by Terri Osburn
“No.” He shot me a half grin. “After college I jumped around a bit, trying to find my niche. A decade later I’m ready to put down some roots.”
So he was a couple years older than I was. Not bad. With that baby face, he could also pass for much younger.
“Does Pittsburgh feel like a putting down roots kind of place?”
A bit early for me to be asking if he planned to stay in town, but I’d rather know now than after falling for him. It wasn’t that I would never consider living anywhere else, but my friends were here. Dad was here. Pittsburgh felt like home.
“I like it so far,” he said, making a left at the light. “Have you been to Scoglio in Greentree?”
A little fancier than I’d expected, but not so much that I’d feel underdressed.
“I’ve been there one time. A friend of mine is an event planner, and she checks out local restaurants to know what to recommend to clients when they have out-of-town guests or want to book a small rehearsal dinner. One of the perks of being her friend is that I get to tag along and I get a free meal out of it.”
“I haven’t been,” Ryan said, “but I asked a buddy and he said this place is nice. Especially if I want to impress a girl.” Before I could process that statement, he added, “You can go ahead and send it now if you want.”
“Send what?”
“Where we’re going.”
Was I that obvious?
“I don’t…”
“It’s okay. I have a younger sister back in Akron, and anytime she goes out with a new guy, I tell her to make sure someone knows where she is the whole time.” A Hummer pulled out in front of us, and Ryan reacted quickly without any of the road rage I was used to from Lindsey. She really did need anger management classes. “You’re on a date with a man you barely know,” he said. “I get it.”
“My friends did ask me to tell them where we were going,” I confessed.
“Just to be clear, I’m not one of those guys. You have nothing to fear from me.”
The girls might call me naive, but I absolutely believed him. That didn’t mean I couldn’t tease him a bit.
“To be fair, if you were one of those guys, isn’t that exactly what you’d say?”
His laughter was deep and rich and became my new favorite sound. “Good point.”
After waking my screen, I fired off the text. We’re going for Italian. It’s all good, ladies. Enjoy your night. Knowing what would follow, I silenced the phone and dropped it into my purse.
“So you’re looking to impress me, huh?” I asked.
Ryan kept his eyes on the road. “That’s the goal of a first date, right? To impress you enough to get a second one?”
Oh man, he was good. “I suppose so. You’re doing pretty well so far.”
Relief softened his expression, and I realized he might have been as nervous as I was. Cutting brown eyes my way, he said, “I’ll try to keep that up.”
A man willing to give some effort. What more could a girl ask for?
The restaurant sat in an odd location in the back of a corporate complex. If I hadn’t been there before, I might have worried Ryan really was taking me to some remote area to turn me into kibble. The plaza was mostly deserted, but the lot in front of the burgundy awning sporting the name Scoglio Restaurant Greentree was packed. Thankfully, we had a reservation and were seated within minutes.
The hostess let us know that Marianna, our waitress, would be with us shortly, then left us to peruse the menu.
“Since you’ve been here before, do you have any recommendations?” Ryan asked.
It’d been a couple of years and my memory of the food was dim at best. Though I did remember loving one dish in particular.
“The Chicken Picatta is really good. I think Becca enjoyed the lasagna as well.”
“Is Becca your event planner friend?”
“She is.” I reached for my water glass. “Weddings, retirements, graduations, corporate events. You name it and she plans it.”
With a head tilt, he said, “That sounds really interesting, actually.”
I didn’t want to get too deep into the occupation discussion, so I changed the subject. “You said your sister is back in Akron. Is that where you’re from?”
“Yeah, that’s where I grew up. Rachel is twenty-four and just finished her master’s in library science. You two would probably have a lot in common.”
My heart stopped. Did he know? It wasn’t as if no one on the team knew what I did for a living. Dang it, I should have thought of that. Someone must have told him. But then, was this date some elaborate gotcha moment?
“Why do you say that?”
Dark brows drew together. “Since you work in a bookstore, I just assumed you like books. Am I wrong?”
“Oh.”
Guilt made it impossible to meet his gaze. I knew enough now to feel pretty confident Ryan wouldn’t have any preconceived notions about my job, but the whole lie thing was a different story. Clearing that up sooner rather than later was probably a good idea.
“About tha—”
“Good evening,” our waitress said as she stepped up to the table. Black hair pulled back in a low bun, she smiled, her green eyes darting between me and my date. “I’m Marianna and I’ll be your server this evening. Have you dined with us before?”
“Megan has, but I haven’t,” Ryan replied.
“Well, Megan, I hope you had a positive experience with us.”
I nodded, my courage dwindling by the second. “Yes, the food was really good.”
“Great. First up, then, can I get you some wine?”
Ryan looked at me with arched brows, waiting for me to reply first. At this point, I needed a little liquid courage.
“Pinot Grigio, please.”
Marianna turned his way. “And you, sir?”
“I’ll have the same, thank you.”
“That’s easy enough.” The waitress rubbed her hands together. “Have you considered an appetizer? The stuffed banana peppers are a favorite. Or maybe a little fried calamari?”
“I was thinking about the stuffed mushroom caps,” he said. “What do you want, Megan?”
I wanted the server to go away so I that could get this over with. “Anything you order is fine.”
Tapping the list at the top of the menu, he said, “Let’s go with the mushroom caps.”
“Yes, sir.” Marianna ducked to avoid bumping a waiter who passed carrying a large tray on his shoulder. “I’ll put the order in and be right back with your wine.”
“Thank you,” said my date as I pretended to scan the menu. I was too distracted to focus on the words. I opened my mouth to try the confession again, but before I could speak, he said, “Did you grow up here in the city?”
“I was born in Uniontown, actually, but I moved here after college, and Dad moved shortly after.”
“What about your mom?”
My confession window was closing by the minute. “My mother hasn’t been in my life since I was seven.” If you didn’t count the letter in my desk, which I was still ignoring. Did a letter qualify as in my life? Not really.
Ryan leaned his elbows on the edge of the table. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”
Excellent question. “A little of both.”
“At the risk of being nosy, can I ask what happened?”
Not what I expected to talk about tonight, but maybe when I confessed to lying, he’d feel more lenient after the motherless child story.
“My parents were still teenagers when they had me. One careless night in the back seat of a Chevy led to a shotgun wedding, and I soon followed. Mom gave it seven years, but she had a wild streak and decided family life wasn’t for her. She left for California, and I haven’t seen her since.”
Narrowed eyes watched me in silence and I felt as if he could see into my soul. “You don’t feel as matter of fact about that as you sound, do you?”
I did before the stupid letter came. “That was a long time ago. Dad
gave me a great childhood. He’s the best parent a girl could ask for.”
“Not really an answer to my question.” Leaning back, Ryan said, “I have a similar story.”
He sighed and I leaned forward. “You don’t have to share just because I did.”
“I don’t mind. I was with my mom until I was around one or so, though I don’t remember her. She left me with a nun at St. Ignatius Catholic Church and said she’d be back in a couple of hours.” He paused and then shrugged. “You can guess the rest.”
Wait. What about his sister?
“Did she leave Rachel, too?”
“Rachel isn’t my blood sister. Our parents adopted me when I was three. They’d tried but couldn’t have kids. Four years later, Mom got pregnant with Rachel. She’s their miracle baby.”
What did that make him?
“Did that change how they treated you?”
“Oh, no,” he said, waving his hands. “They gave me a great life and never treated me any differently.”
I couldn’t imagine leaving a baby like that. He must have been so scared. At least I’d had Dad. I wasn’t left with strangers, which is what might have happened if she’d taken me with her.
“Do you ever wonder what happened to her?” I asked. “Your birth mother?”
“I don’t have to wonder. She found me a few years ago.”
What were the chances that he and I could have this much in common? “How did that go?” Ryan hesitated and I realized I’d asked too much. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”
With a shake of his head, he said, “It’s all right.” Rubbing a hand along his smooth jaw, his gaze locked on his water glass. “At first I wanted nothing to do with her. She left me, you know?” Did I ever. “But then I thought about how differently my life might have been if she’d kept me. She was barely sixteen when I was born. In a desperate moment she picked a safe place where she knew I’d be cared for, and I was. My parents are really good people. I can’t imagine not having them in my life. When I took all of that into consideration, forgiving her just made sense.”
I did not feel that generous toward Geraldine. She might have been young when I was born, but that had not been the case when she left. I wasn’t a baby who wouldn’t remember her. I remembered everything. And I’d blamed myself for years. She made me feel defective. Unlovable. Unwanted. There was nothing she could say that would undo all of those things.
“Do you have a relationship with her now?” I asked.
“I know where she is. I’ve met the half-siblings that she had after me, and we’ve gotten together in person a couple of times, but we don’t talk every day or anything.”
There was no way that I had half-siblings floating out there somewhere. Geraldine had made it abundantly clear that she was not cut out to be a mother.
“Have you ever heard from your mom?” Ryan asked, but the waitress returned with our wine and appetizer before I could answer.
“This is hot so be careful,” Marianna said as she lowered the plate onto the table. “Are you ready to order your entrees or do you need more time?”
I hadn’t even looked through the whole menu yet. “Could we get a couple minutes?”
“Of course. Take your time.”
Distracted, I didn’t pay much attention to the food until he said, “These are even better than I thought they’d be. You’ve got to try one.”
Mushrooms weren’t my favorite, but I didn’t mind them. Lifting one into my mouth, I chewed twice before a piece of something slid down my throat. Within seconds, my cheeks grew hot and my throat thickened. Panic setting in, I looked at what was left of the mushroom in my hand and there it was. A piece of shrimp.
“Oh no,” I mumbled, but speaking was already growing difficult.
“What is it?” Ryan said, his eyes widening. “Why are your cheeks so red? Megan?”
I dropped the food and spit what was left in my mouth onto the small plate before me. Throat quickly closing, I cleared the smaller bits out of my cheeks.
“Are you choking?” he said, rising from his chair and coming around to my side of the table.
I needed to get this out before it was too late.
Shaking my head furiously, I gripped the table. “I’m allergic to shellfish.”
Chapter Eleven
I had never been so mortified in my life.
Thankfully, I’d been able to get the auto-injector from my purse, but not before the hostess, three waiters, three fellow diners, and a busboy surrounded our table. One woman was calling out for a doctor. Another kept saying I needed the Heimlich. Ryan ignored them all, rolled back my chair, and stuck the medicine in my thigh. Now our food—which we did not have to pay for—was in to-go boxes on the back seat while we rode in silence back to my house.
“I’m really sorry,” I said for the fourth time. I’d ruined the meal, the date, and the entire night.
“Megan, seriously. You don’t need to apologize. I’m the one who ordered the mushrooms and told you to eat one.”
“I should have read the description in the menu.”
“It’s an honest mistake.” Sending me a concerned glance, he said, “Are you sure you’re okay? I can still take you to the ER.”
Wouldn’t that be a topper on the night? I would already have a hard time explaining this to the girls without adding a trip to the hospital at the end.
“A little Benadryl and I’ll be fine.” Eyes closed, a realization dawned, and I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Maybe my friends were right to worry. I did almost die on this date.”
Ryan did not see the humor. “You really scared me back there.”
I supposed not everyone was used to this sort of thing. “I’m sorry. I know it isn’t funny, but if I don’t laugh, I’ll cry, and I’m trying not to do that in front of you.”
He took my hand in his and rubbed a thumb over my knuckle. “You deserve to cry after that. I might join you.”
Genuine laughter burst from my lips, and I squeezed his fingers. “I’m still humiliated but thank you.”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Think of it this way, we’ll always have a great story to tell about our first date.”
That he called it our first date and not our only date was encouraging. He pulled the car up to the curb in front of my porch and I undid my seat belt. When he undid his, I said, “What are you doing?”
“I’m not leaving you alone,” he said before climbing out of the car.
Not that I wanted the night to end, but I was certain my lips were still swollen, and I couldn’t remember in what state I’d left the apartment. Definitely not in bring-a-man-home condition, I knew that.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said once he opened the passenger door. “I’ll be fine.”
“Megan, you could have died less than an hour ago. I’m not going to drop you off, and then leave.”
“But—”
“No buts.” He held up his right hand. “I solemnly swear that I have no ulterior motives. I’ll even stand by the door if you want, but I’m not leaving.”
Being alone right away probably wasn’t a good idea. “Okay, but I have to warn you that my apartment is a mess.”
He flashed a boy-next-door grin while the streetlights twinkled in his eyes. “Unless you’re talking hoarder level, I’m sure I can handle it.” Taking my hand, he helped me out of the car. “Are you okay to walk on your own?”
My knees were a little shaky so I took a second to steady them. Nodding, I said, “I can do it.”
“I know you’re strong, but lean on me if you need to.”
That was quite possibly the best thing a man had ever said to me. “Where did you come from?” I said, feeling as if I’d located the one living manicorn on the planet.
“Akron?” he said.
“That must be a magical place.”
“No one would ever call Akron, Ohio, magical.”
They
would if they were on this date.
I managed not to lean on him for support until we were halfway up the stairs. Turns out having your airway cut off for even a few seconds left you a little woozy. Unable to remember exactly how the apartment looked, I braced for the mess at the top of the stairs, but the place wasn’t so bad. The bedroom was worse, I knew, since I’d tossed countless outfits onto the bed, but at least out here in the little living room and kitchen area, the clutter was minimal.
True to his word, Ryan didn’t step a foot beyond the door to the apartment while I moved some mail and my laptop from the couch to the coffee table. “You can sit down,” I said as I fluffed the throw pillows. “Do you want something to drink?”
“I don’t want to be any trouble,” he said, lingering with his hands in his pockets.
For heaven’s sake. He’d just saved my life. The least I could do was give the man some water. “Don’t be silly.” I remembered that our food was still in the car. I might not feel like eating, but that didn’t mean he had to go hungry. “You need to go get the food so you can eat.”
“Are you hungry?” he asked, as if I’d given this suggestion for my own benefit.
“No, but you need to have dinner. You don’t have to starve on my account.”
Jaw set, he shook his head. “I’m not going to let you watch me eat.”
“Ryan, seriously. You were looking forward to that meal. There’s no sense in wasting it.” Holding out a hand, I added, “Give me your keys and I’ll go get it.”
Looking highly insulted, he ignored my request. “You barely made it up the stairs a minute ago. I’ll go get the food.”
I was actually feeling better already, but I didn’t argue. While he was gone, I took the allergy medicine and then brought in a plate and silverware from the kitchen. Scoglio’s food was too good to eat out of a paper box with plastic utensils. Laying out a nice setting on the coffee table, I stepped back and thought of one more finishing touch. After a quick dash back to the kitchen, which was mere feet from the sofa, I returned with a lighter in hand and lit my three-wick ocean-scented candle. As Ryan returned, I hurled the lighter onto the desk and plopped onto the couch, pretending I hadn’t been creating a subtly romantic setting.
