Page 28 of Clean Sweep
“Not sure,” I murmured, “but I keep thinking about the lunch on Saturday. Was thatsuperweird, or is that just me?”
Celeste giggled. “No, that was totally awkward and awesome and I’ll never ever forget it.”
“Same.”
“Leslie held herself together like a rockstar,” Celeste said, eyes tapered in thought. “I think Mom would have freaked out on me if I had done that. Can you imagine? She’d throw a plate at the wall.”
She would do that because she had at some point in our marriage. Some fuzzy, distant point that I strove to keep at the back of my mind and not ruminate over too much. Down that path lay a lot of regret which was better to leave tucked away. Brooke and I had long made peace over what failed between us. Thankfully, I lucked out and received most of Celeste in the breaking apart.
I cleared my throat.
“Weird lunch aside, I’m thinking about asking Leslie out.”
Celeste’s smile widened. “Really?”
“Yeah.” The truck built up speed as we headed into the mountains. “What do you think about that?”
“It’s awesome! I love Leslie. I think you’d be a great fit. I mean, she just got divorced. You could break her in and stuff.”
The phrase made me want to vomit.Break her in?
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked.
“Just that she hasn’t had a date after the divorce, which means the last time she went on a first date was with her husband. How many years is that? Like twenty?”
If her oldest son was twenty three, then even longer, but I didn’t want to press the point. It certainly didn’t rosy up the details. Besides, if that were true, it made me internally blanch a little.
Well, maybe I didn’t want to ask her out. Would there be baggage there? Would Leslie even say yes?
I dismissed those thoughts. First, the report that Leslie needed to bebroken incame from a seventeen-year-old that lived on assumptions. Second, Leslie was a strong woman that could clearly take care of herself. Third, I didn’t fear rejection. After years of being single and dating occasionally, the last thing I needed to worry about was the opinion of someone that probably wouldn’t impact my life in a massive way.
Besides, baggage was something I carried plenty of myself.
“What if you took her to a really nice restaurant in Jackson City?” Celeste asked. “The new one that opened up recently. French, something?”
My nose wrinkled.
“Upscale is fine,” I said. “French? Not so much.”
“Italian?”
“Better, but feels trite.”
She immediately tapped into her phone. “Something romantic,” Celeste continued. “Leslie needs to be taken care of. Lizbeth has told me about her ex-husband. He doesn’t sound like a bad guy, but he also doesn’t sound all that . . .”
“Romantic?”
“In tune.”
Screens populated on her phone as she swiped around, mumbling to herself. The internet would cut out here soon enough.
Hey, wait a minute.
“What does in tune mean?” I asked and nudged her with my elbow. “What’s that supposed to mean? How is a man in tune?”
Celeste didn’t hide her eye roll very well.
“I guess romantic is a word, but I mean someone that’s . . . paying attention. You see her, you know? You get what she wants, what she doesn’t want, and when she wants it. That kind of thing.”
