“Okay, Emma, spill it. Pause your thought and hand itover.”
“Wow, I'm impressed with your bowlingskills.”
His arms drop to his sides. “Really? That'sit?”
He's kind of too cute for words, and I hate the thought that this might not move past tonight since this date wasn't exactly our idea. I’m also afraid that he may not want to date someone who might be on the rebound. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that I just broke up with Mike, but I wouldn’t want to start something new without being honest. My timing has never beengreat.
“Fine,” I tell him. “I'm worried that I'm having fun withyou.”
“What? Why?” he asks with a surprised look and a pinched tone to hiswords.
“You weren't wrong with what you said earlier. I just got out of a long and unfortunate relationship, and here I am on a date with you, just hourslater.”
“You do know you deserve to have fun, right? We're celebrating your decision to move on with your life. It’s thatsimple.”
“I like that,” I tell him. It makes me feel better, less like a desperate woman looking to fill avoid.
“When your feelings are dead for so long, and someone or something sparks your interest, it’s only natural that you're going to have a good time. I’ve beenthere.”
“You went on a date the day your wife left you?” My curiosity is at an all-time high with this one. He seems to be speaking from experience, but I doubt it’s very common to be dating within twenty-four hours of a breakup, especially if it’s the breakup of amarriage.
“No, this is actually my first date since then.” After all this time, I’m the lucky girl who unintentionally sparked his interest? How did that happen? Is this all Grams’s doing? Not that I’m complaining, but my life does not go that way. At least, it hasn’t up untilnow.
I stand up, needing to end this conversation because I don't know what to think, or I don't know what I’m thinking. I’m not sure which. “Now, if I get a strike, you need to tell me why, of all the strangers in the world, you chose to go out with me after being single for so many months. We both know you could have told my grandmother you were busy ortaken.”
“Deal,” he says, adding the tone of challenge to hisvoice.
I dig my fingers into the holes of the ball and close my eyes, doing nothing but wish for a miracle because bowling is not a talent I have been gifted with, and I don't want him to know that justyet.
I swing the ball, lining it up with the center guide, and release it. I cover my hand over my eyes and wait with anticipation for the sound of my ball crashing against the pins. It sounds loud, so I open my eyes, shocked to see all the pins knocked over.You’ve got to be kidding me. Noway.
I turn around and hold my chin up with a proud smile. “That was totally by luck,” he says. His wry little grin is totally calling mybluff.
“What? I don’t think so!” I argue. “Are you questioning my bowlingskills?”
“When your eyes were closed, you missed the part where your ball did this cute little swirl into the gutter before jumping back onto the alley and hitting the pins, but hey, that wasimpressive.”
“It doesn't matter how it was done. It was done, so now you can confess the reality of ‘whyme.’”
“Why you?” he begins. “Your grandmother told me she knew what true love was and that so few people get to experience it in life because they're too busy settling for the wrong person. She said you were one of those people...too busy settling. Then she asked me about my story, and she told me you would be the perfect one for me. Since the woman seems to know what she’s talking about, I took her advice. Plus, you’re drop-dead gorgeous, so thathelped.”
I’m so surprised and embarrassed by his response that I swat my palm against hisarm.
“Wow, I tell you that you’re beautiful and you hit me. Geez, no wonder you’re single.” I teasingly hit him again because I like the way he flinches and how his dimples deepen as his smile plays against hislaughter.
Somehow,between dinner, a couple of beers, and two rounds of bowling—Jackson taking the game by storm—it’s midnight, and it feels like only a minute has passed since we arrived at the alley. Jackson pulls into the parking lot at the hospital and leans his head back into his seat. “I'm going to be so tired at seven tomorrow morning, but it was worth it. I had more fun tonight than I've had in as long as I can remember,” hesays.
“Me too,Jackson.”
“I'm not going to kiss you or anything because I know you’re on the rebound. So, don’t get nervous or anything,okay?”
“I can’t believe you,” I groan. “You just can’t stop yourself for trying to make thingsawkward.”
“I can’t,” he says. His smile has captured my attention too many times tonight and I’m falling weak for it. “Oh, don’t forget your bag back there. I assume you have a date with your grandmother’sdiary.”
“Is it bad that I’m reading it without her?” The thought has crossed my mind a few times, but I’ve tried to push it out of my head and replace it with the undying curiosity I’mfeeling.
Jackson leans back into his seat and rolls his shoulders back. “Personally, I think it’s best to know someone—their past and present—before they're gone. Plus, I think you need to find out more about this Charlieguy.”
