t notice my priorities shift.
Don’t get me wrong, I want to know what her tits look like, but I also want to know what songs she listens to on repeat, and what problems keep her up at night.
“And what about her daughters?” Joaquín asks.
“They’re so cute. And like, really cool.” I smile. “The little one, Lo, she doesn’t talk, but she’s so sweet.”
Joaquín points at me. “Then make them a priority, too.”
“Yes,” Angie smiles conspiratorially. “Respect her boundaries, but make sure she knows you value her daughters just as much.”
All at once, the extinguished flame of my hope flickers to life once again. “I can totally do that.”
“You’re already so good with my kids,” Angie says. “Just be yourself, turn up the volume on responsibility, and she’ll see what we all see.”
A genuine grin returns to my face for the first time since I left my house today. “Yeah! You’re right. God, you two are way more helpful to talk to than Dad and Dane.”
My mood returns almost to normal as the rest of the evening passes.
I eat an incredible dinner. Drink a couple more whiskies and meet Dell and Robyn’s families.
I dance with Joaquín and Robyn and a few of her teammates, all the while wishing Renée could be here.
My determination to win her has taken over, and I can barely think about anything else.
I was stupid to think she would simply fall for my charm—that I could flash her a smile and she’d be in my arms. If she needs to see how responsible and dedicated I am, then that’s exactly what I’ll be.
I’ve delayed becoming a real adult for too long.
Renée Wilde deserves a man who knows what he’s doing, and I’m gonna be that man.
At the end of the evening, I stop one of the waiters and ask if they have any entrees or cake left that they could wrap up for me. To my delight, they do. As I wait for them to return, I spot Dane sitting with his legs wide and a glass in his hand, talking to Rafael.
It starts now, I tell myself as I walk up to them.
“I’m gonna give the team my all,” I interrupt. Dane and Raf both look at me in surprise. “You were on the fence about me supporting the team enough, but I’m gonna stick with it. I’m going to be the first one there and the last one to leave. I’m gonna remember the plays. I’m gonna do this right.”
I expect my brother to give me some asshole reply or sigh like he doesn’t believe a word coming out of my mouth. What I don’t expect is for him to smile, stand, and wrap me in a hug.
“I know you are,” he slurs.
Oh, so he’s drunk. Great.
Rafael chuckles behind him. “I’ll make sure he remembers this.”
The waiter returns and sets a paper bag on the table and nods to me.
“Thank you,” I whisper over my drunk brother’s shoulder, who is still fiercely hugging me.
Rafael laughs some more because this embrace is lasting way too long, but soon enough Joaquín is peeling him off me. “Ven conmigo, güey.”
“Oh God,” Dane groans. “I can’t think in Spanish right now.”
“You got him?” I ask Joaquín.
“Oh yeah,” he smiles. “Come on, drunky, let’s go home.”
“Can we get Wawa on the way?”
Joaquín leads him to the lobby and rubs his hand over Dane’s back. “Of course we can.”
“I think I drank too much,” is the last thing I hear before they disappear around the corner.
On my drive home, I have the driver pull into a twenty-four-hour grocery store.
The harsh fluorescent lights assault me when I step through the sliding doors, and the reality of what I’m doing hits me, but in a good way.
It’s like the hit you receive from your teammates when you score.
The back slaps and body slams of a job well done.
I made a list in the car of all the things that might be nice in a get well soon care package for Delta. But as soon as I put the first stuffed animal in the cart, I realize I need to double everything. I can’t leave Lo out. Even if she doesn’t get sick, she deserves a little something too.
That’s how I end up with two pink baskets, each filled with a Squishmallow, children’s upset stomach medicine, hair ties, nail polish, ice packs, electrolytes, coloring books, and soup.
I also made a basket for Renée’s sister. Everyone loves Squishmallows, right?
Twenty minutes later, the driver pulls into her driveway, and I text Renée for the first time. I triple check that I spelled everything right and used the correct punctuation before I hit send.
Me: If you’re awake, come to your front door.
I’m already waiting there when the door unlocks and the porch light washes over her.
She shuts the door behind her, still in her robe, with no makeup on her face, and her hair pulled back into a pony. She stands there, fiddling with her robe.
“Did you have a good time?” she asks.
“I missed you.”
The corner of her mouth twists up in a way that tells me she doesn’t quite believe me. “I’m sure you got on just fine.”
“I really did. I wish you could have been there. There were so many plants, and... I thought about you a lot. I wanted to ask you what each plant was.”
“Jonah, I’ve seen pictures of that place. That would have taken all night.”
I can’t stop the little smile on my face. “Okay. Another time then.”
Renée studies me for a moment. “What is all this?” She nods at everything I’m carrying.
“Oh,” I laugh. “I brought you leftovers. I got the pasta that you ordered, and some cake slices. Then I made some care packages for Delta and Lo and your sister. What was her name again?”
“Amber...”
“Right. Amber. I hope that’s okay. I felt bad that I was... well, I felt bad. The pasta is still warm. It wasn’t sitting out or anything.”
“Thank you,” she says. “That’s really nice.”
“How is everyone feeling?”
“The vomiting has stopped for now, but Delta and Amber are still running mild fevers.”
“But Lo and you are okay?”
“So far.”
“Well, I don’t want to take up the rest of your night. I just wanted to stop by and give this to you. Do you want me to carry these inside?”
“No, I got it. Thank you, though.”
“Sure.” I let a soft smile linger before I step away. “Have a good night. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Okay,” she says tentatively and gives me a small wave. “Goodnight.”
Renée
I’m on autopilot when I shut and lock the door behind me. The care packages make their way in—they’re somewhere now—but all I can think about is what just happened on my front porch.
When I first stepped outside, all I could hear were crickets chirping and the engine of that big black SUV. Somewhere between then and now I lost myself.
I flick on the living room lamp before poking through the care packages. The children’s medicine isn’t for the right age, but that doesn’t stop my chest from cracking in half at just how thoughtful this gesture is. Art supplies, hair accessories, chicken noodle soup with the little stars...
Part of me expected him to get college-level wasted at the wedding. Instead, he thought of my daughters. He thought of Amber, and he hasn’t even met her yet. Maybe I had Jonah all wrong.
With an unexpected smile, I pluck the Squishmallows from each basket and carefully open the door to the girls’ room.
A soft purple light casts low from the unicorn night-light, just enough for me to see two sleeping beauties, one with a sick bucket next to her twin-size bed.
I gently lay a stuffie next to each girl.
Delta sleeps like the dead when she’s sick, so she doesn’t even stir when I scan her forehead with the thermometer. Ninety-nine. Better. I check Lo for good measure, and she’s still holding strong.
Her eyes crack open as I pocket the thermometer, and she reaches for me. Her little body is warm against mine, and the scent of watermelon shampoo stirs something tender and fiercely maternal in me.
“Go back to sleep,” I whisper, and kiss her on the forehead. “I love you.”
When I get back into my bed, I stare at the expensive gown hanging on the back of my door.
At the pretty shoes tucked against the wall—shoes I’ve only ever worn to dominate in.
Tonight was going to be my first time wearing the black, pointed-toe heels outside of that capacity.
I chose them for tonight because they’ve always done right by me.
They’re sharp and elegant, and I can wear them for at least a few hours without hurting my feet.
I would have loved to wear them dancing tonight, though. I doubt that even pinched toes could have spoiled the night. Not in the least.