A Curve in the Road(69)

Suddenly I feel a need to change the subject. I don’t want to talk about my marriage anymore, and I’m sure Nathan doesn’t either.

“How about you?” I ask. “What else is new in your life? Your girls are adorable, by the way.”

He grins and tells me about their latest achievements and shenanigans. Then we discuss what it’s like to have parents who are growing older. We talk about all sorts of other things too, and time flies by. Suddenly the restaurant is closing. We’re the last guests to leave.

Later, when Nathan drives me home, he gets out and walks me to the front door, which I find very gallant.

“I had a nice time,” he says as we stand under the bright porch light.

A brief moment of awkwardness ensues, because I’m not sure if he intends to kiss me good night. I suspect he wants to. It’s obvious there’s still an attraction between us.

Yet, I’m nervous about what it might mean if we kiss, because I have a feeling there would be no turning back after that. He’s an amazing man, and I admit . . . I’m a bit infatuated.

Still . . . I’m not sure I’m ready, and I want very much to be ready. I want to be 100 percent prepared to dash out of the gate full speed ahead when the moment presents itself.

“I had a nice time too,” I reply.

Nathan studies my expression. “I’m not sure if it’s too soon, but I’d love to see you again while you’re in town. Maybe we could go to a movie or walk our dogs or something. No pressure, though. I don’t want to rush you.”

He’s reading my mind . . .

“I’d like that,” I reply.

“Great.”

There’s another awkward pause, and then he leans closer and kisses me softly on the cheek—a slow, lingering kiss that sends a wave of heat into my core.

All along, my feelings for Nathan have been an exercise in denial, but now, standing before him under my mother’s porch light with the sensation of his kiss still warm on my cheek, I feel the enormity of my desires and realize there can be no more denying it. I want this man, overwhelmingly.

“Good night, Abbie,” Nathan says with a flirtatious glimmer in his eye.

As he walks down the steps, I feel bowled over by how unbelievably attractive he is—that fit, athletic build and confident swagger as he walks.

He stops at the bottom of my mother’s stairs, looks up at me again, and smiles. My body melts, but somehow I manage to stay on my feet.

He inclines his head curiously. “Any chance you might want to join me and the girls tomorrow night to walk the dogs?” He explains himself further. “Life is short. Like I said, I don’t want to rush you, but I also don’t like to waste time.”

“Neither do I,” I reply with a laugh, and I feel a deep and soulful understanding between us. We both know what it means to love and lose someone but to somehow find the strength to keep on living. “Text me when you’re heading out?”

“I will.”

With that, he gets into his car and drives off.

I go inside the house to find my mother on the sofa, acting nonchalant, waiting to hear everything. It’s kind of like being in high school again, and I revel in the afterglow of my first date in over twenty years.

I kick off my shoes, sit down beside her, and tell her about my evening.

“He really does seem like a wonderful man,” Mom says. “And he’s not hard on the eyes either.”

I laugh, and we watch TV in silence for a few minutes. Then I turn to her again.

“Mom, why didn’t you ever remarry after Dad died? Did you ever think about it?”

She considers my question with a sigh. “Oh, looking back on it, I think I probably worshipped your father too much. I figured that I’d already had the best. Anything else would have been a disappointment.” She waves a hand through the air. “And I was far too romantic about my grief as a widow. I thought it would be disloyal if I was ever with someone else—like I was cheating on your father, because I’d vowed to love him forever.” She turns her gaze back to the TV. “I still do love him, but I’ve been alone for more than twenty years, and sometimes I regret that I didn’t find someone to spend the rest of my life with. It would have been nice to have a partner and go traveling. I always wanted to see Venice. I might have, if I’d had someone.”

“I’ll go to Venice with you,” I tell her. “Just say the word, and we’re there.”

She turns to me and smiles. “That’s good to know. I’ll file that offer away.”

We gaze back at the TV again. “Rome would be pretty amazing too,” I mention.

“For sure.”

“Let’s think about it.”

“Okay,” she replies. “We’ll do that.”

Over the next few days, I spend time with Nathan, his girls, and the dogs. On Thursday evening, he invites me to watch Jen’s basketball game at the junior high school, and then we all go out for supper. The weather is crisp and sunny on Friday, so we take the dogs for another walk along the nature trails at the Ovens Natural Park, where we gaze in awe at the breathtaking sea caves in the cliffs.

All the while, I feel comfortable around Nathan, and my physical attraction to him grows more intense with each passing hour. As we stand at the rail, peering into Cannon Cave and listening to the tremendous boom of the waves as they explode onto the rocks inside the cavern, I find myself imagining what it would feel like to kiss Nathan again—to really kiss him, and not just on the cheek. I’m dying to find out, and I’m surprised that I’m not more fearful of those emotions. Maybe I’m closer to being ready than I think I am.