Page 37 of Yes No Maybe

WalkingupbehindRowan,I suspect I might be in trouble—Ireallylike this woman. Her speech about trusting my abilities instead of a mystical force impresses me, but,of course, a confident, independent woman like her believes that. So do I, despite what our neighbors think and my writer’s block suggests.

It’s the small things about her, though. Sharing her mom’s call with the neighborhood. The stern way she says my name. The lavender and vanilla smell when the breeze catches her just right. Her tight calves and long legs—alwaysthose legs.

But most of all, it’s the look on her face when she whips around and finds me there. Her cheeks flush pink, and her full lips part in a quiet inhale. Her always-pretty blue eyes widen and sparkle like diamonds at sea. Shewantsto see me.

That’s enough to change us from cordially volatile to something else entirely.

She searches for words that don’t come. I don’t know what to say either. I’m gobsmacked—a word I never use.

“Jack, meet Rowan’s mum, Christine.” Rose points to the flushed but lovely woman on the propped screen.

I pick the phone up, flashing my best smile. “Hi, Christine. I’m Jack. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, my. You’re even more handsome than on your book jackets.”

“Mom, geez,” Rowan mutters, eyes rolling and cheeks reddening, just like her mother’s.This could be fun.

“I’ve read all your books,” Christine says. “They’re wonderful, Jack. Truly. They make me… believe in love again.”

Rowan’s brow knits, hearing her say that.What’s with these women and love?

“Wow, Christine. That’s a beautiful compliment. Thank you.”

“I can’t believe you’re Rowan’s next-door neighbor!” Christine giggles while her daughter scoffs beside me.

“Me, neither. So, when do we get to meet you in person?” I ask.

“End of August.”

“Really, Mom?” Touching my hand, Rowan moves the screen toward her. “Before Thanksgiving? That’s awesome!”

“For two weeks… I’ll help with the start of school and Sara. I can’t wait to meet her. Rowan’s going to be a foster mom. Did she tell you?”

The conversation veers into fostering and how they all want to help. I hold the phone, taking Christine around to each speaker and not minding the job.

Before long, Christine sighs. “Oh, this has been absolutely lovely, but I must get to work. It’s been a pleasure meeting all of you… And Jack?”

I turn the screen. “Yes, Christine.”

“Rowan despises romance. You know all about jaded hearts. Get her to believe in love again, and I’ll buy you dinner while I’m there. Hell, I’ll buy you dinner anyway!”

“It’s a date. I’ve already pushed my newest on her. We’ll see if she reads it, though.”

“I’m not jaded. I read it,” Rowan chimes in defensively.

I nearly drop the phone, turning toward her. “What? All of it? I just gave it to you this morning.”

“I’m an English teacher. Speed-reading is a required skill.”

“You’ve always been a quick reader. She’d go through four or five books a week as a teenager,” Christine adds.

“I had little else to do. You’re going to be late, Mom.”

Everyone says their goodbyes, and the phone flashes to the home screen. The table chatter returns in a wave as if nothing interrupted them. They discuss dinner plans for Christine’s visit, which kicks off a discussion about local restaurants, good and bad.

Rowan doesn’t return to her seat but stays beside me, watching the others with amusement like they’re a life-sized diorama of a pleasant evening or a Norman Rockwell painting.

A soft touch along her upper arm brings her attention back to me. My hand stays there, gently holding her in place as if she might run off rather than end my agony.

---