Kiss and Don't Tell(68)
“Did you ever make dinner together?”
She shakes her head. “No, I always thought it would be fun to take one of those dinner classes together, but he said it was stupid, and why take a class when I already knew how to cook? I tried to explain to him that it was about doing something fun with the person you love. He didn’t get it; he had already pulled away by then.” She looks off to the side. “At the end of our relationship, we barely kissed. I asked him if he ever cheated on me and he said no. He might have distanced himself, but he never cheated.”
“What a hero,” I mutter.
“What’s that?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. Your turn to ask a question.”
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?”
“No, not really. I mean, nothing serious. I’ve dated a few girls here and there, but I wouldn’t say I ever had someone I would call a girlfriend. And it’s not because I have a fear of commitment, just haven’t found anyone I really want to call mine, you know?”
“So, you’re not opposed to commitment?” she asks.
“That’s two questions.” I smirk.
“Hey, I answered more about Josh.”
I nudge her knee. “Just teasing. And I would actually prefer to be in a relationship at this point. I know twenty-seven isn’t old, but it’s old enough for me to realize that picking up random girls at bars and having one-night stands really isn’t for me anymore. I want the companionship, the feeling of not being alone. I want to be able to call my girl after a shit game and just listen to her tell me about her day to make me feel better. I want to come home from an away game to a smile and open arms, not a cold, sterile apartment. Just haven’t been able to put the time into finding that special someone.” I glance at her.
“I can understand that. After this last year, I can completely commiserate with being alone. It’s not fun. Yes, I have Max and Katherine—”
“But it’s different,” I say.
She nods. “Very different. They’re friends. Yes, they listen and they keep me company, but there’s something different when you’re with someone. The human touch is something special, something I crave. Having someone hold my hand, or just look at me differently than as a friend, it matters.”
“I’m starting to see the importance of that.”
She smirks and her cheeks blush. “You talking about me?”
“Yeah, I am.” I pop a piece of cheese in my mouth, followed by a few pistachios.
“I appreciate the honesty.” She picks up some pistachios, as well, and says, “Your turn to ask a question.”
“Dream life—if you could paint it, where would you be, in this exact moment?”
Instead of answering right away, she gives it some thought, and when she’s ready to talk, her eyes land on her lap and she speaks softly. “I’d probably be taking some homemade lemonade out to my cute backyard that I share with my husband. We’d live in a bungalow, because I think they’re absolutely adorable. The backyard would be full of greenery that I’ve spent hours pruning and weeding. We’d have a firepit in the backyard with cedar Adirondack chairs. Sitting in one of them would be my mom. Sitting in another would be my husband. They would be talking, laughing, and reminding me how lucky I am to have them in my life.” Her eyes meet mine. “I know it’s simple, but it’s the one thing I wish I could still have, the opportunity for my husband and my mom to talk. I know that will never happen and it makes me sad. My mom will never know who I end up with, she’ll never meet my children. It’s just . . . sad.”
“I think that’s the perfect dream,” I say as I reach out and take her hand in mine.
“And I know she’s looking down on me, watching over me, but it’s not the same.”
“I get it.”
The smallest of smiles pulls at her lips. “I do think she had something to do with me getting lost, though, the first night. Or at least brought me here.”
“Yeah?” I ask, forgetting about the food now, completely transfixed by Winnie. “How so?”
“She was never a super fan of Josh. I mean, she was in the beginning, when he was attentive, but toward the end, she saw the mental toll the relationship took on me—you’ve experienced it as well—and she told me I deserved better. One of her biggest fears was that I was going to be alone, since my dad passed when I was young and I don’t have any siblings.” Winnie shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s just convenient, is all, that I end up in a house with a bunch of guys that she’d drool over. It’s her ideal meet-cute. She was really into that.”
“Do you think out of the five guys in the house, she’d have picked me for you?”
Winnie smirks. “I want to say yes, but I’ve a feeling she’d have gravitated to someone else.”
I sit taller. “Who?”
“You can’t hold it against him.”
“I’ll do as I please. Now, tell me, who would your mom think is better than me?”
“Not better, per se, but I think she’d have just pictured me with someone more like my dad.”
“Uh-huh, and who would that be? If you say Taters, I’m throwing this cheese platter into the wall.”