Chapter Eighteen
Anthony
Waffles for a dinner date? Never have I ever. Not that I’ve been on a lot of dates in the past ten years, but still. This is a first. From the expression on Lottie’s face, I can tell she wouldn’t mind if it weren’t the last.
“How’d you know I love waffles for dinner?” She cuts her waffle with a butter knife, napkin nestled in her lap with impeccable manners. I reach with my manure hand for my glass of orange juice. We went for the complete breakfast spread, eggs and hashbrowns on the side.
“That’s all Felicity.” I down a gulp and resist the urge to sniff my hand. You don’t want to know what I went through Saturday afternoon in desperate measures to rid myself of that stench. If I never go anywhere near manure again in my life, I will be a happy man.
Would I do it again for Lottie? I let out a self-deprecating sigh. Yes. Yes, I would.
“She’s like a little elf lately. First the birthday, then helping you plan this date.”
“She says you’re the best, so…”
Her face glows. “Being a single mom isn’t so hard when you have a daughter like Felicity.”
“You’re a wonderful mom.”
She preens under my compliment. We went for a more casual look today. Well, as casual as I can handle. I’m in Dockers with a crisp black polo shirt. She’s wearing fitted jeans that make it hard for me to swallow and the purple blouse I picked up from Von Maur.
“Where to next…fearless leader?” She winks, and I’m reminded of the night we met. “Let me guess.” She leans into me playfully. We are sitting side-by-side in a booth tonight. No more table-between-us nonsense. I slip an arm around her shoulder and tug her closer. Ahhh. Now this is right. “You’re going to take me to Casey’s, aren’t you?”
I snap my fingers. “You ruined my plans.”
She laughs, and I want to kiss her, here and now. But since she knows everyone in Waffle Palace, one of my limited options in town for this date, I content myself with a nose pressed to her hair. Soft as feathers.
How did I exist before I met this woman?
You are in way too deep, Anthony.
Nope, not God talking again. That’s my subconscious. The one I don’t want to hear. Now or ever.
“I have it on good authority you’ll love our destination.”
“Oh?” She tilts her head back, putting her lips in dangerous proximity to mine. “Is that the authority of an eight-year-old?”
“You’re too smart for me,” I say, my voice slightly slurred as I fight the temptation to lower my lips to hers. It would help if she turned her face away, but instead, she lifts one eyebrow in the barest flicker as if to say “what’s stopping you?”
I can’t hold back any longer. I angle myself enough that my lips can reach hers. Even though I keep it short and sweet, the restaurant falls dead silent. When we part, there’s a burst of noise. Claps, whistles, cheers, wolf calls. My face ignites with heat, and I duck my head. Lottie just throws her head back, releasing a carefree laugh. The sound loosens something inside me.
I make Lottie happy.
“Come on.” I nudge her from the booth and boldly take her hand, leading her from the restaurant. We’re under the spotlight, every eye in the building tracking our movement, and I smile and nod even if I’m way out of my element here. The blessed humid Iowa air has never felt so welcome as it smacks me in the face on a strong breeze when we step outside.
“That was quite the show there, Suits.” Lottie wiggles her eyebrows at me. “You’re scoring points with the populace around here. I’m rather popular, you know.”
Her words are aimed to warm me, but instead, a chip of ice begins to form in my chest. These people will never forgive me if I hurt Lottie. I’m not going to this time, right?
Before panic can throw its anchor, I steer Lottie toward my car. “I hear you like the lake.”
She stops so fast I almost run her over like I thought that ever-loving cow was going to do to me. Her eyes sparkle with excitement. “I haven’t had a chance to go all summer! Are you serious?”
“Why not? It’s not far. And I need to see it too, be—” I cut myself off. I was about to say “before I leave again.” That would definitely put a damper on the mood. “Because I’ve heard such good things about it,” I fumble, opening the door for Lottie. “But you have to show me the way.”
“I could get there with my eyes closed.” Her face is placid as she leans her head against the headrest and closes her eyes. “I’ll even give you Atlanta-worthy directions. Make a right out of here, then take the next right at the intersection, left on G-40, and enjoy the view till we get to the lake. Easy peasy.”
Everything feels easy with this woman beside me.
I enjoy every minute of the ride. The view doesn’t change much until we near the lake, where the terrain rises to small bluffs in some places, dips low to beaches in others. Lake Red Rock sparkles ahead of us, reaching out in all directions with finger-like inlets. This has to be the most beautiful man-made lake I’ve ever seen.
“Sometime I’ll take you to the overlook by the dam,” Lottie says. “There’s great views on that end. But the trails in Elk Rock State Park are my favorite.”
We park and walk a while, surrounded by trees and topography that feels more familiar to me than the usual sparse landscape of central Iowa. Lottie tells me more history of the lake. I ask about her father. She’s quiet at first, then slowly shares the story. Much like her ex-husband leaving rocked Felicity’s world as a child, so did her father’s leaving rock hers. Her family pulled long days and nights to save the farm. She doesn’t say so, but I can tell it means everything to her.
A clod of lint seems lodged in my throat as we emerge onto a secluded beach. The lake waters lap gently against the shore. Since this lake is a drastically widened part of the Des Moines River, a lazy current keeps the water moving. A stick bobbles by on its journey toward the southern end where the dam holds the tide at bay.
Lottie laces her fingers through mine and shines a smile up at me. I don’t know what to say, so I pull her into my arms.
What am I thinking, getting involved with this woman? Her life is here. In Iowa. On that farm. I could never ask her to leave it for me. She wouldn’t, and it wouldn’t be fair of me to ask her, anyway.
Yes, I like it here. Yes, I finally found God here, in the middle of rows of corn. Yes, my mom is here, and I’ve enjoyed reconnecting with her. That doesn’t mean I can livehere. Do business here. Make a living here. I can’t uproot and move to Iowa for a woman, no matter how wonderful. I can’t be an attorney here.
What of my dreams, my promotion, my…money? Those things matter too, don’t they?
“What’s going through your head?” Lottie asks softly, and I realize my internalizations are showing up on my face. I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know if this date was another mistake. But I know I want to enjoy it.
I banish my panicked thoughts and lead Lottie to the sand, plunking down and pulling her onto my lap. “Just thinking how glad I am that Aunt Doris is your next-door neighbor.”
“Imagine if she weren’t.” Lottie squirms around in my arms and cups my face with her hands. Her thumbs stroke my cheeks, then nestle into my facial hair. I lean into her touch like a puppy does when being petted. “You wouldn’t have gotten that cake bath. Or the farm initiation.”
“I could live without either one. But both of them led me to kissing you, so I won’t complain.” Instead, I kiss her again, lightly, teasingly nipping at her lips. I don’t want to let this get too serious right now. I like her too much. I can feel it.
I suddenly pop to my feet, toe off my shoes, strip my socks off, and tug her toward the water. When she hesitates, I lean down and scoop my hand through the water.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she gasps.
“Woman, I wouldn’t tempt me. I threw manure at you.”
I launch the water then, and she screams as it splashes her shirt. I’m totally unprepared for her to charge into the water, barreling toward me at full speed. She body-slams me, and we both go down and land with a tremendous splash.
Standing, I shake like a dog. “If this is how all our dates are going to go, I’ll need a helmet and knee pads.”
She laughs as she drags herself from the water. “You’d still be handsome.”
“You’ve thought I’m handsome since you laid eyes on me. Haven’t you?” I poke a finger into her side when she ignores me, and she shies away.
“Fine. Yes. I couldn’t help drooling over you, but only a little.”
We watch the sunset’s reflection on the lake, then make our way back to my car. We’re both soaked to the bone, but the night is warm. On her porch a half-hour later, I can’t tear myself away. I have her back against the front door, my hands burrowed in her wet hair. Things are just getting started when the door jerks wide open and Lottie crumbles straight through the opening, wrenching from my handhold.
“Mom!” It’s Felicity, and she doesn’t look happy. Shouldn’t Lottie’s sister have put her to bed by now? “Were you guys kissing? Ewww. That’s so disgusting.” She ignores her mother, prostrate on the floor, and wags her finger at me. “Bad, Mr. Anthony. Bad.”
I offer a petulant pout. “Can I have five more minutes with your mom?”
“Absolutely not! It’s past her bedtime! Didn’t you have enough time with her?”
Never enough.
And that’s when I know I have it bad. Maybe worse than bad.
I might be in love.