Miles didn’t come by again that week.
I told myself to be thankful for it, for the space I’d asked for, but I wasn’t thankful.
I was mad.
What I was thankful for was the school year coming to an end that Friday. We celebrated with class parties and movies, then followed with a staff meeting to wrap up the year and ensure everyone was on the same page when we returned in late August.
Standing in the doorway to my classroom, I stared at the naked walls as nostalgia washed over me. A room where artwork, coats, bags, multiplication tables, and charts hung, each item desperate for more room, now rendered an empty shell.
The door shut with a click so quiet, it shouldn’t have echoed in my ears. I rubbed my bare arms, then grabbed the canvas bags full of my things from the floor and carted them outside to my car.
Swathed in his usual suit but this time with the jacket abandoned, Thomas marched away from my car and toward me. He took the bags from my hands before I’d even had a chance to say hello and walked them silently to my car.
“Thank you,” I said. “We didn’t see you today.” Some of the parents attended on the last day of school, taking part or helping with activities. It was a sugar-fest, and many kids burned out after lunch in lots of fun ways, so the extra help was appreciated.
It didn’t shock me that Thomas didn’t show; what shocked me was that I was digging for an answer as to why he’d kissed me just days ago. And by the quick side glance he threw me as he placed my bags in my messy trunk, he knew it.
“I had to work,” he stated, closing the trunk and placing my purse in my hands.
Heat infused my cheeks as I glimpsed the smooth tan skin above the undone buttons of his dress shirt, and his scent reached me. That cinnamon and mint. It was becoming something I liked, something familiar. Shame spiraled icy tendrils down my spine at the discovery.
“You look constipated.”
“What?” I all but screeched.
Thomas, sounding puzzled, explained, “You have a look on your face that Lou gets when she really needs to use the bathroom but can’t.”
My bag slipped from my hands as I doubled over, laughter howling out of me and causing my eyes to water. I wasn’t even embarrassed. I was far from it as wetness trickled onto my cheeks, and I straightened, rejoicing that they weren’t my heart’s tears. “Jesus.”
“No need for blasphemy,” Thomas said with such seriousness that I bit my tongue to stop from laughing again. He gathered my bag from the ground, and after dusting the dirt from it, he handed it back to me again.
I took it, my hand clasping his before he could let go of the leather material.
He seemed startled, his blues widening with his quick intake of breath. “Thank you.”
“For saying something rather stupid?” He shook his head. “Or for making you drop your bag? Look, I’m not well versed with, um, women.”
“Oh,” I said, my heart sinking a fraction, yet I didn’t drop his hand.
A current radiated between our skin, mine prickling the longer I touched his.
“That doesn’t mean I prefer men.” He stopped, looking exasperated with himself, which hitched my lips higher into my cheeks. “It would seem I’m doing it again.”
Guilt, anger, and any shame I felt by being near him evaporated, leaving room for me to recognize the steady growing warmth in my chest for what it was. Burning curiosity. Unlike any I’d felt before.
It could’ve been the striking difference between him and any other man I’d ever met.
Or it could simply just be.
“Have a drink with me,” I shocked us both by saying. I wasn’t even much of a drinker.
He glanced down at my hand, and I tugged it away, feeling mortified by the suggestion and the fact I’d asked it while still wearing another man’s ring.
“When?” Thomas asked as I spun for the driver’s side of my car.
Blinking a few times, I swallowed and met his intense gaze over the roof. “Uh, whenever you’re free, I guess? I’m as free as a bird all summer.” To emphasize my excitement over that, I flung my hands out, and my purse smacked me in the leg, making me jump. “Shit.” He smirked. “Maybe tea or coffee? I didn’t mean a drink, drink.” God, my cheeks were likely the same color as my red ballet flats. “Anyway, there’s a cute coffee shop down the street from my apartment called Bernie’s.”
A flash of white teeth held me glued to the spot, his eyes glinting as he nodded and opened his car door. “I have to go; Lou is at piano a few blocks away.” He sank into the car’s dark interior. “Tomorrow at ten, Little Dove.”
Nine fifteen.
Silver and diamonds sparkled in the glow of early morning sunshine as I sat on my couch. Still in my pajamas and still without any trace of makeup on, I was still unsure.
Time was supposed to heal all wounds. I believed that, losing my mom being proof. I missed her every day for years, and now I just missed what could have been as well as the little snippets I remembered of her.
It all fades. Memories fade. Heartaches fade. But although time makes it bearable and easier to smile, to live, it doesn’t erase the pain entirely.
Were we doomed to forever hold a sting in our hearts from those who had left or hurt us?
As I sat there, in the same spot I’d been sitting in since five in the morning after waking up in a cold sweat, staring at that ring and feeling its familiar weight on my finger, I concluded one thing only.
It was entirely up to me how much I let that sting hurt.
I didn’t have to let whatever was happening with Thomas turn serious. I didn’t have to let the worry of moving on too soon plague me.
I just had to do whatever it took to make time bearable.
Getting up, I traipsed to my bedroom on numb feet as the circulation returned and opened the jewelry box I’d had since I was a kid. The fairies’ time-worn smiles both mocked and soothed as I pulled the ring off my finger and dropped it inside.
Nothing happened. My chest didn’t cave in. My breathing stayed the same. The only difference was a noticeably lighter hand.
I shut the lid and walked to the shower where I stripped out of my sweat sticky tank and panties, and allowed myself to cry one more time.
Nine forty-five.
Racing through the apartment, I tugged a white cotton dress with sunflowers from the clothes rack where it’d dried overnight and slipped it over my head. I checked and re-checked my appearance, then decided it didn’t matter if I wore one layer of mascara or two.
Thomas had seen me covered in paint smears, glue, and worn down by hours spent with children. Still, I had enough time to half dry my wet hair, spritz some floral perfume behind my ears and wrist, then slip on a pair of pink flip-flops.
The gusty breeze that tunneled through the city streets finished drying my hair and any sweat that’d beaded on my skin from walking so fast.
He was already there. Wearing a pair of dark denim jeans with a matching black polo, he sat at a table in the shade with his eyes on his pocket watch.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not wearing a suit.” I dragged a chair out, the metal legs scraping over the concrete.
A quick perusal of me had shock muddling with obvious appreciation in those serious eyes.
His expression returned to impassive, and he leaned forward to pocket his watch in his jeans. “It is rare that I wear anything else, yes.” Using his index finger, he pushed a menu across the metal surface toward me. “I’ve ordered a tea for you, but would you like something to eat?”
“You know how I like my tea?”
His expression didn’t budge from unreadable, but his gaze was heavy on my lips. “I took a wild guess.”
A waitress set our tea down, and to my utter shock, he’d gotten it right. Earl Grey with two sugars. I took the sugar packets, shaking and tearing them open to dump into my tea as I tried to figure out how I felt about him knowing such personal details about me.
“Thanks,” I managed as I stirred my tea.
A nod was granted, and then he took a sip of his own. No sugar. Just black. “I figured you weren’t too adventurous, then started narrowing down by choice, and—” At my smile, he exhaled a long breath. “And I’ll shut up.”
“Please don’t,” I said, lifting the white mug to my lips and taking a sip. “I didn’t invite you here so I could do all the talking. What kind of doctor are you?”
“The kind that deals with teeth.” I smiled over the rim of my tea cup. “Why did you invite me here?” He didn’t sound annoyed, merely curious.
The hot liquid slid down my throat, and I took another sip as I really thought about that answer. “I don’t know,” I finally admitted. “Why did you come to the school yesterday while Lou was at piano?”
He took a sip of tea. “I don’t know.”
I blinked, running my finger around the saucer. “Where’s Lou Lou?”
“With my assistant at home.”
“She’s a very bright girl.” I relaxed into the uncomfortable, cold seat. “I’m not just saying that either. She’s … intuitive too.”
Thomas’s shoulders seemed to rise, my words pulling his already perfect posture a notch higher like a puppet on a string. “She’s brilliant.”
There was more to his words than mere father pride. He knew she was brilliant beyond the ways he loved her, but in ways that’d offer her many opportunities. I smiled. “She could have the world.”
“And I plan to ensure that happens.”
The gravity behind his words had me laughing, then glancing around the small courtyard to find a couple’s eyes on us. They looked away.
Thomas sighed, and I looked over in time to see what appeared to be a grimace cross his features. “I lied.”
“Oh?” I frowned at his obvious discomfort. “That’s okay.” I tried to laugh it off even as I burned with the desire to know what he’d lied about.
The seconds ticked on as he watched me drink my tea over the rim of his mug. His stare was studious as though he was learning, absorbing, and memorizing. It had ants tap dancing over my stomach and made me feel as if I’d never truly had someone look at me before.
I’ll give you space, but I won’t give you up.
The teacup almost slipped from my shaking hand as I pushed thoughts of Miles away.
This was too soon, and if I had to be honest with myself, I was probably just using Thomas to feel better. Maybe he knew that. Maybe he didn’t care.
Thomas banished my thoughts with his next words. “I do know why I went back. It was to see you.” He licked his lips, and my eyes tracked the movement, then I parted my own as he said, “And would you believe me if I said it was to ask you out?”
“Strangely enough, I think I would.”
His smile made mine appear again, and that steady growing warmth trickled through my limbs. “Lou says you grew up outside the city.”
“Glenning. My father’s still there on our small farm.”
Thomas sat back in his chair, fingers meeting over his flat stomach. “Tell me about it?”
I smiled. “Okay.”