Page 63 of The Proximity Factor

“Why would you say that?” I asked.

Mrs. Davenport gave me a thoughtful glance. “She’s changed. Or maybe it’s just me finally being able to admit that my girl needs to spread her wings beyond the town limits. I believe she stayed because she thought she had no other choice and it’s what she was expected to do. I’m not even sure she realized it.”

“Why would she think that? She’s the most capable person I’ve ever met.”

Mrs. Davenport smiled. “I knew there was something different about you, Parker Remington.”

“How so?”

“You’re the first man to see Lanie for who she really is. It has opened her eyes to see that woman too. Now that she has, I don’t think Goldenville will hold her much longer.”

“What would she do?” I asked before thinking.

Mrs. Davenport gave me a wry grin. “I suppose a lot of that depends on you, doesn’t it?”

I gripped the edge of the metal bleachers, feeling the impact of those words. To think I held any part of Lanie’s future in my hands made me feel both honored and overcome, as if someone had dropped the weight of the world on me. There could be nothing flippant about how I proceeded with that knowledge.

“So, what are you going to do, Parker?” Mrs. Davenport challenged me.

That was a good question. The only response I could give her was, “Proceed with care and caution.”

Her nod told me I wouldn’t end up in a Reba McEntire song. Yet.

I SQUINTED AT THE WORDS on this week’s questionnaire, not sure at first if I’d read them right. I was ready for the regular nosy questions about intimacy. Honestly, I thought for sure this week they would be so bold as to ask if we were sleeping together and have me rate it. But no. Instead, this message awaited me:

As Study 19.A.2024-568 comes to a close in two weeks, we would like to give you the opportunity during this video diary to articulate any questions you may have for our research team when we meet on August 24, at 2:00 p.m., to discuss the findings of this experiment.

Please note next week’s final diary entry will take two to three hours to complete, so please plan accordingly. As always, please do not discuss the questionnaires or diary entries with Parker or anyone with whom you associate. It is vital to the study that this information remains confidential until such time as we can validate our findings.

This was weird—weirder than Parker had been acting since last night’s game. Not only was he studying me intently any chance he could, but whenever we touched, he was so gentle—almost like he could break me at any moment. He’d also been asking me all sorts of questions about where I saw myself in five years professionally and personally, like he was one of the researchers. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to answer. Or maybe I was just too afraid to admit it wasn’t where I’d pictured myself ten weeks ago when this experiment started. To say I wanted something different than coaching cheer and staying in my hometown felt like I was betraying my roots and family. Maybe even myself. In no way was I ashamed of my life ... but I didn’t think I was going to be satisfied going back to the life I had before this experience. It was scary to think about.

I’d asked Mama what she’d said to Parker at the game last night. But she just gave me a look that said, Don’t you worry about it. Well, I was worried. Very, very worried. What had she done to my Parker? And what was all this nonsense about the video diary taking two to three hours next week? Was it like a final exam? Did I need to study for the study?

With all these vital questions swirling in my head, I forgot I was being recorded. I cleared my throat, flustered. “Um ... what questions do I have for you?” The only thoughts that popped into my head were: “What was this all for? Did any of it make a difference? Did I save anyone’s world?”

Or did I just change mine?

“STOP ACTING LIKE AN IDIOT,” I berated myself before logging into the portal. “Don’t ruin these last two weeks of living with Lanie. We have plenty of time to figure out our lives together,” I reminded myself. But Mrs. Davenport’s words wouldn’t leave me. She was daring me, but I wasn’t a daring person. I couldn’t afford to be. Dating Lanie was already an enormous leap of faith for me. For her, I’d welcomed in the midlife crisis with open arms. As much as my friends liked her, they were already making jokes at my expense, razzing me that they hoped Lanie knew the signs of stroke and heart attack, like I was some guy in my seventies dating a woman in her twenties.

Regardless, I checked with Lanie to see if she knew the signs of stroke and heart attack. She informed me she did, as well as knowing CPR, so we were all set on that front.

I wanted things to work out between Lanie and me. I did. But after being divorced, it seemed only prudent to take things slowly. Even if there were times I’d look at Lanie and think, To hell with logic. I’d do whatever she wanted, even if that meant working together and getting married right away so we could start having those three to four kids. Anything she wanted. But then my brain would kick in and remind me of all the reasons it wasn’t a good idea.

I’d known Maren for so much longer than I’d known Lanie, and I still hadn’t known her well enough to realize that I would never be enough for her. How would anyone ever be good enough for Lanie? Not to say she was perfect, what with her music choices, bottles and bottles of shampoo, and throw pillows. But never had I wanted anyone as much as I wanted her. And there wasn’t another person on earth who made me feel as wanted as Lanie made me feel. Just a look from her said: You belong. That was her magic—she made everyone around her know they had a place in this world.

How could you ever be enough for a person like that?

I didn’t have an answer for that, so I finished logging into the portal, eager to get back to Lanie. To my surprise and relief, no intrusive, asinine questionnaire awaited. Instead, I got this:

As Study 19.A.2024-568 comes to a close in two weeks, we would like to give you the opportunity during this video diary to articulate any questions you may have for our research team when we meet on August 24, at 2:00 p.m., to discuss the findings of this experiment.

Please note next week’s final diary entry will take two to three hours to complete, so please plan accordingly. As always, please do not discuss the questionnaires or diary entries with Lanie or anyone with whom you associate. It is vital to the study that this information remains confidential until such time as we can validate our findings.

While I got off easy this week, I was now dreading the following week. Two to three hours? For what? I wondered.

As far as questions for them, I wasn’t sure I had any. Normally, I would have confirmed they were going to pay me, but I didn’t care about that anymore, and not just because my company was doing well. Lanie had made me reevaluate my reasons for doing this experiment in the first place. I almost told them they could keep their money, because getting paid for this experience would cheapen it.

I stared blankly at the screen for a minute, trying to think of something to ask them. The only question that kept coming to me, though, was one no one could answer for me.

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