Page 30 of Love Rescheduled

“Did you think I would go all city?”

I picked up my fork to dive into the cheesy pasta goodness on my plate. “Maybe. Do you like LA?”

He shrugged. “It has its perks, but it’s … well, let’s just say it’s not home.”

“But you’re buying a place there?” I let slip out. Dang it.

Josh’s face broke out in the smirkiest smirk ever. “Are you still following me on social media?”

“Why would I do that?” I refused to tell the truth. “I could have heard that from Jolene.”

“You could have, but you didn’t,” he sang arrogantly. “It’s fine. You don’t have to admit it, but just so you know, I listen to your podcast every month.”

I stopped twirling my pasta. “You do?”

“Yeah. You ladies have a good vibe going. You could really take it places if you wanted to.”

I couldn’t believe he was listening to our A Party of Two and the Wallflower podcast. “Of course, Jolene and Tara would love to expand our listener base, but you know me. I would rather not.” I met his eyes so there would be no doubt about what I was trying to say to him. “I’m always holding people back. It’s a gift.” A crappy one, but a talent of mine nonetheless. I told Jolene and Tara to drop me from it and get a new introvert. It’s not like we used my name or picture. That was kind of our shtick. Our cover photo was of them all dolled up in party clothes and I’m sitting there in sweats with a book covering my entire face. It’s a running joke on the show that no one knows my name. They just say things like, “Let’s defer to our wallflower” or “The introvert says …”

Josh’s eyes bored right back into mine. “The only person you ever hold back is yourself.”

I dropped my fork. “I excel at that.” I couldn’t hide the hurt in my voice despite wholeheartedly agreeing with him.

“I’m sorry, Nat. That was harsh.”

“It’s true, though. I know I hold others back, too, but you’re right, I hold myself back the most. But I’m working on it.”

He leaned in. “I know you never wanted to think of yourself as a victim, but you are. How your parents treated you is unforgivable. Yet, you turned out to be an amazing person despite it all.”

More than anything, I hated feeling like a victim. It never even struck home with me that I was until I went to therapy and they made me fill out the ACEs questionnaire measuring childhood trauma. I could answer seven out of ten questions in the affirmative. I won’t lie, it was a bit triggering to see it on paper like that. It was the first time I even allowed myself to think I had been a victim. “I’m not amazing,” I choked out.

“Yes, you are. You are the most incredible person I have ever met.”

Right. He was constantly meeting fascinating and fantastic people. People who had achieved greatness like himself. “You’re a good liar.”

“I’m not lying. I’ve always been in awe of what you’ve overcome. I just hate to see that every minute you don’t live the life you truly want, you let your parents continue to victimize you.”

I blinked, stunned. That might have been the most poignant thing anyone had ever said to me. As in, why didn’t my therapist ever say that to me in the two years I had been seeing her? Like honestly, wow. Just wow. Was I letting my parents revictimize me? Regardless, I didn’t want a life in the spotlight. And I would never ask Josh to give up who he is just so we could be together. Believe me, I’d thought about it, but I knew it would never lead to good places. I never wanted to be selfish like that. With all that said, Josh’s revelation made me more determined to not let my parents have a say in my life. I was going to have the life my mother and father had withheld from me. I was going to create a loving home with a husband and children and possibly a slightly neurotic wife and mother who only had their best intentions at heart. That meant I had to give more credence to my voice, rather than those of my parents.

Josh tilted his head. “What’s that spark in your eye?”

“I was just thinking you should have been a therapist.” And some other things I couldn’t say to him. Like I was planning on marrying someone else. I couldn’t hurt him like that at that moment. Even if he had thrust me into the spotlight over the weekend and the mortification appeared to be ongoing.

His beautiful eyes lit up. “So, you agree with my assessment?”

“I do. Thank you.” I picked up my fork, already twirled with pasta, and took a bite. Mmm. Just like I remembered. The man was a wizard with parmesan cheese.

“I’m glad,” he said, relieved. “So, tell me some new fascinating facts.” He dug into his food.

I swallowed and thought for a moment. I couldn’t explain how happy it made me he’d asked. No one else seemed to care for my vast, ridiculous knowledge. I made a mental note to make sure I shared a few facts on each date to gauge the man’s interest. It was important to me that he enjoy that aspect of me. “Did you know no one knows how William Shakespeare’s name is really spelled? Not even he knew. Funny, huh?” At least, I thought it was hilarious. Especially since the common spelling today is not one the world-famous playwright penned himself. I’d come across that tidbit researching a historical fiction novel for a client.

Josh flashed me a close-lipped smile as he chewed his food.

“Oh, did you also know that during the Industrial Revolution, there was an actual profession referred to as a knocker-upper?”

Josh spat out a laugh. “Is that like a male prostitute?”

“No. It was a person who would literally go around and knock on your door with a wooden stick to wake you up because most people didn’t have alarm clocks back then. Sometimes they would even shoot peas at windows on the top floor.”

---