Settling Up (7 page)

“I’d love to see you again if you’re up for it.”

He nodded, but in the middle of the motion, he paused for a second. “My parents are around this week and I’d love for you to meet them.”

My heart fluttered nervously. Uh oh. Parents. On a second date? I liked the guy, but that was a little much. I hardly knew him. How was I supposed to interact with the people who had raised him?

“Oh. Wow. That’s…” I had nothing. I needed an hour to think, analyze, make lists. Either that or seven to fifteen more dates before anything like this happened.

“You’ll love them. They’re great. They’re from the east coast.” He smiled at me, that impressive-wattage smile that would’ve caused some major structural problems (namely in the knee department) were I currently standing.

This had been a great date. I liked Ray a lot. And it sounded like his parents were only visiting for a little bit from the other side of the country, which was probably why he was rushing the meeting. That had to be it. They were headed out and he didn’t want to miss the chance to introduce them to me.

I bit my lip, but nodded. “Sure.”

His brown eyes sparkled with delight and he took my hand in his. “Good! Let’s do dinner with them later this week then. What day works for you?”

I parted with Ray at my car, assuring him that I was quite capable of getting myself inside and buckled. There was a kiss, but one that I won’t talk about in detail for a reason. It was just that. A kiss. It wasn’t bad, necessarily. But there was no spark, no fireworks. His smile had done more to the integrity of my knees than his kiss.

Waiting until he was out of sight, I did my check of my tires and looked under the car. When I stood back up I licked my lips and thought about the firework-less kiss as I started my car and began to drive out of the city, toward home. Even so, tonight had been lovely and I was looking forward to more surprises from Ray.

T
ime has
a way of erasing bad memories, leaving behind only the good. It’s why teachers are ready to go back to class after a break. It’s why I’m guessing mothers decide to have another child after going through a hard pregnancy or birth.

My drive back home and a good night’s sleep proved enough time to make me doubt whether the parents-on-our-second-date thing was really that weird. It also proved adequate time for me to change my mind about the kiss Ray and I shared. At least it wasn’t bad. That was something. Sometimes it takes time to build a spark.

Getting past these two emotional hang ups left me free to float around giddily throughout the weekend. Ray even called to set up our next date for Monday night after my last class. We didn’t have as much to talk about as we had over dinner, but I wasn’t much of a talk-on-the-phone fan anyway.

I had dinner with Betsy and the girls on Saturday since Josh had to work late and Bets had made enough spaghetti for seventeen people (our family has always been unable to correctly measure out uncooked pasta). Once we put the munchkins to bed, I spilled about my date. Sure, Betsy had a few scrunchy-faced moments during my how-the-date-ended explanation, but overall, she agreed with me that he sounded fantastic.

Normally, telling Betsy was kind of where things ended. I chatted with people at work, don’t get me wrong, but they were all pretty busy and when I was at work, I usually focused solely on getting stuff done. We mostly talked about students, university policies, stuff like that; relationships never quite made the list.

But come Sunday, I had this itching feeling in the back of my mind that there was something missing, some
one
I had missed. Mack’s face appeared in mind. I bit my lip and a light fluttering feeling resounded in my chest. That was right. I had a new friend and he would care, did care.

I suddenly wanted nothing more than to hear his take on the ending to my date with Ray. Would he make the same not-sure-about-it-all faces Bets had, or would he say it sounded completely normal? Regardless, I couldn’t help but think about how proud he would be of me giving a guy that was not my normal “type” a fair chance. And liking it, for that matter.

Once the thought of telling Mack was in my head, I couldn’t seem to get rid of it. Waiting until my normal Tuesday morning visit seemed impossible. So, come Monday morning, I found myself heading to the casino for a second Monday in a row, unanticipated, unannounced.

Mack spotted me as I walked into the empty-except-for-old-Liam card room. I twiddled my fingers in a hello as I met his gaze. His eyebrows lifted and I loved the smile that spread across his whole face as he watched me approach him. He was standing behind the Blackjack table and so I slid into one of the empty chairs in front of him.

He quirked an eyebrow. “And to what do I owe this rare and pleasant first day of the week Lauren-sighting?”

I tipped my head. “You mean I can’t just come to see you?”

“Sorry, prof. That logic just doesn’t quite compute.”

An inward frown pulled at my heartstrings for a second. Was he saying he wasn’t worth coming to see? I shook off the question and said, “Of course it does. You’re my friend now. I wanted to come talk to you.”

Mack’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t just need a number fix? A calm-down-session?”

I put my hands up. “Honest. No anxiety here today. I actually have some good things happening that I wanted to share with you.”

“Oh, right. The tattooed cat guy date.”

“Yes. I know you don’t want to tell me what to do, but I thought you might like to hear how it went. And also, if you don’t mind, I’d love to hear your opinion on one or two
tiny
things.” I grinned nice and big at him, hoping he didn’t notice how I’d slipped in that last part.

He chuckled and nodded. “Sure.” His hands started to move across the table and we fell into our routine of talking and playing. “So?” he asked after a few hands.

“Oh, right.” My cheeks flushed hot and I sank into my seat. I wasn’t used to having good news about dates. Even from the years before when I had been actively dating, the stories that time produced were mostly of the unfortunate nature. “He was absolutely great.” I told him all about Ray’s love of books, his funny cat named Catford Squeers (a Dickensian inspired name!), and how I felt like I could talk to him.

“He felt like… well, it felt like I was talking to you. Super easy and like he understood me,” I finished, giving a slight shrug and watching Mack.

His eyebrows lifted for a split second, but then they settled back into a furrowed position. “That’s quite the compliment.” He focused on the cards for a second.

“I’m serious, Mack. I’ve known you now for exactly a week and I feel more comfortable around you than people I’ve known for years. You listen to me, you remember things I say, you don’t look at me like I’m crazy.” My neck was heating up. Oh great, was a bout of red rash oncoming?

Mack blinked. “You’re not crazy, Lauren.”

“Psh. It’s okay. I’ve accepted it. I understand numbers better than people, I can make huge decisions like buying a condo with no problem but agonize over tiny decisions like what to order at restaurants, I can’t get in my car without kicking all of the tires and checking underneath for murderers first, and I haven’t had a closer friend than my sister my entire life.” I let my head fall back in frustration.

He shook his head. “Don’t punish yourself because your brain understands numbers. I would kill to get them like you do. Also, it sounds like you’re just practicing a level of vehicular safety that the rest of us should probably take into consideration. I mean, did you see that horrible horror movie in the nineties where there was a guy under the car and he cut that other guy’s ankles? That’s just self preservation there. As for your sister, she just sounds like an incredible person. Maybe you haven’t met enough of those in your life. Maybe it’s less about you and more about the people who’ve come into your life so far. Or haven’t.”

Even though I knew he was semi-joking with the ankle slashing murderer comment, I appreciated him trying to make me feel better. The heat in my neck subsided.

“Oh, and ordering food from a restaurant is tough. What if you get the wrong thing and it’s bad?”

I opened my hand. “Right? If I go with something I know, I’m usually guaranteed it’ll be good, but what if there’s something better out there that I’m missing by sticking to the same thing?”

Mack shrugged. “A quandary for the ages.” He put our last hand away and dealt a new set. “So your tattooed guy was awesome.” He nodded for me to continue with the story.

I licked my lips and nodded. “Yep.” Fake smile.

“And?”

Looking up at the ceiling. “And what?”

“I may have only known you for a week, but you’re making a very distinct ‘I’m not telling you part of the story’ face.”

I scoffed. “I do
not
have such a face.”

“You have shifty eyes, you keep licking your lips, and your forehead is scrunched just enough to make that line between your eyebrows show up.” He snapped his fingers twice. “Spill. What else happened on the date? I’m guessing it’s the part you said you may or may not need my advice on.” He bit back a smile, obviously proud of himself for catching that.

Darn this listen-intently-and-remember-everything man! I fidgeted with one of my five dollar chips.

“Okay, well the date was wonderful, except at the end… there were just two — odd happenings.”

Mack didn’t say anything, but waited patiently. He wasn’t going to let me get out of this easily.

“You know how you said that when it was right I would feel it? That I would know that I wanted a second date?”

Mack nodded.

“I felt that. I did… until he told me that he wanted me to meet his parents.”

Mack’s fingers froze over the green felt table. “Like in a few weeks or months?”

I shook my head slowly. “Tonight. On our second date.”

He pulled in a deep breath, his substantial chest lifting up, looking even larger when full of this-doesn’t-bode-well air.

“They’re from the east coast,” I said hopefully. “It’s like a use it or lose it situation, right?”

Mack shrugged. “I’m not sure that matters. It’s still pretty darn weird.” He grimaced as if he hated having to tell me that. “Was that the only thing?”

I pulled in a deep breath. “When we kissed at the end of the night, it was…” I stopped mid-thought as I watched Mack’s jaw clench and wondered if I was now officially over-sharing. Maybe hearing the intimate details about my love-life was going too far.

But after a second of looking down at his hands, his eyes flicked back up to mine again. “It was?” His hands circled in the air as he made the universal gesture for “go on”. Okay. So maybe he didn’t think I was over-sharing.

So I went on. “It was kinda meh.”

“Meh?”

“Yeah. No spark really.”

“Really or at all? Those are two pretty different things.”

If I was being honest with myself the answer was at all. It definitely hadn’t been unpleasant, but nothing to write home about.

“At all. Do you think I hyped the date up in my head too much? Expected too much? I had a good time for the first time in a while. Maybe I’ve forgotten what it’s like to kiss someone.” I leaned in close and whispered. “It has been longer than I’d like to admit.”

Mack chuckled at first, but then cleared his throat and placed his hands on the edge of the table. Being this close I could smell a very warm and subtle cologne. But there was another smell I couldn’t quite identify. It was wild and earthy and made me want to lean all the way in until I fell into it. This man, my friend, had become such a comfort to me. I suppose it was no wonder that he smelled comforting, too.

I smiled at him and moved away, knowing I was getting dangerously close to breaking the rules about how close dealer and customer could be and that there were cameras watching us at that very moment.

Mack’s face pulled into a smile, but unlike the rest of the times that day, it seemed like it took an effort. “I’ve always thought that if the spark is there, it’s there. That’s not really something you can create. Sometimes it’ll come over time, but there’s no guarantee.”

“Do you think the lack of spark and the parents coming tonight are deal breakers?” I squinted as I waited for his answer, really not wanting to be the girl who called to cancel the day of the date.

“That’s your call. I can’t see a scenario where it’s not going to be awkward as hell.”

My defensiveness kicked in and I said, “There’s at least one scenario.” I tried to think of the situation in statistical values. I scrunched up my nose. “At least — well — I think there is.”

“If the parents love you, it’ll be weird because they’ll know you just as well as he does, which is pretty much not at all. He’ll be ecstatic, of course. And before you know it, they’re all planning your wedding and you’ve known him for all of three days. Awkward. If the parents hate you, it’ll be uncomfortable because he will obviously have expected a different outcome or else he wouldn’t have set up a meeting. Then you run the risk of a son fighting with his parents in a restaurant… about you. Awkward.”

I listened, wrinkling my forehead more with each of his maddeningly-accurate-sounding reasons. “Well, I don’t think it will be that bad.” I wasn’t usually a stubborn person, but I couldn’t help but grasp at the great times Ray and I had experienced on our date. I suppose I needed the awkward evidence to pile up just a little more before I gave up.

Mack’s slate eyes lit up, like a light glinting off a rough piece of silver. “Wanna bet on it? Winner buys drinks.”

I let out a surprised squeak. “Gamble!?”

Mack shot me an are-you-serious? look. “Laur, we’re in a casino.”

“Yeah, but this is just small stuff.” I waved a hand toward him dismissively. “Plus, you’re talking about gambling with my love life.”

He shrugged. “If you’re too scared, that’s okay.” His tanned skin pulled into an impish grin that made me feel five all over again.

I suddenly had the urge to push him down, yell “nuh uh”, and run away. Instead, I pushed my shoulders back. “Okay. You’re on, buddy boy.”

He chuckled. “Buddy boy? Hey now. Stay cooly cool there, Doctor Sinclair.” He snapped a few times to solidify the
West Side Story
reference.

Whatever semblance of control I had been holding over my face, crumbled as I let my mouth open in disbelief. Mack was a surprise and a half. If I had gone off first impressions (visual ones) only, I would’ve sworn this man was a quiet, macho, made-from-the-same-stuff-as-the-mountains…even down to his stone-cold heart kind of guy. But he was talkative, understanding, funny, and had now referenced one of my all-time favorite musicals.

I managed to clap my gaping mouth closed again while Mack looked to his right, where another dealer was moving to rotate to this table.

“I guess I’ll let you know tomorrow morning, then,” I said as he finished up our last hand.

“Or.” Mack bit his lip.

“Or?”

“Well, the bosses aren’t too crazy about us hanging out with customers like that. Looks bad, like maybe you’re bribing us.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. But I was thinking if you give me your number, I can call you, see how it went, and then we can meet somewhere else. I actually took tomorrow off, so if you don’t mind going without the game… I’m even a better listener when I don’t have to worry about working at the same time.” He flashed me a smile.

My heart clenched reflexively for a moment because first of all, skipping my regular Tuesday appointment? An uncomfortable dryness tickled the back of my throat. That would be like — like — well, I guess like changing the percentages on my list. Something I had thought I could never, would never do. But I had done it and it had turned out just fine. However, even with that fear out of the way, there was still a sweaty, red-faced feeling left behind. After all, this was a boy asking for my number. But it only took a moment to calm down. This wasn’t just any boy. This was Mack. My friend, Mack.

“I’ll write it on a piece of paper and put it on your windshield.” When he gave me a questioning sideways glance, I followed with, “Rachel and I did the same thing. I forgot that they don’t love the idea of dealers being good friends with customers. It’s been a few years since I started coming here.” I winked at him.