Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nina
I couldn’t believe how well this evening was turning out. Part of me kept waiting for West to become annoyed about something, but so far so good. Once we reached the end of the block, we crossed the street and headed back toward the parking lot where we’d left his car. Holding West’s hand felt right. I was waiting for him to let go. While I had a pretty firm grasp on window shopping, West and this whole dating thing was still a mystery.
When we got to the parking lot, he hit the unlock button on his key fob and the car lights flashed. I took that as my cue to release his hand. I opened the car door and climbed in. He walked around, got in, and started the car, but he didn’t put his seat belt on. Instead, he leaned toward me. Like a dork, I already had my seat belt on. I leaned over while casually trying to hit the button to release the seat belt, but my fingers couldn’t find the right spot.
West smiled at me. “Are you stuck?”
“Maybe.” I glanced down at the seat belt release, which had twisted around and sunk into the seat. “Uhm…I think I might have to live in your car.”
He laughed. “Allow me.” He adjusted the seat belt back to its proper spot and hit the button.
“My hero,” I said, before I leaned in and pressed my mouth against his, and then I stopped thinking. Everything narrowed down to his hand on my hip, pulling me toward him, and his mouth against mine. Despite the random bumps in our dating life so far, this part was easy. This part, being close to him like this…it worked. Too soon, he pulled away and drove out of the parking lot. I sat there in a happy post-kissing haze of bliss, feeling content with the world.
“Do you really want to go to the Valentine’s Dance next weekend, or would you rather do something else? And please notice the hopeful tone in my voice about doing something else.”
I laughed. “You’re in luck, because in theory, school dances are supposed to be this magical experience. In reality, it’s dressing up in uncomfortable clothes to stand around in the same place where a bunch of kids sweat every day. Doing something else sounds like a good plan to me.”
“That’s a relief,” he said.
“I wonder what else is going on.” I pulled out my cell and Googled local Valentine’s events. “Some restaurants are offering special dinners, which probably means a limited menu where they charge twice the normal price.”
West chuckled. “You’re so cynical.”
“I can’t think of a single holiday that isn’t stressful. I like Halloween because it’s free license to eat as much chocolate as you want, but Thanksgiving and Christmas just make me feel stupid.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I used to look forward to my dad coming home for the holidays. My mom always made a big deal out of us being together as a family. She worked so hard to make everything perfect. And now, despite all that Hallmark-card-type bullshit, we’re not together anymore. So the whole idea of the perfect family gathering seems like a big, fat lie.”
“I used to like the holidays, back when my mom was nor—not sick.”
The way he said it made me think he’d meant to say something else. We turned onto our street, and then he pulled in the driveway and parked.
“What were you going to say, before you said ‘not sick?’ And keep in mind that I’ve been baring my soul over here, so you don’t have to worry about oversharing.”
He turned the car off and stared at the steering wheel. “It sounds mean, and that’s not how I want to sound. I was going to say back when she was normal.”
I reached over and grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry. My dad made his choices, but your mom didn’t choose to become ill.” And now the mood had nose-dived. “On to happier topics.” I scrolled through Valentine’s Day events. “How would you feel about a chocolate festival? We’d buy tickets and sample some chocolate and watch pastry chefs create chocolate sculptures.”
“Why don’t we keep it simple and go to a movie?” he suggested.
“That will be plan B.” The time on my cell said it was nine thirty. I was having so much fun, I didn’t want the evening to end. “Do you want to come to my house and watch television?”
“Sure.”
I unhooked my seat belt and then pointed at what I’d done. “Did you see?”
“Good job,” he said, like he was praising a small child.
“Come on.” I opened the car door and headed for my front door. He fell into step beside me. The evening seemed surreal. Being with him made me happy. I think I made him happy, too. Wasn’t that what you were supposed to look for? Someone who made you feel better when they were around, made you feel better about yourself? We may not be on the same side about keeping the library open, but as long as he was honest with me, everything would work out okay.