The wagon lurches into motion, and I fall practically into Ethan’s lap, moving quickly to push myself upright before my hands come into contact with any particular places that they absolutely should not.
“Sorry.” I brush my hair out of my eyes and smooth down the skirt of my yellow sundress. Grandmother always told me blondes should never wear yellow because it washes us out, and I definitely factored that tidbit into my wardrobe decision for the afternoon.
“No problem,” Ethan mumbles.
“Look, Ethan, I can think of few things worse in life than trying to have any sort of meaningful conversation in the back of a fucking wagon, but in the interest of preserving both of our sanity, let me just make it clear that I have no intention of pursuing a relationship with you.”
The relief that washes over his face should be insulting.
Itisa little insulting, if I’m being totally honest. So I don’t know why I rush to justify my declaration. “You seem like a really nice guy, and I’m sure there are lots of women out there who would love to date you.” I can think of one in particular, but I keep that to myself for now. “But you’re not the one for me, I’m afraid.”
Ethan scrubs his hands over his thighs, covered in jeans that accentuate his lanky frame. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m so glad you said that.”
“Gee, how could I take that the wrong way?” I slide a little farther away on the bench.
Ethan moves a couple of inches closer to me but keeps his hands where I can see them. “I just meant that there is someone else out there…for me, I mean…and I don’t think I could give you the full attention you deserve and I would really hate to hurt you. You do seem like a nice person.”
“Do I, though?”
“Well, Emma seems to like you, so you can’t be all bad.”Ethan hesitates for a second. “I know that it might not be appropriate to ask this, considering we’re supposed to be on a date…”
I raise one eyebrow, but don’t interrupt him.
“But there might be someone else who’s caught my attention. I’m just not sure if she’s interested in me.”
I smile because he really is adorable. “Interesting. I have a friend—a work associate who’s becoming a friend, really—who is going through a similar situation.”
For a second, a spark lights his eyes, but it fades as soon as it comes. “I’m sure whoever your friend is, she’s far more impressive than me. I’m sure anyone in town would be lucky to have her.”
“You’re right about that.” I steady myself after another jolting lurch of the wagon. “But she’s got her heart set on one person in particular.”
Ethan’s head falls. “I could never be worthy of her, can’t really provide her with the kind of life she deserves. I’m just a schoolteacher, and I’m not sure how it works where you’re from, but here in Heart Springs, there isn’t a lot of money in teaching.”
“I think that’s a universal truth, my friend.” I brush my hands, clearing away some straw and potential splinters. I’m very much over this whole Heart Springs 1950s notion of gender roles and vow to do what I can to quash it. “But Emma isn’t the kind of person to judge you based on your income. Besides, the bakery seems to be doing just fine, she doesn’t exactly need your money.”
Ethan’s eyes widen at my use of her name, but I’m spared his response as the wagon finally comes to a halting stop. I once again take his hand as he helps me down but drop it the second my feet hit solid ground.
“So, Ethan, now that we know we are not going to be riding off into the sunset together—literally or figuratively—can we skip the whole manual labor part of this date and go right to the eating and drinking part?” I wouldn’t want to pick strawberries with a man I wanted to bang, I sure as hell don’t plan on wasting my energy on this farce with Ethan.
He shrugs and leads me over to a table positioned under the shade of a huge tree. “I don’t see why not.”
I try—unsuccessfully—throughout the course of our picnic to convince Ethan that he needs to just ask Emma out already, but he continues to insist she needs a man who can “provide for her.” Our picnic comes to a screeching halt when I lose my patience and tell him he doesn’t deserve her if he isn’t going to grow a pair and ask her out.
When I get home from my “date,” Ben’s front porch is empty.
Which is fine. It’s not like I have a whole lot to report anyway. And I certainly haven’t gotten used to our daily hangouts. And he probably isn’t going to be too happy with me when he hears about what a disaster the date was.
So really, it’s better that I don’t have to see him.
I am very good at my job—my real-world one, that is—and can convince just about anyone of just about anything. But somehow I fail to convince myself that it doesn’t bother me that Ben isn’t waiting for me. I fail to convince myself that I don’t actually miss him.
—
Emma’s smile the morning aftermy nondate is slightly more strained than usual.
“Ethan is a very nice guy, but I have zero interest in himwhatsoever,” I declare the moment I walk through the door. I know I already told her I wouldn’t be pursuing him, but clearly the message didn’t sink in the first time.
Hence her huge sigh of relief. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” she lies after she catches herself, still grinning widely.
