Chapter Six

ANN: I DON’T think I’ll have overtime the rest of this week. Let me know if any night might work for our date.

I sent the text and put my phone back on my desk, sighing at my newest form of torture—a client wanting a customization we’d never done before. It was a logistics nightmare and actually made me long for the number analysis of the audit. The previous week had been rough at work, and the one day I had available, Rachael hadn’t been able to get anyone to watch Connor, so here we were almost two weeks out from Rachael’s declaration, and we still hadn’t scheduled to get out.

We’d managed to hit a raid last weekend, though, which had been fun. I recalled her laugh and sparkling eyes, and several minutes slipped past while I ignored the office around me.

Chelsea popped her head over the top of my cubicle. “Help me for a sec?”

Any break from the computer screen was a welcome one. “Sure.”

I followed her to her cube, noting her fashion choice of a pencil skirt and blouse covered in ruffles, both in bright shades of blue. It was very Chelsea.

“I’ve got to ship this internationally, and I can’t remember all the damn steps.”

The groan that escaped my throat was completely involuntary. “Fucking international shipments. Okay, so here’s what you do.”

As I walked her through the steps, it took everything in my power to stay focused as she filled out forms, my thoughts mulling over good restaurants and if any of them might have item collection spots in Ani-min. There was a sushi place not too far from the suburbs, but would it be too expensive?

“Okay, there. Now what?”

I blinked at the form on her screen, grimacing as I tried to recall the too-convoluted procedure. “Ugh. Okay, email it to our international team with the sales confirmation. Did you add all the international fees?”

Chelsea pouted, clicked over to her sales order. “Why is this so hard to remember?”

“Because we do it infrequently enough to not commit it to fast memory.”

“Well, you know it.”

“Yeah, but I had two international clients last year, remember?” When she grimaced up at me, I shrugged. “You need a bit more experience, that’s all. You’ll get it if you do it enough.”

“One would think three years should be enough.”

She was beating herself up again, and it still caught me off guard given what had been a long-standing reliability of her positive smile and attitude in the office. Just goes to show you never really know what’s behind a smile.

“You know I’m happy to help whenever.”

Chelsea huffed a curl out of her face and kept fixing her sales order. “I appreciate it. Trying to tell myself it’s okay I can’t remember how to do this. See, you totally have a shot at the lead position. Okay. Anything else?”

“No, that’s it. Unless the international team has questions about the order. Then it’s another few days of back and forth.”

She tipped her head and groaned at the ceiling. I didn’t blame her. I stuck around an extra second to make sure she was set, but when I turned to go, her chair swiveled around to me.

“I didn’t even ask you how the sales audit is going.”

“I think it’s on track, though I can’t say the same for the rest of my projects,” I laughed. “I’ve got almost all the data I need and am starting to figure out how to organize and crosscheck it.”

Chelsea shook her head, her expression edging on awe. “I can’t imagine doing that on top of everything else.”

I waved her off. “Hey, I’m not going to say I like the audit, but I definitely don’t hate it.”

We smiled, and then I nodded a farewell and headed to my desk. I was still worried about her negative self-perception, but didn’t know what I could do about it. Her frustration made sense though—that’s how I’d felt when I was newer here. But there were only so many times I could say you’ll get it before it felt fake and empty.

With a sigh, I settled back at my computer and checked my phone. Rachael had responded!

Rachael: I think I can get Thursday to work? I’ll let you know by tomorrow.

Now that was the kind of motivation I needed to get through the day.

 

TAKING FRANNY ON the walk down to the park had become so routine she happily trotted in that direction without me having to think about it. We crossed the street and strode under dappled sunlight in the lingering heat of the evening, and I tried to purge work thoughts from my mind as I caught mini-animals and checked on my critter’s walking progress. There was no raid at the park today, but I could still collect some items there, and not having to fight Franny on what route we’d take was its own special gift.

And when I turned into the park, my chest swelled with excitement, because there was Rachael tapping away at her phone as Connor sprinted along the play structure. Franny tugged forward, and I jogged slightly to stay with her.

“Hey, Rachael!” I called. She looked up, and her expression brightened.

“Fancy meeting you here!” she said with a laugh as we joined her.

“I know, so unusual.” I smiled. “Did you figure out if Thursday will work?”

She nodded. “It should. My mom’s free. Do we know where we’re going yet?”

I sat next to her on the bench, my excitement mingling with a trickle of nervousness making its way through my gut. We are going to go on a date. My first date in months! What the hell do I wear?

Franny wagged her tail and greeted Rachael with an enthusiastic lick of her outstretched hand. Oh, right, Rachael had asked where we’d go?

“Um, what kind of food do you like?”

“Anything. I’m not picky.”

So helpful. But it was okay. “Well, there’s a nice Italian place not too far from my work I’ve been to a few times.”

“I like Italian.”

“Unless you wanted to get drinks at all. I know a bar with decent restaurant food.”

Rachael scrunched up her nose and turned an unsure expression toward me. “I really shouldn’t drink.”

“Oh, no worries,” I said, hoping I hadn’t hit a nerve. “Italian place it is.”

“I can’t wait.”

We shared a moment of silence watching Connor playing on a swing and leap off the end, and Franny settled by my side and rested her big doggy head on my feet.

“Is it hard doing it by yourself?” I asked.

Rachael frowned at her phone. “Wait, doing what?”

“Raising a kid?”

Rachael snorted a laugh and shook her head. “Oh, duh. Jeez.”

I smirked at her. “What did you think I meant?”

She waved a hand, shaking her head. “Don’t mind me! My head was totally not in the gutter!” I chuckled, and she continued. “Anyways, it has its bad moments and its good moments. You live for the good moments and try not to let the bad moments get under your skin. But it’s hard. Like, today, I learned Connor is talking back at his teacher, and I’ve tried to discuss it with him, and he blows me off.”

I grimaced at her. “What do you do then?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice going a little shrill. “I wish I did. Maybe if I could figure out what’s causing it, we’d get somewhere. Am I working too much? Is it ’cause the other kids talk about their dads and his dad is…” Rachael sighed, burying her face in her hands before running her fingers through her hair.

“I’m sorry,” I tried.

“No, I’m just…ugh. It’s a parenting thing I guess.”

I nodded. “I don’t know how you do it. You’re a superhero.”

She laughed. “You do it because there’s no other option. You can’t not.”

I wouldn’t admit to her how scary that sounded. Especially if she hadn’t signed up to raise a kid alone. But things happen. I could understand that.

“We all do the best we can with the situation we’re in. That’s all we can ask of ourselves.”

She nodded, keeping her gaze on her child. “Couldn’t have said it better if I tried.”

In the gentle breeze and comforting heat of the evening, we watched Connor play for a few more minutes, and I wished this were my life. I tried to imagine helping Connor with homework or toys, telling him to eat his vegetables or get ready for bed. It was weird but not impossible to imagine.

It was the first time I’d ever seen a future with me as a mother figure and hadn’t felt conflicted about how I’d get there. But with a first date not even in the past yet, I shouldn’t be thinking that far ahead. It wasn’t right.

But that didn’t stop me from picturing us sitting there, holding hands, planning what we’d cook for dinner.

Together.

 

I CHECKED MY makeup in my compact mirror, wishing I could smooth out a smudge of eyeliner but not wanting to mess with my eye shadow. It would have to do for now, with Rachael due any moment. I sat straighter on the bench in the entryway of the restaurant, the hearty smell of tomato and basil invoking a sense of home-cooked meals, making me excited to eat.

Folksy music fought for my attention over the talking and laughing of patrons in the restaurant, all the sound adding up to a loud rumbling that didn’t really help the butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t think the butterflies would nibble at me and make me want to squirm and duck underneath the hostess’s table, but here I was, fiddling with my blouse and hoping my bra wasn’t visible. I should have worn the blue blouse. Why did I have to shoot for the cute green one I knew I’d be fiddling with the whole time?

As a distraction, I netted some mini-animals and got items from a post barely within range.

A text message flashed onto my screen. Rachael: Parking!

Oh, good. I checked my makeup again—Nope, don’t have to reapply lipstick—and then Rachael walked in, her brown hair in cascading loose curls over her shoulders, an attractive red blouse drawing my gaze down. She’d balanced the blouse with a pleated brown skirt and knee-high brown boots. I stood, breathless, taking it all in.

“Wow. You look amazing.”

Rachael smiled and half curtseyed. “You look great too.”

I returned the smile. “Let’s go eat.”

We were seated and sipping glasses of water soon enough, big menus before us, and Ani-min open on our phones.

“You can just reach the post across the street,” I pointed out.

“Good, I need more nets.”

I perused the menu, all various pastas with creamy sauces. A cheese ravioli with squash caught my eye. “I’ll take one of everything.”

“Yes, please. I don’t know how I’m going to pick.”

“What are you in the mood for?” I asked, and Rachael pursed her lips and gave the menu a twitter of her eyebrows.

“A relaxing meal where I can eat at my leisure and don’t have to keep Connor from climbing into the next booth.”

I laughed. “I think we can manage that.”

We eased into conversation soon enough, her regaling me with Connor’s most recent soccer practice and me ranting about old software and tiny laptop screens. I couldn’t stop staring at her—her voluptuous brown hair, her copper eyeshadow bringing out the gold and orange flecks in her eyes, her lips a more modest red than her blouse but still so inviting.

She might have been the most beautiful woman I had ever taken on a date, though possibly my infatuation was influencing me as much as her appearance.

At one point in our conversation, she glanced down at her phone. “Oh, look, a grasshopper!” She flicked her finger on the screen, and I unlocked my phone and waited for Ani-min to reload.

“I definitely need the grasshopper treats,” I said, throwing a net in-game.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to be okay with us playing Ani-min while on a date,” she said with a nervous chuckle.

“Why not?” I challenged, smiling at her. “We’re adults. We can choose to play a kid’s game whenever and wherever we want.”

Rachael laughed into her drink, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. I followed the movement of her hand as she put the napkin down, the faint imprint of red lips on white cloth exactly what I wanted to see. I imagined those red lips leaving kisses up my chest and shuddered.

Slow down, mind. This is a first date!

“Ooh, is there a draft? It’s not cold on my side.”

I smiled at the motherly concern in her tone. “I’m fine. Excited for the food.”

And on cue, our starters arrived, salads and rolls of bread that brought a buttery garlic aroma in their wake.

Rachael let out what could only be called a moan as she ripped open a roll and slathered it in butter. She took a bite and melted into her seat.

“It’s warm, and I’m not getting Connor his dinner first—when is the last time I did this?”

I followed suit with a roll of my own, though with admittedly less vigor. The garlic and herbs were a delightful touch to the fluffy, warm bread. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

She smiled sheepishly. “Me too.”

We started in on our salads, and Rachael kept glancing up at me through a wave of brown hair, a quirk of her lips suggesting she was about to change the topic to something interesting. I collected items with a tap of my finger on my phone and raised my eyebrows at her.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, well, um.” She took another bite, chewed, collected items. “I don’t know how open you are to talking about certain things.”

“Try me,” I encouraged.

“I feel like my history is pretty obvious, what with the son and all, and my bisexual confession the other day. But I want to know more about your past? If you want to share?”

I nodded, picking at my salad, trying to decide how I was going to start and what to say. That was the hard part about going out with someone new. It was fun to share yourself, but also intimidating. What was too much? What if I said something wrong? What if she didn’t like what she heard?

“I’ve been single for a little while. My job has monopolized a lot of my life over the years, and I’ve given Franny the rest lately.”

“I get that.”

“So, I haven’t been dating much. But I’ve known I was a lesbian since college. I’ve only had two girlfriends since knowing. Before them, I had a string of failed boyfriends throughout high school and college.”

“How did you know?”

“That I was into girls?” I asked, and Rachael nodded, her shoulders hunched.

I could ask her the same question, and I would, eventually. I smiled into my plate. “Did you ever get drunk and make out with your girlfriends?”

She gasped. “Oh, no you didn’t!”

I batted my eyes at her. “Oh, yes I did. Enough times that I realized if I still wanted to when I was sober, I was probably into girls. It’s one of the most stereotypically college ways to find out, but there it is. It was just this epiphany, like, that’s why I feel so miserable when I have a boyfriend, that’s why I don’t like them touching or kissing me. It’s not what I’m into.”

“Oh my god, that is amazing. And such an important thing to figure out.”

The server cleared away our salad bowls, and I practically wriggled in my seat, anticipating my entrée. Rachael appeared to be in similar spirits, realigning her napkin, silverware, and cup, and making a cute squeak of happiness when she was done. She collected items in Ani-min, which reminded me to do the same. There were some new mini-animals bouncing around in the game, so I threw a few nets while I continued.

“So, anyway. I guess you can say I’ve been all over the map, though I’ll admit not in the same way you have.” She laughed, and I kept going. “But it’s gotten me to this point, and I know much better now what I want and need out of a relationship.”

She nodded, and her smile slowly faded. “I can relate. Lenny and I were never married. We were a summer fling that ended with the universe giving me my amazing little boy and Lenny moving on. There were a lot of hard lessons we both had no choice but to learn, and a lot of mistakes I know how to not make now.”

“He didn’t want to be a father?” I asked carefully. Rachael shrugged, stirring her drink with a straw.

“Not even a little bit. He was much younger than me. About to start a new job in another state.”

“Well, I think you’re really strong and brave.” What else would I say? My words felt woefully inadequate. But I wanted her to know I cared, even if I couldn’t express it well.

Rachael smiled but kept her gaze down, a quiver in her lip suggesting the conversation had grown really hard for her. “It doesn’t always feel that way, but as I think I told you the other day, you do what you gotta do to take care of who you love.”

“And you’re amazing.”

Finally, she met my eyes, hers misty. She blinked, smiled weakly. “Thank you.”

Our entrées came a few minutes later, and we dug in with excitement and vigor. My ravioli were plump and hearty and balanced well with the freshness of the squash and the saltiness of the Parmesan on top. I delighted in the flavor, savoring my first bite. Rachael twirled up a large forkful of linguini in a creamy white sauce speckled with fresh herbs, and as I chewed, she opened her mouth wide and ate the whole forkful in one bite. Her eyebrows raised, and a large smile lifted her cheeks.

“Good?” I asked, and she nodded. The sight of her enjoyment worked its way inside me, warming my core. I smiled back and readied another forkful for myself.

But, only a few bites in, Rachael’s phone rang.

“Shit, oh no, what?” she whispered, tapping Accept and bringing the phone to her ear.

“What’d he do now?” she started.

I struggled not to laugh, which became easy when her jaw dropped.

“Is he okay?” she asked. A pause. “Okay, put some ice on it.”

She stole a begging glance at me, before refocusing on her plate.

Her voice grew exasperated. “No, I agree, I should come home.”

Damn. I chewed another forkful slowly, and Rachael managed another few bites as she said goodbye.

“Is Connor okay?” I asked.

She shook her head and swallowed as her cheeks turned as red as her lipstick. “He’s fine. But he fell off one of the chairs and hit his head on the tile floor. He is not happy about it and is crying for me.”

She swore under her breath and ate another forkful while I managed to flag down a server.

“Can you get us a box? She needs to head out.”

Almost called her my girlfriend. Almost.

The server returned with a box, and Rachael scooped the rest of her meal into it, her face set with a deep frown.

“Can’t have one evening to myself. Obviously, he didn’t fall on purpose but asking for me? He wants me back home. And I’m tired, I just wanted to relax.”

“It’s okay,” I tried, her quick anger flustering me. “We’ll go out again.”

She paused and gave me a hopeful look.

“Yes, yes we will. I’m so sorry about this.”

I waved her statement off. “Your little boy comes first. Always.”

Rachael stood and held out her arms. It took me a moment to process what she meant before I stood, too, and she enveloped me in a tight hug. “That you get it means the world to me. Talk to you later.”

“Sure.”

And she rushed off, to-go box tucked under her arm. Her empty seat mocked me. I returned to my half-eaten pasta and tried not to feel bitter.

Because I had meant it, wholly and completely, but this was the second time our evenings had been cut short, both because of her son. Was this what life with a kid was like? Did I want it to be my life too if Rachael and I had a serious relationship?

I unlocked my phone and collected some items, threw some nets, and finished my dinner by myself, now pretty confident this wouldn’t be the last time I’d end our dates alone.

 

BY THE TIME I’d made it home, the warmth of the food and the joy of the first half of our evening together were hardly enough to keep me contented after how the date had ended. After a late-night walk with Franny around the apartment complex, I had to get my mind off it all. So, I settled into bed, making my way slowly through a fantasy book a friend had suggested to me years ago. The heroine discovered her latent magic ability right when my phone buzzed.

Rachael: Ugh, I think we are finally settled down for the night. I bailed on a first date—what is wrong with my life?

Seeing her name still made my heart thump with excitement. But my mind wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic as it had been before this evening.

Ann: Don’t worry about it, really. Did you get to finish eating your dinner?

Rachael: In between the late-night cartoon and bedroom stories, I may have snagged a few more bites…

“Oh, wow.” How frustrating.

Ann: Now he’s in bed at least?

Rachael: Yeah. Though I doubt it’ll stay that way.

Ann: Well, here’s how exciting my life is—I’m already in bed too!

Rachael: There are worse places to be of course ;)

The smiley tickled me with its silliness. Was she making a joke about not getting much sleep, or did it imply the playful suggestiveness I thought it did?

Ann: For sure. That’s why I’ve put my feet up, shoved Franny to her side, and settled in for the night.

Rachael: Sounds comfortable. And peaceful. I’m jealous.

I smiled, giving Franny a pat between the ears. I wanted to say something in return that would probably be too much too soon. The longer I sat in this quiet apartment, the more it circled around my head. I typed it out, deleted it, and then typed it out again.

“Damn it, just send it. She can see you typing,” I muttered.

Ann: Wish you were here.

There. Out in the world. Rachael started typing back almost immediately, and my heart leapt into my throat.

Rachael: Wish I was too. Or that you were here. Either way, I’d have a few more moments of adult conversation.

As important as that was, I hoped it wasn’t the only reason she wanted to hang out with me.

Ann: Is it still adult conversation if we talk about Ani-min?

Rachael: Of course. Want to talk about which mini-animals are the best to use against each raid boss and why?

I laughed, and Franny lifted her head to stare at me.

“What? I’m having fun.”

She put her head back down, and I resumed tapping away.

Ann: I know people say that, but does it really make a difference?

Rachael: Did you not play the Gameboy versions back in elementary school?

I snorted and texted: No!

Our banter continued for a while, a relaxing back-and-forth that eased me into the comfort of our growing friendship, while the hope of our potential relationship bloomed slowly inside me. The troubles from earlier in the evening were almost forgotten.

Until she abruptly stopped responding. While I waited, I picked up my book and got to the end of a chapter, glancing every few minutes at our chat.

“Guess he woke up.”

Admittedly, I’d have to get used to this, but my frustration gnawed hot at my insides. I could see where this relationship could take us, and I wanted to get there, but I wasn’t yet convinced I’d make it past all the moments like these.

With how happy talking to Rachael made me, it didn’t seem fair she’d be pulled away from me so often. Logic told me to be adult about this, to give her the space she needed and the grace in our interactions to ease her own worry about Connor’s interruptions.

But that logic would have to fight with the stubborn hurt in my heart. Surely, this wasn’t happening because she didn’t care enough about me and our relationship, right?

Right?