12. Professional Opinion

12

PROFESSIONAL OPINION

S aturday morning, Regan was sipping her coffee and scrolling through the news on her computer.

It was barely eight, but she wasn’t one to sleep in either.

When her phone rang, she reached for it and saw her father calling and barely held back the frown.

“Good morning, Dad,” she said.

“Good morning,” her father said. “How are you doing?”

“I’m well,” she said. “You?”

“The same,” her father said. It was such a dull and boring conversation and so much different than what she had with Zander last night.

Her parents were like robots at times. Which also made no sense why they split when they were both the same. They married someone else just like them. She and Kellen often joked that they’d cloned their first spouses almost down to the same physical features.

“Did you call just to check in on me or have another reason?” she asked. No point in continuing with generalities and might as well get to the meat of the call.

Not that her parents ever did that and it drove them nuts when she did.

She didn’t care anymore.

She was a full-grown adult and wasn’t going to tiptoe around her parents and their personalities and hide her own.

“I understand Kellen has a new job and is moving?”

Regan let out a sigh. No surprise that this was coming up and she didn’t understand the big deal.

“Did he tell you?”

“He did,” her father said.

“Do you have a problem with it? He’s thirty years old and completely independent.”

“He is,” her father said. “But I worry about him being further away.”

She snorted. “You didn’t worry so much when he was younger and struggling to understand what was happening in our lives.”

Her father sighed this time. “That isn’t true. I was worried as was your mother. Just because we didn’t or don’t express our feelings openly like you and Kellen do doesn’t mean we don’t care.”

She never expressed her feelings openly with her parents. That was a funny statement coming from them.

They might not even know who she was if they saw her with Zander last night.

How open she was. How much fun she was having.

Even her damn appearance in a fun shirt.

It felt like a high school crush that her thirty-four-year-old self wished she could have told her sixteen-year-old self back then to be excited about.

That she’d be smart and strong and confident and stand up for herself when she liked a guy. Be direct, and if he wasn’t interested, he wasn’t worth her time.

Not to give in and do things she didn’t enjoy and tell herself it was compromising when she was the only one doing it.

Nope, she learned through a lot of schooling and self-reflection that relationships only work when both people put an equal amount of time and effort into them.

“I’m not sure why you’re worried now,” she said. There was no talking to her parents. Not even her stepparents.

They’d heard her and her brother and nodded their heads, but they didn’t listen to them. They didn’t understand.

“We don’t want to see him lapse again.”

She laughed. “Dad. He was a teen that got in with the wrong crowd looking for attention that he wasn’t getting from home.”

“We understood that,” her father said. “But it’s like an alcoholic, they can relapse.”

She ground her teeth. She didn’t know how many times she had to have this conversation with her parents. She’d just had it with her mother not long ago, and since her father was all but repeating the same thing, she wondered if they compared notes.

“Did you talk to Mom about this?” she asked.

“Your mother is concerned,” her father said.

“Did she tell you what I said about all of this?” she asked. No reason to say it again if it was already done.

“She did, but I’m not sure I believe it.”

Regan wanted to growl but held it in. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe her parents would understand more if she did let out a little frustrated sound.

“Kellen was not an alcoholic. He wasn’t a drug addict. He partied with the wrong kids and when he drank he did some stupid things. Like teens who don’t have the best ability to make fully informed choices in life. You caught him smoking pot in his bedroom. Again, something that a lot of teens and adults alike do. I believe him when he says he hasn’t touched any kind of drug at all since he was out of college.”

“So he was still doing drugs in college?” her father asked. “That is news to me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you know how many college students do the occasional drug? The percentage is higher than most believe it is and it goes up every year. Prescription drugs not given directly to a student are considered drug usage when they share them. The perception of it in college is almost as acceptable as social drinking. It’s not right, but it’s there. I know you and Mom never did anything stupid when you were younger.”

Yep, she said it tongue in cheek and knew her father would come back with, “Never. We knew right from wrong. We didn’t drink until we were twenty-one.”

“Then you’re the minority because even I was drinking in high school.”

“Regan!” her father said sternly. “Don’t let anyone know that. You could lose clients.”

She laughed. “Or gain them. It makes me human,” she argued. “No one follows the rules exactly and don’t you dare say you and Mom do. You don’t drive the exact speed limit. You’ve run through a red light before because I’ve been with you when it’s happened.”

“It changed while I was under it.”

She loved how they just argued they were so perfect. “Whatever, Dad. I’m telling you right now to let Kellen go and live his life. He’s got a good job and takes care of himself. There is nothing to worry about in terms of lapses because there were no problems. End of story. Go focus on Lori’s kids and grandkids.”

Her stepmother had two daughters that were married with two kids each. They probably had white picket fences around their brick homes with a nice front porch they sat on and sipped lemonade.

“Lori’s family is doing well and I’m not sure the reason you would say that.”

Lori’s family was doing so well because they followed the same societal norms her parents had in their heads.

College, marriage, family.

She and Kellen got the college part down. Neither of them was doing so well with a relationship to even get to a marriage.

“Never mind,” she said. “You are calling about Kellen. I’m telling you there is nothing to worry about. Or aren’t you looking for a professional opinion on this?”

She always loved to put it right back at them.

“I believe you,” her father said. “I just hope you’re right.”

Her lips were twitching in her frustration. Her parents never expressed any emotions that she and Kellen did and it annoyed them both and made it harder to get a read on things.

She’d finally let it go and decided to ask bold questions upfront. “I am,” she said. “But better yet, have some trust in your son.”

They hung up after that and she was going to call her brother and decided not to. He didn’t need this on his shoulders. He didn’t need to worry that maybe he’d never be enough for their parents when she’d told him so many times that he was.

When her phone went off twenty minutes later with a text, her coffee was cold and videos of kittens playing with strings hadn’t lightened her mood as much as she would have hoped.

But the text from Zander did, asking if she was up for an outdoor date.

She replied back absolutely.

Her phone rang in her hand. “Good morning,” Zander’s deep voice said. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’ve been up for a few hours and probably got more done than most do by lunch.”

“Not quite all of that,” she said and found herself smiling. “I’m a little lazier on the weekends. But I have been up since a little after six. Got my yoga session in, had a light breakfast, was reading the news and had a pleasurable chat with my father.”

“Your voice got dry with the mention of your father.”

“Caught that didn’t you?” she asked. It’s not like she was trying to prevent it from happening but didn’t think it was that obvious either.

“Sounds like it’s been an interesting morning.”

“Aren’t they all if you look at them with an open mind?”

“I suppose,” he said. “Speaking of opening the mind. How about going to the Animal Park at the Conservators Center.”

“I’d love it,” she said. “I haven’t been since I was a kid and went with a friend’s family.”

“Perfect,” he said. “I can pick you up at nine or we can meet.”

“No reason you can’t pick me up,” she said. “I’ll text you my address and be ready.”

“See you then,” he said and then disconnected the call.

Last night he’d been chatty, but this morning he got to the point and hung up.

Not a bad thing. Not when they had plans and there was no reason to sit around gabbing on the phone.

She looked at her watch and saw she had barely thirty minutes at this point to get ready.

First thing she did was text her address, then toss her phone on the counter and run up the stairs to her room.

In her closet, she was looking for a comfortable pair of jeans and decided it was best to put her outfit together from the bottom up.

She grabbed the sneakers she wanted to wear first. Fashionable but sturdy enough to be walking on the ground over dirt and gravel.

Next was the right pair of jeans that would work with those sneakers. That narrowed it down to three pairs in her eyes and then went even further to go with the ones more flattering on her.

Lastly was her shirt and she decided, since her jeans were a little on the looser side so she could move around walking, she went with a fitted teal cotton shirt that hugged her body and she’d tuck it in.

Once she was dressed, she switched over her purses for a smaller cross body one and then found the right lightweight sweatshirt for another layer if needed. She could tie it around her waist if she needed to.

Her doorbell rang just as she was running her brush through her hair. She snagged a rubber band and slipped it on her wrist in case she needed to tie her hair back and then dashed down the stairs to open her door.

There was Zander standing there in dark jeans, running sneakers, a T-shirt that could be painted on his body but was covered up mostly by an open flannel shirt.

What she wouldn’t give to push that off his shoulders and see the real treat he was teasing her with.

Since she was kind of doing the same thing with her shirt, she didn’t mind the game they were playing.

“I’m ready,” she said.

“I see that,” he said. “We’ve got a few minutes. It took me less time to get here than I thought.”

“Oh,” she said. “Come in. How far away do you live?”

“About ten minutes, give or take. This is a nice place.”

“Thanks,” she said. “It’s convenient. Not that far from my office or downtown. Enough space for me and not anything I have to deal with in terms of maintenance on the outside.”

His eyes went to the stairs off the side of the door. She had an end unit and liked that the best. Her garage separated the other unit from her, with her neighbor's garage next to it so the noise level didn’t reach her.

“I’ve got a small apartment that I’ve been in for years,” he said. “And since I don’t spend a lot of time there, I don’t care all that much.”

She eyed him for a second. “Is that a warning?”

He laughed and the sound vibrated in her belly right down between her legs. “It might have been a subconscious one. I’m not much of a materialistic person and can’t be bothered with decorating.”

“You’re more about efficiency,” she said. “Got it.”

“I think we are similar in that aspect,” he said. “But I’ll admit, your place is much nicer than mine.”

“No comparing,” she said. “Everyone has different likes and dislikes.”

“They do,” he said. “You ready?”

“I am. Let's go have some fun.”