“God, I thought there was something about you, but your hair…it’s not red or curly or anything resemblingMy Red.”
I hadn’t been His Red in two decades—maybe never—yet the token of devotion had my heart pounding.
“Then I saw the birthmark and I knew. Who else has a heart-shaped birthmark on their hand? Only the sweetest girl in America.” He rattled on while I tried to get my pulse to settle.
“Um, Ford, can you let me go?”
Immediately he released his embrace and I faltered backward. This time, it was me creating space as we continued to stand in the beige hospital corridor, the automatic double doors behind us and the nurses’ station in front of us.
“I can’t believe this. I’ve always wanted to reach out. What are you doing here?”
He waited for me to answer, but I was stuck onhe always wanted to reach out. He never did.
I was on Facebook, so it couldn’t have been that hard.
“I work here. At the hospital.”
“You do? This isn’t far from where we grew up. I didn’t realize when we graduated college, you stuck around. I guess, I assumed you were still in the area, but Baltimore? I never imagined. You must’ve known my dad was here, but you played dumb. Why? This is the wing my grandfather built. You knew that? You had to. We talked about it growing up, I’m sure.” He had his head cocked to the side as he continued to question my reticence, and his mouth was sort of turned in a frown.
I couldn’t help but notice a little bit of gray peppering his already light blond sideburns, and a few crinkles around his eyes. Of course he’d aged. We were forty-four. That didn’t mean he didn’t look delectable. What was the saying?Men age like fine wine. And we all knew what happened to women…
I brought my mind back to planet Earth. “I had to. The job. You could have been testing me. Confidentiality, you know?”
“Me? Why would I do that? I’m Ford. We were born in the same hospital, hours apart, a week after Thanksgiving. Your mom and my nanny took us to playgroup together. Your mom got the job where we went to school… I’ve known you my whole life, and then poof, you went your own way.”
Actually, he was the one who went his own way, but no one was fact-checking.
“I grew up. You know, with my mom gone, I grew my own wings. I had to.” I didn’t have a family lineage dating back to early presidents and mafia moguls.
“I’m sorry about that. I’d heard, but I was in Europe when it happened. Billy’s career was ramping up, and I had to go check in on her. She needed someone to bring her back here. I was the one elected.”
Typical Ford. He didn’t know why I’d disappeared from his life, but he also didn’t realize how self-involved he could be. It wasn’t his fault. His whole family was that way—he came by it honestly. Billy, his model-turned-actress sister being the worst offender. She’d never needed a day’s supervision in her life. She went after what she wanted and got it. Ford went to Europe because the parties were plentiful, and notoriety was even greater. Taking care of Billy was a convenient excuse.
“It’s okay. I knew you’d feel bad, but she wasn’t suffering anymore.”
My mom died right after my college graduation. She’d battled breast cancer since I was fifteen. My dad didn’t like her once she only had one breast, so he’d gone out and found a woman with a matching set. It didn’t take a genius to guess why I believed appearance was everything, and as the residentnever-shed-her-baby-fat-girl—strike that, I mean curvy girl—I wasn’t Ford’s type. Except for that one night.
“Seriously, what did you do to your hair? I can’t even call you Red anymore.”
“I grew up, Ford. The girl who looked like Little Orphan Annie wasn’t meant to be taken seriously.”
He crossed one ankle in front of the other, mirroring his upper body, as he crossed his arms over his chest, assessing me. His navy sportscoat stretched across his body in a delightful way. My mind wandered to the Masters Tournament, which had been on the TV in the breakroom—Ford looked better than the young guy who’d won it, his green blazer snug and fit over his muscular frame.
“Really? Everyone always took you seriously. I mean, don’t get me wrong…” His eyes traveled the length of my body and back up. “You look great, but you looked great before. I knew you then, and I’m seeing you now.”
This was so typical Ford, boldly acting like over twenty years hadn’t passed since I last saw him, picking up right where he thought we left off with his false compliments.
Finally, desperate to put on my regular eyeglasses, I braced my elbow against my rib cage, allowing me to unzip my tote and reach in and grab them. With the same hand, I yanked my black ones off and shoved my navy blue cat eye frames on, pushing them up my nose. Ford seemed to watch every move I made, taking in my silver-shaded irises behind my now clear lenses.
“I thought you wore contacts. This is all too much. You’re not even you. New hair, glasses, this whole look,” he said while waving his hand in front of my body.
What he meant was I’d shed some of the aforementioned lingering baby fat, and toned what was left. I wasn’t thin or skinny, but I looked better than I had.Two decades ago…
I had to shut this guy up; I knew his forthrightness all too well. “To answer all your questions—yes, I need to be taken seriously. I’m the head of development for this whole place—”
“My parents never said—”
He’d interrupted me, and I interrupted him right back. “Because your parents barely know who I am. If Maggie, your nanny, was still around, she would have said something.”
