My Real (13 page)

“Hey, why don’t I go back and start your wash for you? You go out and finish your run,” he offers.

“But we just started, you sure you don’t want to finish?”

“No. I’m good. You go finish your run.” He stands up, put his hands on his hips, and discreetly presses in on his side to relieve a side stitch.

“Alright,” I stop and kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

He was so sweet to try and run with me. I pick up the pace and speed away from him. When I get back to my house I see Andrew on the back porch folding a load of my clothing. When he sees me he holds up a pair of my cream lace thongs and matching bra.

“I’ve never seen this set. Wanna go shower and show these off to me?”

I shake my head at him. “You really came back and did my wash?”

“Sure, I told you I was going to. Now, I have a load in the dryer almost ready to come out, why don’t you go up and shower? When it’s done, we can fold it fast before we go out shopping.”

I walk up to Andrew and take the underwear out of his hands that he was folding and step between him and the table full of my clean clothing to put my arms around his neck. “You are an amazing man, did you know that?”

“It’s just a load of laundry Bailey.”

“Yes, it’s just a load of laundry but do you realize that in the ten years I was married to Dave he never, not once, helped me wash, fold, or put away any clothing.”

“Well, he was an ass. Now, go shower. You stink,” he laughs as he kisses the tip of my nose.

Bailey showered quickly and is coming back down the stairs just as I’m pulling the last load of clothing out of the dryer. She grabs a water from the fridge and joins me on the deck.

“So how long have you been running? You didn’t run in college did you?” I ask her as she finished off the water.

“No, I didn’t. I started running a few years ago when Dave made a comment about my weight. I started doing it just to lose weight for him, but I found that I really love it. It’s my chance to relieve stress and clear my head.” She starts folding a towel and lays it on the pile.

“I thought I was in shape, I mean, I work out and all, but I just couldn’t keep up with you. How far do you run?”

“Usually only five or six miles a day, couple times a week. I’d really love to train and do a half marathon, but that’s double what I do now and with school coming up soon, I just don’t have the time to train.”

“You should go for it,” I encourage her. She shrugs her shoulders and doesn’t reply. “I’m serious. You could do it.”

“Maybe someday. My problem is that I start getting bored by the fifth or sixth mile. With no one to talk to, there is nothing motivating me to keep going.” She shrugs me off again. “Wash is done, thanks to you, are you ready for the really romantic part of my date now?” She laughs as she brings one basket into the kitchen.

“Yes ma’am, let’s go shopping,” I reply. She grabs a list off the fridge and heads to the door.

When we get to the store, she pulls a paper out of her purse. It catches my eye. I grab the list out of her hand and stare at it.

“You have a typed list of all the aisles in the grocery store?” I question.

“Yes,” she says grabbing the list out of my hand again and pushing the cart past me with a smile. “It makes shopping easier. I don’t forget anything this way.”

We pull up to the fruits and she starts looking at her list. “What are the boxes across the top?” I ask as she puts a pint of strawberries into the cart, then crosses it off the list.

“Those are all the dinners I have planned for the week. Once I have them listed, I know what I need to check off on the bottom.”

“I knew you had a type A personality but I had no ideas it went this deep,” I marvel as I put a head of lettuce in the cart. I can see she has spaghetti in one of the boxes at the top so a salad would be a nice addition.

“Lettuce is not on the list,” she says while putting the lettuce back.

“Wait a minute,” I laugh. “Things can’t go into the cart unless they’re on the list?”

“Well, no. But I don’t need lettuce. Why would I buy it if I don’t need it?”

“I thought a salad would be nice to eat on Wednesday,” I answer pointing to the box that said spaghetti. She thinks about it for a second, agrees, writes lettuce on the list, crosses it off, then adds it back into the cart.

“Wow, you need to give me that list right now,” I say as I grab the list out of her hand again. “Walk on the wild side. Shop for your groceries without every meal planned out.”

She gives me a pouty face then smiles. “But what if I forget something?”

“Then we’ll wing it.”

I push her cart up to the deli section after she puts a few more fruits and vegetables in the cart. I noticed that everything she puts in the cart is on the list.

“Do you have this list memorized?” I wonder.

“Well, not the whole thing. Just the things I get every week,” she explains.

I pull a number and wait to be called on to order lunch meat. I look in the case and see that roast beef is on sale. I haven’t had hot roast beef sandwiches in forever. When it is our turn, I order a pound of beef and a pound of American cheese.

“Roast beef, what did you get that for?” Bailey questions me.

“We’re going to have hot roast beef sandwiches this week. My mom used to make them all the time when we would have bad weather.”

She wrinkles her nose, but doesn’t say anything. I know she really wants to tell me that roast beef sandwiches are not on her weekly menu, but she is doing a good job holding it in.

“I guess that does sound good. I don’t think I’ve ever had one before,” she admits.

“You’ll love them.”

The rest of the shopping pretty much goes the same way. I put something in the cart, and she questions my motives. I start putting very random things in just to see the smoke come out of her ears. I add rigatoni instead of the angel hair pasta that she always uses. When we get to the toilet paper aisle, I purposely put in the wrong brand. Further down that aisle, I toss paper towels into the cart like it was a basketball net. When I make a swoosh, I raise my arms above my head and yell “Nothing but net.”

“That’s an awfully big net you’re working with,” she answers smartly.

“If you think you can do it, you try.” We switch places, me behind the cart and her a few feet down the aisle. She picks up a roll of paper towels and just as she jumps and lets go, I jerk the cart away from her, so her roll lands on the floor. Her jaw drops, and she runs up to grab the roll of the floor as I run around the cart to block her. I press up against her putting my best defensive moves on her, but she jukes around me, jumps up for a shot, and nails it. She dances around me in celebration.

“That’s a technical foul for excessive celebration.” I call out as she continues to dance down the aisle pushing the cart.

“Don’t be jealous of my moves,” she calls over her shoulder as she rounds the corner. I just shake my head at her. This woman makes grocery shopping fun.

We finish the shopping trip with a lot more food than she has on her list, but after the mid-store basketball game, she stopped caring and even threw a few things in the cart as well. While we were in the store, it started pouring, so I went to get the car she got a couple of movies out of the RedBox.

We spend the rest of the night enjoying our hot roast beef sandwiches, a ton of junk food, and watching another Channing Tatum movie. How many movies has this guy made?

Emerson is in my living room, napping on the couch. I stand there watching her sleep more often than I’d like to admit. I have so much fun with this little girl. I have truly bonded with her in our short month together.

We have made it through the month of June together, and I think it has been a huge success. I end up cooking dinner for the three of us, and we eat together before Andrew takes Emerson home. Those nights we end up talking on the phone for hours. On nights that he takes Emerson to Jessica’s house, I usually end up meeting him at his house and spending the night. Everything has been so wonderful that I can hardly believe I am this lucky to have found him. I’m packing for my grad class when Ella’s ring tone starts playing.

Without saying hello, she says, “Let’s do lunch. I’m starving and I haven’t seen you all week.”

“I can’t. Emerson is napping.”

“Damn it, I forgot. I’ve hardly seen you all summer,” she whines into the phone.

“Is it really necessary for you to swear like that?”

“In this case, yes,” Ella whines.

“Well, calm down, I’m free tonight. Let’s go out. We’ll be away all week next week at grad class, so I want to make sure I build my tolerance up for our crazy nights out after class.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Haha, very funny. Andrew usually leaves here around 7. I’ll kick him out early tonight, pick me up at 8.”

Bailey is washing dishes when Ella walks in the kitchen, sneaks up behind her, and slaps her on the ass.

“I thought you were kicking Lover Boy out early,” Ella says as she leans up against the counter next to me.

“I got a late start on dinner. I just have to go change quick and I’m ready to go,” Bailey answers as she walks out of the kitchen. Ella turns slowly and stares at me.

“So, Lover Boy. How was your dinner?” she says with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised.

“Wonderful as always.” I’m about to get the third degree from Ella. I was expecting this.

“I’m going to shoot you straight. If you hurt her, I will kill you. Don’t doubt me. I’ll do anything for her,” Ella threatens.

“Understood.”

“That’s it. That’s all you have to say? Understood.”

“I’m not going to hurt her, Ella,” I promise.

“Dude, you’re still married. Bailey is watching your daughter every day and cooking you dinner every night,” she starts walking closer to me. “Do you think that she is not getting attached to you and even scarier, getting attached to your daughter? That’s scary for Emerson and Bailey.”

“Why would getting attached to Emerson be scary for Bailey?”

She pauses for a beat just looking at me. “Just don’t hurt her. Do you understand me?”

I look at her for a second. I know I don’t have a lot of time before Bailey comes walking out the door, but I have to let Ella know how I really feel. “Ella, I love her. I won’t do anything to hurt her.”

She just looks at me, for a long time. I’m getting nervous at the scowl still on her face.

“I’m watching you,” is all she says before she walks back toward Bailey’s bedroom.