29. Have You Ever Made Pasta Before? #2
With Nick, but I don’t say it. The name sits heavy with memory. I don’t want to spend all my time in this new relationship comparing it to the one I had with him. They’re two different things, and if I’m going to move forward, I can’t keep bringing the ghost of him into this.
Why is it so hard to talk about real-life things like this with people you’re getting to know?
Money, budgets, life plans should be easy conversations to have with someone you care about, especially someone whose mouth you’re sliding your tongue into several times a week, who you’re hoping will get to spend time with your kids too.
I exhale.
“So you gifting me jewelry made me a little uncomfortable because I would hate for someone to go into debt for me…” My voice trembles despite my best effort. “…but then I realized you probably didn’t.”
He shakes his head immediately, like there was never even a fraction of doubt. Because he didn’t.
“And you have the money to do things like that, right?” I risk a glance at him, bracing myself.
“I do.” He takes a minute, taking in all this information, drawing conclusions. “So it wasn’t the gift per se, just that it triggered that part of you.”
“Exactly.” The word leaves me on a shaky exhale. He didn’t minimize it.
His hand slides over, his thumb swiping slowly, deliberately, over my thigh. “That’s okay. Thank you for letting me know. I didn’t think about it that way.”
“You didn’t know.” My voice is soft now, emotion thick in my throat, but it’s out. I let it be known.
He smiles, squeezing my thigh as he continues to drive. “Completely unrelated to this, but if you ever want to chat business strategy, I’m happy to take a look.”
I open my mouth to refuse, but he beats me to it.
“And before you say you can’t ask that of me, you’re not asking. I’m offering. Let me know, ‘kay?”
“Okay.” This feels so easy—talking with him, highs and lows, hopes and fears, and I like how he’s solution-oriented. He’s actually good. Like, truly good. “Holden?”
Might as well say it.
“Yeah, Beauty?” The nickname lands warm in my heart, as it always does.
“I would like for you to meet my kids.”
My heart hammers.
“I already met them, remember?” he says lightly.
“Yeah, I mean…um, like, spend some time with them, getting to know them. We’re kind of a package deal, you know?”
“I know,” he replies.
“So, um, I would like for you to come over if you can, so we can hang out.” I hold my breath. So many things in this one conversation. What happened to baby steps, Nat?
“I would love that. Just tell me when.” His answer is immediate, protective in its certainty, and I feel like I can breathe again. I’m aware he knew about them, but hearing that he wants to spend time with them fills my heart with love.
“Mm, do you want to go get pizza or something after the game tomorrow?” I ask, hope threading through my nerves as my teeth dig into my lower lip.
“That sounds perfect.”
“Okay,” I say, smiling.
“Okay,” he echoes.
“Oh, and Holden?” Emotion surges unexpectedly, threatening to spill over.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For understanding.”
His hand tightens on my thigh. “Of course. Thank you for trusting me with your thoughts. I value them more than you know.”
The rest of the drive goes by in a flash, music playing in the background as we talk. His relationship with his dad is getting better and stronger. He wants to continue getting to know him—not the man who messed up all those years ago, but who he is now. I think it’s admirable.
“Are you seeing Jerry tomorrow?”
“For a bit before the game, yes.”
“Wanna come?” he asks, and I feel the heavy weight on my chest again.
I want to meet him. I want to get to know the people in Holden’s life. But is this too soon? Too fast? I guess he’s also hanging out with my girls, so it makes sense. Maybe I should.
“I actually work all day tomorrow. Ellie has the day off, and then I’m off Saturday. Maybe then?”
“He doesn’t have treatment on Saturday.”
I shrug. “Maybe we can bring him snacks or go play board games with him or something.”
He looks my way, considering me. I can’t read his expression, especially because it doesn’t last long, since he turns his attention back to the road.
“That would be nice.”
Okay, good. I like this. I’ve officially graduated from baby steps to toddler steps. Bella will be proud when I tell them.
He pulls up to the driveway, setting the car in park.
“Um, do you want to come inside?” I ask. “If you’re not too tired, that is. I can cook us dinner.”
“Where are your girls?”
“Oh, they’re having their last sleepover of the summer at Allie’s. That’s why I took my van to get looked at today, since I didn’t have to figure out car seats and all that. She’s taking them to camp in the morning too.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Yes, that sounds good.”
We stroll side by side in silence, straight to the kitchen.
“Pasta?” I ask, showing him a bag of flour and an egg. He throws a weary look my way, which I return with a smirk, asking, “Have you ever made pasta before?”