Page 84 of Mr. Picture Perfect
My mom is first to fly from her seat and rush to the window. “It’s Cole!” she exclaims with a gasp. “The sweet boy came back to fix the mailbox, just like he said he would! What a darling! I have to go out andinsiston him stayin’ for dinner.” She peers back at me. “To thank him for saving my son’s life, apparently,” she adds somewhat frostily, then sees herself out the front door.
After yet another disappointed look from the self-appointed mayor of Windville himself, I leave my dad’s side and move to the window. My mom meets Cole by the mailbox, already erected and in place. Cole’s face is bright and cheery as he greets her, looking so sweet and handsome as he always does.
With the busy and stressful day I’ve had, Cole is a welcomed sight on my lawn.
I can still feel Burton breathing down my neck at the office earlier this afternoon. “This is just the beginning,” he had said as he leaned against my desk, once again threatening a tall stack of folders that sat precariously next to him. What is it with me and stacks of folders on my desk? “We’ll be runnin’ more issues than usual this month, so keep them fingers movin’ and don’t stop, not for a second. Patrick is out delivering. Heard a stand was already depleted on Main Street. Whatever his stomach bug was, I guess it’s passed, thank the Lord, because we sure need all the hands we can get. Speaking of, have your tiny tippy-tappin’ hands finished the H. T. M. I. java coffee layout stuff? My dad’s on my ass about them.” After a breath, I responded, “It’s HTMLand JavaScript, and I should be finished soon, sir.” But Burton walked away halfway through my reply, back on his phone: “Hey, buddy! What’s goin’ on? Nah, I can’t pull away right now, super busy day. Wait, what? Cindy will be there?Damn it, just my luck. Alright, I’ll see what I can do. Uh, did she say anything about me, by chance?”
Tamika was only there for part of the morning before she was sent out on some errands. “I swear,” she said to me as she swung past my desk on her way out, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say I’m a full-time employee rather than an intern, the way Burton has me doing this and that. Oh, do you want me to pick you up anything on my way back, by the way? I’ll be hitting up T&S’s, too, so coffee, pastry, ice cream, hot dog, you name it, it’s in your mouth.”
I bit on my finger, wondering if Cole was on any menu. Cole and what he did to me last night. Cole and his tongue and his big hands and his piercing eyes.Cole, Cole, Cole.
That was all I wanted in my mouth.
On my mouth.
Around my mouth.
Everything to do with that beautiful man and my mouth.
Has there really been nothing else on my mind all day but him?
The front door opens, startling me out of my memories of my day at the Spruce Press building, and in come Cole and my mother, who herself seems surprisingly placated. “Well, well,” she sings as she reappraises me, as gentle as a snowflake. “Cole filled me in on all the detailsyouhad failed to mention. Apparently your incident is therealreason you had gone over to the Strongs’ that night.” Her face contorts, turning at once giddy. “My son … andtheMayor Strong workin’ together? On this big ol’ pageant event I just read about? Be still my dancin’ heart, I think this just went from the worst day to the best.” She pats Cole’s cheek. “At leastsomeonehere knows how to properly communicate.”
He nods at her. “You’re welcome, Mrs. Reed, though if I had an opinion on it, I can understand why Noah held back. He cares about you so much, he didn’t want to burden you.” Then he gazes at me, flashing his beautiful smile.
I can’t help but return the smile, swooning.
If Cole wasn’t already enough of a hero, my knight just went and saved me from the gelatin dragonhead’s wrath.
“And as much as I’d love to take you up on that dinner offer, Mrs. Reed,” Cole goes on, coming up and throwing an arm over my back, startling me. “I was hoping to take this guy out tonight.”
I blink and look at him. “You were?” I mumble.
My mom seems to find that notion a thousand times better than any dinner or terrifying treat she could have concocted, the way her face explodes into glitter. “That is mighty fine with me! I know my son is ingoodhands when he’s with you. You’re a fine, fine young man, Cole. The finest. Oh, howfineyou’ve become!”
If she uses the word “fine” one more time… “Mom, I’m gonna buy you a thesaurus for your birthday.”
“Go on, go on,” she urges, practically pushing us out the door. “Don’t let us stop you! We’ll be quite alright here. Don’t even need to call us when you get to wherever it is you’re goin’. When you’re with Cole, I know you’ll be as dandy as a dandelion. Go, go! The night is only so long and you’ve got fun to have!”
Why is she talking like we’re nearing midnight already and my carriage is about to turn back into a pumpkin? It’s barely five. The sun is up and bright. My mother must have laced her latest treats with a bucket of sugar for the way she’s hopping around everywhere. She’s even sweating. She just wiped her brow off with the back of her hand for the fifth time. There are droplets of sweat literally hanging from the end of her nose.
But Cole, in his amazingly accepting and loving way, smiles at my mom like she’s the greatest human ever. “I’ll be happy to take your son off of your hands and keep him nice and safe tonight.”
“Nottoosafe!” she replies happily, tears of joy in her eyes.
This is all a bit too much for me. “I need to freshen up,” I tell the gleeful pair of them, then slip away down the hall to my room.
Thankfully, the awkwardness only lasts until I’m out the door. As soon as I’m in Cole’s car and we’re driving away, I find my heart so light, it could float off into the stratosphere. The giddiness I felt all last night is back with a happy vengeance, causing my skin to prickle with anticipation and my face to do this weird thing where I feel like I’m wearing a permanent smile.
“Does it feel like I kidnapped you a little bit?” asks Cole as he turns onto 2ndStreet. “Not that your parents seemed to mind.”
“The one or two times I actually went to someone’s birthday party back in school,” I mutter, “I was convinced my mom bribed their family with baked goods. She’d literallypayfor me to have a social life. She would sell her soul. She wants me out of the house doing things. She even considered hiring a therapist once because she thought I spent too much time in my room on the computer. I mean, has she met Dad? He plays withtrains.” I huff and gaze out the window. We pass by Hadley’s Hardware, sharing a parking lot with its smaller neighbor Crafty Carson where my dad works part-time—and feeds his aforementioned train addiction. “Not that we could afford a therapist.”
“Well,Ilike you and your family just the way y’all are.”
I look at Cole, watching as he drives with confidence, wearing a proud smile on his face. There’s something about his expression that always puts me at ease. I believe every word he says. Even my own pesky self-doubts are no match for his sincerity.
I’m starting to wish we reallywerefriends back in the day.
