“Pretty much.” This is the part I was worried about with dating. I watch Eric scoop the eggs out of the pan into a bowl and turn off the burner. The timer goes off for the biscuits, and he pulls a towel off the counter before grabbing them out of the oven.
“Breakfast is served.” He makes a small bow and waves his hand toward the stove almost hitting the hot skillet he just set down. “I’ll grab the butter and jelly out of the fridge. Can you grab the plates? They are in the cabinet next to you.”
“Sure.” Turning toward the cabinet, I open to find an array of mismatched dishes. It’s cute and reminds me of when Keith and I had Isaac. We didn’t have the money for a matching set, so it was whatever we found on sale or at estate sales.
After he sets everything on the table, I join him with the plates. “Crap, I forgot forks. Give me two seconds.” He jogs the short distance to the drawers and grabs two forks and a knife before heading back to the table. “So, would you be opposed to going on that date tonight?”
Would I? No. But I hear my bed calling me. “Actually, I kind of want to stay in tonight and binge watch some of my favorite shows. I don’t get complete silence too often.” Please don’t be upset about that.
“That’s cool. We can wait until the next time. It gives me some time to plan.” He rubs his hands together before digging into the food.
“Should I be worried?” The amount of glee in his voice feels like he’s going to do something extra when I really don’t need that.
“Naw.” His grin is wide and I know he’s going to do something more than what he needs to. “And that actually works out because I need to go see my mom tonight.”
“Are y’all close?”
“Definitely. She’s raised me and my brother on her own since he was a toddler.” He takes another bite. It’s nice seeing this downplayed version of him. The one that isn’t flirting with all the customers to increase his tips.
“She sounds like an amazing woman.”
“She is. I have to pick up the schedule for when I need to take my brother to his sports camps. I plan on bringing takeout so she doesn’t have to cook. It’s something I try to do a few times a month, even if she gets mad about it.”
Hearing how Eric is with his mom, especially a single mom, makes me hope my kids turn out as caring as he has. His phone dings on the table, and I glance at it before he can grab it. Lisa’s name flashes across the screen.
“I guess she wants me to come get my car?” We need to, but I also don’t want this little bubble of intimacy to burst. Getting to know him outside of the bar is refreshing. He’s nothing like I imagined.
He slides open the message and reads it aloud. “Did Joan leave her phone here? I found one on the porch. I also found her car in the driveway. Please tell me you didn’t take her home and have your way with her when she was drunk.”
He sets his phone down and shakes his head. “What is it with y’all thinking I would stoop that low?” He runs a hand through his dark brown hair. “You, I can understand. You barely know me. But Lisa? That feels like a betrayal.”
“She was probably just playing.” I feel bad for assuming the worst from him. Based on his behavior at work, I should have known he wouldn’t do anything like that. He always makes sure everyone is in their car before he leaves. He really is a standup guy. The only reason I even questioned it is because I didn’t wake up in my normal surroundings, and my recollection of what happened last night is patchy at best.
“That doesn’t make it sting any less.” He scoops up another bite of his eggs, but he doesn’t have the same enthusiasm from a few minutes ago.
“Then you should tell her,” I point my fork at him. “She’s your best friend, right?” He nods in answer. “Which is even more reason you should be able to be open and honest with her about how her statement made you feel.”
“Why do I feel like you give this advice to your kids all the time?”
“I do, but it’s also a good life lesson. My ex-husband and I held so much stuff back when we were together and so much could have been avoided had we been honest about our feelings.”
He stays quiet for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. Finally, he sets his fork down, “Would you still be together if y’all had talked things through?”
“Oh, God, no.” I can’t help the snort that comes out. That’s embarrassing. “We probably would have gotten a divorce sooner.”
He leans back in his chair. “You realize that makes zero sense.”
I set my fork down, scoot back the chair, and stand. Gathering our plates, I move toward the kitchen. “True, but we were both going through the motions, pretending to be happy. Both of us were miserable and decided we were better off apart.”
“That makes a bit more sense.” I glance back at him and he’s staring off into an empty space. I wonder where his thoughts have taken him, and if it’s anything to do with his own upbringing.
“Do you want me to scrape what’s leftover in the trash, or do you have a disposal?”
He jumps out of his chair and rushes in my direction. “You don’t have to do that.” He pulls the plates out of my hands. “You’re a guest and shouldn’t be cleaning up any of this.”
“I seem to remember waking up in your bed, safe and sound, because you took care of me when I couldn’t take care of myself.” I tap my chin as if the memory is foggy and didn’t happen a whole hour ago.
“Despite what people think, I’m a gentleman.” He bows as he sets the dishes in the sink.
