Page 14 of Romantic

Annie’s here.

I hurry to the door like I’m worried she’ll disappear if I don’t get there fast enough. I don’t know why I’m nervous. This isn’t a date, but something about having Annie in my home for the first time has me buzzing with adrenaline.

Seeing Annie on my doorstep, all my worries evaporate. Just being near her makes me happy. “You made it!” I say, waving the spatula I’m still holding.

“Yes . . .” Her mouth is slightly ajar and her eyes are wide with surprise. “And . . . you’re . . . not wearing anything but an apron?”

“Oh!” I glance down at myself. My shorts are shorter than my apron. “Sorry! I forgot that I wasn’t wearing a shirt.”

“It’s a look,” Annie says, smiling and shaking her head in amusement.

“Not the one I was going for, I swear. Pepper didn’t like the shirt I was wearing.” I glance behind me hopeful of seeing both my daughter and a shirt. “I don’t know where she went.” I wave Annie in with the spatula. “Make yourself at home. I need to check on the grilled cheese.” I hurry back to the kitchen just in time to flip the sandwiches.

“I have two options,” Pepper says, carrying a couple shirts. “Oh Annie!” She drops my shirts on a kitchen chair and hugs Annie. “You’re finally here! I have so much to show you.”

I inspect the shirts Pepper brought and select my softest blue button-down.

“You wouldn’t believe how much flannel he has in that closet,” Pepper says to Annie as I take off my apron. I can feel Annie staring at me, and I put on the new shirt, fumbling a little with the buttons. I roll up the sleeves, and my eyes snag hers. She swiftly looks away. I rush back to the sandwiches, which thankfully are perfectly golden brown. A glop of gooey cheese melts out the side and hits the griddle with a sizzle.

***

With my shirt on, lunch plated, and Annie sitting across from me beaming, I’m feeling much saner. Why was I even worried? It’s Annie. She’s prattling on with Pepper while I quietly soak it all in. Seeing her again is like feeling the sun after a long, cold winter.

“Everyone was so nice,” she says about the interview. “Though I do think your mom may have oversold me. They were surprised to hear I had no classroom experience.”

“What about your poetry classes?” I ask.

“It’s different leading a discussion with tourists who choose to come to a poetry class than teaching eighth graders just checking off an English requirement.”

“If Annie’s hired, can I switch to that school?” Pepper asks.

“Changing schools is no fun. I don’t think you’d like it.”

“And I might not get the job,” says Annie.

“Of course you’ll get the job,” says Pepper. “Who wouldn’t want you at their school?”

“Well, we’ll see,” Annie says, picking up the other half of her grilled cheese.

“That’s a pretty ring.” Pepper points to a ring on Annie’s right hand, a gold band with a round milky white stone.

“Thank you! It’s a moonstone.”

“Who gave it to you?” Pepper asks. Annie blushes, and I know instantly I’m not going to like her answer.

“It’s from Jack.”

”Jack?” I ask. “The Jack I met? So . . . I gather he’s still in town.”

“Yes, Jack Willoughby,” Annie sets her sandwich down. “We’re kind of dating.”

“He’s your boyfriend?” Pepper’s eyes flash to mine. She looks so disappointed—I probably should have warned her. I knew there was a strong possibility Annie would be dating that guy, but I didn’t have the heart to tell Pepper. Probably because I didn’t know how to talk about Jack without revealing the depth of my feelings.

And yes, Pepper has a pretty good idea how I feel about Annie. She wasn’t far off when she told my mom that I wanted to marry her. But still, I prefer to keep my hopes and disappointments to myself. The only thing that can make a bad situation worse is other people’s pity. I know: I’ve been dealing with the pity of strangers for years.

That’s partly why I didn’t tell an eager Pepper about Jack when I came back to the car that morning after meeting him.

“So . . . how did it go?” she had asked as soon as I slid into the driver’s seat.