Page 12 of Untangled
“She’ll be fine, Molls. Ready for today’s card?”
“Hmm?” I shake myself out of my questioning to Daniel drumming his fingertips on the deck, which he’s placed on the table.
“Want to read today’s prompt?”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” I answer. “Let’s hope it’s appropriate for public discussion.” So far, none of the prompts have been particularly risque, much to Daniel’s disappointment. With today marking the end of the first week, I wonder if that’s about to change.
“What character trait do you appreciate most in your partner?” he reads, before flipping the card back and forth between his pointer and middle fingers.
I breathe a sigh of relief that it didn’t ask us to discuss our favorite sex positions.This, I can do here. He smiles, soft and genuine.
“You’re going to get a big head, aren’t you?” I reply, lifting my eyebrows in his direction.
“Depends. How nice are you going to be?”
“You can grade me on it when I’m done,” I ask, before pulling my lips between my teeth to think. “Hmm, favorite character trait. If it was a physical trait, the answer would be obvious: your hair.”
“That’s obvious?”
“Yes! I love your hair. Also your shoulders, but that’s another conversation for another time.”
“Or we can continue it now…” he says, taking a sip of his liquor.
“No, I can answer. My favorite character trait is that you’re loyal. Actually, how about the top two? Loyal and level-headed. You’d die for me and Violet—literally. If a bus were coming our way, you’d jump in front of it and tryto stop it with your bare hands. If a woman approached you at a bar, you’d show off your wedding ring and tell her what an amazing wife I am. And when I’m catastrophizing—like right now, with Violet at home—you speak to my heart with logic and assurance. You always know just when I need it.”
His face softens with the words, melts into a calm, content expression while his eyes spark with pride.
“That’s exactly what I want to be for you. Thank you for saying that. I’ll try not to let it go to my head but that was quite the compliment, so no promises,” he replies with one side of his lips turned up, devious. I kick him gently under the table in response.
“My turn,” he continues, without acknowledgement of my wandering foot. “You are so patient, Molls. I watch you with Violet and you have the patience of a saint. You let her figure things out herself when my hands are screaming tojust fix it, already. You are patient with me too, with the ways I fall short and with my stupid dad jokes and when I get home late for dinner. And you’re curious too. You genuinely want to know how people are doing, and how you might help them. You want to find solutions—like this Advent challenge you found for us. Your curiosity is one of my favorite things about you.”
Well, if it isn’t my heart swelling two sizes in my chest, like the Grinch himself, under Daniel’s praise. God, I want to pluck this feeling and place it in a jar, beautiful and delicate,to store behind my mirror for the days when all I see in myself is failure.
“How’s that?” he asks, before the waiter swings by to ask, “Another round?”
“I’m good,” I reply, to both men. Because I am. I’m so very good.
“Nah, we’re all set for now,” Daniel confirms.
“We should do this more often,” I reply when it’s just the two of us again.
“Go out?”
“Yeah. And also say nice things to each other. I like it.”
“You’re an easy person to say nice things about. Because I likeyou,” he counters.
“You’re going to givemea big head if you keep talking like that.”
“Good. I like your head.”
The double entendre lands perfectly. An attempt to cough can’t cover up my giggle, and soon he’s chuckling too, and then we’re ensnared by can’t-breathe, can’t-talk, tears-leaking, gasping laughter, which holds us hostage until it decides it’s done with us.
And I think,what a beautiful night.
And it is.
Day 8
