“We’ve never actually tried, Mia.” He shifts, uneasy, his gaze lowering and then lifting. “You know?”
“We did try. We went out. We even joke about how we had, and have, no chemistry. And how can you bring this upright now, of all times, when I just threw up and look like shit?”
“Maybe that’s the best time.”
I’m confused, a jumbled mess, but I can have only one thought: I have to keep him far away from me. He could get hurt. A plot quickly forms in my mind. “Okay. I’ll make you a deal. Do the dating experiment for Jess. If you don’t find a perfect woman, we’ll try a date. And I promise not to throw up. I’ll even shower.”
He laughs. “That’s the deal. I have to do Jess’s experiment, and then you’ll go out with me?”
I don’t laugh. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”
“You won’t. We’re friends no matter what. Remember onSeinfeld? Elaine and Jerry had sex and became better friends. They just knew it didn’t work for them.”
“You’re comparing us to a nineties sitcom? You’re such a geek.”
“So are you. Why is your mother here?”
“I forgot I’m going to have lunch with my parents to talk aboutLion’s Den.”
“Oh. Ouch. She still doesn’t know what he has going on then?”
“Nope.”
“All right then. I’ll leave you to your great afternoon. Need help up?”
“No,” I say. “I just need to sit here a moment.”
“Call me and tell me how it goes?”
I nod and wet my dry lips. “I will.”
He pats my leg, a friendly gesture that still feels just that, friendly. I mean, the truth is I’m just not sure the whole dating thing isn’t about that pressure his sister is putting on him over his love life. The odd thing, though, is he still didn’t confess the fact that he was on the dating site and deleted his profile.
Why does that feel off to me?
I shake away the thought. I’ve been through this with Jack. And right now, the truth is that everything feels off to me.
His steps fade down the stairs, and a thought hits me. The news. Kevin. What is happening? I grab my phone from the floor and tab for local news, careful not to look for anything specific enough to scream:Hey, I saw my ex get his throat sliced last night.There is nothing worth reading. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or worried. I mean, Kevin is a loner. Sundays are gamer days. He could easily lie on his floor, stiff and dead in a pool of his own blood, all day. It won’t be until he no-shows to work tomorrow that trouble brews.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Not once in five years has my mother visited my library.
Her interest in me is limited to what she wants and what she needs that I can help her achieve.
Yet she’s taken over my kitchen, where she fills a thermos with the warm, wonderful brew for me to consume on the ride to my parents’ place. Once we’re in her car, I sip the concoction, and I’m pleasantly surprised. She’s mixed hazelnut coffee, one of my favorite home flavors, with just the right amount of cream and Splenda. She’s a smart woman. She knows more about me than she lets on. She keeps tools in her arsenal and uses them only as she needs them.
For herself.
“About your father,” she begins, a stoplight away from my loft and three sips into my heavenly beverage.
“He doesn’t want to do the show, Mom.”
“And I certainly understand why, but—”
“We have to allow the people in our lives to be the people they are and accept them as they are,” I say, and not without the bitterness of a little girl whose mother tried to dictate her future.
“You also cannot allow someone you love to fall off the proverbial bicycle and live in fear of getting back on it. You dust yourself off and get back on the bike. We’ve let him live in fear.”
