Page 34 of Clean Sweep
8
TANNER
The urge to call Leslie and ask her on a date was almost overwhelming, but I wrangled it under control through Thanksgiving and into the days that followed.
The end of November slid into the first of December without change. The warm tones of fall were abandoned for the cool ice of winter almost everywhere.
Later the next week, I sat in my truck outside the Frolicking Moose and stared at glittering snowflakes that dangled from the ceiling. White tinsel brightened sparkling lights that blinked. Blue and silver words filled the chalkboard with Christmassy flavors like peppermint and eggnog.
Was Leslie inside?
I forced the question away as Celeste climbed into the truck.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hey sport.”
“Good day?”
She reached behind her for her seatbelt and missed my baleful glance inside again. No sign of Leslie. I pulled the truck out of park and forced myself to navigate away. Leslie and I had spent less than a day in each other’s company.Whycouldn’t I get her out of my head?
“Dad?”
I jerked back to life. “Sorry, what?”
Celeste peered at me, already suspicious. “I asked if you had a good day and you totally ignored it. Everything all right?”
“Oh, sorry. Yes. Today was fine. You?”
While Celeste chattered non-stop about school, I headed to the canyon and pretended like I wasn’t curious about the Frolicking Moose. Like I didn’t want to suck all the details out of my daughter so I’d know what happened in Leslie’s life.
My forced silence was punishment, pure and simple. If I wasn’t going to ask Leslie on a date myself, I didn’t get to ask my daughter for an update on Leslie’s life.
Simple.
But hard.
Something held me back from asking. Something stupid. Something that stopped me from asking other qualified women out on dates for years.
Stasis.
After navigating a marriage, a pregnancy, a baby, and a divorce, for years all I had craved was stability. A life without the pitching up and down that came with relationships and change and a young kid.
Over time, that’s exactly what I’d created.
Even with Celeste living in between both her parents, I’d created a steady career or two, let them ride me out, and now I had no mortgage, two fantastic cars, a girl about to go to college with a savings account that I’d built up for her, and a fairly easy life, all things considered.
What if Leslie was the one who interrupted that?
While the canyon whizzed past us, blunted in the late light, Celeste yawned sleepily on the seat next to me. Her light had been on for far too late last night, probably catching up on homework. Living an hour away from school meant earlier-than-usual mornings, but it was still better than being homeschooled. Mountain life didn’t leave a lot of options.
We didn’t speak as I navigated back toward home, Leslie still on my mind.
One date did not a marriage make—or so I told myself. With Leslie it was different. I’d been on plenty of dates over the years. Not many of them, because Celeste had been younger and my work as a coach had been more consuming, but enough that I wasn’t totally out of the game. Dating never caused me any fear, because none of them had any real chance of going beyond a single date. I’d made sure of that before I asked.
Leslie posed a whole new challenge.
First, she was a real candidate. If I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life alone, Leslie was the kind of woman that could be part of a feasible future between us. We hardly knew each other, yet I could already recognize the potential connection. That was problematic for the easy stasis I’d created.
