Till Death(18)

“It’s not just seeing him. I mean, I am a little nervous.” I walked over to the chair near the desk and plopped down. “I haven’t been to a restaurant in this town in a very long time. I haven’t even gone out in public.”

“I told her earlier that no one would even pay attention to her,” Mom announced. “That she had nothing to worry about.”

I looked up to see Mom coming down the main staircase, her hand trailing along the railing. “I know I have nothing to worry about and I’m being irrational, but let me have my irrationality.”

Miranda arched a brow in Mom’s direction. “How about that makes no sense?”

“Whatever,” I muttered, checking the phone. No messages. “I might drink an entire bottle of wine with dinner.”

“I don’t have a problem with that. I’m driving.” Miranda grinned. “Plus the place is like a mile, if that, down the street, so we both can drink and stumble our way back here.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said as I reached into the drawer and pulled out my purse. I checked my phone, making sure it had good battery life. “Also good if I want to leave and you can—”

“First off, you’re not going to want to leave until you’ve finished the thick, juicy rib eye that they serve and ordered their chocolate lava cake,” Miranda stated, and my stomach grumbled in anticipation. “Secondly, if you want to get out of there early, I’m going to leave with you.”

“She’s not going to want to leave.” Mom leaned against the desk. “She’s going to go, eat that steak, the dessert, drink the wine, and enjoy herself.”

Taking a deep breath, I smiled as my mom stared at me as if she could will her faith into the very core of my being. The nervousness I was feeling was understandable, but it was the razor-sharp edge of the unease that tasted a little like panic. That feeling had been building all day, and it was ridiculous. It was irrational, and I totally knew that. Which was why I was going out tonight like a normal, well-adapted twenty-nine-year-old.

“I want you to do me a favor,” Mom asked of Miranda as I stood, sliding the strap of my bag up my forearm. “Convince her to call—”

“Mom,” I snapped.

“—Cole,” she finished, ignoring me. “Because I can’t believe my daughter has that man’s phone number and isn’t making that phone call.”

Oh my God.

Miranda’s eyes glimmered. “So, he was really hot then?”

“Oh yes. I’m half tempted to get that card and call him myself,” Mom said. “You should’ve seen how he aged, Miranda. That boy is now a man.”

Oh my God.

Miranda laughed loudly. “I really need to see what he looks like now.”

Smoothing a hand over her hair, Mom nodded. “Oh yes, you do need to see him. He was wearing this flannel shirt, and while that’s not an attractive article of clothing on most men, it made—”

“All right. It’s time for us to leave.” I came around the desk and kissed Mom’s cheek. “Do you need anything while I’m out?”

“Just for you to have a good time,” she replied.

I pulled back, smiling. Damn, I was so lucky to have her as my mom. So damn lucky. Saying goodbye, I followed Miranda out into the chilly evening air. Her red Volkswagen Jetta was parked where mine had been before someone decided it needed a glass renovation. After the insurance agent came out, I figured my car would be back to the way it should be by the end of the week.

Climbing into Miranda’s car was like stepping back into the past. Me in the passenger seat. Her car smelling like crisp apples thanks to the scent diffusers. I glanced over my shoulder as she rounded the front of the car and grinned. An entire week’s worth of cardigans and ponchos covered the backseat.

Just like before.

Miranda was oddly quiet as she pulled out of the driveway and coasted to a stop at the end of the drive. “You know we’re giving you a hard time about the Cole thing, right?” she said, and I looked over. Her eyes were squinted as she focused on the road. “Of course your mom and I would love to see you reconnect with him, but we understand why you’d be hesitant.”

I swallowed as I nodded. “I know.”

“I know you’ve dated,” Miranda said, and there was a long pause before she continued. “But I also know you never really allowed those relationships to go anywhere serious.”

Flipping my gaze to the road, I bit down on the inside of my cheek as Miranda pulled out into traffic. I’d dated and those relationships had progressed to sex. The first time after . . . after the Groom had been my senior year at Florida State, and it was a disaster—I’d been a complete emotional mess afterward, but the hang-ups faded as the years moved on. Miranda was right though. The dates never really went beyond a month. I wasn’t sure why.

“I’ve thought about Cole’s offer all day yesterday and most of today,” I admitted.

I’d thought about it so much I was driving myself a little crazy, but seeing Cole had thrown me off. Truthfully, thinking about him wasn’t something new, but the idea of talking to him, seeing him again, had been a pipe dream, a silly little fantasy that I entertained late at night when I couldn’t sleep.

And when I did let my mind wander there, I imagined that we’d talk about our careers and discover that we still had a connection. He’d kiss me, and I wouldn’t . . . I wouldn’t think of him. In other versions, we’d meet and he’d be happily married with kids, and I’d be sad but satisfied that he was doing okay. It never had been a real possibility, and now that it was, when there was a chance to talk about our careers and what the past ten years had meant for us, I couldn’t wrap my head around it.