by Shelly Davis
“That’s the point. She’s different.”
“Well, if you’re cookin’, I’m comin’ to dinner too. You haven’t cooked much lately. What’re you makin’?”
“I’m makin’ spaghetti. And you better not show up, I’ll kick your ass. Go to dinner with Toni and Jules, I’ll save you some.”
“You better, or we’ll be fightin’. I’ll get Toni after your ass,” Cade laughed.
“Whatever.” But he knew he had me. If Toni found out I made pasta sauce and didn’t save her any, she’d be pissed.
Chapter Eighteen
Mia
“You look beautiful,” Jake whispered as he opened the car door for me.
Dinner with Jake … It had been so long since I was excited about going out with anyone, but with Jake I couldn’t stop the trembling in my limbs. The very idea had me racing home to get ready before he arrived to pick me up.
His scent washed over me as he helped me climb into his jeep. He closed the door and ran around the front of the car. I couldn’t remember the last time a man opened a door or helped me into a vehicle. It was such a gentlemanly thing for him to do, but that was Jake. He was always a gentleman, even when we were kids.
Sinking into the comfortable seat and breathing in deeply, I instantly relaxed. Jake still smelled exactly like I remembered. It was like outdoors in autumn – crisp and spicy and musky. The interior of his car smelled like him. I could get drunk on his smell.
We drove quietly through town. The familiar streets brought a calm to my raging nervousness. Then I realized we had moved from the familiar Mooresville streets to the outskirts of town, I had no idea where we were going. I also had no idea what to say, so the silence stretched.
“How’s Molly doin’?” Jake’s deep rumbling voice broke the silence.
I couldn’t believe he remembered her name. She was like his little shadow at the Thanksgiving party, but she was shy and wouldn’t tell him her name on her own. Since Thanksgiving, Molly constantly talked about Jake. Her crush was adorable. “Molly’s great. She’s been doin’ exceptionally well actually.” Molly had a lot of medical problems and motor development issues, making it difficult for her run and play like other kids. She also had an intellectual disability that hindered her speech and made her behave much younger than her age.
“If it’d be okay, I’d love to come around and see her and the other kids one day. She was sweet.”
I think my heart just melted. Pressing my hand to my chest, I felt for the steady beat of my heart. It was still there, but definitely turned to mush. No way was any man this perfect. Could he actually see what I saw when I looked at those kids? Was he truly this kind?
I turned my head and smiled. I’d been smiling much more since Jake reentered my life. “She would love that. Molly hasn’t stopped talkin’ about ‘her ‘ake’.”
Laughing, he glanced at me. “Her ‘ake?” he asked.
“That’s how she says your name. She asks when you’ll come back and play with her.” I paused. Most people weren’t interested in hearing about my students, but Jake seemed interested. So I thought I’d share some things about Molly with him. Sharing things about them was like sharing things about me. I loved my job and my students. “You know, that was the most she’s run around and played all year. She usually just grumbles and refuses to play. Jen, Steve, and I have to make her play. But with you, she just played, and the best part was she loved it.”
His face lit up with a smile. “Well, I’d love to come and play with her again. Maybe I’ll come in one day during gym time. Gage’ll be able to tell me what time, right?”
“Yeah, Molly would love that. All the kids would.” I felt tears building in my eyes. No one I dated had ever taken an interest in my students. Most guys didn’t even ask about my job, they only talked about how nice it must be to be off all summer and to be able to go home at three-thirty in the afternoon and not have anything to do all day. It pissed me off.
But here was this man, this perfect man who just got it. He was interested in my students and he wanted to spend more time with them. They would love it, and so would I.
“Great,” he said, seeming not to notice the tears in my eyes or the fact that I was struggling to keep from sobbing.
Turning my head, I looked out the window and tried to calm my nerves. But instead of calming myself, I noticed we were on a residential street. Confused about what he had planned, I suddenly felt self-conscious in my skirt, tights, and knee boots. Maybe I was over dressed. Maybe I misunderstood this entire thing.
He pulled onto a long, dark, tree-lined, one lane road that seemed to weave through the woods. After a few minutes we entered a clearing where a small, ranch style cabin with large windows and shutters sat alone. The enormous front lawn was well manicured. There were flower beds across the front of the house and a tree log bench swing on the large deck-like porch. I’d love to see it in the spring and summer with flowers and bushes in bloom. I bet it was an extraordinarily serene place to live.
Jake quieted the rumbling engine and climbed out of the jeep without a word. He quickly came around to my side, opened my door and helped me climb down.
Adjusting my clothes, I looked around. The little cabin sat on a couple acres of cleared land while nothing but the forest surrounded everything. No neighbors, no artificial lights, no city noises could be heard. The only thing to show our way were the light of the moon and small path lights installed along the stone path to the front door. The only sound for miles was of the cry of unseen nocturnal animals, who scurried through the woods, and the whistling of the wind through the leafless trees. It was the perfect mountain paradise.
I breathed in the fresh cold air of the early December evening. The crisp air was so pure compared to what I was used to closer to the city. “Where are we?” I asked, looking around. “This place is gorgeous. I’ve always wanted a house like this.” I loved it. A place off the beaten path. Somewhere I could lose myself completely until I had to return to work the next morning.
He just smiled, took my hand and pulled me to the front door where he used his keys to unlock and open the house wide. “I wanna talk,” he said quietly. “I didn’t wanna be interrupted all night by waiters.” We walked into the house and immediately I was assaulted by wonderful scents; garlic, tomatoes, and other spices permeated the air. I’d know that smell anywhere, his mother’s spaghetti sauce. I always loved her spaghetti when we were kids. Every time we ate at Dotti’s diner, I ordered a huge bowl. It had been years since I was able to enjoy my favorite food.
“Is your momma here?” I asked, taking a deep whiff of the delicious smells.
Frowning he shook his head. “No,” he said, his scowl deepening. “What, can’t a guy know how to cook?”
Giggling at his expression, I questioned, “You know how to make your momma’s sauce?” Of course, I knew the answer to this. Jake and Cade always had to help their parents at their diner when we were kids. But Jake had a gift. He was an amazing chef.
“Of course I do,” he huffed. “Where do you think I spent my high school years? If I wasn’t on the football field or in the gym, I was in the kitchen learnin’ to cook. Momma wasn’t havin’ her sons not know how to cook.”
I always knew where he was in high school. I spent every possible moment in the stands at football practices and in that diner; first to get his attention, then later in hopes of finding the nerve to apologize to him. I always watched him, even after … everything, I still paid attention to what he was doing and where he was. I’d watch him practice while the cheerleaders practiced near the field. I’d run the track while he was in the weight room. I’d eat at that damn diner every day just so I could see glimpses of him.
His mother used to brag to the customers about how he was surpassing her with his chef abilities. I smiled, remembering how I used to watch him with his ‘Dottie’s Diner’ apron tied around his narrow hips, moving around the huge kitchen. To see this big, strong man cooking the delicious mea
ls that came out of that diner was sexy as hell.
“Is it ready?” I asked, ready to drool. I was starving suddenly, but I also loved the idea of watching him in the kitchen again.
He took my hand and smiled. A huge and genuine grin split his face. I hadn’t seen that smile in so long, especially directed at me.
He pulled me through the foyer, not giving me any time to appreciate the welcoming and warm atmosphere of his home. We passed by the living room and what appeared to be a formal dining room as he led me down the hall.
Entering the kitchen, I stopped in the doorway, immediately overcome by amazing smells from the past. Aromas that brought back so many joyful memories from when we were kids and didn’t have a single care in the world. Happiness and fun were all we were concerned about; a time when life seemed perfect and I had my best friends by my side. It smelled like everything that ever made me happy. And the feeling I got from being this happy was unmatched.
After appreciating how the kitchen smelled, I focused on the room itself. There was an island with a black granite top standing in the middle of the huge open kitchen. The granite countertops and dark wooden cabinets contrasted with the stainless steel appliances which shined bright in the overhead lights which lit up the room. It was a chef’s kitchen. The perfect place to create wonderful tasting meals.
Jake led me from the doorway to the island and pulling out a high-back stool, he gestured for me to sit. “Relax. I need to finish gettin’ this together.” He paused, then opened the refrigerator door and smiled. “Want somethin’ to drink? I have cola, beer, wine, and water.”
“Beer would be great,” I said, smiling. I ran my fingers across the smooth granite countertop, marveling in its perfection.
“Woman after my own heart,” he mumbled before pulling out two beers. He twisted off the tops and turned to a cabinet, pulling out a glass.
“I don’t need a glass, Jake. Thanks though.” I said, taking a pull of the bottle. I wasn’t sure if it was too unladylike, but I wasn’t going to pretend to be something I wasn’t. Especially with Jake. I was done pretending to be someone I wasn’t. I hadn’t acted like myself for so long and I was sick of the charade. I didn’t have to pretend with Jake, he knew me before I knew myself.
He just stared at me for a few moments before he turned and started preparing plates of deliciousness.
***
After an amazing dinner and small talk, I helped him clean up the dishes before he led us through the house and into the living room. Much like the masculine feel of the kitchen, the living room was dark but warm and inviting. The dark brown leather furniture, the deep cherry of the end tables and coffee table, and the interesting accessories, were warm and inviting, and screamed masculinity. It was beautiful.
I couldn’t help but think about how many women he’d cooked for and how many women had sat on this furniture or been in this house. Constant reminders of how much I screwed up before I even knew what I had. But maybe I could get it back.
“I must admit, I’m a little outta my element here,” he said, surprising me. “I don’t bring anyone to my house. Hell, the only women that have ever been here are my momma, Toni, and Monique.” Ugh, Monique. She turned out to be incredibly nice, but I didn’t want to like her. Then again, she’s the one who told me Jake still loved me. It was Monique that insisted I do something about it. She insisted there was nothing between them anymore. Jake must have seen me cringe at the mention of Monique because he chuckled.
“There ain’t anythin’ between Moni and me, Mia. She’s a friend, that’s all.”
“She’s an extremely beautiful friend,” I mumbled quietly. I didn’t want him to hear me, but my muttering was loud enough for Jake to hear.
“Mia,” he sighed. I looked up at him and he looked frustrated if not kind of annoyed. “Yeah, Moni is gorgeous, but so are you. Moni and I truly are just friends. Don’t you trust me?”
Sighing, I searched within myself and found something incredibly surprising. I did trust him. I had no idea why, but I trusted that there was nothing but what he told me. “Yeah, I trust you.”
“Then relax and trust that Moni and I are just good friends. Besides if I wanted to be here with another woman, I’d be with another woman. I want to be here with you. I don’t cook for just anyone, you know.”
“Yeah.” I smiled, remembering him cooking in the diner. He always was choosy about which orders he filled. He passed off the meals he didn’t want to make to the other cooks. There were certain meals, certain orders that he refused to make. I never knew why.
“But I always cooked for you, no matter what. I always made sure I was the one that filled your orders.”
I had no idea what that meant. I wanted to believe he felt something for me, even when we weren’t friends. Did he truly take care of me when we weren’t talking anymore? I wanted to ask him about it, but dwelling in the past seemed pointless. We would never get that time back.
“You have a beautiful house, Jake.”
“My momma helped decorate it. Don’t even ask me what the hell those pictures are all about.” He laughed out, gesturing to the images on the wall above the fireplace. “She just showed up here one day and hung them up. She does the same thing at Cade’s place. She was so freaked out when we bought separate houses, she’d show up and just start decoratin’.”
I stood, and walked across the room toward the large framed pictures hanging on the wall. I looked closer at the images and at first what appeared to be dreadfully dark and foreboding, was actually quite beautiful. They were images of flowers and nature all done in dark browns, grays, and blacks. It fit the feel of the room and Jake’s personality perfectly. Although some splashes of color in the monochromatic rooms would make his house pop. “Does it bother you?”
“No, you know my mom. It’s how she shows she loves you. Besides, even if it did bother me, it wouldn’t matter. No tellin’ my momma what to do.” He smiled and the silence spread again. The quiet between us wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was full of so much more. There seemed to be so much that needed to be said, but neither of us knew where to start.
I tried to relax and ignore the wild quivering in my chest and the hundreds of questions twirling around in my head. We were supposed to be talking, but it seemed neither of us knew where to start. Dwelling in the past didn’t help anyone but jumping into the present or the future was just too hard. We knew too much about one another. It wasn’t quite like getting to know someone new but it also wasn’t like we knew everything either.
I fiddled with my hands in my lap, twisting my fingers and ringing my hands together over and over.
“I make you nervous, don’t I?” he asked quietly. I looked up, his eyes were on my hands.
“I just don’t know what to say to you,” I said honestly.
Meeting my gaze, he smiled and moved a little closer to me. “Well, you did fine the other day. Maybe we could just talk about whatever. Past, present, future – we can focus on whatever we need.”
“All right,” I sighed. Maybe our demons needed to be exercised before we could even think about what was happening now.
“I told you what happened back then. If I would’ve told then. If I would’ve found the courage to talk to you and tell you it was all a misunderstanding, would it have mattered?” I needed to know this. I’d blamed myself for so long. Blamed myself for my misery and torment because I’d let the one beautiful and pure thing in my life go. Would it have mattered if I tried to talk to him or would it have made things worse?
“Honestly, Mia. I don’t know. I was hurt and we were so young and inexperienced. I don’t know if it would’ve made a difference. When I look back I ask myself why you didn’t tell me, but I also ask myself why I didn’t ask. Why did I just assume the worst instead of believing in you? I don’t think it would’ve made a difference one way or another, if that helps.”
My heart sank to my churning stomach. What the hell was all of this? Dinner alone? Talking? Was this ju
st to make friends again? Was what happened in my classroom a mistake? “I …” I paused to gather myself. Hot tears were building in my eyes and the churning in my stomach had reached raging whirlpool levels. “I don’t think I understand.”
“Mia, we were young. Too young actually. If we would’ve been together then, it would’ve ended, we both know that. It was better that we went our separate ways.”
Struck speechless, I almost felt like I couldn’t breathe. “I have one question,” I whispered. “Back then, did you … You know. Did you really love me?”
He sat there for what seemed like forever, unspeaking, and just stared at me. His scrutiny was hard to bear, making me turn my eyes back down to my hands, my knuckles turned white from how tightly I had them twisted together. The longer the time passed, the more my heart sank.
“Look at me,” he whispered. His hands coming to mine and gently pulling my tangled fingers apart. Then he placed his finger under my chin, lifting my face until he met my eyes. With every fiber in me, I felt drawn to him. We had a connection that I didn’t have with anyone else. “I’m sorry for what happened back then. I didn’t stop to try to find out what was happenin’. I just reacted.”
“It’s not like I made it a point to tell you, Jake. I coulda tried to talk to you. But I didn’t. You were right, we were just kids. We didn’t know any better.”
“But I knew Gary was an idiot. I knew his reputation. I coulda gone to you after.”
Suddenly I understood what he said. We wouldn’t have worked out back then, we were just kids. But what about now? We were so different in so many ways. We had our own lives and our own experiences that shaped us in different ways. We were both searching for something. We knew what we wanted, or at least we thought we knew.
Silence washed over us again. He was probably trying to figure out how to tell me this was all a mistake and we should go back to basically being strangers. Part of me wanted to let him off the hook and leave. I could call a cab or walk home, it wasn’t far.