36. Birdie

Confession: I can be a bit of a hot head.

This was the most awkward car ride of my life, and we hadn't even left my parents' property yet. Walter insisted he hold the door open for me, instead of the driver, so the two of them danced around until I'd finally opened the door myself and got in the car.

As Walter walked around, I sent a quick text to Mara.

Birdie: Mom wrangled me into dinner with a guy. Sorry. :/ Feel free to duck out any time. I'll have the driver take me home.

The other door opened, and instead of looking at my date, I moved to buckle myself in.

Walter helped me clip my seatbelt. I wasn't even struggling. He just put his sweaty hands atop mine like I was a child and pushed in the belt until it clicked. Then he'd turned those round eyes on me like he thought we were sharing a moment.

It was a little sexual—now that I think about it—and in a gross way. Like a teenage boy who obsesses about sex but never has it.

I quickly moved my hand out from under his and folded it in my lap. Thankfully, there was plenty of room between us in the back of the car.

I couldn't believe I'd gotten sucked into this. What was I? A powerless child? No! I was a grown woman with my own car, my own phone, my own job, my own schedule. I could have said no to my mother.

But I hadn't.

Maybe a part of me wanted to be here with Walter? Wanted to close the door on something with Cohen. Walter would be a safe choice, not only for my career but for my future. Walter was stable. Unmarried. Had a good job with my dad's company. A relationship with me would, of course, disqualify him from ever getting fired.

Maybe my life wasn't supposed to be about falling in love. Or not in the sense of relationships. The love of my life was my career. My students. My friendships. No one got their happily ever after in everything, right? That only happened in Mara's romance novels.

"So," I said, anxious to cut the awkward silence. "How is work?" If my father was any indication, work was always a safe topic.

"We're working on a big merger now. Lots of meetings and late hours and golf matches on Saturdays."

I nodded. "Some of Dad's best negotiations happen on the greens."

He chuckled. "Your father is the master, although I have to admit your mother runs a mean game of her own."

Despite the heaviness in my heart, I laughed. He had a good point. "Imagine, making this reservation seem so accidental. We both know my mother never makes a mistake."

"Of course not. Behind every great man is an even greater woman."

"No great man keeps a woman behind him," I countered.

Walter didn't know what to do with that.

The car slowed and stopped, then the driver held the door open for me. Thankfully, I'd dressed nicely for the baby shower, because La Belle was one of the fanciest restaurants in the city. Of course, my mom thought that would be the place for Walter and me to spend time together.

A host led us to a table, and Walter kept his hand lightly on my midback. Very respectable.

Very boring.

We sat at a table, across from each other. He took the cloth napkin and folded it over his lap.

A second of silence fell over us, so heavy I knew we both had no idea what to talk about. We had nothing in common, except for my parents, which may just have been the biggest connection killer there was.

"So you're a teacher?" Walter asked.

"Guidance counselor." He'd asked that last time and hadn't remembered my answer. Mentally, I was even more checked out than I'd been before.

"Ah. The one who pushes college on students."

"And condoms," I quipped, not in the mood to argue.

He shook his head. "Isn't it crazy how schools push such a sexual agenda on their students these days?"

My eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

"You know, when I was a kid, the topic of intercourse was left at home where it belonged. Kids learned these things from their parents instead of being indoctrinated with ‘sex ed' at liberal schools by liberal teachers."

My lips parted. "I'm—I'm not sure I heard you correctly. Sex ed indoctrination?"

"Of course. They want to make sure every child has access to adult contraception. It's entirely inappropriate." He extended a placating hand my way. "Of course I'm not blaming you for the work you do. You're just doing your job."

"Wh-what? Hold on." I sat in my chair, reeling from what he'd said. "What?"

"I mean, you understand." The waitress came by, and he tapped the empty wine glass sitting in front of him on the table. Even the gesture, his lack of words for her, was so pretentious. He took a sip, slurping slightly, and said, "Besides, why should schools be shelling out birth control anyway? With taxpayer money?"

Okay, maybe I was in the mood to argue. I stood up, because sitting would have been too much for this conversation. "So taxpayers' dollars can't provide contraception, but they can pay for housing for single teen moms when their parents kick them out? Or free school lunches for kids when their teen parents can't get an education and a good job because they're busy raising children they weren't prepared for in the first place? Oh, but you're probably against that too."

"Well, I, uh, you're, uh—" he stammered, half standing, half sitting.

"Well, I, uh, you're—" I mocked. I threw my napkin on the table. "Bye, Walter. Enjoy your free lunch."

I yanked my purse over my shoulder, storming away from the restaurant. Surely the car was still there, but I was gone. I was done playing by the rules of people who had no idea what the real world looked like. I was done thinking I was less than because I had less than others.

I didn't know how but I was going to make it work on my terms.