It's Definitely Not You: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy

by Abby Brooks

  I pinched the bridge of my nose as I gnawed on the offer. Baking was on my list of potential hobbies, but I couldn’t go to Nan’s. “I really miss you too, but, I just don’t think I could handle running into Joe. I’m sorry…”

  “He’s not here, Kiki. It’s the only reason I asked you to come in the first place. As much as I’d love to see you two back together, that’s none of my business. If it happens, it’ll be on your terms, not mine.”

  Her voice sounded like love. Like understanding. Like a soft spot to land. Seeing as I was in dire need of all three, I would have been a fool to turn her down.

  I thanked her and promised to be there soon. It wasn’t like my newly single, unemployed self had much going on. The last week had been a crash course in how empty my life had become. I’d let work be my definition. Without doctoring consuming all my time, I had no idea who Kennedy Reagan Monroe really was. And without Joe, my social circle shrank to Mom and Nan, with a side of Delores for good measure.

  Not exactly a shining example of a well-lived life.

  I drove with silence for company, then pulled to a stop in the driveway, surprised by how much it hurt to see the place. Ever since I was a kid, Nan’s house felt like a second home. But now, Joe was everywhere—which made it feel more like home and less like home in some twisted double bird from the universe.

  The crisp lines of the porch contrasted the drooping ferns planted in front. I remembered the sweat glistening on his back as he hammered the steps into place. A smile ghosted my lips at the memory of the hammer crunching his finger and the parade of curse words that followed. I thought he was insufferable back then.

  I’d been wrong.

  And right.

  Underneath that rude, defensive exterior was a sweet man with a heart of gold being eaten from the inside out with bitterness and rot.

  Until he came to terms with his past, he couldn’t make a future. At least not with me.

  With a shake of my head and quick breath past pursed lips, I climbed the steps and pushed inside. The image of Joe, standing in the doorframe the first day we officially met stabbed me in the chest. The sun shining behind him had cast his body in shadow and I’d enjoyed the strong cut of his shoulders and fuck-the-world stance. At the time, I’d chastised myself for taking in the view.

  Turned out I should have listened.

  I brushed the thought away.

  “Knock, knock,” I called as I stepped inside.

  “In the kitchen!”

  I wandered back to find Nan and Delores laughing in a cloud of flour as they slid a tray of cookies into the oven. Chocolate streaked their faces. Delores had a smudge on her shirt and dough dripped from Nan’s hair. I smiled despite the hole in my heart.

  Nan plopped a cup of tea in my hands, and the three of us sat at the table.

  “How’s the job hunt going?” she asked. “Any prospects?”

  I sighed into my mug. “I honestly don’t know what to do. I want to find a practice where I can pour myself into helping my patients instead of focusing on the dollars and cents of medicine, but there just doesn’t seem to be a lot of that out there.”

  The idea of following in my Dad’s footsteps and joining Doctors Without Borders had grown more and more appealing. After learning he hadn’t abandoned my mother, I’d gone back and read all the letters he’d sent. Back when I thought he’d bailed on Mom and me, his tone had come across as bragging and egotistical. Now that I knew the truth, the man sounded plain happy. Maybe, what worked for him, would work for me, too.

  I explained all that to my grandmother. “Whatever I do,” I added, “I’ll need to make a decision soon. The money won’t last forever and I’m getting tired of sleeping on the floor.”

  “You could always move in with me.”

  “Oh, Nan. That’s so sweet of you, but I really can’t. Not while Joe’s here.”

  “He’s almost finished the renovations.” The light behind her smile faded. “He’ll be moving on soon.”

  That stung. It shouldn’t have, but it did. Joe moving out of the guesthouse would be the period punctuating the end of our story, with the least satisfying resolution. “That’s something to consider, then.”

  The timer on the stove dinged and she stood. “Oh! I hope they turn out this time.”

  “Maybe today’s the day.” Delores met my gaze with wide eyes and a slow shake of her head.

  Nan collected her cookies from the oven and plonked the baking sheet on the counter. The edges were burnt and the middles were raw. “I don’t think I’ll ever be any good at baking,” she said with a solemn sigh. “Maybe it’s time I just give up.”

  “Why would you do that?” I stood to hunt down an edible bite. “I love your cookies.”

  “You can’t honestly love them.” Delores looked mortified at her honesty and aimed an apologetic shrug at her friend.

  “But I do.” I glanced eagerly between them. “They may not always taste the best, but I’ve always loved eating them. It reminds me that you don’t have to be perfect at something to enjoy it.”

  Nan examined a cookie with a deep frown. “And here I thought you were just being polite.”

  “Oh, right, right.” I nodded as if she’d made a valid point. “Because I’ve always been so good at covering up how I feel about things. Come on, Nan. I’m such a bad liar, planning a surprise party cost me the one man I thought I could spend the rest of my life with.”

  The statement was out before I knew how it would end. It hung in the air with the ring of truth and I let out a sad sigh.

  Before Nan and Delores could break out the pity party, I hurried on. “Now, though, I’m going to spend the rest of my life like you two. Single. Strong. Independent. Maybe I’ll date someone casually, the way you date Carl. Or maybe I’ll find I’m just better on my own. Either way, I’ll be happy for the rest of my days.”

  Delores exchanged a look with Nan, then helped herself to a cookie. She crumbled off a bite and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully, then swallowing with a grimace. “Did you know I’m not single by choice? Not really.”

  This was news to me. I’d always seen Nan’s eccentric neighbor as the epitome of female independence with a dash of overactive libido for good measure. I grabbed a cookie and settled in for the story.

  “When I was just a little older than you are now, I fell in love with a man who changed me forever. I’d had boyfriends before, but no one I could stomach settling down with. But then, I met Glen and, boy oh boy, did I change my tune. He was the macaroni to my cheese, and we made everyone who came near us sick to their stomach. We were that couple. The one that kisses too much. That laughs too hard at each other’s jokes. The one that couldn’t stop touching in public.” She smiled dreamily and I saw the love she had for him still lighting her eyes.

  “What happened?”

  “Oh, we had a silly fight and I was too proud for my own good. He apologized, but didn’t take responsibility the way I wanted him to, even though, looking back, the misunderstanding was on both of us. I ignored him every time he tried to talk because all I wanted to hear was that I was right and he was wrong. By the time I came to my senses, I’d hurt him so badly, he didn’t want anything to do with me. I knew I’d never find anyone to fill his shoes, so I didn’t even try. Last I heard, he was married with grandchildren. So, yeah, I’m happy in my independence, but let me tell ya, kid. There have been many long, long nights where I wonder what could have been. Sometimes, I think I might try and find a Carl of my own, but what if I make the same mistake? I’m too old to go through all that again.”

  Nan stared at her hands as they twisted and fidgeted in her lap. She took a long breath, then wet her lips, pausing as she looked from me to Delores and back again. Something was on her mind, but she swallowed hard and glanced away.

  “What is it, Nan?”

  “Have you ever wondered why you haven’t met Carl?”

  Delores and I leaned forward in a carefully choreographed ballet
of curiosity. “Yes,” we replied in unison.

  Nan chuckled as her cheeks flushed pink. “You’ve never met him because he doesn’t exist. I made him up so you wouldn’t think I was crazy.”

  I lifted an eyebrow and exchanged a look with Delores. “You made him up so we wouldn’t think you were crazy? You realize how crazy that sounds, right?”

  After a long sip of her tea, Nan settled back in her chair. “Years ago, right after the kids grew up and moved out, George and I wrote down everything we wanted to do together. Judo. Tai Chi. We had a list a mile long of books we wanted to read. We planned to eat at every restaurant in the Keys and watch the sun set on as many beaches as we could find. But things got in the way. Work. Money. Life in general. We thought we’d have so much free time, here in our twilight years, that we kept putting it all off. He passed away before we could get any of it done.”

  She offered a watery smile and tucked her hair behind her ears. Delores patted her hand. “He was taken from us too soon.”

  Nan nodded, looking more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her. “I’ve been doing all the things we said we’d do together. I pretend he’s with me. Cheering me on in Judo. Laughing at a funny passage in a book. Eating dinner with me and critiquing the food. It’s silly. And strange. But it makes me feel closer to him. Sometimes, if I’m really quiet and close my eyes, I swear I can feel his hand on my shoulder, or playing with the ends of my hair like he used to. A lot of the time, I get the sense of him watching from a corner, his arms crossed over his chest the way he always did when he was happy.” She smiled into her lap. “I didn’t want you to worry about me being alone,” she continued, “so I made up Carl. I know it sounds crazy.”

  “It doesn’t sound crazy. It sounds beautiful,” I replied. “I’m sorry Grandpa passed away before you had the chance to do those things together.”

  “Me, too.” She patted my hand. “True love is special, Kiki. It’s not something to throw away and it’s certainly not something to take for granted. When you find it, you need to fight for it. To prioritize it.”

  “To swallow your pride for it,” Delores added with a muted smile.

  “I’m not sure Joe and I got far enough to know if we were in love, let alone if it was true love.” As soon as the words were out, I knew I was lying, as did Nan and Delores. “Fine,” I choked. “I loved him. I still love him. I just don’t know if he felt the same.”

  The glance they exchanged said they’d caught me in another lie, but I wasn’t sure I agreed with them. “It felt like he loved me, even though he never said it. But after everything that happened, after everything he said, I don’t trust I read the situation right. I don’t think I ever really knew him at all.”

  A knock at the door interrupted me. I looked up as something beautiful bloomed in my heart and eagerness settled over me. “Are you expecting a package?” I asked Nan, already halfway out of my seat.

  “That’s probably what it is,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Do you mind going to check? I’m…too upset over talking about Carl.”

  My feet were already in motion, drawn to that door like it had its own gravity, despite her obvious lie. “Sure. Happy to.”

  My heart thumped. A grin tugged at the corners of my lips. My body lit up, celebrating what waited for me outside before I caught up to what my subconscious had already figured out. When I opened the door, I found Joe standing on the front walk, wearing a floral shirt, cargo shorts, and flipflops.

  He held a box in his hands and my heart in his.

  Behind me, Nan and Delores giggled and exchanged a high five. “Sorry to surprise you,” Nan said without sounding sorry at all. “But you’ll thank us for this someday.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Kennedy

  I wanted to be mad at Nan and Delores for setting me up, but I couldn’t. At least not right away. Not with my heart pitter-pattering in my chest like a lunatic set free and Joe standing in front of me, a blush creeping up his neck as he shifted his weight back and forth from foot to foot.

  “You look absolutely ridiculous,” I said, my voice shaking with both laughter and emotion.

  “I don’t feel ridiculous.” Joe glanced down at his clothes and grimaced. “Okay, maybe I feel a little ridiculous. This isn’t exactly a Joe-approved outfit, but it is a meaningful one. I used to joke all the time that my heart and soul were as black as my boots. But that’s not true anymore. You’ve brought color to my life, Penny. An absurd amount of color.” He held out the hem of his shirt as proof.

  I took a step toward him. Then another, lowering my weight onto the stair that used to squeal my arrival. “It doesn’t feel like I’ve brought you any of that. You seemed pretty miserable the last time we saw each other.”

  “I was an idiot to jump to conclusions about you and Collin. I’ve always said I was an asshole, and that only proved it…”

  Tired of hearing that assessment, I held up my hand to cut him off. “You always hide behind that excuse.”

  “It’s not an excuse. It’s the truth.”

  “Would an asshole put his life on hold to help his brother? Would an asshole cook steak dinners for women he didn’t even like? Would an asshole build bookshelves and redo backyards for someone he’d just met?”

  “Obviously he would. I did those things. And I’m an asshole.”

  “But you’re not. That’s what I’m trying to say. You say you’re an asshole to give yourself an excuse not to grow. You were nervous about me at The Drunken Goat. Instead of staying home, trusting me to handle things, and dealing with your nerves, you show up and make a scene. Why? Because you’re an asshole.” I made air quotes and sighed. “I think whatever you went through when you were a kid left you scared. You’ll never outgrow it if you don’t stop making excuses and face it.”

  “You’re right.” Joe lowered his gaze to the box in his hands. “I know I hurt you the other day and I’m so, so sorry. I haven’t let you in because I’ve been sure you wouldn’t like what you found and you’d leave. I couldn’t stand the thought of being hurt by you. And then you did…”

  My eyebrows shot up at his statement and he hurried on.

  “I’m doing a terrible job here,” he said, sounding downright desperate. “You didn’t hurt me because you didn’t do anything wrong. But the fear, Penny. The fear hurt so much, I pushed you away. I’ve kept you at arm’s length by not talking about the hard stuff. And that’s not fair. Not to you or to me. If I want to drop the asshole act, I need to let the people who matter in. And you matter. I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m just asking for a chance to introduce myself to you.”

  Joe held out the box with an air of humiliation and importance.

  My words stuck in my throat, held captive by my jackrabbiting heart. I simply held out my hands, shivering as Joe passed me the box, his fingers brushing mine with just as much electricity as they did the first time we touched. I lowered myself to sit on the step and he sat beside me.

  “This house is kind of like me. Great bones. Tons of potential. But falling to pieces after years of neglect from the one person who had the power to put things back together.” Joe glanced my way. “Me. I had the power to put myself back together.”

  I laughed despite myself. “Yeah. I got that.”

  “I’m nervous, Kennedy. You know I babble when I’m nervous. I’ve never shown anyone what’s in that box. I’ve barely looked at it myself, but I kept it anyway, just to prove how unwanted I’ve always been.”

  Slowly, carefully, I lifted the lid to find a jumbled pile of photographs and drawings inside. No order. No care. Just chaos. I plucked out a picture and found a dirty infant with a shock of dark hair and blue eyes. He lacked the chubby rolls that beg to be squeezed. No toothless, gummy grin with just a touch of drool. My training ticked off the boxes of neglect, one after the other, after the other.

  Listless gaze.

  Wary eyes.

  The child looked half-feral, staring into the camera with distrust
.

  Dirt caked his face, his arms, his little cherub hands.

  A lump choked me as I flipped through the rest of the pictures. Joe grew up, sometimes looking as dirty and neglected as the infant in the first photo. Other times, he was clean and smiling, tucked into the arms of a caring adult. Sometimes he had long hair, sometimes it was short. Sometimes there were other kids in the pictures. Sometimes he was alone, with hints of bruises marring his skin. The only thing that stayed the same was the suspicion growing in his eyes with each passing year.

  His drawings looked nothing like the one Shane gave me. Nothing like the one still clipped to the fridge in Nan’s kitchen. There were no smiling faces. No yellow suns. No stick figures holding hands.

  There was black. Harsh lines. Frowning faces. Angry slashes for eyebrows and mouths. They hurt my heart and I wanted to go back and adopt him myself. To hug the kid who would grow into this man so he would never hurt again.

  When I looked up, Joe was staring at me with so much love in his eyes that I put down his past, fitting the lid in place with a sad shake of my head. “I had no idea.”

  “I really don’t like to talk about it.”

  “It might do you some good to let all that stuff out. It’s not who you are. It’s who you were. Talking about it will take away its power.”

  “Collin says secrets eat us up from the inside out.”

  “He’s a smart man.” I held up my hands and gave Joe a wary look. “In a totally platonic way. Just in case it’s not clear.”

  He bobbed his head as the smile I loved so much tried to make an appearance. “I learned what love looked like when Collin met Harlow. I saw the same look again whenever Maxine talked about George. And I saw it when you looked at me. It scared the shit out of me, Kennedy. I spent my whole life wanting someone to look at me the way you do. Needing it. Not believing it could happen. You’re looking at me like that right now and I’m terrified because I don’t know if I ruined everything. I know I have a lot of growing up to do, but I need you to know, in case you can’t see it in my eyes as clearly as I see it in yours, that I love you, Kennedy Reagan Monroe. I love you in a way that makes me want to wear floral shirts and flipflops.”