Page 19 of Absolutely Not in Love
Either way, the last thing I want is for Gracie to disappear into her apartment thinking I’m with another woman.
“Gracie, wait,” I say.
She stops and turns, her cheeks an almost violent shade of pink.
“I’m not on a date,” I say. “Iwasn’ton a date.”
She eyes the heels sitting inches away from my feet.
With perfect timing, my mom steps into the doorway, her curiosity clearly too much for her to ignore any longer. “What’s going on?” she says, and I drop an arm around her shoulders.
“Gracie, I’d like you to meet my mother, Emily Jamison,” I say. “Mom, this is my neighbor, Gracie Mitchell. She’s a cellist in the Harvest Hollow Symphony. And this is her friend, Summer.”
Gracie only stares, her eyes wide, until Summer nudges her in the side and Gracie shoots out her hand. “Your mother,” she says. She swallows and licks her lips. “Mrs. Jamison. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“And you, dear,” Mom says as she shakes their hands. I have no idea if Mom has been able to hear our conversation, but her impeccable poise will keep her from saying anything either way. Mom’s a class act, impossible to ruffle in even the most awkward situations.
She smiles warmly. “Your performance was lovely, Gracie. I’ve seen the Chicago Symphony dozens of times, and you all sounded just as good. Truly. Your conductor is a marvel.”
Gracie nods. “She is. We’re lucky to have her.” Her eyes dart to me, embarrassment filling their depths, then she quickly looks back at my mom. “So you’re just in town for a visit? From Chicago?”
“I am. For Felix’s hockey game tomorrow. He says it’s supposed to be quite the match-up.”
“Right. The game,” Gracie says. Her face contorts the slightest bit, and I bite back a laugh. She couldn’t be more obvious if she tried.
“Are you all hockey fans?” Mom asks, her tone warm, her interest genuine.
“Huge fans,” Summer says before Gracie can open her mouth. “Right, Gracie?”
Gracie forces a smile. “Oh, you know,” she says through her grimace. “As much as the next classical musician.”
If Mom notices Gracie’s sarcasm, she doesn’t note it. She only smiles, her expression warm and sincere.“Maybe I’ll see you at the game tomorrow.” Mom takes a step back and pats my shoulder. “I think I’ll head to bed now, Felix, but don’t say goodnight on my account. Invite your friends in. I’m sure I’ll sleep like the dead after the day I’ve had. You won’t keep me up.”
“Oh no, we’re actually going to bed too,” Gracie says quickly. “So tired.” She tugs Summer toward her apartment. “So, so tired.”
“Geez, Gracie. You’re going to knock me over,” Summer says under her breath, though it’s still loud enough for me to hear, and it immediately makes me smile.
“It was so nice to meet you, Mrs. Jamison,” Gracie says. She unlocks her apartment and practically shoves Summer inside. “Good night!” she calls, and then she’s gone too.
Mom is silent for a beat, her eyes still fixed on my open apartment door, her expression curious. “Well, she’s odd,” she finally says, and I bark out a laugh.
“Not usually. I think you might have intimidated her.”
Mom eyes me knowingly. “Felix, dear, that young woman was not intimidated. She wasflustered.And I think we both know why.” She gives me a pointed look, then bends and scoops up her heels. “Are the two of you dating?”
I run a hand through my hair. “No. But I—” Do I want to say more? I’m not necessarily opposed to talking to Mom about women. I’m just not sure I want to do it right now. Before I can decide how to finish my sentence, Mom finishes my sentence for me.
“But you wish you were?”
I breathe out a sigh. “Something like that. But she isn’t really into hockey.”
Mom turns and heads across the living room. “Then it’s a good thing you’re more than a hockey player.”
Her words resonate deep in my gut. Iammore. And if there’s ever been a time to remind Gracie of that, it’s right now.
As soon as Mom is safely ensconced in my guest bedroom, I hurry through my still-open front door, fueled by adrenaline and a recklessness that feels foreign and exhilarating and nauseating all at the same time. I move to Gracie’s door, lift my fist, and give it three swift knocks.
She opens it almost immediately, but she doesn’t say hello. Just stares, her big brown eyes wide and luminous.
