“You’re up,” I said, entering the room.
He glanced at me, placing a hand over his forehead. “I think my fever broke.”
I joined him on the couch. “You look better.”
“Feel better too.” He turned to glance at me. “By the way, with all this sitting around I’ve been doing today, I found a few answers for you.”
“Answers to what?”
“You mentioned at the game you wanted to know how many licks it took to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Uh-huh…”
“Purdue University did a study on that—”
“Hold on. A university did a study on Tootsie Pops? Seriously?”
“Yep. I’m not pulling your leg. You can look it up yourself. Go to Tootsie’s website. Anyway, they created a licking machine, and it took three hundred and sixty-four licks. Some human volunteers tried it, and they came up with an average of two hundred and fifty-two licks.”
“Look at you, Mr. Researcher,” I said with a smile. “You go.”
He ran a hand over the back of his head and smiled self-consciously. “You wanted to know, so I looked it up.”
“That was sweet. I’m thoroughly charmed by your efforts to find information on my Tootsie Pop conundrum.”
“You’re teasing me again, aren’t you?”
I shook my head. “I’m dead serious this time.”
“Then you’ll be glad to know I found something even better.”
“Really? Don’t keep me in suspense.”
He smiled, clearly pleased with himself. “I located this guy online who produces top-of-the-line art supplies, and I ordered you some. All morning I compared reviews from different suppliers, and this guy seemed the best. You should receive everything in a couple of days.”
My mouth fell open, and I stared at him for a long time. “You did that for me?”
He nodded. “Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I just thought you’d enjoy the products.”
“Thank you.” I moved closer to him on the couch, my eyes moistening. “That was so kind of you. I’m overwhelmed that you would do that for me. I’ll pay you back.” Emotion welled up in me, and it wasn’t because of the supplies. It was that he’d taken the time to compare reviews, to do the research for something that mattered to me.
“It’s a gift. Please accept it.” His gaze narrowed in on me, and he must have seen tears gathering in my eyes. “Please don’t cry. If you do, I’ll have to pull you into my arms, and I don’t want to make you sick.”
I smiled, just as a tear slipped through and rolled over my eyelashes and streaked down my face. “I wouldn’t mind. It would be worth it.”
“As long as you let me take care of you when you get sick.”
“That’s not going to happen. I have a strong immune system, remember?”
He scooted over until he was right next to me, and then he placed both arms around my back and pulled me into an embrace. He kissed the side of my face and hovered over my lips, lingering, like he was trying to decide if he should risk that kind of kiss since he didn’t want to make me sick. He smiled just the slightest bit. “I don’t know how to make chicken soup, but I can order you some.”
“There it is!” I pulled back, my eyes widening, my mouth pulling into a smile. “I knew you had another dimple.”
He drew back and looked at me like I was seeing things. “No, I don’t have a dimple—just the chin cleft.”
“You do, I just saw it.”
He shook his head and laughed. “Abby, what would I do without your antics?”
“You’d be lost—that’s what.”
He grew serious as he studied me, his eyes swallowing me up with so much intensity that goosebumps spread over my arms. “I believe you’re absolutely right about that.”
Chapter 16
Colin
“Tell me about your family,” Abby said. “I want to know everything about you.”
We’d been sitting on my couch for the past hour talking nonstop. I hated to be sick, but with Abby here, it wasn’t so bad. “There’s not much to tell.” I knew eventually she’d ask about my family, but I’d hoped she wouldn’t for a while.
“Do your parents live nearby?” she asked.
I shook my head. “They’ve both passed away.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My mother died in childbirth so I never knew her, and my father and I were never close.”
“I remember you mentioning that he was stern and emotionally distant.”
“Yeah.”
“So, you had trouble getting along with him.” It wasn’t a question.
I frowned. “We never had a problem getting along because he was rarely involved. His standards for me were high, but I’ve always been the type to bury myself in work.”
Somewhere in the conversation, Abby had moved back to the other side of the couch, and after ditching her shoes, she’d brought both feet up in front of her. I loved that she felt comfortable enough to do that. “That must have been lonely,” she said.
I nodded. “Yeah…yeah, it was.” I studied my hands, finding them increasingly interesting at the moment.
“Did your father ever remarry?” She paused. “I only ask because mine did and my step-mom never liked me.”
“How could she not like you?”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t her flesh and blood, I guess.”
“That’s terrible. I can’t believe—”
“It’s okay.” She held a hand up in the air. “I’m over that time in my life. Thank goodness you can move away when you become an adult.” She tilted her head to the side. “But what about your dad? Did he marry again?”
“Three times.”
Her eyes widened. “He married three times?”
“Well, four if you count my mom. He got divorced three times.” I laughed uneasily. “He wasn’t exactly a ladies’ man. The women weren’t knocking down his door, but he had money and that’s all it took. He never initiated any of the divorces, but he wasn’t able to make any of them happy.”
“I see. It must have been a challenge trying to keep up with his wives.”
“Not really. They barely interacted with me.”
“You’re breaking my heart, Colin. That sounds like a horrible way to grow up—no one around to talk to.”
I shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
She moved closer, looking very uneasy. “Can I confide in you about something? Hardly anyone knows this about me. Tammy does, but she’s the only one.”
“You can tell me anything. What is it?”
She swallowed and glanced away. “It’s hard to talk about. People tend to look down…” She trailed off. “Anyway, I get the feeling you won’t do that.”
I moved close enough to take her hand. Squeezing it, I gave her a reassuring smile. “I would never look down on you.”
She swallowed again and glanced away. “My dad wasn’t emotionally available either. He and my mom got divorced, and I chose to live with him because Mom and I didn’t get along. She and I don’t interact anymore. The last time I went to visit her, she worked sixty hours that week and at the end told me she wasn’t cut out to be a mom. She even made me call her by her first name as if the mention of being a mother was too much for her. The trip was a complete waste.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. I gave up on that relationship long ago, but Dad is a different story. I know he loves me…he’s just really busy. Anyway, I guess I’ve always wanted his approval, his attention. My entire life he made me earn whatever time I got with him. He wanted me to get an MBA and work in the business field, so the fact that I’m doing temp jobs and pursuing my art instead…” She trailed off. “I’m a disappointment.”
“Abby, how can you be a disappointment? I saw the paintings you had on your wall. You’re very talented.”
“Dad doesn’t see it that way. I’ve been calling him for months, and he never bothers to return my calls.”
&nb
sp; A spark of anger shot through me, but I reigned it in for Abby’s sake. “Why do you keep trying if he treats you like that?”
She shrugged. “It’s something I just do. When I was a teenager, My therapist said I acted out to get his attention. She said I did things because I hoped one day he would notice me and love me.”
“Now it’s you that’s breaking my heart, but I understand where you’re coming from.”
She pressed her lips together and appeared as if she were contemplating her next words. “When I was a teen, I used to cut myself.”
I inhaled a quick breath. “You tried to commit suicide?”
“Oh, no.” She sat up straighter and put her hands on her knees. “I never tried to kill myself, but I cut my arms, just enough for them to bleed.”
“Why?” I took her hand again, and this time, I didn’t let go.
“Back then, I wouldn’t have known how to answer a question like that, but I’ve learned over the years that others do it too—it’s not an uncommon thing.” She hesitated. “I guess I found a momentary sense of calm when I did it. My anger and pain subsided a little. But afterward, I felt so much guilt and shame and hurt. The calm I’d felt—it wasn’t peace. It was more like numbing a wound. My therapist said I craved love and didn’t have the appropriate skills to ask for what I needed, so I turned my frustration inward and hurt myself.”
“Appropriate skills to ask for what you needed,” I repeated. “Is that why you were willing to help me after you said no to a second date? Because you understood what it’s like to have trouble communicating?”
She paused for a moment. “Maybe. I never connected the two, but it makes sense.”
“How long were you in therapy for?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Not long. My step-mom thought counseling was a waste of money, so she convinced my dad to take me out of it. Later, I came to Christ and found my healing in Him.”
“By His wounds, we are healed,” I said, remembering Isaiah fifty-three.
“Exactly.” She smiled. “My physical wounds were just a manifestation of the wounds inside, and Jesus has been working on those ever since.”
“Abby, I don’t know what to say to you to make this better, but I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to share it with me. You can talk to me anytime, and I’ll never think poorly of you. I care about you so much.” I ran a hand over her hair and leaned in, kissing her gently on the side of her face. “Do you still cut yourself?”
“No.” She pulled the sleeves of her shirt up and showed me her scars. Most had faded, but there were a couple that must have been really deep because they were very distinct. “You probably haven’t noticed these because I usually wear long sleeves.” She trailed a finger over the worst one.
“You said Tammy is the only friend who knows about this?”
She glanced down and nodded. “Yeah.”
I shook my head, amazed. “You knew Nick ten years, and you never told him about this?”
“I tried once, but there were too many distractions. After that, I guess I didn’t feel up to saying anything.”
“I’m honored that you trusted me.”
“I do trust you.” She smiled and placed a hand on top of mine.
We continued to talk after that. We both shared our testimonies and how we came to Christ. The conversation was heavy and deep, and after a while, I stood and stretched my arms above my head. “I haven’t been outside all day, and I could use some fresh air. Want to take a walk?”
“Are you sure you’re up for that?”
I nodded, yawning. “Yeah. It’ll just be a short one.”
“All right, but don’t push yourself.”
I took her hand and led her outdoors, the cold air hitting our faces immediately, but it felt refreshing after being cooped up all day. There was a path on the side of the house that went to another lookout point, and that was the way we headed. We walked in silence, hand-in-hand, and I thought about everything we had discussed. I had never been comfortable enough to open up about my past before. Wilhelmina knew some details, but I hadn’t shared everything. There was something about Abby—I could be myself with her.
Once we came to the lookout, we were quiet for a minute as we both observed the view. It was different from the one seen on my back porch, but I wanted Abby to witness it because it always left me in awe of God’s creation. The ocean was nowhere in sight, but the trees and rolling mountains were stunning, nevertheless.
“Colin, tell me about the woman who hurt you.” Abby’s eyes were compassionate and kind as she turned to me. “I know there had to be someone. Your hesitance to get close…”
I ducked my head for a moment and clenched my fists, my heart staggering at the introduction of a subject like this, but I didn’t want to hold back from her. “Her name was Genevieve. She was an English professor at the university.”
Abby nodded, listening attentively.
“We were friends at first, but she kept hinting that we should be more. It took me a while, but I finally asked her out. We dated for a year, and I thought I would marry her. One day she came to me and said, ‘You don’t have that special something, Colin. I’ve always been attracted to you, but after all this time, I should feel more. When I’m with you…I’m just bored.’”
She stared at me with her mouth open. “I can’t believe she said that to you, and she obviously didn’t know you well. That’s the only explanation I can think of because anyone who knows you would never say that.”
“I guess it gave me a complex, to be honest. It hit home because she was at least partially correct. I’m not exactly the life of the party.”
“Look at me,” Abby said, voice firm. “You don’t have to be an extrovert to be the life of the party. You’re the life of the party to me. I love being with you, talking to you like this. Don’t give credence to any of what she said. She wasn’t the right woman for you.”
Her eyes flamed, and she was so adamant and passionate, I had to smile. “If she wasn’t the right woman, do you think you are?”
It was my way of teasing her, but afterward, I realized it might have been too much, and I immediately regretted the words. The last thing I wanted was to make Abby uncomfortable by moving too fast. I was about to tell her to forget what I said when she interjected.
“Yes, I am.” She perked as if just now coming to that conclusion, and her eyes widened.
She hadn’t caught on that I was teasing, and I was glad for that. I may have made light of it, but I thought it was true. I took both of her hands and squeezed them, grinning. “Yes, I believe you are the right woman.”
We both stared into each other’s eyes for the longest moment after that. I broke the silence by leaning forward and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Still don’t want to make you sick, but I couldn’t resist.”
She winked. “Did I ever mention that I have a really strong immune system? You don’t have to hold back, you know.”
I chuckled. “You’ll have to be patient with me—I tend to take things slow.” I cleared my throat. “And I want to make sure I don’t mess anything up.”
“You’re not going to mess up.”
I felt my jaw tense, and I willed it to relax. She was just trying to encourage me—that was all. There were numerous ways I could screw up, too many to count, but it was probably best not to think about it.
“You’re thinking too much right now,” she said, lightly. “Look to the Lord. He knows what He’s doing. You don’t have to be perfect, Colin.”
I nodded, not wanting to discuss it. “You ready to return to the house?”
“I could stay out here all day, but you must be tired. We should go.”
We walked slowly, in no particular hurry to be indoors. I hesitated. It was time to tell her. “Abby, I want you to know everything about me. I don’t want to hold anything back.”
She glanced at me with a curious expression. “I want that too.”
“So, when I tell you this, it’s not
to brag or try to make myself look good. I just don’t want you to think I hid it from you.”
“Okay…”
“You know how I said I have money?”
“Yes.” She didn’t take her eyes off me.
“Well, that was an understatement.”
“An understatement?” She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I have a lot more money than I let on. I’m what you might call a billionaire.”
She didn’t say anything for a long time, and I gave her a moment to let that sink in.
“Billionaire? That’s a lot of money.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Well that explains the house,” she said, still trying to come to terms with the bomb I’d dropped on her. “In other respects, you don’t seem to live like a billionaire. If I hadn’t seen this house, I would never have known you had money. You drive a Honda, your clothes don’t look expensive, you never flash cash or credit cards around.” She turned to look at me with a confused expression. “Are you trying to keep it on the down low or something?”
I glanced away. “I don’t publicize it if that’s what you mean. There are others like me who are front and center in the media, but I prefer to stay out of the limelight.”
“Good for you. I’m not a fan of drama to promote oneself.”
“But I can’t completely hide it. Anyone could figure it out if they did some investigating. My contract with the university states that they can’t advertise my billionaire status. I just don’t want it to define me. Having money makes things easy, don’t get me wrong—I appreciate that part. I’m able to fund programs like Friends with Meals, so in that sense, it’s worth it.”
“What is Friends with Meals?”
“It’s a non-profit I started to help the elderly and disabled by bringing them meals.”
She looked at me with new admiration. “I like that about you. I volunteer at Northlake Senior Center on a regular basis. It’s important to reach out.”
“I agree.”
“Did Genevieve know about your money?”
“She knew I had some, but she wasn’t aware that I’m a billionaire.”
“Why are you telling me?”
Blind Date with a Billionaire Professor (Blind Date Disasters) Page 16