He luckily lets it go and moves on. “I can’t really say that I know her that well. She’s Harper’s teacher, but it’s not like I go there and hang out. I know she and Christine are pretty close, though.”
“Yeah, I figured as such when I saw them sitting together at the game a few weeks ago.”
“Ohhhh, that’s what the look was for.”
“Look?”
“The look. Yeah. When you found out that Christine was going to be here for Thanksgiving. You were hoping to get the deets on Carly.”
“Do you hear yourself?”
“Well, yeah. The words come out of my mouth, and I sound different in my own head than out loud. But, of course I hear myself.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “That’s not… Never mind. But deets? Really?”
He shrugs his shoulders and grins, unashamed.
“Anyway, I think they’ve been good for each other, both being single moms to teenagers, you know?”
“I bet.”
“And I was thinking… since you didn’t bring it up at Thanksgiving, go to the coffee shop and talk to Christine about her?” he hedges.
“No way.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not about to go around snooping and gossiping about Carly. I want to get to know her. From her. Not from someone she’s confided in. Not cool, man. This isn’t high school,” I tease him.
“That’s how we did it in my day.” He laughs.
“We didn’t all fall ass-over-elbow in love when we were seventeen, either.”
“True. Not everyone can be as awesome as us,” he said with a straight face.
“You’re such a tool.”
“But you kinda love me.”
“Whatever, weirdo.”
“So, what was the look, then?”
“Nothing. I wanted to talk to her about the restaurant. Since it’s next door to Dreamin’ Beans.”
“Makes sense. Let’s finish up this wood-chopping so we can go inside.”
“I think Tess has soup in the Crock-Pot for us.”
“What kind?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not even a little bit.” I smile.
Ten minutes later, we walk inside covered in sawdust, arms full of wood. We drop the sticks in the metal firewood rack and make our way into the kitchen where Tess is grabbing some soup bowls from the cupboard.
Barrett walks up to her and nuzzles into her neck and gives her a kiss below her ear. “Hey, babe.”
I smile at their easy love. They’ve had their bumps in the road, sure, but who doesn’t. And they’ve always made their way back to who they are, together.
“Hey, there. Get it all cut?”
“Yup. Your man lumberjacked all over it.”
She giggles at him and lifts up on her toes and places a kiss on his lips, her hand resting the side of his face. “Thanks, stud.”
He smiles cheekily at me, and I roll my eyes in return.
“Where is everyone?” It’s never quiet in the Ryan’s home. Never.
“Lily and Harper are still shopping. Maggie went with Grady and Bri to a movie. I have a feeling that Jack is going to just so happen to be seeing the same movie.”
I laugh.
Barrett growls.
“Cole is over at Brandon’s with Mia.”
“So… it’s just the three of us?” I ask, suddenly feeling like the third wheel.
“Yup, thanks for hanging out, dude. We wouldn’t know what to do with our alone time,” Barrett teased.
“Yeah, I’m taking this downstairs. You guys enjoy your quiet while you can,” I say to them, grabbing my food and making my way to the basement.
“I was just joking, man. You know that.”
“I do. I also don’t want to have to bleach my eyes later tonight. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
“We won’t!” Barrett hollers, and I hear a smack, and Tess squeals his name.
“Gross!” I holler back.
His cackling follows me all the way down the stairs.
I settle in on the couch and turn on Netflix. As much as the crazy, shameless shenanigans of the Gallaghers are keeping my attention, my mind keeps drifting over to Carly. I press pause on the episode and pick up my phone. Knowing, or assuming, that she is home alone tonight, I take a chance and settle on sending her a friendly text, when what I really want to do is rush over to her house and take her in my arms, bend her over backward and kiss the crap out of her. But that’s a little too friendly, now, isn’t it?
Me: Hey there.
That seems innocent enough, right?
I watch with bated breath as those three little bubbles pop up then disappear, only to repeat the action a few more times.
Finally, my phone buzzes with an incoming text.
Carly: Hey.
I chuckle that it took her that long to return the one simple word to me. I also quickly change the simple name of Carly that she had put in before I return the text.
Me: What you up to?
Beautiful: Relaxing, watching some TV.
Me: Oh yeah? Me too. What are you watching?
Beautiful: It’s embarrassing.
Me: Why? Is it dirrrrttty?
I type, hoping that she’ll catch on to my teasing. I follow with a couple winky-face emojis.
Beautiful: Not really but…
Me: But? Just tell me. I’ll tell you what I’m watching if you tell me.
Beautiful: What are we, five?
Me: That’s beta rice.
Beautiful: ???? ha ha what!?
Me: Beta rice? WTH! I swear Tess’s autocorrects are like a virus. I meant negative! That’s a negative that we’re five.
Beautiful: How in the world did it turn negative into beta rice?
Me: I have no clue. So… whatcha watchin’?
Beautiful: Ugh. Don’t judge me, okay?
Me: Never.
Beautiful: Shameless. **insert monkey covering eyes emoji**
There’s no way she’s watching this show. What are the odds?
Me: No way.
Beautiful: You said you wouldn’t judge me!
Me: I’m not! I promise! That’s what I’m watching, too!
Beautiful: Nuh-uh.
Me: Oh yeah. The Gallaghers have sucked me into their crazy world and I can’t seem to stop.
Beautiful: Right? It’s like a bad car wreck! I can’t look away!
Me: Exactly!
I sit and watch a drunken Frank do something to screw over his family once again, only to say something that makes me burst out laughing.
Me: So what episode are you on?
Beautiful: I’m in season 4, episode 2.
Me: Oooh you’re just a few behind me.
Beautiful: No spoilers!
I smirk at how serious she is. This show is so addicting it’s ridiculous. For about two seconds, I consider my next words then decide to hell with it and go for it.
Me: I wouldn’t dream of it. But you know…
Beautiful: I know what?
Me: If two friends wanted to watch it together, we wouldn’t have to worry about giving each other spoilers.
Beautiful: And we’d have someone to chat about it with. Clearly I can’t watch this with Jack.
Me: That’s a beta rice. ;)
Beautiful: Ha ha ha ha! Oh my gosh! LOL
I smile just picturing how she giggles. I’ve already learned she has several different laughs: one when she’s embarrassed (which I hear quite often); one when she’s nervous (which she also does a lot around me); one when she’s happy, one when she thinks something is funny. Her happy laugh? That’s my favorite. It’s when she has let her guard down completely, like she started to do last night. She throws her head back and her deep brown eyes crinkle in the corners.
My knee bobs up and down several times, wondering what she’s thinking. She did follow up with her own benefit to watching it together, but it may be her making small talk, I suppose.
After a few
minutes of waiting and no other response, I decide to bite the bullet.
Me: So, what do you say? Want to watch Shameless together?
Beautiful: I don’t know
I like that, an honest answer. But what I like even better is that it’s not a no.
Me: How about this. You get caught up to the same episode I’m on and if you want to watch the next episode after that with me, you let me know?
There. Ball is in her court.
I watch as the three bubbles pop up and go away again. I’m likely to blow my knee out with as much bouncing as it’s doing.
Finally, she responds.
Beautiful: That sounds perfect.
I don’t know exactly what she’s saying sounds perfect — watching together or her letting me know — but either way, it’s communication, and I can definitely live with that.
Me: Have a good night, Beautiful Carly.
Beautiful: You too, Captain.
I’m not even ashamed to say that I throw a fist in the air.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Carly
Thanksgiving has come and gone, and we are just two days away from Christmas break. The kids are basically one step from acting like they’re hopped up on some of Christine’s chocolate-covered espresso beans, so every night when I get home from school, I’m beyond exhausted. Between trying to keep their attention on curriculum and not on their Christmas lists to Santa, making sure they’re all bundled up before recess then helping them get out of their snow gear after recess, handing out Kleenex for all the snotty noses and squirting Germ-X on their hands like my life depended on it, I am so wiped out that I pretty much collapse the moment I get home from school or the gym at night.
But one bright spot to my day? One moment where I feel the exhaustion fade and my heart to race? Is when I receive a text from James. Every day he texts me something that puts a smile on my face. Whether it’s a simple “How was your day?” to an e-card he thought was funny that I just had to see. Several times he calls before bed. We’ll talk for hours about everything and nothing. We’ve also seen each other a few times, though I’m beginning to feel not nearly as often as I’d like. Once when James asked Jack and me to eat at a restaurant a few towns over, another when he stopped in with pizza and a plan to watch Food Network with Jack. He even came over to help me hang Christmas lights.
Of course, that evening I was a total wreck, fumbling over my words and feet all night, overwhelmed by his kindness and selfless generosity. Jack and James built their own sort of bond already. With the football season in his rearview mirror, proudly claiming their Runner-up-at-State status, he has been shifting his focus. Whenever he has a free moment, he’s been spending time at Balance with James, helping him clean up, researching appliances, going over menu items. James has made Jack feel like he’s a part of the restaurant, and the simple knowledge of my son having someone in his life who is willing to support and encourage him is unnerving. So, when he showed up to hang out for the night, he and Jack slipped beautifully into their already-established relationship. I, on the other hand, nearly face-planted when I tripped over the coffee table, only to be caught around the waist by James. The nearness of him combined with the smell of his body wash made my head dizzier than it was in the first place.
Every day he breaks down another section of wall that I’ve built around myself, but I’m not going to let him break it down completely. Getting burned in the love department once is enough for a lifetime, and I have no intention of going back there. But the friendship is nice. More than nice, if I have to admit it. In the end, though, that’s all it can ever be. Friendship with the super-hot-uncle-of-the-year, who raised his daughter on his own, loves his family more than himself, is willing to help Jack in discovering his dream, makes me laugh — and did I mention how hot he is? Friendship. Yup. That’s what I chant to myself several times a day.
He’s been staying at Tess and Barrett’s until he gets his place set up, which is actually going to be the apartment above the restaurant. It wasn’t what he originally planned, but it turns out it’s a nice space, or so he and Jack told me. At this point, I don’t think he’ll be allowed to move out of the Ryan’s house any time soon. Harper tells me a story every day that includes the wonderful Uncle James, and today is no different.
Harper runs into the classroom, then hugs me around the legs and tugs on my hand so I give my full attention to her.
“Miss Hanson, you should have eaten supper at our house last night! Uncle James made us really yummy mac and cheese — and his doesn’t come in that box — and real fried chicken! Oh, and collars that were green!”
I’m not sure what all the real food means, but I assume it was made from scratch.
“Green collars?” I smile.
“Uh huh! And they looked gross, but they were really really good because they had bacon in them.”
“That sounds delicious! Did you help with any of it?”
She nods her head emphatically. “I did! I put the gross chicken in the flour stuff for him and made sure it was coated. That’s what he called it. And I helped get the big hunk of cheese into tiny pieces then he had me stir the cheese into the noodles.”
“Sounds like you were a big help!”
“I was. Uncle James told me I was the best little helper in the kitchen ever. Wait. Didn’t Jack tell you what he ate last night? He helped too, but I think I was a bigger helper than he was.”
“Well, Jack did tell me James was teaching him how to make a few things in the kitchen and told me what you made, but he didn’t tell me what a big help you were!”
“That’s probably because he felt bad that I was a bigger helper than he was, you know, since he’s bigger than me.”
“I bet that was it.” I nod, trying to hold back my laughter.
“You should come have supper with us some time!”
“Maybe.”
I learned a long time ago that I should never commit fully to anything my students ask of me. If I don’t follow through, which in this case I won’t be, I am always on their pint-sized poop list for as long as it takes them to get over it. Which usually isn’t very long, considering a six and seven-year-old’s attention span is pretty darn short.
Jack and I have finished eating supper, and he’s now locked up in his bedroom, doing homework and who knows what else, probably talking to Maggie in whatever way teenagers do. He seems to be getting closer to Maggie every day, but just like James and me, they’re just friends. Although, I don’t see it sticking to just friendship with them. Even Grady seems to be softening to the idea of his little sister dating.
After my shower, I change into some soft gray lounge pants and a lavender long-sleeve Henley. I brush out my wet hair but leave it down to dry. Sometimes I feel blessed for my naturally pin-straight hair, but having a little bit of curl would be nice. When I don’t feel like taking the time to do much with it, like right now, I feel very fortunate for it.
I’m settled in on my favorite oversized chair with a glass of wine and my Kindle, already getting lost in the story of a tattoo artist and reality TV show producer that I can’t seem to put down, when my phone beside me alerts me with a text. I smile and reach over for it, already knowing who it’s going to be. I wasn’t ready to actually watch our episodes of Shameless together, but we do talk on the phone or text while we watch it. I feel like I’m a teenager again, and soon I hope I’m ready to actually watch the episodes together.
Captain James: Incoming
First of all, don’t judge me on my name for him in my phone. If he ever sees it, I’ll surely die of embarrassment, but I can’t help myself.
Second, what the heck does incoming mean? Unfortunately, I don’t have to wonder for long because I hear a knock on my front door.
The smile that I had plastered on my face from seeing his name light up my screen? Gone. Replaced with my smile? Pure panic. I’m literally just in pants and a shirt. Meaning, no bra. I quickly look around the house for something to throw
over my shirt and find a long black lightweight cardigan that I had worn to work today. But that only takes care of one problem. I’m standing in my living room, not a drop of makeup, hair still damp from my shower, and… giant, neon-pink, fuzzy slippers on my feet.
I hear another knock on the door followed by James’s deep voice. “Carly?! Beautiful. Remember?”
How he knows I’m standing here fidgeting and worried about how I look is a wonder, but I’m finding that somehow James knows me almost better than I know myself.
I blow out a breath and hold my head up high, hoping it will give me some inner-strength, and open the door. James stands before me in pair of black joggers, a dark hoodie, and his signature baseball cap. He shouldn’t look hot. He does.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says when he sees me, a smile lighting up his face.
“Hi. What are you doing here? I thought we were going to watch Shameless in a few days?” We had a few dates watching it over the phone but never together in person. Two nights ago, in a moment of pure courage, I asked him to come over to binge watch some episodes together, but I needed the time before I was actually ready.
“I’m not allowed to stop over?” He pouts.
“Oh stop.” I reach out to nudge him in the shoulder, and he fake-stumbles back, giving me a wide-eyed look that makes me laugh.
He smiles and steps closer. “Jack. He called me today. Wondered if I could stop by. He had some things he wanted to talk to me about.”
I falter and look at him, confusion coursing through me. “He did?”
“You didn’t know I was coming over?”
“No, obviously.” I gesture to my clothes then flip the ends of my damp hair with one of my hands.
“Still doesn’t change it.”
“Change what?”
“How beautiful you are.”
“James…”
He lifts his hands up. “Hey, friends can tell friends they’re beautiful, right?”
A Better Place Page 9
