Chapter 19 #3
Tank calls just as I’m climbing into his bed. We’ve been texting throughout the day, but hearing his voice has me full-body sighing. I’ve gotten a little too used to the deep timbre of his voice. It’s like the song I can’t get out of my head—and don’t want to.
“How are you?” he asks. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a month. Why is that?”
“I don’t know but I agree! The last week has flown by but every day has also been like an eternity.
” I sit down on his bed, fluffing the pillows behind me.
If possible, his bed is even more comfortable than the guest room bed.
I think about telling him that I’m talking to him while in his bed, but then decide that’s the wrong kind of flirting. “Do you know what I mean?”
“I absolutely do. And I feel the same way. For example, it feels like we’ve known each other for a year.”
“It does!” I pick at a thread unraveling at the bottom of my shirt, reminding me that I need to do laundry or head back across the street for another bag of things.
“Time gets wonky as we get older. Like, I swear, some years when the kids were little, January alone felt like it lasted a hundred years. I’m still feeling like it’s summer, but I just heard ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You’ the other day. ”
“No!” Tank says. “I thought the rule was after Thanksgiving for Christmas music.”
“They start earlier every year. I think it’s a ploy to get people to buy more gifts. Anyway, it’s weird how the more years I live, the faster things go.”
“Agreed. I’d like to hit a slow down button. Or flip an add more time switch.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” I laugh. “And some days I’d like a turn back the clock option. Though—not this week. I think this week, I might take the add more time switch.”
I stop just short of confessing that I’d like that option so I could spend more time with Tank.
“Speaking of time, how are you feeling about our pace?” Tank asks. “Too fast? Too slow? Just right?”
I take one of the pillows from the empty side of the bed and pull it to my chest, needing something to hold. “If anything, too slow,” I admit, and I feel grateful when he says, “Me too.”
“I shouldn’t feel that way if I look at it objectively. This should feel way too fast. But it doesn’t. Not even a little bit.”
Honestly, I’d like them to move a little faster. Or, at least, I’d like to see Tank more. It seems like we picked a very chaotic week to start dating. And even though we’ve only been on one official date, this already feels way more serious.
Just one more way that time doesn’t make sense, somehow moving slowly and quickly at the same time.
“Good. Then is it okay to admit I really missed seeing you today?”
“Same.” I stop short of telling him I want to see him every day. Maybe every hour wouldn’t even be enough.
“Dating feels different now, right? Back when I last went on dates—and I mean before David, because after doesn’t count—I was a baby adult.
I hardly knew who I was or what I wanted.
Even if I knew what I wanted, I didn’t have the courage to ask for it.
Now, I’ve lived a whole lifetime. I’m more comfortable in my skin and with what I want.
Not to be morbid, but knowing that we have less life left to live, why waste time? ”
“Agreed. Maybe this is just what it’s like when people date at our age?” Tank groans. “I hate the way that sounds. Our age. Like we’re ancient.”
“Is this classified as dinosaur dating?”
He laughs at this. “I like that better than the term senior dating. Sometimes I refuse senior discounts, just out of principle.”
I take every senior discount I can get to save money, but Tank and I don’t exist in the same financial bracket.
“I was thinking this week how dating is a weird term for this. It sounds way too young or immature, like we’ve reverted to teenagers. But I couldn’t think of anything better to call it.”
“Then dinosaur dating it is,” Tank says. “Speaking of, I’d love to plan our second official date. Though this week seems to be conspiring against us. I’ve been caught up planning Wolf’s thing, and I’m babysitting tomorrow afternoon.”
The idea of Tank babysitting makes my chest warm, like a glowing ember has been carefully set there. I hug his pillow tighter.
“Things should calm down after this week,” I say. “The Emilys leave tomorrow around lunch time. After Saturday’s rally for Wolf, you might be more free, right?”
“I should be. And I know getting back into your bakery will help make things easier for you. I’ve been assured the AC will be fixed Friday.”
That should come as a relief, especially as I was just thinking about how hard it will be without the help I’ve had the last few days.
But I actually feel strangely disappointed.
I like being in Tank’s place—even if I don’t like that I’ve displaced him.
It feels more homey and lived in than mine, which I’ve barely had time to decorate just with everything else going on.
I won’t go back to being lonely, though, so at least there’s that. But getting back into my loft and the bakery means having to really think about my future. The two-month deadline looms, a dark and heavy shadow.
“Hey,” Tank says, “I know it would have to be early, but would you want to go for a walk with me tomorrow morning?”
“Really?”
“If you want. I mean, I’m sure you’re tired but—”
“Yes. As long as you don’t mind me looking a little like a zombie.”
“Impossible,” Tank says. “You’re far too beautiful to look like a zombie.”
I’m grinning at his words. When’s the last time someone called me beautiful? I can’t even remember when David might last have said it. I should thank him for the compliment, but instead, I find myself wanting to blow right by it.
“You might change your tune about that at four o’clock.”
“Four?”
“If I want to have time to shower before baking, it will have to be four. You can totally change your mind,” I say quickly. “We could wait until next week and go at a reasonable hour. Like in the evening.”
“Waiting until next week to go on a walk with you sounds absolutely unreasonable,” Tank says. “I’ll see you at four.”
“Okay.” I should hang up, but instead, I find myself settling deeper into Tank’s bed, not wanting the conversation to end. Even though now, I have a walk with him to look forward to in the morning.
“What would you think about having your kids come out to Sheet Cake sometime soon?” Tank asks. “I’d like to meet them. Or we could drive into Austin. I think I had some papers my lawyer needed me to sign. Thayden would come here, but it’s also a good excuse to go there. If you want.”
Tank is rambling, and it’s adorable. Also it feels a bit like fair play since I’ve done so much nervous babbling in front of him. “Theo, are you nervous about meeting my children?”
“Yes,” he says quickly. Not even an ounce of hesitation. “Guess it’s obvious, huh?”
“A little bit. I guess I need to talk to them about this first, but I would love for you to meet them. And vice versa.”
There is a long silence, and I glance at the screen to make sure our call is still connected. Finally, Tank says, “You haven’t told them about us?”
He sounds hurt, and immediately, I feel terrible. “No, but only because it’s been such a whirlwind the last week. Not for any other reason, I promise. I haven’t had a moment to breathe, much less call and have that conversation.”
“Okay,” he says, but there’s still a note of uncertainty in his voice.
“I’ll tell them tonight,” I say quickly.
“Right when we get off the phone if it makes you feel better. They’re going to be thrilled, and they’re going to love you.
John, my son, can be a little protective.
And opinionated. But trust me—he’ll approve.
Maybe after an extensive vetting period and a background check. ”
“So, I need to make sure I impress your son. Got it. Let me know if he wants me to submit a blood test or fingerprints.”
I laugh. “He won’t be that bad.”
I hope, anyway. Honestly, I don’t know what to expect with him. Chelsea will be thrilled. She’ll probably ask if we can go wedding dress shopping.
But John … I don’t know. I worry about how much he works and how seriously he takes every little thing in life.
He’s like David in that way. But I remember a time when John was a lot goofier and less uptight.
He might simply have matured, but sometimes I wonder if he internalized things after David’s death.
He seems to have lightened up a little since Chelsea and Mason, who happens to be John’s best friend, got together. And it’s not like there’s any good reason to object to Tank. I want my children to be happy for me, but I don’t necessarily need their approval in a permission sense.
Still—it would be nice to have both.
“I’ll take your word for it, but I’ll also be on my best behavior. Oh, and Harper will be there Saturday with her husband, Chase. You might have met her at James’s wedding, but I’m not sure.”