Waiting For Ethan

by Diane Barnes

  “She’s not that bad.” Not as bad as when I thought she was his girlfriend.

  “She is. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

  I don’t want to wait for some unnamed time that may never come. “How about tomorrow night?” The question pours out of my mouth so fast that it sounds like one long, unintelligible word.

  Cooper uses his spoon to push around the ice cream in his dish. “Are you asking me on a date?”

  I’ve started down this path, and I’m taking it to the end. “Yes, I am.” Somehow I don’t sound scared.

  He puts his spoon down and turns to face me. I realize I’m kicking the leg of the picnic table and stop my foot from swaying. I look up at him. He reaches toward my face and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. Then, right there at a picnic table at the Westham Creamery, before our first date even, Cooper Allen kisses me. This time I’m sure this kiss is my last first kiss. As it goes on, the future flashes through my mind: Cooper meeting my parents, Cooper down on one knee, Cooper and me standing by an altar, me holding a baby with Cooper looking over my shoulder. It’s a future I’ve never been more certain of.

  Chapter 41

  Peter pulls Luci’s nameplate out of the slot on our door, hands it to her, and slides in her new one: Luci Corrigan. Luci snaps the old one in half and gives the pieces back to Peter. “It’s a bloody shame what happened to that Luci Chin lassie,” she says in an Irish brogue. “May the new Mrs. Chin fare better.” Peter laughs, pulls her toward him with one arm, and kisses the top of her head.

  Unlike Cooper and me, they don’t care if everyone at TechVisions knows they’re dating. They commute together and eat lunch in the café at a table for two tucked away in the corner. It’s hard not to notice them, because their laughter echoes around the room. With Luci’s influence, Peter has swapped out his burgers and fries for salads. He’s lost about forty pounds. He’s dressing better these days, too, well-fitting Dockers and golf shirts instead of baggy jeans and T-shirts. Peter’s been a good influence on Luci, as well. She is less bitter about Kip and is even thinking about sending his newborn an outfit.

  As Luci walks back into our office, she looks at me. “Soon we’ll be replacing your nameplate with one that says Gina Allen.” She winks. I pick up a pen and practice signing “Gina Allen” on a scrap piece of paper. I’ve never been good at cursive Ls. I might have to work on that, because things are going extremely well with Cooper. We’ve been dating for just over a month now. Last night he asked if he could meet my parents. Who asks for that? When I called my mother this morning to tell her Cooper wanted to meet her, she was thrilled and invited us to dinner tonight. She’s going to have to wait, though, because Cooper, Neesha, Ashley, Luci, Peter, and I are going to Last Chance. Neesha really wants to do karaoke, so Luci and I are going to sing Jayda’s favorite song, “Call Me Maybe,” with her. We actually spent the last week practicing. It didn’t help. Luci is tone-deaf and loud, and Neesha can’t sing a verse without laughing.

  There is only one empty table when Luci, Peter, and I arrive at Last Chance. It’s in the back right corner as far away from the makeshift stage as possible. I race across the floor and fling myself into a chair, narrowly beating out a group of women who were heading to the same spot. The smallest of the ladies stands beside me with her hands on her hips, glaring down at me. “Sorry,” I say just as Luci and Peter arrive and slide into the seats across from me.

  “What are you apologizing for?” Luci asks. She smiles at the woman. “You were just a step too slow.” She shrugs and waves her hand like she’s shooing away a fly.

  The waitress with the mole on her face approaches our table. Luci asks for a chocolate martini. There is no way I’m drinking those again. Instead, I get coconut rum and pineapple juice. Peter orders a beer for himself and one for Cooper, who is stuck at work on a conference call with a client on the West Coast.

  A man carrying a piece of paper heads to the stage and picks up the microphone. “Listen up. We have a bunch of people who want to do karaoke tonight, so if you want to perform, make sure your name is on this list.”

  I get up and make my way across the sticky floor to add our names to the list. There are at least twenty people in front of us.

  A few minutes later, Neesha enters the room with Ashley trailing behind, holding his phone. He sits and places it in the center of the table. “Jayda insists I record this. Don’t let me forget.”

  The man on the stage calls out the name Kathy. A skinny brunette wearing a short sequin dress takes the stage. She sits on a stool, and the piano intro of Adele’s “Someone Like You” begins to play.

  Kathy begins to sing. Her voice screeches. Peter holds his hands to his ears. “Make it stop,” he says. Three excruciating minutes later, Kathy is done. The crowd gives a mock cheer.

  Next up is a group of young women celebrating an upcoming wedding. The tallest of the five is wearing a white veil. As they choose their song, the waitress drops off our drinks. They settle on Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats.” They laugh as they sing, but hearing the bride-to-be sing that song depresses me.

  Cooper arrives as the fifth group exits the stage. He sits next to me and kisses me hello. Then he extends his hand to Ashley, who is sitting next to him. “Cooper Allen.” He nods at Neesha. “Nice to see you again.”

  The next group of singers hits the stage and consults the playbook.

  “How did your call go?” I ask Cooper.

  He picks up his beer. “Not good. I overestimated iPad sales and had to explain why.” He takes a large swallow.

  “How many did you predict would sell?” Luci asks.

  Cooper grimaces at her word choice. “I forecast sales of sixty-one million.” He emphasizes the word forecast.

  “How many actually sold?” Ashley asks.

  “Just over fifty-eight million.”

  “Damn, you were close,” Peter says, saluting Cooper with his beer mug.

  The music starts. “I’m a Believer.”

  “Clients don’t pay me to be close,” Cooper says. “They pay me to be right.”

  We are all silent as we listen to the group singing. They sound more like The Monkees than Smash Mouth.

  “Hey,” Neesha says, reaching behind Ashley to touch Cooper on the back. “My grandmother made the most accurate predictions of anyone I’ve ever known, and even she got it wrong sometimes.”

  Luci nods. “And it’s a good thing she was wrong sometimes, or Gina wouldn’t be sitting with you right now.”

  Cooper gets that squinty look. “What do you mean?”

  “Never mind,” I say.

  Luci, of course, won’t let it go. She tells Cooper about Ajee’s prediction that I would marry a man named Ethan.

  Cooper lets out a slow breath and very quietly says, “My name was supposed to be Ethan.”

  “It wasn’t.” But even as the words are coming out of my mouth, I know he’s telling the truth.

  He takes my hand and squeezes it. “Swear to God. I was named after a friend of my father’s who passed away right before I was born. Ethan Cooper. My dad even wrote Ethan on the birth certificate, but when my mom saw Ethan Allen written down, she changed her mind. She said she didn’t want her son being named after a historical figure and a furniture store.”

  The entire room goes silent. Maybe it’s just our table. I’m not sure. Luci and Neesha stare at me. I shift my body and pick up my drink.

  Ashley’s phone rings then. A picture of Ajee appears on the screen. It’s the exact same picture as the one from the obituary. I look at it and then look up at Ashley. “Jayda has Ajee’s old phone. Like an eight-year-old needs a phone.” He shrugs. “Hey, Jayda,” he says into the phone. “No, no, they haven’t gone yet. They’re still waiting.”

  But he’s wrong. My wait is over. This was the final sign from Ajee. I know it. Cooper is Ethan, she is saying. You have waited long enough.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a pers
on or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  LYRICAL SHINE BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2015 by Diane Barnes

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  Lyrical Shine and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.

  First Electronic Edition: September 2015

  ISBN: 978-1-6165-0788-6

  ISBN-13: 978-1-61650-789-3

  ISBN-10: 1-61650-789-6