56
I was not wrong about the messages.
A few from my sisters and Dad. Many from Jenn who is desperate for an update. But only one text came from Adam. Holding my breath, I tap on our conversation.
Adam: [Link: Lyric Video Mumford and Sons I Will Wait ]
Nope! Nope nope nope not listening to that.
I know the song. It’s not a ballad, and I don’t remember all the lyrics but I get his meaning. I start to swoon the tiniest bit, in the back of my mind. But then I see the notifications on my Instagram. I don’t normally spend much time on social media because my assistant monitors it for me, but today I want to look.
I want to look at Adam’s new, shiny life. Okay, not life, business. Still, this beautiful gorgeous thing he went and built alone in secret. I didn’t even ask him who his clients are. How does he have so many orders already? How long has he been dreaming this up? How long has he been in business? Is he profitable alread—
No.
No! I’m not going to get invested in a dream that clearly has nothing to do with me. It’s his thing. He doesn’t need me Susan-ing it.
I am about to close the app when I have an idea.
I decide to text Skye and only Skye about it. And maybe I’ll discuss the thought with Jenn when I get in. I shoot my message to my sister and then start my morning routine. I’m climbing into my car to go get the boys when Skye’s reply comes through.
Skye: Yes. I love it. Do it.
_____
“I agree with Skye, surprisingly.”
I snort. “Not surprisingly. You’re the same person.”
Jenn narrows her eyes at me and then concedes, “If you’re saying I’m young and creative and brilliant, I’ll take it.”
“Oh yes, that’s exactly what I meant.” I wink obnoxiously.
“I just cannot believe that asshole tricked you. I mean you had deep conversations! You blushed! You giggled! I was there!”
“I know,” I sigh.
“Are you sure you don’t want to give Thor one more shot?”
I laugh, “We agreed Dane’s nickname was Man Bun. And definitely not.”
“Too young?”
“Too…free spirited, maybe? He was debating going to teach at a week-long surfing retreat that he’d already committed to. Hard pass.”
“And what didn’t you like about Reid?”
“Way too stiff. Didn’t get my references, Friends or Forrest Gump or The Office. ” She rolls her eyes and I know she’s about to tell me to get a better hobby than TV and Movies.
“You know Reid has a friend,” she starts thinking aloud. Then she pulls up a photo and shows it to me. The man looks like a hot mafioso that could pose as a model for one of Lori’s book covers. “This iiis Emmett? Eric? Elton?”
“Oh I hope not. What an unfortunate name, I’d just hum lyrics at him all night long.” We laugh. “Enough about my melodrama of a life, I’ve dominated our last three lunches. What’s new with Mr. Wrong?”
I see her shoulders sag before she tries to play it off. “Nothing new. I’m trying to move on. I met someone new at the fundraiser last week actually.”
“Oh yeah?”
“He’s my age, divorced but no kids, funny, charming.”
I lean in, “Finally! Have you gone out yet?”
“He’s called a couple times but I haven’t committed to a date yet.”
“Because?” I draw out the word.
“No good reason, actually. I’ll message him now.” She pulls out her phone. “Get out your phone too. Did Skye have any creative ideas on what to say?”
I shake my head. “She didn’t, but I figure I’ll keep it simple.”
We both smile as we start typing. My smile fades a lot faster than hers though. Because I might have really lost it this time. I might be full on mid-life-crisis-ing. Actually, I’m too young for that. I’m post-divorce-crisis-ing.
Still, I know I want to do this. I want to just see. To try.
Time for me to have a little fun.
_____
Susan: Why did I think this would be fun?!
Susan: I am not having fun!
Skye: LOL
Skye: I think it might start to be fun if you get out of your car
She’s right, of course. But I’m paralyzed. Another day without a word from Adam. Just another song last night. A funny one, Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepson. It made me smile for a second. Until I envisioned him sending it from his workshop…where he probably messaged me a dozen times as his secret alias. I locked my phone and flopped into my sheets for another sleepless night.
I check my reflection in the mirror and put on a little more lipstick. At the contact, my mind conjures up my dream last night which is just seriously unfair of my brain right now. Adam was kissing me, hard, but then when he pulled away he said Sooner89’s words. Or, his words, I guess.
Greatest fear? Probably being too late.
I wasted a lot of years…
I can’t believe how much you do/coordinate/schedule/plan for your family…
talking to you is bliss…
Sweetheart.
I can’t think about that now. I shouldn’t think about it at all. It wasn’t real. It was…manufactured. I put my hand on my door handle. This is very real. I hop out of my car and walk up to the tables.
“Susan!” Pearce calls to me before I reach the food truck.
“Hey!” I smile at him.
He walks up to me and stalls, unsure of how to greet me. I open up for a hug. We both laugh and embrace lightly.
“Gosh, wow, you look amazing. Don’t you know you’re supposed to age?” he says as we pull away from each other.
“Aw, you’re sweet, thank you.”
“Thank you for coming, I’m so glad you thought to say hello while you were in the city,” he says, one hundred percent still the sweet guy who was a little scared of me and a lot enamored with me all those years ago. He’s got some fine lines, some grays at his temples. He’s tall and thin. He looks great.
“Me too.” I turn toward his food truck. “Congrats on this, by the way, you’re all over Instagram.”
“Well, as are you, I mean, you’re famous now. Did all the things you always said you would,” he replies. He’s kind of gushing. It’s…cute?
“So did you, wasn’t a restaurant always the plan?”
“Yes, but I tried that. Twice. Didn’t take. The trucks seem to be a hit. We have one more being outfitted now.”
“Wow, congratulations, that’s exciting.”
He looks behind me. “Did you bring the kids? Adam?”
“Oh, no, we’re separated,” I say. He nods. I’m sure he might have assumed since I slid into his DMs on Instagram out of the blue. “Long time now, just hasn’t gone public yet.”
“Sorry, that’s tough,” he says softly, genuinely concerned for me.
“Thanks,” I reply, feeling awkward.
“Well, come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.” I nod and follow his lead. As we walk around the picnic tables to the other side of the truck, he puts his hand on the small of my back. It’s a move, I know. And it doesn’t feel bad…it just, doesn’t feel…right. Man Bun and Reid did the same thing.
I thought Pearce’s touch might feel different since I know him. I know he’s a great guy. I know he’s sweet and funny and definitely still into me.
But, not a spark to be found.
Still, I enjoy my tour. Pearce is funny and self-deprecating and great with food puns. And truck puns. He’s kind of a walking dad joke but I’m not sure he’s being ironic about it.
“What are you in the mood for? We have a bit of everything, except a traditional tex-mex taco, of course.” He laughs. He makes artisan, fusion tacos.
“I wanted to try the chicken and waffle from the photos on your feed.”
“Ah, yes that’s a favorite. A number 12 please, Taylor.” He looks back at me expectantly.
I look at the menu again. “And I guess whatever you recommend? Chef’s special?”
“I hoped you’d say that. Emma, may I?”
“Yes, chef!” his other employee says happily.
I watch Pearce put on gloves and wag his eyebrows at me. He makes a show of everything he does, but he goes so fast I don’t catch which shell, meat, toppings or sauce he chooses. He puts his creation in a little paper wrapper and then folds the wrapper out. He turns and holds the taco forward.
Oh.
Oh he’s going to feed me.
I lean in and take a very ungraceful bite that I’m sure looks—
Holy crap on a cracker. No, on a taco.
My eyes get huge. “Wha is yis?”
“My take on cashew chicken.”
“It’s unreal!” I say as I wipe the corner of my mouth.
His eyes sparkle at me as he watches me chew. Then his eyes change color slightly, and I think…oh man, I think he’s turned on.
Those same eyes go wide as I choke.
I’m choking.
I’m choking!
“Here!” He hands me a water bottle. I focus on inhaling, cough in some air, then take a swig and calm myself. “You all right?” he asks, one hand on my back.
“Yes, sorry, wow.” I take another drink. “It was just so good I guess I tried to breathe it in.”
He laughs, “Come, we’ll take these and a couple others out to a table.”
“Okay,” I say. I don’t miss that his hand doesn’t leave my back as he assembles a plate and then walks me back out. I think I’m getting used to his touch? Maybe?
We sit and as the sun sets, we talk. I remember, as we easily share stories and eat and laugh, why I thought Pearce would be such a catch way back when. He never asked me out, but I would’ve said yes. Pre-Adam, of course. After an hour of chatting, I look at my watch for the first time.
“Time to get back to Tulsa?” he asks.
“Yes, gotta relieve the babysitter,” I say as I stand.
“Here, let me,” he takes our trash and then joins me on the short walk to my car.
We both talk at the same time.
“Well—”
“Susan—”
I smile, “Go ahead.”
“I was just going to say I hope this isn’t too forward but, if you’re available, could I take you to dinner sometime? A real restaurant, not a truck,” he clarifies. A tiny thrill runs through me. He’s asking me out, for real.
“I’d like that, but I’m sure the food won’t be as good.”
He blushes. It’s adorable. “Is that a no?”
“No! No, that’s a yes. I’ll DM you my number,” I stammer.
“Great, it’s a date,” he says but his eyebrows make me think he’s asking me.
I turn and put my hand on my car so he doesn’t try to hug me or kiss me but I confirm, “Yes, it’s a date.”
He beams, but I feel guilty as the words come out of my mouth. Which is ridiculous! I can date. I have dated. I’ve been dating. So why is this any different? It’s not.
It’s not.
That’s what I tell myself all the way home.
I’m so flustered and confused when I pull in the garage I don’t notice that Loretta’s car isn’t in the driveway.
“Loretta?” I call as I enter the mudroom.
“It’s me,” Adam says, his voice rough.
I stop in my tracks in the kitchen. He’s walking in from the living room portion of the open space, looking huge and sleepy and mussed up. He must’ve fallen asleep on the couch again. Ugh, he’s just really, really hot.
“What happened?”
His features soften, “Oh, nothing, I just drove by and saw her car still here at eight and offered to relieve her.”
“Oh,” I say.
“Where were you,” he smiles, “hot date?”
I try not to react but my body betrays me. I cough on a breath and my eyes try to pop right out of the front of my body and escape this situation.
“Wait, y-you were? I was, I was joking.” His nostrils flare and I catch his jaw clench before he tries to relax. He clears his throat. “So, you’re…still…dating people?”
“I think?” I say, my voice squeaky.
“Well, that is just great,” he grits out sarcastically.
I sigh, frustration pouring out of me. “You know what, Adam? I was going to talk to you about it. You can’t just barge in here and take over for Loretta. I wasn’t prepared for this.” I motion between us.
He inhales, then nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” I’m taken aback by his simple apology and he can tell. “I didn’t think about it, I just thought I could play with the boys a minute before bed and honestly, I just wanted to see you.”
I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say.
He puts his hands in his pockets. “I’ll ask next time, okay?” I nod and he studies me for a moment. “So. Dating.”
“I…” I shake my head, unsure of what to say. I study the tile floor.
“Hey, you don’t owe me an explanation. But…can I take you to dinner?”
I look at him. “What?”
“My hat, is it still in the ring?” His voice is scratchy and his eyes look almost desperate. I swallow. “Please, Susan. Don’t bench me yet.”
“I…I’ll think about it.”
“Okay, doesn’t have to be dinner. Lunch, coffee, something here, I just want to spend time with you. Hell, I’ll meet you at spin class if I have to. And that’s saying something,” he tries to joke.
I look at him, and my chin shakes but I say the words anyway, “I stood right here in this kitchen, Adam, just a couple years ago and I asked you to start playing tennis with me again.”
“You what?” his head jerks back.
“I asked you. You didn’t even look up from your phone. You just said, ‘Tennis, who has the time for that?’ and walked out of the house.”
“Susan, I didn’t hear you. I didn’t hear what you said.”
“That was one of many nights I cried myself to sleep, Adam.”
He steps toward me, reaches for me. “I promise, I didn’t hear you.”
“I don’t know if I believe you.”
“Susan, I would never say no to you. Think about it, when have I ever said no when you outright asked to do anything? Ever?” I frown, closing my eyes so the tears won’t leak out as he goes on. But my ears still work and I can hear the strain, like he’s trying not to cry too. “Baby, you stopped asking me. You stopped asking me to go with you to events. You stopped putting things for us on the calendar. And I get it, I wasn’t any fun to be around but I’m telling you right now on my life, on our boys’ lives, I did not hear you ask me.” I sniff and he gently puts his hands on my biceps.
“I must’ve thought you were asking if I had a game scheduled, like golf with a partner or something. Look at me,” he pleads. I look up. “Think about it. Think back, you’ll know I’m telling you the truth. If you’d asked me to play with you I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. I loved playing with you, we were killers out there, remember?” I just study his face. His eyes search mine and he worries his bottom lip and I believe him. I offer a tiny nod.
He squeezes my arms. “Can I hug you?”
“No.”
I pull away. I don’t need his magical hugs destroying my resolve. He did have his chance to spend time with me, over and over, the tennis incident aside.
“I know I don’t deserve it,” he says as he takes a step back. “But I hope you’ll let me take you out.”
I nod in a noncommittal way without looking in his direction and he leaves.
A couple minutes later, I hear my phone buzz.
Adam: [Link: Lyric Video, Big Star, 1971, Give Me Another Chance ]
I close my conversation with him and spend a few minutes updating Skye instead. The date with Pearce was a success. Were there explosions and butterflies? No. But these things can take time. I also text Jenn. Time to meet Elton too.
I still love Adam.
I still miss him and I’m definitely attracted to him.
But he interrupted my plan.
It’s time for me, without contracts or family ties or outside manipulation, to figure out what I truly want.