by Amy Brent
Ana had become her own fashion designer.
How had I not known this about her? How had I not seen her blatant passion and desire for fashion? It wasn’t as if she had opened up to me all those years ago about what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. Maybe she had been self-conscious about it or thought I would make fun of her or something?
I shook the thoughts from my head as I ran my hand over the tag of a pair of stretchy jeans.
“Ana P.,” I said to myself.
“She’s the designer.”
I panned my eyes to the young, cheery woman behind the cash register.
“And the owner of this place. And the CEO. She sort of does everything. She’s my idol.”
“These are beautiful clothes,” I said.
“Oh, they really are. I’m wearing one of her dresses right now. She made it especially for me since my bottom half is so—” She held her hands out and blew a raspberry into the air, and I chuckled.
“Is she in here often?” I said.
“Actually, no. I mean, she comes in during the week at random times to check up on things and do inventory, but she isn’t here for regular hours during the day. And she’s never in on the weekends.”
“I figured the owner of a shop as prestigious as this one would be in more often,” I said.
“Well, her best friend manages it, so I think they sort of tag team. Her name’s Kristi. She’s coming into the shop in a few minutes. Want to stick around for her?”
“That’s fine. I really do need to speak with Ana, though. I’m a lawyer, and I’ve got some things I need to discuss with her.”
“Oh my gosh. Is everything okay? Is there something I can do to help her out?”
“You want to help out your boss with legal matters?” I asked.
“She helped me during a really bad time in my life. If she’s going through one, I’d really like to help if I can.”
The picture she was painting of Ana was exactly the picture I had conjured in my mind for the past eight years. Beautiful. Caring. Selfless. All traits she’d had in high school that had drawn me to her in the first place.
My heart slammed against my chest as I walked over to the cash register. I didn’t need to be throwing my weight around as a lawyer, but if it got me closer to Ana, then I would do anything necessary.
Anything to sit down and talk with her.
“Do you know how I might be able to reach her?” I asked.
“She lets us all have her business cell in case of emergencies, and I think this constitutes as one. Here, let me write it down.”
“Her business cell?”
“She has a cell phone for personal calls and one that’s strictly for the shop. That’s the one we all call her on if we need her to come in or have a question or something.”
So that was how she kept tabs on things without having regular hours. Smart.
Then again, Ana had always been smart.
The girl behind the counter passed me a card with a number written on it. I thanked her for her time before walking out. Just as I got into my car, Kristi walked up the sidewalk. I quickly pulled out of my parking space and made my way to the nearest lot, knowing I didn’t have much time before the cashier would spill everything to her. That would ultimately lead to a phone call to Ana, and I wanted to get her on the phone before any of that happened.
I typed in the number as quickly as I could and listened as the ringing of the phone filled my car.
“Everything okay, Shelby?”
“So that’s the cashier’s name. She never introduced herself,” I said, grinning.
The phone call went silent, and I watched my dash. The seconds continued to tick by, which meant she hadn’t hung up the call. Better than I figured I would encounter.
“Can we talk, Ana?”
“Kristi is beeping in. Hold on,” she said.
“Don’t worry. She’s calling to tell you a lawyer came in asking for your information.”
“She’s what?”
“It was the only way I knew to get your contact information.”
“You couldn’t have simply asked?”
“Would you have given it to me?”
“No.”
“Then you see why I did what I did,” I said.
“What do you want, Tyler? I’ll have to change my number after this phone call, by the way.”
“I want to sit down and talk with you. Maybe over dinner?”
“No,” she said flatly.
“It’s on me. Nothing special. Is that taco place still open?”
“You're not taking me to the place where you asked me to be your girlfriend in high school.”
I grinned. “So you do remember.”
“What do you want to talk about that can’t be talked about now?”
“I figure eight years gives us a lot to talk about.”
“I’m not sitting down to a dinner my ex pays for and catching up with him as if nothing has happened.”
“Then sit down with your ex and let’s talk about how we left things so we can both get closure.”
“I don’t need closure.”
“I know you need closure,” I said.
“Eight years changes a lot. I coped and I moved on. Are you telling me you haven’t?”
“No, I haven’t.”
She went silent again as I folded my arms across my chest. I didn’t even bother looking down at the timing of the phone call. I knew I already had Ana’s interest piqued. I drew in a deep breath and waited for her to gather her thoughts, waited for her to respond. I’d never been dishonest with her in high school and I wasn’t going to start doing that now.
She’d been the only person other than Brandon I had felt I could expose myself to, and that hadn’t changed.
“I have to work Saturday, and possibly Sunday depending on how the summertime rush does at the store today.”
“You’ve got summertime rush down to one day?” I asked.
“I don’t act like I know how your business works, so don’t patronize mine.”
“I wasn’t patronizing your work, simply asking a question about it.”
“No, you were mocking what I said. Because like you think you know me, I know you.”
“You think you know me.”
“Stop it, Tyler.”
“Stop what?” I asked.
“The bantering. It’s old and worn out.”
“And yet you’ve had two chances to hang up on me and you haven’t.”
The call shut down. A beeping filled my car and I chuckled as I shook my head. Oh, Ana had always been spicy. It was nice to see that hadn’t changed. I reached over and pressed the call button twice, redialing her number.
The phone didn’t even ring in my car before her voice filled it.
“What?” she asked.
“Cute. Really cute, Ana.”
“I wasn’t going for cute, but okay.”
“You never go for cute, but you always are.”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Complimenting me and making me feel like it’s high school all over again,” she said.
“So you do still think about high school.”
“I think about the time you told me you were glad to go off to Harvard and get away from me, yes.”
Her words slapped me across the face and I closed my eyes. It physically stung to hear that drip from her lips. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t feel like shit for that argument. For not running after her or jumping into my car and racing down the road until she pulled over and stopped.
“I should’ve gone after you, Ana. I’m—”
“Save your apologies. It was eight years ago. But my answer still stands. I’m not having dinner with you.”
“What if I don’t pay?” I asked.
“I’m still not having dinner with you.”
“You can choose where we go. Any restaurant or fast food place in the city. Or outside the city.”
“No, Tyler.”
“Then I’ll take you out and you still get to choose where we go. Price tag isn’t a factor.”
“Are you throwing money at me to get me to go out with you?”
“Is it working?” I asked.
“No.”
“Then what will work, Ana? Because I can tell you right now, I won’t stop calling and I won’t stop coming by your shop. You can change your number overnight, but I don’t think you can change your storefront overnight.”
“I’ll call the police, tell them I have a stalker.”
“Then I’ll have Brandon come by.”
“And I’ll sic them on him as well,” she said.
“Tell me what it’ll take to get you out to dinner with me Monday night. I’ll do anything, Ana.”
There was a beat of silence before I heard her draw in a sharp breath.
“Anything?” she asked.
“Anything,” I said.
“Fine. Then this is how it’s going to go. We’re going to meet at Providence at six o’clock Monday night for dinner. You’re not picking me up; nor are you taking me home. You’re going to dress in something nice and so am I. You’re going to pay, you’re going to compliment me on how I look, and then you’re going to sit there while I hash out everything I was feeling and experiencing the day we fought before graduation. All of it. And you won’t interject and you won’t interrupt and you won’t have an opinion about it. You'll hear it, you’ll digest it, and then we will eat in silence.”
“Silence,” I said.
“Yes, silence. You won’t give a rebuttal and you won’t get a chance to argue about it. Because you don’t get to break my heart and then tell me how I’m going to feel about it.”
The moment she said “break,” her voice matched her word. Hearing that falter punched me in the gut. She was still hurting, still aching from a fight eight years ago. And truth be told, so was I. The situation wasn’t ideal, and what she was asking was far less than what I had hoped for a dinner date. But, it got her out with me, which meant there was a possibility things could change once we were alone face to face.
Providence was a premier restaurant with a romantic feel to it. Anything could happen in a place like that.
“Okay. I agree to your terms,” I said.
“See you at six on Monday at Providence.”
“You can order whatever you want.”
“Trust me, I intend to.”
Then she hung up the phone.
Ana
“Brody! Catch!”
“Got it, Papa!”
My son ran after a football my father had thrown his way while Mom and I sat on their porch. We sipped on some limeade she had in the refrigerator as the sun beat down on all of us. My sunglasses were making my face sweat, but shielding my eyes was more important. I looked over at my mother’s glistening forehead and giggled as she ran her cool glass over her face
“Thank god I decided to go without makeup today,” she said.
“And you still look fabulous,” I said.
“Damn right I do.”
“Thank you again for watching Brody Thursday night.”
“You know we watch him every night around that time so you and Kristi can go celebrate your success. I hate that you didn’t stay out later, though. I figured that girl would keep you out until at least midnight.”
“Sometimes having a girls’ night in is just as nice as a girls’ night out. And speaking of, we need to go get pedicures soon.”
“Like today? It’s hot as hell and your father looks like he’s got Brody entertained for now,” she said.
“Papa! You gotta catch it!” Brody exclaimed.
My father bent down to pick up the football before his eyes met mine. I smiled and waved at him before he launched the ball, sending it flying through the air and straight into the arms of my son. Brody did have his father’s athletic capabilities, and the more I watched him, the more I was reminded of the real reason we had come over for the day.
To ask my parents to watch him Monday night.
I wasn’t sure if I should tell them about Tyler, though. I danced between telling them that Kristi wanted another night with me since our last one had flopped and telling them I had a date but not mentioning who.
I knew if I told them about Tyler and that he was back in town for good, they would side with Kristi. My father more so than anyone else. He had made it very clear to me on several occasions that if I ever got the chance to introduce Brody to Tyler, I should do it. My mother was a little more on the fence with things but still didn’t agree with my never telling Tyler about his son.
At the very least, she thought Tyler deserved to know.
I wasn’t ready to hear more people side with Tyler instead of me.
“He’s getting so big. He’s going to be a monstrous child,” my mother said.
“I feel like every time he wakes up, he’s a little bigger.”
“Whenever he’s with me, everyone is shocked that he’s only eight. A lot of people think the kid is ten, eleven years old!”
“Dad tells me the same thing. And Brody got that all the time as a baby. Even when he was two, other kids would come up and talk to him, then get upset when he didn’t talk back. I had to explain to them that he was only two and didn’t know how to talk in full sentences, and the parents were always stunned when I said that.”
“Because he’s huge. Like his father.”
I winced at her words and was thankful for the sunglasses covering my face.
“Dad! Watch out!”
The football knocked him straight in his chest, and he bent over, gasping for breath. I set my drink down and went running out to him as Brody jogged up. I rubbed my father’s back, and a massive smile crossed his face. Brody dropped to his knees to get up underneath his grandfather’s face.
“You okay, Papa?”
“Yeah, son. I’m fine. You’ve really got an arm on you. Ever thought about playing baseball?” he asked.
“No. I like football better,” Brody said.
“Dad, you okay?” I asked.
“Quit babyin’ the man! He’s good,” my mother called out.
“Just because you’re too lazy to come check on your husband doesn't mean I won’t!” I called back.
“It’s too hot to be doing all this running around. Who’s ready for food?” my mother asked.
“Me!” Brody exclaimed.
“You’re always ready for food,” I said, grinning.
“That’s because he’s a growing boy.” My father stood upright. “Isn’t that right, Brody?”
“Yep. I’m going to grow big and strong like Papa one day.”
“You’re already big and strong like Papa,” I said as I winked at my father.
“You got that right. Come on, let’s go see what Grammie’s whipping up for lunch,” he said.
Everyone shuffled into the house and we all sighed at the air conditioning. I told Brody to go upstairs to wash his hands and clean himself up a bit. He had some spare outfits in the dresser in his room, and he needed to change before he sat down at the table to eat. He ran upstairs and my eyes followed him, clocking the fact that his legs looked a little longer than they had a few days ago.
If that boy didn’t stop growing, I’d go bankrupt trying to clothe him.
“Is he taller?” my mother asked.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” my father said.
“I think he is. Which means more clothes,” I said.
“It seems like all that boy does is grow,” my mother said.
“You need us to get this round of clothes?” my father asked.
“No, Daddy, but thank you. I’ve got it, I promise,” I said.
“Well, you know if you need help, we’re always here,” he said.
“In that case, would it be possible for you guys to watch Brody tomorrow night?” I asked.
“Sure. Your father’s got a poker game with the guys, but I’ll b
e here. We can have a movie night,” my mother said.
“What’s the occasion? Kristi trying to get you out again?” Dad asked.
“Actually, no. I have a date.”
Their jaws dropped in unison before my mother stepped up to the plate.
“You have a date? Who? What’s his name? What’s he look like?”
“Calm down, Susan. You’re going to scare our daughter away,” my father said.
“Shut up, Ron. Does he have a job? What does he do for work? Has he already met Brody? Don’t tell me he’s already met my grandson.”
I threw my head back and laughed at my mother. She really was a spitfire when she wanted to be.
“Just a guy I met when I was out with Kristi. It’s nothing special or phenomenal. I’m meeting him at six for dinner tomorrow night and I figured I would see where it goes. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date—”
“It’s been over eight years since you’ve been on a date. This is a big deal,” my father said.
“But I don’t want to make it a big deal. I haven’t told Brody about it. All he knows is that I’m taking some time for myself tomorrow night, but that it would all hinge on whether or not he could come over and stay with you guys,” I said.
“So we don’t even get a name?” my mother asked.
“If things go well, I’ll give you a name. But right now it’s just dinner. We’re meeting up, eating, and fighting over the check. That’s it.”
“But you know his name, right? Tell me you know something about him.”
“Susan, our daughter is fine. She doesn't need our help in the dating world. She’s young, beautiful. She’s getting back out there. Stop prying for details and let her do this how she wants to do it.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“But our code still stands, okay? You remember it from high school?” he asked.
“I do. You’ll call an hour into the date—which will be seven o’clock, if you need to write it down—”
“Ha, ha. Nice old man joke,” my father said mockingly.
