Chapter 14 – Start Here
Liam
I’m convinced Andrew could excel at just about any career. Well, any career that doesn’t involve handing out compliments. He has Rosalie’s car up and running in no time, and she looks the most grateful I’ve ever seen her.
Grateful to get away from me, if I’m reading her body language right. We keep reiterating that we’re friends, but she’s afraid to get within three feet of me. That’s on me. I’m confusing her, and it’s the last thing I want.
Every time I think I can be indifferent to her if I just try a little harder, the universe sends me a reminder that I’m still a guy. The last thing I overhear before Rosalie leaves is her telling Marisol that she’s headed home to take a bubble bath and read a book.
I have a trick for clearing my mind when I’m overwhelmed. I recite the Harry Potter books in order. And then I recite them backwards. Next, I go through the Narnia series, in publication and then reading order. I’m getting good. I’m reciting them as she’s driving away from us.
Since Rosalie didn’t take any leftovers except a piece of cake for the road, Marisol loads me up. I can see questions in her eyes, but she won’t ask me in front of the kids.
I don’t have answers for her. I don’t have answers for me.
I have no idea what I want to do about the situation.
I do know talking to Rosalie is fun. The old guy behind the counter at O’Reilly’s adored her on sight.
She left knowing all about his three grandkids and his wife’s secret chicken Alfredo recipe.
He assumed we were together, and neither of us corrected him.
Staying quiet was an easy call. I would have gotten an impertinent “why not?” and as stated, I don’t know why not.
Okay, I do know why not. I have a whole list of why-nots that start with my kids, my life, being her boss and not messing that up, and then there’s me. Relationships don’t work when I’m one-half of the equation. Even Esther moved on and figured things out. But not me. I’m still stuck.
I can put on a good front. I can do or say the right things while I’m dating someone, but eventually the front just isn’t enough. Rosalie deserves more than that. How did Maggie describe me? Oh yeah, nice and completely closed off. I’m a total catch.
We listen to an audiobook on the way home, and both kids stay awake, a small miracle. That means they’re ready for bedtime with minimal prodding once we go inside. A power nap would have energized them for hours.
“Did you like dinner?” I ask Callie when I’m tucking her into bed. It didn’t seem like she ate all that much, but normally she begs for a snack, and she didn’t this time.
She touches noses with her ratty stuffed giraffe and then looks up at me. “I liked the carrot curls and the soup. Auntie Marisol already asked me so many questions. But then she gave me a second piece of cake, so I didn’t mind so much. Can we have waffles for breakfast?”
“Sure, kid.”
She yawns and reaches up for a hug. Her little hands are cold on my neck. “Is Ro’s car okay?”
“Yes. It’s invincible.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means her car is super healthy now that it has a new battery.”
“Oh, good. That means she can go to the movies with us tomorrow. Bea says there’s a dinosaur movie, and Ro really likes dinosaurs. Her favorite is the… I can’t remember.”
I’m not sure if she’s talking about a kids movie with a friendly talking dinosaur, or a movie where the dinosaurs eat greedy corporate hacks who wander into the jungle, but either way, I’d rather not.
“Ro has plans tomorrow. What about the library?”
“Closed on Saturdays.”
She says it with so much authority that I don’t question it.
“Remember, Dad? We tried to go there before Wyatt’s karate class.”
“That’s right.”
I’d forgotten about his class on Saturday nights at the rec center.
I shouldn’t have signed him up for it since he already has basketball.
We’ve missed two karate classes, one due to Esther not bothering to take him and one due to a schedule conflict.
I think tomorrow’s class is the last one.
Thank goodness. His favorite part is the uniform, and he’ll get to keep that.
He’ll probably use it for a Halloween costume.
Callie and I bounce possible Saturday plan ideas off each other until she gives a big yawn and rolls onto her side. I tuck her pink comforter closer up around her. She tends to kick out in her sleep until she has no blankets covering her at all.
Once I’m downstairs, I walk straight over to the calendar sitting on the desk in the kitchen.
It’s not to check on Wyatt’s karate class schedule.
I want my letter. Just because I think I’m bad for her doesn’t mean I don’t want every bit of Rosalie I currently get.
Her letters are better than mine. Sunshine on paper. Even her handwriting is friendly.
Liam,
Go back and read all the sticky notes first and then start here --->
She knows me too well. I set the letter off to the side and go through the calendar.
Wyatt’s basketball game is tomorrow at noon.
Callie has a playdate with a friend, so we didn’t even need to haggle about plans.
We’re out of bread. Rosalie put three tally marks on today’s calendar square to indicate how many times Wyatt asked about getting a dog. One less than yesterday.
She also added school shopping to the to-do list with a reminder that meet-the-teacher night is coming up and I need to make sure I’ll be home in time.
I’m ready for that. Well, as ready as you can be when you’re sending your youngest off to kindergarten.
My parents’ anniversary party is in three weeks, and Rosalie is going to watch the kids.
It’s a stuffy, adults-only affair. Although it will be nice to see relatives and my parents’ old friends.
I have no idea why Rosalie asked me to read the sticky notes first until I see the last few. Rosalie wrote, “Remember you’re wonderful.” Underneath that is a sticky note from Wyatt, “Remember you’re wonderful smelly, Dad.”
Callie, who can’t write yet, filled out the last sticky note with random letters, the word cat, and a heart with whiskers and a tail. Here’s hoping she’s not asking for a cat.
I go back to the letter and read the next line.
Add sticky notes to your shopping list and remember you ARE wonderful. After they added their messages, the kids took the last of the sticky notes and covered each other with them. Pictures are in the drive.
Do you feel the last days of summer slipping away? I do. We always had a family reunion the last week before school, so I often showed up that first day sleep deprived and wearing the only clean shirt left in my drawer, one two sizes too small.
I think the teachers would have been more concerned if I didn’t look so happy.
Cousin friends are the best kind of friends.
They’re the reason I’m on Facebook. I like seeing their updates.
Does Esther have any siblings with kids?
I don’t see your brother getting married any time soon.
That’s not me judging him. He told me last Christmas, and I quote, “I’m not getting married any time soon. ”
I’m not a fan of long road trips anymore, but if it’s a must, the snacks have to be top notch. My top three are Red Vines, pistachios, and Oreos.
Your nostalgic friend,
Rosie
After tonight, I wish I had a letter to give back to her.
Something that will set things right between us.
While the details are fresh in my mind, I write out the letter she’ll get on Monday.
I tell her about how sending Callie off to kindergarten is every bit as hard as everyone said it would be.
I tell her about Esther’s sister, who is three times as scary as Esther and thankfully not giving my kids any cousins.
At least, last I checked. She’s still playing soccer in Europe and part of the reason Esther took off all those years ago to “find herself.”
Since Esther is so open about it with Rosalie, I have no reason not to be.
I tell her how Andrew and Marisol’s kids are the only “cousins” my kids might ever have and how I rarely see most of my own cousins and wish we were closer. My hand is starting to cramp, but we didn’t start out typing these up so I’m not going to change it now.
I end with my own road-trip must-have list and a little bit of heckling. I’d eat her snacks, but only if I didn’t have anything better. I despise Red Vines, pistachios are wrinkly, chewy monstrosities, and Oreos are mid unless you crush them up and layer them with chocolate pudding.
I can picture her squawking in outrage, and it makes me smile.