Chapter 13 #3
I closed my eyes and forced my fists open. Took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’s not you. I’m just …” freaking out about doing all this on my own. “Are those the binders?”
He chewed on a piece of gum as he studied me, mouth turned down. Then he climbed the stairs, one boot-fall at a time, bags swinging. When he held his arms out, I thought he meant to offer the office supplies, but suddenly they were going around me and pulling me into his chest.
Panic surged. “W-what are you doing?”
“Giving you a hug.”
My first instinct was to push away, but the firmness of his body against mine made me lightheaded, the soft, sun-soaked fabric of his shirt wooing.
I could still pick up hints of soap or deodorant, even after a full day of heat.
I didn’t hate it. His strong, confident embrace hung on a beat longer than normal and spoke without words.
I’m not sure what it said, but I gave in just before he let go.
“Better?” he asked.
I squinted, trying to navigate through my brain fog. “I guess. Yeah.”
He grinned. “Good. Wanna see what I got?”
His smile could’ve won awards. The way his eyes formed perfect crescents, and his full bottom lip took center stage. How the divot in his chin became extra prominent.
I blinked down at the open bag. At the rainbow of office supplies inside: binders, colorful tabs, post-its, highlighters, and … gel pens? “Wow. You really did go on a spree.”
He looked so pleased with himself, and that golden retriever energy sucked the anger right out of me. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
He shrugged. “You can make it up to me.”
I refused to open that can of butterflies, no matter how much they fluttered to the surface. “Was it the office chairs?”
“What?”
“Did you have to try them all out, give each one a spin? Nina always bee-lines it to the chairs when we go.”
His chuckle drew my eyes to his mouth. “No. I had other errands.” He really needed to stop smiling. Though now it was more of a smirk, making my insides do weird acrobatics.
I forced an inhale. “Since you’re here, can you take something to the house?”
“Sure.” He followed me inside the trailer, not yet noticing my toddler, standing smack in the center of the living room, amid piles of once-packed toys, bare from the waist down. “Holy hell, it’s hot in here.”
The urge to weep punched me all over again. “Nina! We are packing, not playing! And where are your shorts?”
She ignored me and ran straight to Eli’s legs. “Eli, play with me!”
Bless his heart, he wasn’t even fazed. “Hey, monkey. I have something for you.” He rifled through his bag and handed her a package of sparkly stickers.
I grabbed her discarded clothes from the bathroom and wrestled her legs back into her bottoms.
When I rose, Eli gave me a strange look. “Did you say packing?”
“I did. We signed a lease for an apartment today.”
His shoulders sank.
“It has a pool,” I added, like he needed assurance. Or maybe it was for my benefit. I tucked a loose hair behind my ear. “Don’t worry, I’ll finish the binders before we go.”
He said nothing.
I dug out a Dollar General Tupperware and started spooning rice, working to avoid the burnt bits and Eli’s disappointed expression. His sudden silence felt more oppressive than the heat.
When he finally spoke, it came from right behind me. “You made us dinner?” I could smell the spearmint on his breath. And the intimate way he said “us” resonated more like a candlelit dinner than takeout. Or maybe the extra heat emanating from his body messed with my brain.
“Who said there’s enough for you?” There was. “It’s for your dad. I’m thanking him for his hospitality.”
“Our hospitality.”
If I stepped back, I’d fold into his chest. That’s how close he stood. I topped the rice with hot tamales and tucked a dish towel under the container so it wouldn’t burn his hands. Sweat dripped down my temple as I pivoted to hand it to Eli. “I don’t have a vegetable.”
To have someone stare so intensely at you must turn every hopeless romantic’s heart to mush.
He took the container. “It smells good.”
Did that make me a hopeless romantic? “I-I didn’t make them. The tamales, I mean. I bought them.”
A crease in the letter “A” formed between his eyes as he glanced at the four tamales still in the steamer behind me. ‘A’ for alluring. For assuring. There he stood, a boy who rescued strays. “You aren’t eating with us?”
‘A’ for adultery.
“No.” I wasn’t a stray. I had a life. A promise to keep. A husband to honor. “Enjoy the food, Eli.”
He dropped his eyes to the home-ish cooked meal. “I’m sure we will.”
His departure left an emptiness in my bones. I slumped into a chair at the dinette table, where I discovered an envelope that hadn’t been there earlier. The one I’d slipped through Eli’s open truck window the day before. Upon further inspection, I found all the cash. And a note.
Save it for when you take me out to dinner.
XOXO Eli
I snorted. “That’s one expensive dinner.”
Then my eye caught the sparkle of shiny stickers all over the TV. Nina!
I dropped the envelope back on the table as I stood. What was I thinking? Who had time for dinner dates?