8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Charlotte

When I wake in the morning with a smile on my face, there is no denying I'm already in over my head. After just one date, I know I like Andrew enough to want to see him again. He was up for anything last night, and he was a perfect gentleman. Chills whisper up my spine when I think of how close he held me when we danced, and that goodnight cheek kiss? I vowed never to do any kind of kissing on a first date again, not after Rory. Granted, it was no big time kiss, but it was still more than I should have done. Still, if he'd made a move for an actual kiss, I would have been all in.

Ginger is tippy tapping in circles in the kitchen, ready to go for our Sunday morning run. I leash her up, pull on my sneakers, and head out. The only noise is the low rumble of a distant lawn mower, and I have the opportunity to observe my community in relative peace. My street is dotted with cottage-style homes complete with picket fences and daisies in the front gardens. I don't want to accuse our homeowners association of being insane, but they kind of are. They even sent out an email with specific planting instructions, which variation to purchase, and a list of allowable colors.

I chuckle out loud when I pass Arthur Jasper's house. He bucked the HOA at every turn and planted petunias instead. Technically, they couldn't do a thing to him because our covenants don't specify vegetation requirements, but everyone else plays along to keep the older population of the community happy. Arthur, on the other hand, would rather choke to death on dirt.

The pink petunias peek up at the early morning sunlight, bringing another smile to my face as we run past.

Ginger pants along and takes in all the sights and sounds, occasionally holding me back to have a deeper investigation of some insect or light post. By the time we make two rounds of the neighborhood, she's ready to eat and I need to shower for church. We make the final turn toward our house and dodge Trevor McIntyre's bicycle.

"Sorry, Miss Clarke," he calls over his shoulder. He must be late for his Sunday morning paper delivery. The Parker's Bridge Estate Gazette is a hugely popular community flyer that employs teenagers to deliver the weekly news. The happenings in our neighborhood are jumping and jiving, especially if you count the weekly Saturday night bridge games in the clubhouse.

Inside, Ginger shakes out and heads to her bowl for a big gulp of water. It's a busy Sunday with church, lunch with Josie and her family, then choir practice. And after that? My lips spread into a wide smile knowing I'll have a conversation with Andrew tonight. I cannot wait to get to know him better and plan our next date, which he seemed all too eager to confirm.

I slip into a flowing, flowery green dress and pull on my favorite strappy sandals. Topping my look is a straw hat with a sunflower. I feel a bit silly wearing it, but it makes the kids in the preschool Sunday school class laugh and call me Miss Sunshine. Grabbing a bagel on my way out, I try not to obsess over how long it will be until I talk to Andrew. There is no reason to go and get infatuated with a man I just met, but he makes it difficult to think about anything besides those gorgeous eyes, dark hair, scruffy face, and deliciously deep voice.

The traffic is a little heavier than usual, but fortunately, I'm ahead of schedule. While checking into the Sunday school class, I get bombarded by preschoolers excited for their lesson. Admittedly, teaching little kids is a lot more fun than teaching the older ones, mostly because they're so joyous about everything.

"Miss Sunshine! I wove your frowrer!" Brandon grins, showing off his chunky little cheeks.

"Well, thank you, Brandon. I like my frowrer too! Do you know what kind it is?" I kneel so he can get a better look at it while I also try to hug the other six kids leaping on and off of me like I'm their personal human trampoline. His dark-skinned, chubby little hand wraps around the flower while he inspects it. The hat slips over my eyes, so I peek-a-boo one of the preschoolers. She giggles and runs away.

Taking over the class for Josie was supposed to be temporary, but with new members joining the church almost monthly, we had great need for more volunteers. Since I love teaching—usually—it was a no-brainer for me to stick with it.

"Um, a dandelion?" Brandon asks and bites his lip.

"Close! It's a sunflower. You want to carry my hat to class for me?" Brandon's eyes light up when I hand him my straw hat and we lead the train of kids to our assigned classroom. The time passes quickly—and stickily if you count the three tubes of glue sticks Rain smeared into the carpet. We have a lesson, sing a song, and end the class with a coloring sheet and their scripture memory verse. Once the kiddos are safely back in their parents' care, I find myself thinking about Andrew again while heading to my usual seat for the service.

Josie and her family file in right behind me. She blows her blonde hair from her face and gives me the why do I do this again stare. I can't help laughing.

"Another rough class?"

"Teenagers ask hard questions," she says while trying to get her youngest to sit still. "Next semester, I get the kiddos and you can have the teens. You're used to them already."

I'm just about to protest and tell her that they never pay attention to me in class when the music begins and everyone takes their seats. The service proceeds as usual, and I only lose focus a time or two. Or three. Thank goodness it's during songs and not the sermon, but every time my mind drifts, it's back to my date with Andrew.

It was such a simple date. We had a picnic, walked, talked, danced. Yet there isn't a thing about it that I would change. Can it be this easy? Could it be true that the app knows what it's doing and really did set me up with the best match for me? I don't mean to scowl but I do, and Josie catches it.

"You okay?" She leans closer during the closing song and whispers, "You keep daydreaming."

"I'm fine. I'll tell you about it at lunch."

Most Sunday afternoons, I end up at Josie's house for lunch, especially if we have choir practice in the evening. Josie and Nick are my comfort couple. The duo that makes me believe in love, that it has no limits, takes no prisoners, and never lets you down. They've been through it all and come out stronger after every hit, proving that it is possible to maintain your vows without resentment or frustration.

But after Rory, I'm not sure if love is for me. I can't know if I'll ever find the Nick to my Josie. The mere thought of putting myself out there again almost brings on a panic attack, but then I remember the honest, bright smile Andrew flashed me every time I made him laugh. The sparkle in his eyes when he twirled me around. How he breathed in my perfume without even trying to hide it. My knees go a little weak, forcing Josie to give me an odd side-eyed, pursed lip expression of concern.

Once all our goodbyes are shared and Josie has her youngest strapped into her car seat, she gives me her attention.

"Okay, hurry up and get to my house because I have to know what happened last night. You are one hundred percent back to the sunshine and confetti friend we've missed so much the past few months."

"Must have been some kind of dreamy date," Nick adds, leaning on the hood of their monster van.

"How can you even tell that from one morning?" I ask, rolling my eyes.

"It's not hard. You didn't mope even once this morning, and you're wearing your silly flower hat." Josie flicks the sunflower the kids love so much, reminding me that my emotions often show in my dress. And lately, it's been boring.

I can't help the first thought that pops into my head, that Nick would probably really like Andrew. They have the same vibe—alpha but not aggressive, protective and supportive, a little edgy but with a soft spot. The way Andrew talked about his dog has me convinced he's got a super gooey center inside of that oh so attractive exterior. Just the thought of him, how he walked with confidence and protected me like it was second nature has me smiling all over again.

"Look at her," Josie says. "She's glowing."

"All right, I'll admit, the date was amazing. I'll tell you all about it at the house over lunch. I'm starving."

Nick taps the hood and waves the older kids toward the van. "All aboard! Train leaves in ten seconds!" Their kids scramble and pile in, ready for an afternoon of fun and games while I occupy their parents.

"Is Aunt Lottie coming over?" Hannah asks. Her little hands fight with the seatbelt latch, so Nick adjusts it and helps her push it in.

"Of course. The faster we buckle up, the faster we can head home." Nick hands her a coloring book and double checks everyone before opening Josie's door. "Your chariot, my lady."

Josie climbs into the passenger seat like a princess and waves. My heart pinches with jealousy that radiates all the way from my toes to the top of my head. I long for what she has—a doting husband, adorable kids, the works—but I wasted a lot of time on a man who wasn't as committed as I was. I think about last night and some of the frustration eases. I suppose it isn't exactly jealousy, but an ache deep in my soul that cries out that I'm ready. I'm lonely. I want this. Where is my husband in this big old world?

I get into my car alone and drive to my best friend's house, not for the first time wondering if I'm intruding on something precious. Should I spend so much time there, interrupting their family time together, or should I go home and grade papers instead?

Despite my worry, I make the turn toward Josie's house anyway. If I skip lunch with them, she'll know something is wrong. There isn't really, unless you count the aching hole in my heart and the emptiness of my home. I sigh and grip the wheel, resolute that I will not let memories of Rory—the man I thought was my one—pull me back into a pit of despair. Especially not when I have a phone date with Andrew tonight.

When I arrive, things are already out of control. Josie and her family have only been home a few minutes. The dogs run amok, barking like a mini wolf pack while the kids scream from various rooms that they don't know where their play shoes are.

I shut the door behind me and note Josies pinching the bridge of her nose. Her other hand rests on her hip. "I love my kids, but this is insane."

"What happened in the thirty seconds before I pulled in behind you?"

Josie drops her hands and turns to face me. "Never underestimate the power of a child with crayons and a strong will to pilot jet craft."

The way my brow furrows almost gives me a headache. "What?"

Josie waves her hands around. "They threw crayons at each other while making jet sounds. One hit Nick in the eye and I thought we were all going to die, then Colton found a half empty bottle of chocolate milk in the car from yesterday morning."

"Tell me he didn't—"

"He did. Then he gagged on it and projectile vomited down the back of the seat. My car is destroyed. I have to burn it now." Josie's blonde hair is still perfect despite her manic explanation—hands flying, little hops, and one dramatic swoop to explain how far the vomit spewed.

Nick wanders down the hall already changed. "Honey, I think Colton is going to—"

"Daddy! Colton is puking again!"

Josie presses her hands to her face and groans.

"Uh, I'm going to let you manage that and we can get lunch next week, okay?"

"Are you sure? You don't have to run off," Nick says, glancing between Josie and me. "We want to hear about your date."

Colton wanders down the hall with vomit down his front and one of the dogs runs past with his pants. The toddler is half naked and the house is a circus. It also smells of day old chocolate milk vomit, and I have never been more out of a situation in my life.

"I'm sure. Clean up, enjoy some family time, and I'll call you tomorrow to fill you both in on all the details. No need for you to cater to me when you've got your hands so full. Totally fine."

Josie groans, hangs her head, and heads down the hallway to take care of her messy family. Nick nods me off, so I see my way out. It's way too early to head back to the church for choir practice. I'm hungry, but driving all the way across town to my house then back to church also doesn't make sense. I decide I'll grab something on this side of town and take my time, relax, maybe shop a little to pass the time.

Maybe message Andrew.

I bite my lip to contain my smile, not that there is anyone in my car to tell me I can't be ridiculously excited to talk to him sooner.

There is a small strip mall not far from the church that has amazing food. I head there to grab something light and find a nice place to relax and maybe message with Andrew for a while. I settle on a soup and salad special at a local bistro—one that costs significantly less than the one my bestie is obsessed with. Once settled, I open my phone screen and try to decide which is better, messaging him through the app or text message since I have his number now. I figure texting might be better and faster, so I shoot over a greeting while those darn dragons swoop in my stomach again.

Killing some time before choir practice. Thought I'd say hi.

A few bites of soup later, my phone dings. It's Josie with a picture of their dog now wearing Colton's pants on his head…beside a toppled plant…and Nick with a bloody rag on his head. Her caption says it all. Evidently, there was a tripping incident and her parents are going to watch the kids so she can take Nick to urgent care for stitches. While responding, another message comes through. From Andrew.

Hi. This was a pleasant surprise. I thought you were having lunch with a friend today?

Hmm. He remembered, which means he must have been listening well when I spoke last night.

There was a toddler and rotten milk. It didn't end well. Decided to grab lunch on my own. How has your day been?

Do I want to know what happened with the child and the milk? I've had a great day. Just got home from church and I'm going to do absolutely nothing the rest of the day. Actually, Goblin will probably make me toss a ball but other than that…I'm chilling.

Sounds like a nice afternoon. I like choir, but my day is full when we have practice.

I wish I could see you tonight, but I get it. Obligations. I can't wait to talk to you tonight.

Me too. I had a really nice time last night.

I'm so involved in messaging with Andrew, I don't hear my name being called until a familiar scent invades my personal space. I glance up and frown before pulling my phone in front of me. I'd much rather message with Andrew than even see Rory.

"Lottie," Rory says and gently tugs my phone down from my face just when I was getting to the good part—Andrew's response that mentions something about an important topic he wants to discuss tonight. I scowl and pull it back up to hide my flaming cheeks set ablaze thanks to my annoyance.

"What do you want, Rory?"

"I'd like to talk to you. Can I sit?"

"Won't your girlfriend get mad at you?" I spit, glaring daggers at the phone screen though I can't read it through my frustration. If I look at him with these eyes, I'm liable to get put in prison for first degree murder. My whole body temperature inches up a few degrees, and every ounce of annoyance my little heart can muster burns under my skin.

"I don't have a girlfriend. I'm not with…Look, I was hoping we could talk about all of that?" His tone tapers off to little more than a whisper. I peer over the top of my phone and find him with slouched shoulders, a grimace, and those puppy eyes he works so well. There's no denying his attractiveness, but it doesn't hit me the same way. All I see is a cheater now.

Dramatically slamming my phone on the table seems like such a power move in my mind, but when I actually commit to it, I end up losing my grip and the phone flops onto the floor at his feet. Rory bends to retrieve it while I stay firmly planted in my seat. There will be no moments where our faces are so close we almost kiss, thank you very much. He sets the phone on the table and slides it closer to me.

"Gotta be careful with those," he says and manages to slip into the booth across from me without an invitation. I suppose rescuing my phone, in his mind, means he's entitled to my time and attention. I have no desire to give him either, so I snatch my phone up, stuff it into my bag, and stand.

"Wait, Lottie. Please, wait." Rory stands to meet me and my traitorous eyes take him in.

And I lied. He looks like a cheater all right, but he still looks like… my Rory. It isn't like a few months can change that, but it's a surprise to me how much he still draws me into his orbit and locks me there. Like Andrew, he's tall and dark, but unlike Andrew, he's a narcissist who is still only thinking about himself.

"Rory, you left me for someone else. If that didn't work out for you, it's not my problem. I've moved on. In fact, you really need to get the rest of your gear from my house. It's in my way." I sling my bag over my shoulder but he grasps my elbow.

"You haven't thrown it out? Lit most of it on fire?"

"No. It's expensive and I'm not ten years old. I can be a mature adult, unlike my present company."

Rory drops his head and scrubs his hands over his face. When his eyes connect with mine again, I have to stop myself from falling back into old habits so hard I'll get a concussion. I still care about him. It's impossible to turn that off after three years of commitment. Years spent wearing his jersey with his name across my back. Years of cheering for him at every game. Encouraging him after losses. Loving him even when it felt like we were drifting apart.

"Lottie, I made a huge mistake thinking I wasn't in love with you anymore. I thought the spark was gone but that was on me, not you. Can I get you coffee sometime and talk with you?"

I swallow my nerves and muster up my constitution. "I think that's probably a bad idea. You can come by and get your things, but that's all. There's no sense in going back and rehashing what went wrong."

"What about what went right? I miss my girl. I can't stand the idea of not seeing you in the stands cheering for me."

"Well, the season hasn't even begun, so that gives you plenty of time to get used to it. You'll survive." I cross my arms and plant my lips in a firm scowl.

Rory jerks back a little, clearly surprised by my response. I suppose it is surprising. It's not like me to be so snarky, especially with him, but he broke my heart. What does he expect right now? For me to drop everything and pretend he didn't destroy me?

He recovers and steps forward. "I don't think I will. I wasn't ready for the things you wanted and I panicked. Now that you're not mine, I'm miserable. I did a stupid thing, Lottie, and I hurt you. I know that, but I'm willing to do anything to make this right." He takes a chance and lifts my chin, running his thumb over my lower lip. "I miss you so much that it hurts to breathe when I think about you."

I pull away from him and bite my lip. "You should have considered that before looking for something better. I have choir practice. I have to go."

"Lottie—"

"Goodbye, Rory."

Leaving him behind, I rush to my car and try to control my heart. It's pounding but I'm not sure if it's because those old feelings have come rushing back, or because I'm in fight or flight mode. Either way, this is not good for me. I have to get out of here, get to practice, and refocus. There is no trusting Rory again, and I remind myself of that the entire way back to the church while praying that I'm not making a mistake by letting him go.