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Oh how much things can change in 24 hours. Yesterday I was the most miserable I have ever been. Today? Happiest I have ever been.
I know I should have skipped lunch today, especially since I didn’t get much work done yesterday, but when Mark texted and asked me, I couldn’t say no. I just want to spend all the time I can with him. It came down to being distracted looking at him or being distracted thinking about him. Frankly, I prefer the eye candy.
Mark’s phone rings while we sit at our table and wait for our number to be called. I can see from here that it’s Jack, but Mark doesn’t answer. Mark still hasn’t said what made him want to move back to Ridgeview, but I have a sneaking suspicion that in one way or another Jack is behind it. I don’t have many memories of the man, and the ones that I do are fuzzy. Of the few things Jonathan has said over the years very few have been positive. But I would find it hard to say anything positive about a man who did nothing but demanded perfection, constantly bailed on promises, and ultimately abandoned his family.
I don’t think I’ve even seen the man since I went with Mark, Jonathan and Rosie to his wedding when I was sixteen. It was the first time I had ever truly seen how much of an effect he had on them. Rosie was a nervous mess, which is the complete opposite of her calm and cool demeanor. She has the least memories of the divorce since she was barely a year old when it happened. I think she only went to the wedding because it was expected she attend.
Jonathan was just less that night. Less animated. Less opinionated. Less vocal. Less him. He sat back subdued, hardly talking to anyone. Jonathan is one of the most extroverted people I know. He can make friends with anyone in a matter of minutes but put him in a country club surrounded by his father’s future in-laws and friends, and the overly talkative boy became a mute.
Mark’s behavior was the most surprising to me that night. He had been away at school, and we hadn’t seen him. It was after his injury and subsequent surgery, and he was just lost. He wasn’t the Mark I had grown up knowing. He was more cynical and got angry about little things Jack would say. The Mark I knew would never have called out his dad for leaving like he did, at least not somewhere as public as the man’s wedding. Now as an adult I can see how much Mark was hurting. He had lost one of the most constants in his life when he lost baseball, and yet all he had ever wanted was to be noticed by his dad. The man who rather than showing up for his kids chose to put himself first. Even the stories Jack told that night were to put him in a good light, make him look like the doting father he never was.
As I watch Mark ignore another incoming call from Jack, I can still see that hurt little boy who only ever wanted his dad to love him. Who would have done anything for his approval, even if that meant losing himself in the process. I don’t know what all happened in Charleston, and I hope Mark will tell me about it someday. But today isn’t the day. Today is a day we get to focus on the here and now. A here and now that I really hope is the start of a future.
“Any clues as to what we are doing tonight?”
Mark grins over at me. “Nope. It’s a surprise.”
“Surprise as in you’re not going to tell me or surprise as in you haven’t figured it out yet?”
“Just trust me.” He laughs and nudges my shoulder.
I nudge him back. “I do trust you. I just need to know what to wear.”
That, and although I love planning surprises, I don’t like being surprised myself. I like knowing what to expect. I research the menu of restaurants before I go there so I’m not overwhelmed with needing to make decisions on a first date, just as an example. I also like to have the proper footwear. I once went on a date expecting us to go to a sit-down restaurant, and we ended up going paint balling. To say heels were a bad idea is an understatement.
Mark waggles his eyebrows. “Polite society dictates clothing in most situations, but I say you do you.”
I all but spit out my food as I try to contain my laugh. “Stop! You’re making me blush.”
He leans in closer to whisper in my ear. “I like when you blush.”
I lightly shove him away. “Behave.”
“Fine.” I want to wipe that smug look off of his face. At the very least poke him in that devilish dimple. I don’t. I muster enough self-control to keep my hands to myself.
“You’re not going to give me any hints about tonight, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fine. Ballgown and roller skates it is.”
“Just be ready by 7:00, Your Majesty.” He mock-bows.
It’s 6:00 and I still have no idea what I’m wearing on this date. I’ve been staring at my closet for the past hour, and I have come to three conclusions:
I have a lot of the same colors.
I really need to organize my closet better.
