Second First Impressions(70)
“I can’t stop thinking about you. One in the bag, beautiful.” Teddy holds up a hand for me to high-five. I can’t slap it; Melanie is too scary for me to risk it. Lowering it back down, he says, “What, aren’t I a guy?”
He looks into my eyes and now we’re traveling back in time; I’m straddling him, I’m kissing him until his breath catches in his chest and his hands tighten on my body—
“You’re absolutely not a guy.” Melanie is sick of this. “Your constant attempts to derail this to keep the attention on yourself are really annoying.” Stacked beside her on the blanket are an assortment of what are presumably her reference books, their titles including:
? True Love and Astrology
? His Aura, Her Aura, Their Aura
? Crystals for Luck, Love, and Sexual Energy
? Best Baby Names
The last one is a worry, and it’s full of purple sticky tabs. “I have warned you about getting carried away.” I pull it out of the stack.
“What the hell,” Teddy echoes faintly when he reads the spine.
She shakes her head. “No, no. I’m looking up the names of the guys I’m messaging for you.”
I open to a tab and scan down the page, searching for a clue. A faint pencil mark is beside a name and I read it out. “Paul. ‘Small, humble, restrained.’ ”
She shrugs. “I decided he’s no good for you.”
I lower the book. “Just so I’m clear. You’re choosing guys for me based on the meaning of their name?”
She nods like that’s not very, very strange. “My top pick for you on MatchUp is Brendan. That means sword, which is kinda hot.”
Teddy flops down onto his back, wriggles, and puts his head on my lap. Side note— I’m wearing new tight jeans. To the office. On a Friday. And they made Teddy go shy for a bit. With his heavy head on my legs, he looks up at the baby book in my hands.
I would bet a billion dollars that I know what he’ll say next. What else would someone so in love with themselves say next? I’m already leafing through to the letter T. From my lap, Teddy says, “Tell me what Ruthie means.”
A billion dollars down the drain. I gape down at him.
Teddy reaches out sideways to turn TJ again. I privately think that TJ wants to keep walking and would be perfectly fine if he did. But Teddy is truly devoted to his little friend. He’s amended the lyrics of his bellowed shower song to “Wondershell.” He’s asked me, is it possible to keep TJ? Fairchild is crazy close to the Reptile Zoo. Twenty-five minutes. I could put him in day care. Did you know that, Ruthie, how close it is to where I’ll be?
Melanie says, “I know it sounds insane, but I think that people are a lot like their name meaning. Like, Melanie means black. And look.” She holds her black ponytail up like proof. “I’ve ruled out a few contenders that couldn’t go through to the next round. One guy’s name meant dairy man. Can you even imagine?”
I think of all the possibilities she’s probably deleted. “I am lucky anyone wants to message me at all, but you’re ruling out Paul because his name means small? He could be seven feet tall.” Out of the corner of my eye, Teddy’s legs stretch. “He could be my soul mate, and you just decided based on an ancient name meaning?”
Melanie shakes her head. “I asked him. He was five two.”
Teddy takes the book from me and my hands drop into my lap/his hair. Melanie doesn’t seem to notice, so I’ll just untangle this one messy section. It’s like knitting. Something repetitive and soothing to occupy myself with in the evenings, on the couch as Heaven Sent fills me with that scrummy kind of comfy nostalgia.
Threading my fingers through Teddy’s hair is an addictive action that I can do for hours.
He flips through the book. “R. Let’s see. Rhiannon, Rhonda, Rose— ” On that last one, he stumbles. “Rowena, Rukmini, Ruth.” He reads the definition and lowers the book. “Uncanny. You know what, Mel? You could write a sequel to the Sasaki Method. Whittle down your romantic options according to name meanings. I believe it now.”
She’s smug. “I’ve already got the title. The Sasaki Meaning.”
Teddy and I say in perfect, disbelieving unison: “Holy shit.”
“So what’s Ruth mean?” She’s preparing to be cheeky, that much is clear. Once upon a time, seeing this impending joke at my expense would have had me battening down the hatches. Now, I’m smiling. I’m having another one of those where-am-I moments. Friends, picnic, lake, sunset.
She delivers her zinger. “Let me guess. Ruth means administrator.”
I throw a pizza crust at her head. “It means employer.”
Teddy reads out of the baby book: “Ruth.” He aims a big smile up at me and I feel it in my heart. “Kind. Compassionate friend or companion.”
“Sexy, huh,” I say.
From this angle I can see he’s finished reading the description, but he keeps going.
“Brown-eyed sublime being. She of soft, deep cardigan pockets. Bubble-bath taker. Pool jumper. Cheese provider. Sunset glower. Heaven sent.”
It’s the loveliest description of me I have ever heard. I pass my hand through his beautiful hair. “That’s more interesting than the original meaning. Being both a Ruth and a Virgo has been my cross to bear.”