Page 3 of Everything I Want

A smile spreads across my face, chasing out any anxiety left from the dream as I clutch my phone to my chest, like a lifeline to happiness.

I unplug my phone, and head downstairs to get coffee, grateful that I can hear movement in the kitchen. Lacey is already up with Oliver, getting him ready for school.

Memories of getting the girls ready in the morning flash through my mind. The chaos that ensued from having four girls getting ready at one time would be a welcomed feeling compared to the empty hollow feeling I have now .

Having my grandson with me is the biggest blessing of this holiday season. He brings back the magic of the season that only a child can possess.

Lacey hands me a cup of coffee. A frown etches on her face, “Mom, are you okay? You look like you’ve had a rough night.”

“Oh I’m fine darling, just another dream.” I shuffle to the refrigerator to get my coffee creamer.

“Mom. You need to go back to the therapist. Or at least tell Preston about your nightmares being back. You can’t keep going like this, not sleeping.” She shakes her head as she takes a sip of her coffee.

“I’ll be fine darling. What is your plan for the evening? I won’t be home for dinner, but I can fix you all something and leave it in the fridge if you like?”

“And where will you be this evening?” Lacey asks with a knowing smile that she hides with her coffee cup.

“Lacey, stop it. I am not some teenager. Scott and I are going to get a Christmas tree for the home. You know, as the friends we are, getting trees for the holiday in 25 days.” I play off the act like it isn’t a big deal. My girls’ concern for me only makes the guilt worse. On top of feeling guilty about dating again, I hate that my girls have worried so much over the years.

“Mom. You can admit you have feelings for Scott. We all know you do, including Scott. And based on my conversation with him last week, he absolutely has strong feelings for you,” she winks over the kitchen counter.

“What do you meanin your conversation?” I ask, trying to think back to when Scott & Lacey would have seen each other to chat.

“He stopped by the salon one day while Colton and I were there working. He asked about Dad’s 25 Dates of Christmas. So I can only assume that getting a tree tonight is his version to make you feel better about the holidays.”

Well. That’s surprising, I try to school my features while my heart flutters and not from the coffee.

She continues, “Mom, you need to stop feeling guilty and just accept what is happening with Scott. Let the relationship develop. Dad would not want you to live alone for the rest of your life, and Scott is a wonderful, caring man.”

She walks around the counter and hugs me.

“I know. I know. I just can’t help but feel guilty. I’ll work on it, I promise.” I return the hug but wonder if the guilt and grief will ever allow me to hold another man in my heart.

And I will try. I want to be happy again.

I stand in my bedroom, staring at a photo of Andrew and I in my hands.

“Andrew, I’m so sorry if you feel like I’m betraying you. I love you so much. But I need to be happy,” I whisper to him with unshed tears threatening to fall.

I lean down and place a kiss on the photo before heading downstairs to the drama that my girls have created when Lacey told them all about mydatewith Scott.

I have not been this nervous around a man since I started dating my husband 35 years ago. Even though Scott and I have gone out many times, this time feels different, feelings are on the line and that line of friendship is being pushed.

Our first date. My first, first date since Andrew. If that’s what this is. Maybe Scott is just doing something kind, but if I listen to my girls this is definitely a first date. The first time we will be meeting without using work as a guise for the night.

I am going to stop worrying. If it’s a date I’m going to let it be one.

I’ve changed my outfit three times at the urging of my girls. No matter how I feel about this date, or not a date, with Scott, spending time with the girls and seeing them happy, gives me a boost of serotonin on this emotional rollercoaster that I’ve been on all day. Now I only have about thirty seconds until Scott gets here.

No more time for nerves, Lorelei.

The doorbell rings and the girls squeal with excitement.

Each one hugs me as I pass by on my way to the front door. I steady myself and take a deep breath before opening the door.

When I see Scott standing there in his dark jeans, boots, and flannel shirt, I suck in a breath. At 55 years old he is still breathtakingly gorgeous. Especially in that lumber jack way my girls all insist is the most sought out look on a man nowadays.

Andrew was classically handsome, always put together, clean shaven, hair cut short and swept to the side. But Scott has that rugged look, complete with a beard. Which is something I didn’t think I’d ever find attractive, but here I am, swooning.

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