“That’s harder than it sounds.” His thumb rubs circles on the back of my hand and I can hardly process what he’s saying. “This is how I’m going to stop you from underestimating yourself. First, I’m going to see to it that you know how amazing you are every day. Next, any time you bash yourself I’m going to call you out, because nobody’s allowed to talk to you that way. Not even yourself, Sunshine.”
“That’s a pretty serious undertaking.” His plan leaves me breathless. I don’t know where this complicated, deep ocean of a man came from, but he’s pulling me under with his promises.
“I’m serious about it. That boy is lucky to have you and I know he adores you. Anyone can see that, but maybe it’s time that someone takes care of you for a while.”
The air around is charged by his offer and I want to gulp the energy in giant breaths until it burns away my reservations. “I don’t have a great track record with caregivers.”
“Neither do I.” The sadness is back in his fathomless eyes and the urge to wrap my body around his to shield him from the pain is overwhelming. “We don’t need to share our sad stories. We can both fill in the blanks. But that’s why we can take care of one another, because we can see what’s missing.”
I bite my lip, torn between nodding and pulling my hand away. Jude makes the decision for me. He relinquishes my hand and reaches for the fortune cookies at the edge of the table.
“Maybe we’re overthinking this,” he suggests, tossing me one.
“Are we going to find the meaning of life in here?” I tear off the cellophane wrapper, but before I can break it open, Jude grabs my hand.
“There’s a method,” he explains. “Break.”
I crack it open and wait for the next step.
“Now you pull off the first half and eat it while you read your fortune cookie in your head.”
I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “I think there were less steps in the actual crafting of this cookie.”
“Do you want your fortune to come true?” he challenges me.
“That depends. I’ve had some shitty fortunes.”
The corner of his mouth tugs up but he continues. “Then you eat the other half and exchange fortunes with me to read.”
“Anything else? Is their footwork involved?” I tease.
Jude doesn’t answer. Instead he cracks open his cookie and begins the bizarre ritual. I find myself hurrying to keep up. As I chew I turn my fortune over:
We write our own stories.
So it’s more of a motivational poster than a fortune, but not bad. I pop the other half in my mouth and lock eyes with Jude. The trouble with these cookies is that it takes forever to break down the dry Styrofoam and I almost choke on it when I start to giggle. Everything about the moment is ludicrous and sweet.
It’s perfect.
We pass the tiny slips to each other and I read his, “A bird in the pan is better than two in the bush.”
Laughter bursts out of me.
“Worst fortune ever, right?” He joins in. “Yours is lovely.”
“Oh c’mon. It’s cheesy.”
“Only if you let it be.”
He won’t let me chip in on the bill, but he agrees that I can get our next dinner. Watching as he packs up the leftovers, I let the idea of a next time sink in, and I can’t deny I want there to be one. I shouldn’t. It’s messy, especially given the pasts we’ve both avoided discussing. Can two people really leave their mistakes behind? I can’t decide if I want to—not if its memory keeps me from screwing up again. Jude doesn’t press me to talk as he drives me home. This time he drives carefully, allowing me to focus on my thoughts. When we reach my house, he walks me to the door.
It’s an old-fashioned gesture, but it makes my heart race.
“You’re the only guy who’s ever walked me to the door,” I tell him.
“That is a tragedy.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers trail down my cheek and trace along my jaw.
My lips part instinctively.
Jude moves closer, his lips brushing against my ear. “I’m not going to kiss you again until you ask.”
How could he shift from being sweet to totally infuriating so quickly? “You’re going to be waiting a very long time.”
I try to ignore the fact that by taking this stance, I’ll be waiting along with him. Fumbling for the doorknob behind me, I clutch it and hope he gives in first.
“Maybe I’ll make you kiss me, Sunshine.” His breath tickles my neck and his mouth is close enough that I know exactly what I’m missing.
“Then you’re going to be waiting even longer.” I open the door and slip into the house. If he thinks I’m going to go easy on him, he’s got another thing coming. I want to believe all his sugar-coated promises, but it’s best he discovers now that I’m a tough pill to swallow.
Chapter 10
At group I’m met with concerned faces and hugs, both of which make me feel awkward. There’s no way to reassure everyone that I’m okay. I suppose it’s the natural tendency in this situation. A person disappears and you assume the worst, but for the first time in years I don’t feel like I’m hanging on to life from behind. I’m not being dragged along. I’m the one in charge. I don’t even need my cup of coffee.
Stephanie stops me before I can take a seat. “If you need to talk.”