Page 70 of Kiss Me Now
I wracked my brain trying to think of what I could have ordered from them, but I didn’t remember buying anything online lately, and definitely nothing this size. The only thing left to do was open it. I fetched a pocketknife inside, carefully eased the box flat on the porch, and sliced through the tape.
When I pulled away the cardboard, it looked like a wooden bench made of white-painted wood along with two packages of sturdy chains.
A porch swing? “What in the world...” I dug through the packaging again, but there were no further clues to be had.
Who would send me a porch swing?
I had only ever mentioned the idea to...
Ian.
As if I’d summoned him, my phone vibrated with a text, and his name appeared in my screen. It had been a couple of weeks since I’d heard from him, and my heart did a dopey skipped beat as I opened the message.
Got a delivery alert. Finally figured out how to say sorry like I really mean it. You deserve a porch swing. Let me know when you want it installed and I’ll send Grace over to do it.
I had the strangest feeling of my heart leaping while my stomach sank.
He listened to me!
He sent me a porch swing!
He would hire someone else to hang it rather than come do it himself...
“Brooke Spencer, you are a ridiculous person.” But saying it out loud didn’t make me feel any less simultaneously goofy and annoyed as I picked up and admired each piece of the swing.
I should say no to this,I finally texted back.But I love it too much. So thank you.
There was a long pause before he responded.It was the least I could do.
I closed the box and pushed it against the far edge of the porch until I could get to it, then went inside to get the remaining wallpaper down. But as I worked by myself removing the last pieces from the entryway, instead of the sense of satisfaction that the unending project had an end after all, I pulled the final piece away and realized that I missed listening to Ian do it while he muttered curses to himself when he thought I wasn’t listening.
I missed Ian, period.
The failed date with Noah last night only highlighted what I’d been trying to deny to myself: I was into Ian. In a big way. In a one-slight-nudge-and-I’ll-fall-madly kind of way. And while I hadn’t tumbled yet, he was going to be the shadow looming over any other dates I might have a chance to go on, now or six months from now.
I sat down hard, right in the middle of the foyer amidst the curls of old wallpaper.
What the heck was I supposed to do about that?
I tried to think through all the possibilities.
I could throw myself into my work! But that hadn’t helped take my mind off him so far.
I could try a dating app! But the nearest candidates were an hour away in Charlottesville, and none of their pictures showed the same glint in their eyes that Ian had.
I could ask Miss Lily to set me up with a nice church boy! But I liked Ian’s devilish streak.
I just really liked Ian.
Finally, I pushed up from the floor, dragged myself into the kitchen and fixed myself a cup of fortifying tea before I made my next call. I bowed my head in defeat and surrendered to the inevitable.
“Hey, Mom? I was thinking about coming to visit next weekend over Labor Day.”
