by Scott, Lisa
He held out his arm and tipped his hat. “Don’t mind if we do.”
The party was fun, and Jeff had everyone laughing, pretending to hold up the place when we’d first arrived and demanding drinks. He introduced me to all his friends, and I heard plenty of funny stories from his high school days. It wasn’t surprising to learn he’d been voted class clown.
“Seriously, I didn’t think tater tots would stick to the ceiling!” he said. “Those were really hard to clean off and the janitor didn’t even help me.”
When he excused himself to use the bathroom, a blonde dressed as a mermaid sauntered over to me. Now she knew how to pull off sexy. She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Vicky Givens. I knew Jeff back in high school.” She shrugged. “We dated, actually. How long have you two been together?”
She was sending off some major territorial vibes. My throat tightened. “This is our first date.”
“Oh. Good luck. Even back in high school he was a heartbreaker. Not surprising that he’s been married twice.” She adjusted the tail of her costume.
“Twice?” I hoped my eyes weren’t bulging.
“You didn’t know?” She bit her lip. “Oops. Sorry.” She shrugged. “Maybe you’ll be lucky number three.” She excused herself and sauntered over to a group in the corner.
My heart was in my stomach. Of course he didn’t want to get married again. He had two failed marriages. I swallowed hard. Could I ever have faith in a relationship with a twice-divorced guy? A guy who’d already told me didn’t want to get married again? He was exactly the kind of guy I should be avoiding.
Of course, when he walked back in the room, my heart ignored all that nonsense flying around my head. Just enjoy the night. Maybe he’d be a rebound guy; a good guy to help me find my dating-legs again. I felt like I had a little devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other arguing over what I should do.
The party wound down after midnight, and Jeff drove me home. I looked up at the full moon lighting up the sky. It would be very easy to fall under its romantic spell. I snuck a glance at Jeff. Yeah, very easy.
My heart sped up as we got closer to my house. Was a good night kiss par-for-the-course these days? Would he be expecting more? I took a deep breath. That was another reason to stay single; I hadn’t gotten an updated version of the dating rules. Would I now be required to get a Brazilian wax every month? I wrinkled my nose at that thought. Then I remembered the blah, beige bra I was wearing. Certainly, my underwear wasn’t cute enough to be back on the dating scene. No, I wasn’t prepared for this. It’d been a mistake.
But when he pulled in my driveway, I surprised myself by saying, “Do you want to come in?”
Who was in charge here? My hormones, clearly—or the devil on my shoulder.
Jeff turned in his seat to face me. “I’d love to, but I’m going to take it slow with you. I know you’re nervous about dating again. So, as much as I’d like to live up to my plundering jokes, I’m going to kiss you goodnight and hopefully see you again next weekend.”
His directness took my breath away. He leaned over the console in the front seat, took my face in his hands and kissed me. It wasn’t just a goodnight peck. It was a long, demanding kiss that left my lips tingling and my insides tightly coiled.
“Wow,” I said, when our lips parted. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?” My voice sounded smoky.
He slid off my pirate cap and ran his fingers through my hair. “I definitely want to come in. But good things are worth waiting for. I’ll call you this week.” He got out of the car, and opened the door for me.
Walking me to my front porch, I was surprised how giddy I felt. And to think I wasn’t going to go out with him? He kissed me again, this time just a brush of his lips against mine. “Goodnight, Jeff.”
“Goodnight my sweet wench.”
I nudged him with my elbow. “I’m not that kind of pirate.” But I might be, if you’d just come inside…. But he walked back to his car and I let myself inside.
I slumped on the couch and sighed. I’d survived my first post-divorce date.
But the next morning I felt like Cinderella, again. The magic was gone as I remembered the mermaid’s tale: Jeff had been married twice.
Right, I reminded myself. And not very likely to have a successful third one. There had to be sobering statistics on the success of third marriages floating around on the Internet. If I were ever to tie the knot again, it would have to last. I couldn’t go through another heartbreak.
I shoved a flower inside the pumpkin I was working on a little harder than I needed to. The florist and the orchard both placed an even bigger order this week and wanted me to start thinking ahead for Thanksgiving.
It should’ve been a good distraction from my feelings, but it wasn’t. It scared me how attracted I was to him—after one date. Maybe it’s just because you’re out of practice. Maybe any date would have seemed great the first time out. Closing my eyes I remembered that kiss and shook my head. No, this had been different. Maybe things happened faster the second time around?
But this wasn’t the second time around. He was only out for fun. He’d told me as much.
***
Yet, I found myself keeping track of the days until he called. When I saw his name on the caller ID Wednesday, I squealed.
“What, Mommy?” Chelsea asked.
“Nothing. I just got a really good idea for a new pumpkin arrangement.” Yeah, that’s it. Lie to your daughter.
“Marnie, I was wondering if you and Chelsea would like to come trick-or-treating with Trey and me this week.”
“You just want to see me in another costume, don’t you?”
“You’re on to me. A lovely clown suit, perhaps?”
“You’re sure to lose interest in me once Halloween is over.”
“No way.” He laughed. “You’ll just have to pull out a costume from time to time.”
We made arrangements to trick or treat in Jeff’s neighborhood, since he had a lot of houses on his street. Now, I was more excited for Halloween than Chelsea. Before the big day, I brought another order of pumpkins into the florist.
“Those look great! They sell out almost as soon as you bring them in,” Lynn said.
“You’ll never believe it, but this guy I went out with brought me one of my arrangements on our first date. Isn’t that hilarious?”
She snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah, I remember. Was it Jeff Williams?”
I nodded, surprised she knew.
“He’s in here a lot.”
Her phone rang and she answered it as my stomach fell. He’s in here a lot? What was that supposed to mean? I wanted to press her for more details, but it was clear she was going to be on the phone for a while.
I left the shop with a heavy heart. My hot, funny, guy was a twice-divorced, flower-shop-regular—who never wanted to get married again. What are you doing?I’d promised we’d go trick-or-treating, so there was no getting out of that. Chelsea was looking forward to it. But that would be our last date. I was setting myself up for heartbreak—and there was no guarantee I’d bounce back when it ended. I felt like an old pair of control pantyhose with only so much holding power left.
***
Trick-or-treating was fun, despite my worries. Jeff had dressed up like a mummy and let the kids unwrap him as we walked from house to house.
He opened a Hershey’s kiss and brought it to my mouth. Tentatively, I sunk my teeth into it. He leaned toward me and whispered, “You’re the most beautiful gypsy I’ve ever seen, but I really liked that pirate costume.”
I whispered back. “Chelsea hasn’t seen that much of my cleavage since she was breast feeding, and I didn’t want to shock your son. You’re probably not ready for the birds-and-the-bees talk yet.”
He laughed. “It’s been a while. I don’t think I remember enough to tell him.”
I gave him a funny look. Officer Hottie probably had plenty of inappropriate tales to draw from.
We finished
make the rounds on his cul-de-sac and stood in front of my car. “Would you guys like to grab a bite to eat?” he asked.
“I’ve gotta get home. I’ve got four dozen Thanksgiving arrangements to make tomorrow.”
“Need some help? I’m a great pumpkin scooper.” He pretended to be spooning out the seeds with big exaggerated motions.
I’d planned on this being our last date. But really, I needed the help. “You sure? My ex used to hate when I was crafty. ‘Crappy crafts’ he used to call them.”
“Another reason to be glad he’s your ex. Should I come over after lunch?”
“That would be great.”
***
We were elbow-deep in pumpkin guts when I thought about what Lynn had told me. I took a deep breath. “So, I told the gal at the flower shop that you bought me one of my own pumpkins.”
He laughed. “It was a surprise for both of us.”
I concentrated on cutting the top off the pumpkin. “She says you’re in there a lot.”
He didn’t say anything and Chelsea ran into the kitchen before he could comment.
“Mommy, can we have popcorn?” she asked, hopping from foot to foot.
“Sure, honey.” And the moment was gone. I didn’t want to sound like a nag bringing it up again. But he hadn’t denied it, and he hadn’t given me a reason why he was there so often.
Jeff showed the kids how to make popcorn balls with corn syrup and butter. Before I knew it, dinnertime rolled around and we went out for Chinese. When we got home at nine, he snuck in a quick kiss.
“Can I see you next weekend?”
I wanted to—but I also didn’t. I’d end it next weekend. “Sure.”
But I didn’t get the chance; he called in the middle of the week and left a voicemail, canceling our date. “I’m not going to be able to make it. I’m really sorry. It’s just … it’s a bad time. Hopefully, we can get together soon.”
It’s for the best. Maybe he was getting spooked, too.
When he called again, I let it go to voicemail. “Want to try to get together this Saturday?” he asked.
Later, I called back and left a message. “I can’t, I’ve got Chelsea this weekend and I’m really busy with my arrangements.” Hopefully, things would just taper off with him. But I doubted if I’d find another guy who’d interest me as much as Jeff.
I pulled into the floral shop the week before Thanksgiving and almost hit another car. Jeff was walking out with a bunch of flowers. Not roses, but a nice mixed arrangement. I wondered if he’d been seeing someone else all along.
Not that it mattered. We hadn’t gotten beyond a quick kiss. It had never been anything serious. Still, my heart deflated. I drove home. Lynn would have to wait a few hours for her arrangements, because watching your crush buy flowers for someone else is a definite way to squash your feelings.
When I brought the arrangements back a while later, Lynn brushed off her hands. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
Oh, no. She wasn’t going to mention that Jeff had bought flowers for someone else, was she? Too embarrassing. “What’s up?”
“I need help.”
“Sounds serious.”
She laughed. “I mean, in the shop. I need to hire someone to put together arrangements, and I’m expanding our gift section. I’ll match what you’re making at the hotel as long as you bring that creativity of yours here and whip up some more incredible stuff.”
I leaned against the counter. “Are you serious?”
She nodded. “I’m hoping you could start in a few weeks, before the Christmas rush.”
“What about health insurance?”
“I get mine through the Chamber of Commerce. I can pick up a plan for you.”
Practical, safe-playing me was thinking, no, no of course not. But the part of me I’d hidden away for years pushed past the doubt and worry and said, “Yes, I’ll take it. I’ll put in my two weeks’ notice tomorrow.” I slapped my hand over my mouth.
“Are you sure?”
Even while I was muzzling myself, I managed to nod yes.
She shrieked and clapped. “I’m so excited! This is going to be wonderful. I’ll put you down on the schedule for two weeks from tomorrow. The day before Thanksgiving. Is that okay?”
Again, I could only nod yes.
I drove home, trying to remember the last time my heart felt so light and hopeful. It almost felt like falling in love—as far as I could remember. Maybe that’s the best I could hope for—loving what I did for a living. Forget the men.
My manager wasn’t happy about losing me at the office, but he admitted, “It’s probably a good move. I’ve never seen you this excited, I’m happy for you.”
The day before Thanksgiving was a busy day for my first day. We sold all but two of my pumpkins, and I made some new cornucopia arrangements with fruits and flowers.
I went home feeling better than I had in years. Jeff called again, and this time, I answered.
“Hey, stranger. How are you? Not dressed as a Turkey, are you?”
I flopped on the couch. “No, exhausted from my new job. Lynn hired me at her floral shop.”
“That’s great. I go there whenever I need flowers or beautiful pumpkin arrangements.”
My smile disappeared, remembering him walking out with a bouquet of flowers. But I pushed the bad feeling away. Jeff and I hadn’t been a couple. For all I knew, he was just being nice to me, helping me ease back into the dating game. “I’m really excited about it.”
“I don’t know what you’ve got planned tomorrow for the holiday, but Trey is with his mom, and the rest of my family’s out of town. I usually make the trip, but not this year. If you’re in the same boat, why don’t you stop by tomorrow for Thanksgiving?”
“I’m going to my Aunt’s house. But thanks.”
“No problem.” He paused for a moment. “I get the sense it’s not working between us. Am I right?”
I opened my mouth then closed it. “I’m just not ready.” I’d been right. It was too hard to be out there.
He must’ve known what I was thinking. “Don’t wait too long, Marnie. You’re going to miss a lot of good times if you give in to your fear.”
“Thanks, Jeff. For everything.” After hanging up, my good, new-job feelings were overshadowed by the disappointment that I wouldn’t see him again.
***
I brought one of my arrangements to Thanksgiving dinner, and my relatives ooh’d and aah’d and were supportive of my job change.
“If only you could meet a nice man,” Aunt Ruthie said, patting my hand with as much concern as if I’d just announced some sort of terminal diagnosis.
I forced a smile. “Too busy for a man. And I’m happy, really.” God, did that sound like a lie.
“Did you hear Ginny is moving to Florida with her boyfriend?” she asked.
I looked over at my cousin, Ginny, sitting on the floor next to her boyfriend. My little cousin was moving? She was five years younger than me. Could she really be old enough to move south with a guy? I tallied up her age in my head; yep, she was twenty-three.
She looked at me and smiled with a little, Crazy, right? shrug.
“What are you going to do down there?” I asked.
“Another bakery?” She turned up her hands. “I’ll figure it out when I get there. I just didn’t want to be apart from Ryan, and when he got his job down there, we knew we didn’t want to do the long-distance thing.” She took a shaky breath and smiled.
Her boyfriend stood up. “I’m getting a refill. Want one, honey?”
“Another eggnog would be great, thanks.”
He walked away and I scurried over to sit next to her. “You’ve never even had your own place! And you’re moving across the country? How long have you been dating?”
Her smile slipped for a moment. “Ten months. But isn’t love always about taking chances?”
The words hit my heart. She was right. And I’d never find it again if I wasn’t willing to take a
chance.
But could I take a chance on Jeff? I nibbled my lip. I’d taken a chance changing jobs, and look how that had made me feel—re-energized, excited, alive. Just thinking about Jeff made me swoon. I had to talk to him. He was worth a try even if I might get hurt in the process.
I stood up. “I’ve got to go.”
Ginny gave me a look. “We haven’t even had dessert. Where are you going?”
“Taking a chance.” I said my goodbyes and bundled up a few pieces of pie to share with Jeff.
Driving over to his house, I decided to be upfront and ask all the questions that had been bothering me. I just wished I could slow down my heart. Was I more thrilled or scared? I couldn’t tell.
When I pulled into his driveway, my insides were twisting and my breath quickened, but I had nothing to lose.
I rang the doorbell and was delighted to see Jeff’s face morph from surprise to pleasure when he answered. “What are you doing here?”
I looked up at him; my words came out in a whisper. “Taking a chance.”
Grinning, he looked me up and down. “Damn. No pilgrim costume?”
“Careful, or I won’t share this.” I handed him the plate of desserts.
He stepped back to let me in. “Now you’re speaking my language.” He led me into the family room, where the football game was playing. He set down the plate and gestured for me to sit on the couch.
I had so many questions for him. Might as well get to it. I’d wasted enough time already. I gripped the arm of the couch. “Are you seeing anyone?”
He crossed his arms. “I thought I was seeing you, but that didn’t seem to work out. I’m so glad you’re here, though. I thought we really clicked.”
“Me too. That’s why I was surprised to see you leave the florist with a bunch of flowers. Plus, Lynn said you’re in there a lot. So, I figured you must be seeing someone who’s getting flowers instead of pumpkins.” My voice came out soft and squeaky, betraying the calm I was faking.
He took a deep breath and looked down. He didn’t say anything for a few moments. “They’re for my first wife.”
My chest tightened. Was he still involved with her? “Vicky at the party said you’ve been divorced twice. Why didn’t you tell me?”