by Tara Brent
“Any-who, let’s not talk about things that ruin my appetite,” Grandma says, waving her hand. “Instead, let’s get you boys washed up and ready for dinner. Are you hungry, Dusty?”
Dustin drops his toy car and spins around, nodding enthusiastically. I chuckle as the two of them head into the bathroom to get his hands washed.
"So," Grandma says, spinning her fork in her spaghetti noodles. "Have you talked to Amber since you've been back?" Her tone is conspiratorial like she's fishing for gossip but she doesn't want to come off that way.
“I ran into her at the grocery store earlier, actually.”
“Ah,” she says, nodding. There’s a slight tug at one corner of her lips, and she meets my eyes. “I think you should reconnect with her.”
“Why’s that?” I can already tell where this conversation is heading, but I don’t have the heart to cut it short.
“I just think it would do you both good. I remember Rhett, Amber and you were inseparable, when you were growing up. I miss those days.”
“Me too.” I hate the hollowness in my chest that I feel when I say this.
"Well, then you should fix that! You both aren't getting any younger, and if you ask me, she seems a lot lonelier these days." She seems to enjoy the way I stare at her, waiting for her to elaborate because she leaves the conversation hanging in the air dramatically. Finally, she says, "We talked about dating, and whether she's been seeing guys."
There’s a flash of jealousy that strikes me, like lightning, down to my toes. “Is she dating other guys?” I try to keep my voice neutral.
Grandma shrugs nonchalantly. “She’s looking. If you were smart, you’d swoop in and pick her up.”
The idea seems ridiculous, especially given our history, but something about knowing her dating other guys makes me jealous. For years, I managed to keep from thinking about Amber, but after only a few days of being around her again, she’s already clouding my mind. Things never change, it seems.
After dinner, I pick up all the dishes and take them to the sink, scrubbing the food and rinsing them to set in the rack Grandma keeps beside the faucet. As I clean, my thoughts return to Amber once again. Is she really going out with other guys? How’s that treating her? And why do I care so much? Am I jealous that she’s moved on? I don’t really have much of a right to do that. Not with Dustin giggling in the living room, proof I moved on from her while in Arkansas.
Maybe I should take Grandma’s advice. After I dry my hands off, I glance at the pictures on the wall. The way we looked carefree, young and without a worry in the world. It’s criminal how quickly these moments fade as we grow older. I can’t help but stare at Amber, with those pink round cheeks and that same smile on her face.
I can’t. But I want to.
I take a slow breath and head back into the living room to be with Dustin. Above anything else, he’s more important. My focus should be on him, and not who Amber’s dating or whether I want to be that person.
Chapter 5: Amber
The following week, the entire shop is busier than usual. I'm not sure whether it's because love is in the air or what, but I've learned not to question when business is booming. Instead, I take joy in the fact that we're busy. There are times when Rosie doubts the success of Angel's Bouquets, and moments like these always end up reassuring her.
When we finally get a break, she leans against the counter and types on her phone, giggling to herself every now and then. I narrow my eyes, suddenly suspicious. I know that giggle. The only time she does it is when she’s feeling giddy and flirty.
Casually, I try to steal a peek at her phone, but Rosie is smarter than me. She pulls it away and grins like a child caught doing something she shouldn't be.
“Who're you talking to, Miss Thing?” I ask, not beating around the bush.
Rosie shrugs, and with laid back affection, says, “It’s nobody. Just this guy.”
“Just this guy, huh?” From the way she was just laughing, it sounds like he might be more than ‘just this guy.’
I pull my apron over my head and take a slow sip of my coffee, eyes still aimed at Rosie. She instantly returns to her text conversation, humming to herself. I recognize the pop song. It's all about falling in love with a new guy.
“Okay, spill the tea, bitch. Who are you really talking to? You don't get like this when you're talking to other guys.”
A blush creeps over Rosie's porcelain skin, and she holds back another girlish giggle. “Okay, fine! It's not just ‘this guy.’ His name is Peter, and I met him on Tinder.”
My jaw drops. “Shut up!”
“I'm serious! I don't know why I felt inclined to try Tinder again, but something just told me, ‘Rose, you've gotta give these guys a second chance. You'll never find love if you don't put yourself out there.’”
“And you put yourself out there and look what happened!” I can't even try to contain my excitement for her. I pull Rosie into a hug, practically jumping up and down.
The thing with Rosie is that she's even pickier with guys than I am. Sure, I have a lot of rules, like no smokers, no guys that don't tip servers, no guys that have guns in their profile pictures, yadda yadda. But Rosie is in a league of her own.
She doesn't entertain guys that have serious exes in their lives because she thinks they'll pose a problem down the road. She doesn't think guys who have bushy beards can be trusted, and if her dog Joey doesn't like you? Good luck convincing her that you're not a serial killer using dating apps to find your next victim.
I've lightly reminded her that no guy is perfect, and the fact she's given apps a chance and is exploring her options again makes me incredibly happy for her.
“You have to tell me everything about him,” I say, leaning forward with anticipation.
“Well...” Rosie takes a moment to work it all out in her head before she continues. “I met him last weekend when we matched. He's super handsome, he works as a manager for a bank, and he's never been married. Doesn't have any kids that he has to support, plus he loves all the same shows that I love. It's basically a match made in Heaven.”
“It sounds like it! When are you guys going to meet up?”
Rosie shrugs. “Dunno. I'm not even sure if we ever will.”
“Um, what?” I know Rosie can be scared of meeting new people, but this is just ridiculous. From the sound of it, this Peter stranger sounds like he’s the full package for her. He likes everything she does and he meets her strict criteria. Doesn't she understand how hard it is for a man to accomplish one of those things, let alone both?
“I don’t know,” she whines. “I'm just scared that if we meet in person, we'll end up not having that much chemistry, and I'll have gotten my hopes up for nothing. It's complicated.”
I see where she's coming from, but I refuse to let her back down. “No way,” I say, shaking my head. “You've gotta go out with him and give him a chance. He could very easily be even more charming in person.”
Rosie looks bashful, so she lifts her head and looks me in the eyes. “What about you? You said Grace told you to get back on that horse. Any luck in your neck of the woods?”
I let out a dramatic sigh. “Hardly,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I tried, but there's this... this block in the way.”
“What kind of block?”
“A block named Logan.”
Rosie freezes. “Logan as in...”
“As in my Logan, yeah.”
After that night, I never told a soul about what happened. It was our little secret, one I was too ashamed to even consider telling anyone else But I've always thought about, what it would have felt like to go all the way; to make love to Logan and have him inside of me. Finally, after a night of drinks with Rosie, I broke down and told her what nearly happened. She didn't judge me like I thought she would. She understood my anguish, and she assured me that Rhett wouldn't be upset. It's not like we had sex or anything!
Of course, I didn't believe her one bit, but hearing it from someone
else made me stop hating myself so much.
“So, what are you gonna do? Have you talked to him?”
I catch Rosie up on everything that we said to each other. She's amused at me putting together a makeshift arrangement for him, too.
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you're kind of glad you ran into him at the store. The way you just told that story, your eyes lit up when you were talking about him.”
I scoff. “No, they didn't. Shut up.”
“I'm serious! You started the story off annoyed that you ran into him, and by the end, you had this smile on your face. See! There it is again!”
I groan and turn my head so she can't see my reaction.
“What are you scared of?” she asks, her hands on her hips. “You guys clearly have some kind of chemistry; otherwise you wouldn't have hooked up. So, what's stopping you from rekindling that flame?”
“Um... the fact he left town without a word? That he almost slept with me and then disappeared?”
Rosie shrugs. “From the tone of your voice, it doesn't really sound like you're over him. You still have all that passion inside.”
“Oh, my gosh, shut up,” I laugh.
“How about this? The only way I'm going on a date with Peter is if you go on one with Logan. Do we have a deal?”
“Rosie, come on!” I start; “He was buying flowers for a girl! He has a girlfriend!”
She holds up a hand, cutting me off. "No ifs, ands, or buts. I'm only going out if you do. Take it or leave it. You have to find a date, just like I did!”
I hate when she does this to me. It always puts me in a bad position. If I say no, Rosie isn't going to take that leap back into the dating pool. If I say yes, I'm forced to spend even more time on stupid dating Apps!
I cross my arms across my chest and sigh. “Fine.”
Rosie squeaks with excitement as she hugs me. She rocks me side to side. “I can’t believe we're both gonna be dating soon.”
I hold back the realistic, sometimes pessimistic, side of myself. I doubt I will find anyone interesting, but I will look, if it leads to Rosie finding happiness with Peter. It would all be worth it in the end.
*
After work, I stopped by Grace's, just to see if she needs anything. There's an unfamiliar car in the parking lot, but I head up the steps, anyway. There's a moment of silence after I knock, then Logan answers the door.
That explains the car.
“Amber. Hi,” he says, surprised to see me.
“I hope I'm not interrupting anything. I came by to see if Grace is okay or if she needed something.”
“What I need,” Grace says, nudging Logan out of the way, “is to say thank you for the flowers. Logan told me he got them for me, but I knew he doesn't have the eye for that kind of thing. That was your work.”
I blush and shrug. “Guilty.”
“They were beautiful, so thank you,” she says, hugging me quickly. “Do you want to come inside?”
“No, I don't want to interrupt. You guys look...”
That's when I see him. A little boy, no older than four or five years old, running in the living room. I draw in a quick breath, short and sharp.
I always assumed that Logan moved on, but this is... There are no words to describe seeing his son. There is only the dull throb of sadness in my chest that I've managed to keep hidden for the past five years.’
Logan looks back at the living room, and when he turns around, he has a knowing expression on his face.
“Actually, Grandma, do you mind if I talk to Amber alone?”
Grace's eyebrows go up, and she gives me a devilish smile. “Not at all. I'll be in the living room if you need me.”
Logan steps outside and closes the door softly. In a low voice, I say,
“You didn't tell me you have a son.”
“I know. When I saw you at the store, I was just so overwhelmed. Stressed about the move, about getting business taken care of, and finding the perfect flowers.”
I shrug, shaking my head. "It's not really my business, anyway."
I want to be mad, but the truth is, Logan is his own man. He's an adult, same as me, and he's allowed to run off to sleep with other women if he wants. Rationalizing this doesn't make it hurt any less, but I know it's unfair to have expectations of him.
“If you want, you can meet him. His name's Dustin. I feel you two would get along really well. He's a sweetheart like you.”
I'll have whiplash by the end of the conversation, I know it. One moment, I'm mournfully remembering the past, and the next, my heart flutters at Logan's compliment.
“I don't know,” I mumble. “I have to get home and start dinner soon.”
He nods and says, “Yeah, no problem. Maybe some other time?”
“Sure.” I put on an upbeat smile.
"Well, let me walk you home, in that case,” Logan says it completely seriously, and I can't help but laugh. The walk back to my home only takes thirty seconds, but true to his word, Logan follows me up to my front door.
“And they say chivalry is dead,” I tease, searching for my keys in my purse.
“It's not dead,” he says, “Most men just weren’t raised by a grandma, like I was.”
“She would probably pop you on the butt if you didn't walk me home.”
“She would. But I also just wanted to spend a little more time with you even if it is only thirty seconds.”
“Yeah?” My heart shudders and struggles to beat normally. I know he means nothing by it, but the possibility of him still being interested makes me light up.
“Yeah,” he says. “I missed you when I was gone.”
A sad smile spreads across my face before I can stop it. “I missed you too.”
There's a long silence between us, where both of us stand staring at the other. I wonder if he knows that my longing was for more than just his friendship. I wonder if he feels as guilty as I did for betraying my brother's wishes.
I want to ask him, but instead, for some reason, I pull away. “I should get going.”
“Of Course,” he says, clearing his throat. “It was nice seeing you again, Amber.”
"You too," I say, barely above a whisper. It takes everything I have to break eye contact with Logan and unlock my front door. I close it behind me, and then slumped against it.
I thought having Logan back would be good. We might be able to repair our friendship and go back to the old ways. Now, with so much change between us, I'm not sure if that'll ever be possible.
Chapter 6: Logan
I can't remember the last time I've felt this uneasy around a woman. I watch as Amber heads inside, and a large part of me wants to call her name and stop her in her tracks. I want to keep her from getting away even though she has every right to.
Admitting guilt has always been something I've struggled with. I don't like conceding that I've messed up or done something wrong, and I haven't since I was a kid. I remember constant fights with Rhett, going back and forth how he was the one that screwed up, not me.
It’s a nasty habit I picked up from my parents, neither of whom would admit that their busy work schedule left me to my own devices and built a gap between us that no amount of material things or gifts could fix.
I know I fucked up things with Amber.
There's not a doubt in my mind. I can't weasel my way out of guilt or convince myself, that an outside force was to blame. I was scared and alone, just like her. The only difference is that Amber didn't run away. She stayed in town, worked through the pain, and kept on living.
Me? I buried my sorrows in booze and women until finally settling down with Jessica. And look where that got me.
I'm going to change. I'm going to prove myself to Amber, to show her that I'm still here for her. She isn't alone in this world. I don't know how, or when, but I plan on showing her that I'm not some child scared of tough times, or that I always run from problems with my tail tucked between my leg
s.
I head back to Grandma's house with determination in my chest.
*
The work week moves like molasses, slow and heavy. My lawyers, Alison and Dennis, inform me that Sarah no longer plans on suing, and everything else has been cleared up. That's a great load off my back because the last thing I need to worry about is more lawyers and meetings with (rightfully) disgruntled workers.
Brent pokes his head into my office at three on the following Friday with a toothy grin on his face. When he shows up like that, I know he has good news.
“What's up, B?” I ask, putting down my pen and leaning back in my chair.
“I just got off the phone with The Florist, and the lady working there confirmed that the bouquet you ordered has been delivered to Amber’s shop. The delivery guy was a little confused that he delivered flowers to a flower store,” Brent says with a laugh.
I can't help but chuckle at the thought of the look on the delivery man's face. “Perfect. What about the reservation for tomorrow night?”
“Ready to go,” he says, looking at the tablet in his hand. “Eight o'clock on the dot. Formal wear only. Oh, and I had them set aside a bottle of their most expensive wine for you two.”
“I don’t know what I would do without you, Brent.”
“You’d be late to everything,” he says, smirking.
“Very true, very true.”
I decide to call it a day earlier and I head out to my car in the parking lot. There's a bit of pep in my step, mostly because I've figured out the first step of asking Amber to forgive me.
I have to take Grandma's advice. She said Amber is lonely and looking for a man, and if what I felt seeing her again in the grocery store is any indication, she still cares for me the way I care for her. If I can show her I'm serious, I can prove that I'm worth another chance.
*
I pull up outside of Angel’s Bouquets and stride through after I park. Amber and her friend Rosie look up at me at the same time, and I smile, hoping she’s happy to see me. A look of surprise crosses her face, and Rosie quickly excuses herself, hurrying away to the back.
