I sigh because I know she's right, and if I’m being honest with myself, I miss Spencer, even though it’s only been two days since I saw him. I’m sure his intentions were somewhat noble, although poorly executed.
“I’m kind of scared.” My admission surprises me. “I don’t want it to end, but maybe that desire is so strong that I fail to see a sign that we won’t work in the long run. It happened before.”
Piper rests her chin on her propped arm with a sly smile. “Maybe you will find the puzzle piece to answer that. Sometimes we only find those pieces bylistening.”
She’s right. It’s irritating because I feel like marriage and motherhood turned her into a confident wizard.
And hopefully one day, I can see relationships from her angle.
Nervously, I look at the oven timer, knowing every minute brings me closer to seeing Spencer.
* * *
Even though Ihave the security code, I press the doorbell. He doesn’t know I'm in Lake Spark since we had radio silence after this morning’s text chat.
Glancing down at Pickles under the porch light, I warn him, “Don’t look at me like that. You’re not right.” He woofs a sound.
The moment Spencer opens the door, my throat feels tight, and I'm unable to speak, as my heart wants to burst out of my chest, and I can't tear my eyes away from his that are glimmering with hope, and the white t-shirt he has on only adds to the chiseled-muscle, haven’t-slept look. He has clearly had a few days of turmoil.
“April, you’re here.” A smile tugs on his lips, but he’s unsure.
Remembering why I am here, I clear my throat and hold up the casserole dish. “Well, I can’t have you burning down your perfect kitchen now, can I?”
“Macaroni and cheese?” He opens the door wide, stepping aside to allow me to come in. Pickles heads straight to his spot on the couch.
“Yeah. It’s crackers, by the way… the secret ingredient, I mean,” I say as I walk straight to the kitchen, and I feel his presence behind me, a heavy cloud of mixed hurt and desire.
“Odd, but okay.”
I set the dish down next to the stove. “I can write down the instructions for re-heating since Hadley is asleep. I’m going to assume Hadley and the macaroni and cheese was a ploy?” I give him a knowing glare.
He smiles awkwardly and rubs a hand across his short-scuffed chin. “Yet here you are, knowing me so well.”
Damn it, so true. Deep down I knew the chances of Hadley having a meltdown today of all days were slim, it’s the oldest trick in the book, and I willingly played along.
“I’ll head back after I write down those instructions.”
“Like hell you are.” He’s direct and sharp. “It’s dark out, and you’re not driving back.”
“Fine. I’ll stay in the guest room. I’m familiar with that room.” Again, I knew this would probably happen too.
A long silence overcomes us as our eyes lock and don’t let go. We’re lingering in an inevitable.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Can we talk?”
I fold my arms. “Might as well, since I’m here.”
My demeanor amuses him, I can tell. He walks to his wine fridge to pull out a bottle of white. I recognize the bottle, as it’s from Olive Owl, the winery of my cousin’s wife’s family.
“Let’s go outside, I’ll turn on the fire. It’s better if we talk there.”
I nod, as it doesn’t sound like a terrible suggestion, but I stop in my tracks when I see he finally hung the photos from the photo shoot. “See? Perfect décor for the place.” I still when I see he added a photo of the three of us along the line of photos. I want to smile but remember why I'm here. I know he's watching me, though.
A few minutes later, we are outside on the patio with the dark lake ahead. The glow of the fire and light from inside the house ensures we can see one another as we sit on the same sofa, but with enough distance between us. With glasses of wine in hand, I notice how beautiful this scene is.
“How come we’ve never really sat out here?” I wonder.
“Because we run a risk of you swimming in the lake,” he jokes.
