Page 19 of An Engagement Pact

I’m relieved by his suggestion. There’s no way I feel like going on a fake date today.

“Oh no, I can’t let you do that,” Esther says. “You’re young, and you need to have fun.”

“I’m not going to have much fun if I’m worried about you dealing with this mess,” I explain. “So we can help you clean up and wait for the plumber and then figure out what to do about the damage to the floor upstairs and the ceiling here.” When Esther looks like she’s going to argue some more, I add, “We can hang out this afternoon after everything is taken care of.”

“If you’re sure. We’d be just fine. We’re used to dealing with stuff on our own.”

“Savannah isn’t going to be happy you didn’t let her know about it unless you can tell her you already had all the help you needed.” I say that because it’s true and because I’m pretty sure it will settle the last of her objections.

It does. “I guess that’s true. She already does way too much for her old parents when she should be living her own life.”

“Maybe part of her life is being with you and Jim.” I give her arm a quick squeeze—she’s not a touchy person and would not appreciate a hug—and then step over to Dan. “We can probably manage on our own if you’d rather—”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he drawls. “You’re exactly like your aunt. You know that, right?”

Esther gets a good laugh out of that, and even I can’t help but smile. “Fine. You can help. As long as you can keep from being obnoxious about it.”

***

DAN ISN’T OBNOXIOUS, despite my teasing. He is, in fact, one of the least obnoxious men I’ve ever met. He’s in a good mood as he helps us finish cleaning the mess in the kitchen and then waits for the plumber and then calls up another of his friends for a recommendation on someone to fix the ceiling and floor.

By lunchtime the pipe is fixed, the water back on, the other work scheduled for Monday afternoon, and I’ve taken a shower and changed into jeans and a fitted white top. Esther insists on cooking us lunch, so we have chicken tortilla soup with cornbread. Dan appears to enjoy it as much as I do.

Esther and Jim are both thoroughly charmed by him. It’s impossible not to recognize that. They know our relationship is about money and won’t last, but they act like we’re a real couple.

It makes me uncomfortable. And gives me more of those same flutters I’ve been trying hard to obliterate.

After lunch, I expect Dan to leave since it’s been a tiring day already and there’s nothing left to do to fix the crisis. But he asks if I want to hang out in the park by the lake since it’s such a nice day.

I can think of no reason not to agree with that plan. He stops at one of the gourmet shops in town and buys some snacks for later, and then we take a leisurely stroll in the park and find a comfortable spot in the grass in the shade to hang out on a blanket for a while.

I read for a few minutes until I can’t keep my eyes open. Then I actually drift off into a light doze for almost an hour while Dan lounges beside me, listening to music through his earbuds.

When I finally wake up again, I’m embarrassed and disoriented, but there’s no reason to be. Dan acts like going to sleep on our “date” was the most natural thing in the world. We eat the grapes, bread, cheese, and light, fizzy wine he bought and chat about nothing consequential.

It’s a great afternoon after a morning that definitely could have been worse.

The last thing in the world I would have expected from the day.

“You were really good with Jim and Esther this morning,” I say after a minute of comfortable silence.

He turns those silvery-gray eyes back to my face. “You think so?”

“Yeah. I do. They’re as self-sufficient as I am, so I’m still not sure how you managed to get them to let you help them so much.”

“I’m glad I was able to help.” He pauses. “And I’m used to that kind of thing.”

“You are? Why? Were your parents like them?”

“Not exactly. But my mom has always been a little bit needy and my dad kind of disconnected, so it felt like I often picked up the slack. They got divorced when I was fifteen. My dad stayed in Green Valley, and I moved with my mom to Raleigh for a few years before she and my dad reconciled. So I think I’ve had a lot of practice in helping out with family without making a big deal about it.”

I think about that. Think about him. “You probably took good care of them, but who took care of you?”

His mouth twitches slightly, like he’s surprised and almost pleased by the question. “I bet I could ask you the exact same thing and get a similar answer.”

I lean back on the blanket, staring up at the very blue sky. “I guess so. But you didn’t turn out like I did—committed to being self-sufficient. You don’t seem to have a lot of trouble connecting to people.”

“Is that what you think?”

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