Never Have I Ever

by Blakely, Lauren

  “Because I never thought I would.”

  “I never thought you would either. I thought you hated me.”

  “I thought you hated me,” I counter. “But I’ve been wanting you for some time now. I just didn’t think we’d get past the way we used to be with each other.”

  “I’m happy to keep finding ways to get in digs at you.”

  “I bet you are. But listen, here’s the other thing,” I say, and she tenses when I say the word listen. I make a note of that. Maybe listen isn’t the best way to start a conversation. “I can’t say anything to my kids yet.”

  Her expression turns serious as she nods her agreement. “Of course. It’s too early.”

  “And I don’t know when I’ll be able to. This is all new to me. And honestly, it’s not like I’ve googled how to date after . . . how to date as a single parent,” I say, finding the right words.

  “It must be hard.”

  “I’m not sure how to make it all work. I don’t know when I’m supposed to tell them. Plus, you’re already in our lives, and my daughter thinks you’re a rock star.”

  “I pretty much am,” she says, in that confident tone that I love.

  “You are. And she adores you.”

  “I adore her,” she says, soft and earnest this time.

  “So I don’t want to mess with that. Or confuse her, or confuse Henry. Do you know what I mean?”

  She squeezes my hand, as if she’s giving me some of her certainty. “Absolutely.”

  “And I’m not saying I expect you to bend to my schedule and my family and my needs—”

  She places her hand on my chest, smoothing it across my shirt. “I’m actually okay bending to your needs. You have kids. You have a family. They’re important. They’re the most important people in your life. But I do think since we’re taking it slow, and keeping it kind of quiet, that we should keep it on the down low when it comes to Charlie and Jessica.”

  I nod. “Definitely. They have a lot on their plate.”

  “I don’t want Jessica to worry about what this means or doesn’t mean. And I don’t want her to think we’re stealing the limelight.”

  She’s right. It makes perfect sense to keep this close to the vest. “I agree. So no kids, and no Charlie and Jessica. Sounds doable.”

  She smiles. “Definitely. And look, I don’t want you to worry that I’m this super-needy girl who expects you to ignore your kids and schedule me first. I have a rich and happy life, and I have lots of friends and family of my own too. But don’t ignore me again. Just send a text, okay?”

  “I promise.”

  “Good. And please know that I completely understand you’re not the twenty-eight-year-old investment banker from Morgan Stanley who only has a houseplant to take care of in his loft in Tribeca.”

  I arch a brow. “He has a houseplant? This Morgan Stanley banker?”

  She snaps her fingers. “You’re right. It’s a plastic houseplant. But it’s so realistic-looking.”

  I laugh then return to the conversation. “Anyway, all I’m saying is I don’t know how to do this. Mostly what I want right now is to not have any more conversations in doorways of hotels where I let you slip through my fingers.”

  She trembles and nods. “Same here.”

  “I want to try this.” I point from her to me. “Whatever this is.”

  “I want this too.”

  That heaviness that’s been in me, it sheds a few more pounds. Maybe it was a darkness. I’ve always had a little bit of a darkness and anger inside me, probably because of how my parents’ marriage ended.

  During the last few years, the darkness changed shape. It doubled down due to a change in my life that I never expected.

  But then, being with Piper is a change I didn’t expect either.

  And I like it.

  I like this change so damn much.

  I’m not going to analyze it six ways to Sunday. I’m not going to turn it inside out and upside down and make comparisons that don’t need to be made. She’s not Anna, and Anna’s not Piper, and that’s fine by me.

  This woman is the one with me now, and that’s all I can think of.

  The present.

  It’s a gift, and one I want to keep opening over and over.

  I’m okay with that. In fact, I’m good with it. I want this present so badly, and I want to see what kind of future it brings.

  Somehow, I’ve been given another chance. Another chance at happiness.

  And I want to discover how that happiness looks and works with the woman next to me.

  The woman I’m falling for.

  I don’t say any of that out loud. It’ll come when the time is right.

  Instead, I loop a hand through her hair and pull her close, bringing my lips to hers once more.

  When I break the kiss, she breathes out hard. “Wow.”

  Maybe she can understand everything unspoken.

  “Zach, I’m really looking forward to shuffleboard.”

  Yeah, I think she might know how I feel. And I’m good with that. I’m good with wherever we’re going.

  She points at the door. “But now you have to go. I have to call Chellize at the Heyward Grand Ocean Suites.”

  “Go work your magic.”

  That evening she texts, telling me she secured the venue, and she’s so grateful that she wants to give me a thank you blow job.

  I’m so damn tempted to find a sitter and take her up on her offer.

  But I don’t. I send her an eggplant emoticon and the words Rain check is mandatory.

  26

  Zach

  “Where are you going tonight?”

  Ah, that’s the question.

  The inevitable question that I knew was coming from the peanut gallery.

  But this time, I’m armed with the truth.

  Well, most of it.

  Tonight, I’ve shepherded Henry and Lucy along like a drill sergeant, reminding them to gather bags and books and phones and earbuds.

  Lucy’s question clangs in my head, echoing. As I steel myself to serve up some of the details, the tension in me ratchets up, even though I’m being honest. “I’m going to play shuffleboard. With your friend Piper.”

  She stops mid backpack-grab. Spins around. Lifts a brow. “You’re playing shuffleboard? With Piper? What’s shuffleboard?”

  I breathe a ten-story-tall sigh of relief, choosing to answer what’s behind door number three. “It’s a game. An outdoor game, where you push weighted discs down an outdoor court. Except we’re playing indoors.”

  Her nose crinkles. “That sounds weird.”

  I laugh, grateful for the game analysis rather than the date one. “Maybe to you.”

  She pats my arm. “You have fun playing your weird game.” She returns to her bed, grabbing her earbuds and jamming them into the front pouch of her backpack.

  I relax, but only a little. Because the truth is Piper and I are going to Brooklyn to play, then to drinks, and then to her place.

  The kids are spending the night at my sister’s.

  They probably think I’ll be here, in the only home they’ve ever known. But nope. This place will be empty. Daddy gets a sleepover too.

  “That’s cool that you and Piper are hanging out,” Lucy says breezily, then offers me please, pretty please eyes. “But why can’t I come along? I guess I don’t mind a weird game if I can play with Piper.”

  I gulp. Yup. It was too easy. Like I could actually get off scot-free.

  I tug Lucy in for a nuzzle. “Because your aunt wants to see you. You have no idea how much Emmy is looking forward to having you over tonight. And your cousins are dying to see you too. Don’t you want to hang out with your cousins?”

  Lucy seems to consider that then shrugs happily. “You’re right. I’m excited to see Jamie and Jenna. Jenna said she wants to show me a new Instagram baking show she found. So that sounds like fun.”

  “And Jamie has all sorts of games picked out too. And she wants to ma
ke waffles with you in the morning. And don’t forget how much you like making waffles.” I poke Lucy’s sides, tickling her, desperate to distract the inquisition.

  “But are hers as good as yours?” Lucy counters.

  “Well, that would be impossible.”

  She laughs. “True.”

  “But try to enjoy them anyway.”

  She sighs dramatically. “I’ll do my very best.”

  “Also, Daddy wants to sleep in,” Henry proclaims as he shows up in Lucy’s doorway. “We should let him sleep in tomorrow all by himself.” Henry turns around to face me. “I will give you a morning hug when I see you at Emmy’s tomorrow.”

  I cringe inside. This is tougher than I thought.

  I resolve to work on my parent-navigates-dating-his-daughter’s-favorite-person skills as I gather the kids and head out of the apartment.

  Lucy and Henry are ten feet ahead of me, darting down the hall, and I follow—then stop in my tracks when my gaze snags on my wedding photo. It’s been here so long, but it feels like I’m really noticing this picture for the first time in months. I step toward it, scanning the image, faded from sun and light and time.

  Mostly from time.

  But I can see how happy I was as I looked into Anna’s eyes, seeing forever.

  Feeling forever.

  She gazes back at me the same damn way.

  In an instant, our marriage unfolds like a flip book. A honeymoon in Paris, our first apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. The nights out and the nights in. The way she laughed at her friends’ jokes, at my jokes. She was one of the most upbeat people I’ve ever known, one of the happiest. When she found out she was pregnant with Lucy, six months after we walked down the aisle, she was a ray of sunshine, and so was I. We wanted the baby so badly, even though we were young.

  Her first pregnancy was remarkably easy, and we strolled through Target, registering for things we were convinced we simply had to have to be parents.

  We moved into this place, then Lucy showed up, and my life truly changed. Late nights, early mornings, hardly any time for each other. Anna and I argued every now and then over who should clean the kitchen and the bathroom, but never over whose turn it was to take care of the baby. We were a team, and when Henry came into our lives, we were the consummate upper-middle-class Manhattan parents, somehow balancing jobs and kids and sitters and classes and weekend activities.

  Until Anna got sick.

  And everything changed once again.

  As I stare at me in my tux, her in her dress, I see it all, remembering mundane details, like how she took her coffee, and forgetting others, like the smell of her hair. Recalling her telling me a funny story about a coworker eating cake from the break room fridge, then barely able to remember what her favorite Ed Sheeran song was, the one she said made her heart ache and long for me at the same time. Was it “Photograph” or “Thinking Out Loud"?

  She’s becoming faded around the edges too, and maybe this is how it’s supposed to be more than two years later.

  Maybe I’m supposed to stand here with the pieces of memory falling through my fingers as life goes on.

  And maybe I don’t need to have this photo front and center anymore.

  It feels both right and wrong.

  “Be right there,” I call out to the kids, then take the picture and take it to my room, setting it on the bureau. It’s not standing, and it’s not face down, but face up. Later, I’ll figure out where to put it, but it no longer needs to be in the living room.

  I’m not one to talk to ghosts. I’ve never spoken to Anna’s picture. But tonight, I tap the frame and whisper, “I know you’d be okay with this.”

  She didn’t have to grant me permission, but she did anyway near the end, wagging a finger at me, issuing her final instructions. “You better fall in love again.”

  At the time, I just shook my head. That’s what you do when your wife is dying.

  “I mean it, Zach. You better. You really better.” She’d reached for me, stroked my hair. “Not for me. For you.”

  I don’t know that it was her dying wish, but whether it was or wasn’t, I have a pretty good feeling it’s coming true.

  * * *

  Once I arrive at Emmy’s, my sister’s kids take over as little teenage parents.

  I let out a long sigh, glad I made it uptown without any further questions from the jury. Emmy pats my shoulder, sensing my relief. “Easier said than done?”

  “I think I botched the whole thing,” I say out of earshot of the kids as I tell her what Lucy said about shuffleboard and me going out with her friend.

  She offers a small smile. “Sounds like you did fine, actually. You told the truth, and that’s good, but you didn’t tell them stuff they don’t need to know. Now, stop beating yourself up and go enjoy the first date you’ve had in ages.”

  I rub my palm over the back of my neck. “You think I did okay?”

  “More than okay.” She shoos me out the door. “The clock is ticking. Go, go.”

  A little later, I push open the door to the shuffleboard club in Brooklyn and find Piper at the counter, checking in. She’s wearing jeans and a tight black T-shirt, and all thoughts of whether I was a super dad or a just-okay dad vanish because, holy hell, I pulled this off.

  And I’m going to enjoy the hell out of my night.

  For me.

  I’m going to enjoy every single second of falling in love.

  27

  Piper

  With the wooden pole, I shove the disc down the court, scoring again. “And another game goes to the brunette.”

  Zach laughs, shaking his head. “You didn’t tell me you were a secret shuffleboard expert.”

  I feign surprise. “Oh, I didn’t? So sorry.”

  “You’ve played before, haven’t you?”

  I hold up my free hand, taking an oath. “I swear I haven’t. It’s the Florida girl in me, I suspect. I’m just naturally good at party sports. I’d probably kill it at mah-jongg, bridge, and boccie ball too. And look, if you want to be crushed harder than this, we can play mini golf.” I offer a big smile because, honestly, whipping his cute butt on a mini golf course would be a ton of fun.

  “No way. I am not letting you destroy me at that.”

  “Too tough on your male ego?”

  He nods without hesitation. “Um. Yeah.”

  “One more round?”

  “I can’t seem to deny you, so the answer is yes, even though you’ve been killing me.” As we set up for the next round, he nudges me. “So, Miss Florida girl, do you ever go back there?”

  I tense, thinking of my mom, of our last phone call when she went on and on about Trevor. Or Travis. Or Trey. “My mom keeps asking me to come back. She wants me to meet her new boyfriend.”

  “You don’t want to?”

  “What’s the point? It won’t last. She thinks he’s the one, but she always thinks the new guy is the one, and he never is.”

  “And you don’t think she’ll ever meet someone she truly falls for again?”

  I go first, sending the disc along the floor. “If I were a betting woman, I’d say no.”

  He frowns. “That sucks.”

  “She doesn’t really have the best track record. So what should I do? Go down there, meet him, act like she’ll keep him? And then in a year, he’s gone too, because that’s how it goes with her.”

  “But what if?” he presses, setting up for his turn.

  I lift a brow skeptically. “What if he’s the one for her? I don’t buy it. She met the one, she loved the one, she won’t let go of the one. She still has my dad’s picture up in her home.”

  He tenses, his next word coming out like it has potholes in it. “Where?”

  “In the living room. Like a shrine. She justified it because it’s of the four of us. But I can’t imagine how her boyfriends feel.”

  “Should be someplace else. Not the living room, for sure.” He sends the disc down the court, scoring.

  I give hi
m an approving nod, then return to the topic. “Exactly. A wall in the hall, for instance.”

  “You really think she’s still in love with your dad?”

  “No. But,” I say, sadness coloring my tone, “I do think she’s hung up on what she had. I think she’s trying to recreate that magic, that once-in-a-lifetime love, and she’s falling short each time.”

  He hums thoughtfully. “I feel bad for her, then.”

  I spin around, surprised. “You do?”

  “Best thing she can do for herself, for her sanity, for her own soul is to learn to move on.”

  That buoys me—his strength, his solid footing. Even though we’re not at that stage yet, he seems healthy, and that’s a damn good thing.

  Maybe that’s why I don’t want to linger on my mom.

  I wave a hand before I set up for my turn. “I don’t want to talk about her. Let’s talk about something happier. Like, my sister’s baby should be here in a few weeks,” I say, updating him as I play, since he knows already about Paige’s adoption plans. “And my living room has become a home to her wardrobe for the first fourteen years of her life, with an extra chair just for all her blankets.”

  He stares at me, hands wrapped around the pole, his expression deadpan. “So you’re just completely forgetting about this kid’s teenage needs. Way to go, Piper.”

  I sigh dramatically. “I know, I’m the worst. So thoughtless for not yet prepping clothes for the teenage years. But I’ll get there. I just have more blankets to buy first. I bought seven the other day. I might need to shop for three more.”

  “Of course. You need to make it an even ten,” he says, deadly serious.

  I nod, patting his chest. “You get me.”

  Laughing, he sets the pole on the floor, grabs my hand, and tugs me close. “I do. And let me tell you, that baby is going to be one lucky kid to have you for an aunt.”

  I raise my chin proudly. “The Aunt Society already gave me World’s Best Aunt award. They said no one else would even hold a candle, so they were giving it to me preemptively.”