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He wasn't dating Trish! I can't stop doing an internal happy dance to the sing-songy tune of "He isn't dating Trish!"
"So, are you a yeller when you're in a fight?" he asked innocently.
"Well, in my family we like to argue loudly, but quickly. We aren't very good at being silent or passive aggressive in an argument, and we don't like to hold grudges. How about you?"
"Well, I'm far from passive aggressive, but years of working in the school system has taught me how to avoid yelling. However, I do like the idea of getting arguments over efficiently, and I'm not afraid of a feisty brunette yelling in my direction if it means we get to have makeup sex later," Dale admitted with a tone that could make my soul follow him like the pied piper any day.
Did I mention he wasn't dating Trish?
"Now that I know to avoid Trish and her web of lies, how was your day?" I asked matter of factly.
"It was pretty laid back until the last 25 minutes," Dale said good-naturedly. "On Saturdays, we tend to spend the whole day with my parents. I play golf with dad and mom usually bakes with the kids. Then we'll have a family dinner at one of the local restaurants on site."
"Wait! They have more than just a cafeteria at your parent's assisted living facility?"
"They do. It's more like a village than an assisted living facility. They did a great job of setting it up more like a gated community so that the residents don't feel like their restricted. My parents are still relatively young and live in one of the cottages, so they still drive and take vacations.
"Tonight, instead of going to one of the restaurant's on-site, my parents asked me to fill a chair at the table they purchased for their country club's fundraiser. Their neighbor Mrs. Lytle watched the twins. How about you, did you get up to any shenanigans today?"
"Again, with the word shenanigans, Mr. Wilson?"
"It's my new favorite word, Ms. Jenkins."
Laughing at his silliness, I told him about the trip to the aquarium and running into Polly Wilcox.
"Oh, you'll like Polly Wilcox. Your kids aren't the same age, but she is not one of the fake moms you'll occasionally run into."
"Well, that's good to know," I said happily. I did like Polly. Up until Trish's performance, I felt Polly might end up being a potential mom friend. "From now on, I'll have to ask your opinion about the moms I meet. Apparently, some of them like to lie."
Laughing he said, "This is true, the popular girls from high school eventually do become the popular moms at the PTA. So, what did you guys do after the aquarium?"
Detailing the kids playing at the bookstore and eating grilled cheese should have bored Dale, but it didn't.
"How are you so good at listening about my mundane day? The last person outside of my family to want to hear the details of my boring life was my high school boyfriend."
"Your ex never asked about your day?" he asked in disgust.
"He would occasionally ask sarcastically, but usually he would roll his eyes if I started talking about my day and walk away."
"I know he's the father of your children, and one of my favorite things about you is that you avoid drone on and on to me about how we compare, but he sounds like a jackass. A true partner ALWAYS cares about your day."
Wanting to change the subject to avoid any crying I said, "Thank you for that, Dale. Now tell me about this fundraiser."
After another 20 minutes of companionable chit-chat, we said our goodnights and made plans to meet at the local Bojangle's after church so that we could head up north to my uncle's farm.
The next morning went by quickly, and despite church running late, we still made it to Bojangle's just as Dale's van was pulling up. While transferring the girls' seats into his van, he leaned over and whispers, "Let me know when you're ready for me to kiss you in front of the kids. I hate not being able to greet you properly."
Smiling I responded, "Soon, Dale. That is a promise."
Once we had loaded everyone, we made a quick run through the drive-thru for a snack of biscuits and jam before hitting the road. Thankfully, Dale's van came fully loaded with a DVD player, which entertained the 5-year-olds. Thus, once Mandy passed out 10 minutes into the drive, Dale and I were finally able to have some time for private conversation.
"I forgot to ask, where do you go to church?" Dale asked.
"We go to St. Matthew's down the road from my mom's. How about you?"
"That used to be my parish growing up, but Maggie hated everything to do with Catholicism, so we ended up joining the local mega-church. It's nice, but I miss the smaller church feel of St. Matthew's," he said with regret.
Feeling like we should change the subject, I asked, "Have you ever been to a pumpkin farm?"
"I have. Every year I take the kids up to Sadler's Ridge for the Halloween festival there. They love it and always...What? Do I have biscuit stuck on my face?"
He asked rubbing a hand down his face because I was staring at him with my mouth open.
"That's where we're going, Sadler's Ridge. The owners, Terry and Shawn Sadler are my aunt and uncle."
To say that Dale looked excited was a complete understatement. He was actually bouncing in his seat. "No way! We get an inside look at Sadler’s Ridge. Kelly, when the kids realize where we are, they are going to be ecstatic!"
"As ecstatic as you are this moment?"
"Not quite, but close. I'm a HUGE fan of your uncle's beer. I drink it at least three times a week."
And then the man blushed, effectively stealing my heart as I watched his beautiful profile begin to glow.