Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Idon’t listen to much of what Banyan says, but sometimes intelligence leaks out of his mouth and I pay attention. Him saying, “Same soul. Same life. Different goals. Written in the sky not in stone” was one of those times.
I’ve been so rigid when it comes to Gavin, but I’m never like that in business. Sure, I’m chasing a goal, but I’m constantly adapting strategy and reevaluating when surprises come up in the numbers. I know how to pivot; I simply like to be in full control when I do.
I don’t know where Gavin’s head is, but if he’s willing to see what we are—as who we are—then I am too.
With Addie perched on his shoulders, he moves with ease through the crowd, all of whom are champing at the bit to talk to him. Even though I’m aware of him and he’s clearly aware of me, I give him a wide berth, igniting a come-and-get-me dance around the perimeter of the shop.
Every time he makes a move toward me, I smile and go in the opposite direction.
After everything said Sunday night and what I know now, everything’s different.
Like the point of a deal when the NDA gets signed and the curtain’s pulled back.
I’m in this shop because I want to know everything there is to know about him.
What his favorite piece of glass is and how he takes his coffee.
If he regrets switching careers and what he says to Addie when he tucks her in at night.
What he looks like when he shaves. Showers. Strips off his clothes and slides into a woman.
I can ignore wants—I do it every day—the carbs I don’t eat and the sleep I don’t get or the desks I don’t clear in momentary fits of rage.
Judging by the way I couldn’t convince myself not to beeline it straight over here after Nancy told me everything, I might need to be here. Air, water, food, Gavin.
Jesus. I sound like Remy.
What I can’t make sense of is how to manage this need as well as all the other truths of my life.
Work. Chicago. The baby I want. Which—after all this time around my sisters and their kids and even Gavin and Addie—I want even more.
I don’t know if I was unhappy in Chicago, but I was so busy that I didn’t feel the weight of what I’ve been missing.
Now that I’m here, now that I see it in the quiet corners of everyday life, I feel every ounce of what—and who—I don’t have. I don’t want to wait. I can’t. I’m healthy, but like Dr. Cantor said, I’m also forty. I don’t have twenty years to get pregnant, I likely have less than ten.
My phone vibrates in my pocket—an alert from the dating app notifying me Dr. Rhett has responded to my last message. How about dinner? Saturday?
Dinner might be a hostage situation, but it’s my only option for seeing his nose and making sure he’s not a complete freak.
I stop in the threshold of the open garage door. The crowd’s thinned out and I easily find Gavin through the few people left. I bite my lip, debating.
Gavin might not be who I thought he was—he’s better than any man I’ve ever imagined—but he’s also an unknown variable.
My feelings and willingness to try this with him aside, I don’t know how we work beyond my time here—unless I stay—and I still want a baby.
I may have started this because of a desperate lie to Trish, but I want a baby in my belly then my arms as soon as it can get here.
I want what Gavin and Addie have—even what me and Addie have.
What my sisters have with their kids. All of it.
Now. If Gavin and I have a prayer of having any kind of future, he has to be okay with my mission to be a mother.
And then there’s work. I can either return to a high-paying career I know I excel in or gamble on a boutique vineyard with a single not bad soft opening weekend.
My career is a proven; the vineyard is in pilot.
I’d never underwrite a deal based on a couple of days of good performance professionally, and I can’t justify doing it with my life.
I need to cover all my bases. I need to meet the doctor.
Before pocketing my phone, I send Rhett a quick Saturday’s perfect. Tell me when and where and I’ll be there.
Banyan follows the last guests out, blowing into his ocarina and drifting the twenty yards to his van. Addie, Gavin, and Nancy step next to me.
Addie’s talking a million miles an hour, but I can’t focus on her because Gavin and I are deeply invested in a game of look then look away.
Nancy notices. “Ads—” She runs her fingers through her granddaughter’s hair. “How about you have one last sleepover with Nan before the big move, hm?”
Addie looks at Gavin. “Can I, Uncle Gav?”
“Sure,” he says, mock punching her shoulder. “But only if Miss Reese agrees to look at my barndo.”
“You know—” I school my smile. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”