3
Brandon
“You’re wearing that?” Pepper asks with a heavy dose of disdain.
“What’s wrong with this?” I’m not going to the office today, so I’m wearing my softest pair of shorts and my Dartmouth Lacrosse t-shirt.
“It looks like you just took it out of the hamper and threw it on with no thought.”
“What? It’s clean—and I thought about it,” I say pointing to my favorite lucky t-shirt.
“I thought I’d like to be comfortable. I’m already anxious enough as it is.
” I invited Annie to stop by for lunch after her job interview today.
It’s been two weeks since I last saw her sitting on the couch with her ankle propped up.
I delayed our trip home that morning because, after a tongue-lashing from my ten-year-old, I realized I needed to man up and ask Annie out.
I was just gearing up to ask her to dinner when that guy sauntered in.
When Annie asked why I had stopped by, I had to make something up on the spot.
My mom had mentioned that her friend Susan might be looking for a long-term sub at her private school, but at the time, I had no idea if that was still true.
Fortunately, Susan hadn’t filled the spot, and with my mom’s good word, Annie got an interview.
She’ll get the job, I know it. Annie can charm anyone, and she’s a gifted teacher.
The thought of Annie moving to Redwood City . . . I can’t even think about it. I want it too much. I want her too much. Of course, she might be dating that pretty boy. Hopefully, he’s sailed far away and is doing his soul searching somewhere else.
“Chill, Dad. It’s just Annie. You don’t have to worry. She already likes us. She already likes you. Don’t ruin everything by freaking out.”
“Then maybe I should stay in what makes me comfortable.”
“Those shorts are fine, but not that shirt. It’s older than I am, and it has holes.”
“Just two tiny ones.” She gives me a look. “Fine, you pick out a shirt for me, but I retain veto power.”
“Hand over your shirt.” Pepper holds out her hand to me.
“What—now?”
“Yes! I’m not going to risk having Annie see you in that abomination.”
“It’s not that bad,” I say, taking off my shirt.
“It is! There’s ‘vintage’—and then there’s this shirt. Besides, it smells funny, even straight from the wash.” Pepper’s exaggerating, but that shirt has probably seen better days. “I’ll be right back.”
“Hurry up! Annie texted that she’s on her way,” I say, but Pepper is already off. I throw on my apron and get to work.
The menu for today is grilled cheese, homemade tomato soup, salad, and my brown butter Rice Krispie treats.
We are sticking with tried-and-true winners.
The soup and salad are both ready. All I have left are the sandwiches.
While I wait for the griddle to warm up, I butter the bread and put on the three types of cheese: sharp cheddar, gruyere, and mozzarella.
The table is set with a bouquet of flowers Pepper arranged from my mom’s garden. “It needs to be extra elegant,” she told my mom when we got the flowers yesterday, “because dad wants to marry Annie!”
“Um no . . . let’s not put the cart before the horse. I’m just thinking about asking her out.”
“I wondered if there was a woman involved when you bought that resort,” my dad commented.
“I bought it for Pepper, and it’s going to be a great investment. You’ll see.”
“I never said it wouldn’t—I just suspected there was more to it when you moved so fast to buy that property. This Annie must really be something.”
I couldn’t answer. Fortunately, Pepper was more than happy to jump in.
“She’s the most kindred of kindred spirits. I can’t wait for you to meet her.” Pepper’s been reading Anne of Green Gables and thinks Annie is just like her favorite main character. So, no pressure . . .
“I can’t wait,” my mom replied a little too eagerly. “Any chance I can join your lunch?”
“Maybe next time. We don’t want to overwhelm her,” I responded quickly. “And don’t get your hopes up. For all I know, Annie could be dating someone.”
That quieted my mom somewhat, though I’m still worried she’ll make a guest appearance. For the most part, I love living on the same street as my parents. As a single parent, it’s ideal. But now that I’m thinking of dating again, I realize it could be seen as a drawback.
I test the griddle to see if it’s hot enough by throwing a little water on it. It sizzles, telling me it’s ready to go. I carefully put three sandwiches on.
The doorbell rings.
Annie’s here.
I hurry to the door like I’m worried she’ll disappear if I don’t get there fast enough. I don’t know why I’m nervous. This isn’t a date, but something about having Annie in my home for the first time has me buzzing with adrenaline.
Seeing Annie on my doorstep, all my worries evaporate. Just being near her makes me happy. “You made it!” I say, waving the spatula I’m still holding.
“Yes . . .” Her mouth is slightly ajar and her eyes are wide with surprise. “And . . . you’re . . . not wearing anything but an apron?”
“Oh!” I glance down at myself. My shorts are shorter than my apron. “Sorry! I forgot that I wasn’t wearing a shirt.”
“It’s a look,” Annie says, smiling and shaking her head in amusement.
“Not the one I was going for, I swear. Pepper didn’t like the shirt I was wearing.
” I glance behind me hopeful of seeing both my daughter and a shirt.
“I don’t know where she went.” I wave Annie in with the spatula.
“Make yourself at home. I need to check on the grilled cheese.” I hurry back to the kitchen just in time to flip the sandwiches.
“I have two options,” Pepper says, carrying a couple shirts. “Oh Annie!” She drops my shirts on a kitchen chair and hugs Annie. “You’re finally here! I have so much to show you.”
I inspect the shirts Pepper brought and select my softest blue button-down.
“You wouldn’t believe how much flannel he has in that closet,” Pepper says to Annie as I take off my apron.
I can feel Annie staring at me, and I put on the new shirt, fumbling a little with the buttons.
I roll up the sleeves, and my eyes snag hers.
She swiftly looks away. I rush back to the sandwiches, which thankfully are perfectly golden brown.
A glop of gooey cheese melts out the side and hits the griddle with a sizzle.
***
With my shirt on, lunch plated, and Annie sitting across from me beaming, I’m feeling much saner. Why was I even worried? It’s Annie. She’s prattling on with Pepper while I quietly soak it all in. Seeing her again is like feeling the sun after a long, cold winter.
“Everyone was so nice,” she says about the interview. “Though I do think your mom may have oversold me. They were surprised to hear I had no classroom experience.”
“What about your poetry classes?” I ask.
“It’s different leading a discussion with tourists who choose to come to a poetry class than teaching eighth graders just checking off an English requirement.”
“If Annie’s hired, can I switch to that school?” Pepper asks.
“Changing schools is no fun. I don’t think you’d like it.”
“And I might not get the job,” says Annie.
“Of course you’ll get the job,” says Pepper. “Who wouldn’t want you at their school?”
“Well, we’ll see,” Annie says, picking up the other half of her grilled cheese.
“That’s a pretty ring.” Pepper points to a ring on Annie’s right hand, a gold band with a round milky white stone.
“Thank you! It’s a moonstone.”
“Who gave it to you?” Pepper asks. Annie blushes, and I know instantly I’m not going to like her answer.
“It’s from Jack.”
”Jack?” I ask. “The Jack I met? So . . . I gather he’s still in town.”
“Yes, Jack Willoughby,” Annie sets her sandwich down. “We’re kind of dating.”
“He’s your boyfriend?” Pepper’s eyes flash to mine.
She looks so disappointed—I probably should have warned her.
I knew there was a strong possibility Annie would be dating that guy, but I didn’t have the heart to tell Pepper.
Probably because I didn’t know how to talk about Jack without revealing the depth of my feelings.
And yes, Pepper has a pretty good idea how I feel about Annie.
She wasn’t far off when she told my mom that I wanted to marry her.
But still, I prefer to keep my hopes and disappointments to myself.
The only thing that can make a bad situation worse is other people’s pity.
I know: I’ve been dealing with the pity of strangers for years.
That’s partly why I didn’t tell an eager Pepper about Jack when I came back to the car that morning after meeting him.
“So . . . how did it go?” she had asked as soon as I slid into the driver’s seat.
“I chickened out.”
“Dad!”
“Someone else was there. Trust me, it would have been weird. But I did tell her about a job possibility in Redwood City.”
“Annie! Get a job in Redwood City! That would be the dream! And so much easier for you to date her. Good thinking.”
So Pepper’s spent the last two weeks building castles in the air, while I haven’t had the heart to tell her that Annie might have a boyfriend.
I’ve been secretly hoping that this guy would be long gone, though it was some serious wishful thinking on my part.
I saw Annie’s face when he walked into the room.
What I wouldn’t give for her to look at me like that.
“Yes, Jack,” Annie says, her eyes fixed on the ring on her finger. I think about the jade ring I wanted to give her for her birthday. The one I thought I had no right to give her. To think she has known this guy for what? Two weeks?
“It’s been a whirlwind,” she continues. “He decided to stay in Big Sur a little longer while his boat is in dry dock. He sweet talked J.J. into reserving him one of the larger cottages we’re not renting out this summer.”
I should fire J.J.
“Will he be there when we come to visit?” asks Pepper.
She has been looking forward to another vacation like last summer, but now that Annie has a boyfriend, there’s no way she’ll have time for a ten-year-old.
Pepper’s going to be so disappointed. I should have never let Annie spend so much time with us.
“I don’t know,” Annie looks up with her warm smile. “But don’t worry, we’ll still go on all our adventures.” Later, I’ll be sure to tell Pepper to lower her expectations.
“So, how did you meet Mr. Wilbur?” Pepper asks innocently. I’m positive that slip up was intentional; I’m heartened by my daughter’s loyalty.
“Funny story . . . I met him on my birthday when we went night swimming.”
Now Pepper is glaring at me. “I told you—you should have gone, Dad.”
“I would have only been in the way.”
“I don’t know about that,” Annie says. She looks a little uncomfortable, and some emotion I can’t name crosses her face.
It’s not the pity I expect. It’s closer to anger, which makes no sense.
Annie smiles tightly. “That was a great meal. Pepper didn’t exaggerate; you do make the best grilled cheese sandwiches in the universe. ”
“It’s about all I can make.”
“Wait till you try his Rice Krispie treats. They are scrumdiddlyumptious.”
“That is such a good word,” says Annie. “And it’s endangered because there are not enough scrumdiddlyumptious foods to eat.”
“So true,” says Pepper, the hurt in her eyes fading fast.
“How about you show me your room and then we try these scrumdiddlyumptious Rice Krispie treats?”
“Yes! Now you have to see my Narnia closet.”
“Can’t wait,” Annie says, as she gets up to clear her place. She’s not wearing her typical tank top and flowy skirt. She has on a navy dress that is still longish but feels retro. I’m guessing she borrowed it from Elinor.
“I’ll do the dishes while you give her the tour,” I say, taking Annie’s plate from her.
“No, Daddy, you have to come too. After all, you’re the one who made the Narnia closet.”
“Annie doesn’t need me for the tour.” I don’t like the thought of being in such tight quarters with Annie—I’m not a fan of torture. “I can just clean up down here.”
“Please!” Annie turns her full smile on me. And I know immediately that I’ll cave. “I want to hear about how you made it. I’ll help with dishes later.”
“Fine, I’ll come with you guys. But you’re not doing dishes.” I follow them upstairs.
For the first time in months, possibly years, Pepper’s room is spotless. If I’d known having Annie visit was the secret to getting her to clean her room, I would have invited her much sooner.
Pepper opens the large antique wardrobe I purchased just for this project. The closet is filled with costumes—a princess dress, a pink fur coat, a fireman’s jacket. On the top shelf is a selection of hats, a box of sunglasses, and a feather boa.
Annie goes right for the tiara, which she accessorizes with a pair of sunglasses.
“I feel so glamorous,” she says admiring her reflection in the mirror on the inside of the wardrobe’s door. “This closet is amazing.” Annie’s teasing Pepper a little. She knows there’s more to the closet than costumes.
“Wait till you see the rest!” An impatient Pepper pulls a cherry wood footstool up to the wardrobe “Climb in.”
Annie disappears into the armoire with Pepper following right behind.
“This is incredible!” Annie exclaims from inside the closet.
I’m still standing in Pepper’s spotless room.
“Brandon! You really made this?” Annie calls out.
“It’s marvelous. You’re a genius.” Okay, so Pepper was right.
I’m glad I tagged along. I rather enjoy hearing Annie lavish such praise on my passion project.
I follow them inside the wardrobe and enter a magical world—also known as the attic crawlspace I transformed into a reading nook for Pepper.
I built and installed the shelves, lining them with books and toys, and painted a mural of white aspen trees on one wall and a stormy sea on another. I loved creating this space for Pepper.
“This is utterly enchanting.” Annie gazes up at the ceiling filled with twinkle lights. I could say the same for the expression on her face. Utterly enchanting.
“And you painted the mural?” she asks. I nod.
“I had no idea you were such an artist.” She’s looking at me with pure admiration.
There’s not much space in this secret room built in the eaves, and she’s standing inches from me.
My head is bent down so I don’t hit my head on the low beam, forcing our faces so close it feels like the moment before a kiss.
I edge away to get some space and bump into the closed door of the wardrobe.
That’s when I realize Pepper is no longer in the room.
I’ve been too busy watching Annie. I have no idea when my daughter left.
I twist the knob. It’s locked. I try again. Nothing. I pound on the door.
“Pepper, this is not funny. Let us out!”
Silence. I knock again.
I collapse on one of the large velvet beanbags. “It would appear that my daughter has parent-trapped us.”