by Ali Parker
“Why didn’t you cook?”
I smiled, thinking back to my life with a loving wife. “Your mom, she wanted to take care of us. She loved cooking me dinner and then when you were born, she loved taking care of you. She told me she wanted nothing more than to take care of us. I didn’t understand it at first, but she was never happier than when she was doting on us.”
“Didn’t she want a life?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Her life was her family. She would have loved to have twenty kids. I have to say I’m grateful we couldn’t.”
Olin laughed. “No kidding. I don’t want to be one of those families.”
“Your mom, damn, she was a good woman,” I said reverently. “She was always the first to volunteer at your school. I was glad she liked spending time with all you little, screaming kids because I never would have had the patience.”
“I remember her always being at every classroom party and bringing in treats and stuff,” he said with a smile.
“Yep. That was her. You know, she would stay up long after both of us were in bed, planning what she was going to make for dinner. I remember finding her one morning, her head resting on a stack of recipes she had printed. They were all dairy-free cake recipes. You remember your friend, what was his name? The one that was lactose intolerant?”
He burst into laughter. “Devin.”
I snapped my fingers. “Yes, Devin. You had invited him over for the weekend or something because his parents were going to be gone. She wanted to make him feel at home.”
He nodded. “I remember that.”
“Anyway, that’s that. Cooking can lead to love.”
He started laughing, which I took as a good sign. “Fine. But do I have to do it now?”
“No time like the present,” I told him.
“How about I watch while I eat my snack?”
“Only you could eat dinner while I make dinner so you can eat dinner again,” I said.
He smirked. “This is a snack.”
“Fine. Enjoy that metabolism while you have it.”
“You don’t have to worry about it,” he replied.
“About my weight?”
“Yeah. Mom said you could eat all day and not gain any weight.”
I smiled. “Your mom was being kind. She packed me lunches that were very light. I worked out like a dog.”
“But you don’t now,” he reminded me.
I sighed. “I will. I have the treadmill. I’m going to start using it.”
“You said that months ago.”
“But this time I’m serious.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Why? Trying to impress a woman?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. I like feeling good. We could turn one of the rooms into a gym.”
He shrugged. “That’d be cool. I’ll need to start working out to get ready for baseball tryouts. I’ve gotten a little soft.”
“Eat like that all the time and you’ll be a lot softer.”
“Ha. Ha. I’m a growing boy. I need to eat.”
I dumped some flour into a bowl. “You’re growing all right, but you might not be growing upwards.”
He smirked, stuffing another bite into his mouth, clearly not bothered by my comment. I liked that we could tease each other. It had been a long time since we’d been able to do that. He’d taken everything so seriously. Any time I tried to joke with him, he’d gone off the deep end. I had heard more doors slam in the last eight months than I had heard my entire life. I was looking forward to the days when we could close a door without rattling the pictures on the walls.
“What is that?” he asked, turning up his nose when I dumped some vinegar in the milk I had measured.
“This is a trick I learned when I was too poor to buy buttermilk. The vinegar sours the milk.”
He curled his lip. “I’m never eating fried chicken again.”
“It isn’t like actual sour milk. Trust me, your mom did this same thing all the time and you ate her cooking.”
“But now that I know,” he said not finishing the sentence. “You’re not poor. Why not go buy the right stuff?”
I shrugged. “I guess old habits are hard to break.”
“Next time, just text me and I’ll pick it up.”
“But then you wouldn’t get to learn this valuable lesson,” I told him.
He didn’t look convinced. As I made the chicken, I told him what I was doing. I doubted he was actually retaining anything I told him, but I felt better knowing I had tried. It wasn’t so much about him actually learning how to cook. It was all about us spending time together.
An hour later and one hell of a mess in the kitchen, we were sitting down to dinner. I had finally managed to get him to help a little.
“Well?” I asked after he took his first bite.
He bobbed his head up and down. “Good.”
I winked. “Soured milk and all.”
“Don’t ruin it.”
I grinned, taking my own big bite of chicken and nodding with approval. “I told you I could cook.”
“You’ve certainly been hiding it long enough.”
I laughed. “I wasn’t sure I still had the skills. Plus, it was a lot easier to open a box or toss something from the freezer into the oven.”
“That’s cool. I’m going to expect some good meals from now on though.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I told him, reaching for another leg. “Just an FYI, whoever cooks, doesn’t have to do the dishes.”
He scowled. “Since when did that rule come in?”
“Since five minutes ago. Since you watched me do all the cooking.”
He rolled his eyes. “I was eating.”
“I hope you get full soon. I don’t want to go grocery shopping again.”
“Leave a note for Marta,” he said as if it were that easy.
It was exactly what Carlie didn’t want. She didn’t want him to feel entitled or depend on other people to do things for him. It sucked because I didn’t really feel I needed to be taught a lesson. I had learned the hard way that I had to work hard for my money.
“Why don’t you make a list and you can pick up what you need after school?” I gently suggested.
He nodded; his mouth too full to actually speak. “Okay,” he mumbled.
We finished our meal, both of us eating way too much. I was definitely going to look into setting up a pseudo-gym in one of the spare rooms. I wasn’t too worried about my weight, but I needed to stay healthy. Especially if I was going to keep up with a woman like Leila.
I helped Olin load the dishwasher and headed for the living room when Olin headed upstairs to do homework. I knew he was going upstairs to text his girlfriend that wasn’t necessarily his girlfriend. I was going to take advantage of the privacy and text Leila as well.
I wasn’t a huge fan of texting long conversations, but if that’s what I needed to do to stay in touch with Leila, I would do it. Even if I felt like I was all thumbs. I flipped on the TV, waiting for her to text me back. I couldn’t help but smile.
Life was looking up. There had been many days when I had been convinced I would never be happy again. I had worried I would never find joy. Not just me, but Olin. He’d been in a dark place for a long time, but I could see he was coming through it. It had been a long road. We were coming out on the other side.
Texas was a good choice. I finally felt confident in that decision. Tonight, with Olin, had been confirmation that we were going to be okay. It was the first time in a long time I wasn’t worried about tomorrow.
Chapter 37
Leila
I didn’t even bother pulling out the paint supplies. I was expecting a call from Christopher. We had briefly talked yesterday, and he had asked if I would like to do something over the weekend. I, of course, said yes. After the incident with the dean, I had been very careful not to let myself get in any more compromising positions. Christopher stopped by and said hello and that was that.
No more lunche
s. No private moments in my classroom. Nothing. I was starved for his attention and his touch. I had gotten up early, taken care of all the little things I hadn’t done all week, and got ready for the day.
When my phone rang, I practically jumped on it. “Hi!” I answered a little too enthusiastically and not at all cool and casual.
“Hi. You sound excited.”
“No, not at all. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to come over and hang out by the lake, maybe have a barbecue or something?” he asked.
I grinned, my face practically splitting in two with my wide smile. “I would love to. I can be there in an hour.”
“Do you want me to pick you up?” he offered.
“I can drive,” I offered.
“All right, I’ll see you in an hour. I’ll text you my address.”
“See you soon,” I said and hung up.
I dropped the phone and clapped my hands together like a giddy kid. I got to spend the day with a very attractive man. I was thrilled. I could really get used to the idea of having a boyfriend, especially a boyfriend like him.
It was a cool day in the high fifties. I had the perfect sweater. I pulled on my boots, checked the outfit in the mirror, and grabbed my purse. I was not going to be fashionably late. I didn’t think Christopher would like that and I certainly didn’t want to waste a minute of my day off trying to live up to some stupid rule.
I swung by a grocery store and picked up some treats. I didn’t want to arrive to his house for a cookout empty-handed. The drive was a little hectic with all the other people in the city wanting to take advantage of the weekend and get out of town.
I made it to his house with five minutes to spare. It was a gorgeous home. It was obviously very expensive, but it was very tasteful. I loved it. I headed for the front door and rang the bell. Christopher answered almost immediately.
“Hi,” he greeted me with a warm smile.
“I brought cookies,” I said holding them out. “They are store-bought but I’m sure they’ll be good.”
“Thank you and store-bought is just fine with me. Come in.”
I followed him through the huge open foyer and into the open kitchen. Again, I marveled at how big the house was. He put the cookies on the counter and then turned to me, pulling me into his arms. It felt good to have him hold me. I sighed into him, holding him close for several seconds.
He pulled back and dropped a sweet kiss on my lips before smiling. “Ready?”
“What exactly did you have planned for the day?”
“I was thinking we could hang out on the dock for a bit. I know that doesn’t sound all that exciting, but there is something magical about just sitting and watching the water and the occasional fisherman.”
I nodded my head. “I think that sounds like a great way to spend a Saturday afternoon. I’m game.”
“Good. I packed some snacks in the cooler, along with a bottle of wine. I can bring some soda or juice along as well?”
I smiled. “I think a glass of wine while sitting on the dock sounds perfect.”
“Let me grab my jacket and a blanket,” he said. “It does get a little chilly on the water.”
“Is your son home?” I asked casually.
“No. He’s out with friends for the day.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
I had a feeling he was keeping the two of us apart. I wasn’t going to question his reasoning. We weren’t exactly in a serious relationship and it made sense he would want to keep his dating life private. I imagined it would be tricky waters for father and son. Dating after the loss of his wife would surely bring up some issues for the both of them. I just hoped the son knew his father was seeing me.
“Ready?” he asked, coming into the kitchen with a checkered throw over his arm.
“I am. Can I carry something?”
“Sure, you take the blanket and I’ll grab the cooler.”
The blanket was the kind with the Sherpa lining and so incredibly soft and warm I wanted to curl up with it right there. We meandered down the sidewalk from his backyard right to the dock. I was very impressed with the upkeep of not only his yard, but the neighbors as well. He waved at a neighbor as we stepped onto the dock.
“This is like something out of Mayberry,” I told him.
He laughed. “I wave to that guy almost every day. We’ve never exchanged a single word. Hell, I don’t even know if he lives next door or is just out for a morning walk.”
“Mayberry with boundaries,” I joked.
We took a seat on a bench facing the water. The bright sunshine helped take off some of the chill, but he had been right that the water definitely made things a little cool. He pulled me against his side. I spread the blanket over both our laps and snuggled against him.
“This is probably not nearly as exciting for you,” he said.
I smiled, looking up at him. “I love it. It’s so peaceful.”
“I agree. I don’t think we take nearly enough time to sit and do nothing but enjoy the beautiful world we live in.”
“You’re right. I don’t remember the last time I got out and just enjoyed nature. I’m always too busy at work, preparing for work, or working on that damn house. It always feels like there is something to do.”
He was quiet for a minute. “And then one day you realize you’ve been steamrolling through life and letting the world pass you by. We all get caught up in our own little bubbles and forget about actually living and enjoying life. We forget to literally stop and smell the roses.”
I nodded. I could hear the pain in his voice and knew he was talking about the unexpected death of his wife. Well, I was assuming it was unexpected, because I doubted she had been geriatric when she passed. No one expects to die in their thirties or forties. It was an unexpected event that had rocked his world.
“I think I’d like to smell the roses more often, or the water,” I replied.
His arm squeezed me a little closer. “It’s moments like these that make you appreciate life. I probably sit out here and think too much, but it has made me a much calmer person. I don’t feel angry or stressed.”
“You do have a very Zen quality about you,” I told him. “You have this calming effect that is hard to explain. I just feel settled when I’m around you.”
“Thank you—I think. You’re not saying I put you to sleep, are you?”
I laughed. “Not at all. I feel calm. Usually I’m always thinking about what comes next. What do I need to do next? My brain sometimes feels like it is on a hamster wheel, but sitting here with you, like this, I’m not thinking about the door that needs to be painted or the papers that need graded.”
“What are you thinking about?”
I smiled up at him. “You.”
He dropped a kiss on my lips before turning back to face the water again. I sighed with total contentment, resting my head on his shoulder. I liked that we didn’t have to talk. We could enjoy the peaceful afternoon without muddying it up with idle conversation. In many ways, I felt like we were getting to know each other better without the words.
Nancy had always told me the best part about being in a relationship was when you could enjoy being with someone and not feel like you had to talk. She had told me being present was far more important. Being in the moment and simply listening to the other person breathe and feeling their warmth was far better than chatter.
“How’re the classes so far?” he asked after a while.
I grinned. “There aren’t any hot single-dads for me to stare at. So, that’s a bummer.”
He chuckled. “Sorry to hear that. Are their normally hot single-dads in your classes?”
“Nope. I got lucky once.”
“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked.
I looked around the lake and then up at him. “I’m perfectly fine sitting right here beside you for the rest of the night.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t bring that many provisions.”
“O
h, bust out the wine. I’ve always wanted to feel fancy, sitting on a private dock and enjoying a glass of wine.”
“You’re really going to feel fancy then,” he said. “I packed some gourmet cheese to go with our wine.”
“Wow! You really know how to picnic.”
I held the glasses while he poured the wine. We spent the next hour snacking on cheese and crackers and sipping high-end wine. I wasn’t used to such luxuries. I could definitely understand the appeal of paying a little more for the finer things.
“Ready to go back up?” he asked as the sun slowly made its way lower in the sky and the temperature dropped.
“Sure.”
He held my hand as we slowly made our way back up to his sprawling house. “I have a couple of steaks and I will confess, I bought a couple of different kinds of salads. I wasn’t sure what you would like.”
“That’s perfect. What can I do?”
He nodded towards the cooler. “Pour two more glasses?”
I smiled. “I’d love to.”
I poured the wine, watching him move around the kitchen like he knew what he was doing. He was a man of many talents. I wondered if he learned to cook after his wife’s death. I imagined there was a lot he had to take on as a single parent.
In my opinion, he was handling it all with dignity and grace.
He checked his phone, smiled and then put it back on the kitchen counter. “Olin is staying over with a friend tonight. Would you like to sleepover?”
I smiled and slowly nodded. “I think that sounds like the perfect way to end a perfect day.”
“Great, then let’s have another glass of wine while I cook these steaks. I’ll turn on the patio heater and we can eat outside, if that’s okay?”
“That sounds awesome. I’ll pour the wine and grab the salads. Fridge?”
He nodded, a sweet smile on his face. I watched as he carried the seasoned steaks outside. I could really, really get used to dinners like this with him. I opened the huge refrigerator and couldn’t help but take a peek at the contents. A person’s fridge and their medicine cabinet were like getting a glimpse into their personal life.