Of Happiness (5 page)

“Um, she was definitely flirting with you,” Sean says. “You know, if it doesn’t work out with Harris, you can give her a call.”

Now a real smile breaks out. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What is this?” Dad asks, retrieving a white envelope. “There’s no check in here and this is addressed to you.”

My eyes immediately fly to Luke, who looks painfully nervous. “What’s going on, Luke?”

He starts chewing on his lower lip. “He asked me if we were going to dinner tonight. I didn’t know what he was going to do with the information.”

Dad hands me the ivory envelope with
Edith
scrawled by a masculine hand on the front. Anxiously I slide my finger underneath the flap and carefully slip the paper open. There’s a thick card with
Harris Grant
embossed at the top in black.

Edith,

There isn’t enough space on this card to express how sorry I am for betraying your trust and disrespecting you. I should have done so many things differently. When I should have defended you, I froze. When I should have spoken, I was silent. For this, I will always be sorry. But as you may recall I’m a persistent self-admitted idiot. I don’t plan on letting you go. Tonight I don’t have the privilege of dining with you, but please allow me the honor of covering the bill. Next time, I will treat you to sushi and anything else that your heart desires.

Baby, I’m so very sorry. Please forgive me.

Harris

My mouth must be hanging open because Sean gently presses a closed fist to my jaw to force my lips closed. “What does it say?”

“Harris is sorry.”

First he contacted his assistant to inquire about my well-being. Then he runs off at the request of my father, and suddenly now he’s sorry? The man is maddening.

Sean rips the card from my hand and begins greedily reading the note.

“Sean! Don’t you ever ask?” Luke moans.

I barely notice their squabbling. “He paid for our dinner,” I tell them. “And now he wants me back.”

Dad’s back in police lieutenant mode, watching my every movement through narrowed eyes. “What do you think?”

Turning slowly, I give him my full attention. Luke and Sean go quiet waiting for my response. “He needs to talk to me in person. He’s hardly said ten words to me since Saturday night.”

“He hasn’t earned back your trust,” Dad comments.

“If we get back together, then he has to give me what I’ve already give him: honesty.”

Sean nods. “That note didn’t mention slamming an emotional door in your face
before
letting his sister stomp all over you.”

“The only way he and I will figure this out is by talking in person. But I think I’d like to wait until after my bonding trip with Dad is over.”

“Speaking of the bonding trip, don’t you think we should go to open mic tomorrow?” Sean asks innocently.

“I’d like to, if Ed’s on board,” Dad speaks up.

“Okay,” I agree because even though a swarm of butterflies have taken flight in my stomach, this is the first time since I was a little kid that Dad specifically asked to hear me play the piano. It’s a momentary reprieve from the confusion over Harris.

After Dad drops us back at Sean and Luke’s, I retreat into my temporary bedroom. I clutch Harris’ letter in my hands; I haven’t let it go since I stole it back from Sean.

As usual, Sarah was right. Not more than two days since Saturday’s fiasco, Harris has sought me out. It would be so easy to call him and say that I’m ready to fall back into his arm. But (Sarah was right
again
) I am terrified of his ability to hurt me. Being vulnerable is harder than it looks. 

 Not to mention his card didn’t recognize the way he shut me out. Sure, he apologized for the mess that Claire created, but Harris wouldn’t talk to me before that whole disaster.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I drop the envelope on my lap and pull out the letter. I trace his signature as a throbbing ache grows in my temples.

I miss him.

“
D
on’t be nervous, Ed,” Dad says when we seat ourselves at a four-top square table.

I smile wryly at him. “Was I that obvious?”

Tonight my roommates are meeting Dad and me at Rusty’s, the open mic bar. Until they get here, it’s just the two of us sitting in the low-lit pub. I’m more uneasy than the last time I was here. Peaceful sleep and I haven’t spent much time together since Saturday. Restlessness plagues me.

 My mood swings between exuberance and anxiety. I’m thrilled to play in front of Dad, but I’m awash with nerves because at last week’s open mic—it’s hard to believe only one week passed—Harris surprised me. His appearance at the bar was after the first time Claire pushed us apart. It didn’t take much convincing for us to reunite, and then she managed to wedge between us again.

After reading his letter yesterday, I know he’ll track me down to hash it out in person. But when will I see him next? He’s constantly showing up when I least expect him. Then again his element of surprise has always thrilled me.

 “When she was pregnant, your mother would play for hours and hours until I begged her to take a break,” Dad reveals.

The insight into my mother offers a momentary relief to the inner turmoil. “I really love it when you share things about her with me. I want to know everything there is to know.”

“You will. Whenever you have a question, just ask me, and I won’t tell you no.”

 “What you just said reminded me, some nights I’d get so caught up in the music that I would stop, like, an hour before you came back from the night shift.”

We share a smile at the memories.

Like he promised, Dad demonstrated how devoted he is to making our relationship work. Today he came by Sean and Luke’s to hang out with me while I blogged and concocted a social media campaign. Over a lunch that I made us, old habits die hard, Dad revealed that he read my blog, not daily, but caught up on posts when he wasn’t at the station or on his beat. When I suggested he write a post for Your Perfect Place, the stoic man actually blushed, and agreed to write about the top five things every man needs in his home. I’m sharing it on the blog next week.    

“Quick! Pull out your lip gloss,” Sean instructs as he drops into the open seat next to me.

“What?” I laugh.

He tugs my purse out of my lap and begins rifling through with frantic fingers. When he finds the berry-colored stick, he instructs me to part my lips.

“What’s going on?” I mutter through my frozen facial expression. My eyes dart to Luke, who wrings his hands in his seat next to my dad.

“Ponytail doesn’t have enough volume,” Sean says to himself as stretches behind me to tighten the elastic on my hair. Then he reaches forward and musses the fine strands around my face, giving a more messy appearance than I’m used to. “I guess your outfit will do.” I look down at my cuffed boyfriend jeans, gray muted leopard tank, and navy blue cardigan. The anxiety I had sort of forgotten about reestablishes itself firmly as a boulder in my gut.

“Luke,” I say gravely. “Tell me.”

“He insisted,” he says softly.  “I’m sorry, I should have asked you first—”

An inexplicable shiver rolls through my shoulders. The low murmur of my friends and the other patrons at Rusty’s falls away.
 

Harris.

He’s the only person who elicits this type of bodily response. I remain rigid and unmoving except for my sweaty palms which I place on my thighs.

“Luke, my man! How are you?” A strong hand slaps Luke’s shoulder.

“Matt, hey.” His worried expression eases into a cheerful one when he shakes hands with a man wearing a large, black boot cast. Next to Matt is the beautiful, caramel-haired woman, Jane, who was with Harris in his convertible.

And then it’s him.

Harris’ masculine scent surrounds me. He braces his arms on the back of my chair, overwhelming me with his physical presence. I’m swirling in a sea of Harris, unable to resist his pull. He dips closer and then his lips brush oh so gently against my flushed cheek. The intimate contact sends my heart into overdrive.

“Hello, Edith,” he murmurs against my skin before pulling away.

I nearly swoon against the wood chair.
Damn.

Just as quickly as he made his presence known, he’s moving on, shaking hands with Sean, Luke, and then
my dad.
They even exchange an understanding smile while I watch in a state of bemusement. Quite a turn from protective papa bear/enraged lover near fight from Saturday night.

“Hi, I’m Jane,” the woman says, circling the table to stand next to me.

“Eddie. It’s nice to meet you,” I say, rising to shake her hand and offering a weak smile. She returns it with her own friendly and welcoming grin. I feel comfortable with her right away. Then Matt’s hobbling toward us.

“Fuckin’ Achilles.” He rolls his eyes. To my surprise, he sweeps me into a hug, lifting me off my feet. “Finally get to meet the infamous Eddie.”

Infamous?

“Put her down,” Harris rumbles from my left, and Matt places me on flat feet.

“Nice to meet you too.” My voice betrays my confusion, but no one explains the odd situation. Harris introduces my father to his friends while I watch, dumbfounded. I drop back in my seat, clasping my twitchy hands together.

In the background, Sean and Luke tug over another table and three chairs for the new additions.

Did Saturday not happen? Is this a dream?
Thankfully Sean resumes his seat next to me, forcing Harris one place away. When he’s seated, Harris angles his body toward mine, his sharp gray eyes honing in on me. Reaching out, I pinch the skin on Sean’s bare forearm between my thumb and pointer finger.

“Ouch! What was that for?” He winces.

A smile flirts at my lips as I attempt to shake away my dazed expression. “Just checking.”
To see if I’m awake,
I finish silently.

The singing waiter from last week, Ben, saves our motley crew from launching into uneasy conversation as he takes our orders. Everyone but Harris and I order beers. I’m avoiding drinking because I’m about to sing, but he has other reasons that he’s yet to divulge to me.

“Okay.” Sean claps his hands together. “This is uber-awkward. I think we need an icebreaker.”

“Sean,” Luke groans, dropping his face into his palms. “No icebreakers tonight, please.”

“Now I’m intrigued. Let’s hear what you have in mind,” Jane says, leaning forward eagerly.

Matt stretches a lazy arm around the back of her chair. “I’m all ears.”

Harris remains silent, still watching me intently.

Sean presses his chest into the edge of the table and sweeps his gaze across everyone sitting around him. “Let’s play
That Awkward Moment When
…”

“Not a good idea,” Luke chastises softly as Ben arrives with our drinks and begins placing them on the empty spaces on the table.

Sean ignores his other half, continuing with the instructions. “Basically you just fill in the blank after
That Awkward Moment When…
with a story from your own life.”

“Can you give an example?” my dad asks with an amused expression and a raised eyebrow. Meanwhile I’m frantic.
What is Sean thinking?
This could get uncomfortable really quickly.

“Yes, I would love to. That awkward moment when you ask a guy out for the first time, ever, and he turns you down. Why? Because his girlfriend shimmies up just as you’ve invited him to the roller rink and proceeds to make out with him. I was too young to know that sharing a pen in class wasn’t a come on.”

Everyone at the table laughs and even I chuckle at the picture Sean portrayed.

“Okay, okay, I have one!” Jane says excitedly. “That awkward moment when you trip up a flight of stairs in the middle of an interview for your dream job. Then when the interviewer tries to help you stand, you accidentally pull him down next to you.”

Sean and I gasp. He covers his mouth with his hand dramatically.

“Oh no! Did you get the job?” Luke wonders.