Page 62 of Those Two Words

And perhaps this was where we were always supposed to end up.

twenty-six

PATRICK

Walking into my living room and finding Jo and Lottie playing together was a sight to behold. Never in all my years since becoming a dad, did I expect to see those two interacting. Hearing Jo speak to Lottie with kindness, showing her patience, and making her laugh, makes me sad that I didn’t see it sooner.

I allowed myself to watch them for five minutes, and it pulled at the muscle in my chest, something that’s been happening a lot recently.It was only when they started to talk about me that I got curious and made myself known.

Which was fortunate, because it sounded like Lottie was trying to meddle in my love life again.

When I caught Jo looking at me with the same glow in her eyes that I saw at the bar, it lit me up. I could have easily changed into a dry T-shirt, but the appreciative look she gave me let me know I’d made the right call in not changing.

We spent the rest of the afternoon chilling in the living room, until Booth was able to come over and watch Lottie.

Originally, we planned to meet at Dough for pizza, but I made us all a late lunch. Instead, we grabbed coffees from Quinn and walked down Robin Road to the empty docks, with most boats still out for the afternoon. When we left the house, the sky was a clear blue, and in classic New England fashion, it’s now a dull gray. At least spring is in the air.

It’s always been Jo’s favorite season. Each year she would drag me out to Acadia National Park in the first week of April, the joy on her face was always the same when she took in the wildflowers for the first time each year. She swore she could smell the maple in the air. I smelled it, too, it was just more fun to tell her that I couldn’t and watch her get all worked up and sulky.

Aprils haven’t been the same since she’s been gone.

Though we’re not out in the park, she still has a wistful look on her face as she takes in the breathtaking view.

The landscape surrounding us is beautiful, but it holds nothing to Johanna.

It started to drizzle when we got out of her car, and a few strands of hair have escaped her bun and are stuck to her forehead. The misty rain clings to her lashes and fine hairs around her hairline. My attention is drawn to the opening of her coat that reveals her delicate collarbone, decorated with freckles and water droplets. Sparkling constellations across her soft skin.

“Thanks for watching Lottie today, she had a great time.”

“She’s so great, Patrick. You’ve got your hands full for sure. You and Carrie should be so proud.”

“Thank you. We’re pretty fond of her by now. No returns,” I joke, and her breathy laugh carries with the wind, mixing with the calls of sea birds circling above. They dip and dive into the water, which encourages me to take the plunge too.

“I know things have been complicated over the last couple of weeks. My life is a bit chaotic, from Lottie to the restaurant and everything that happened with my dad. It just never seemed to stop. Having you here has helped a lot. You’ve already made so many amazing changes in a short time, things I’ve struggled to find time for. I want you to know that it’s great having you back…in more ways than one. The restaurant is all I have left of my dad, and while you’ve been gone, it’s where I put a lot of my time and energy if I wasn’t with Lottie. I didn’t mean to suggest that the restaurant is a higher priority than you, I’m sorry for suggesting that, but I can’t lose it. I also need to think of Lottie, I don’t want to confuse her.”

And I can’t lose you again. Though I don’t say that part out loud.

“This is all pretty new to me. I haven’t, umm, dated at all since Lottie was born. I’m not proposing some friends-with-benefits nonsense, Christ knows I’m too old for that, and maybe I’m selfish, but I want to stay in this bubble together for a while longer. Taking the time to find our way and not having our nosy families getting involved. We never got the chance to see where this could go before…”

Finally taking a breath from that word vomit, I study her, looking for a sign I’ve upset her, or this isn’t what she wants. Her face and body language have been indecipherable this entire time. I scratch my jaw, feeling more vulnerable for every second that passes.

When she still hasn’t spoken, I accept that Saturday night was about her getting it out of her system. She was the one who suggested it be a one-time thing. Maybe I’ve massively overstepped, or she’s changed her mind.

“I think everything you’ve said is fair.” She interrupts my racing thoughts. “I would never expect you to put me before Lottie. And I agree about the restaurant. We can’t let ourselves get distracted from all the hard work we’re putting in. Plus, I like the idea of it being between us.”

She reaches out, grabs hold of my arm, and we stop walking. The heat of her touch sears through the flannel of my shirt. Her eyes drop, and I know she’s about to say something that makes her uncomfortable as her fingers tap against her coffee cup incessantly.

“I owe you answers, Patrick.” I go to speak, but she shakes her head and lightly squeezes my arm to stop me. “Don’t. I do, and it’s not fair for you to pretend I didn’t abandon everyone all those years ago.” Her voice cracks at her words, and it takes all my restraint not to pull her into me. “I’ll explain everything. I want to. Being open and vulnerable about certain things is still difficult for me. It has nothing to do with me not trusting you. I feel safe with you.”

“Are you saying ‘it’s you and not me?’” I joke, but to hear that she feels safe with me is a badge of honor I will wear proudly. “When you’re ready, I’ll listen.” There are so many reasons I want to hear what she has to say, and some of them are selfish. Sure, I was angry once upon a time, however, from the small snippets of details she’s told me, it was wrong of me to presume she left this town happily.

I hate that it doesn’t put my mind at ease that if I had just been enough for her, she wouldn’t have left.

I want to move forward. Together. My heart might want to dive in headfirst, but I have to think about Lottie, and as much as I trust her, I don’t want to rush into this.

So for now, we’ll take one step at a time.

“Does this make me your dirty little secret?”

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