Page 42 of Lucy Loves Him Not
“So?”
The sun was setting outside our windows. A warm breeze was rippling through the tall elm trees waving overhead.
“You’re about to have dinner with my family,” I said. Because I need to talk things out even if it’s awkward, or a bad idea, or people would rather not verbalize whatever it is I’m thinking about.
“That is correct.” Adam gave a little nod.
I looked at him.
“Should I be worried?” Adam asked, hitting his blinker. “You’ve seemed very hesitant about this. I swear I watched your face fall when your mom invited me. Am I walking into something?”
I shook my head. “No, well, I mean, they do know I had some…mixed…feelings about you and the festival. But I think you’ve won them over.”
“Have I won you over?” He stole a glance at me.
Again, with my visceral reaction to his words, my heart started racing. I had finally resolved that I couldn’t dislike this man and he was going to be my friend whether I liked it or not, but it was as if he wouldn’t settle for even that.
I licked my lips, knowing very well he could’ve meant this question amicably, innocently. “I feel very medium about you,” I said, adjusting my seat belt.
“Medium,” he repeated.
“You’re nicer than I realized,” I admitted.
“I guess that’s a compliment,” said the man who’d recently called me dazzling. I zipped up all my complimentary Adam thoughts because I had an inkling that if I let one slide, they’d all come tumbling out.
“It’s a compliment that my mom and Olivia would invite you over,” I said quietly. I leaned over and grabbed the daisy again, giving it a little twirl. I wondered if it was from the bunch in his office.
“That’s good because I could use some friends.” He looked in the rearview mirror.
“Have you talked with your family much since you’ve been here?” I asked, remembering our conversation at the taco truck.
“A little,” he said, then quietly added, “not really.”
I felt the strongest urge to reach over and rub his arm or tangle my fingers in his, like it would be so natural for me to be someone who comforted him. I kept my hands to myself.
“That’s pretty much the usual, though,” Adam said in a light, joking tone. He hit the blinker. “Can’t complain about it now.”
“The usualcan sting, though,” I said. “When my dad left and stopped checking in, it became the usual. This depressing new habit between us. The four of us without our fifth. It became normal kind of quickly, but a normal that hurt around the edges. When my grandma passed, it became my normal life. But even ifthe absence of her is common now…it still hurts every time I feel it, like pressing against a wound I’ve grown accustomed to. Just because we get used to things doesn’t make them okay.”
Adam ran his fingers through his hair. “This definitely fits into the depressing habit category. A wound I bump into a little more often when I move somewhere new and I’m still trying to find my footing.”
“When Liv was going through her last breakup and she was trying to adjust to a sad, new normal, she kept having these reminders of her ex. His favorite band had a new single out, the show they watched together came out with a new season, his old coworkers kept popping up everywhere—we would call them Shake Situations.” The car curved around a turn and I leaned into the seat. “Because we’d go get a milkshake and talk it out or get a shake and go for a drive with loud music. Either way, a shake was involved.”
“What’s your go-to shake?”
“Peanut butter and chocolate,” we said at the same time, then started laughing.
“It’s the best!” Adam cheered.
“I feel so seen,” I said, clasping my hands to my chest. “My sisters always tease me for my supposedly boring order.”
“No way.” He shook his head. Then I realized the car was pulling into a Sonic Drive thru. Adam’s eyes twinkled.
“You brought up shakes and this was right here. Destined,” he said as we pulled up to one of the menus.
He ordered us both peanut butter chocolate shakes. I couldn’t stop giggling while he ordered. It made his cheeks flush.
We sat in the Sonic parking lot drinking our shakes and bonding over how it’s the superior flavor combination. Then the conversation circled back to his family. His newness in town. He wanted me to tell him more about growing up in Sweet River. We got lost in the conversation.
