by E. K. Blair
I wonder how she’s doing. I wonder how bad her parents really are. I wonder if they’re the reason why she’s so closed off. I wonder why I’m wondering so much, but I can’t shake the fact that I need to know. For some reason, it bothers me, and I can’t let it go.
I pull out my cell and go back and forth on whether or not I should take this jump. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never wanted to. But now . . . Fuck it, I’m jumping.
Punching out a text, I send it to Mark.
Can you send me Candace’s number?
I sit and wait. No response. I’m hoping he’s busy with his family, and not asking Jase what they should do to keep me away from her. Fuck.
My phone starts vibrating with an incoming call, and when I pick it up, I see it’s Mark. I answer the phone as I step outside.
“Hey.”
“Hey, man. How’s everything going?” he asks.
“Good. You?”
“Really good. Jase is with my mom, cooking, so I wanted to give you a quick call.”
“Okay,” I respond, waiting anxiously for what he has to say.
“I just wanted to lay it out there for you. Jase loves Candace in a way that’s hard to explain. He worries. I do too. She’s had a hard time this school year, and I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard things about me—”
“So you know where I’m coming from,” he interrupts.
“It isn’t like that,” I tell him.
“Good.”
Before we hang up, I get her number and store it into my phone. When I go back inside, I don’t text her. I hold off. Instead I distract myself with the kids. I spend most of the day putting together puzzles and playing dolls with Maddie and Bailey.
After we all eat and I’m lying in my bed, trying to nap off my food coma, I stare at my phone. Looking at the numbers that are my connection with her. It’s a little after six o’clock. The day is nearly over, so I fight against my apprehension and type out my text.
Got your number from Mark. Wanted to see how your Thanksgiving went. –Ryan
Lying there, I stare at the screen, waiting. I start questioning if that move was too bold for this girl. It’s a move I’ve never had to question in the past. My moves have always been pretty blunt, so the fact that I’m worried about a text is unnerving. And then my phone buzzes with her reply.
I think we managed to fall into the universal tradition of holiday drama. : )
That bad?
I respond, naturally wondering what happened.
Kinda. Now I’m home with no food.
She’s already back at her house. She wasn’t supposed to be back for a couple more days, so whatever happened was bad enough that she bailed out early.
“Ryan!” I hear my mom call from downstairs. Setting the phone down, I go to the top of the stairs to see what she wants.
“What’s up?” I call down.
“I need to run out and get some Pepto tablets for Connor. When are you planning on leaving?”
“I’ll just head out now, if that’s okay?”
“It’s never okay,” she teases.
I grab my phone and make my way downstairs. I feel like I’m rushing, saying goodbye to everyone, just so I can text Candace back. But once hugs are exchanged, I walk out with my mom.
“What are the plans for Christmas?” she asks.
“Same as always. I’ll be here on the twenty-third.”
“You drive safe, you hear,” she tells me.
“I hear.”
“Call me so I know you made it okay.”
Nodding my head, I tell her I love her before hopping in my car and pulling out of the driveway. Before I’m even at the main street, I have my phone out and text her back while I sit at the red light.
Sorry, saying bye to everyone. About to head home myself.
Did you have a good time with your family?
Yeah, I did. Ate way too much. Feel like I need to hibernate.
LOL. Drive safe. Is it pouring where you are?
Not too bad. Try and have a good night.
Thanks.
I toss the phone onto the passenger street and drive the four hours that it takes to get home, all the while thinking about her.
I’m up early and just got off the phone with my mother. They haven’t even made it home yet. They’ve been out shopping all night. It’s almost embarrassing. I find myself rummaging through my kitchen, and something about eating so much yesterday has me craving another heavy meal.
I jump into the shower to get ready and remember what Candace texted me last night.
I’m home with no food.
When I get out of the shower, I take a shot and send her a text.
I am heading out for breakfast. Wanna join?
I pull some clothes out of my closet and get dressed when I hear my phone buzzing.
Sure. Where?
I’m a little shocked that she so easily agreed, but I go with it and don’t even question her.
The Dish Café. 9:00?
See you then.
After another cup of coffee, I head out and make my way to the local dive. I’m there first, so I go ahead and order her a tea while I wait. I pick up the menu to give it a lookover, and when I shift my eyes up, I see her walking in. I notice her leopard rain boots peeking out underneath her jeans, and laugh to myself. This chick obviously has a thing for leopard.
“Hey,” I say as she shrugs off her coat and sits down.
“Hi, thanks for inviting me. I literally have no food at the house.”
“So, what did you wind up doing last night?” I ask.
Slumping back in her chair, she says, “I ate an old bag of popcorn and passed out on the couch.”
“That’s pathetic,” I laugh.
Widening her eyes, she agrees, “My thoughts exactly.”
When the waiter stops by and brings us our drinks, she eyes the tea he sets down in front of her and I say, “I ordered you a hot tea.”
She looks a bit surprised when she replies, “Oh, thanks,” before picking up her menu. I watch her and notice her eyebrow give a slight twitch, but she distracts me when she suddenly asks, “So, how was your Thanksgiving?”
“It was good. We did the typical family thing like we do every year. Mom and her sisters being loud and gossipy, cooking all day. I hung out with the guys and watched football while the kids ran around screaming and playing. My head was pounding by the end of the night.”
She keeps a serious face when she says, “That actually sounds nice.”
“Yeah, it is,” I agree. “It’s not too often that everyone can get together, so when it does happen, it’s fun. Crazy, but fun.”
“What can I get you guys this morning?” the waiter asks when he drops by again.
“Um, I’ll have the two blueberry pancakes,” she tells him as she hands him the menu, and then I place my order.
She takes a sip of her tea and then asks, “So how many nieces and nephews do you have?”
Setting down my coffee, I say, “Three nieces and four nephews all under the age of five.” I smile when I add, “I’m not lying when I say it’s loud and crazy.”
When she doesn’t say anything in response, I ask, “So, you’re an only child?”
“Yeah. I have a pretty small family. My grandparents on my father’s side died when I was in high school, and I have never met my mother’s parents or her sister. My father is an only child as well, so it’s just the three of us.”
“Quiet.”
“Hmmm . . .” is all she replies before switching the topic back to me. “Is your mother out with the crazy Black Friday crowd today?”
“God, you have no idea. She and my aunts go bat-shit over the sales.”
When the waiter stops by and drops off our food, Candace lets out a satisfied sigh that I find humorous as she inspects her pancakes. She picks up her fork, and she must be hungry by the look on her face.
&
nbsp; “That’s a shitload of food. You gonna be able to eat all that?” I ask.
Eying me, she cuts a huge piece off and for such a sophisticated looking girl, she shoves it in her mouth, giving me a gratified nod, and I literally laugh out loud at the scene she’s putting on.
“So, is all of your family in Oregon?” she asks while she eats.
“Yeah. I grew up there.”
“Why didn’t you ever go back after you graduated?”
“Because I bought out the bar. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. But honestly, Cannon Beach is a small town. I love Seattle and had already been here for four years and felt pretty settled. So I stayed,” I explain. “My mom had a hard time though. She had hoped that I would eventually move back, but it’s been ten years since I’ve been here, so she’s accepted that this is my home.”
“You two sound close,” she says before taking another bite.
“Yeah,” is all I respond when I take a sip of my coffee and continue to eat.
When Candace tosses down her fork and leans back, almost painfully, in her seat, she closes her eyes and lets out a groan that I laugh at.
“I can’t believe you ate all that. You sound like you’re about to die,” I tease.
“You have no idea,” she says as she opens her eyes.
“You gonna be able to walk, or will I have to carry you?”
Shifting around in her seat, she tells me, “Honestly, I really need to walk this off.”
“Come on, let’s get outta here,” I say as I stand up, not wanting to become a victim of a missed opportunity. I toss some cash onto the table and reach my hand out for her to take, and she does.
Walking her out into the rain, I nod my head over to where I’m parked for her to follow.
She stops in her steps and asks, “What?”
“I know you don’t have shit to do today, so come on,” I say as I walk over to my Rubicon. When I look back at her, she’s still standing there. “Come on,” I repeat.
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll figure that shit out when you get in.”
Wanting to keep Candace around for most of the day, I took her to the aquarium. I knew we could easily burn a few hours there, and I was right. She seemed relaxed and had fun, but now I’m sensing tension from her. We just left her house after grabbing a few groceries from the store. I could tell she was uncomfortable with me being there.
As I’m driving her back to her car that’s still at the restaurant, she watches the rain out the window and quietly says, “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Today. I had fun hanging out,” she responds as she looks over at me.
“You should say yes when I ask you to go running with me tomorrow morning.”
“Is that you asking me or telling me?”
When I look over at her and give her a smirk, she starts to giggle as she says, “Okay then.”
Satisfied with her answer, I repeat her words, “Okay then.”
Feeling a little more comfortable talking with her after spending the day together, I decide to ask her about what happened with her parents. So when I turn into the parking lot, I put the jeep in park and sit for a moment. The rain is coming down hard, beating against the steel. Turning to face her, she looks at me when I say, “I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but I can’t help but wonder about what made you come home yesterday.”
She shifts to face me and lets out a sigh, leaning her head against the headrest. “I got into a fight with my parents. Some pretty nasty things were said, so I just left.”
“You guys fight a lot?”
“My whole life,” she tells me. “My mother is a difficult woman to be around. She doesn’t approve of the way I want to live.”
“What do you mean?” I can’t imagine what this girl could possibly be doing wrong to earn her parents’ disapproval.
“My parents are more concerned about their social standing than my happiness. So, having a daughter who wants to be a dancer and isn’t engaged to be married is not a good look for them.”
“That’s pretty shitty.”
“I’m used to it,” she mumbles, and I hate the fact that this has been going on so long that she expects it.
“No one should be used to that,” I tell her softly. “They should be proud of you. I’ve only just met you, but you’re pretty great from what I know so far.”
She fidgets with her hands, seeming uncomfortable with my words, but I needed to say them.
She keeps her focus on her hands when she speaks again. “I had always hoped that somewhere beneath their hard exterior that they would be proud of me, but after last night, I now know that they aren’t.” When she looks back up at me, she looks abashed as she tells me, “My mother actually said she was embarrassed by me.”
Jase was right; her parents are pieces of shit. I can’t even help myself when I lean into her, and slide my hand over hers. I want to do so much more, but I leave it at this. She stares at our hands, and I can sense her tensing up at the contact.
She sits up and pulls her hand out from under mine—flustered—she grabs for the door handle, but it’s locked. I hit the switch when I see her panic.
“Thanks,” she whispers before abruptly getting out of my car.
I watch her and wonder what’s causing her to flip moods in a mere instant. Fumbling with her keys, she finally gets in the car and starts it up. She quickly glances over at me, embarrassed, and I hate that. All I can manage to make sense of is that her parents have fucked with her head so much that she’s become removed from feeling emotions. I get it. That’s been me my whole life, but now, with her, I find myself wanting to feel instead of running away from it.
I was nervous about meeting up with Candace this morning to go running. I was a little unsure of how she would react to me after what happened yesterday in my car, but she didn’t seemed fazed by it, so I moved past it, and we spent a good hour running around campus and her neighborhood. She kept up with my pace, and I really enjoyed working out with her. I don’t even think she noticed how distracted I was though, trying to sneak a peek at her whenever I could. She’s small but there’s no doubt that this chick is in extreme shape. Her legs are insane, and in her tight running pants, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her.
And now, sitting up here in my office, I can’t keep my mind off of her. I start packing my things up to head out early. It’s Saturday night, but being the holiday weekend, the place is dead.
“Hey, man,” Gavin says when he bursts into my office. “You leaving?”
“Yep.”
“We going out?”
Standing up, I start heading out when I tell him, “No. I’m gonna go home and just chill.”
“Are you serious? Dude, you avoiding me?” he asks as I make my way downstairs.
“No. I just have other shit going on, that’s all,” I explain. He wouldn’t get it if I told him, so I don’t.
He continues to follow me to the back door, but before I can open it, he steps in front of me and snaps, “Seriously. What the fuck is going on?”
“Nothing, man. Don’t take it personally.”
“Kinda hard when I’m the one you’re avoiding,” he says.
Taking a moment, I explain without telling him too much. “Gav, I’m almost thirty. I’m sick of going out all the time to just fuck random chicks. I’m tired.”
He doesn’t say anything. He’s the same age as me, and I know he’s perfectly happy doing the shit that he does, but it doesn’t make me happy anymore. It never did make me happy; it only made me numb. Stepping to the side, he walks away, throwing a, “See ya,” over his shoulder before I walk out to the parking lot.
Heading home, I decide to stop and grab a pizza and some beer to take back to my place. When I get back into my jeep, I start driving home, but quickly find myself taking a few new turns. I’m not ready to go home just yet as the urge to see her again takes over, and I wind up pulling into her driveway behind her car.<
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I wonder if she’s gonna be irritated that I’m just dropping by unannounced, but it’s too late now that I’ve rung her doorbell. She appeared to be less skittish about having me in her house when she invited me in after our run this morning, so I try and let that worry go.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, completely taken off guard.
I don’t even let her see an ounce of my uncertainty when I give her a playful grin and step inside. “I ran out to grab some dinner and knew you weren’t doing anything tonight, so I drove here instead of back to my place.”
“Oh . . .”
“That a problem?” I ask as I head into her kitchen.
“Ummm . . . no. I just . . .” she mumbles.
“Just what?” I ask, looking at her, cute as hell in her pajamas.
“Just surprised that’s all. Why didn’t you just text me?”
“Because I figured you would probably tell me you were studying.” I start rummaging around, opening drawers, until I find a bottle opener. Popping the caps off the beer, I hand her one as she nods, agreeing with my last statement, and I shoot her a wink before taking a sip.
“So, how was the rest of your day?” I ask as I move around her kitchen, grabbing plates and a few napkins.
“Good. I got a lot done actually,” she says as she watches me.
“Great, let’s eat then. Do you mind grabbing the beer?”
“No problem.”
Walking into her living room, we set everything down on the coffee table and make ourselves comfortable on the couch.
She opens the pizza box to grab a slice, and then turns to me, asking, “How did you know I like pineapple on my pizza?”
“I didn’t. Like I said, I got this for me before deciding to come over.”
“Oh.”
Leaning forward I take a slice and sit back to eat as I watch her do the same. The thought of being out with Gavin right now just doesn’t even compare to this—sitting here, with this girl I’m getting know. I’m enjoying it. It satisfies me in a way I never would have expected.
“So, you know what I did with my day. What about you?” she asks.
She told me this morning that she was spending the day studying then going to the studio to rehearse. “After our run, I went to the gym to do some lifting. Then later, I went to the bar to work. Had to sign off on a bunch of paperwork and inventory orders. That’s pretty much it,” I tell her.
