Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Vivian had expected dates with Dean to feel complicated. Sneaking around certainly was. She’d just never imagined it would also be so wonderfully ordinary.
It wasn’t the lunches, or the kisses, or even waking up smiling after another night spent talking on the phone until one of them fell asleep that she loved the most. It was everything in between.
Sometime over the past three weeks, Dean had quietly become a part of her day. Every morning, without fail, her phone buzzed before she had finished her first cup of coffee.
Sometimes he sent a meme. Sometimes a picture from an early morning practice or workout. Sometimes he just told her to have a great day, like today’s text.
Morning, sunshine. Enjoy your day off. Wish I was there with you.
Every time Dean called her sunshine, she melted inside.
He was on the road with the team. He’d boarded a bus at the ass crack of dawn this morning, heading to Buffalo, and he wouldn’t be back until very late tomorrow night.
She was thirty, a widow, and a single mother. A simple text should not have her grinning like she was some sixteen-year-old girl with her first crush.
“What are you smiling about?” Belle asked, stepping into the kitchen.
Vivian’s head was so high up in the clouds, she hadn’t even heard Belle pull into the driveway and enter the house. As Pip’s nanny, Belle had her own key.
“Nothing,” Vivian said, unable to come up with a quick lie.
Belle gave her a funny look. Probably because this wasn’t the first time her bestie had caught her grinning like a big old goofball lately.
“Mm-hmm. You’ve been smiling at your phone a lot these days,” Belle remarked, definitely suspicious, which made sense, considering Vivian had never been the type of woman to walk around with her phone practically glued to her hand before Dean.
“Have not,” Vivian countered, even though she didn’t have a leg to stand on.
“Have too.” Belle wasn’t backing down. “I can’t help but wonder who you’re texting. Give me his name.”
“What? Him who?” Vivian said. “I’m not texting anyone, Belle. You’re imagining things.”
Belle rolled her eyes. “I’m not imagining anything, but I’ll let you keep your secret for now. Only because Pip’s going to be late for school if we don’t get a move on.”
Vivian had lost all track of time, too distracted by thoughts of Dean. “Shit. I forgot to wake her up.”
Belle grinned. “I noticed. You remembered today is a half-day, right? The teachers are doing some professional development thing.”
“I remember,” Vivian lied. She’d completely forgotten, but she refused to admit it because it would just make Belle even more suspicious.
Vivian—pre-Dean—had been borderline OCD when it came to daily schedules and routines.
Nowadays, she was lucky if she remembered to put her panties on underneath her clothing.
“You sure you don’t want me to pick her up? ”
Ordinarily, Vivian took Pip to school on her days off, but Belle had a bunch of errands to run this morning, so she offered to do it. That way, Vivian could spend a lazy morning in her pajamas.
“Nope. I’ll still be in town at that point, so it’s not a problem. If my hair appointment runs late, I’ll call, but otherwise, I’m cool with getting her.”
“Thanks,” Vivian said, as they walked into Pip’s room together, working as a team to rouse the little girl, who was not a morning person.
Thirty minutes and twelve “I don’t wanna go to school” complaints later, Belle and Pip were out of the house and Vivian was back at the kitchen counter, sipping her second cup of coffee.
Typically, she spent her days off running errands, catching up on laundry, tidying the house. Today, she couldn’t get her mind to do any of those things, too distracted by all things Dean.
It had been three weeks since their first “official” date at that quaint little seafood place on the Inner Harbor. For a man who claimed to have precious little experience with relationships, Dean was proving himself to be excellent boyfriend material.
Last week, she’d had a killer day at work, one patient after another. By the time she’d escaped her final appointment, her shoulders had ached and she couldn’t recall if she’d eaten anything since breakfast. That was when her grumbling stomach let her know she hadn’t.
She pushed open the door to her office, surprised to spot a bakery box sitting on top of her desk. One of the nurses, Donna, walked by and realized what she was looking at.
“Hope you don’t mind me slipping that in there,” Donna had said. “This gorgeous man stopped by and dropped that off for you.”
Inside had been a huge, delicious blueberry muffin with a note tucked next to it.
Know today is a busy one. Eat.
Vivian had confessed a few days prior that there were a lot of days when she got too busy to take a lunch break. Dean had clearly listened when she’d told him how busy that day’s schedule was and decided to take care of her.
Phil had always remembered the big things, making sure anniversaries, birthdays, the holidays were super special.
Dean remembered the smaller things, like when she casually mentioned a day would be long, busy and emotionally draining. She wasn’t sure which was more romantic.
Then there were the nightly phone calls that came after Pip was asleep, the dishes were washed, and she was settled in her own bed.
Last evening, Dean had spent fifteen minutes passionately explaining why the referees had completely missed an obvious interference penalty. Vivian had grown up with a hockey player brother, so she was no stranger to what she called “referee rage.”
Once he settled down, she took a turn, venting about insurance companies requiring prior authorization for medications patients needed desperately.
They’d continued chatting until the line on the other end finally went silent.
Vivian had called his name a couple of times, grinning when a soft snore drifted through the speaker.
It wasn’t the first time he’d fallen asleep mid-conversation.
She’d been guilty of doing the same a couple of times.
It was because neither of them ever wanted to say goodbye.
Last night, instead of hanging up, she’d remained on the line for a few minutes, listening to him breathe. The sound had settled something restless inside her. She missed sharing the ordinary parts of her life with someone. It was nice knowing he was there at the end of each day.
Eventually, she’d whispered, “Good night,” and ended the call.
Boyfriend. That word kept drifting through her mind.
Is that what Dean was?
Neither of them had sought to define this thing between them. Instead, they simply drifted from one date to the next, not bothering to label it. Or announce it to anyone.
As her feelings for Dean grew, the secrecy got harder to maintain. If it had just been her, she would have rented a plane and announced to the world in skywriting that she was dating Coach Dean Fields.
But with Pip…
“Ugh,” she groaned aloud, to the empty house.
Enough.
She couldn’t sit here with her head in the clouds all day, dreaming about the hunky new man in her life.
Well, she could. But she shouldn’t.
So she downed the rest of her coffee, forced herself out of the chair, and started working her way through the to-do list. Before she knew it, Pip was bursting through the front door, Belle following in her wake.
“We had a half-day,” Pip declared loudly, stating the obvious.
“I know. Did you have a good morning?”
Pip launched into a long story about how she’d wanted to use the purple glitter, but her best friend took it all, and now her dinosaur picture was ruined because she had to use the green instead.
“I’m sure the picture is lovely,” Vivian said, looking at Belle. “What a cute haircut.”
Belle ran her hands through her hair. “Went a little shorter this time. You’re sure it looks okay?”
“I love it.” Vivian had long, wavy, thick hair that required a bit of work on her part if she wanted to style it. It was one reason she was a big fan of ponytails and messy buns. “I’ve been toying with cutting mine,” she admitted. “It would be so much easier to take care of.”
“You could totally rock a long bob,” Belle said.
Prior to moving in with Victor, Belle had lived with Vivian and Pip for five years. As such, it was second nature for them to fall into the old patterns, the two of them working together to make sandwiches for lunch.
Victor was on the road with Dean, so Vivian suspected Belle would stay here with them until bedtime. If they fell into a bottle of wine together, Belle might even spend the night in her old bedroom, which would suit Vivian just fine.
Once they cleared the lunch dishes, Pip asked if she could ride her bike. October had given way to November, but the weather was still mild enough, pleasant enough, that they could hang outside in nothing more than lightweight jackets or cardigans.
“Iced tea on the porch?” Vivian asked Belle, who nodded.
The two of them sat next to each other, watching as Pip climbed on her bike. Her confidence and ability had only gotten better since that initial lesson with Dean. This time, she rode her bike all the way to the mailbox and back without wobbling once.
“Did you see me, Mommy?” Pip yelled, exuberantly.
“I did!” Vivian replied, as Belle cheered.
“I didn’t fall.”
“You’re doing so good,” Belle gushed.
“Can you take a video of me doing it again?” Pip asked.
Vivian lifted her phone, waving it. “Sure.”
Pip repeated her same journey down the driveway and back, just as steady this time as the first.
“Well done!” Vivian said, ending the video once Pip was back.
“I’m going to tell Coach Dee the next time I see him,” Pip exclaimed.
“He’ll be very proud of you,” Vivian said, secretly thrilled that Pip wanted to share her achievement with Dean. She told herself she was being a responsible adult by keeping this budding relationship with Dean a secret until…
She sighed. She was seriously starting to hate the word until.