8. Taran
Ihave never been more happy to have a Saturday off. This will be the first time I get to spend some real time with Lyra and hopefully get to know her more. It”s not lost on me that it must have taken a lot for her to invite me, and there was no way in hell I was turning her down if I could help it. It feels like there is this tightrope I”m walking. I want to make sure she continues to know I”m interested, but I also need to be chill and not scare her away. I”ve unfortunately never been that good at having any chill with people and things I like. I”m also nervous how it will go without loud music and dancing, or the excuse of delivering work to her to fuel our conversation. So I pull into the farmer”s market trying to push those nerves down.
It”s an incredible market with so much gorgeous produce. I”ve come here plenty of times to shop and it”s always a good selection. New Jersey is the Garden State for a reason. There are stalls upon stalls selling seasonal apples, broccoli, cauliflower, beets, cabbage, pumpkins, peppers, lettuce, mums, and so much more. I spot Lyra near the entrance taking a look at the produce in the first stall. For a minute, I simply watch her. She smiles at the vendor, asks a question that I can”t quite make out, and the vendor laughs and points at the cauliflower. When I start to walk toward her, she sees me and gives me a smile that looks a little shy and uncertain. It brightens though when I give her a huge smile back. She looks ridiculously pretty with her curls wild, jeans that hug her curves, ankle boots that have leopard print on them, and a really soft looking cream colored sweater. When we”re close enough I pull her into a big hug, and I swear I hear her sigh quietly. She smells like roses and apples, and I breathe her in shamelessly.
“Hey, it”s good to see you,” she says as she pulls back.
“Good to see you too, I”m glad you invited me,” I tell her as I rub her arms a little.
We fall into step, walking the path between the stalls. My hand goes to her lower back when she almost trips over an apple that fell on the ground.
“Have you ever been here before? I only discovered it last weekend and I love it,” she asks. She doesn”t remove my hand from her back, so I keep it there while we navigate around a few people.
“I love it too, I”ve been here plenty of times. I help my mom cook a lot since she”s alone.”
“Did you cook for her the other night when you texted me after dinner with her?”
“I made chicken parm that night, but it will never be like hers,” I say as I smile down at her.
She groans a little, and the sound goes right to where it shouldn”t in public. “Chicken parm is my favorite. Basically any Italian food is my favorite.”
I keep my voice low and bend closer to her ear when I tell her, “I’ll definitely make it for you sometime, but I”m going to need you to please not groan like that unless you want me to react embarrassingly.”
Her eyes flare, and she goes a little pink in the cheeks. She swats at me playfully, though. “Typical man, telling me what sounds I should and shouldn”t make,” she huffs quietly. She”s smirking a little as she says it, the little minx. Oh, she enjoys riling me up, huh?
I bend even closer and whisper right into her ear, “You can make any sounds you want, Firecracker, but no matter how much of a gentleman I try to be, I can”t help that you groaning makes me hard.”
Now I”m smirking as I watch her shiver, loving the effect I’m having on her as her eyes go a little dazed. I can be as patient as needed, but it”s good to know the attraction isn”t completely one sided. She gives her head a little shake, as if to clear up the daze.
“Well, getting each other hot and bothered won”t be a problem, then,” she murmurs quietly, as if to herself. It almost sounds like her voice goes a little British.
I lean in again and whisper. “Lyra, I know we”re keeping boundaries, but I”m still going to be honest that you”ve made me hot and bothered since the moment I saw you.”
Her head snaps up to look me in the eyes.
“Seriously?”
“Dead serious.”
She looks around, her eyes churning with some emotion I can”t identify. Finally she looks back at me.
“I have no idea how to respond to that. Nobody has ever told me I make them hot and bothered before, and I honestly don”t know whether to slap you or kiss you,” she huffs with a little smile.
“I would very much prefer the latter if I get any say.”
She shakes her head. “You”re absolutely shameless.”
I can”t help but laugh. “That may be, but it”s even more shameful that no one has ever said that to you before. Also, are you British? You almost sounded like it when you said getting each other hot and bothered won”t be a problem.”
Now she looks startled, and a little embarrassed. She sighs though and looks at me. “Sorry, I fall into it sometimes without thinking or when I”m nervous. I”m not British, but one of my favorite relatives growing up was. My great Aunt Jean. My Nonna”s brother was stationed in England during World War II, and she was his nurse when he got incredibly sick. They fell madly in love, and he brought his English rose home with him after the war.” Her smile is far away, remembering her great Aunt with so much fondness it stirs something in my chest. She continues after she looks at me, as if making sure I”m not bored. “The romance of it all just made me melt. I worshipped her. When I was little I could listen to her talk for hours and ended up mimicking her like a parrot.” She shrugs then. “It”s always stuck. I love British TV and movies, too. I can”t even tell you how many times I”ve watched the 1995 mini series version of Pride and Prejudice.”
“It was Colin Firth in that wet shirt, wasn”t it?” I tease.
She laughs a full laugh, head thrown back and everything. “Anyone attracted to men lives for that scene. I saw it years after it came out, when I was a teenager. It was my awakening.” She looks at me again then. “You must think I”m completely bizarre,” she says ruefully.
“It”s no more bizarre than my big brother wanting to be the next Michael Flatley from Riverdance, and then getting me into Irish dance too when I was old enough,” I tell her.
“I love that! I was obsessed with Riverdance when it came out, too. I need to see your Irish dancing sometime,” she says with a smile.
We lapse into a comfortable silence as we amble around and check out more stalls. I grab a bunch of apples since I love to snack on them. She picks up a couple of little pumpkins to decorate her front porch. It”s so ridiculously effortless and domestic that it feels like I”ve known her for years. It”s getting harder and harder to stay chill about how much I like being around her. Right as I”m having those lovely thoughts, I see her visibly lock up and go tense. I follow her line of sight and see a couple coming toward us, browsing just like we are.
“What”s wrong, you ok?” I ask her.
She shakes it off, but the tension is still there.
“Yeah, I”m fine. That”s my ex-husband and his new girlfriend coming toward us. I wasn”t thinking I”d run into them here, nor do I want to see them. Also, she”s pregnant,” she says in a hushed, quick whisper. I see her easy demeanor shrinking behind a wall as she says it. Her face goes blank instead of full of life like it was a minute ago. I fucking hate it.
Well, shit. My thoughts on how effortless this felt jinxed us. Her ex showing up is the sobering reminder that this woman is dealing with a lot, and does not need my flirting or other bullshit right now. She needs a steady friend. I got too caught up. Since Lyra stands out with her purple curls, it”s inevitable that her ex spots her. Then when he sees me next to her, his eyebrows hit his hairline. She”s so tense that I can”t help but move a little closer and give her a quick touch on her back to let her know I”m here for her. Her ex is almost to us, and I hear him clear his throat. When he comes to stand in front of us, he starts shifting from foot to foot a little.
“Um, hi Lyra. I didn”t know you started coming here.”
Lyra puts on a small smile, and lifts her chin a little in that way I’m growing to love.
“I just started coming here last weekend since I”ve moved closer.” Then she turns to the woman next to him and sticks her hand out.
“You must be Kayla. Nice to meet you. Congrats on your happy news.”
Kayla shakes her hand back, looking a little worried and awkward. “Thank you, Lyra. Nice to meet you, too. I”ve heard a lot about you.”
“I’m sure,” she says, keeping that smile plastered on before she turns to me.
“Taran, this is my ex Derek and his girlfriend Kayla.”
Derek puts his hand out, and I make sure I squeeze a little harder than necessary as I shake it. There”s a tension in his grip as he looks at me with intensity, and his jaw is clenched.
“Hey man, good to meet you,” I tell him. I can tell my smile is more like a baring of teeth.
“Likewise, Taran. Er, how long have you known Lyra?”
“We just met and became friends,” I reply with my tight smile still firmly in place.
He is eyeing me so suspiciously, as if he has any say in who Lyra can and can”t be friends with.
I see Lyra roll her eyes. “Seriously, Derek? Cut the pissing contest. Stop staring at my friend like that.”
Kayla chimes in then. “We should get going, Derek.” She grabs his hand and starts leading him away as she says, “It was nice to meet you both.”
Derek says the same, then adds, “I’ll be in touch this week, Lyra. I think everything in the contract is finalized and ready to sign.”
“Looking forward to it,” she replies sweetly. ”Nice to meet you, Kayla,” she adds more genuinely.
Lyra lets out a huge breath, but the tension stays in her body. She stares after them with a hollow expression as they walk away. Then she looks at me and lets out a bitter laugh.
“So that wasn”t at all awkward,” she says.
“Not in the least. You ok?”
She draws herself up and lifts her chin, same as when I asked her if she”d be ok last time. I don’t learn, apparently. This woman does not like showing weakness at all.
“I’m not going to sit here and crumble over my ex if that”s what you”re worried about.”
My eyes widen, taken aback by her assumption that I would care if she crumbled right now. I lean down to rub her shoulders and make sure to lock her gaze to mine. “Lyra, hey, it would be normal and totally ok if you did. I”m not worried about anything but you, though.”
She relaxes a little. “Thank you. I”ll be fine.”
“He seemed jealous. Maybe he still has feelings for you.” I”m not sure if it”s the right thing to say, it just came out because maybe she is hoping for a reconciliation after all. Bile goes up my throat at the thought, so that”s fun. I put my hand on her lower back and lead her around the corner and completely off to the side where it”s much less crowded so we can talk more privately.
She shakes her head vehemently at what I said when we get to the quiet corner. “He absolutely does not. If he feels anything, it”s because I”m the toy he discarded. He saw someone else interested, so all of the sudden I”m shiny and new. That”s all. He cheated on me, there is no going back with that level of betrayal. For fuck”s sake, he got her pregnant before we”ve even officially divorced. The hurt is still completely raw, all the same. This is why I can”t do anything more than friendship right now, ok? I can”t go into anything when I am still this messed up.” Her voice cracks on the last couple of words.
My heart splits down the middle for her as I see her chest start heaving and her eyes blinking rapidly, as if she is fighting tears. I put my hands back on her shoulders.
“Lyra, it”s ok. There is no pressure. We will just be friends and get to know each other. I”m here for you. Also, he is the biggest idiot I have ever met for doing that to you. I can”t even imagine treating someone like that.”
She sniffles a little. “I know he is. Like I said, I”ll be fine. It”s better for both of us, Kayla can give him what I never could, and I”m better off with someone who will do better by me.”
“Listen now, that”s my friend you”re talking about. What could Kayla possibly give him that you can”t? You”re an amazing person, Firecracker. I know that without question, and I”ve barely started to get to know you.”
“Children, Taran.” She practically hisses it, and I rear back trying to process what she”s saying. “She can give him children, and I can”t. That”s why he left me. He changed his mind about having them, and I didn”t. Once again, a woman”s worth is apparently decided by whether she wants to become a mother.”
“Lyra, no woman”s worth is determined by whether she wants to become a mother. That is an absolute fact,” I tell her firmly.
“Well, tell that to the rest of society,” she says, throwing her arms out. “I’m good with not wanting to be a mother. I can”t have them myself, and I have no desire to go through the financial and emotional hoops of adoption, egg donation, or surrogacy. I”ve never really wanted to be one, anyway. I like my life. I like to live quietly and without chaos since I have had enough chaos for several lifetimes.” Her voice is steady and so impassioned as she talks and gestures.
“The idea of having a small human being so dependent on me 24/7, constantly needing my attention and guidance, gives me hives. I can barely guide myself through life, let alone guide an innocent child. I like doing what I want when I want to. Between my siblings and my best friend I have seven nieces and nephews, and being the wine auntie is grand. I love them to pieces, but at the end of the day I can go home to peace and quiet.” She takes a breath before continuing.
“Women who don”t want their own children are so harshly judged. They”re labeled selfish, even today in 2023. It”s so disheartening to be judged like that solely on your own personal choices that have nothing to do with others. Then you learn your own ex-husband doesn”t fully support this choice anymore, after numerous conversations, and you don”t find that out until he leaves you because of it.”
Her breaths are coming rapidly now, and her eyes are filled with more emotions than I could possibly count. I swear the fathomless depths of those big green eyes could hold the secrets of the universe. I’ve been trying to quietly listen, but I need to comfort her now.
“Lyra, come here.” I step toward her and envelop her. She sags in my arms and quietly cries into my chest.
“We have to stop meeting like this. Here I am crumbling when I said I wouldn’t,” she says brokenly.
I run my hand up and down her back in soothing patterns and she gathers herself enough to step away and wipe her eyes.
“Thank you, for hugging me through my tears, yet again,” she says with a watery half smile.
“That”s what friends do, Firecracker.”
“Listen, I think I need to get home. I”m going to take Brody out on a long walk and just think through a lot of things, ok? I”m sorry to cut this short.”
My heart sinks, but she clearly needs some space. “Alright. I”ll text you soon, ok?”
“Ok.” Then she clearly is working something through in her head before she takes a step toward me, and looks at me so solemnly right in the eyes.
“Taran, I also need you to please really sit and think. If you still want to seriously date me down the road, I need you to be ok with my baggage. I don”t do casual, and I don”t want to have us possibly get serious, only for you to realize you want to be a dad and leave.” Her voice quavers a little as she says the last sentence. “I can”t go through that again. We can still be friends if you realize you want that, there”s no pressure. I can”t go beyond friendship if we want different things out of life, and I just want to be crystal clear up front.”
With that, she turns and walks swiftly away to her car, leaving me reeling. I appreciate her honesty. I get what she”s saying, and there is a whole lot to unpack from our conversation. Holy shit did this really nice morning at the farmer”s market take a turn, though. I”m not a violent person by any means, but I would love a good excuse to punch her ex. Watching her walk away like this is just a tease of what it would be like to lose her, and it already hurts. We both clearly have a lot of thinking to do, because she is not the only one at risk of a broken heart here.