Page 35 of Let It Be Me
“So what’s our story then? Because we can’t use the clubas our meet cute.” I turn my attention back to the boiling pasta water and check the Italian sausage to ensure it’s cooking through.
“First, I’m shocked you’ve seenThe Proposal. And second, that you know what a meet cute is.” I hear the amusement in her voice but I don’t take the bait.
I pull the strainer out and place it in the sink. “My Momma is a rom-com and romance book fan. And despite Pops and I’s protest, we endured monthly marathons when I was growing up and we always let her choose.”
With the pasta al dente, I save some water and pour the rest in the strainer. I do all of this while Sarah watches. And if it’s one thing I know I’m exceptionally good at, it’s cooking. Yes, I get meals delivered once the season really amps up because I’m short on time after practices and games, but it’s nice to cook. And I have this big kitchen that should get used more regularly. Showing my skills off to her is another way I hope to win her over.Yeah, I’m so screwed.
“You sound close to your parents,” Sarah observes from her spot at the counter.
I move back to the stove and work on assembling the pasta. I take a deep breath and let it out, preparing myself because she’ll find out regardless. I might as well tell her my whole story now. “They are some of the most selfless people in my life. I don’t know where I would be if they hadn’t adopted me.”
“You were adopted?” Sarah asks hesitantly after a beat of silence.
I plate our finished dinner and walk our food to the dining table. Sarah follows and takes the spot on the right and I grab us silverware before taking the seat next to her.
“I was ten years old when I was in a car accident with my Mom and Dad. I survived, but they didn’t. Momma and Popswere my godparents and my parents best friends. Unfortunately they could never have kids of their own so it was an adjustment when I started living with them. I was a sophomore in high school when they eventually broached the topic of legally making me theirs. I don’t know all of the legalities of what it took, but by the time school ended I was officially a Jones. At that point I had already considered Momma and Pops mine but this legal-ness of it made it more final. Neither of us had to worry about the what if. Like ‘what if’ my Mom or Dad had a relative they knew nothing about and they tried to take me.”
“I’m so sorry.” Sarah says and places a hand on my arm. It’s a mix of pity and comfort and I’m not sure if I hate it or just want more of her comfort. “May I ask why you didn’t keep your last name?”
“I love my parents. Both sets. And I could have chosen to hyphenate. But I didn’t. My mom and dad will always be my parents. But Cassie and Dean raised me, saved me, and comforted me when I needed it the most. Taking their last name wasn’t about erasing my parents memory…what little I do remember about them. Maybe one day when I have a family I’ll name one of my kids with that last name.”
The side of my face burns with Sarah’s gaze but I avoid it and shovel pasta into my mouth.
“So that’s my big back story,” I say after I can’t take the terse silence. “What’s yours?” I take the focus off of myself, but I know one day we’ll have to dive deeper into it.
Sarah retreats and takes a bite of her food. I do the same and wait for her to gather her thoughts.
“My best friend's boyfriend died in a car accident. And when it happened I felt like a failure as he wanted me to help him look desirable for scouts. I was originally on the path to become a sports agent—which is why I stepped in soeasily for you, but when no one knocked on the door, he spiraled and crashed his truck into the back of an eighteen-wheeler. And then my ex cheated on me when I got a job here and told me the girl he cheated on me with was pregnant. Oh, and that as soon as he landed back home he was proposing to her.”
“What the fuck,” I say, completely dumbfounded as my fork clatters inside the bowl and I quickly pick it back up.
“I know. My mom likes my ex like he’s her own and never fails to mention it to me when she sees him around town. She thinks I should give him another chance.”
My forks clanks on the bowl-plate again from complete horror and disgust. “I–I have half a mind to fly to…wait, where are you from?”
“Charleston,” she tells me.
“Right. I have half a mind to fly to Charleston and give your mom a piece of my mind.”
Sarah stabs her pasta and toppings, which I imagine is how she reacts when her mom calls. “She is a hard-headed woman. I haven’t talked with her since the day you came to my office.”
“What a damper to your good mood.” I deadpan.
She snorts into her glass of water. “You could say that.”
“So back to our story. What is the plan?”
We both finish our meals in companionable silence and then Sarah turns in her seat to give me her full attention. “Are you a farmer’s market kind of guy?”
“Can’t say that I even know where one is around here.”
“Okay, same. I was just trying to make it cute.” She tucks her leg under her and my eyes track the movement of her sweatshirt rising up on her legs. “What about making it fitness related?”
“We can do that. I usually do Pilates a few times a week and throw in a run every now and then.”
“Pilates?”
“Yeah. Do you have any complaints?” I ask with a teasing tone in my voice.
