Chapter 12

12

WALKER

S hoot.

I know that Grandpa was only trying to help, but I feel that he's managed to drive a wedge between me and my would-be new girlfriend.

Jocelyn was unnervingly quiet on the drive home yesterday. Then this morning I sent her a photo of my empty coffee mug with a sad emoji, followed by a shot of a full mug with a happy face.

She sent back a thumbs up. That's it.

After installing new brake pads for a neighbor, I put away my tools and tidy up. It's clear that I need to give Jocelyn some space to think. Plus I don't even know how many jobs and projects she's working on right now.

I scrub my hands, then wipe down the counters and make sure everything is in order. Then it occurs to me. Maybe Jocelyn doesn't have her own space in order. Maybe she's so lost in her fear that she's not seeing things clearly.

"Going for lunch," I call out to Griffin. He looks up at the giant clock on the wall and doesn't say a word about it only being eleven.

I drive through downtown, looking for a familiar head of auburn hair. Eventually I spot her in the back of Corina's Coffee, so I stroll in and order lunch to go.

She looks surprised to see me looming over her table. "I'm not staying for more than five minutes, promise," I say with a smile. "May I interrupt you for that long?"

"Sure." She shoves some of her notebooks out of the way. "What's up?"

"I'd like you to play a little game with me."

Her eyebrows raise. "Okayyy…?"

"I'd like you to imagine your perfect day. Not a big celebration day or anything, just a normal, average day. A partly sunny Tuesday next spring, for instance."

Her fingers tap on the table, her beautiful blue eyes fixed on me. "What's this about?"

"I'll explain in a moment. Just please describe your perfect day."

She shrugs, then stares at the wall beside us for a moment, thinking. "I've always liked getting up early. So I'd probably get up around six, make a cup of tea, then write in my journal and read for about an hour."

"That sounds nice. Keep going."

"I'd have a small breakfast. Give the kitchen a quick tidy. Then go to work."

"Would you be working at home on this perfect day?"

Jocelyn grins. "Of course. Working in your pajamas or a giant ratty sweatshirt is the best."

"That's what I thought. Go on."

She stares into space again. "I'd curl up somewhere with my laptop. Do a few hours of work. Have a small but delicious lunch. Work a bit more in the afternoon." She sighs. "If I was only working on one or two projects, I could finish at four-thirty and have time to make a nice dinner."

"But since this is a perfect day, you would be finished at four o'clock so you could get ready to go out to dinner, right?"

"Oh! Sure. That would work."

I reach for her hand. "And in the evening?"

"You talk as if I actually have my evenings free!" she laughs. "Seriously, I'm a homebody. I like to go out to dinner or a movie now and then. Maybe dinner with a handful of friends. But usually it's just a movie at home. Or a good book."

"What about board game night with a glass of wine in front of the fire?"

Her eyes light up. "That sounds lovely."

"It really does." I squeeze her fingers. "Jocelyn, that's the kind of life I'd like too. Whether I had five dollars in the bank or five million." I give her a half shrug. "Okay, I'd go out to dinner a little more since I'm not broke. And we could buy a new board game every month."

She shakes her head. "Everyone says that money will never change them, but?—"

My hand darts out to place a finger over her lips. "Sweetheart, I don't want to talk about everyone. I want to talk about you and me." My thumb lightly caresses the side of her face as I squeeze her hand.

"I've always enjoyed working," I explain. "Even if I did take early retirement, I wouldn't spend my life lying around on exotic beaches. I'd just pass the business on to my kids, and work in my own garage at home."

We're quiet for a moment, simply gazing into each other's eyes.

"I know you read a lot," I say softly. "I know there are stories of people getting married just to get their inheritance early from their parents. Or people discovering their family secrets and having some huge mid-life crisis. You already know that's not me."

My thumb drags along her bottom lip, then I tug at the corner of it to turn her mouth up into a smile. "I do have one secret, though."

"Yes?"

Leaning in, my lips brush her ear. "Yes. But I don't know if it's the kind of secret I should tell you here at a coffee shop. Nosy researchers might be listening and writing everything down."

Finally she lets out a real belly laugh.

"It's more the sort of thing that I should tell you when we're surrounded by moonlight and roses, and all of that stuff."

She grows quiet again, then whispers, "If you're saying what I think you're saying, I'm pretty sure I have a similar secret. I'm just…"

"Scared? Sweetheart, I get it. I did not mean for this to move so crazy fast. But there's no rush." I pause, as she nods slightly. "But I do want you in my life, Jocelyn. Actually, to be more accurate, I want to be in your life." I stand up and come around to kiss the top of her head. "If I can make one request, might I suggest just relaxing today, instead of thinking yourself to pieces? We can talk tomorrow."

"Good idea."

I pick up the lunch bag that's now waiting for me on the counter, then give Jocelyn a wave as I leave.

Even though I want to wrap my beautiful girl in my arms and never let her go, it's clear that I need to be cautious.

But I have faith that my love for her is visible enough that she'll realize we belong together.