8. Olivia #3
“I don’t envy the current generation entering the workforce, let me tell you that.”
“Speaking of generations, which one exactly do you belong to?”
“Are you asking me how old I am?”
“Trying to,” I answered, wrinkling my nose. “Going about it a bit clunkily, though.”
“That’s all right, I don’t mind. The way you ask things amuses me.” Hey, better than annoying him. “And to answer your question, I turned thirty-seven a few months ago. Before I know it, I’m going to be forty.”
“What? You’re kidding me! You don’t look it. I thought you were my age.”
“Is that so? And what exactly is your age?”
“Just turned thirty last month. It’s what inspired me to re-evaluate the way I was allowing myself to be treated and what I really wanted out of my life.”
“Ah, I remember that particular birthday,” Keith said with a nod. “Does the age gap bother you, by the way?”
Age gap? Seven years was hardly a gap.
Then again, maybe I was thinking of it in a wolf way. Realistically speaking, the man across from me could already be halfway through his life whereas I likely had an entire century left to go.
That was kind of depressing.
Best not to think about that. Besides, I was just having fun. It wasn’t like I was making a lifelong commitment. Hell, I didn’t even know if there would be a second date.
I hoped there would be, but there was no guarantee.
Yet.
“No, I don’t mind at all,” I answered honestly, and I was saved from having to pontificate on that by the waitress returning with our drinks. Never had I been so grateful for such slow service, because not only was it allowing us plenty of time to talk, but also her timing was borderline uncanny.
With our drinks in hand, we ordered our entrees, and thankfully the conversation turned to things that didn’t remind me of the mortality of my date.
We discussed woodworking, my job in logistics with my family, some fun stories from his previous classes and some from the office.
It was light, and most importantly it was fun!
I’d never felt so capable, so normal in my life. It was easy to forget that this was my first romantic anything since college. I’d imagined I would be rustier, but either I remembered more than I thought, or talking to Keith was simply that easy. Personally, I was leaning toward the latter.
“You mentioned you were a middle child. How many siblings did you land in the center of?”
“I’m the fifth out of seven,” I answered matter-of-factly. I’d expected a reaction, but I hadn’t expected him to choke on his mocktail. Which, by the by, I hadn’t managed to steal a sip from yet.
Soon.
“I’m sorry, did you say seven?”
I nodded, resting my chin in my hand as I observed another procession of emotions across the man’s face. I didn’t know how he managed to be both incredibly handsome and kind of adorable at the same time, but he was great at it.
“I did.”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to act like it’s strange, I just can’t imagine what that’s like. Did you ever have any time to yourself?”
“In school, usually. There’s a seven-year difference between my eldest sibling and me, and for a while, it seemed like I’d be the youngest and my parents were done. But then, Massimo popped up eight years later, and Rolando seven years after that.”
He shook his head, his scent pleasant despite the slight tinge of shock at its edges. “Your parents must be superheroes.”
“I mean, I think so, but they actually decided to downsize from both of their families since they felt their parents were never really able to give enough attention to each of their kids.”
“Downsize? You’re fucking with me.”
It was a bit surprising to hear that kind of language from him, but it also put me at ease.
It seemed he was already growing more comfortable with me, and I definitely took that as a compliment.
“I absolutely am not. My father came from a family with nine other siblings and my mother is one of twelve.”
“Twelve? As in a dozen?”
“Unless there’s another definition for twelve that I’m not aware of?
” I answered, enjoying his incredulity. I was so used to the large families and packs that I’d forgotten how unusual it was in modern human society.
“She actually cut them off when she was sixteen. From what I understand, they were toxic.”
I actually knew quite a bit of what happened, but it wasn’t appropriate to discuss over dinner.
Besides, it wasn’t my trauma to tell. My mother had worked hard to move past a lot of the wounds from her childhood, and I would never stop being proud of her for it.
Perhaps that was why I’d always been so eager to make her life a little easier, because her beginning hadn’t been fair at all.
“Good for her. I can’t imagine. Going from having eleven other siblings to being utterly alone must have been a big transition. Clearly, you take after her.”
That had me blinking at him in confusion for a few moments. I didn’t mind the comparison, but I didn’t understand why he said it. “I do?”