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“Give her time,” Dad reasoned.
“Do you think these pancakes are any good?” I hopped up and went over to the stove. What was in the pan looked mostly cooked. I scooped up one with careful fingers, putting it into my mouth. “They’re good.”
Dad frowned. “Don’t let your mom catch you doing that.”
I laughed. “Thanks for coming around to my side.”
“I’m not taking sides,” Dad said gently. “There is only one side, and that’s family. We need to all get along with each other.”
“Sorry.” It seemed like every time I made up my mind to extend a peace offering to Mom, I messed it up. “Tell her the pancakes were great.”
Dad smiled but remained noncommittal. I kissed him on top of the head and went back to my own apartment to take a shower before work. Every day was different at the lumberyard, and today, for some reason, there were a lot of customer service issues. One man thought he needed two-by-fours, but when he got home, he realized he had made a mistake. One woman wanted to buy a cut of wood for an end table, but she didn’t want to pay to have us cut it. Another customer gave me grief over the quality of the material in the bargain bin. I had to explain that the reason a piece ended up in the bargain bin was that there was something wrong with it.
“But they’re all warped,” the customer complained.
I sighed, summoning my best smile. “I could show you some better-quality lumber.”
“No, thank you.” The man turned on his heels and stalked back to the parking lot. I barely had any downtime from eleven until two, when things finally relaxed. As soon as the multiple crises passed, I found my thoughts drifting back to Tammy. We had texted each other emojis in the morning, just a gentle way of staying in touch, but I wanted more. I wanted to hear her voice.
I found a hidden spot between two displays and gave her a call. The phone rang once, twice, three times, and then the voicemail picked up. I hung up without leaving a message; she would see my number on the caller ID. I went back to work before the manager could discover my hiding place.
An hour later, my phone buzzed. I raced to shelter behind the bargain bin and answered.
“Hi, Mike?” she said. My heart sang; she had put me in her contacts.
“Hey.” I tried to sound casual.
“I was working when you called,” she explained.
“Duty calls. Thanks for calling me back. I just wanted to hear your voice.”
She laughed, a beautiful sound that warmed me to my core.
“When can I see you again?”
She paused, considering. “We’re having a cookout at Macy’s this weekend. I’d really like it if you came.”
“I’m there,” I promised. “Just text me the time.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
We made pleasant conversation for another few minutes, until Tammy had to go. It was so easy talking to her, and everything I said came naturally. In so many situations I had to be on guard, paying attention to the words I was using, making sure nothing sounded too rough or too critical. But with Tammy, I was free to be myself. She liked me for who I was, and I was beginning to think I loved her.
Now I had the cabin in the woods or hoped I would soon. I could invite her up there and cook her dinner, and we could make love on the basement bar. She was so beautiful, I couldn’t wait to get her undressed again. That single phone call with Tammy had given me the strength and focus I needed to complete my day. I worked without incident until my shift ended at seven and then drove into town for some beers.
14
TAMMY
It was the day of the cookout, and I stood in Macy’s kitchen, wringing my hands. I had invited Mike to meet Macy and all of her friends. It had been such a comfortable situation last time we had grilled with Lindsey and Jason, I hoped to witness a repeat of the same chill vibe. I told myself that Mike would fit in.
“Relax.” Macy took one look at me and guessed what I was up to. “If you like him, I’m sure we’ll all like him.”
“I don’t know why I feel nervous,” I admitted.
“Sure you do.” She dismissed my anxiety. “He’s meeting the closest thing you have to parents. And that’s not to say I’m that old, just that we’re your family.”
I laughed. It was true. Macy and Dillon had become so close, they were more like my brother and sister now than my cousins. I needed them to like my new boyfriend. Could I even call him that? We hadn’t had “the relationship talk.” All I knew was that he was important to me, and it was important that my family like him.
