by Terri Osburn
“So you know Lindsey?” he asked, ignoring my statement.
“We’ve been best friends since we were kids.”
“Then did you tell her why you go on these dates?”
Not wanting him to think she was somehow complicit, I said, “She doesn’t know that I wasn’t taking them seriously. But that isn’t the case this time.”
“Did you know it was me?” he asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black dress pants. He wore a matching black suit jacket over a white button-down shirt. With the top button open and his hair slicked back off his forehead, he was the epitome of beautiful, but it was the man on the inside that I truly liked.
“I guessed, but I knew nothing about who she’d picked until an hour ago.”
“And you still came? You don’t want to be on these dates, and you know how I feel about what you’re doing. You could have saved us both the trouble.”
“Please,” I said, “this date is different. I do want to be here.”
“Why? You said you want to be alone.” He crossed to the railing as if desperate to put more space between us. “You’re just meeting men for dinner to get it over with, remember? Well, I’m not interested in that.” Storming past me, he added, “Stand up to your friends, Mere… Becca. This isn’t fair to them either.”
I reached for his arm. “Jacob, please wait. Let me explain.”
He brushed me off and charged down the stairs, refusing to listen. So fine, I hadn’t gone into the dates wholeheartedly, but he didn’t even know me. I had reasons, damn it. And he was going to hear them.
“How is what I did any different than what you’re doing now?” I snapped, following him down the stairs. “Did you come on this date to try to meet someone or not?”
“I came on this date to meet the person Lindsey told me about, not you.”
“But that is me,” I argued. “It’s true that I didn’t want to go on those other dates, but I want to go on this one. I wanted to ask you out the night you kicked that caveman date of mine out of Marco’s. I just wasn’t ready then.” I struggled to keep up in my strappy heels. “Would you please slow down. I’m going to break my neck on these stairs.”
“What did you say?” he asked, spinning and making me nearly run into him.
Out of breath, I stopped and clung to the railing as the boat swayed. “Which part?”
“The you weren’t ready part. What does that mean?”
Of course, that was the part he picked up on. I’d come here to be totally honest, but some stories were harder to tell than others.
“I was engaged,” I said.
“You were engaged two nights ago?”
“No, I was engaged two years ago.” The boat lurched, nearly sending me over the railing. “This is a difficult story to tell. Can we please go back up and sit down? If after hearing me out you still want to get as far away from me as humanly possible, then I’ll leave you alone.”
His expression didn’t soften as he looked off toward downtown, which was passing by at a solid clip. “Go on up. I’ll follow you.”
One hurdle crossed. Now the real challenge was about to begin. I didn’t talk much about what happened with Brian. I probably should have. Then maybe telling this story wouldn’t feel like volunteering to have myself drawn and quartered. Once I reached the top, I took a seat on one of the navy-blue metal benches that were bolted to the floor—for obvious reasons— and scooted in to make room. Jacob took a seat at the end, leaving several feet of space between us.
Not a great sign but at least he was willing to listen.
“I was supposed to get married two years ago in June. Brian was my high school sweetheart and is still the only guy I’ve ever dated.”
“The only guy?” he asked, brow arched. I knew what he was really asking.
“Yes,” I confirmed. “The only guy. The day before the wedding, Brian went to the mall to pick up his tux. Do you remember what happened at the mall in Green Tree two years ago?”
Jacob started to shake his head, but then his expression softened. “The shooting.”
A lump formed in my throat as I struggled to keep my emotions in check. “That’s right. A lone gunman opened fire, killing eight people before turning the gun on himself. Brian was one of those eight.” The tears came immediately, as they always did on the rare occasions I was forced to recall that day. Clearing my throat, I said, “Once you lose the love of your life, the idea of dating anyone else feels pretty pointless. So that’s why I didn’t want to go on those dates. Or any dates for that matter.”
I swiped the tears away. “I couldn’t imagine feeling for anyone else what I had with Brian. At the same time, I didn’t want my friends to worry about me anymore. I thought if I went on the dates, they would be happy and see that I’m all right. I never wanted anyone to get hurt or to feel manipulated, but you’re right, I didn’t take the men’s feelings into account, and I’m sorry about that.”
Seconds passed in silence before he said, “That was the day before your wedding?”
“Yeah,” I said, blowing out a hitched breath. “One day.”
After running his hands over his face, Jacob leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t imagine what that was like.”
“Not great,” I said. “I keep telling myself that I’m fine, and I am. Most of the time.”
Sitting up, he turned to face me. “Are you really?”
I dabbed at my damp cheeks and chuckled. “Like I said, most of the time. This week has been a little rough. My boss is having some health issues and needs me to run the business pretty much by myself. Throw in the dates that, as you know, haven’t gone well, and my defenses aren’t as strong as they usually are.”
Jacob pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket, which might have been the sweetest thing ever, before scooting close enough to dry my face. “You’re pretty tough, Meredith Rebecca Witherspoon.”
“I’m a crying mess, and the only reason I’ve physically survived this week is because of you, so I’m not feeling all that tough right now.”
He held out the kerchief with a smile that included a hint of dimples. “I’m sorry I was so hard on you yesterday.”
I took the offering and shook my head. “Don’t apologize. I was wrong for going on those dates if I didn’t want to. That wasn’t fair to those guys.”
Elbow on the back of the bench, he leaned his head against his palm. “Were you serious earlier about wanting to go on this one?”
I suddenly felt like a teenager again, wanting a boy to like me. “I was. You’re the first guy whose made me want to try again.”
“For the sake of full disclosure, I should tell you my story before we go too far. It might change your mind about me.”
“Are you going to cry too?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. “Because I’ve made a mess of this handkerchief and I don’t think you’ll want to use it.”
With a tilt of his head, he said, “I’ll do my best not to.”
“Okay then,” I replied. “Tell me your story.”
Chapter Thirteen
Before Jacob could get started, a crew member discovered us and said all passengers needed to be at their tables, so we were escorted to the second level and thankfully shown to a table for two with an excellent view of the city. The meal was served buffet style and since we were seated late, we were welcomed to visit the buffet right away.
Still reeling from the emotions of telling Jacob the truth, and nervous about how the rest of the night would go, I couldn’t imagine eating much. At the same time, I’d eaten like a bird all week and suddenly felt ravenous. I stuck with items that wouldn’t be too messy to eat and wouldn’t leave me needing a breath mint before dessert.
When I returned with my plate, Jacob was already at the table, though he rose and was chivalrous enough to push in my chair as I sat down. Not a common occurrence for me. The truce we’d formed upstairs remained, but now there was a strained awkwardness. At least
for me. During our previous encounters, he’d been a stranger that I felt no need to impress. He was just a guy—granted, a very kind and attractive one—who gave me a couple of rides and walked with me for a while.
Between our auspicious beginnings, the very raw emotions I’d displayed mere minutes ago, and my lack of dating experience, I was more nervous than I could ever remember being. That should have scared me, since that meant this evening really mattered, but there was an excitement as well. A sense of forward motion I hadn’t experienced in far too long. And that wasn’t just the boat moving beneath me.
“I guess I should ask what Lindsey told you so I know where to start,” Jacob said as I cut into my asparagus.
I tried to recall all the snippets of information she’d shared, which wasn’t much. “She said you teach history, so I guess that’s your one other job.”
He nodded. “That’s right.”
What else? “She mentioned that you’ve been in Pittsburgh for eight years, that you have a calm, comforting demeanor, and that you’re divorced.”
I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about her sharing the last part, but if I’d learned anything in the last few days, it was that honesty really was the best policy.
His knife paused mid-cut but otherwise he didn’t react. “I’m not sure about the comforting part, but the rest is accurate. My parents emigrated from Korea to the Atlanta area in the early eighties, and that’s where I was born and raised until I left town for college, where I met my ex-wife, who was from here. We started our life together close to my parents, but Jill wasn’t happy, so we moved to be closer to her family.”
That couldn’t have been easy. “Can I ask why you didn’t move back after the divorce?”
“For one, my parents aren’t there anymore. I’m not sure how much you know about the history of South Korea, but life over there is much better now than it was when they left. They went back about five years ago and I make the trip to see them every summer.”
“And there’s a second reason?” I asked.
He nodded, his eyes on his food. As he cut the steak into smaller pieces, I started to fear he might not want to share the rest, which was fair. He wasn’t obligated to tell me anything. But that didn’t mean the curiosity wasn’t killing me.
“The second reason,” he finally said, setting down the knife and fork, “is because my daughter is here.”
That I did not see coming. “Your daughter?”
“Yes. She’s six and her name is Sophia, but I call her Sophie. She lives with my ex-wife and I have visitation.” Elbows on the table, he joined his hands with a sigh. “She’s the reason for the three jobs. Making the alimony and child support requires finding other means of income.”
The expression on his face spoke volumes. Clearly, other women had reacted poorly to learning this information. Since I hadn’t even considered dating in the last two years, I also hadn’t thought about the implications and possibilities of finding someone new in my thirties. People had histories. And in many cases, they had children.
“I bet she’s beautiful,” I said. “Does she get to go with you to Korea?”
His jaw loosened as he visibly relaxed. “Yes, she went with me last year, and I hope to take her again this summer.” As if wanting to be sure I was listening, Jacob said, “None of this bothers you?”
A fair question. Maybe I would have a different reaction once I was able to digest the details, but right now I was simply relieved. There were much worse things he could have shared that would have been deal-breakers, but this wasn’t one of them.
“I’m sure that dating while being a single dad with a daughter comes with its own complications, but learning that you have a daughter doesn’t bother me, no.”
“I also basically told you that I don’t have a lot of money.”
“Who does?” I asked, loading a bite of potatoes onto my fork. “I make a good enough living to afford my apartment and do some flea market shopping now and then, but I also don’t have the monthly expenses that come with owning a car or having a family to feed.”
Jacob went back to eating. “That isn’t the usual response I get.”
“Really? Which part puts them off more?” I asked, truly curious. When you find your life partner at age sixteen, you don’t have to think about how much life—or debt—the other person brings into the relationship.
“That’s a good question, actually. I’m not sure.” He chewed his steak while contemplating his answer. “Probably both. Between the jobs and time with Sophie, I haven’t given dating much effort either. Most of these reactions were from my attempts shortly after the divorce.”
That led to the obvious next question. “Why did you agree to this date then? I got the impression during our encounters that you weren’t a blind date enthusiast.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“You asked me why I wasn’t finding my own dates.”
“That was based on the dates your friends were finding. You have to agree they weren’t stellar picks.”
That was an understatement. “So it’s okay to let your friends pick your dates so long as they pick the right ones?”
“I’d think that would go without saying.”
And here we were again, having a fun tit-for-tat conversation that made me smile and want for more. Testing the waters, I asked, “Are you glad you came?”
He loaded his fork while flashing a grin that curled my toes. “I am. Are you?”
“Glad that you came?” I said, being facetious. “This dress would have been a waste if I was sitting here all alone.”
“It’s a nice dress,” he offered. “That color looks good on you.”
“Thank you,” I said, making a mental note to thank Megan for choosing it.
Now that we’d gotten past the hard part, I had high hopes for the rest of the night.
I could not have imagined this date going so well. We finished dinner and relocated once again to the top deck, where the wind whipped my hair right out of the bobby pins. We laughed as we collected them from around my feet. Jacob assured me that I still looked beautiful, which made me blush, and we took a seat to watch the city lights come back into view. The afternoon shower had moved on, taking the clouds with it and leaving the sky clear and filled with stars.
As I saw the dock approaching, I racked my brain for a way to keep the date going. Two and a half hours simply wasn’t enough. But we’d eaten and I couldn’t think of what else we could do. I wasn’t interested in hitting a club. That wasn’t my thing, and we’d never be able to talk over the volume of the music anyway. I could always ask him to take me home, but that still meant the date would end far too soon.
To my relief, Jacob solved the dilemma for me.
“Do you want to take a walk up to the shops?” he asked as we stepped off the boat. The man read my mind.
“I’d love that.”
The trees lining the walkway back to Station Square Drive were filled with tiny fairy lights and I couldn’t help but smile as we passed beneath them. We’d yet to so much as hold hands, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted that to change or not. This was still new, and there’d been moments during the cruise when I’d felt… I wasn’t even sure what word to use. Guilty? Knowing that I wasn’t doing anything wrong didn’t silence the irrational thoughts that I was somehow betraying Brian.
Brian wasn’t here. But through some twist of fate, I was. There was no reason I shouldn’t go on with my life.
“Do you like event planning?” Jacob asked as we made our way past the Sheraton toward the bustling shopping area ahead.
“I do,” I replied. “I’ve always loved list making and organization. Add that every event results in making people happy and there isn’t a better job out there.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I like teaching. Shaping young lives. Expanding the minds of future generations.”
“Dodging spitballs and dealing with parents who think their kid can do no wrong,” I added.
> With a deep chuckle, he nodded. “I forgot your best friend is a teacher, too. You must plan a lot of weddings. That doesn’t bother you, after what happened?”
Excellent question. “I couldn’t do them for the first year. My boss was great. She took them all and let me do the non-wedding events. That’s why I owe her now. I probably would have quit if she hadn’t gone out of her way to make things as easy as possible. Even when I spent three months unable to get out of bed let alone plan anything, she gave me the time I needed.”
“She must have understood what you were going through. Did she have a similar experience?”
I hadn’t considered the possibility. “Maybe? My boss doesn’t share much about her life. She’s recently been diagnosed with cancer and she won’t even tell me what kind or any of the details. We’ve worked together for eight years and I probably know more about you than I do about her.”
“Some people are more private than others,” he pointed out.
“Is that why Lindsey doesn’t know you have the other jobs?”
Hands in his pockets, he stared off into the distance as we strolled at a leisurely pace. “There are a few of us who have other jobs, but it isn’t something we talk about openly. It’s no secret that teachers don’t get paid enough in this country. I’ve lost count of how many colleagues have quit over the years because they move on to other jobs that pay more.”
“And probably come with less stress and better hours,” I offered.
“That too. How about we talk about something less depressing?”
“I’m all for that. How about a first date version of twenty questions?”
“That sounds slightly less fun than a root canal,” he replied, “but I’m game.”
I nudged him with my shoulder. “I’ll go easy on you, promise.”
He cast a challenging glance my way. “So you get to go first?”