All Your Firsts Without Me, page 12
“Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
He laughs, but I give him a stern look.
“What?” He raises an eyebrow.
“You’ll look back on this day and you’ll thank your lucky stars for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
“I love you, man, but your cryptic way of speaking is lost on me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Westin ~ Present
I’ve been playing that day in the bar over and over again. Why does it feel so important? I mean, yeah, she’s opening up to me, letting me in and I felt honored that she shared one of her few good childhood memories with me. That in itself is huge, but something about that toast to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich feels bigger, monumental even.
I stare at her photo, trying to make sense of it all.
My phone pings. When I pull it out, I see it’s from an unknown number.
Someone sent me a photo.
I sit up straight on my bed, dropping the polaroid in my hand because I have something much better. It’s not a stolen picture but a freely given one. And holy hell, it’s beautiful. It’s a selfie of her and Lucky, the sun setting behind them. The caption reads, I’m tossing you a pebble… I love sunsets.
Me: Do you and David always speak in cryptic messages.
Her: Lol. Yes. And I love that you referred to him in present tense.
Me: Because I know he will always be present in your life.
Her: ….
Her: ….
Her: I think I kinda like you.
Me: Well, that’s good because I kinda like you too.
Her: We’re getting a little cheesy now.
Me: I like cheese.
Her: Would you like to go on a double date with me next Friday night?
Me: Yes.
Her: No hesitation?
Me: No hesitation.
Her: Thank you for today.
Me: Thank you for the peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Her: You’re welcome. Good night, Westin.
Me: Sweet dreams, April.
Tonight, I don’t feel as lonely, knowing her number is now stored safely in my phone, along with her sweet, smiling face.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
April
So, this is already a disaster. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at the grill. I don’t even know how to turn the damn thing on. Why did I think I could entertain guests without David?
They’re going to be here soon, and I haven’t even gotten the grill started. A few car doors slam, but it doesn’t deter my stare off with my glaring failure... stupid thing.
“April, what’s wrong?” Giles and his wife, Bev, rush towards me.
“I… I don’t even know how to start it. He tried to show me everything I would need to know, but he never showed me this and now… and now it’s too late,” I wail.
“It’s not too late to learn,” Giles chides gently. “Here let me show you. No need for tears.” He wipes the wetness from my face with his hands, brushing it off on his jeans. He lifts the lid to the grill and shows me how to light the burners.
“Thank you,” I say on a hiccup, placing the steaks on the rack.
“It’s okay to ask for help, honey. You need to remember that.” He nudges me in the shoulder as he adjusts the flames to the correct temp.
“Why don’t we let Giles take over the grilling.” Bev wraps her arm around my shoulders and guides me back into the house. “What do you need help with?”
“Everything else is ready,” I tell her, hiding behind my hair, my cheeks pink over my meltdown.
I told them to come thirty minutes earlier than Westin. Good thinking on my part. My nerves are getting the best of me.
She runs her hands up and down my arms as if she’s warming me. “Relax, sweetheart, just be yourself.”
“Have you met Westin?” I ask.
Nodding, she pours us each a glass of wine. “Just once at the funeral.”
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she says handing me a glass. “I think it might be the most romantic gesture I’ve ever heard.”
“But what if Westin doesn’t like me when he gets to know me. What if I don’t like him?”
She shrugs. “Then you walk away with a new friend. Do you at least see him as that much?”
“Yes,” I admit honestly. “But I come with a whole slew of issues that he doesn’t know about.”
“And I’m sure he does too. That’s part of any relationship. Romantic or otherwise. It’s a journey of discovery.” She walks us out to the couch. “And that never ends. We grow, we change, there is always something new to learn. I’m just now learning how much of a soft heart my husband has.”
I giggle, watching Giles through the window. “I think he’s finally starting to like me.”
Her eyebrows pull together. “He’s always liked you. What do you mean?”
“Oh, I don’t think he liked me very much in the beginning. When David and I announced our relationship, he seemed angry.”
“He was but not at you. He was mad at David. He was worried he was taking advantage of you.”
I start to defend David, but she holds up her hand.
“Giles thinks of you as the daughter he never had.”
I pull my head back. What?
“And I think any dad would have questioned what was going on between the two of you. Now don’t get me wrong, we both love David and I know he would never intentionally hurt you, but from the outside it was hard to understand. Giles punched David right in the nose the day he told us.”
“What?” I screech, my eyes about to pop out of my head. “David never said anything.”
“He wouldn’t have wanted you to worry. Once he explained, Giles settled down. But I don’t think he really understood until your book came out.”
“But I didn’t write about David’s and I’s relationship.”
“I know, but you wrote about many other things. Things no one should have to go through. It was then he saw what David had. He understood why David might have fallen in love with you, why he wanted to help guide you and love you in as many ways as he could. You deserved that.”
We both turn to look out the window when masculine laughter filters in from outside. “He’s here,” I whisper.
She gives me an encouraging smile. “Let’s take the food outside. Remember, just be yourself.”
I nod and follow her outside with the salad.
Westin gives Bev a kiss on the cheek in greeting as she sets the bowl she’s carrying on the table.
“Beverly, it’s so nice to see you again,” he says, his boyish charm on full display.
She gives him a quick peck and then excuses herself inside to grab the rolls.
Westin’s gaze travels to me as a slow smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. A cute little dimple pierces his cheek. “April,” he nods, tipping his beer at me.
“Westin,” I say, dipping my head and blushing.
Giles watches us intensely. He breaks the silence that follows, “I think these are about done, honey. You got some place for me to put them?”
“Shoot, yeah, just a second.” I dash back into the house to grab a platter.
Lucky is whining at my bedroom door. I wasn’t sure if Giles and Bev would like a dog pestering them, so I locked her in my room. Her cries are making me feel incredibly guilty though.
“You got a dog?” Bev asks as she picks up her glass and the dish of homemade dinner rolls.
“Yeah, I usually let her roam the house but since I had guests…”
“Lord, don’t worry about us. Go let your pup out. She won’t bother us one bit.”
The rest of dinner goes smoothly. We talk about so many things. The vacation that Giles and Bev are taking to Alaska. The new song Westin is working on for a big-name artist. I even talk a bit about Lucky. But we don’t talk about him. Once dinner is done, we clean up and move inside. The wind is a bit chilly tonight.
We have desert and a few more drinks before Giles and Bev announce they are going to call it an evening. I jump to my feet. “Oh, are you sure you can’t stay a little longer?” I ask, suddenly nervous to be alone with Westin.
“Sorry, honey, I’ve got to go into the office in the morning. I’m helping on a tough case.” Giles pulls me in for a hug, before patting my arm and heading out the door behind Bev.
Westin and I walk them out and wave as they drive away. We both stand there awkwardly for a few minutes. “I… I suppose I should head out too. Unless you’re up for a quick game of scrabble,” he says, rocking back on his heels.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have any board games. I’ve never played scrabble,” I tell him.
He points to his jeep. “I brought mine.” He cocks an eyebrow, and my stomach does a weird flippy thing.
“Oh, well, yeah. We could do that.”
Westin bounds over to his jeep in two big steps and grabs his game. “It’s easy. You’ll get the hang of it in no time,” he tells me.
He sets the game up on the coffee table while I grab him another beer and pour myself a glass of wine. I sit down across from him on the floor. He rubs his hands together, takes a quick swallow of beer and then proceeds to explain how the game is played.
We start out pretty quiet but as the evening progresses, I begin to relax.
“Chairdrobe is not a word,” I argue with him.
“It is,” he says, his dimple making another grand appearance.
“No, it’s not.”
“I promise it is.”
“What does it mean then?”
“It’s a chair that you pile clothes on,” he deadpans.
I bust out laughing. “Okay, I’ll let you have it but only because you’re so creative.” I shove him in the shoulder. “But it’s still not a real word.”
“Oh, just wait, I’ve got all kinds of new words for you.”
He grimaces as he stretches his long legs out in front of him. His jeans ride up at his ankle and it’s then I notice he has a prosthetic leg. Hastily, he pulls his pant leg down.
We go back to the game, but he avoids my gaze. The mood has shifted, and he is quiet.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, placing my pieces on the board.
He sighs loudly and picks himself up off the floor. “I’m sorry, I should have told you. I’ll go.”
I hop up, grabbing his arm, spinning him to face me. “What? Why?”
He stares down at me, the corner of his eyes creased in pain. “Because, I should have warned you.”
“Warned me about what?”
“That I only have one leg.” He shakes his head and tries to pull away from me, but I only increase my death grip on his arm.
“And?”
“And I know it bothers people.”
“Westin, it doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t change how I see you at all.”
He blinks a few times. He presses his thumbs in the corner of his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says before rushing out.
Lucky dances around my feet, questioning what just happened.
“I don’t know, girl. I don’t know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Westin
I roll over in bed, growling as the sun pours in through the blinds I neglected to close last night. “God, I’m an idiot,” I groan.
Someone is pounding on my door.
Go away.
I pull myself to a sitting position, pulling on my prosthetic and grabbing a pair of jeans off the back of a chair. My chairdrobe. I cringe, recalling last night.
Goddammit, whoever it is, they are not giving in. I glance at the clock. Eight in the morning. Who in the fuck is at my house on a Saturday morning at the ass crack of dawn?
I pad my way down the hall, thinking it’s a delivery man and he’s needing a signature but when I whip the door open, there stands April. Her cheeks are bright pink from the cold morning air. She has a huge box and two coffees in her hands.
“April, what are you doing here?”
She looks down at the box in her hand. “Well, I figured we were even and…”
“Even?”
Golden eyes peek at me from under her long lashes. “Yeah, I ran out on you and now you’ve run out on me. We’re even.”
I stand there for a moment. She’s absolutely right. I ran out on her last night. Jesus help me, I am an idiot.
“Um, can I come in?” she asks hesitantly.
“Oh, yes, sorry.” I take the box from her and shift to the side so she can slide past me.
She heads to the dining room and sets the coffee down before taking the box from me. “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I bought one of everything.” She peels back the lid, revealing dozens of brightly colored donuts. Her eyes drop to my naked chest, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.
“Let me get dressed, I’ll be right back.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Don’t get dressed on my account.”
I think she’s flirting with me and it may be the most adorable thing I’ve ever witnessed. A blush runs up her neck, staining her skin a delightful shade of crimson. I chuckle, which only deepens the color.
“I’ll just put a shirt on and be right back.”
Her head bobs once as she gives my torso another perusal. At least she likes what she sees from my waist up, but that’s not where the problem lies. It’s my lower half that was mangled in the accident.
When I get back, she’s nibbling on a donut. She’s nervous.
I can’t believe she’s here.
Shit, she came to me.
This is big.
This is everything.
“Hey.” I sit down beside her. She pushes a coffee in front of me. “I’m sorry about last night,” I tell her, dipping my head to capture her gaze.
She waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, we’re even.”
“Yeah, but that was very rude of me.” I pick a chocolate donut out of the box and set it on a napkin.
“I understand. You weren’t ready to share that part of yourself. I have scars too…” she turns her face away to stare out the window.
An ache settles in my chest at the pain on her face. “I’m sorry,” I say. I don’t know what more to add. I’m not sure what scars she’s talking about but by the look on her face, they conjure bad memories.
Her golden eyes snag on mine. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” She leans forward on the table, clasping her hands in front of her. “One thing I learned from David is that it’s okay to ask people for what you need from them.”
“What do you need from me?”
“If we’re going to see what this could be, then we need to not run away from each other when things get scary.” She scoots back in her chair, taking a deep breath. “I promise not to run from you when things get tough. Can you promise me the same?”
My heart thunders as she stares at me. “You mean, you still want to give this a try?”
“Why wouldn’t I? Because you’re missing a leg? That is not a deal breaker and if it was for someone else then it was their loss.”
“How did you get to be so perfect?” I ask.
“I’m not and you know that.” She cocks an eyebrow at me.
“In my eyes you are,” I say quietly, taking her hands in mine. “I promise I won’t run from you.” And I won’t. I’m not letting her get away.
“Is that why you were drawn to Lucky?” she asks, pulling her hand from mine to grab another donut.
I watch in utter rapture as she plucks sprinkles off of it and daintily places them on her tongue.
I swallow hard, willing myself to focus. “Partly. My accident happened on the same highway as hers.”
She grabs my hand, slowly bringing it to her face, gently she holds it against her cheek. April turns and presses her lips to the center of my palm. A shiver runs down my entire body from head to toe. “Thank you for sharing a piece of yourself with me.” The smile she gives me brightens the whole damn room.
“What are we going to do with all of these donuts?” I ask, wanting to change the topic to a more upbeat one.
She taps her finger over her lips. “We could take them to the nursing home.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll grab my keys.” I pop the last bite in my mouth.
“Then we have a game of scrabble to finish.”
I laugh, “You know I was winning, right?”
She stands up, shutting the box. “It’s not over till it’s over.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
April
The weeks have flown by. Westin and I meet up every Wednesday at the nursing home. We volunteer and then have lunch together. We also have date nights every Friday and then we spend either Saturday or Sunday afternoon together.
We’ve spent the time getting to know each other. We haven’t done more than hold hands though. Sometimes if we are sitting next to each other, he might put his arm around me. It’s sweet that he is allowing me to take this slow.
I think he realizes I still need time for myself. I’m still aching for David. It’s strange to have your heart break and mend at the same time. When I’m with Westin, things are great and I’m happy. Really, really happy. But when I’m alone, my body literally yearns for David. I miss him so much.
Today is six months since his passing, and I don’t know how to feel about it. It feels wrong to let myself be with Westin. I’ve been holding back. He knows it too. Sometimes he will lean in close, and I think he’s about to kiss me, but he holds himself there, waiting for me to take those last few inches. I never do.
Westin and I have talked about this day. We decided to go ahead with David’s wishes. We are both supposed to go to the bar tonight. I asked everyone else if they had the same instructions. Seems Westin and I were the only two.
I wish there were a letter for today. I’m down to a handful. The hard ones. My fingers riffle through the remaining envelopes. Your first kiss.
