Before she can lift her hand away from mine, probably second-guessing herself, I intertwine her fingers with mine and rest them there. Neither of us acknowledges the action or moves from the spot, not wanting the moment to end. The gesture and simple act just prove that she feels the same way I feel about her. The confirmation is clear in our joined hands. And as the last fireworks blast into the sky, so does my resolve and fight against what this could mean and the road ahead of us if we choose to pursue our feelings. I send those thoughts of self-doubt and negativity into the air along with the last explosions across the star-lit sky. When thesmoke clears and the crowd’s cheering erupts, I glance over to her. My thumb rubs in a circle over hers, hoping that whatever this is doesn’t blow up in our face.
After the fireworks end, Nadia helps me with Catalina. She is asleep, and we patiently wait for the crowd to dissipate before we make our way out of the park. She holds onto Catalina as I continue to gather up all the supplies, carrying her until I load up the last of the blankets, fold them, and put them away into the bags I brought for us. I offer to take her, but she just holds onto her and tells me to lead the way. We walk to my truck as a unit, and I feel the ease with which we work together. There is no drama, just us.
I want to pretend that we are a family and that she is my wife, carrying our daughter to our truck, but I know it is foolish to even dream of the idea of us, in case it doesn’t work out. It is a dangerous and slippery slope. And I am already poised at the top of the hill, ready to fall over it in a lovesick, foolish fashion.
As I walk over to the truck, I unlock the door with the key fob and place the items in my hand on the ground near the front tire. I open the door and pivot to Nadia as she leans into me and hands over a sleeping Catalina. I buckle her into her five-point harness car seat, ensuring it is secure, and move the little seat belt rest cushion up by her cheek so she can lean into it. Nadia is already putting the bag on the front passenger seat when I move around the back to lower the truck bed and place my cooler of snacks into it. I go over to the driver’s side to start the truck and walk back over to Nadia, who is looking anywhere but at me. I don’t know how to act at this point. I begin reaching for her when Savannah comes up out of nowhere, ruining the moment. Any further chance I have to show Nadia that I want this to happen just as much slips away. But I know, without a doubt, I would’ve kissed her.
“There you are!” She throws her hands up. “I was looking everywhere for you.” Nadia looks remorseful.
“Sorry, babe. I was just helping Manny get Catalina to the truck. Pickles was out like a light.” Savannah’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Pickles, is it?” Nadia looks embarrassed, glancing away from her friend and back at me. I also wondered about that name, but I hadn’t asked her out of a lack of curiosity. It was just in the way thather eyes softened when she used the name to refer to Catalina. It looked like she was remembering something too intimate a feeling to share with me, especially since we had a bit of a rocky start.
Meaning, I was kind of a dick to her. I don’t know what transpires when they look at each other, but they seem to have a silent discussion. I look to where Catalina sleeps and realize I must get my daughter home.
“Do you guys need a ride to your car? I need to get this one home.” I hitch my finger over to where she naps in her car seat. This stops whatever exchange was occurring between them, and Nadia looks at me, shaking her head.
“We are parked over there and have plans tonight anyway.” I look at her, my thoughts bobbing as I swallow the questions I want to ask, but I have no business asking. Where to? With whom?
So instead, I say, “Okay, drive safely, and I will see you on Monday morning at the house.” She looks at me, also appearing to want to say more, but Savannah tugs at her arm, and she smiles sadly, giving me a little wave.
“Alrighty. See you then.” She walks off with her friend, leaving me to go home alone with my daughter in tow. I wish she was sitting in the front seat of my truck, going home with us tonight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Istand frozen, watching Manny pull away from the park and join the caravan with the other cars in line. For a moment, I thought about chasing after him because my heart felt like it was moving forward along with his truck, all while my feet stayed planted in that same spot. Every part of me screams to run after him, to pound on his window, and to beg him not to leave. As much as I hate to admit it, Savannah is right. We have plans. Parker’s name flashes on my phone, and I show it to Savannah. “Yes!" she grins, fist-punching the air with a joy I can’t quite match.
She grabs my hand, guiding us back to the car. “Let’s get out of here,” she says excitedly, as our steps quicken with each stride. As I let her lead me, I cast one last glance over my shoulder, but I know it’s stupid. He’s gone.
We reach the car and climb in, falling into a comfortable silence as the line of cars crawls forward, inch by inch, across the grassy field from where we parked and now wait in line. Luckily, most people left before we did, since I was helping Manny pick up his belongings and pack up his truck. Next to me, Savannah flips down the visor. The mirror’s soft light illuminates her face. She rummages through her cosmetic bag, touching up her makeup with quick, practiced strokes.
I decide to break the silence. “So...what’s up with Gage?” I ask, trying to sound casual. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Savannah’s cheeks flush pink.
“We made plans to meet up later,” she says, her voice a little too nonchalant, like she was trying to play it cool. “I already texted him with our plans, and he is fine with meeting us at the tavern.” She huffs, but continues. “Even though he didn’t sound too keen on going to hang out where he works since he’s not, you know,” she mimes air quotes, “‘actually working tonight.’” She snorts.
I laugh at the comment because, yeah, I get it. “Same,” I retort.
Savannah stops chatting and returns her focus, outlining her lips with a liner. “Oh, yeah, how can I forget?” She deadpans.
I can’t help but giggle, the sound bubbling out before I can stop it. There’s something so endearing about how much effort she’s putting in.
“What time are we—” I cut her off as I read my new message.
“They are already on their way. He says he will get us a table.”
She throws her makeup bag into her purse. “Nice,” she comments before changing the music I’m streaming on my playlist. “I Don’t Want To Wait” by David Guetta and One Republic starts, and she begins dancing in the front seat, singing along with the repetitive chorus. Her hands are over her head, fingers snapping as she sways along with the beat. I can’t help but join in on singing and hitting the steering wheel in rhythm to the song as we drive down the rural road to the tavern. My mood picks up, and I’m ready to let loose and have some fun. That’s what I tell myself, but oh, how I wish I were in my pajamas envisioning myself sitting on Manny’s patio with a glass of wine in hand and maybe snuggling up on the couch with a movie, hoping to get to know himmore…intimately, maybe? My cheeks flush at the thought as I enter the tavern’s parking lot and place the car into park.
I grab my phone and wristlet, walking shoulder to shoulder with Savannah as we approach. We hear the music playing on the patio surrounding the lake. We can see people who live or rent homes on this lake shooting off their own fireworks, giving us an extra show tonight. I look around until I spot Parker, Hadley, and Jasmine at a table. As we walk toward them, Parker’s gaze finds mine as he jumps up to walk over to meet us. He hugs me, and I hug him back.
Ugh. How did he know I needed one? He has become a good friend in the past two weeks, and I am sad he will leave tomorrow. Things happen for a reason, and he was there at just the right time when I needed someone the most. Although we haven’t discussed our relationship, I’m confident that he doesn’t feel anything romantically for me either.
I step into the picnic-style table, alight with electric candles, giving off a light glow that matches the stringed lights draped along the pergola above us, encompassing most of the area. Savannah looks around eagerly for Gage, while Parker is already standing ready to grab us some drinks when he notices we don’t have any.
“What do you ladies want to drink?” he asks, and Savannah gives him a wicked smile.
“I’ll take a margarita, please,” she says, and he nods, then looks at me.
“Surprise me?” I state playfully. His brows lift, accepting the challenge.
