Lake. She calls her Lake. I might like that even more than Layken. I reach in and grab the last two sacks out of the back of her Jeep.
“Lake, huh? I like that.” I hand her the sacks and shut the back. “So, Lake,” I say, leaning against her car. I fold my arms across my chest and take a deep breath. This part is always the hardest. The “asking out” part.
“Caulder and I are going to Detroit on Friday. We’ll be gone until late Sunday, family stuff,” I say. “I was wondering if you had any plans for tomorrow night, before I go?”
She grins at me, then makes a face like she’s trying to stifle the grin. I wish she wouldn’t do that. Her smile is breathtaking.
“Are you really going to make me admit that I have absolutely no life here?” she says.
That wasn’t a no, so I take it as a yes. “Great. It’s a date then. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.” I immediately turn and head back to my house before she can object. I didn’t officially ask her out. In fact, it was more like I just told her. But . . . she sure didn’t object. That’s a good sign. That’s a really good sign.
4.
the honeymoon
LAKE PULLS HERSELF up onto her elbows and rests her chin in her hands.
“You’re really enjoying this,” I say.
She’s smiling. “I don’t think I ever told you, but when you kissed me on the forehead that day it was the best kiss I’d ever had. Up to that point, anyway,” she says, falling back against her pillow.
I lean in and replicate the forehead kiss, except this time I don’t stop there. I plant tiny pecks all the way down to the tip of her nose, then I pull back. “Mine, too,” I say, looking into the eyes that I get to wake up to every morning for the rest of my life. At the risk of sounding cheesy, I’ve got to be the luckiest man in the world.
“Now I want to know all about our date.” She puts her hands behind her head and relaxes, waiting for me to spill it.
I lie back on my pillow and think back to that day. The day that I fell for my wife.
the first date
I HAVEN’T BEEN in this good a mood in over two years. I also haven’t been this nervous about a girl in over two years. In fact, I haven’t even been on a single date in two years. A double load, a full-time job and a child really interfere with the whole dating scene.
There’s half an hour left before Caulder and I have to leave for school, so I decide to do a little cleaning since I’ll be with Lake tonight. I’m hesitant to take her to Club N9NE on our first date. Slam poetry is so much a part of me; I don’t know how I’d take it if she didn’t connect with it. Or worse, if she hated it.
Vaughn was never into it. She loved Club N9NE on any other night, just not slam night. Thursdays were usually the one night of the week we didn’t spend together. I realize this moment is the first moment Vaughn has even crossed my mind since the moment I met Lake.
“Caulder, go make sure your room’s clean. Maya’s watching you tonight,” I say as he emerges from the hallway. He rolls his eyes and backtracks into the bedroom. “Clean is it,” he mumbles.
He’s been talking backward since he met Kel a few days ago. I just ignore him half the time. It’s too much to keep up with.
I take the overloaded bag out of the kitchen trash can and begin to head outside with it, but I pause at the hallway. Something about the picture of Caulder and me with our dad in the front yard catches my eye. I take a step forward and get a closer look. I’ve never noticed it before this moment, probably because it actually has meaning now . . . but in the background right over my father’s shoulder, you can see the gnome with the red hat from across the street. The same gnome Lake fell on and broke. The gnome is staring right at the camera with a smirk on his face, almost like he’s posing.
I glance at the rest of the pictures on the wall, recalling the moments they were all captured. I used to hate looking at these pictures. I hated the way it would make me feel and how much I would miss them when I looked into their eyes. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore. Now when I look at them, I mostly recall the good memories.
Seeing their pictures brings the realization back to the forefront of my mind that Lake has no idea of the responsibilities I have in my life. I need to tell her tonight. It’s better to get it out now, that way if she can’t handle it, I won’t be too far gone. It’ll be a lot easier to be rejected by her tonight, before whatever it is I’m feeling toward her becomes even more intense.
I close the lid to the trash can and pull it to the curb. When I near the end of the driveway, I see the back door to Lake’s Jeep is open. She’s leaning all the way across the seat, searching for something. When she finds what she’s looking for, she climbs out of the backseat with a coffeepot in her hands. She’s still wearing pajamas and her hair is piled on top of her head in a knot.
“That’s not a good idea,” I say, heading across the street toward her.
She jumps when she hears my voice, then spins around to face me and grins. “What am I doing wrong this time?” She shuts the door to the Jeep and walks toward me.
I point to the coffeepot. “If you drink too much coffee this early in the morning, you’ll crash after lunch. Then you’ll be too exhausted to go out with your hot date tonight.”
She laughs. Her smile is fleeting, though. She looks down at her pajamas, then runs her hands over her hair with a slight look of panic in her eyes. She’s silently freaking out about the way she looks, so I ease her mind. “You look great,” I assure her. “Bed hair looks really good on you.”
She smiles, then leans against her car. “I know,” she says confidently, looking down at her pajamas. “This is what I’m wearing on our date tonight. You like?”
I slowly look her up and down, then shake my head no. “Not really,” I say, eyeing her boots. “I’d prefer it if you wore the house shoes.”
She laughs. “I’ll do that, then. Seven-thirty, right?”
I nod and smile back at her. We’re about four feet apart, but the way her eyes are piercing into mine makes it feel like she’s just inches away. She smiles at me with an unfamiliar sparkle in her eye. Unlike the last two days, she actually looks happy right now.
We continue to stare at each other, neither of us speaking . . . or walking away. There’s a long silence, but it’s not awkward. The way she’s watching me this time seems more confident. More at ease.
More hopeful.
I decide to give in before the awkwardness does set in, so I take a couple of steps backward toward my house. “I have to get to work,” I say. “I’ll see you tonight.”
She lifts her hand and waves good-bye before turning toward her house. Not just a normal back-and-forth wave, either. It’s a fingers up and down flirty wave.
Wow. Who knew a simple wave could be so damn hot?
“Lake?”
She glances back at me, the corners of her mouth hinting at a smile. “Yeah?”
I point to her pajamas. “I really am digging this unwashed, straight-out-of-bed look. Just make sure you brush your teeth before I pick you up tonight, because I’m gonna kiss you.” I wink at her and turn back toward my house before she can respond.
•••
“GOOD MORNING, MRS. Alex,” I say, careful not to sound too friendly. I have to watch every word that comes out of my mouth around this woman; she takes it all the wrong way. The inappropriate way. I walk past her desk and into the mailroom, then grab the contents from inside my box. When I exit the mailroom, she’s already rushing toward me.
“Did you get my note? I left you a sticky note.” She glances down at the stack of papers I’m holding.
I look at the papers in my hands and shrug. “I don’t know yet. I just checked my box five seconds ago.”
Mrs. Alex isn’t known for her kind demeanor, except toward me. Her obvious favoritism has become a running joke among the staff. A joke that I’m the butt of. She’s at least twenty years older than me, not to mention married. However, it doesn’t stop her from blata
ntly displaying her affection, which is why I only come to the mailroom once a week now.
“Well, I wrote you a message. Your faculty advisor called and needs to schedule a meeting with you.” She grabs the stack of papers out of my hands and spreads them out on her desk, looking for the note she wrote. “He said he needs to do your quarterly observation. I swear I put it right on top.”
I reach forward and swipe the contents of my mailbox back into a stack. “Thank you. I’m running late, so I’ll look through it later. I’ll let you know if I don’t find it.”
She smiles and waves good-bye as I back away from her.
Oh, shit. It was a flirty wave. I’ve got to quit coming in here.
“Have a great day,” I say, turning to leave as fast as I can. I’m relieved when the door to the administration office closes behind me. I’m really going to have to get someone else to check my mail from now on.
“You really need to stop leading her on like that,” Gavin says. I look up and he’s staring through the window at Mrs. Alex.
I roll my eyes. “Nothing has changed since high school, Gavin. It’s even worse now that I’m a teacher here.”
Gavin looks past me and waves at Mrs. Alex through the window and smiles at her. “She’s still watching you. Maybe you should flex your muscles; give her a little gun show. Or at least give her a nice view while you’re walking away.”
The thought of Mrs. Alex admiring me from behind makes me a little too uncomfortable, so I change the subject and walk toward my first-period class. “You and Eddie going to Club N9NE tonight? I haven’t seen you guys there in a couple of weeks.”
“Maybe. Why? You doing one?”
I shake my head. “No, not tonight,” I say. “We’ll be there a little after eight, though. My sitter isn’t available until seven-thirty, so we’ll probably miss the sac.”
He stops in his tracks just as we reach my classroom door. “We? Who’s we? Does Will Cooper have a date?” He cocks an eyebrow and waits for my reply.
I don’t usually hang out with students outside of work, but Gavin and Eddie have been showing up at Club N9NE every now and then for a few months. We sometimes sit together, so I’ve gotten to know them pretty well. When you’re teaching at twenty-one years old, it’s sort of difficult to completely cut off socialization with people who are practically your age.
“So? Who is she?” he says. “Who’s the elusive girl that may just be the end to Will Cooper’s dry spell?”
I open the door to the classroom and lose the smile as I switch on teacher-mode. “Get to class, Gavin.”
He laughs and salutes me, then heads down the hallway.
•••
“THANKS AGAIN, MAYA,” I say as I head through the living room. “There’s cash on the table. I ordered pizza about fifteen minutes ago.” I grab my keys and shove my wallet into my pocket. “He’s been talking backward a lot so just ignore it. He’ll talk frontward if he has anything important to say.”
“You paying me double?” she says, falling onto the sofa with the remote in hand. “I didn’t agree to watch that other kid.”
“He’s just the neighbor,” I say. “He’ll go home soon. If he doesn’t, then yeah . . . I guess I’ll pay you extra.” I’ve turned to head outside when the boys make their way back into the house. Kel stops in the doorway and puts his hands on his hips, looking up at me.
“Are you my sister’s boyfriend?”
I’m thrown off by his directedness. “Um, no. Just her friend.”
“She told my mom you were taking her on a date. I thought only boyfriends took girls on dates.”
“Well,” I pause. “Sometimes boys take girls on dates to see if they want them to be their girlfriend.”
I notice Caulder standing beside me, taking in the conversation as if he’s just as curious. I wasn’t prepared to have to explain the rules of dating right now.
“So it’s like a test?” Caulder asks. “To see if you want Layken to be your girlfriend?”
I shrug and nod. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
Kel laughs. “You aren’t gonna like her. She burps a lot. And she’s bossy. And she never lets me drink coffee, so she probably won’t let you have any either. And she has really bad taste in music and sings way too loud and leaves her bras all over the house. It’s gross.”
I laugh. “Thanks for the warning. You think it’s too late to back out now?”
Kel shakes his head, missing my sarcasm completely. “No, she’s already dressed so you have to take her now.”
I sigh, pretending to be annoyed. “Well, it’s just a few hours. Hopefully she won’t burp a lot and boss me around and steal my coffee and sing to her really bad music and leave her bra in my car.”
Or hopefully she will.
Kel walks past me into the house. “Good luck,” he says, his voice full of pity. I laugh and shut the door behind me. I’m halfway to my car when Lake opens her front door and walks to the driveway.
“You ready?” I yell to her.
“Yes,” she yells back.
I wait for her to walk to my car, but she doesn’t. She looks ready. Why is she just standing there?
“Well, come on then!” I yell.
She still doesn’t move. She folds her arms across her chest and stands still. I throw my hand up in defeat and laugh. “What are you doing?”
“You said you would pick me up at seven-thirty,” she yells. “I’m waiting for you to pick me up.”
I grin and get in the car, then back up into her driveway. When I get out and open her door, I notice she’s not wearing the house shoes. I was sort of hoping she was serious this morning. It’s not quite dark yet, which is unfortunate since I can’t stop staring at her. She curled her hair and put on just a touch of makeup. She’s wearing jeans and a purple shirt that brings out the hue of her eyes, making them even harder to look away from. She looks . . . perfect.
Once we’re both in the car, I reach behind me and grab the bag out of the backseat. “We don’t have time to eat, so I made us grilled cheese.” I hand her the sandwich and a drink. I’m hoping she’s not too upset that we aren’t going out to eat. We just don’t have time. I almost went to her house earlier to let her know we weren’t, in case she didn’t eat, but I decided to throw something together at the last minute instead. I sort of wanted to see how she’d react to not being taken on a typical date. Maybe it’s a little mean, but she’s smiling, so she doesn’t seem to mind.
“Wow. This is a first.” She puts her sandwich on her knee and twists open her soda. “And where exactly are we going in such a hurry? It’s obviously not a restaurant.”
I take a bite of my sandwich and pull out of her driveway. “It’s a surprise. I know a lot more about you than you know about me, so tonight I want to show you what I’m all about.”
She grins at me. “Well, I’m intrigued,” she says before she takes a bite of her sandwich.
I’m relieved she doesn’t press me further about where we’re going. It would be sort of hard to explain that I’m taking her to a club on a Thursday night to watch a bunch of people recite poetry. It doesn’t sound near as appealing as it actually is. I’d rather let her experience it for the first time in person without having preconceived notions.
When we finish our sandwiches, she puts the trash in the backseat and shifts in her seat so that she’s facing me. She casually rests her head against the headrest. “What are your parents like?”
I glance out my window, not wanting her to see the reluctance in my expression. It’s the exact thing I was hoping she wouldn’t ask about until the drive home, at least. I’d hate for this to be the first thing we talk about. It would put a somber mood to the whole night. I take a deep breath and exhale, hoping I’m not appearing as uncomfortable on the outside as I’m feeling on the inside.
How the hell can I redirect this conversation?
I decide to play the game Caulder and I play sometimes on the drive to our grandparents. I hope she
won’t think it’s too cheesy, but it’ll pass the time and may even help me get to know her better.
“I’m not big on small talk, Lake. We can figure all that out later. Let’s make this drive interesting.” I adjust myself in the seat and prepare to explain the rules to her. When I turn to look at her, she’s staring at me with a repulsed look on her face.
What the hell did I say? I replay my last sentence in my head and realize how it sounded. I laugh when it dawns on me that she completely misconstrued what I just said. “Lake, no! I just meant let’s talk about something besides what we’re expected to talk about.”
She expels a breath and laughs. “Good,” she says.
“I know a game we can play. It’s called, ‘would you rather.’ Have you played it before?”
She shakes her head. “No, but I would rather you go first.”
I feel like if I use some of the ones Caulder and I have used it would be cheating, so I take a few seconds to think of a new one. “Okay,” I say when I come up with one. I clear my throat. “Okay, would you rather spend the rest of your life with no arms; or would you rather spend the rest of your life with arms you couldn’t control?”
I remember when Caulder and I tried to get Vaughn to play this game on our way to Detroit once; she rolled her eyes and told us to grow up. I watch Lake, hoping for a different reaction, and she just stares at me straight-faced like she’s actually contemplating an answer.
“Well,” she says. “I guess I would rather spend the rest of my life with arms I couldn’t control?”
“What? Seriously?” I laugh, glancing over at her. “But you wouldn’t be controlling them! They could be flailing around and you’d be constantly punching yourself in the face! Or worse, you might grab a knife and stab yourself!”
She laughs. Damn, I love that laugh.
“I didn’t realize there were right and wrong answers,” she says.