Once Upon a Real Good Time

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Once Upon a Real Good Time Page 16

by Lauren Blakely

“Everyone loves Thor.”

  “True,” I acknowledge, because that’s as true as the law of gravity.

  “And look, if Thor wanted you the same way the rest of the world wanted him, I’d tell you to go for it. You should just go for it with Campbell.”

  “It’s not that simple,” I say a little mournfully.

  He shrugs. “Why not? Some things are simple.”

  “He’s Kyle’s teacher.”

  Jamison clutches his cheeks. “Oh my God. You’re right. That means you should never ever touch him.”

  “I’m serious.”

  He shrugs it off. “There’s always something. What’s the worst that’s going to happen? You go out with him, he turns out to be a big jackwad, you break up with him, we find a new teacher?” He snaps his fingers. “Done. If he breaks your heart, I will bake him into a meat pie like Sweeney Todd, and I’ll find a new teacher who’s better than 42nd Street.”

  I laugh lightly. “I love you and your revenge plans. But in reality, Kyle adores him. Kyle is thriving with him.”

  Jamison parks his hands on his hips. “Kids are resilient, Mackenzie. Kyle is doing great because we’ve raised a great kid. Don’t sacrifice your own happiness over this.”

  “But how do I know if I can be happy with Campbell? How do I know if it’s worth the Sweeney Todd exit plan if it gets to that point?”

  What if he breaks my heart? The thought terrifies me, since my heart feels like it already belongs to him, and that gives him power over its fate.

  But what if he . . . doesn’t break it?

  “You don’t. You take your chance anyway,” he says.

  I toss up my hands. I’m tired of talking in circles. “Actually, screw it. You might as well know the truth. We had a thing going for a bit. And it was wonderful, because he’s wonderful. But we decided to end things because of the kids.”

  A gleam of triumph flashes in Jamison’s blue eyes. “I knew it! I knew there was something between the two of you. And you have to tell me everything now.”

  He grabs my wrist, steals me away to a coffee shop, and plies me with lattes until I confess. For the record, a vanilla latte is all I need as truth serum.

  Jamison bangs his fists on the table, hoots and hollers as I share the basic details. “You two are so perfect together, it’s disgusting, but in a beautiful kind of way,” he says.

  I laugh. “Well, thanks. Glad you find us gross.”

  “Gross and lovely and perfect. I approve. And now you can’t back down. You absolutely have to go for this. This is so much more than I thought it was.” He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Kyle would totally understand.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  As Jamison nods, a kernel of hope rises in me, a bubble of possibility. “Absolutely,” he says then adds, “You know, you could actually talk to Kyle and discuss it with him. See how he feels.”

  I shiver. The thought is vaguely terrifying. “I don’t want to mess things up if he’s happy.”

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit for how good you are at pulling stuff off.”

  I shoot him a skeptical look. “You think I’m good at that?”

  “I absolutely do. And you are a primo juggler.” He mimes juggling. “You’re not just good at pulling stuff off. You’re great at it. Look at you and me, you and Kyle, you and graphic design. You know how to figure things out. Now, stop being so scared and go for it.”

  Go for it.

  Should I?

  Have I been wrong all along about my track record?

  I’ve always thought it was flawed. But maybe I’ve been looking at my life through the wrong prism. Perhaps I have figured out how to make the best of the unexpected. The unexpected pregnancy, the unexpected career change—I turned those curveballs into home runs.

  Campbell has been unexpected too, I suppose. I never thought I’d fall for a one-night stand, and I never thought he’d turn out to be the guy I’m in love with.

  Because that’s what it is with Campbell.

  That’s why I’m so damn sad.

  I love that guy.

  I want him as mine.

  Chapter 25

  Campbell

  * * *

  “How does that sound for a set list?”

  My sneakers hit the dirt in Central Park as I run up a hill with JJ.

  “Great,” I answer, though I have no clue what songs he’s rattled off. I’ve been thinking of Mackenzie most of the run. Wondering what she’s up to. Curious how her week has been.

  “Excellent. We’ll sing ‘London Bridge is Falling Down,’ then.”

  I snap my gaze to my bandmate. “What?”

  JJ laughs heartily. “Dude, you have no clue what I’ve been talking about.”

  “Sure I do.” I try to cover up my lack of attention. “You’ve been talking about how great it is that the Righteous Surfboards have turned into something, how we have a following, and then we were reviewing songs for our next gig at The Grouchy Owl.”

  He rolls his eyes as we crest the hill. “I said that five minutes ago.”

  Busted.

  “Sorry. I was focused on running.”

  He scoffs. “I don’t think you’re focused on running. You’ve been distracted all week long.”

  “I have?”

  The fall air is brisk, and the wind whips past us. “You’ve been elsewhere, man. You’ve barely focused on anything I said about the band. Do you still want to do this?”

  I bristle at the suggestion that I’m not all in. “Of course.”

  He smacks my arm. “Then maybe you need to figure out why you haven’t been able to stay focused. It’s okay if you have shit on your mind. I respect that. Just be honest with me about it. Do you need a break?”

  I need a break from my own thoughts.

  I need a break from the fact that I fucking miss Mackenzie like it’s a religion.

  But, most of all, what I need a break from is the break.

  Not talking to her daily is brutal. Sam and the string quartet kids are having a blast, but I’d be having an even better time if the four of us could hang out together again—Mackenzie, Sam, Kyle, and me.

  That’s the craziest thing. I don’t just miss the woman. I miss hanging out with her and her kid. I miss her spending time with my kid, and I long for the moments when the four of us were together.

  That’s what I want back. All of it. I want Mackenzie, and I want the four of us.

  I want it all.

  Somehow.

  “No. I don’t need a break,” I tell JJ as we hit a flat section of the path, and I give him my focus like he deserves.

  When we’re done, I’m tempted to call Mackenzie. To try to figure out how to pull this off. But I’m not ready yet. I need to devise a game plan. I need to talk to someone else.

  But that someone’s not home when I return from my run. She’s out at soccer practice, and maybe that’s for the best since I’m not sure yet what to say.

  I choose plan B when Miller texts and asks me to meet him for lunch.

  Miller is always happy. Maybe it’ll rub off on me.

  Chapter 26

  Mackenzie

  * * *

  “—came from what instrument?”

  My mind barely registers the words from the hostess at the new pub we’ve been trying out for Saturday afternoon trivia. All I can think about are Jamison’s words earlier today. His advice. His encouragement. That’s the only thing on my mind.

  Roxy snaps her fingers in front of me. “Earth to Mackenzie.”

  I blink and find Roxy staring at me, her eyes like a bullfrog’s.

  “What?”

  “The question,” she says urgently. “How do you not know it? I thought this would for sure be something you knew.”

  My shoulders sag. “I totally missed the question. I’m sorry. I was drifting off.”

  “The saying ‘put a sock in it’ came from what—”

  A buzzer sounds from the hostess’s
phone. “Time’s up.”

  I groan as I stare at the blank answer line for that question. “It’s Victrola. I suck.”

  Roxy’s expression softens, and she pats my hand. “You’ve been like this all day. Did you have a lobotomy, or did the aliens take over last night?”

  I laugh sadly. “I’m just thinking.”

  “I can tell. I can literally see the cogs turning in your head.”

  “You can’t literally see them.”

  She points at my skull. “Oh, I can. They whir quickly in that big brain of yours.” She tilts her head. “What is it? What has put a sock in your brain power?”

  I take a deep breath. “Jamison thinks I should talk to Kyle and tell him how I feel about Campbell. Basically, ask for his blessing or something.”

  I brace myself for her to say that’s insane.

  “Jamison is right,” Roxy says, matter-of-factly.

  “He is?”

  “He’s so right it’s scary how right he is.”

  “Are you sure you’re not saying this so you can regain the focus of your trivia partner?”

  She shakes her head, her red hair whipping. “I’m saying it because some things in life are simple. We complicate them with worries, but at the end of the day, this is a simple thing. You tell your son how you feel, you make sure he’s cool with it, and then you make your choice.” She takes a sip of her iced tea then winks. “And I also really need a trivia partner with a laser focus.”

  I laugh, and when the hostess fires off the next question about the original name of the Beatles, I’m on that so damn fast it’s no surprise we go on to win the whole round.

  Chapter 27

  Campbell

  * * *

  Miller’s not alone when I find him at the brewery in the East Village, the one that houses retro arcade games too. He’s jamming the joystick on a Frogger console, and by his side is a pretty brunette I recognize instantly.

  I stride up to the two of them right as Miller’s frog dies a brutal death.

  “Ha! I win!” Ally says, thrusting a fist victoriously in the air. Bracelets jangle down her wrists, and her blue eyes twinkle.

  He turns around and high-fives her. “Someday I will beat you.”

  I swear Miller holds her hand in that high five longer than I’ve seen a high five last before.

  His eyes find mine. He lets go and clears his throat. “Hey there.”

  Ally spins around and gives me a huge hug. “Campbell! Good to see you. Hope you don’t mind I crashed your brotherly lunch date.”

  “Not at all. I haven’t seen you in a while. How the hell are you? How’s Chloe? How’s work?”

  Ally flashes a smile at the mention of her kid. “She’s great. She’s hanging out with my brother and Macy tonight. And work is crazy busy, but busy is good, so I can’t complain. Good thing I can blow off steam taking this sorry bastard on in video games.”

  Miller bats his eyes at Ally. “You’re going to help me though, right? You’ve been saying for years you can help improve my score in Frogger, Q*bert, and Donkey Kong. Ever since we met here.”

  “He thinks I can be his video game tutor,” Ally says, rolling her eyes as if that’s the height of hilarity.

  “Hey. You’re awesome at it. Plus, I need to be skilled at all things fun and games.”

  She pats him on the shoulder. “There, there. Poor Miller. It’s sad when you haven’t mastered all the fun in the universe, I know.”

  We head to a table, and after we order, I tip my chin at Ally, grateful I have the two of them for a double distraction today. “Did he tell you I’ve been trying to convince him to start singing with Rebecca Crimson?”

  Ally straightens her spine. “You want him to sing with Rebecca?”

  “Don’t you think they’d sound fantastic?”

  Ally stares at me, her expression blank. She says nothing.

  Miller cuts in. “Then he said I should sing with you.”

  “And what did you say to that?” Ally’s expression remains stoic.

  Miller gives her a curious look. “I said you’d never sing with me anyway, since it would ruin our friendship. That was the correct answer, right?”

  She seems to relax, but as she says yes, I wonder if that’s not the right answer—if there’s a deeper reason the two of them have never tried singing together. If there’s more to the two of them in general.

  But before I can marinate on the possibilities of my brother and his best friend, Ally smiles brightly at me. “Tell me what you’ve been up to. I want to know everything. Miller said you’re doing great with the teaching, and there might be a new woman in your life.”

  Miller slaps a palm on the table. “Yes, your crush. What’s the story?”

  I heave a sigh then decide to serve up the details. After I give them the basics, I swallow my pride and ask for advice. “What do I do next?”

  Ally glances at Miller, smiling sheepishly. He smiles back at her but looks confused. “What’s that for?” he asks her.

  She’s looking at him. “It’s just so adorable. Don’t you think that’s adorable? Like, write-a-song-about-it adorable?”

  Miller’s eyes light up. “That would be a great tune.”

  I furrow my brow. “How is this helping me?”

  They look away from each other and turn to me.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” she asks.

  Miller rolls up his sleeves. “This is what you need to do.”

  I lean in and listen, and as they spell it out, I wonder if they’re crazy or brilliant.

  Chapter 28

  Mackenzie

  * * *

  When Kyle comes home from practice that afternoon, my stomach is in knots, as twisted as my feelings are mixed up. It’s not that he’s some delicate little thing. It’s just that I love him so damn much, and I want it all for both of us. I want the “lucky bitch” life.

  He sets down his violin case and announces he’s famished.

  “Good thing I made one of my extra awesome sandwiches.” I slide a plate over to him, and he tells me about his practice as he eats.

  I listen. Once he’s done, I’m ready for the floor. I’ve waited long enough, and it’s not going to get any easier if I wait for him to finish the sandwich. I take a deep breath, meet his eyes, and speak from the heart. “Kyle, how would you feel if I wanted to date your music teacher?”

  He tilts his head. “Campbell?”

  “Yes.” Worry crawls up my throat.

  He scratches his jaw. “I thought you guys were already dating?”

  I sputter. “You did?”

  “Weren’t you? You were always walking him to the door, and giving him sandwiches, and inviting him to stay for dinner. The way you two talked to each other made me think you were dating.”

  I have been busted by my son. My cheeks flush hot and red. “I like him. I like him a lot,” I say.

  He shrugs casually. “Then you should go out with him. Date him. Whatever adults call it these days.”

  Is it that simple? Evidently, it is to a thirteen-year-old. “I should?” I ask because I want to be certain.

  He takes another bite, chewing thoughtfully before he sets down the sandwich. “I thought you already were, but maybe you stopped because you’ve been kind of sad.”

  And, yes, I am that transparent, so I give him total honesty. “I have been sad. I like him, but I was worried it would complicate things for you if I dated him. And you’re sure it wouldn’t bother you?”

  He laughs lightly. “Mom, I don’t care if you date him.”

  “But what if it doesn’t work out?”

  “We can do the lessons at Dad’s house if you don’t want to run into him. Or someone else can teach me. I’m fine with whatever you decide.” He dives back into the sandwich, smiling as he finishes it. “Hey, did you hear the Yankees might be putting their first baseman on the trading block?”

  “No, tell me more.”

  As I listen to the details of the newest trade spec
ulation, I’m not sure why I’m so surprised Kyle’s cool with this. I shouldn’t be shocked. After all, I raised this kid to roll with the punches. I taught him how to handle whatever life throws at him. And he’s doing exactly that. He’s doing it admirably.

  He’s telling me life will throw him changes, and they might be for the best or they might suck, but whatever they are, he can handle them.

  That makes me happy. Ridiculously happy.

  When he clears his plate, he thanks me for making the sandwich. “And Mom?”

  “Yes?”

  “If it works out with Campbell, that would be great. If it doesn’t work out, that would suck, but it would suck more for you than it would suck for me. And if it sucks for you, I will punch him and beat him up and basically make his life miserable. Does that sound reasonable?”

  I laugh. “It sounds incredibly reasonable.”

  “Good.” He snaps his fingers, as if he just remembered something. “I need to go to the music store. Can you come with me?”

  “Of course,” I say, thrilled that everything is business as usual with the person I love most.

  Chapter 29

  Campbell

  * * *

  When I return home that afternoon, I’m weighing Miller and Ally’s suggestion. It’s not a bad idea at all. But it’s not the next step I need to take. Before I can do that, I need to talk to my daughter.

  I find her in the kitchen, holding a plate of cookies. Ordinary chocolate chip cookies. Uh-oh. That means she’s not baking for her show. She’s baking for me.

  “Dad.” She sets down the cookies and points to a stool at the counter. “Sit down. We need to talk.”

  I privately groan in worry. Abject worry. “Is this when you tell me about a boy that you like?”

  I’ve been dreading this moment my whole life.

  “It’s something like that.”

  I brace myself. I knew this would be coming soon. I give myself a pep talk as I cross to the counter. I’m ready. I can handle it. I can be a great dad and give her great advice on dudes.

 

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