by Lea Coll
“They did?” Now that she’d mentioned it, the white siding of her house was clean and her shutters were a glossy black.
“Luke stops by to check on my from time to time and noticed my siding was moldy and the paint was chipping on the shingles. Is he single?”
“Luke is dating my friend, Emma. She’s an attorney at the public defender’s office.”
“Oh, that’s right. The new girl from the city.”
I laughed. The residents would probably always refer to her as the new girl from the city. Emma had transferred here from Baltimore last year, and it was supposed to be a temporary position. When she met Luke, everything changed. She loved it here and stayed.
“What about his brother, Sawyer? He’s so handsome.”
My heart picked up at the mention of him and I thought of how I’d felt when he touched me the night before, the intimacy of dinner, and how much effort he’d put into helping me with the course. “I think he’s single, but I’m not his type.” I took another large bite of my muffin hoping Ms. Gladys wouldn’t ask any more questions about him.
“Well, how could you possibly know that?”
I finished chewing and took a sip of the lemonade. “I heard him talking to our friends. Emma asked him about me and he said I was too much for him. I’m pretty loud.”
“I don’t know. I can’t see Sawyer saying something like that.”
Irritated now, I said, “He did. I heard him.”
“Maybe it was taken out of context. He’s such a sweet boy.”
He helped me with my course. He’d helped Gladys with her house. “He’s a great guy, just not for me.” And he was most definitely not a boy. I thought back to how I could feel the muscles in his body each time I’d bumped into him. He was hard everywhere.
She hummed under breath, but didn’t respond.
“Now, let’s talk about what the Garden Association is up to this spring.” I brushed the remaining crumbs off my hands and lap and reached for my recorder.
“Well, we’re gearing up for the big garden tour. We’ll charge for tickets and offer a prize for the best garden.”
I nodded. This was nothing new, but I knew Ms. Gladys liked to tell me as if it was.
“The library wanted us to hold classes in their new garden for the kids.”
“Really? That would be amazing.” It was good for older people to be around young kids, it kept them active. It could make a good story too. “Are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know. It seems like a huge undertaking and I’m not young. How will I corral little children?”
Glancing at her, I realized that she was looking frail. “I can help.”
“I don’t know. Do you think that will be enough?” She thought quietly for a minute. “I know! We’ll ask that young man, Sawyer, to help too. Perfect.” She smiled.
I didn’t argue with her, but I knew what she was up to. She was matchmaking and I wished it were that easy.
“Will you ask him for me, dear?”
“Of course.” I’d need to ask Sawyer for another favor. The last time he wanted a date in return. What would he want this time?
“And none of that texting nonsense. Ask him in person. That’s how you meet a man.”
“Okay, Ms. Gladys.”
She stood then, effectively ending our conversation.
I put my notebook away. “Let me help you with the pitcher and muffins.” I picked up the pitcher and tray of muffins, following her into her home.
“Let me wrap up a few muffins to take to your young man.” She bustled around her bright yellow kitchen, which was dated but cozy, pulling out a basket with a cloth napkin and filling it with muffins. I wondered if I’d painted my kitchen yellow to capture the feeling of happiness I always felt in Ms. Glady’s kitchen and in her presence?
“And I’ll ask him how they were next time I see him, so you better deliver them right now while they’re fresh.”
I sighed as she covered the muffins with a napkin and handed me the basket. “Yes, Ms. Gladys.”
“And don’t forget to ask him about helping me out with the garden library courses.”
“I will.” She could be exasperating at times with her meddling, but she was sweet and I couldn’t deny her. Now that my grandmother was gone she was the closest thing I had to one.
Then she was shooing me out the door. “Tell Sawyer I said hello and thanks again for everything he did on my house.”
“I will. You take care, Ms. Gladys.” But she’d already closed the door behind me.
Ms. Gladys lived fairly close to campus so I took a right onto Washington Avenue, letting the sun warm my face. I couldn’t believe Ms. Gladys had effectively manipulated me so I’d need to see Sawyer in person to deliver her muffins. Although, if my quickening pulse was any indication, I liked the thought of seeing him again and asking for help.
When I reached campus, it was lunchtime, so groups of students sat on the quad laughing and eating. I walked down the path to Sawyer’s building, passing his friend and fellow professor, Owen, speaking to a few students. One tall woman with long blond hair touched his arm and laughed. It seemed innocent enough but something about the way he looked at her felt off to me. Almost like she was more than a student to him.
Thinking back to Sawyer’s comments about how he had to be careful when he spoke with students, I got the impression that Owen didn’t worry about it. He probably took whatever was offered. Maybe even encouraged it.
I’d almost walked past Sawyer’s office when I heard him call out, “Stella, is that you?”
I stopped, confused as to where I was and what I was doing here. “Um, yeah.” Then I remembered I was supposed to be delivering muffins to him. “These are for you,” I said, shoving the basket into his hands.
“Thanks. Did you make these?” he asked, looking from the basket to me.
“No. Ms. Gladys said to give them to you and to thank you for everything you did with her house.”
“Oh, she didn’t need to make me muffins. She fed us the day we were there.” He smiled, placing the muffins on his desk. “And I’m happy to help.”
“Oh, and she wanted me to ask you something. Can I come in?”
“Of course.” He gestured for me to walk into the room.
I barely noticed when my shoulder brushed his chest as I walked by. I still had an uneasy feeling about watching Owen interact with the female student. I sat and waited for Sawyer to round his desk and have a seat.
“What did she need?”
“The library asked her to conduct some gardening classes for children and she needs help.”
His brow furrowed. “Okay, why does she think I can help? I don’t really have any expertise with gardening.”
Should I tell him this was her way of matchmaking? Seeing Owen with those girls was a good reminder that two of my exes cheated on me with their students. Just then, two young women walked past the office giggling.
“Stella?” Sawyer asked, diverting my attention back to him.
“Oh, she asked me to help and then told me how you helped her with the house. I guess she thought you’d be willing. I think it’s more to keep the kids’ attention and guide them. We wouldn’t be teaching.”
“Okay, as long as it works with my schedule, I’d be happy to help. Volunteering in the community is something I like to do and I can submit it to the tenure committee too.”
“I volunteer at the library to read to the kids during storytime. It’s a lot of fun.” Warmth filled me as I thought of those mornings, interacting with the children, their joy singing and dancing to a song or listening to a book. How sometimes a child would climb into my lap when I was reading. It was worth listening to the audio ahead of time and memorizing the story. With the younger ones, I sometimes made the story up to fit the pictures.
“You do?” His eyes on mine were warm and appraising.
“Yeah, I love kids.” I wasn’t sure why I was telling him this—giving him a glimpse of mys
elf. Maybe I wanted to prove to him that I wasn’t the girl he thought I was. I wasn’t loud or flighty. Or maybe I was those things, but I was so much more. If he’d take a chance and get to know me—the real me. I rubbed my hands together. “Okay, I think that’s all. I’ll let you know about the gardening class.” I stood up and turned to go.
“Stella?”
“Yeah?” I turned back to him. He’d stood with his hands in his pockets, looking uncomfortable, vulnerable.
“About last night—”
“Oh yeah, thanks so much for your help.”
“Of course. I’m always happy to help out a friend.”
My head shot up at that. Was that what we were now—friends?
His warm brown eyes settled on mine. “But you left in a hurry. Was it something I said or did?”
Dr. Hirsch’s words about being authentic, revealing my true feelings filtered through my head, but what could I say? That I’d overheard him talking about me weeks ago? And what would it matter? “No. It was late and I was tired. You were so helpful.” I cringed. Why couldn’t I stop saying that word? “I can’t thank you enough.”
Immediately, I felt guilty. I was covering up what happened and how I felt. I should come clean with him.
“Sure. Did you want to meet up again?”
I couldn’t tell from his expression if he was asking because he enjoyed my company or he felt a duty to help me since I was his date for the dinner. I hoped he’d enjoyed my company as much as I did his. “I need to choose a textbook—”
“I can help with that too.”
The desire to take whatever help he offered with the course was strong, but I didn’t want to admit that I didn’t know to pick a textbook and couldn’t read one. “Oh, I don’t want to keep taking advantage of you.”
“You’re not. I really don’t mind.”
Could I work closely with him and not want more? This was a good opportunity to be true to my feelings, so I said, “Okay. I’d like that.” I started to leave again when Sawyer said, “Have you met up with anyone yet?”
I paused, my hand in the doorway, and turned my head to meet his gaze.
He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. “You know, through online dating?”
So much had happened this morning, I completely forgot to check to see if that guy had responded to my message. “I had a match and I messaged him. I need to see if he responded.”
“Well, if you decide to meet him, will you please be careful?”
“I will, Sawyer.” It was sweet he was concerned, especially because I’d never had anyone look out for me. Lindsey was oblivious to what was going on in our family. She’d moved to Salisbury after college graduation and hadn’t looked back, even though she lived only a few hours away. My mother was too wrapped up in her depression and my father was the king of avoidance. It was just me and had been since my grandmother died.
I knew I needed to get out of his office before I said something I couldn’t take back, like, ‘I like talking to you. I like you being concerned for my safety. I like you.’
So I walked out. Ms. Gladys’s attempt at matchmaking was sweet, but misguided. There was no way I was a good match for Sawyer. He needed someone smart, who could keep up with him—another professor, someone his equal, definitely not me.
I CHECKED THE DATING APP when I got back to the office. Nate replied, saying that he liked to travel but didn’t have much of an opportunity to do so. He said he hadn’t even been outside of Maryland. Yikes. I debated replying at all. My finger hovered over the ‘delete match’ option. Should I give him another chance? I shivered, thinking of the other men on the profile pics who looked like they didn’t even have jobs. And Nate’s profile said he was a high school gym teacher. He was good looking and employed. I shouldn’t be so picky. I was determined to meet someone and I needed to make a concerted effort.
I decided to respond with my experience studying abroad in grad school. We’d gone to London and I’d had the opportunity to see so many countries on that trip. It was amazing even though I’d spent a decent chunk of my inheritance money on it. My parents never took us anywhere, so that had been my chance to see the world. Feeling better for making an effort, I sent the message.
Searching for a textbook for my course was daunting. So many options came up and I had no idea how to sort through them. I wanted to choose a respected publisher so the dean wouldn’t have a reason to turn me down. I shot a quick text to Sawyer.
Stella: Researching textbook options now. It’s so overwhelming.
Trying not to second guess my decision to reach out to Sawyer and not keep my distance from him, I checked the paper’s online media for comments from readers. I’d gotten a huge response to my question on going Dutch versus men paying for online date dinners. The consensus was to go Dutch until you’ve been on a few dates with the same guy and feel a connection. Or you see the relationship going somewhere. Not to use the app for free meals. Although there were plenty of responses saying they did just that.
My phone buzzed with an incoming text. Sawyer: I can help. Can you come over tomorrow night?
I needed his help but I didn’t want a repeat of the intimate dinner the other night. Stella: I don’t want to impose on you. I’ll bring take out?
Sawyer: Sounds great.
Stella: pizza ok?
There weren’t many options in town for take out. It was essentially pizza from Nina’s and that was it.
Sawyer: Perfect.
A flush spread through my body at that word. I suddenly wanted this to be real. I wanted Sawyer to be the guy I was messaging to get to know better, to ask out on a date. I wanted to be the woman for him. The urge was overwhelming and I didn’t know why. Yes, I was physically attracted to Sawyer and he’d been sweet and helpful, but that wasn’t enough to start a relationship with someone. You needed mutual respect and we didn’t have that. He wanted a nice quiet woman who was smart and not flighty. That was so not me.
Stella: Great, see you tomorrow. Let me know what toppings you like.
Sawyer: I’ll eat anything. Get what you want.
That got me, because every guy I’d dated ordered what he wanted.
A notification on the dating app popped up with a message from Nate. He’d sent a lengthy message talking about how great it was I’d traveled and how he’d love to hear all about my trip over dinner. Was it too soon for that? I thought people messaged for weeks or even months before taking the step to meet. I didn’t know what to do.
Glancing at my text message exchange with Sawyer, I typed before I could re-think it: Stella: This guy wants to meet up on Match. Is it too soon?
Sawyer: Didn’t you just start messaging him?
I swallowed hard. Yes.
Sawyer: Then it’s probably too soon. You should probably do a background check on him before you meet-up.
I could at least search his name online, his social media, and a quick case search on the Maryland Judiciary site.
Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I don’t know much about him yet. I couldn’t be sure Nate was even his real name.
Sawyer: The scholarship dinner is next weekend. It’s black-tie.
I’d need a dress. I was worried about meeting with Sawyer to go over my course, but we still had the dinner to go to where we’d be dressed up. The more I was with him the harder it was to keep my feelings for him friendly. K- thanks for letting me know.
Sawyer: Thanks for helping me out ☺
An emoji? Who said Sawyer was awkward and not social? Of course. Don’t forget you’re helping me too.
Trying to focus on work, I quickly dictated my notes on Ms. Gladys’s plans for the gardening society.
“Stella!” My boss bellowed from his glass-windowed enclosed office.
I made my way through the maze of cubicles and filing cabinets to his doorway.
“You called?” I smiled leaning against the doorframe.
“What is this nonsense on social media?” He turned h
is computer screen so I could see he’d pulled up the paper’s feed with my survey on who should pay on online dates.
“I’m doing an ongoing series on online dating and relationships.”
“Why?”
“Bob, look at the number of likes, comments, and shares on that post alone. It’s crazy. College kids are taking the time to read our site. They don’t have time to date but they have time to do this.” I pointed at the screen where it indicated over twenty shares and two hundred likes.
“Total waste of time,” he grumbled under his breath. “This isn’t news.”
I had the same argument with him every few weeks and I was starting to think he’d never come around. “I’m developing a course at the college on the importance of online media. If colleges teach it—”
“You’re teaching at the college now?”
“You’re the one who wanted me to be the advisor for the student paper. Neil liked me so much he told the dean I should develop this course and teach it this summer.”
“As long as it won’t interfere with your job here.”
“It won’t.”
He cleared his throat and waved me off. “Get back to it then.”
I knew he wouldn’t compliment me. He was gruff and only gave negative feedback, as if that would motivate me.
Going back to my desk, I was antsy. I relished going out to events to cover them for the paper. I hated being in the office. Looking at my schedule for the rest of the week, there wasn’t much going on around town. The marina was still under construction, farmers’ market as usual on Sunday. No elections, no festivals until Memorial Day weekend. Pulling out my phone, I texted Ashley.
Stella: We need to plan something.
Ashley: Hello to you too. Plan what?
Stella: Something. Going crazy at the office. Engagement party, birthday party? You got any ideas?
Ashley: Bug Emma and Samantha. One of them should have an engagement party. Your birthday is the only one coming up.
Stella: That’s right. Should we plan my party?
Ashley: You’re not supposed to plan your own party.
Stella: When you’re me, you do. It wasn’t like my mom planned parties from her bedroom or my dad even remembered them. If I wanted a celebration I made my own.