Page 78 of The Road Trip Romance

“Yeah, yeah. So, let’s talk more about how you officially called things off with Tate,” she says as I push a cup of coffee toward her. She takes it black, always has.

“It wouldn’t have lasted,” I say, trying more to convince myself than Anissa.

“You didn’t even try,” she protests. “And you seemed…happy in those photos.”

“Whatever. It’s over,” I say, willing myself not to cry again. I spent all last night crying, wanting to go down to the basement and tell him I was wrong and stupid and that I love him. But the fear of him leaving me, the fear of feeling unwanted, and unloved again is just too much. I don’t want another relationship where we try and try and it slowly falls apart, causing us both misery.

“I know what you’re thinking and you don’t know what would happen. It’s OK to be scared, but you can’t stop living your life out of fear. What if it works out? What if he is the one and you live happily ever after? I saw how he looked at you. I think you’re making a big mistake,” she says.

“Well, I think it was the right thing to do,” I rationalize, glancing away because I hate that her words could be true. It’s easier to think it couldn’t have worked out than to think it could have.

“I disagree. I think you got scared and decided playing it safe was the better option because you don’t ever want to feel again like you did when you and Mark split up,” she argues.

“OK, Freud,” I say with an eye roll. But deep down, I know she’s not wrong and I sort of hate that.

“Fine. But for the record, I think I’m on the right side of history on this one.” She sighs. “Come on. Let’s go get breakfast. It’s on me. I need to hear all about this trip,” she offers. “We’ll go to that hole-in-the-wall coffee place where everyone will leave us alone,” she adds.

* * *

“Mom, do you think Mr. Tate will come back to visit? He said he’d try to visit so my friends could meet him. He sent Dad an email at work and said something came up and to apologize to me, which is cool, but maybe he’ll come back, yeah?” Cal asks, his voice so hopeful.

I keep my back turned to him, my hands in a sudsy pan. I can’t bear to have him see the hurt in my eyes. I haven’t been serious with anyone since Mark. So, I haven’t introduced the kids to another man, ever. It’s made it easier when things didn’t work out because they were none the wiser. But now, it’s different. The kids have asked about Tate at least once a day for the last two weeks. I’ve explained that he’s busy and will reach out if he has time.

I can see the disappointment in their eyes and it kills me, maybe even more than the hurt I’m feeling, the hurt I caused myself. God, I was so stupid. How could I fall for him? It was never going to work out. Anissa is wrong. If he wasthe one, then I would have known that, right? Or, he’d come back for me. I remember his statement on the trip. He had said if he really wanted a woman, he’d chase after her.

And then there’s the film. Marti said Carol asked for some more time so that Tate can work on a contract, but with each passing day, I know it’s not going to happen even more than I did the day before.

“Mom?” Cal’s voice is closer now. I wipe a stray tear and turn to him.

“I don’t know, buddy. We’ll just have to see,” I say because it’s not a lie, and damn it, I can’t lie to him right now, not when he’s looking up at me like that, so innocent and hopeful.

“Well, I hope so,” he mumbles as he turns. Then he stops. “Can I have a popsicle?”

I can’t help but laugh at his change of topic. Thank God I have these minions because they bring some levity to my life. “Sure,” I reply.

He opens the freezer and grabs two. I give him a look and he grins. “Don’t worry. One is for Lizzie,” he explains as he scurries off and I roll my eyes.

I turn back around and watch as Cal runs over to the swing set and hands Lizzie a popsicle. My phone pings and I dry my hands and pull it from my pocket.

Penn: How’s my M?

I smile. I miss that fucker. He brings much-added humor to my life. He’s texted me every couple of days, seeing how I’m doing or telling me something funny that happened to him. I’m glad he’s kept in touch.

Me: I’m good. Just catching up on some cleaning this weekend. How are you?

Penn: (tired emoji)

Me: Don’t tell me you’re doing some crazy race or something.

Penn: (laughing emoji) Nope. Just got up early to surf and now am regretting it. (old man emoji)

Me: From one (old woman emoji) to one (old man emoji)—might I recommend coffee?

Penn: Noted. How are the kids? How’s Anissa?

I smirk. Subtle, Penn, real subtle.

Me: The kids are fine. Still excited they met you all. Anissa’s OK. She says her lady parts are still sore, but I’m sure she’ll get over that soon.

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