by Sarah Adams
Being rejected last night was definitely one of the worst moments of my life. But then, after we talked more and he shared everything about his ex, it was clear that Cooper’s heart is good, and even if he is a bit of a flirt, he’s not the type of guy to string me along for no reason. It was good he didn’t kiss me since he’s obviously not into me. It’s a tiny bit (read: massively) disheartening that he doesn’t feel the same way about me that I feel about him, but it’s better that he is upfront about it and not playing with my emotions and treating me like a passing encounter he never intends to follow through on (ahem, Brent).
Also, I don’t think I have anything to be embarrassed about, because I’m pretty sure Cooper is used to women trying to kiss him. I bet it’s a very regular occurrence. If he made out with every woman who ever tried to lock lips with him, it would turn into his full-time job. So, it’s fine. I’m going to choose not to freak out about it or dive into a hole of closed-off mortification in typical Lucy style and, instead, go about my day. I also might have mentally decided to take that memory and shove it somewhere deep down where I can never reach it again and pretend it never happened. Denial is healthy, right?
Cooper’s sweatpants are loose around my waist, and I have to roll them three times before leaving my room to make breakfast. My mom said she could keep Levi as long as I needed, but since I don’t have any appointments today (still building my clientele), I took the day off and am anxious to be reunited. I decide to get my day going early so I can pick him up this morning instead of later. Being a mom is kind of weird. One minute, you’re begging a sitter to take your terrible/snotty/sleepless kid off your hands, and then five minutes after they’re gone, you find yourself misty-eyed, staring at pictures you took yesterday of that darling/angelic/precious child and wondering if it’s too soon to go pick them up.
“Where’d you get those clothes?” My brother’s voice booms from behind me, making me startle and launch the cereal I was pouring into the air. It’s raining hearts, stars, horseshoes, clovers, and balloons.
I put my hand over my heart and let out a breathy laugh. “Gosh. You scared me.”
He’s not deterred. Drew’s eyes are like lasers on Cooper’s shirt draping my body like a tent. “Whose shirt? It looks familiar.”
Oh shoot, oh shoot, oh shoot. What am I going to say? Lie? Tell the truth? Drop my bowl of cereal and run out the door? Actually, yeah, that make-a-break-for-it option sounds pretty good.
I swallow and tiptoe around the truth. “Just from a guy.”
“Which guy?”
Which guy…? Good question. “Why does it matter?” My pitch is too high. It sounds like a siren alerting him to danger.
Drew’s eyes narrow on my shirt like he’s trying to place it. I’M SUCH AN IDIOT. Why did I have to parade around the house in this like a lovesick shmuck? “Looks like one of Cooper’s t-shirts.”
I laugh a booming HA-HA-HA and throw my head back like no real person ever does when they are laughing because I’m a terrible liar. “Cooper’s shirt! Now that’s funny!”
His face is devoid of amusement. We look like an illustration of opposites. “Not really. What’s wrong with you?”
I wipe an imaginary laughter tear. “Nothing. It’s just a funny thought. Me, wearing one of your friend’s shirts. How would I have even gotten it? Broken into his house and stolen it without him knowing so I could wear it and smell it forever?”
He sighs. “Tell me right now—did you do that, Lucy?”
“Oh my gosh! No!” I pick up my bowl of cereal to carry it to my room and escape the brother inquisition. “I can’t believe you even asked me that.”
The moment my back is to him, I widen my eyes and puff out a relieved breath then hightail it to my room. Pretending to be angry at his lack of faith in me works, and Drew doesn’t bug me the rest of the morning about the clothes. I then try to concoct a believable story about the origin of these garments so I can wear them around the house for the rest of my life. Cooper is never getting them back.
“Helllloooo, anyone home?” I yell into my parents’ house.
“Up here, honey!” says my mom from upstairs.
I take the stairs two at a time like I’ve done forever then follow the sound of laughing all the way into their bonus room. I stop on the threshold and smile at the sight of what looks like a room struck by a hurricane of fun. All around, there are pillows forming various paths to end tables covered in blankets. There are plastic laundry hampers turned upside down and a long blanket tied to the running ceiling fan. My mom is standing like a flamingo, perched on the arm of the couch, and my dad is lying face down, acting like a human bridge with his feet on the couch and chest on the coffee table. Levi is walking, arms outstretched like wings, using my dad as a balance beam.
“Hi, hun! How’s your day?” asks my mom like this is the most normal situation to find them in.
I laugh and step in farther, ready to ask her what they’re up to, when the room collectively erupts in one giant “NOOOO!”, making me jump back and nearly fall onto my butt.
“What!” I ask, clutching my heart and wondering if it’s possible to die of fright.
“Mom, that’s lava!” Levi says, eyes wide and pointing to the floor where I was about to step.
“Ohhhh, I see now.” Suddenly, all the bridges and pillows make sense. “How do I get over there to you, then?”
“You have to take the fluffy golden road, over to the reading rainbow, and up the super slipper mountain.”
My mom raises her hand. “I made it up the slipper mountain, but I had a casualty.” She points to her foot. Apparently, if you touch the lava, you lose that extremity for the remainder of the game.
“And that,” says Levi, pointing to the blanket swirling in the middle of the room, “is the tornado. Don’t get near it or it will suck you up!” Levi’s eyes are shining as he relays the rest of the rules to me. His cheeks are rosy and bright, and my heart stretches painfully.
I felt like a failure having to come home and move in with Drew after leaving to make a fresh start in a new town. It wasn’t even that there was anything wrong with Nashville or my family or friends. I just felt this overwhelming need to try something new. Make a change. And yeah, maybe get away from all the tourists thinking cowboy boots and hats are the proper attire for our city. Believe me, there is no faster way to be hated by Nashville natives than to dress up like you’re going to a honky-tonk for brunch.
But no matter how hard I tried to make Georgia feel like home, it never worked. There was always a gaping hole that Levi and I could both feel. And now, being here and seeing my kid happy and reunited with my parents, I know coming home was the right thing to do.
“How was your night?” Mom asks after I’ve made it down the fluffy golden road, over the reading rainbow, and up the slipper mountain to stand on the armrest with her.
My mom and I look remarkably similar, which honestly, I’m grateful for. I’ve always looked young for my age, and even now, people assume I’m Levi’s nanny most of the time, but I don’t hate it because it just means I’ll age as gracefully as her.
“It was great,” I say as we hug while trying not to topple off the armrest.
Suddenly, I hear her take in a sharp sniff, and she pulls back to look at me. “YOU SPENT THE NIGHT WITH A MAN!”
My eyes widen, and my mouth falls open. How did she know that?!
“You did what, young lady?” asks my dad. It’s so hard to take him seriously while he’s planking across the furniture.
“Oh, hush, Scott. Your daughter is not a baby anymore. She’s allowed to spend the night with a man.”
“Not unless she has a ring on her finger and I’ve handed her off in front of God and a preacher.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “You do know how we got our precious grandson, right?”
Levi’s head suddenly pops up and swivels in our direction. “How did you get me?”
“The stork,” we all say in practiced unison, and lu
ckily, Levi accepts our answer for now.
Mom’s eyes whip back to me, and she jumps to the ground, yanking me down with her. “Now, come on, I’m putting on a pot of coffee and you’re gonna tell me all about him.”
“La, la, la. I don’t want to hear any of that heathen talk!” my dad yells at our retreating figures, but I can hear the amusement in his voice.
“Then plug your ears, old man.” Mom drags me down the hall, nearly pulling my arm out of its socket.
“Levi!” I bellow over my shoulder. “Come save me from your grammy! I’m going to need a rescue mission!”
Mom keeps tugging me. “Levi, if you stay out of the kitchen for fifteen minutes, I’ll bake you chocolate chip cookies and let you eat them for lunch.”
“Oooh, you’re ruthless.”
Once we’re in the kitchen, she turns to face me and cocks a sassy eyebrow. “You’re gonna have to up your ante if you want to play with the big kids, darlin’. Now, sit and tell me all about him.”
I pull out a kitchen chair and do as I’m told. “How do you even know I spent the night with a man?”
“Unless you’ve changed your perfume over to Old Spice, it was beyond obvious. You smell like the men’s body wash aisle, and I do mean that in the best way.”
I smell like Cooper? Why does that thought make me feel all tingly and hot?
“Well, you’re right. I did hang out with a man last night, but not in the way you’re thinking. We’re just friends.”
“Pumpkin, I’m not stupid. You don’t come away smelling like your friend when you’re just hanging out.” I wish she wouldn’t do that—plant ideas in my head that shouldn’t be there. It’s every parent’s responsibility to think their child poops rainbows, but she shouldn’t be trying to make me think that about myself too. I tried going after someone above my level before…it didn’t work out for me, and I don’t care to do it again. Cooper had a chance to prove me wrong last night, and he didn’t. He pulled away from my kiss, and that told me everything I needed to know.
“I only smell like him because after we got done swimming, he let me wear his clothes.”
Her eyebrow rises another centimeter into the smug-mother-who-knows-everything zone.
“Mom, I’m serious. Please don’t make this something it’s not. I’ve embarrassed myself in front of him more times than I can count, and it’s clear that he is not interested in me like I am in him. I need to get him out of my head, and your meddling is not helping.”
“But—”
“Mom.”
“I just—”
I cut her off with a zip it up gesture and matching sound.
Her shoulders slump over adorably, and she rolls her eyes like she’s the teen and I’m sucking all of her fun. “Fine, I’ll zip it up. But are you SURE he’s not interested and you’re not maybe projecting your own insecurities onto the situation?” Clearly, she doesn’t know the meaning of zip it up.
“Unfortunately, yes…I’m positive he’s not interested.”
“I’m interested in your sister,” I say to Drew after he takes the last sip of his second beer. It’s Friday night, a few days after my pool adventure with Lucy; and yep, I did bring Drew out for drinks, buy him wings to butter him up, and then get him a little bit buzzed in hopes that he would not knock my teeth out when I announced I had feelings for Lucy. I also brought him to a crowded sports bar so there would be witnesses.
He blinks with wide eyes, reminding me of Lucy a little, and then slowly sets down his empty glass. “Now the large basket of wings makes sense. You probably should have thrown in some jalapeño poppers too.”
I tap my finger on the table, debating flagging down the waitress. By the slightly grim look marring Drew’s brow, though, I get the feeling cheese-filled peppers aren’t going to be my saving grace tonight.
I wait for him to speak, to acknowledge what I said about Lucy, but instead, he turns his eyes up to the TV and is suddenly so engrossed in a hockey game you’d think he was an actual fan. Which he’s not. Drew is not into sports, but apparently, tonight he’s the biggest Preds fan you’ve ever seen.
He throws his hands up and groans when they miss a shot, and I blink at him. “You don’t even know what the little black thing they’re fighting over on the ice is called,” I say, narrowing my eyes and daring to call his bluff.
He swings his gaze to me and smirks. “Puck off, Cooper.”
Sport puns—this is bad. Uncharted territory, even. “Okay, can we stop pretending we like hockey and just have it out? You’re pissed I like your sister. Just say it.”
Drew’s jaw ticks, but he shakes his head. “Not pissed.” He says it in the same tone a woman uses when she says I’m fine. She’s never fine, men, and you’re going to sleep on the couch that night.
I stare at Drew, waiting for more, but he just seals up his lips and leans back in his chair to aim his attention at the TV again. I’m going to buy him a shirt that says World’s Biggest Hockey Fan.
“That’s it? You’re not going to talk about it with me? Just going to pout and watch your new favorite sport?”
He cuts his eyes to me. “Really? You think it’s a good idea to poke me until I fight you?”
“Yeah. I’d rather you fight me than ignore me for sports. I never thought I’d sympathize with a married woman so much, but tonight has changed me.”
Drew looks like he wants to smile but has already set his face to frown mode and won’t budge. “Look, I’m not upset, because I know I can trust you…”
I let out a breath I’ve been holding all night. I gotta say, I didn’t see him—
“…to ignore your feelings and stay away from Lucy like we discussed.” Oh. Well, that was a letdown. “I appreciate you owning up to it, though, telling it to me straight. You’re a good friend, Coop.”
If that isn’t some manipulative crap, I don’t know what is.
He reaches across the table and slaps me on the back. It jars my body a little, and I feel lost. He’s just masterfully steered this conversation in exactly the direction he wants it to go, leaving no room for argument. He’s brilliant, actually, because he almost managed to make me think I’m on his side on this, like I really never intended to go after Lucy. This way, we both get to be the good guy and leave here as jolly best friends. So jolly.
Drew shifts the conversation and tells me that, this Monday, he’ll be headed to Costa Rica for three weeks on a volunteer medical trip. He’s been doing these once a year since he graduated med school, and he spends grueling hours providing obstetric and gynecological care for women who otherwise might not receive it. It’s amazing and yet another reason why I like Drew and care about his opinion. He’s a good guy.
I shift in my chair, deciding to press the subject one more time. “Right. I hope it’s a good trip. But…just for the sake of conversation…it wouldn’t be so terrible if I dated Lucy, right?”
He scoffs and looks past me to flag down our waitress, holding up his empty glass. “It would be the absolute worst thing in the world for her.”
My eyebrows rise. “The worst? Wow. That’s…bad.”
The waitress walks up, and Drew orders another beer, asking me if I want one too, but I decline because I have a policy to only drink when I’m happy. And I don’t feel very happy anymore.
Once the waitress walks away, Drew leans his elbows on the table and looks at me. “Listen, even though it makes us sound dumb to admit it, we’re best friends. I’d braid you a bracelet if I knew how. But really, all that means is I’ve seen too much to be comfortable with you dating my sister. You and I both know you’re incapable of a committed relationship, and Lucy needs someone who is going to commit to her and Levi for the rest of their lives. She deserves that.”
Drew is looking at me like we’re on the same team, like I’m going to nod my head and adamantly agree that I’m a player and will never be the family man Lucy needs. Well, guess what? I’m not nodding, because I don’t agree. In fact, I feel a little angry.
Problem is, I don’t have a right to be angry at Drew. I mean, I do in that he’s being a crappy friend to me by shutting me down right away, but it’s not entirely his fault. I was never honest with him, never told him about how long I was with Janie before I proposed—how I wanted to be married.
And now, I’m sick of dating around. I can’t keep going like that anymore. It was a phase I grew out of quickly, and now I just feel lonely. Of course, Drew knows none of this because I never thought he really needed to know. We always keep our conversations pretty surface level, which is why I’m annoyed that he isn’t even willing to talk this out with me. Ask me any questions. Nothing.
If he did, I’d tell him everything—about Janie, and how much I missed her at first, and why I had to move away. I’d even tell him about how, a couple of weeks ago (before Lucy even came into town), our friend Molly called me up at ten o’clock, seeing if I wanted to come over to her place and hang out. We both knew what that meant, though, so I told her I was pretty tired and just wanted to chill. I invited her over to watch a movie with me, and she declined, so I watched The Holiday by myself.
I want to tell Drew all of this. I want to tell him I want to watch The Holiday with Lucy. Explain that I don’t know how to interact with kids, but I’m ready to learn. I would never string Lucy along, especially given her circumstances in life. I wouldn’t be bringing this up tonight if I wasn’t serious about my intentions.
But I don’t tell him any of that, because at this point, it will sound like I’m being defensive, and no one wants to have to convince another person of their good qualities. If he doesn’t think I’m good enough for Lucy, maybe I’m not…or maybe I just need to convince him I can be.
I’m not ready to tell Drew everything about me yet, but I think I should start to be more honest, at least little by little. “I get it,” I say, leaning back in my chair and trying to find the right words. “Maybe I’m not right for Lucy, but I do think I’m ready to change some stuff in my life…pursue a serious relationship with someone.”