Page 10 of The Gift Rarely Given

“Then we don’t have to talk about football at all,” she says, shrugging her shoulder as she takes a bite of the fried green tomato on her plate. It’s a simple gesture, but I can tell she means it.

“Thanks,” I reply, trying to muster a smile. “I appreciate that. It’s just…a lot.”

Livie nods, her gaze softening. “We all have our baggage. What do you want to talk about instead?” She leans in with her soft smile and her pretty brown eyes.

I pause, contemplating my response while I sip my drink. “I guess I’m still figuring that out. But I’d like to know more about you. What’s your story?”

Her eyes light up in amusement as she raises an eyebrow and answers, “Well, I guess a change of topiciswhat you wanted. Okay, I’ll bite. You already know I live here and that I grew up in Florida. You know my best friend is Hailey and you know my taste in men is outstandingly different from my mother’s, considering she hasn’t been able to set me up with a proper date in forever…but it still led me to a man watching me sleep. Then you end upbeing the best company I’ve had in a while. Is that sad?”

I lean in snickering and add, “Sad for her, for sure, but for us it sounds like it was meant to be. I happen to enjoy your company too, and I don’t enjoy many people. What do you do for a living?”

“I work at the children’s hospital, offering support to children in hospice or in long term hospital care. Nothing teaches you to appreciate life, and what you have, more than seeing how fragile it can be.” Livie smiles softly, and I can’t help but smile back.

“Sounds like you’re a good person,” I say, feeling both sad and happy, I guess. I can tell by the tone of her voice she loves it and she makes a difference, but it’s probably so damn hard doing that as a job.

“Oh no, no, don’t do that! Don’t look at me with those puppy eyes, like I’m broken or a masochist. It’s hard, yes, but I truly enjoy being there in the hardest part of their lives. I don’t want a dark cloud looming over us, though. What do you do now that you don’t play the sport everyone loves?”

“I’m still trying to figure it out.” My voice trails off as I look down at my plate, and I push around the food with my fork. The truth is, this topic causes more turmoil inside of me than I’d like to admit.

“Aren’t we all?” she replies, her tone light but her eyes searching mine for something more.

Just then Nellie arrives, balancing our entrees on a tray with ease. She sets down our plates, the aroma wafting up like a warm embrace. “Enjoy, you guys! Holler if you need anything.” She beams at us, her energy infectious, but I can’t help but feel a shadow hovering over my thoughts.

As I take a bite, I steal a glance at Livie. She seems atease, her features softening as she eats her food. “What are you trying to figure out, Livie? You seem pretty content.” The words come out easily. She’s easy to talk to, funny, and beautiful as hell too.

“I am. Content, that is. I’m actually happy. I love my life. I enjoy my job and I have a solid friendship with Hailey. My mother doesn’t seem to think being content or even happy is enough if I’m still single, and I’m a little tired of it.” Her voice has a slight edge, revealing the frustration beneath her bubbly personality. It’s funny to see her share so much with me, a near-perfect stranger. She’s so open, but her mom—who is supposed to know her—doesn’t see she’s not helping.

“What are you going to do about it?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant, but I can feel the urgency creeping into my voice. I know damn well I need to do something about my own problems, and the thought hangs heavy in the air between us.

She shrugs, her smile faltering for just a moment. “Short of showing up with a boyfriend to Christmas Eve dinner, I don’t think there’s much I can do.” She takes a bite of her food and tilts her head to the side, looking at what she just ate. She frowns as if it tastes bad.

“What?” I ask, wondering if there’s something wrong with her meal.

She lets out a soft laugh and shakes her head. “Have you ever taken a bite of something while looking at something else, and your brain can’t comprehend what just happened? Well, I was looking at your food while I took a bite of this, and I thought I was short-circuiting.” We both laugh now.

Her words keep playing in my head over and over again, even though she has changed the topic to somethingelse.Short of showing up with a boyfriend to Christmas Eve dinner, I don’t think there’s much I can do.

“Can I ask why your mother is so focused on you dating someone?”

“Old-fashioned tradition of her homeland and me being almost thirty. It’s bullshit, to be honest. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not running away from a potential relationship. I would love nothing more than to date someone and maybe see if marriage and settling down is in the future. But it has to be someone worthy of my time and my heart. I have worked too hard to be where I am now, physically, mentally, and emotionally, to fuck it up with people like Frank from finance.”

I snort at that, which earns me another pretty smile from her. Livie’s smile is wide and bright with deep dimples in her cheeks. She has perfect teeth and they compliment her expression perfectly. She’s anatomically beautiful all the way to even the shade on the enamel of her teeth. She’s so pretty it hurts. It hurts to be sitting across from her and not drag her over the table and kiss her senseless again.

“I’m turning thirty next year and I feel like if I show up by myself to this stupid dinner, I will never hear the end of it. But I don’t want to string people along or give the wrong impression, so I might skip this year’s dinner.”

“Have you ever skipped one before?”

“Nope, not in my almost thirty years of life.”

Her words resonate with me more than I expected. I’ve been wrestling with so much uncertainty in my own life. But what sticks with me is that she’s willing to skip something that’s meaningful to her to avoid confrontation or being uncomfortable. My image—how I present myself to the world, how others perceive me—is not who I am. And after letting the media run wild with allegations, I haveburied myself into disgrace. She doesn’t want to disappoint her mom. I want to stop disappointing mine.

“What if I come with you?” I ask, letting the words slip out before I can stop them.

Livie coughs, covering her mouth to keep from spitting out whatever it is she’s eating. “To where? To my mother’s house?”

“Yeah. What if you bring me and we can pretend we’re together for her sake?”

“Alex, I don’t even know your full name.”

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