1
Brandon
I’m a bundle of nerves driving to Annie’s birthday party.
She’s twenty-seven today, which means that from now until November we are only seven years apart—which really isn’t too big of a gap.
I’m seriously considering asking her out .
. . in the next month or so . . . eventually.
It would be my first first date in more than a decade.
As a younger man, romance was second nature to me, but to say that I’m rusty would be an understatement.
Petrified is a more fitting word. Both meanings—frozen in place and terrified—describe where I’m at.
I’m not that afraid of rejection; I have been walking around with a battered heart for nearly a decade.
What I’m concerned about is Pepper’s tender heart.
She loves Annie, and I’m not certain if she could handle it if things with Annie and me didn’t work out.
My therapist reminds me that my daughter is a very mature ten-year-old, and it’s time I stop using her as an excuse for forming any new relationships.
Am I using Pepper as an excuse? Maybe . .
. but it’s harder to date as a single father.
To begin with, I need to arrange for a babysitter.
Hanging out with Annie and Pepper, as comfortable as that may be, does not count as a date.
And Annie deserves an intentional courtship. She deserves romance.
“I can’t wait to give Annie her gift,” Pepper says from the back seat. “She’ll love it. Don’t you think she’ll love it?”
“Yeah,” I agree. I spent way too much time contemplating Annie’s birthday gift.
Initially, I wanted to give her a jade ring that she was eyeing in an antique shop in Monterey last summer.
On impulse, I returned later that week and bought it.
I still have it in my sock drawer. I told myself I’d give it to her for Christmas, but when the holidays rolled around a ring seemed like too serious of a gift for a friend.
Instead, I kept it impersonal and gave the whole family a set of hand-thrown mugs that Pepper picked out and a new cappuccino maker to match.
I told myself that I’d give Annie the ring for her birthday, but now her birthday is here, and it still feels like too much.
So we’re giving her a stuffed animal otter that Pepper picked out.
One of our first outings together was kayaking in the preserve to see otters.
We didn’t see any that day except maybe in the far distance.
Annie swore they were otters, but when I looked, all I could see was kelp.
I’m also throwing in a pair of really good binoculars, which actually cost more than the ring, but somehow, they feel more platonic.
“You know what she would really like?” asks Pepper.
“Um . . . no.”
“For you to ask her out.”
“Excuse me?” There’s no way I heard that right.
“Annie definitely wants you to ask her out.”
“You can’t know that.” The AC is on full blast, but I feel myself begin to sweat.
“J.J. agrees with me. She said Annie normally goes from one guy to the next, but she hasn’t dated anyone since Hunter left last August. And that’s because she wants to date you.”
“When were you and J.J. discussing this?”
“When we visited Norland Park for spring break.”
Since we met the Greenwoods, all of our vacations and most of our weekends have been spent at Norland Park.
Yes, I own the place, and I can claim that I visit frequently for business, but the rest of the property I own doesn’t get this much attention.
Pepper can’t get enough of the rustic resort. And I can’t get enough of Annie.
“I don’t even want to know what J.J. told you.”
“Just what I said—Annie hasn’t dated anyone because she’s hoping you’ll ask her out.”
Could that be possible? I like the thought—a little too much.
“What . . . what would you think if I dated Annie?”
“Everyone knows how I feel about that, Dad.”
“So . . . you’d like it. But what if it doesn’t work?”
“Then we’ll deal with it. But it will work.
Because Annie likes you nearly as much as you like her.
” Oof! Does everybody know how I feel about Annie?
I’ve tried my best to play it cool. Though I may have shown my cards when I bought Norland Park last year.
It really is a good investment, and of course, Pepper loves the place.
But honestly, I knew it would break Annie’s heart to lose the scenic property where she grew up, and I couldn’t let that happen. Clearly, I’m a goner.
“So . . . let’s say I do this. When should I ask her out?”
“Tonight,” Pepper says immediately.
“Tonight? But we’re going home tomorrow.”
“Ask her out for next weekend, silly. Grandma can watch me.”
“Doesn’t it make more sense if I wait until we’re staying at Norland Park in July?”
“No! Do you know how many guys flirt with her? J.J. says random guests invite her to dinner or drinks all the time, and I’ve seen it happen when she’s working at the cafe. You can’t expect her to wait forever.”
The rest of the drive I’m silent, lost in thought.
Could Pepper be right? Could Annie really be interested in dating me?
There have been moments that I thought maybe .
. . she certainly delights in teasing me.
But Annie is naturally warm and friendly with everyone she meets.
I can’t be sure that she’s interested in me.
We pull up outside Bumble Cottage in the late afternoon. Annie’s in the garden, the lowering sun highlighting her red curls so they glow like fire. She’s wearing a white tank top and a blue billowy skirt that moves like water as she runs up to Pepper.
“You’re here! Now the party can really begin!” She takes both of Pepper’s hands, and they twirl around laughing. “Nice hair . . .” She says admiring the double Dutch braids in Pepper’s hair, tied with pink bows. “And Brandon . . .” Her green eyes dart to mine. “Look at you. You dressed up.”
I glance briefly at my clothes, shorts and a short sleeve linen button down.
Annie walks over and taps the top button.
“I only ever see you in t-shirts. I wasn’t sure you even knew how to use buttons.
” I roll my eyes. “But seriously, you look nice.” Her finger remains pressed against my sternum.
I’m doing everything I can to appear unfazed by her touch.
“I try,” I mumble.
“And you succeeded. Did you trim your beard?” Her hand flies up to my face.
Her fingers resting on my cheek sends my whole body on high alert.
She clasps her hands together in a dramatic gesture.
I can breathe now that she’s not touching me.
“I know what I want for my birthday. Brandon,” she says my name with a playful entreaty.
“Would you please, please, pretty please let me put flowers in your beard?”
“I already got you a gift,” I say, knowing full well that, yes, I will cave and let Annie put flowers in my beard.
“It will be fun.” No, it will be sweet torture.
“Yes! It could match my crown,” adds Pepper.
Annie picks a flower from the garden and slips it in my breast pocket. “This will do for now.” She pats my chest. Is Annie flirting with me? That extra touch definitely seemed intentional. Is Pepper right? Could Annie really want to date me? The thought fills me with terrifying hope.
Half-dazed, I follow her and Pepper as they run ahead to the cottage.
I leave Annie’s birthday gifts on the coffee table in the front room, then meet Annie and Pepper in the kitchen, where they’re busy selecting flowers for their flower crowns.
Annie’s mom, Maggie, is dredging meat in flour for her famous fried chicken, while her older sister, Elinor, puts the finishing touches on the birthday cake.
“You made it!” she says to me as she places a berry on the cake. “How long are you staying?”
“We’re leaving tomorrow morning. Pepper has school.”
“I wanted to ditch,” says Pepper.
“You miss enough school,” I say. I worry that I take Pepper out of school too much.
I travel a lot, and I like to take my daughter with me, but there’s a fine line between staying connected with Pepper and promoting truancy.
It’s exactly the sort of thing that would be nice to discuss with a partner
Drying her freshly washed hands, Maggie walks over to me and gives me a big hug. “So glad you could make it.” Her red curls flecked with silver are piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Someday Annie’s hair will probably look like that. I hope I’m around to see it go gray.
“Wouldn’t miss this.” I hand Maggie a box of chocolates.
“What, for me?” she asks, delightedly eyeing the handcrafted truffles.
“You did give birth to Annie. You deserve at least some of the celebration today.”
“You’re too sweet,” Maggie says with real pleasure as she opens the box. “Mmm . . . good. Thank you!” she says around the chocolate she popped in her mouth.
“That’s really thoughtful,” Annie says from the other end of the room where she and Pepper are assembling flower crowns on the kitchen table. “I’ve got to remember that next year and give mom flowers.”
“I considered flowers,” I say. “But I figured this place is always teeming with them.” Annie has an amazing flower garden and supplies all the flowers at the resort. She has a real gift with flowers. It would be hard to buy an arrangement as pretty as the ones she makes.
“True . . .” says Annie. “The chocolates were a good idea. But you can never have too many flowers.”
“Duly noted.” I’m tempted to ask Annie what her favorite flower is, but I’m feeling uncomfortably exposed right now.
I’m unravelling over Pepper’s suggestion that I ask Annie out tonight.
I can’t stop thinking about it, and my thoughts are so loud and relentless, it’s hard to believe that not everyone in the room can hear them. “Is there something I can do to help?”
“Yes! please!” says Annie. “Could you get the folding table out of the carriage house?”
“No problem.”