Page 108 of Book and Ladder
On the upside, the lasagna is perfect—comfort food at its best.
I pass on dessert and ask the waiter to bring the check.
“I’ll split with you,” I offer.
“Nonsense,” Tom insists. “I asked you on a date. I’ll pay.”
I wait for a famous quote about chivalry or Ben Franklin’s thoughts on finances, but none comes.
“I had a nice night,” Tom says after giving the waiter his card. “I’d love to take you out again sometime.”
“I think I’m not in the right headspace to date—with everything going on with the shop.”
Tom nods. “I understand. Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with that there is.” He smiles softly. “Hemingway.Old Man and the Sea.”
“I love that novella,” I say.
“It’s a classic.” Tom stands, pulling out my chair, and we walk out of the restaurant together.
He gives me another cordial hug. Tell me why my brain takes that moment to remind me of Patrick’s mouth breathing warmth across my ear before I left for dinner.
On the drive home, I call Carli through my Bluetooth. I need to hear the voice of a friend.
“How was the date?” she asks.
“Good. I tried calling you earlier today. Where were you?”
“Oh! I had my phone off. I was at Cody’s … Uh, the Lawsons’ ranch. Helping with the fall calving.”
“You’re such a stud.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you saw Cody. He’s incredible.” She pauses. “Anyway, tell me all about Tom.”
“There’s nothing to tell unless you want a refresher in ancient history.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Is it pathetic that I just want to run home and tell the host of the podcast all about it?”
“He’s the pathetic one. You’re too good for him—obviously.”
“Is that the problem? I’m too good?”
“Yes. And don’t you forget it.”
I pull up to my apartment. Thankfully, Patrick is not perched on my porch steps. Carli and I say goodnight. I slip into my pajamas and snuggle under the covers. Then, against my better judgment, I open the podcast app and listen to the latest episode.
Chapter 29
Patrick
The best day of your life is the one on which
you decide your life is your own.
No apologies or excuses.
~Bob Moawad
