Page 76 of The Fix Up

“It sounds like we’re already off to a good start, then.”

He plunked a tall, froth-filled glass in front of her. She hesitated, then hooked a finger around the old-fashioned red and white striped straw that looked like something from a retro soda shop. She wrapped her lips around it, conscious of Ben’s eyes on her as she took her first sip.

“How is it?” he asked, leaning against the bar beside her and setting down his own glass.

“Delicious,” she said, taking another sip. “But it’s not a root beer float. What is it?”

“Yours is a lemon ginger float made with ginger beer and lemon sorbet. Mine is a classic PB & J float made with peanut butter ice cream and grape soda. Here, try some.”

She did, savoring the delicious blend of sweet and nutty, savory and fruity. “It’s good,” she said. “They’re both great.”

Ben took a drink of hers and made a face, then grabbed his glass back. “I’m not a fan of yours, but this one’s tasty.” He scooped up a spoonful of ice cream, looking thoughtful. “And you know, that’s okay.”

“What’s okay?”

“We can try different things or branch out in different directions without losing the core of ourselves or our belief in the other person. Hell, I can even decide I like Laphroiag.”

“You’re being philosophical about beverages now?”

“I am. This is my literary geek side. Did I mention I double-minored in philosophy and English?”

“You didn’t.”

“I am a man of many facets,” he said, licking his spoon in a way Holly wished didn’t make her think of what else he could do with his mouth. He caught her staring and grinned.

“Many facets,” Holly repeated. “You don’t say.”

“So it’s okay for us to experiment and try new things and let our tastes evolve and support each other through career changes and life transitions and all kinds of other bullshit. But you know what’s not okay?”

“What?”

“Me being apart from you for even another day. I’ve missed you, Holly.”

She swallowed hard, her throat clogging with emotion and lemon sorbet. “I’ve missed you, too.” She nudged her glass aside, willing herself not to get choked up. “And I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry for not giving you the benefit of the doubt. For not trusting who you were at the core of it all. For thinking you could ever be like your father or like my ex-husband.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for not seeing earlier how scared you were and that I needed to do a better job showing you I had no intention of becoming a workaholic jerk like my father.”

“You’ve shown me now,” she said. “I believe you.”

“I won’t claim I won’t have my jerky moments, but you’re always free to call me on it. That’s the way relationships work. We’re both going to screw up every now and then.”

He grinned and set his glass down, reaching for her hands. She looked down at them, feeling inexplicably happy at the sight of their intertwined fingers. When she met his gaze again, she smiled.

“So I’m sorry and you’re sorry,” she said.

“It looks that way.”

“Okay, but who screwed up more?”

“What?”

She grinned. “I think we need to settle this fairly.”

“Oh?”

“And I have an idea.”

“Do tell.”

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