“No, thank you.”
“Well, enjoy!” she says, and shoots Blake another playful smile.
I roll my eyes. If he were here by himself, she’d probably leave him her number on the bill.
“She was nice,” he says as he digs in.
I smirk. “She sure was.”
The pasta is to die for, and I forget all about Sacha. I’m pleasantly impressed when I taste the grilled scallops too. What a nice place. I picture Momma and Daddy here together, smiling, flirting, and struggling not to talk about us kids too much. My heart sinks at the thought.
“Thank you,” Blake says. “Thank you for taking me here.”
I smile up at him. “You deserve to be romanced, Blake Taylor. You’re a very special person,” I say, still teasing him.
He laughs. “I hope you don’t respect me this much in bed later.” He winks.
I crack up, and an older couple sitting a few tables away turn to us. We smile politely at them and turn back to our entrées. It’s just the four of us here tonight – the place is not busy at all.
We both polish off our meals and order the chocolate surprise and coffee for dessert. Apparently, the chocolate surprise is homemade brownies, topped with fresh whipped cream, chocolate chips and caramel sauce. My stomach waits impatiently.
We both dig in as soon as Sacha sets our dessert plates in front of us. I have another flashback. It always happens when I’m with Blake – we’ve shared so many memories. We’re about ten years old, and sitting opposite each other at a picnic table, digging into an enormous Sundae.
He still has the same grin he had back then; sweet but also mischievous, as if he’s about to get you into trouble, and you still want to follow him and see where he takes you. I love that smile.
He’s clearly enjoying the brownie, but as I study him, his smile fades slowly.
“So when are you heading back home?” he asks between bites.
“Saturday morning. I really should get back home and take care of stuff, look for a job,” I explain. “I can’t live this in-between life much longer. Crashing on my old bed, and hanging out with Momma and you is great and all…” my words drift off. The thing is… this isn’t real. My real life is back in Burlington.
“You think you’ll be able to find another job easily?” he asks.
I smile, touched by his concern – as brash as he can be sometimes, Blake has always been sweet like that. “I think so… the economy is not too bad in Burlington, and apparently I’ll be getting glowing references from my manager, and the top boss too. I need to drop by the store and pick them up next week.”
He stares down at his brownie. He toys around with the few bites left. The cream has melted, and all the chocolate chips have disappeared. “Will you see Parker again?” he asks, not looking at me.
I smile. He knows his name is Peter – he refuses to acknowledge it. “I don’t know… probably. He wants to get back together.”
He raises his gaze to mine. “What about you? Is that what you want?”
I shrug. “I really don’t know what I want,” I admit. “I’m still so confused.”
He rubs at his beard. “So you’ve forgotten all about the whole ditching you at the altar thing,” he says sarcastically. “You’re a bigger person than I am.”
I draw a breath. “No, I haven’t forgotten. I’m just trying to get past it.”
He fiddles with the collar of his shirt – he’s abandoned his brownie. “Why should you? Why does he deserve your forgiveness?”
I swallow hard. “Because he’s given me seven years of his life, and we’ve experienced so much together. That’s not nothing.”
He leans back in his chair and stares off into the distance. A soft edgy laugh escapes him. “I’m sure you can’t wait to get back to your perfect life.”
Now I’m starting to get annoyed. Why is he being such an asshole again? We were having such a nice time. Why does he always have to ruin it? Why can’t we just get along?
“My life isn’t perfect.”
He’s still not looking at me. “I’m sure you can’t wait to hop in your little fancy white SUV, go play some golf, and get back to your fancy condo with your big walk-in closet full of clothes and shoes.”
