I could have been their daughter for real. I dated their son, Luke, while I was in grad school. He was a few years older than me, but he could never seem to get his act together. I was thankful his parents didn’t hate me when I broke up with him. They knew Luke had issues. I honestly only stayed with him so long because of his parents and part of me wanted it to work out. I loved the Chandlers, but I never loved Luke in that way. Luke wasn’t happy at all when I broke it off, but it was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. Luke was now a beach bum in Florida, working as little as he possibly could, and getting in trouble on a regular basis. He’d never really grown up and caused his parents a lot of heartache. Gary even had to fire him. He was nothing like his brother, Ethan, who was a successful accountant and owned his own firm in Atlanta. Ethan was married to the sweetest woman, Bethany, and they had three adorable kids, two boys and a girl.
I knew once Gary retired, he and Holly would be spending the majority of their time in Atlanta. Holly loved being a nana more than breathing. I was going to miss them, but they deserved any and all happiness that came their way. I was truly blessed to know them. Thinking about them made me more in favor of going back to Chandler, even if I wasn’t the Director. I would still have influence, and I could make sure Mr. Hot Shot didn’t screw anything up. If only I didn’t have to work with Mr. Hot Shot. I was so confused.
Zumba gave me a much-needed endorphin boost. On top of that the forecast was going to be sunny and seventy degrees! That improved my mood by leaps and bounds. I knew the warmth wouldn’t last, but Iwould take what I could get until spring officially sprung. In honor of the warm temps, I decided to procrastinate doing Saturday chores and instead headed to Amanda’s to grab my nieces. We were going to the park and then out to lunch and whatever else they could talk me into.
My sister and Zane were more than happy to have a childless day. I hoped someday, after fifteen years of marriage, I would be sappily in love with my husband. I knew they didn’t have a perfect marriage. They argued like normal couples, but they still had it for each other. Court and Sam were ecstatic because I got them out oftheirSaturday chores too. What were aunts for, anyway?
As I watched my nieces play along with what seemed like every other kid in the suburbs of Nashville, I couldn’t help but think of Ian. We had many dates at the park near campus. They were cheap dates, but was there anything more romantic than your boyfriend pushing you on a swing or stroking your hair as you lay your head in his lap while he studied macroeconomics? In my book there wasn’t. I missed those kinds of simple dates. Most men thought they needed to spend a lot of money and take you somewhere exclusive, but I wished for someone who would take me to the park. I wanted to walk barefoot with him on the cool grass. Or have him push me on a swing or feed me peanut butter and jam sandwiches while we watched the clouds in the sky. I also wished I had never fallen in love with Ian Greyson.
After the park, the girls and I made our way to the new pizzeria in town that made great pizza but even better gyros. Their gelato was pretty good too. I loved being with my nieces. They reminded me so much of their mother and me, except Court was fair and blonde like her daddy. Sam, though, could have been mine. We shared the same dark hair and the blue-green eyes that we inherited from my dad. The girls were the best of friends and the worst of enemies, just like Manda and I had been growing up. Now we were only the best of friends. I knew Court and Sam would eventually get there too. Honestly, I enjoyed watching their little tiffs. It drove my sister nuts, but I didn’t live with it day in and day out, so for me it was entertaining. Court had my sister’s personality, sweet and a little snarky. Sam was like me, more snarky than sweet. Her nickname “Sassafras” suited her well.
We rounded out our day together at Build-a-Bear, because I’m a sucker when it comes to them, and I had no one else to spoil. I knew my sister wouldn’t love me for it. That’s why I would be dropping them off and waving to my sister from the car. She could reprimand me by phone later, and I’m sure she would.
When I got home, I showered quickly and did something I hadn’t done in years while I waited for my hair to dry. I figured it was about time, and maybe it would help me solve my little issue. My dad had encouraged me and my sister to keep a journal for every year of our life. Some years I was better than others, but I had one for every year since I was sixteen, even though some of them were spotty. Each journal was filled with my thoughts and sometimes random everyday happenings. Interspersed between some of the pages were pictures, awards, and cards from friends, or anything else I found of value. Whenever I reminisced, there were always two journals I skipped over, my eighteen- and nineteen-year-old ones, for obvious reasons, but today they were going to see the light of day. Several times over the years I almost ripped out the pages that contained anything to do with Ian, but I thought someday I would regret that. I hoped someday I would be able to look back and not cry because it was over, but smile because it happened, just like Dr. Seuss said. That day had never come.
As I sat on my bed, I reverently cracked open the pages of journal eighteen. And, before I changed my mind, I skipped to the pages that contained Ian. The first entry I came to was about the first time I met him. I had to smile at my stupid young self, writing about whether I would be able to concentrate around my new calculus tutor because he was hot. I also made fun of him because he was so serious. There were several more entries of me rambling on about how much I liked him, and I thought maybe he liked me too. I read about the ‘A’ I received on my first calculus test after Ian had started tutoring me and how happy I was about it. I kissed him spontaneously at the next tutoring session. I wrote about his confused reaction. I knew he liked it, and he even reciprocated, but he left in a hurry and told me we shouldn’t do that again. But I was persistent, and after several weeks, he finally gave in and said he was done resisting me. I could feel the joy leap off the pagesas I read about us becoming an “official” couple. There were several pictures of us together. I particularly loved the Thanksgiving pictures. It was my first holiday away from home, but Ian and his family kept me from being homesick. It was one of my most favorite Thanksgivings. There were pictures of us building snowmen, making snow angels, and of the canned food drive I helped head up on campus. I’d made Ian help too. He was right, we had worked well together. That was the school’s most successful drive to date, as far as I knew.
I flipped through page after page of happy memories, then one particular passage jumped out at me dated February 10. It read:
Today I asked my dad how he knew he loved my mom, and she was the one, or did he know she was the one. I mean, she did leave us. He got quiet on the other end of the phone, but then he said, Kelli, you just know when you know. It will be the most undeniable, peaceful, all-encompassing feeling. It will feel like drowning in pure intelligence. He told me that he did feel that way about my mom. He said sometimes, just because something is right, doesn’t mean it will work out, especially when other people’s choices are involved. He said my mom made her choice, but he would never regret marrying her because he still loved her. It made me cry. I told him that I was in love with Ian. I thought he might laugh at me or maybe even be upset, but all he said was, I’m happy for you, but don’t get too carried away, you’re young. I promised him I would try, but I had been drowning in that pure intelligence for some time now. I haven’t told Ian because he frequently worries about our age difference, and I’ve been hoping he would say it first. I hope I can hold it in. I’ve almost told him on several occasions. Anyway, it’s late and I should probably go to bed, I have a big biology exam in the morning.
The tears started to fall softly down my cheeks. My sister was right. That was my problem. I had known, with every fiber of my being, I was meant to be with Ian. I knew at eighteen years of age, but he had made his choice, and there was nothing I could do, no matter how right I knew we were for each other. How do you come to terms with someone who robbed you of such a thing, especially when you’ve never been able to find it again?
I flipped through the rest of eighteen and the first part of nineteen. I stopped before I got to the breaking-up part. It was still gut-wrenching for me. I could still remember that hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach that lasted for days. Admittedly, some of it still existed.
I stood and wiped away my tears. I’d had enough. I packed the journals away in an out-of-place spot in my closet. I didn’t want to see them anymore. Anger and determination filled me. I wasn’t going to allow Ian to rob me of anything else. I loved my job at Chandler, and I belonged there, whether he was there or not.
AS I DROVE TO THE Chandlers’ I tried to remove all thoughts of Ian from my mind, but that was proving to be a difficult task. I thought I had mastered that skill long ago, but now that he was back, I found myself out of practice and very unskilled. I knew I was going to have to think about him as we were going to be working together, but I needed to forget the past. I didn’t know this Ian, and maybe I never knew him. No, that wasn’t true. In my heart, I knew that I had once known the real Ian, I just didn’t understand why he did what he did to us. I remember his mom telling me once that Ian was his best self with me. “I was really worried about your age difference, but once I saw the two of you together, those thoughts vanished. You’re a perfect match,” she said. I had thought so too.
By the time I arrived at the Chandlers’, I wasn’t in the best of moods, but seeing their home had a calming effect. In a way, it was like coming home. Their home reminded me of late-night talks, holidays, and shoulders to cry on. It felt warm and instilled a sense of belonging. The best part of dating Luke was the extra time I got to spend at his parents’ home.
I looked up at the pristine, white, two-story home with black shutters and smiled. I reminded myself of the blessed life I led, and that Ian was only a road bump. The thought of running him over made me smile even more. With that lovely thought still in mind, I walked myself up the stone path that led to the wrap-around porch that was agateway to a piece of happiness. I eagerly knocked on the door and was soon greeted by Boss.
Without a second thought, Boss pulled me to him for a big bear hug. “How are you, kiddo?”
“I’m looking forward to that raise you promised me,” I uttered against his chest.
He laughed and let me go. “That’s my girl.”
I could hear the relief in his voice. He wrapped his arm around me, and we walked back to the kitchen. Holly was putting dinner, which looked like some cheesy pasta dish, into the oven. That was out of character for her. Dinner at the Chandlers’ home was normally served promptly when guests arrived.
An uncomfortable look passed between Boss and Holly when we entered the kitchen.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
Boss cleared his throat. “Not at all, we’re expecting another guest, but we wanted you to come early so we could talk to you before he arrives.”
“He? This isn’t like a blind date or something is it?” I laughed nervously.
Holly waved her hand in the air. “No, we would never dream of doing such a thing.”
“Okay, do I know this ‘He’?”
Boss’s forehead began to perspire. He was doing that a lot lately. Ugh. He didn’t even need to say his name.
“It’s Ian, isn’t it?” I grabbed onto their kitchen island for support.
“Now, before you leave or get upset, hear me out,” Boss pleaded.
