Page 7 of Secrets in Love
Me: Yay or nay. Should I go on a date with my boss?
Nope
Me: Brace yourself, Nathaniel… I have some news.
No, that sounds like someone is dying. Gahh, why is this so hard?
Under the guise of hot gossip and genuine advice-seeking, I was texting—or attempting to text—Nate, essentially sniffing out his feelings toward me without actually asking. Killing two birds with one stone. Being a complete wimp. Same, same.
Mature, I know. But I couldn’t seem to ask him straight out, which was a surprise. I’d never been backward in coming forward, but this…this was different. This was Nate, and I was desiring advice about Christian, and kind of us, and…well… I was a not-so-ugly, mid-twenties woman. I was attracted to men, surrounded by men, but had zero experience dealing with them. Sure, I’d dabbled a little in school and college, but as for real-life, grown-up men? That was negatory.
Again, it came back to my emotional stunting and non-romance-conducive living situation. It was easier to hide away and deal with my grief in my own way. I lost myself in Iris and Finn and created my own safe worlds in my home and on paper. Worlds with joy and laughter and happily-ever-afters. It was also easier because, in general, people suck.
But change was in the air. I could smell it. And I thought I was ready for it. I just needed to know what to do.
“Auntie Evie. I am weady!” Iris’s sweet little voice wafted upstairs.
“Okay, honey. I’ll be down in a second.”
I threw my phone onto my bed and hurried to get changed—again. Today was my fourth day at the dance studio. I was already nervous enough about the trial, but the added pressure of Christian most likely expecting an answer about our date had inspired me to change outfits 675 times.
Iris tried again. “Auntie Evie! I think we will be late if we don’t leave now!”
“I know, honey. And I am trying to hurry.” Forced to rush, I settled on the 676th outfit—a light-pink bodysuit under black yoga pants, hoodie, and trainers. It wasn’t fashionable, but it was standard dance attire…and my butt looked good. I grabbed my already packed dance bag containing my pointe shoes, some strapping, water, and an apple, then took one last look in the mirror.Don’t fuck this up, Evie.
Iris was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, her arms crossed over her waist and her little foot tapping against the hardwood floor. My Aunt Jocelyn, who my brother and I had lived with since our parents died, and whose swank multi-million-dollar pad we were staying in, was beside her, pulling the same moves. Fresh off the plane from France and full of wine and gusto, Jocie was riding high on the fumes of a sordid affair with a much younger man. Finn had already left for work. Otherwise, he would probably have been there, adding his two cents too. “According to Iris, you’re late, and she’s unhappy.” Jocie playfully grumbled.
“I’m sorry. I’m just really nervous about—” I looked into Iris’s eyes and stopped. She didn’t know about the trial, and if I told her, Finn would find out in three seconds flat. “About my hair. I’m getting a haircut today. Go grab your bag, honey, and we can go.” Once she was out of earshot, I confessed the real reason for my nerves—well, part of it. “I only have two classes of my trial left, Jocie. What if they decide I’m crap.”
“They couldn’t possibly think that Evie, because you are a wonderful dancer and are brilliant and patient with the kids. Just go out there and give it all you’ve got. It’s your time to shine, my darling.”
Her words and death-grip cuddle remained on my mind as we walked to school. While Iris detailed the beginnings of her Christmas list—it was August—I contemplated.
Many would assume or outright claim that the life of a stay-at-home aunt-parent figure is pretty straightforward and mundane. In my mind, anyone who thinks that can go and get stuffed. Staying at home, working from home, to care for families and children, often at the expense of one’s dreams and career, is a noble, hectic, challenging, frustrating and sometimes lonely act. But let’s face it, a good portion of society ignorantly places little value on domestic duties. I was recently touted as a lady of luxury by a silly, silly delivery man who decided to chat on my doorstep and was lucky to leave it with intact testicles.
Having said that, if you’re in a situation like mine and the kids have started school, you can get a little bored some days. Not for lack of things to do, but rather, a lack of things you want to do. Especially when you’ve almost forgotten what and who you are outside your role in the family. But Jocelyn granting me permission to shine, as she phrased it, felt like I was stepping, perhaps being pushed, back into the role of Evie for the first time in a long time. It felt good but foreign. Like I was the understudy in my own show.
We arrived at school, and after a quick kiss on the cheek, I was immediately ditched by Iris. “Hi, Bunny,” she squealed with glee, and ran off to her gaggle of friends without so much as a wave, leaving me to walk the last remaining block to work. I should have been using the time to run over my lesson notes and prepare for the pre-K cuties, but all I could think of was Nate…and Christian too.
“Evie, wait up. Let me walk with you!”Speak of the devil. I stopped and tried not to vomit from nerves as the man of the hour gracefully thundered up behind me.
“Good morning, HotBo—Uhh, Christian.”Wow, so smooth.“You’re late today. Aren’t you normally at the studio by seven for the seniors’ class?”
He couldn’t hide his smirk. “Right you are. You know my schedule well, Miss Evie. But Rachel is taking the class for me. I had to run to Bleecker and get something from a little specialty supermarket.”
“Oh, I live on Bleecker. Do you mean the Down Under Deli?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Do you know it? Oh, wait, of course you do. I imagine it’s a favorite. It’s funny that I bumped into you, actually. I thought you might like something from home for morning tea and picked this up.” A familiar bag containing an equally familiar-shaped packet was passed to me, and when close enough, he smoothly hooked his little finger around mine and held on. Our eyes locked before his half-hooded gaze drifted to my lips. It was really, really…lovely. Yeah, lovely. I think. He stepped closer and smelled good, like chocolate and red wine mixed into some alluring dancer scent. But for some reason, I thought of Nate and how good and sexy he had always smelled—more earthy and raw, manly maybe. It was a confusing momentary distraction, and when I came to, I thought Christian was about to lean down and kiss me.
So, I yelled in his face.
“Tim Tams! Wow, Christian, that’s so nice of you.”
He jolted back and nervously laughed while rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you like them? The lady at the store said maybe nine out of ten Aussies did, so I figured it was worth a shot. Oh, and they had dark chocolate and originals. I got the original ones because you’re an original, Evie.”Holy shit. Is this guy for real?Poor Christian. I think I stood dumbfounded for quite a while as I saw panic drift across his face. “Damn, that was super corny. Sorry. I’m such a dork and really, really embarrassed.”
I grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. “No, no, it’s not corny. It’s charming. I’m just not used to getting compliments and don’t know how to take it. Normally, I would presume you were after something or just an idiot, but I don’t get that vibe from you. I find it all very confusing, to be honest.”
His confidence returned, as did his smile. “Well, you better get used to being confused because you are pretty amazing. The more people discover you, the more compliments will be thrown your way. Also, not everyone is after something, Evie…or an idiot. Some people are just nice.” His free hand left his side and playfully tugged at a stray curl beside my ear. “And some people just like you and want to do nice things for you.”
