Page 86 of Lotus

“I’m ready,” she nods brightly.

Tabitha offered to pick me up, despite my resistance. It feels strange having a woman pick me up for a date—backwards. I can’t help but feel insecure about the very notion. But she insisted, seemingly unfazed. “All right,” I say through a small smile. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Of course. It’s no problem at all.”

I catch her eyes meeting with Gabe’s for a lingering moment before they say a quick goodbye, and Tabitha and I step outside. It’s ice cold, the sky shedding light flurries. The moon casts an ambient glow upon Tabitha, illuminating her milky skin as we walk towards her vehicle.

A jarring scraping sound grabs my attention, and I glance to my right to discover Sydney chipping away the ice chunks from her windshield, her legs bare and shivering beneath her long winter coat. Hesitation grips me as I call out to Tabitha, “One moment, please. My apologies.”

Tabitha eyes the source of my distraction and nods a smile before slipping into the driver’s seat. “No worries. I’ll warm up the car for you.”

Sydney glances up through her task, ash blonde hair spilling out from her pink beanie, her gloveless hands nearly matching the hat. A forced smile greets me as I approach.

“You look frozen to the bone,” I say, coming up beside her and reaching for the ice scraper. “Let me. Get inside to warm yourself.”

She falters at first, then concedes, gaze darting to mine before dancing away. “All I want for Christmas this year is remote start,” she breathes out, her chuckle a ghost against the cold air. “Thank you.”

Smiling back, I watch as she slides into the car and I finish what she started, shaving the thin layer of frost from the window. When it’s complete and the heat from the vehicle melts the rest, I move to the driver’s side and hand her the tool through the open window.

“I really appreciate that. I forgot to warm the car up, and I’m running late for work.”

“It’s not a problem,” I respond, my tone subdued, if not laced with a tinge of longing. I urge my legs to retreat, and yet, they disobey. Our eyes pull together like a magnet, the heat between us almost enough to make me forget I’m standing amidst a Midwest tundra. “Well, enjoy your shift tonight. Be safe.”

“You have a date?” she blurts before I turn away. Her eyes flicker with distress beneath her oversized spectacles, her fingers coiling around the steering wheel in a fierce grip.

I’m unsure why a stab of guilt pokes me in the gut. Sydney has made it clear she’s not interested in pursuing romantic involvement with me. “Yes, with Tabitha. We will be eating Italian food.”

Her features are pinched, tight with anguish, but she tries to disguise her reaction by flashing me her teeth, a smile straining. “That’s wonderful. Have a good time.”

I reply with an agreeable nod before I duck my head, hands gliding into my pockets. “All right, well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Sydney’s jaw goes rigid, her eyes glistening as she stares straight ahead, still clutching the wheel. She addresses me one more time before I head back to my driveway. “Oliver…”

I pause. “Yes?”

The words dance along the back of her throat, burning, searing, aching for release. But she swallows them down, her watery smile a send-off. “Nothing. I’ll see you around.”

Sydney backs out of the driveway, rolling the window up, leaving me standing there with questions in my heart and snowflakes in my hair.

“Favorite color?” she asks me, cutting her chicken into small bits.

I twirl the linguine around the tines of my fork five times too many, my appetite hindered by my nerves. Tabitha sits across from me in a cozy booth, our conversation easy, our questions easier. She’s delightful company, always smiling and never making me feel uncomfortable or out of place. And yet, my stomach is still twisted into knots as I play with my pasta. “Red, I think. I’ve never really thought about that.”

Tabitha gifts me a wide grin. “That generally implies that you’re courageous, confident, bold, and outgoing.”

“Oh.” Those are not adjectives I’d use to describe myself. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

“No?” She pops a piece of chicken into her mouth, eyes twinkling. “Maybe that’s who you are deep inside, and those traits were simply buried due to circumstances.”

I blink, absorbing her words. “Perhaps.”

“And you’re definitely courageous. Anyone who can survive what you survived and come out on the other side with such grace is extremely brave.”

My smiles meets hers over the table. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue. I’m a peacemaker.”

“That strikes me as very accurate. Do you enjoy psychology?”

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