“Oh, it was. Believe me.”
She sighed. “Anyway, from everything you describe, it sounds like an idyllic life. Delicious Italian meals every night, all the bread you could eat, getting to grow up with grandparents around who lived in the same house.” She paused and looked deeply into my eyes. “But I’m sure it wasn’t easy growing up without a mom.”
A tension built in my chest. If anyone knew what that might have been like, it was Aspyn. Because she was raising a kid in that exact situation.
“It wasn’t easy,” I agreed, choosing not to get into it more right now. I didn’t want to ruin the mood of this evening. Instead, I shifted the topic. “I know you can understand that because of Kiki.”
“Yup. No matter how much love I give her, I can never replace her mom. That’s just the way it is.”
I wanted to ask what had happened to her sister, but again, I felt like it wasn’t the right time. That would make me feel obligated to talk about my mother. And I wasn’t ready to go there. But for some reason, tonight made me feel like I could go there. Aspyn would understand, and she was a good listener. I could’ve stayed here all night talking to her—just not about my mother.
“Does your dad still live in the house you grew up in?” she asked.
“When Nonno went into assisted living, my dad and he sold the house. I was living in Seattle by that time. My father bought his own place, which is where I’m staying now.”
“I see.” She sipped her tea.
“Do you own your house or rent?” I asked.
“I own it. Barely cover my mortgage every month, but I’m somehow making it work.”
“Good for you. It’s smart to own. And it’s a nice little place. Very homey. Even if the last memory I have of it is getting attacked there.”
“Sorry again about the water gun.”
“Maybe one of these days you’ll invite me over for black coffee and air, and I can show Kiki I’m not really the bogeyman.”
She nodded, clearly not committing to anything.
Over dinner, we fell into more easy conversation. She asked me about my college experience at the University of Florida and why I went into finance. I told her a little about my life in Seattle. She talked some more about what it was like helping to raise her niece. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve said this night felt an awful lot like a damn good date. But I wasn’t going to ruin it by insinuating anything. Despite getting along for at least one night—and despite the fact that I couldn’t help noticing how the lights in here caught her green eyes—I knew Aspyn and I likely couldn’t ever be anything more than friends. Her accepting me as a friend was the best-case scenario. And that sucked because tonight had made me realize how much I liked her.
Fuck.
I really like her.
Aspyn
On Monday at work, one of the nurses, Shala, asked about my date this past weekend. As we ate lunch in the dining room, I filled her in on what had happened and how I ended up actually having dinner with Troy Serrano. My failed date had essentially turned into a date with Troy, and I still didn’t understand how I truly felt about that. I’d had a good time with him, though. That was undeniable.
Shala was all too amused by my story.
“Honestly, what are the chances?” she said. “It’s like you can’t get away from the guy. I love it, though.”
“I know. And it turned out to be a pretty nice dinner.”
It was the first time I’d been able to spend time with Troy without dwelling on the past. I’d gotten lost in conversation—and a little lost in his gorgeous eyes at times.
“Sounds like you dodged a bullet with that Brian, too.”
I nodded. “Without a doubt. It’s always nice when someone shows their true colors off the bat. Saves you time wasted. Although, I wasn’t attracted to him in person, so it likely wouldn’t have gone anywhere even if he’d turned out to be a stand-up guy.”
“Physical attraction is important.” She took a bite of her sandwich and chewed. “Speaking of attractive, what about Troy? What are his true colors? Do you think he’s still that jerk he was in high school?”
I shook my head. I hadn’t figured grown-up Troy out yet. “I’ve always been taught to believe that people don’t change. I can’t say there are never exceptions, though. But I don’t have enough current-day experience to deem him trustworthy.”
She shoveled some chips into her mouth. “That’s too bad, because he’s so damn good-looking.”
“If Troy were as trustworthy as he is hot, we certainly wouldn’t have a problem, now would we?” I chuckled.
We continued chatting as the subject changed from Troy to Kiki. Shala had three kids, one of whom was eight like my niece, so I often looked to her for advice.
Our conversation was interrupted when she looked over my shoulder. “Oh my. Look who’s here.”
I turned to find a smiling Troy walking toward our table.
I wiped the side of my mouth with my napkin. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think I’m doing here? I’m visiting my grandfather.”
“I know…but your days are usually Tuesdays and Thursdays.”
He pulled up a seat next to me. “It’s not an exact science, Dumont. Those aren’t the only days I ever come see him, just the days we go out. Sometimes I pop in at random times—bring him a donut or say hello during my lunch break.” He looked down at my empty plate. “What are you up to…eating?”
“Yeah.” I tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Just finishing up.” The hair on my arms stiffened; the way my body reacted when he was close definitely unnerved me.
“What’s going on the rest of the day here?” he asked.
“We’re doing a singalong later.”
“Nice. How does that work?” he asked.
“I play the piano and sing and everyone else…” I stopped, momentarily distracted by his…face.
“Sings along.” He grinned, finishing my sentence.
“Yeah.”
“What tunes?”
“We usually pick one band or artist and go through a number of songs from their catalog. Today it’s The Carpenters.”
He scratched his chin. “Oh yeah…the brother and sister from the seventies. Tragic how she died. What made you pick them?”
“Their songs are pretty easy to play, and they’re a fan favorite.”
Just then the facility director, Nancy, popped her head into the dining area. She asked if she could pick Troy’s brain about some financial questions. He agreed, and after he excused himself, I didn’t see him for the rest of the afternoon.
The singalongs, which we did a couple of times a week, were usually held at 3 PM. I liked that they made the last hour of my shift go by pretty fast.