by Aven Ellis
“Will there be waffles made in some tricked-out waffle maker?” Brody asks, his eyes sparkling at me.
Brody doesn’t have to know I have two waffle makers. One is for regular-shaped waffles.
The other is heart-shaped.
And there’s no doubt which one I’ll be using later this morning.
Chapter Thirty-One
“I promise you this will be an unforgettable brunch,” I say as I lead Brody by the hand to my apartment door. We’ve finished our baseball lesson in the park, and now I’m making us a huge brunch before he heads out to the ballpark for his game tonight.
Brody moves behind me, wrapping his tattooed forearms around my waist. He lightly kisses the side of my neck, which makes my knees go weak. “Are the waffles going to be zoo-animal shaped?”
I laugh as I put the key in the lock. “No, not zoo-animal shaped.”
Heart-shaped for all the sappy feelings I have for you, I think.
Brody heaves a pretend sigh. “That’s so disappointing. Soul crushing, actually.”
I wiggle around so I’m facing him. “What if I told you the waffles had Fruit Loops or Fruity Pebbles in them? Your choice?” I say, lowering my voice as I pretend to be seductive with waffles.
Brody cocks an eyebrow. “You’re toying with me.”
“No,” I say, playing with a button on his red and blue flannel shirt, “I’m not.”
“My God, you know how to turn a man on.”
I begin to laugh, and Brody does, too. I push open the door and freeze.
The dining room is filled with all the shit that was in my bedroom.
I gasp aloud, staring at my huge collection of appliances and gadgets and accessories I had to have, ones I had been purchasing since high school and most I can’t even remember. Boxes fill up the tiny space, and humiliation washes over me as I stare at them.
“Your mom had these sent over today,” Katie says, coming out of the kitchen, which she can barely do since the boxes stop less than a foot from the entry to it. “I texted you about fifteen minutes ago. You just missed the delivery guys.”
Mom had warned me to come get these or she would send them over. Apparently, she meant it this time.
“Hayley, are these all yours?” Brody asks, his voice etched with surprise.
I turn around and face him, embarrassment engulfing me.
“Yes,” I admit.
I watch as his blue eyes move over the piles, his face one of astonishment.
“Do you even know what you have?” Brody asks, picking up a box and studying it.
Panic starts to swell in me. I told him I was weird and liked gadgets but seeing all this is a shock to me, and I’m the one who bought them.
I can’t imagine what Brody must be thinking.
“I’ve been saving them for my own space for years, so I can’t say I remember everything,” I admit, my face turning red.
Brody turns to me with a box in his hand. “Do you really need a specialized peanut butter and jelly spreader?” he asks, his raspy voice taking on a questioning tone. “Can’t you just use a knife you already have in the drawer?”
My stomach sinks. Not only is the minimalist in him repulsed by my collection of appliances and tools, he thinks I’ve wasted money with things I don’t need.
“It seemed like a logical thing to own when I bought it,” I murmur, shame filling me.
Brody sets the box aside and, to my horror, begins reading some more of them.
“A s’mores maker. A butter cutter. Grilled cheese maker. A dumpling press,” Brody stops and turns his attention to me. “Hayley, what are you doing with all these gadgets? Do you really need all these things?”
I feel like I’m being judged. Before I can stop myself, I lash back.
“I told you I was into gadgets, Brody,” I say, my voice taking on an edge. “I like having things that perfect my time in the kitchen. I’m sorry if you’re disgusted by it.”
Brody’s eyes widen in shock, and an awkward silence fills the air.
“Um, I’m going to have some coffee with Barbara,” Katie says, grabbing her keys and phone off the kitchen countertop. “I’ll see you later, Brody.”
Then she disappears, leaving me and Brody alone.
“Hayley, there’s no need to be defensive,” Brody says calmly.
“I’m not being defensive!” I snap, knowing damn well I am.
Brody simply stares at me. “Hayley. I don’t care what you buy. I like that you are intrigued with gadgets; I’m just questioning your reason for buying all of them, that’s all.”
“You obviously have a problem with it or you wouldn’t bring it up. I’m not a minimalist like you.”
“I didn’t say you had to be.”
“Aren’t you implying it?”
“No, but I’m questioning why you feel this need to do everything perfectly. Who cares if you have the perfect grilled cheese sandwich? Who even notices that?”
I take a step back from him. “I do. People notice when you do things well. When you have perfected something. They notice when you do something helpful, like bring them a perfect sandwich in a short amount of time. They do, so don’t say people don’t notice.”
Brody is staring at me, and irritation grows within me. I know I’m right. This is the one thing Brody is wrong about.
“I’m not picking a fight with you. I just think you might be buying all these things so you feel perfect enough for people to notice, but you don’t need them, Hayley. You don’t.”
“Will you stop? I like gadgets and appliances. That’s it! You are not a psychologist, so quit acting like one,” I say angrily.
I turn away from him, half out of anger, half out of fearing he might be seeing things in me I’ve never faced before.
Which is scary.
It makes me feel vulnerable, both for realizing I need to address some deep-rooted issues in myself, but for another reason, too.
As Brody pulls back these layers around me, he might not like what he sees.
Suddenly, I feel his hands on my waist, and he lowers his head next to mine.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I wasn’t trying to upset you. That’s the last thing I want to do, but I say these things because I care, Hayley. I care more than you can even imagine.”
I swallow hard and turn around. I see the worried expression in his eyes, and I push down the frozen lump in my throat.
I put my hands on his chest. “I’m sorry. I know this is weird, Brody. This is your first glimpse into it, and I don’t want to scare you away,” I admit, my voice thick.
“Baby, there’s no peanut butter and jelly knife that is going to scare me away from you,” Brody says, sliding his hands up to my face. “I was just thinking there might be more to this than owning fun gadgets.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“I will always tell you what I’m thinking, just like you do to me,” Brody says, caressing my face in a soothing way, “but remember I’m with you, not against you.”
This is what it’s like to have a partner, I realize. Someone who can see the flaws and still stand with you. Who cares enough to speak the truth.
I’ve fallen more for him in this moment because of it.
“I’m going to think about what you’ve said,” I admit softly. “Maybe it’s time to pare down my collection.”
Brody places a gentle kiss upon my lips. “Don’t do anything right away, just think about what I said about trying to be perfect, because you don’t need to be. With that said, don’t you dare get rid of that waffle maker, because I need Fruit Loop waffles.”
I laugh, and he does, too.
“Speaking of Fruit Loop waffles, I believe I owe my man some,” I say, smiling up at him.
Brody’s face lights up. “My man. I like the sound of that.”
“Good, because I like saying it,” I say, kissing him again.
I lose myself in his arms, kissing him sweetly, cherishing the fact that Brody is mine.
***
“What are you getting?” Addison asks, studying the options on the side of the vegetarian food truck as we wait in line.
Addison has talked up how this is her favorite food truck in DC, and while I know it will help me continue my weight loss, I really wish I could have a grilled cheese today.
“I’m not sure,” I say, pondering my choices.
A lot of which include kale and beets.
I loathe kale and beets. I know a lot of people love them, and they have tremendous nutritional value, but personally, I think they taste like dirt. Gross.
“I can’t resist the quinoa bowl,” Addison says. “It has massaged kale and beets. So delicious!”
It’s all I can do not to laugh. Of course, it has kale and beets. Everything on this truck has kale and beets.
I snap a pic of my options on the chalkboard menu and text it to Brody. He’s in Dallas, finishing up the world’s longest road trip, and I think he’ll get a kick out of my commentary.
I attach this message to the picture:
SEND HELP everything has kale and beets.
Then I hit send.
I narrow down my lunch options to a soba noodle bowl over greens—not kale—or eggplant parmesan with cashew cheese.
As we head toward the back of the line to place our order, Brody texts me back:
You need eggs. This was breakfast.
He attaches a picture of his breakfast, and I practically start drooling. There’s fluffy scrambled eggs, thick pieces of wheat toast, a bowl of strawberries, oatmeal, and a latte with leaf art on the top.
Jealousy consumes me as I stare at his food. I text him back:
This food porn you sent is killing me.
I hit send.
“What did you decide on?” Addison asks.
“Soba noodle bowl.”
Brody texts me back:
I’ll make you eggs and toast when I get home. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.
No, it can’t. Brody has been gone for nine days now. Of course, we text every day, and FaceTime at night, and I feel like our relationship has continued to grow even with him traveling. We make time for each other and talk for an hour each night about our days, our friends, or what we saw on Instagram that day. Our conversations are just like they are when he’s here, and that’s important to both of us.
With that said, I’m more than ready to be in his arms again.
“You’ll have to let me know how that is,” Addison says. “I get so into my routine. I like a dish, so I always get it so I’m never disappointed. I play it too safe. I don’t take chances, in a lot of ways.”
I catch the distant look in her eye. I’ve known her for almost a month now, working together on the gala stuff, and we have lunch a couple of times a week in addition to catching drinks after work one night. I feel like I can follow up on that comment now.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask.
Addison sighs. “Can I confide something in you? It’s work-related, so you can say no if it makes you uncomfortable.”
The fact that she asked about my feelings first before telling me says everything.
“You can tell me, and I won’t say anything,” I reassure her. “You’re speaking to me as a friend, not a coworker.”
Beep!
I know Brody has sent me another text, but it’ll have to wait. Right now, my friend gets my full attention.
“I know I’m lucky to have my job,” Addison says slowly, brushing back a piece of her copper-red hair that is blown back by the breeze, “but I found another opportunity that fits me better. It’s with an animal protection group, an entry-level position as an assistant to the manager of member communications.”
“Addison, that’s perfect for you,” I say, thinking of how much she wants to work for an animal organization. “Did you apply?”
“No,” Addison says as we move up in the long line. “I don’t feel like I can.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t feel it’s right to leave Expanded World so soon, if I were to be offered a position,” Addison says. “I feel guilty even thinking about applying. What would that say about me as a person? If I took a job and only two months later bailed on it? That’s not right. It’s not fair to Mariah. She has just got me to the part where I’m self-sufficient in the office. I can’t do that.”
“Is this what you mean not taking chances?” I ask quietly.
Addison nods. “I don’t feel it’s right taking a chance on applying for this new job because even if I were to get it, I can’t take it.”
I think on one of the lessons in my workbook, about recognizing opportunities and being brave enough to take them, and I decide to share some of that insight with Addison.
“Addison,” I say, “I agree the timing is bad. Nobody wants to leave a job they just started if they like who they work for, but you know how rarely these opportunities come along. If this is your dream, you owe it to yourself to be brave enough to explore it. You can’t worry about doing the society deemed right thing, but the right thing for you.”
“What if I get the job and it’s awful? And I regret leaving Mariah?” Addison asks.
“What if you get the job and it’s exactly what your heart hoped it would be?”
“But it’s not right, Hayley.”
“What’s not right is letting a dream slip through your fingers,” I insist. “Sometimes life presents you with exactly what you need at a time you think is completely wrong. It can turn out to be the best thing that could happen to you if you let it.”
Addison exhales. “You’re right. I need to think about it that way.”
“You do, and you need to apply,” I encourage. “Believe me, while Mariah would hate to lose you, she would also understand, if it came down to that.”
“I would hate to stop working with you,” Addison admits.
I grin. “You won’t get rid of me. I’m in love with Willy the ferret now; I’m sticking around for playdates.”
Addison laughs. I met Willy last week when I went over to her apartment to hang out and eat dinner, and Willy was the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. I sent Brody a video of Willy running around, but of course, he told me later on FaceTime that Pissy was way cuter than a ferret.
That cranky kitten has him wrapped around her paw for sure.
“Thank you for helping me sort this out,” Addison says.
“Of course,” I say. “That’s what friends do. So, give me all the details about this position.”
She excitedly tells me more about the job as we wait in line, and I see her demeanor change as she speaks about the opportunity. Addison has to go for this job. She’s excited and passionate about it. I know it’s what she needs to do, to take this chance and see where she ends up, which could be the exact place she’s meant to be.
Finally, we place our orders, and as we wait for them, I retrieve my phone and check out the last text from Brody:
Check out my Instagram post.
I eagerly flip over to my home screen and tap my Instagram icon. Then I go to Brody’s post and my heart leaps the second I see it. It’s a selfie we took after his game last Saturday night, with him cradling me to his chest. I read his caption:
One more night until I see my girl again is one night too many #misshersomuch #cantwaittobebackinDC
I get emotional as I read his public display of affection. Brody is a man who rarely posted on Instagram before, but now he’s sharing his feelings for me for the entire world to see. While he keeps a lot of things private, and he doesn’t like to spend his time in the virtual world, Brody knows I enjoy it and he posts these things just for me.
I think back to the advice I just gave Addison. I took a chance on Brody. On dating, in general, but also on being with someone who is a professional athlete with a very different lifestyle than mine. On someone who, on paper, I would
have rejected.
I didn’t play it safe, I think, smiling at the image of Brody holding me.
As a result of taking that chance, I’m falling in love with a man I can see forever with.
And all I hope is that Brody is falling in love with me, too.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The Ultimate Modern Girl’s Guide to Self-Motivation, Zen, and Being the Absolute Best You Now!
Today’s Question: How do you define happiness?
“I never know what color to get,” Katie says, studying the shelf of nail polishes at the salon.
It’s Saturday afternoon, and we’re spending the day together doing our favorite things: manis and pedis, lunch, and a little shopping on King Street in Old Town Alexandria. Since I’m going to the gallery opening for the Jeremy Woodland exhibit on Monday, I wanted to get my nails done. Miracle upon miracles, Brody is off that day and is going to go with me.
I scan over the bottles of OPI, picturing my outfit in my head, a gorgeous navy and cream floral dress. I find the perfect shade: Russian Navy.
“This matches my dress,” I say, picking up the bottle and showing it to Katie. “It’s going to look so good!”
“For fingers or toes?” Katie asks as she continues to study shades.
“For my toes. I’m wearing those strappy navy heels with it. For my fingers, I’ll do Bubble Bath,” I say, removing that bottle from the shelf as well.
“It’s going to look perfect with your dress,” Katie says, nodding. She goes back to studying shades and selects one to examine further.
“What’s that one?” I ask.
“Tiramisu for Two,” she says. “I’ll use this one for my mani. Now, to find a brighter pink for my toes.”
A few minutes later, after Katie has selected Strawberry Margarita for her toes, we’re seated in chairs side by side, soaking our feet in a mineral bath.
“So have you told Belinda you’re going to the gallery opening tomorrow?” Katie asks, leaning back in her chair.
“No. I’m going to go and write my blog post and turn it in,” I say. Then I flash Katie a wicked grin. “It’s from a staffer, that’s exactly what she wants, and if I happen to get some quotes from the artist to stick in there, oh well.”
