by Iris Trovao
“Do what to her?” He set a bowl of dry ingredients beneath the mixer and flicked it on before turning to grab a tray of eggs from the fridge. “You can’t hold off on your feelings just because you’re afraid she’ll be upset you’re moving on from her brother.”
“But she will be upset.”
“And she’s been upset with you before,” he shot back. “You two have been through worse.”
Jolie chewed her bottom lip, staring off into space.
Janos skirted the prep table and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Do you like this guy?”
She nodded.
“Then just talk to him.” He squeezed her affectionately. “It’s not like you have to marry the dude or profess your undying love. Just tell him that you’re interested in him beyond this platonic text shit. It’s better than agonizing over it forever.”
She groaned. “It’s scary,” she whined.
He grinned, triumph on his face. “I know, boo, that’s why I’m here for you.” He turned her around and shoved her out of the kitchen. “Now let me do my job. You make yourself something sugary and delicious and text your Doctor Carson.”
“Do you need to say it with such innuendo?” She stomped her way out of the kitchen, his laughter following her as she approached the espresso machine.
She pulled out her phone with shaking hands. Like ripping off a bandage, right?
I have a confession, she typed out, heart hammering, and hit send before she could stop herself.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jolie: I have a confession.
Carson read the words over and over again. He hadn’t expected a text from her so early in the morning, and when his phone screen lit up while he was brushing his teeth, he’d nearly choked on his toothpaste.
Did I screw everything up by asking her name? He closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. He was hiding in his bedroom, though he knew the girls wouldn’t be up for another few hours. He almost wished they would get up, demanding pancakes, to distract him from the worry zinging through his veins. He’d been up half the night worrying about her abrupt departure before he could respond to her.
There weren’t any little dots to show she was still typing. Was she waiting for him to respond? Maybe she thought he was still sleeping? Or maybe she had changed her mind about sharing?
He sighed and simply typed, Oh? He hit send and waited, scratching the back of his head nervously.
The three little dots appeared, and he watched them disappear and appear, and disappear and appear.
“This is ridiculous,” he murmured to himself, but he didn’t move, nor did he look away. That juvenile feeling was back, the one where he felt like he was a teenage boy, butterflies in the tummy and all.
Jolie: I like you more than I should.
Carson was sure he stopped breathing for a moment. The three dots appeared again and relief flooded him, because he didn’t know what to say. It would be easier to just let her talk, let her take the lead on this conversation that he hadn’t even known how to start, let alone how to finish.
Jolie: I’ve liked you for a long time, even back when I really really shouldn’t have.
His free hand strayed to his face, covering his mouth, fingers rubbing at his cheek. Hope bloomed tentatively within him, but he fought to beat it back, because she wasn't done and this confession could be the start of a goodbye. Goosebumps rose on his skin as the thought of not talking to her every day settled over him with icy dread.
Jolie: I held off saying anything for so long because I felt guilty feeling this way for obvious reasons lol but now…I dunno I just
“Just what?” he murmured into his hand, staring at those three little dots like a lifeline.
Jolie: Wouldn’t it be hilarious if you blocked my number this time for real? And I'm just texting into the void.
His fingers flew across the keys to reply. Sorry, I just didn’t want to interrupt, he sent back.
Jolie: Shit lol
He laughed, and that tentative hope rose again, the warmth soothing the icy dread that threatened to consume him.
Jolie: I feel like a dumb teenager.
Carson scratched the back of his head, before sending back, I know the feeling.
Jolie: When you asked me for my name it felt like important, you know?
He swallowed hard. This conversation was happening, and he needed to participate. And participate honestly.
It was important. I’ve been wanting to ask for a long time but I didn’t know how.
Jolie: Me too.
That hope, that damned warm bloom of hope, encompassed him now. His heart thumped hard in his chest, and he didn’t know where to go from here. He wanted so many things, but he didn’t know how to vocalize them.
Should he say that he wanted to hear her voice? That he wanted to know what her laugh sounded like when she LOL’d, and if she’d double over and clutch her belly? Whether her eyes were as expressive as he imagined, big and deep and an open book to her emotions?
His phone buzzed.
Jolie: I guess it just made it harder to live in denial, knowing that there was this chance that you felt the same way as me.
“Very good chance of that,” he murmured. Me too, he sent back.
And then he didn't know what he should say. This felt like a turning point, like he could tell her all of the things on his mind, but this tiptoe dance they were doing was crushing him.
Jolie: So like what happens now then?
Jolie: We’ve established that we’re both losers lol
He laughed again, his heart clenching. I’m a lot older than you, he typed out, swallowing hard before he hit send.
Jolie: Yes, Dr. Dorky McNerdface, I already know that.
My kids are probably closer in age to you than I am, he sent, wincing at himself. He wasn’t trying to self-sabotage, but there were things that needed to be out in the open.
Jolie: Wow, SuperDILF.
His brow furrowed, and he flipped over to his web browser to look up the acronym DILF. The results were a delightful punch in the gut, and he chewed his bottom lip.
I’m old enough that I had to look up DILF, he sent, adding a little emoji at the end with its tongue sticking out.
Jolie: LOL
Jolie: Probably more embarrassing for me than you, doc.
A flush crept up his cheeks. He couldn’t help but wonder if whatever image of him she’d conjured up in his head would be something he could even live up to. But then, he had a version of her in his head too, and he knew that meeting her in person would be amazing even if she in no way resembled the girl he’d created. He wondered if she was feeling just as insecure as he was. Though he had a hard time wrapping his head around what a young woman in her mid twenties would be insecure about.
He shook his head. Everyone had their own demons.
I suppose I've been reluctant to ask because of everything we’ve both been through, he typed out. We met serendipitously, it feels like, but at a very difficult time for both of us.
Jolie: The guilt is real.
Jolie: For both sides, like it’s hard not to feel like it’s not my place to hit on you even though you’re technically not married anymore
His flush deepened, cheeks burning, and he gasped at the phone for a moment before sending back, Hit on me?
Jolie: I did not think about that before I sent it…
She added a facepalm emoji and he chuckled nervously.
Jolie: I’m a dirtball, okay? It’s hard AF sometimes not to reply to your texts with innuendo and I can’t blame it on drunkenness anymore lol
He raised an eyebrow. He remembered vividly that conversation shortly after they’d first met, where she’d mentioned fantasizing about sexy doctors. It had torn him up with guilt but he couldn’t deny the thrill it had given him as well. A thrill that was back in full force, shooting up his spine.
He pursed his lips, batting away that line of thinking as hard as he could fo
r the time being. My marriage was over long before it was officially so, he sent.
Jolie: Mine too.
He knew that, of course. They’d talked about it extensively over the past few months. Emilia had been invaluable to him working through his feelings, but talking to Jolie about it had been different because it seemed like she really understood him. Granted, her husband had died, not left her, but their feelings about their marriages before the big separations had been similar.
However, her ‘big separation’ had been her husband dying. Which added a whole extra level of guilt for her. He knew he had it easy, knowing that Gina was out there with her boyfriend and new child, having moved on. Jolie would never get that feeling of security. And it was that—mostly—that had kept him from attempting to take any kind of step with her. The rest had been pure cowardice, if he admitted it to himself.
Maybe it was time to admit it to her.
I took a chance yesterday…because I’d been afraid for so long to ask you the things I really want to ask. Partly because I didn’t want to push you before you were ready…but also just out of sheer terror that I’m not good enough. He hit send before he could think too hard about it, but then quickly added. That sounds horrendously self-deprecating, I know.
He held his breath, and reread his message six times, panic rising in his throat as her three little dots appeared for what felt like an eternity.
Jolie: Haha self-deprecating is my superpower, doc. You can’t scare me off with that shit.
He laughed, but it came out thick.
Jolie: I get it. I’ve been in the same damn boat. Worried that I shouldn’t be pursuing a man less than a year out of a long marriage, still raising his kids. A man that has a successful career and all this life experience, and I’m just durdling along, a recovering alcoholic learning how to budget properly for the first time. I don’t have anything to offer you, really, other than a transport truck full of baggage and a nice set of tits.
Ignoring the last bit before he got himself into trouble, he sent back, I’m quite sure we’ve already accepted each other’s baggage at this point.
Jolie: For sure we have. Which brings us back to both being pathetic chickenshits who have both been not talking about our feelings because REASONS. (Reasons=Being chickenshits)
He swallowed the golf ball suddenly lodged in his throat. That seems to be the case, yes.
Jolie: Is it time for us to be brave little lions, now that we’ve laid everything on the table?
Jolie: So? What are all the things that you’ve been afraid to ask, doc?
The hope surged, roiling inside of him like a storm, coiling around the snake of fear in his gut. That snake wanted to throw his phone in the garbage and run away screaming. But that snake was an asshole, and he knew if he did that he would regret it for the rest of his life.
What did he want to know? So many things. Things he’d feared were too personal for the friendship they’d been maintaining. Did she have any siblings? What was her childhood dream job? Did she get a kitten because she was lonely or because she was naturally nurturing? What was her favourite kind of ice cream?
Well, perhaps the last one wasn’t too personal.
“Fuck it,” he muttered. I’d prefer to ask you over dinner.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Three weeks later…
“Girl, what are you still doing here?” Janos huffed as he emerged from the kitchen. “You’re driving me nuts with your restlessness, will you just go home?” He shooed her with his hand towel.
Jolie snatched the towel in mid-flick and wrinkled her nose. “No. I need to keep busy or I'm gonna go insane.”
“But you’re not keeping busy!” He threw up his hands. “You keep spacing out and standing there like a zombie. Aren’t you supposed to be excited?”
She rolled her eyes. “I am excited, just nervous.” She drummed her fingers over the pocket of her apron, the back of her phone case producing a little tick-tick-tick beneath her nails.
“I know, but standing around worrying isn’t going to make you any less scared.” The bell over the door tinkled and Janos pasted a charming smile on his face, turning towards the approaching customer.
The man tossed some coins on the counter haphazardly. “Large black.”
“Absolutely,” Janos replied brightly, gathering up the coins and tossing them in the register. As he turned around to grab a paper cup, he regarded Jolie once again. “Shouldn’t you be at home anyway, agonizing over the colour of your eyeshadow and doing your hair in a hundred different styles?”
“As if you don’t do that too,” she muttered.
“Oh no baby,” he replied with a wink. “I always know exactly how to look fabulous.”
“Well King of Fabulousness, it’s a good thing you helped me pick a dress.” She forced a smile as a portly woman approached the counter in a puffy red coat. “Hi, what can I get for you?”
The woman sighed as she looked over the chalkboard menu. “Large non-fat chai latte, half-sweet, a shake of cinnamon on top, and make sure the foam isn’t too foamy.”
Jolie fantasized about grabbing the woman’s greying curls and smashing her face into the counter. “Gotcha,” she said instead, and got to work.
She zoned out as she went through the motions of making drinks, the rush of customers appearing out of the ether a blessing to keep her hands busy.
The last three weeks had been delightfully torturous. Carson had asked her out for dinner, and after a squeal fest, she’d accepted. When it had come to picking a date, he’d suggested her birthday, which had seemed like a good idea at the time. Instead it had been the slowest three weeks of her life, the anticipation of finally getting to meet him just dragging the essence of time through the mud.
Christmastime had been distracting at least, though peppered with guilt because Jolie couldn’t bring herself to tell Alicia she had a date. She’d spent the week over Christmas and New Years with the Hills, and though it had been a little more sombre than years past, she was glad she hadn’t been alone.
The other thing dragging the time along was the fact that her and Carson’s daily chats had been… She hesitated to use the word awkward but that’s almost what it had felt like, on her side at least. Though it was clear their relationship had changed, she hadn’t been sure about diving headfirst into big shifts in conversation. If she were being honest with herself, she wanted to save it all for when she saw him in person.
But today was the day. And she worried that she was going to see him and choke up completely without the safety that being behind a phone screen afforded her. This was everything she wanted, and she was excited, but it was also terrifying.
Her fear of not being enough for him intensified by a thousand knowing that he was going to really know her now. Which seemed stupid considering how much he already knew about her—about the worst parts of her. But she couldn’t deny that they were two very different people from two very different walks of life—
“Jo!” Janos cut into her thoughts sharply. “Seriously, go home, honey. You’ve been wiping that same spot on the counter for so long you’re going to take off the varnish.”
She flushed and glanced at the clock. It was three, which meant she had three hours to torture herself, get ready, and meet Carson at a fancy-as-fuck restaurant she’d never set foot inside.
“Okay, okay,” she relented, and tossed down the cloth.
He surprised her by throwing his arms around her waist and lifting her off of the ground in a squeeze hug. “Happy birthday doll!” He pressed a wet kiss against her cheek and she pretended to cringe. “You’re going to have a blast and he’s going to love you. Trust me.”
Jolie stepped back as he released her and shoved her hands in her apron pocket. “Okay.” She let out a deep whoosh of breath. “Thank you.”
“Leave your hair down,” he suggested with a wink. “Frames your cute-ass face.”
She rolled her eyes, stifling a goofy grin. “Okay, I'm leaving
now.” She untied her apron and headed into the back, suddenly feeling rushed. She gathered her things and shrugged into her coat, practically racing for the door.
Somehow, three hours didn’t seem like enough time anymore.
By four o clock, Jolie was showered and dressed and fluffed and primped, and she still had two hours to kill.
“Why is this so fucking hard?” she muttered, shimmying back out of her dress. She wanted to lay on her bed, but didn’t want to show up at the restaurant covered in cat hair.
As if on cue, Thor tore up onto her bed, purring and mewling, and bumped her knuckles with his head.
“Mama is nervous, little dude,” she cooed, scratching behind his ears. “I wish I could be more like you. Chill all the time…destroying my shit without a care in the world.” She laughed as one of his claws dug into the comforter, and he tore it free with a riipppp, leaving a slit in the fabric. “Case in point.”
Her phone buzzed, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Heart pounding, she got up and padded over to the coffee table where she’d left it, suddenly feeling ridiculous in the lingerie she’d picked.
She hadn’t chosen it with any kind of lurid intention in mind, considering this was literally their first date and she had no idea how it was going to go. But with the cut of the dress she’d had to pick this set because none of her other ones would have worked properly underneath.
Keep telling yourself that, she thought, and held her breath as she picked up her phone.
Alicia: Happy birthday biatch! Miss you!
There was a little kiss emoji at the end, and Jolie smiled. Miss you too, got extra tubs of ice cream to make up for it when you get back. Enjoy the beach.
Alicia: Bet your ass I will! I mean I am working! Shhh! I g2g to this boring networking thing but I will text you a drunken rendition of happy birthday later tonight. Love you.
Jolie’s smile faltered, guilt gnawing at her gut and ruining her appreciation of the gesture. Love you too, she sent back. She could very well receive the song while on her date…a date of which she had a sinking feeling Alicia would not approve.
