Dipping In A Toe (4 page)

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Authors: Linda Carroll-Bradd

Tags: #Contemporary

BOOK: Dipping In A Toe
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A tall, blondish man leaned down and waved.

Rick? My heart sped and I refastened the banana clip in my hair, rolling my eyes at the baggy T-shirt and yoga pants I wore. Not a glamorous fashion statement. I pulled open the door and gazed at him through the fine mesh of the screen door. “Hi, good to see you.” Wow, I’d almost forgotten how handsome he was.

“Hello.” He grinned and spread out his arms in a grand gesture. “Surprise. I’m taking you out to dinner.” He reached for the screen and swung it wide, creating a breeze in the cool afternoon air. “So point me to the television, hand me the remote, and I’ll entertain myself while you get ready. Nothing too fancy.” He waved a hand at the length of his body. “Don’t want you outshining me.”

I eyed his crisp khakis and lavender short-sleeved shirt—a color that nicely accented his tan. “Um, I don’t remember making plans.” My mind raced with doubts about my kids being ready to see me matched with another man by going out on a real date.
What would Dylan’s parents think?
I brushed aside that thought and focused on the here and now.

“We didn’t.” With slow steps, Rick walked over to the living room coffee table piled with magazines and folded clothes, grabbed the remote, and switched to a baseball game. “During our phone conversations, I listened for a night you’d have free.” He pushed the laundry basket to one side and sat on the couch.

For just a second, I enjoyed the view of him sitting on my floral couch, lace-edged throw pillows almost swallowing him up.

Clomping footsteps sounded from down the hallway, and Sadie ran into the front room. “Who’s here? Oh, hi, Coach.”

Rick waved a hand in her direction over his head. “Hello there, Sadie. How have you been?”

“Fine.” She leaned her forearms against the back of the couch. “I’m thinking about running track at school.”

“Good.” Turning to look at her, he shot her a wide smile and nodded. “Running is great for building endurance.”

I watched her expression brighten as they talked for a few moments, waiting for a lull. “Coach has asked us to dinner.”

“Cool.” Her face broke out in a grin as she nodded, her ponytail swinging.

Eyes wide, Rick shot to his feet and waved both hands over Sadie’s head. “Um, Jessa.” His head shook and he tapped his fingers together in the sign for a time out. “Could I talk to you”—he looked around and jerked a thumb over his shoulder—“in the kitchen?”

As I turned, I spotted Sadie’s body slump into the corner of the couch and she grabbed the remote. Distracted by Rick’s abrupt behavior, I left the room without my usual reminder on which channels she was allowed.

When we reached the tile counter, he turned and whispered, “You misunderstood. I meant the invitation only for you. A night out for just us—to get to know each other better.”

Caught off-guard, I stiffened at his take-charge attitude. Bossy, just like Dylan had been. “Well, you must have noticed these two smaller people that are always with me.” I held out my hands at my shoulders, at approximately their heights. “My kids? I’m not in the habit of dashing off on the spur of the moment and leaving them unsupervised.” Irritation made me snap my fingers right in his face.

“Whoa.” His body stiffened and he edged a step back. He blinked and held up his hands, palms out. “Calm down, Jessa. I bet my mom would love to bring over a couple board games.”

Sadie peeked around the corner. “I want to go, too!”

Disbelief at his proposition raised my blood pressure. My arm shot straight out. “Sadie Elizabeth, go to your room and stop listening in on adult conversations.”

“This is not fair.” Her protests, accompanied by stomping footsteps, receded down the hall.

Immediately, I regretted my strident tone, yet my stomach clenched at Rick’s behavior. I hated to think he could act as my late husband had. But worse was the proof Rick was that much younger that he had no clue about raising kids.

At that moment, the front door burst open. “Hey, Mom. Is that Coach’s car out front?” Adam bounded into the kitchen, grinning. “Hi, Coach. Want to toss a few baseballs?”

My son’s enthusiasm for Rick’s presence in our house was so obvious that my words caught in my throat. For a second, I almost softened. He really did miss having another male around.

Three years of making my own decisions had forced me to evaluate my priorities. I gritted my teeth and inhaled a calming breath. “Adam, Coach Rick and I are having a private discussion. Please go to your room until I call you.”

“Just asked about a game of catch.” Adam’s shoulders sagged and he tucked his chin close to his chest as he shuffled out of the room.

Good one, Jessa
. I envisioned the explanation that would take place after I finished this conversation.

As I formulated what I’d say, a niggling thought tugged at my mind. Neither of my kids acted bothered by seeing their swim coach in their house—by seeing another male in the space that for so many years had been reserved for just their family. Had I been wrong about their acceptance?

Rick’s smile faded as he watched Adam’s exit. He leaned back against the counter, hands shoved into his front pockets. “Damn, what did I do wrong?”

From down the hall came the blare of loud guitar twangs and drum beats.

Taking a deep breath, I turned my attention to this man who had just sent every person in my house into an uproar. “Rick, my life isn’t easy”—I swung my arms out wide—“or quiet. Through trial and error, I’ve developed a routine that works. I can’t just pick up on a moment’s notice.”

With a wide grin and a twinkle in his blue eyes, he leaned forward and cupped a hand around his mouth, whispering, “How about an hour’s notice?”

His apparent disregard for what I was explaining set me off. Irritation tightened my stance and I gripped the countertop until my knuckles whitened. “You asked me out and I’m saying no. When making plans, I have others besides myself to consider.”

Sadie’s throat-clearing preceded her movement down the hallway. “Mama, are you really going?” After a moment’s hesitation, she dashed into the room and clung to my waist. “Saturday night is family night.”

So maybe they weren’t ready to accept a change. I rubbed her back and ran my hand over her smooth hair. “Shh, baby. I’m not going anywhere.” My narrowed gaze focused on Rick’s widened blue eyes.

“Hey, if Sadie’s out here, I can be too.” Adam swaggered into the room.

Within seconds, Sadie shoved him away with an elbow to his stomach and he’d tugged her ponytail.

Classic rivalry. The situation was deteriorating and the mama bear element in my personality roared to life. I spread my hands palms up at my waist. “This is my life, Rick. I’m sorry if I can’t be the spontaneous woman you want. The timing isn’t right either to ask you to stay for dinner.”

I raised my chin and jerked my head toward the front door. “I think you’d better leave.”

His face tight with seriousness, he leaned over and rested a warm hand over mine. “I never figured…um, this is not what…” His other hand ran through his hair, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Jessa.” After a last long look around, he turned and walked out of the room.

Thirty minutes of family discussion ensued before feelings were soothed and the house was peaceful again. Later, as I sat at the table glaring at the toaster waffles and link sausage that made up our hastily prepared dinner, I wondered with a pang of longing what restaurant he’d had in mind. When the kids started an argument over what DVD to watch after dinner, I wondered if I’d be single forever.

Chapter Five

In quiet moments over the next week or so, I thought of that Saturday. Rick’s offer had been well-intentioned. As a single man, he had no idea of the logistics of getting kids settled and happy before leaving them for several hours. Although I hadn’t felt ready to plunge into dating yet, I’d talked with friends at work who had. “Sure the first few times were tough,” they said, “but the kids adjusted.”

Was I being too protective? Nights, after the kids went to bed, were the hardest. Chatting with friends on email only went so far at making me feel connected to other adults. More than once, I found myself reaching for the phone to call Rick, but figured my behavior on that fateful day had scared off the poor man for good. One day grew into several and those stretched into weeks. Then too much time had passed to make that conciliatory call.

Rethinking that day, I realized how much I’d overreacted and how my response had been based on old habits with my late husband. Rick had only made an offer, extended an invitation for a simple dinner out—a couple of hours alone—together. Maybe he hadn’t thought out all the potential hitches but he had offered to have his mom keep my kids company. In retrospect, I recognized the thoughtful act for what it was. Unlike Dylan, Rick hadn’t
demanded
a single thing or overridden my choice. One hint of resistance on my kids’ part and I’d totally blown the situation out of proportion.

The Friday before Halloween, I accompanied Sadie’s sixth-grade class on its trip to the city’s pumpkin patch. I sat on the side of the bus with my assigned class members. Several times Sadie turned in her seat to grin and wave in my direction. Love for my youngest one filled me each time I saw her happy smile.

I knew tasks were piling up on my desk at work but pushed aside those thoughts. How many more times would she want me along on these class field trips?

The scheduled visit was for two hours, and I knew I’d be kept on my toes chaperoning my eight assigned kids—five boys and three girls. A couple years earlier, I’d learned my lesson while chaperoning a similar trip for Adam’s class.

As my group lined up for roll call immediately after leaving the bus, I applied a bright orange sticky dot the size of a plum on their backs. The other mom/chaperone rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Feel free to use this tip on your next trip as chaperone.” I shot her a knowing smile. “Helps with keeping track of them.”

My group wanted to run through the hay-bale maze—the boys twice. The girls were happy to spend time at the arts and crafts table, but the boys stayed only long enough to add the barest minimum of color to their trick-or-treat bags.

The alarm on my phone sounded. I called out, “All of my orange buddies from Miss Clark’s class, please line up. Our turn to go into the patch and pick a pumpkin.” All around me, kids bounced and cheered. Oh, to have their energy.

I guided them under the brightly painted banner and watched as they spread out through the rows of brownish leaves and orange spheres. I did my best to keep them all in sight. Scattered throughout the patch were a couple dozen teenagers who stopped and squatted down to the younger kids’ level. By their gestures, I guessed they were answering questions and maybe offering opinions. Well, that was thoughtful of some good planner. I’d wondered how I would manage getting all eight pumpkins back to the bus.

Trees at the edge of the field shone in their amber, red, and orange fall palette of leaves. I scanned the area and not six feet away sat Rick, balancing on the back two legs of a folding chair.

For just a few moments, I let my gaze take in his handsome profile—strong jaw underneath his goatee balanced with a straight nose and that tousled blond-brown hair. My heart rate sped and tingles ran over my skin. Absence had only made this heart grow fonder.

What to say to him after that fiasco at my house?

With a quick glance over my shoulder, I made sure I knew where each of my eight students was before I approached his chair. Anxious flutters invaded my stomach. “Hey, Rick. You playing hooky?”

“Jessa.” With a wide grin, he eased forward and the front chair legs dropped to the dirt. “I’m glad to see you.” For several seconds, his gaze scanned my face and then he waved a hand at the open field. “My students are performing part of their required community volunteer hours at the patch.”

Relief at his response relaxed me. Had he arranged this meeting? I thought back on our phone conversations and wondered if I’d mentioned chaperoning Sadie’s class on this activity. Remembering none, I shoved away that thought. “That’s great. I can see how helpful they are.”

Even after the conversation ebbed, I couldn’t deny how glad I was to see him and to hear his voice again. The fact was plain—I’d missed him and needed to do something to change that. “You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you, to explain why I overreacted that night.”

For several seconds, his intense gaze searched my face before he responded. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“About overreacting?” I glanced back to the field and used my finger in the air to count orange circles on children’s shirts. Good, I spotted eight kids.

“No…that you’ve wanted to talk.” He smiled and moved around so his back was to the field. “Let me stand here. Don’t worry. I won’t get offended when you check on your charges.”

“Thanks, that’s thoughtful.” Another positive action in his favor.

I bit my lip, very aware I hadn’t spoken these next words aloud to anyone but my sister. But a chance at any relationship had to be built on basic truths. “Okay, here’s my story. My late husband was a controller.
His
word was how the house was run and what the family did. I told you we started dating in high school and then married right after I graduated. I was too young to know any better.”

A breeze blew a strand of hair against my cheek and I tucked it behind an ear. “I own my part in allowing that marital dynamic to continue but in recent years, I’ve changed. Being thrust into widowhood made me realize that I like determining how things will run and setting my priorities.”

My hands tightened at my sides and I forced them to relax. I hated admitting my faults and I had to force the next words over a knot in my throat. “My response was overblown because I resented your offer. Your spontaneity seemed rash and threatened my sense of control. Plus I hated seeing Adam and Sadie upset about the whole situation.”

A frown drew his brows tight over the bridge of his nose. He stepped close enough to grasp my hand and squeezed. “After my plans fell apart, I thought about what happened. When I’m focused on something, I get an idea, make a quick decision, and take action.”

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