We went over the details and timing from the rehearsal dinner all the way through the late-night pizza buffet at the reception. Stella was an easygoing bride, and between Emme and April, the plans were so well organized that it seemed impossible anything could go wrong. At quarter to seven, they went up to change for their girls’ night out, and April and I lingered at the table.
“Whew, we’re off duty for the night,” my sister said. “Want a glass of wine?”
I nodded. “I’d love one.”
We moved to the bar so we weren’t taking up a table for four and ordered two glasses of pinot noir.
“So how are things?” she asked with a smile. “I’ve been getting an earful from Mom about your big plans, but we haven’t had a chance to talk.”
“Things with that are great, actually.” I filled her in on all the details. “Dad and I are going to meet with Natalie Haas next week about the financing, and I pretty much gave Mom my notice. Week after next, I’ll be at Coffee Darling full time.”
“That’s so awesome. I remember Natalie Nixon from school, although she’s a little younger than me. That whole family is nice.”
“Mack said he went to school with her sister Jillian.”
April nodded. “I graduated with the middle sister, Skylar. She works at Abelard Vineyards now, and I think Chloe knows her pretty well.” She sipped her wine. “Speaking of Mack, how are things with you two?”
“Pretty good, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Well, it’s kind of hard to tell. When we’re alone, it’s amazing. Actually, even when the kids are around, it’s amazing. He’s sweet and funny and he’s so flipping hot, I can’t stand it. The sex is unreal.”
“But …” she prompted.
I took a breath. “But it’s difficult. I feel bad for even saying this out loud, but trying to date a full-time single dad with three kids and keep it from them is tough—especially when you’re the nanny. Twice now the kids have walked in on us kissing in the house.”
April gasped. “What did they say?”
I had to laugh a little, remembering the looks on their faces. “Nothing really, but it’s obvious they’re confused. Kids are smart. They have to sense something is up.”
“Why doesn’t he want to tell them?”
“Well, when it first started, we agreed to keep it to ourselves because it was so new. But I don’t think we realized how quickly things were going to progress—I know I didn’t. I just hope he feels what I feel. I’m nervous he doesn’t.”
“Because he won’t tell the kids?”
“No, I get that, but the other night he said this thing that I can’t get out of my head. He said he worries about what will happen when I realize he’s not worth the shit I’ll have to put up with. He said, ‘You’ll leave, because you know you deserve better. And I’ll have to let you, because I’ll know it too.’”
April’s eyebrows rose. “Damn. What did you say?”
“I told him I’d prove him wrong.” I sighed despairingly. “And I hope he gives me time to do that, but what if he decides I’m not worth all the sneaking around and feeling bad? He told me last night that his mother was suspicious something was going on with us and lectured him about it.” I shook my head. “He warned me this was going to be tough, and he was right … but he’s worth it, April. I feel this down deep. I don’t want to give up.”
She reached over and rubbed my arm. “You want my advice? Just give it time. It’s only been a few weeks, and he’s probably still got a bad taste in his mouth about relationships because of his history. Divorce is really hard—it messes with your head. He’s trying to protect his kids, maybe even himself.”
“Himself?”
She shrugged. “Sure. Love is scary. You have to wear your heart outside your chest. He did that once and got burned.”
I closed my eyes. “God, that’s exactly it. It does feel like I’m wearing my heart outside my chest with him. Like my chest isn’t even big enough to hold it. But even though it feels huge, it feels fragile too.”
Her lips curved into a smile. “Congratulations, little sister. You’re in love.”
Mack
My folks arrived on Thursday, and that night I met up with Woods at Hop Lot Brewing Co., one of our old favorite places for food and drinks after work. I was looking forward to it, not just because I hadn’t seen Woods in a long time and he was like a brother to me, but because I’d had this fucking knot in the pit of my stomach all day long, growing tighter and tighter every time I thought about Frannie.
I’d lain awake all night long hearing her voice in my head. I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right? And then I’d picture her the way she’d looked kneeling at my feet, so sweet and sexy and happy, and my heart felt like it was going to explode. It was too much. Things had moved too fast, and my feelings for her were running too deep. She was all I wanted, and I wanted her all the time.
How had I let this happen?
Sitting at the bar, Woods and I caught up over local IPAs, wings, burgers, and fries. He told me how things were going for him downstate, about his job as groundskeeper for a country club, and the work he was doing on their house. He also grumbled a fair amount about the cost and planning of the wedding and said he’d be glad when it was all over. “I can’t fucking look at another flower, cake, or seating arrangement,” he said. “Seriously, just shoot me first.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Yes. I have absolutely no opinions on that shit and she doesn’t seem to understand that. It’s like she takes it personally. I tell her all I care about is that we walk out of there married. She could wear a paper bag for all I care.”
“Oh, Jesus.” I shook my head. “You did not say that to her.”
“I did. She was not pleased with me.” He took another sip of his beer and set the glass down. “So when are you gonna tell me what’s up with you?”
I picked up my beer and frowned into it. There was no use pretending with Woods. We knew each other too well. “I think I fucked up.”
“I’m sure you did.”
I tried to smile, but couldn’t.
“Shit. You’re serious. Is it one of the kids?”
“No.” I took a few swallows and set the glass down. “It’s Frannie Sawyer.”
“Frannie Sawyer? What about her?”
I looked over at him. Met his eyes but said nothing.
He got it in a heartbeat. “Jesus. Did you?”
Lifting my glass again, I nodded. “Yeah. I did. Multiple times. It’s sort of an ongoing fuck-up.”
“Shit.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “How old is she?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Oh. Well, that’s not bad. Are you worried about Sawyer?”
“I’m worried about a lot of things.” I shook my head. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, starting something with her. I don’t have time for a girlfriend. I barely have time to piss with the bathroom door shut.”