by Marika Ray
Instead, I grabbed my journal and got busy scribbling into it while Stein was occupied. I needed to write out everything that had happened between Lily-Marie and me. The conclusion to the infamous experiment that had gone all wrong. As I wrote out how I felt watching her today, I realized I was jealous. I was wholly green with it, finally understanding that phrase for the first time.
I was so deep into my thoughts, a silent pity party for my single status, I didn’t hear Stein turn off the television. Only when he placed his hand on my arm, did I put the pen down and look up.
“Did you hear me, Dad?” Stein patiently asked me. He knew how I was when I was reading, writing, or thinking. I never heard someone unless they shouted my name multiple times, too caught up in my head to be aware of my surroundings.
I blinked. “I’m sorry. What’s that, son?”
“I asked you what was wrong. You’re over here, like, grunting.” He giggled.
I didn’t blame him. My love life, and my reaction to it, was quite pathetic. One day I hoped to look back on all this and giggle too. Like, years from now. Maybe when I was in the old folks’ home and half senile anyway.
“You really want to know?” I lifted an eyebrow, daring him.
He scooted closer, face earnest. “Dad, is this about Clark’s mom?”
Damn these kids and their perception. They always knew what was going on, except for when it was time to do chores and they played dumb. I covered my surprise as much as I could.
“Well, it’s mostly about that experiment I told you about when we first moved here.”
“The one about true love?”
“Yep, that’s the one. Remember how I was going to run an experiment to prove that romantic love doesn’t exist?”
Stein nodded, still looking more serious than an eight-year-old should. “Yeah, I remember. Did you finish the experiment?”
I set my journal aside and shifted so I faced him. This conversation required my full attention. “I sure did. I borrowed some tactics from a magazine article and unleashed them on Lily-Marie. My hypothesis claimed she wouldn’t be affected. Love wouldn’t suddenly appear out of thin air, thus proving me right.”
I paused, struggling for how to describe what actually happened.
“And? Did you get your hyp-thus correct?”
Sigh. “Nope, not even a little bit.”
Stein gasped. “Lily-Marie is in love with you?”
I chuckled ruefully. “Nope, not even a little bit.” Stein’s eyebrows drew into a frown. “I fell in love with her.”
Stein’s face cleared and he hopped off the couch to stand in front of me. “That’s great, Dad!”
I couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. His support was heart-melting, even if misplaced. “Well, not really. She’s not in love with me, so that means I’m kinda frustrated and miserable right now.”
Stein shook his head. “Nah, you’re just focusing on the wrong things right now, Dad, and that’s making you miserable.”
“What do you mean?”
“First of all, you discovered that romantic love exists and that’s fantastic news, don’t you think? And second of all, you just gotta make your grand gesture and Lily-Marie will love you too. That’s how they always do it in the movies.” He shrugged, like everything was figured out.
“My grand gesture, huh?” I scrubbed a hand through my hair. Didn’t sound any worse than what I was currently thinking about, which focused primarily on giving up. “What exactly is a grand gesture?”
“Haven’t you been watching all the movies we see? The guy always makes a big plan to show the woman how much he loves her. Like in Sleeping Beauty, he kissed her to wake her up. In Moana, he sails across the earth to help her. In a Dog’s Purpose, he travels through several lifetimes, just to bring two people in love together. A grand gesture.”
Hope flares, a tiny flame about to sputter out at the slightest gust of wind. Or maybe ready to burst into a huge wall of flame with the slightest bit of encouragement from an insightful boy.
“A grand gesture,” I repeated myself, the idea taking root, building and growing into something beautiful and earnest and raw. Declaring I loved Lily-Marie was only the first step to sharing myself with her, I realized. The real declaration of love wasn’t in the words, but in the listening, in the doing. I needed to listen to her, fully understand what she needed in a partner, and then be that partner. Not because I needed her. But because she needed me. Because I wanted to be the man she deserved.
I grabbed my pen and opened the journal again, turning to a fresh page and leaning forward, my forehead almost touching Stein’s.
“Let’s get to brainstorming, son.”
17
Lily-Marie
I didn’t know if it was being sleep-deprived from Butterscotch, the name drawn out of the hat for our new puppy, or if it was a natural function of missing the man next door. Either way, I dragged ass all week, my normal energy drained like my cell phone battery by the end of the day.
I hadn’t figured out what to do about Jameson, nor had I continued my list of ways to find a husband. I was stuck, stagnant, standing in one place and getting damn sick of myself in the process. My stomach got queasy every time I thought of Jameson’s face when the guy from down the street asked me to go running with him. The idea of implementing any of the other ways on my list made me want to hurl.
But I couldn’t make myself go over there and talk to Jameson either.
I called myself every name in the book. It boiled down to the fact I was, in fact, a big, fat chicken. Something kept holding me back and I couldn’t put my finger on it. The bouquet waiting for me every morning on my welcome mat didn’t help matters either. There was never a note, but I knew they were from Jameson. It was the same bouquet of flowers he’d given me that first night I’d invited him and Stein over for dinner. His intent was clear: he wasn’t done wooing me. He’d backed off substantially, but not entirely.
I loved those flowers and dreaded them at the same time. My thoughts and feelings were all over the map and there I stayed, stuck in one place, no decision of any kind made yet. So when Shawn showed up Saturday morning to take the kids for the weekend, I was in a mood more foul than any man should have to withstand.
“Back by five tomorrow?” I snapped from the front door. The kids hustled to his car, probably anxious to get away from Grumpy Mom. Shawn spun around on the front porch and eyed me warily.
“Everything okay, Lily?”
Oh, now that was brave. A mistake, but brave nonetheless for such a spineless little man.
“Oh, just great, thanks for asking.” I smiled an overly sweet smile, the kind so sweet it makes you queasy. The pressure was building and I felt like it just might take me with it when it exploded. Then, like a demon possessed, I spewed forth questions, the ones I’d never asked in the two years we’d been apart. “Did you ever love me? Or were we more like a pair of ratty old slippers, comfortable and easy? Did you just keep me around until you found a brand-new shiny pair? Or did I do something to stop you from loving me?”
Shawn staggered back a step, surprised as I was by the twenty questions. Apparently, the explosion I feared looked a lot like verbal diarrhea once it spewed. We’d never really fought when we split, he just quietly gathered his things and moved out. Thoughts and feelings were never really discussed.
He glanced over his shoulder quickly, seeing the kids safely inside his car. “What’s this about?” His gaze met mine and he looked properly cautious.
I slumped against the doorway, tired now that the questions were out there, hovering in the space between us. “I don’t know. I just—I’m trying to understand.”
Shawn stepped closer, his body rigid and prepared for flight. “You were never a pair of slippers. But I do think loving each other became habit, something we did because it was the natural progression of our dating. I just got to a point where I didn’t think that was enough to keep us together. We both deserved to be passion
ately in love with someone else. That was the main thing. There was no passion between us. I still love you, Lily. Like I love my sister, or my best friend.” I cringed, but he kept going. “I deserve more. You deserve more. You’re a beautiful woman and will make someone ecstatically happy one day. It’s just not me.”
As harsh as that was to hear, the words rang true. Like everything in me resonated with what he said, accepted it as true, recognized it as my own truth too. I wondered why I still harbored feelings of not being enough, like our split was proof of it. That just wasn’t true and I was finally able to receive the message. Ultimately, I was happy he’d had the insight and courage to end things when he did.
A rush of affection for this man, the one I should have only been friends with, flooded through my body, causing tears to blur my vision. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.
“Thank you. You’re so right,” I whispered.
He hugged me back for a moment and then we broke apart awkwardly.
He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Gotta get going.”
I nodded, stepping back. “See you tomorrow.”
As he walked back to his car, I felt completely different than I had this morning. Or all week. Like that simple conversation with my ex had locked something into place. In the back of my mind, I’d always wondered if I just wasn’t good enough to love. If maybe I just wasn’t enough, period.
Our breakup hadn’t been about me at all. It was about both of us equally. About two people not being right for each other. About two people being given a chance at love again. About two people being courageous and brave and daring.
Shawn, in his own way, had already done that. It may have taken me two years to get my head screwed on straight, but I was ready now. I was ready to be brave. To take a chance on love. To lay it all on the line and open my heart up to something wild and crazy and wonderful.
Something that looked a lot like Jameson.
“I’m running out of material, woman! Get your flirt on, would ya?” Gabby answered the phone without even a hello, just getting right down to business.
“I’m kind of done with that now, Gabs.” I paced my living room, staring out into my backyard, my brain whirling.
“What do you mean ‘done’? Did you finally give up on the list? What happened?” Gabby’s voice turned soft, taking off her reporter hat and putting on her bestie hat instead.
“Nothing happened. Well, that’s not accurate. Everything happened. I just talked to Shawn.” I rubbed my forehead. This wasn’t coming out right.
“Oh, no, honey. Don’t listen to that man. He’s never understood you.”
“No, no. It was a really good conversation. We never loved each other, you know? I mean, we did and we still do, but not in the way a husband and wife should. We were an old pair of slippers and I want glittery ruby red slippers.”
“Okaaaayyy.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know I’m not making sense, but everything makes total sense in my head finally. I loved the idea of being with Shawn. Being together forever, building a home, having kids. It was everything I always wanted. Except I did it with the wrong man. He did me a favor by leaving. He gave me a chance to actually have everything I’ve ever wanted with the right man.”
“Now you’re making sense. That’s essentially what I was asking you last weekend. Why are you so certain that Jameson can’t possibly love you?” Gabby’s voice came out fast, almost like she had the phone pressed to her face in her excitement.
I flopped onto the couch, too flabbergasted to keep my legs under me. “Oh my God, Gabriella.”
“Right?”
“How could I be such an idiot?”
Gabby laughed softly. “Honey, you’re not an idiot. You’re just too busy watching your Disney movies to understand a fundamental truth about yourself.”
My stomach started fluttering, not nauseous like I’d been all week, but excited. Like I had everything to look forward to again. “I didn’t believe Jameson loved me because I thought I was unlovable. I believed that because Shawn never loved me like that, no other man could either. I’m not some beautiful princess in a fairy tale. I’m just a mom with stretch marks and cellulite and worries keeping me up at night, trying to find happiness like everybody else. But, Gabby, I’m not unlovable at all. I’m quite fucking lovable. I’m the most lovable love thing that’s ever been loved. I just hadn’t found the right man yet.”
“Yes,” Gabby whispered, then louder, “Yes!” Then much calmer, “Wait, you said that past tense. Does that mean you’ve found the right man now?”
The fluttering gained force, blowing off the dust from my heart, making it beat wildly, passionately. “I’m not entirely sure. Maybe. Possibly. I’ll never find out for sure if I don’t take a chance. He said he loves me. He’s seen me in my ugly mom bra, juggling my kids, stressed about work, stumbling around trying to catch a man with my ridiculous list. If he can love me like that, he must truly love all of me, right?”
“So, are you going to wait for him to sweep you off your feet?” Gabby, the holder of my secrets for my whole life, knew me like no one else. Knew my dreams of Prince Charming coming for me. But that dream just felt old and stiff, like a shirt worn and washed too many times over the years. It was time to take it off for good. Time to find a new shirt.
“Nah, that’s for fairy tales. I’m gonna go sweep him off his feet and see what happens.” I fiddled with my sweater, nerves and excitement mixing together and bringing back every drop of energy I’d lacked all week.
“Want to help me come up with a plan?” I needed reinforcements. I couldn’t afford for this to turn out like my attempts at finding a man, ending in embarrassment.
“Oh Lordy, don’t tell me we’re gonna make another list,” Gabby grumbled.
I burst out laughing. “No! No more lists, no more ridiculous ways to meet men. I’ve met him already. I need a plan to make sure he knows how serious I am about us. I’ve ignored the man for a week and a half after he poured his heart out. I gotta make this good, so good he’ll forgive me and give me another chance.”
“Okay, let’s think about this. He’s a scientist, so we need to approach this practically.”
“I could buy him another one of his precious sweaters.”
“No, that’s not enough. Not a big enough statement.” Gabby hummed while she thought.
I snapped my fingers. “I got it! I’ll write an essay on love. Every scientific fact about it, where it comes from, how we feel it, how one feels it in the body. Like proving love exists and I know that’s what I feel about him.”
Gabby snorted. “That’s the weirdest way I’ve ever heard to woo a guy, but considering your particular man, I get it. Probably wouldn’t hurt, but maybe just explaining everything to him would be good too. Tell him how you feel and why you ran away.”
I gulped. “Yeah, honesty is probably the best policy.”
I just had to quit being a chicken.
A car door slamming had me jumping up and running to the front window. Jameson’s ex was back, parked at the curb and leaning against the car while she waited for Stein.
I kept snooping like the crazy neighbor I was and saw Stein, loaded with a stuffed backpack, give Jameson a big hug by their front door. Stein got a big smile on his face and then fist-pumped his dad. Jameson watched them leave before spinning around and going back in his house.
I had to hurry. A whole day without either of our kids meant I needed to write that essay right now and find the courage to face him no later than this afternoon. This conversation required privacy and the time was now. As single parents, we had a small window of childless time. I’d better use it to my fullest advantage.
Fingers trembling and heart pounding, I sat at my breakfast table with my laptop and pounded out an essay to win back my chance at love.
18
Jameson
I took deep breaths to keep from puking right on my new dress shoes, the brown oxfords that com
plemented my new charcoal gray suit perfectly. My grand gesture was underway, no chance to turn back now, and I was straight terrified. Rejection was a distinct possibility. Humiliation would be its close cousin.
All week I’d been making phone calls and setting things in motion, all with the idea of sweeping Lily-Marie off her feet just like she’d dreamed of since she was a little girl watching a Disney princess movie for the first time. For a guy who wasn’t so great with his words, I’d had frank conversations with more people than I ever cared to do again. But nothing was too much for the woman I loved. Even my own possible humiliation.
Staring at my washed-out complexion in the mirror, I heard a car outside. It was showtime.
“Here goes everything,” I muttered, resisting the urge to tug at my hair. I’d just gotten it to lie down flat, I couldn’t be messing it up now. If all went right, I hoped Lily-Marie would be the one to mess it up.
I ran to the front door, stopping to grab my phone and wallet. A black limousine sat idling at the curb in front of Lily-Marie’s exactly as I’d asked them to do. A black-suited driver stood by the back door and if his posture and purposeful stare out into nothing was any indication, he’d been military at some point. I stopped on my front porch to shoot a text to Gabby, one of my accomplices to this grand gesture.
Me: Limo is here. Hopefully, she’ll be at the store in twenty minutes or so. You good to go?
Gabby: Hell yes! Let’s Cinderella this girl.
Chuckling at her enthusiasm, I jogged out to meet the driver. Gabby had assured me many times this week that Lily-Marie would participate and appreciate my plans. I hoped to God she was right.
“Hey, man, thanks for being on time. I’ll be right back with your passenger. Remember, this is all a surprise, so please don’t tell her anything no matter how many questions she asks, okay?”
