When we were together, we werecomfortable.
But guess who else I feel comfortable with? My mom. The people who work in my practice. The surgical team at the hospital. The barista I see on Monday mornings at the coffee shop down the street. Even the cashier at the grocery store I’ve been going to since I moved inhere.
When two people are in love, when they’ve decided to get married, I don’t think they should settle forcomfortable.
I think maybe sometimes they should beuncomfortable.
Passion, in anger or in lust, should make themagitated.
Hurt feelings should touch them so deeply there’s no way to keep from spillingover.
Desire should push them to the point offrenzy.
And they should be able to eat ice cream whenever they feel likeit.
So I do. Armed with a spoon and a pint, I eat it on thecouch.
And I think a lot, maybe even too much, aboutAubrey.
My hip’sjammed against the kitchen sink as I stare at the man in front of me. He shuffles his feet, looking everywhere but atme.
It’s not that I don’t want this for my dad. I want him to meet someone. I really do. But that was an idea, amaybe this will happen somedaything.
Not tonight, like he has just informed me. I’m happy for him. It’s just shocking, I guess. How many years has it been since he has been on adate?
To alleviate the awkwardness, I busy myself rinsing Claire’s yogurt from her bowl. “Are you nervous?” I askhim.
“Nothing to be nervous about,” he says, opening thefridge.
“Liar.” I place the bowl in thedishwasher.
“Don’t make a big deal about this. It’s nothing.” His tone isgruff.
“Fine. I won’t.” I hold up my hands, a dish towel dangling from my right hand. “It’snothing.”
“Don’t you have Claire’s appointment today?” He closes the fridge and looks atme.
“Eleven. Are you going to come?” I’d like to have someone else in the room with me. Someone besides Claire. Isaac makes me feel… well, a lot of things. Things I’m not supposed to feel. Things that are asinine. Insane. Foolish. Things his fiancee wouldn't appreciate. It would be nice to have a buffer in the room. Someone with a differentenergy.
Dad shakes his head, zapping any hope I held. “I have towork.”
“Why don’t you want to go?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. It’s ten o’clock. He never leaves our house thislate.
“Don’t give me that look.” He frowns. “I’d go if I could, but I’m driving downtown for ameeting.”
“I can call Greg.” I warn. Besides my dad, Greg is the most trustworthy guy on their crew. He’ll tell me if they’re really workingtoday.
“Call Greg.” He lifts his chin in achallenge.
I consider him for a moment. I think my nerves are making me see things. It’s not that my dad wants to leave me alone with Isaac. He really just can’t go. “I trust you,” I sayslowly.
He laughs. “Sometimes I wonder who’s the parenthere.”
“Both of us.” I answer, grabbing my phone off the counter and slipping it into my back pocket. “I’m going to get Claire ready. Will you be here when we get home thisafternoon?”
“Happy hour,” he says around a mouthful ofbanana.
I pause, studyinghim.
