Where We Left Off (20 page)

My shoulders bounced with the unanticipated laugh that elicited.

Me: No, not married.

I fired off the text and then seconds later added,
Are you?

Waiting for the returned message was more challenging than waiting on a pot of water to boil. The longer I stared at the device, the more certain I was that the answer would be one I didn’t wish to see. It only required a yes or no, but there was an explanation here and I was impatient and expectant for it.

Heath: Me neither, but it’s complicated.

Me: I’m fluent in complicated.

Heath: LOL

I cringed. That was teenager speak, something I most definitely was
not
fluent in.

You couldn’t really end a text on an LOL. It just wasn’t possible. The other person would always wait for another, more adequate response, some way to finalize and button up the conversation with full words rather than abbreviations. I was doing just that as the phone buzzed again.

Heath: If you don’t have plans this Tuesday, I have two incredibly hard to get, super sought after tickets for one of the most highly anticipated events of the year. I’d love to offer one to you.

My cheeks flushed and there was a welcome enthusiasm from that invitation that did strange things to my belly.

Me: You’ve got me curious. Where to?

Heath: My ten-year-old niece’s dance recital.

A laugh
leaped
from my throat.

Me: Sounds fantastic.

Heath: Really? I might have played it up slightly.

Twelve years. Twelve years without any communication and we slipped right into this easy banter so effortlessly. How was that even possible?

Me: What time should I be ready?

Heath: I would love to say right now, but I suppose 6:00 on Tuesday will do.

Me: I can’t wait.

I stared at the phone for a heavy pause when he finally answered.

Heath: I guess we’ll only have to wait a little longer.

Those words were dense with meaning. Not definitions, but emotion and story. One sentence that, to anyone else, would be easily skimmed over and forgotten. But there was something weighty in his words, and I felt it. Nerves rattled around in my heart, the one he’d owned so fully when we were kids.

The one a piece of him probably still owned.

But the one that had also been burst into a million other pieces, some pieces that I didn’t even have anymore. Some pieces that someone else would always have and some pieces that were gone forever.

But maybe,
maybe
there were pieces that I could try to get back.

I smiled to myself and shut my phone off for the night.

Heath

Friday passed quickly. I gave out tests in each one of my classes and filled the silent time with Pinterest searches on appropriate first date attire. Not information I ever thought I’d look up on a women’s crafting site, but I was all about making a good impression. And let me just say, there were a lot of sharp and dapper dudes out there. Mustaches that curled upward like they were made from pipe cleaners and beards that had glitter strewn in them like a unicorn vomited directly on their face. That wasn’t the exact vibe and the look I aspired to, but you had to give it to them for the ingenuity. It was definitely there.

All of this led me to my Saturday activities which consisted of a much-needed haircut and first ever professional shave at a barbershop. I wasn’t a wuss. Of course I liked manly things such as guns and four wheelers and fine whiskey. But knives? I could appreciate a knife so long as it stayed away from my jugular. A close shave did not allow for the distance I required between a razor sharp blade and myself. One accidental sneeze and I’d be bleeding out on the floor.

The unnecessarily amount of perspiring I did during my barber shop experience led me to the department store on Sunday to purchase a package of brand new undershirts, which then forced me to visit a neighboring town on Monday after school in order to pick up the gray button up shirt they had on hold for me since the original store didn’t have my size.

All in all, I was extremely successful in distracting myself for the five days necessary.

But now it was Tuesday. Not even halfway through the workday, either, and my distractions had officially run out.

“You got
some place
you need to be, McBride?”

Leave it to Mark to call me out. I peeled my gaze from the clock to meet his. “Nope. Just focus on finishing your assignment, Mr. Dwayne.”

“Oh, I’m all done.” He pushed his packet so it lined up with the edge of his desk and swung his sneakers onto the desktop. Then, like he was Mr. Cool, he bit the eraser on his pencil between his teeth.

“Off,
” I instructed, raising my eyebrows toward him. I was all about being the good guy, but respect and manners were non-negotiable. “Bring it to me if you’re done.”

I’d released the hounds. All students bombarded me at once with their assignments in hand, ready to turn in. I collected them at a rapid rate, but I was unsure how they all finished so quickly.

“You underestimate us, Mr. McBride,” Tabitha said as she dropped her assignment onto my desk. “That was hardly what I’d call a test.”

“Give him a break, he’s been a little distracted lately,” Lucas murmured, but he was still finishing up his work, head hunkered down.

“Distracted?”

“Yeah, you know,” Mark interjected. “With your date and all.”

My eyes flitted his way and I didn’t wear the surprise well at all. “Date?”

“Sir.” Lucas flipped the last page of his packet over and held the papers by their stapled edge. Sabrina snagged it on her way to turn hers in and handed both papers to me. “You’ve hardly been secretive about it.”

“I haven’t?”

“The haircut?” Tabitha nodded toward my freshly cropped scalp. “And the
smooth-as-a-baby’s-butt
chin? You’re clearly cleaning up for someone. Bachelors don’t do that much manscaping unless they’re trying to impress.”

“Manscaping?” I was about two conversations behind.

“And the constant glancing to your ring finger. I promise, none of us can see your ring tan anymore. It’s not noticeable.”

What the hell? How on earth were these kids recognizing things I wasn’t even aware of? “Anything else?”

“You’ve been biting your thumb,” Sabrina offered, her voice characteristically quiet. Her eyes were downcast under a fringe of thick bangs. “A lot.”

“And you’ve been muttering under your breath. Like reciting a conversation or something. Freaky as hell if you ask me,” Mark said.

“All right. That’s enough. Let’s move forward with today’s agenda.” I ran my index finger over my notepad, but I wasn’t reading anything. I’d expected the quiz to take up the majority of class time, and now we had twenty minutes of empty lesson planning. Major teacher
fail
on my part.

“So.” Tabitha leaned toward me and kept her voice a hushed whisper. “Who is it?”

“Back in your seat,” I instructed. She scrunched her face in disappointment.

“Seriously, Teach. Who’s the chick?”

“She’s not a chick. She’s a woman. Women aren’t chicks. For that matter, neither are girls. You could benefit from expanding your vocabulary a little, Mark.”

“Ouch!” He slammed his hand down onto his desk but was all smiles. “Looks like someone’s nervous!”

“Of course I’m nervous! I’ve been waiting twelve years for this night!”

“Oh my God!” Tabitha screamed. “It’s her! Your high school sweetheart? Oh! This is soooo good.”

Lucas looked up. “Is it really, sir? Is it her?”

I felt like I was about to puke. Talking about the date catapulted everything to a new level, one where I was suddenly aware of the potential for tonight to go very, very badly.

“Yeah, it’s her.”

“So she’s in California?”

“Yes.” In California. In the same zip code. Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. I hadn’t let the enormity of that coincidence settle in yet, but as I reiterated it to my class, it made my chest tighten with anxiety.

Tabitha clapped her hands together wildly. “This is like the sweetest old people fairy tale ever!”

“I’m not that old,” I murmured as I grabbed a dry erase marker and begin writing Faust’s words
on
the whiteboard. “Seriously, I’m not even thirty.”

I wasn’t a teenager, either, though. And neither was Mallory. For as much as I wanted to believe we could pick things up where we left off, I knew that might not be possible.

But that sure as hell was not going to keep me from trying.

Mallory

The car ride was longer than I had expected. I’d assumed Heath’s family lived in town, but Natalie’s performance was at a theater twenty-five minutes from my place—all highway miles—and parking took another fifteen to find. I wouldn’t say we caught up on much during the drive, but we filled the pauses with pleasant and enjoyable conversation. Heath told me he was a high school English teacher and I’d smiled at that. He always was such a great student of literature. It only made sense that he’d make a career out of that passion. I’d told him I was a mom and a budding florist and he’d laughed at the pun and didn’t dwell on the mother part so I couldn’t read how that news made him feel. Either way, it felt good to let him know about Corbin right off the bat. I wouldn’t let him become some secret.

By the time the blinker on Heath’s old truck flicked on to turn into the performing arts center, my jitters subsided, replaced with a warm, familiar ease. From what I could tell so far, Heath was the same Heath of my memories: charmingly witty, smart, and subtly flirtatious when the moment was appropriate for it. He’d held my door wide open to allow me into the truck when he’d picked me up and I could feel his gaze land on my bare legs, skimming them up and down in appreciation. Then he’d given me the most adorable grin through the window as he closed my door into place. I had to collect my breath and myself as he jogged around to the driver’s side.

This was a date, clearly, and it surprised me at how okay I was with that.

I could do this.

Heath parked the vehicle at the edge of the lot and his truck was so big and the car next to us so far over the line that I had to shimmy across his bench seat to get out on his side. He extended a hand out to help me down, and I grabbed right on to it, probably a little too eagerly, but not enough to make me insecure. Then we walked quietly side by side toward the entrance. Heath wasn’t wrong in saying this was a highly anticipated event because the proud parents and grandparents and siblings in their Sunday best sure made it feel like a red carpet event.

I loved seeing the excitement on the dancer’s faces that congregated in the lobby before showtime. It was a kaleidoscope of sequins, taffeta, and stage makeup. Tonight was their time to shine and even though I didn’t know a single soul in the building other than Heath, my heart swelled with pride for the performers. For them, this was a really big deal and I was thankful to be a part of it.

“There she is.” Heath’s eyes lit up when he locked in on a dark-haired girl, her pin curls bobbing like springs. She giggled with a group of friends who were similar in age and costume. “Nat! Hey, Natty!”

Other pre-teen girls would be mortified to have an adult calling out and frantically waving their direction, but Natalie’s reaction was anything but embarrassed. Immediately, she abandoned her crew and shimmied through the throng of bodies, trying to reach her uncle like a salmon swimming upstream.

“You came!” Her rouged cheek smacked into his chest.

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” Heath dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. “Not really sure what that phrase even means, but all I can say is that there’s no place in the world I’d rather be right now.”

“Well, since I
am
your whole world, it’s good that you’re here.” Natalie turned to face me. She had deep-set dimples and they were fantastic, like her
uncle’s
. “You must be Mallory.”

I reached out to offer my hand in greeting but Natalie confidently went in for a hug instead. “Uncle Heath hasn’t stopped talking about you. I just hope he shuts up long enough to actually watch the performance.”