Chapter Twenty-Three
“Do you think I need Botox?”
Luke had picked me up from work so we could check out some venues for the Stag and Doe. Neither Kate nor Ben wanted a big party or lots of drinking, but they wanted to do something fun, which, unhelpfully, was the only direction they’d given us.
“What?” Luke looked at me and then started laughing. “Seriously? Why on earth would you want to get Botox? You’re basically injecting poison into your face.”
“Because of my wrinkles.” My hand involuntarily went up to my lips.
We pulled up to the front of Escape Manor, an escape room Ben had always wanted to try, and Luke put his truck into park. “What wrinkles?” He looked at my face, which was now somewhat visible due to the glow from the streetlight we had parked under.
Even though his face was in the shadow, I couldn’t help but notice his eyes lingering on my lips, so I put my hand back in my lap.
“You know”—I gestured to my face—“I’m in my mid-forties. I have wrinkles. Maybe I should take better care of my skin.”
He took his seatbelt off and turned his body towards me. “Julie,” he said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I laughed. “How could I possibly take that the wrong way?”
But he didn’t laugh. He was dead serious. “You’re beautiful, Julie, both inside and out. Whoever got it into your head that you need Botox, or anything else for that matter, doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Don’t change anything about yourself. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
He reached up and slipped a tendril of hair behind my ear. He was so close I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. My face flushed as I remembered thinking about kissing him the last time we were at his place. Did he want to kiss me now? I had no idea what to think. No idea what to do. So, in true Julie fashion, I bailed.
“Well! We’re here!” I exclaimed, undoing my seatbelt and opening the passenger side door, letting a burst of cold air into the truck’s cab. I pretended not to notice Luke’s look of confusion as I basically tucked and rolled out of the car.
“Have I ever told you how much I dislike escape rooms?” I scrunched up my nose as Luke caught up to me at the door of Escape Manor.
“Only twenty times on the way here,” he said.
“They’re so dumb,” I whined.
He chuckled. “Have you ever noticed that you call everything you find challenging dumb?”
“No, I don’t.”
“What do you think about running?” he asked.
“Running is dumb.”
“And math?”
“Also dumb.”
He raised his eyebrow.
“Merely a coincidence.” I looped my arm through his. “Now, let’s check this place out so we can find something wrong with it and take it off our list.”
Our visit to the escape room was short and sweet. They were fully booked the night Ben and Kate had chosen for their party. You had to book well in advance for weekends, the guy had said while I pretended to look disappointed.
“Ugh, I hate winter,” I muttered as we exited Escape Manor and I almost successfully dodged a snow drift.
“Did you just say you hated winter?” Luke stepped outside behind me and we walked towards his truck.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets, lifting my shoulders up so my face disappeared into my scarf. “Yes, I absolutely did. I hate winter. It’s cold and it’s snowy and it’s slippery and there is nothing at all good about it,” I grumbled. “Please don’t tell me you like winter.”
“I love winter, actually.” He grinned.
“Well, we obviously can’t be friends anymore,” I said, briskly walking towards his truck. “That’s disgusting.”
“Wait,” he said and I ignored him. “Wait!”
I stopped and turned. “What? I’m freezing!”
“Are you?” He raised an eyebrow. “It’s actually not that cold tonight. And you’re wearing seven layers of clothing.”
I stood still and thought for a second. I guess I wasn’t freezing. I was just reacting out of habit. It really wasn’t that bad out.
“Come here.” He pulled me over to the side of the parking lot that overlooked a field, the clean, white snow pristine and untouched. “Listen—”
“To what?” I cut him off.
“Shhh…just listen.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed.
I listened, very aware of his hand holding mine. Feeling the warmth, despite the thickness of my mitts. I didn’t hear anything.
He took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air with just a hint of wood smoke and sighed. “This is why I love winter. This silence.”
“I like hot better than silence,” I whispered.
“Summer is great too,” he said. “But it’s different. Summer has a joyful vibe: the buzz of the frenetic pace as we try to squeeze out every last drop. But winter? Winter is peace. Winter is heavy and soundless and restorative; the snow covering up the plants and grass and trees while they rest. Letting us breathe while we heal.
“Look at this.” He gestured out into the field, the glow from the streetlamps making the falling snow sparkle like Christmas lights. “If you switch your perspective a bit, if you stop looking at the snow as a burden, it starts to become something beautiful and necessary; it becomes something that covers up the noise. Something that gives us permission to slow down and stay inside and curl up under a cozy blanket and watch TV or read a book all day and not feel guilty. It becomes something we all need.”
I looked up at him, at his tranquil expression, and then looked back at the field and I could see it. I could see winter through his eyes. The calmness. The quiet. The peace. How did he keep doing this? Without fail, he would take something I didn’t like—whether it be dodgeball or winter or even what I thought about myself—and he would turn it into something else. Something beautiful. It was like a superpower. One I could never hope to possess. I looked back to say something to that effect and found myself looking right into his eyes, his face dangerously close to mine.
“Julie,” he said softly, but I cut him off. Not wanting to hear what he had to say. Not wanting to feel what I was feeling. Resisting the part of me that was starting to open. Closing it back up tight. I knew I was getting better, but I still had a long way to go. He shouldn’t be with someone like me. And I wouldn’t let either of us take that chance.
“Turns out, I am pretty cold.” I shivered, part of it exaggerated, part of it real. But it wasn’t because of the cold.
“Sure.” He smiled, the sparkle in his eyes dimming. “Let’s go check out Sparky’s. I have a good feeling about karaoke.”
“If you request ‘Living on a Prayer,’ I’m out.” I jumped into the truck and closed the door.
“But we have to test out the equipment to make sure it works,” he said as he slid in. “If it doesn’t hold up for an epic Bon Jovi ballad then why even bother?”
“Exactly,” I said and he laughed.
My shoulders lowered in relief. Good. Things were back to normal.
“I almost ruined it,” I said to Quinn as we sat down at one of the empty high-top tables at a bustling Vic’s Tavern. Ben and Kate had both been too busy for our monthly lunches so I’d swapped both of them out for Quinn, and we’d swapped the lunches out for weekend brunch, easily making the transition from “work” friends to “hanging out” friends.
I pulled out my phone and brought up the brunch menu. “And if I had ruined it, I don’t know what I would have done. Luke is my good friend. He’s been my go-to guy now that Ben and Kate are always so busy. And, let’s be honest, he’s been doing all the heavy lifting with the wedding planning. If I’d slipped up, everything would be over, the wedding would be a disaster and my plan to prove that I wasn’t a disaster would be ruined.”
“Why do you think giving in to whatever it was that was happening would be a slip-up?” she asked. “Why would it ruin everything? Do you have feelings for him?”
“Like more-than-friend feelings?” I sipped my water, trying to hide the flush that had brightened my face.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, more-than-friend feelings. You hang out with him all the time; he’s all you ever talk about, what’s wrong with falling for your friend?”
The server picked that point, the perfect point in my opinion, to come and take our order.
“Anything to drink, ladies?” he asked as he put down a couple of cardboard coasters. “Our bottomless mimosas are on special today.”
“I’ll just have a coffee.” I sighed. “I miss day drinking,” I said to Quinn. Although I did appreciate how long my weekends seemed now that I didn’t have to have three-hour naps in the afternoon.
“I’ll have the same,” Quinn said, shooting me a supportive smile. “And the crab Bennie, please. With pan fries.”
“Same,” I said.
“Great.” The server put his pencil and notepad back in his apron. “I’ll be right back with your coffees.”
“So, what are you up to for the rest of the day?” I swirled my water with my soggy paper straw, hoping Quinn had forgotten what we were talking about.
She hadn’t.
“The only plans I have are waiting for you to answer my question.” She laced her fingers together and propped her chin on them, eyes locked on mine.
I sighed. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know what I feel for Luke. I care for him as a friend, I know that. But do I feel anything more? Maybe? Honestly, it’s been so long since I’ve felt something real that I don’t remember what it feels like.”
“How do you feel when you’re around him?”
“I don’t know.” I thought about it. “Good. Happy.” I thought some more and then surprised myself. “Safe.” Luke did make me feel safe; something I hadn’t felt in so long. When he’d held my hand in the parking lot of the escape room, it was the safest I’d felt in a very long time.
“And are you attracted to him? Physically?” Quinn continued.
Was I? I didn’t know. I took a deep breath and conjured his face in my mind. I didn’t have to try very hard. His warm smile was always there, comfortably living in the background of my thoughts. He wasn’t the type I usually went for; it was true. He wasn’t built like Ethan; he wasn’t a pretty boy. But his eyes were so soft and kind and their sparkle made me shiver, even when it wasn’t cold. His auburn hair, curling around his ears. His strength, his compassion, his humour. His full beard adding a ruggedness that I was, admittedly, starting to find sexy.
“I think I am,” I said on an exhale.
“Why is that bad?” Quinn asked as the server set down our coffees. We both shook our heads when he asked if we wanted milk or cream.
“Because I’m happy right now just being friends. I don’t want this to change.”
“And?” Quinn probed, somehow knowing I wasn’t being completely honest with my reservations.
I sighed. “What if I wreck it? He was once married to an amazing woman; I feel like it would be a step down to start something with someone like me. What if I fall off the wagon? What if I have to start all over?” I said, thinking of Jenn. I sipped my coffee and it burned my tongue. This brunch was turning out to be way less fun than I thought it would be.
“And what if you don’t?” Quinn blew on her coffee and sipped.
“He has a daughter,” I said. “This isn’t just him and me. Whatever we do, whatever happens with us, it will affect her as well. So, I have to be sure. We have to be sure. And I’m not. I’m not sure.” I picked at my cardboard coaster, ready for this conversation to be over.
Quinn looked skeptical but stayed silent.
“I honestly think it’s best to stay friends,” I said, a note of finality in my voice. “Whatever I want, whatever I’m feeling, whatever he’s feeling, we can push past it. We’ll get through it. And before you know it, I won’t even remember I felt anything other than friendship.” I nodded my head affirmatively, trying to convince myself.
“If you say so.” Quinn clapped her hands as the server put down our food. “This looks amazing! Well done, young man.”
“Enjoy,” he said, bowing towards the table and then walking away.
“I feel like he’s too young to be serving alcohol.” Quinn popped a pan fry in her mouth. “Although the older I get, the more I think everyone in their twenties looks like they’re twelve.”
“Speaking of getting older,” I said, lifting my forkful of egg and imitation crab, I hear your birthday is coming up, the big three-five. How about a work party at my place to celebrate? I know my apartment isn’t the greatest, but I think hosting a party would be the kick in the pants I need to fix it up a bit. I can’t promise you anything fancy—I do still have a limited budget—but I can promise I won’t invite Marc.”
“Sold.” She licked ketchup off her fingers. “I may have to get super trashed though.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”