41. I Love Normal
I LOVE NORMAL
ANDERS
Delores’s is packed to the brim today. There’s about a million people here, all talking over each other. Servers walk past us so quickly they’re followed by gusts of wind. And Parker sits beside me like none of it matters.
Beside me. Close enough that our knees keep brushing together beneath the table every few minutes.
There’s something deeply disorienting about seeing the private side of Parker that exists comfortably in public.
He reaches for my hand absentmindedly while looking over the menu, pulls my chair a little closer to his without thinking about it, and lets his arm rest along the back of my seat.
And the strangest part is that nobody cares. Nobody is staring at us or visibly disgusted. The world doesn’t stop just because Parker and I are sitting next to each other at a nice brunch.
It feels normal. I love normal.
Parker hooks his finger loosely around mine. “So,” he says, glancing over at me, “you gonna make fun of me the entire date or wait until after we eat?”
“I haven’t decided yet. It depends.”
“Depends on what.”
“It’s our first date, Pet’ka. I don’t want to scare you away.”
He lets out an amused grunt. “I like it when you’re all scary. It’s cute.”
“Whatever.” I smile down at the condensation gathering around my water glass before finally asking, “so how bad was the Bishop conversation?” When Parker groans immediately, I huff. “Damn. That bad?”
“He told me our age gap is the same as him and his oldest son’s.”
I wince. “Jesus.”
“He said he’s glad I’m happy,” Parker says after a moment. “Then immediately told me not to get comfortable.”
“You need a better best friend,” I mutter. “Between him and my brother…I’m starting to seriously question your judgement, babe.”
Parker rolls his eyes. “He’s jealous he ended up with a boring, age-appropriate ex-wife instead of a handsome, inappropriately-young boyfriend.”
The waitress arrives with our food before I can say anything, and while she sets our plates down, I catch myself watching the interaction a little too vigilant.
“If you don’t mind me saying—I’m a huge fan,” the waitress says to Parker. “My dad’s been bringing me to your games since I was little.”
But then her eyes flicker from him to me, and I can see it click in her head. Parker and I seated so close together that our arms are pressed into each other. His hand is resting comfortably on my thigh.
And Parker…couldn’t care less. He just smiles politely, thanks her, then reaches over and drags my plate a little closer toward me once she leaves, completely casual about the whole entire thing.
“How did the meeting with your professor go?”
Well, fuck. The one question I didn’t want to be asked on our first date. Objectively, the situation is absurd.
“I kind of got offered a job,” I admit finally.
“You did?” Parker’s entire face brightens almost immediately with genuine excitement. “What kind of job?”
“A ghostwriting internship.” I exhale softly through my nose, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “In New York.”
For a split second something weird flickers across Parker’s face, but it disappears almost as soon as it came. “No shit?” he says, grinning now. “Baby, that’s incredible.”
I shrug. “It’s only temporary.”
“Okay?” Parker laughs softly. “That’s still huge. I was starting to worry about how we’re supposed to keep the lights on after I retire—since you’re so unemployed and stuff.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head at him. “It would start in the fall.”
“So?”
“So…” I trail off.
Parker watches me for a second longer before his expression shifts subtly into understanding. “Oh,” he says more quietly. “You’re trying to decide between that and Georgetown.”
I nod once.
Grad school at Georgetown has felt like the clearest path forward for months, and now suddenly there’s this other thing dangling in front of me like a fancy piece of candy.
“I don’t think I’m gonna take it,” I say eventually.
Parker frowns immediately. “Why?”
Because I can’t leave him for three fucking months.
It’s horrifying—and I know he said he would move with me, but this is different.
It’s a three month internship in New York.
Asking him to come with me for those three months feels like I’m just dragging around my emotional support boyfriend.
“I have another reason,” I say instead. Because there’s no way I can’t tell him now.
“Okay.” Parker leans back slightly in his chair, giving me his full attention.
“It’s…” I swallow back the nerves climbing up the back of my throat. “The author only reached out because they somehow ended up reading something I wrote, like, two years ago.”
“Really? What kind of thing?”
I stare down at the straw wrapper between my fingers, slowly tearing the paper into tiny pieces without really thinking about it. “A short story thing.”
“And it was good enough that they tracked you down afterward?” Parker asks, smiling slightly.
Oh, my sweet summer child…
I let out a nervous laugh. “That’s unfortunately the problem.”
His expression shifts almost imperceptibly. “Yeah?”
“I wrote it when I was nineteen,” I continue carefully, already feeling heat gathering beneath my skin. “And nineteen-year-old me was…” I exhale sharply through my nose. “Not subtle.”
Parker goes still beside me. “What’s it about?” he asks carefully.
The way he’s being so cautious makes my stomach twist into knots. The least I can do is offer him the honest, genuine truth. “About you,” I admit quietly.
Parker blinks at me once. “Me?”
“Not literally you,” I add quickly. “It’s fictionalized, obviously. But…the feelings weren’t…I guess.”
It takes more effort than it should to block out the memories of what things were like with him in the beginning, because that man isn’t my Parker. It’s not fair to keep hashing out the past if he’s made up for it in more ways than one.
“Can I read it?” He asks softly with an unreadable expression in his eyes..
“I don’t know if you’ll actually want to after—”
“Can I read it?” His voice sounds less steady this time, and it fucking crushes me. I would give just about anything to know what the hell is running through his brain right now.
“Yeah,” I say immediately. “Of course you can.”
Parker just looks at me for a long moment after that.
Then he reaches across the table and takes my hand.
“I love you,” he says. “So much.” He says those three words with the same kind of certainty he did the first time he said them, and then it all clicks into place.
Parker loves me with the same incomprehensible level of intensity that I love him.
“I love you too,” I say quietly, the words finally coming out like it’s the easiest thing ever. “I love you, Pet’ka.”
The immediate rush of relief surges through me now that I’ve finally gotten those three massive words off my chest.
Parker’s jaw tightens almost immediately afterward as he reaches for the sunglasses hooked into the collar of his shirt, sliding them onto his face to hide his very obvious emotional state of disarray.
I stare at him. “Pet’ka.”
He shakes his head. “I’m fine.”
“Why are you wearing your sunnies?.”
Parker huffs, restrained. “The sun exists, Anders. And it’s…really bright outside. You know blue eyes are sensitive to the sun.”
My mouth pulls into a smirk, but it quickly fades when Parker squeezes my hand a little too hard for it to be casual. He’s trying not to cry in the middle of a crowded restaurant patio.
Parker lowers his head slightly and brings my hand toward his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss against my knuckles before exhaling softly through his nose.
I’ve always said that Parker silences the racing thoughts in my head, but I don’t think that’s the case anymore. Right now, all I feel is peace.
“Now what?” I blurt before I can stop myself.
He just shrugs, letting my hand drop as he pulls my chair even closer to him. His mouth hovers right beside my ear. “Nothing,” he whispers. “This is it. We love each other. Nothing else matters.” And then he kisses my temple as we hide in plain sight.