The One That I Want (30 page)

“You felt that they were seeing
you
, not just your family’s story,” I said.

She nodded. “At least until the Dane Tyler thing.”

I winced. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry about—”

“It’s okay, Mommy.
Mom
,” she said, testing out the shortened form of endearment. It made her sound suddenly stronger, surer, more grown up. And I more than suspected she knew it. She immediately smiled as though she liked what she’d heard. “It didn’t bother me that much and, two days later, almost everyone had forgotten about it.” She shot me a curious glance. “How is Dane doing anyway?”

It was my turn to trip over words. “I, um…I don’t actually know.”

Her thin eyebrows rose. “Did he have to go back to Hollywood to make more movies?”

“Probably.”

“But you have his phone number, right?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“So, call him,” my daughter said, as if this were the easiest and most obvious thing on the planet. “Or text him. If he’s still in Chicago, maybe you could invite him over. He’s nice.” She paused. “And he’s pretty cute, too. Don’t you think?”

“Uh, yeah…I do think that. But it’s rare that he visits this area. Most of the time he lives far away.”

She rolled her eyes at me, the way only a ten-year-old could. “You’ve heard of Skype, haven’t you? And there are phone calls and emails. It’s easy to keep in touch with people—if you want to.”

She pulled out her own cell phone, checked for texts, and smothered a giggle while reading through them. “I’ve got messages from some of my camp friends,” she informed me. “I’m gonna text them back and then go for a bike ride. Okay, Mom?”

“Yes, that’s fine.” I hesitated asking this next thing, but I had to know. “Analise, let’s say I were to invite Dane over to our house, as you suggested, and some press people start snooping around, taking pictures, or posting articles about all of us—”

She shrugged. “Yeah, so? They did that already.”

“But they might do it again. I don’t know what they’ll post on the Internet or what they’ll say about me on some entertainment show. I’m worried that it might be upsetting to you, though, sweetheart.”

She squinted at me. “You know how I said the kids at camp mostly forgot about you and Dane two days later? This one boy, Frazer Jamison, got the stomach flu that same week and threw up in the middle of the rec hall. The other kids talked about it for, like, another two days. And then one of the counselors—not mine, but my friend Lesha’s—fell asleep during movie night and started snoring!” She laughed, remembering, and all at once I caught a glimpse of the beautiful, radiant, and confident woman she would grow up to be. Just a hint, but that lightning flash of illumination was enough for me to realize the changes I’d sensed in her during Parents’ Day were taking hold. “Most people have a pretty bad memory,” she added. “Unless it’s about something really important.”

“All right,” I said. “Maybe I’ll try to call him.”

She grinned at me. “Good. You looked happy when you guys were talking at camp. He was funny and cool. You should stay in touch with him.”

And with that, she meandered away from me and down the hall to her room where, a moment later, I heard a squeal of delight. “Thanks for the new bookshelf, Mom!” she called out.

“You’re welcome,” I called back.

And, of course, I was unable to think about that bookshelf without also thinking about when I got it, with whom, and what happened afterward…on the sofa…downstairs.

Either I had an unusually good memory, or my relationship with Dane Tyler was, as my daughter would say, “something really important.”

Analise closed her bedroom door and, apparently, lost herself in the wonderful world of texting.

I sat at the kitchen table, closed my eyes and lost myself in the memories I had of Dane from the past month.

I also thought of Shar’s words from last night, when we were all at Elsie’s house. And, for the first time in years, I had the urge to do something at least vaguely poetic. I shuffled the phrase Shar had used around in my head until the words formed a haiku:

Finding happiness

is an unexpected gift.

Never let it go.

Then I picked up my phone and texted Dane.

“So…Happy Birthday,” I wrote because it was August first and today was the big day—his fortieth. Funny. I’d fantasized about personally sending him birthday greetings almost every year since I’d first seen him on the silver screen. I only wished the reality could have been less bittersweet now.

“I don’t know where you are,” I continued typing, “but I still owe you a homemade birthday cake. Any chance you’re within driving distance and want to collect on that?”

No response came. Not after five minutes. Or ten. Or even twenty. An eternity of silence.

I got up to make myself some coffee—something, anything, to distract me from the despair I felt, not just at losing Dane as a lover but, even worse, for being so stupid as to let our friendship slip away because of my fear. I’d pretended it was all because of wanting to protect Analise, but the truth was that it was equally about protecting my heart. My friends saw through my charade in an instant, and my daughter had just proven that she was more courageous than I was. More open to change.

The coffee maker had just begun to gurgle and drip when my phone finally buzzed.

He didn’t bother with preliminaries. He wrote only, “
Warm
cake? With ice cream?”

I did a quick scan of the pantry. Flour, sugar, baking soda, powdered sugar, cocoa? Check.

And then the fridge. Eggs and butter? Check.

And finally the freezer. Rocky Road… Check.

“Yes,” I texted back.

“I can be there in an hour,” he replied. “Too soon?”

“Not soon enough,” I wrote. “But drive the speed limit, okay?”

“Fine. Maybe just a
little
above it?”

“No. And no texting on the road either.”

I got back a weird emoticon that looked like a grimacing face. Then: “All of these rules. You sure you want to see me?”

“Yes. But I want you in one piece.”

“You
want
me?”

I smiled and just typed, “Yes.”

There was a long pause before he responded. “Already in the car,” he wrote, which was exactly what he’d said that day at camp. It made me hopeful.

No. That was a colossal understatement.

It made my heart soar like a feather-light kite on a breezy afternoon.

I was just finishing up Dane’s homemade chocolate birthday cake when I heard voices out in the front yard. Analise had her bike leaning up against the garage door. She was putting on her helmet while talking with Dane, who’d pulled into the driveway with his rental car. Still dark blue in color, but a different model than he’d driven before. So, maybe, he
had
gone somewhere else this week? Hmm.

I watched the two of them through the front window, surprised at the funny, warm, natural way they interacted. Their body language was so relaxed, so unaffected, so without tension, as if they’d known each other for ages. I knew Analise had hit it off with Dane but, until I saw them chatting like old pals in the middle of our driveway, I hadn’t fully understood what my daughter had been trying to tell me today. Yes, he was nice. And he was cute. And he was funny and cool. But the important thing, I realized, that she’d been trying to convey was that he was trustworthy. That, in fact, independent of whatever I might think,
she
trusted him.

I tiptoed back from the window so they wouldn’t see me, but I cracked the front door open in order to hear a little more of their conversation.

“…and I ended up having to do two more skits after that one when you and my mom were there,” Analise was telling him.

“But the techniques I showed you carried over to those performances as well?” he asked.

“Yeah, it was awesome, Dane. I mean, I had to practice my lines a bunch of times before I could remember them. I still don’t know how you memorized your parts that quickly. But the ridiculous connections trick
really
helped.”

He nodded. “That’s one of my favorites.” He pointed to the bike. “So, where are you off to?”

“Just riding around the neighborhood. I feel like I’ve been away forever.”

“Ah, you wanna see what’s changed, huh?”

“Exactly!”

“Your mom inside?”

“Yeah. She made you a cake.” Then Analise clapped her palm across her mouth. “Oh, no. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that. Was it a surprise?”

Dane laughed and shook his head. “She already gave me the heads up on it. But I don’t know the flavor.”

“Well, I won’t tell you that, then,” my daughter said, “but I think you’ll like it.”

“I know I will.”

There was more to their conversation, but I had to step away. Tears had been pooling in my eyes as I eavesdropped, not because the two of them had said anything especially touching or poignant, just because their driveway discussion was so beautifully, hauntingly
normal
. Like the conversations Analise used to have with her dad.

Dane eventually knocked on the door, and I motioned him inside.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

“You’ve, um, got a very cool daughter.” He thumbed in the direction of the street, where I could see Analise already halfway down the block on her bike.

“She thinks you’re cool, too.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. She told me. And you’re nice and funny and even cute.”

“Wow. Glad I made a good first impression on someone, which is more than I can say for our first meeting, eh?”

“Well,” I said, “you kind of grew on me.” I paused. “I missed you so much, Dane. I’m sorry I panicked like that. I just—”

And before I knew it, he had his arms wrapped around me. Another koala hug, and I buried myself in his embrace.

“Julia,” he murmured. “
I’m
sorry. I knew what could happen. I should’ve prepared you better. Told you sooner. But damn them all. I’m not letting anyone wreck this. Wreck
us
. No one gets to come between us again.”

He kissed my forehead, my right temple, my cheek, before pressing his lips to my mouth and pulling me even closer to him. Every part of me followed along. Every fiber of my body and soul was drawn to wherever he would lead.

It didn’t seem possible that, after everything that had happened over the past year, especially Adam’s death, that I could feel such a surge of joy. I may have spent most of the month doubting the realness of my own emotions (not to mention Dane’s), but after his absence over the past week, I couldn’t deny the feeling of pure happiness on his return.

It’s a gift. Never let it go
.

Those words echoed in my head until I surrendered to the power of Dane’s mouth on mine and let myself get completely pulled in.

When we finally came up for air, he whispered, “You said you wanted me. Is that still true?”

“It’s true.” I met his gaze and held it. “But I don’t know much more than that. I don’t know where we go from here. What’s next for all of us—you, me, my daughter and yours. How to work out the details. If what we’re feeling will last forever. But, yes. Yes, I want you. I…I’m falling in love with you. It was foolish of me to try so hard to fight it.”

I watched him take this in, swallowing several times after I spoke. His eyes were suspiciously moist, but he swiped the back of his hand across them before speaking. “This doesn’t have to be a ‘life in the fast lane’ thing,” he whispered. “We can take everything slow. It’s best that way. But I’ll warn you. You’ll find me a very hard man to get rid of.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I love you, which you already know. And you sure as hell better believe me this time.” He smiled slightly. “And because you’re the one that I want.” He stared at me for a long moment. Until I knew that he was sure I’d taken his words seriously.

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Good.” Then he sighed. “Unfortunately, Julia, I leave for New York tomorrow. After I see Cat, I’m immediately off to L.A. for seven or eight straight weeks of shooting. So right now I’m feeling a desperate desire to hold you and to make love to you one more time before I have to go.” He tugged me toward the stairs to the basement. To our sofa.

“But my daughter—”

“Is on a long bike ride,” he finished for me. “We’ve got a few minutes. And, trust me, I’ve been aching for you for over a week. This will be quick.”

I laughed. “Then come to my bedroom,” I said, tugging him in a different direction. “That door at least has a lock.”

“Wise plan.” He sniffed the air suddenly, as if finally noticing the scent. “Hey, smells delicious in here. Chocolate?”

“Yes. Oh, your cake!” I stopped mid step. “I promised you a
warm
piece with ice cream and—”

“Seriously? You actually think I’d choose cake over you?” He grinned. “Maybe cake on top of you, but…”

“Well, it
is
your birthday.”

“Damn right. And, Julia Meriwether Crane, I thought I made this clear—you’re the only gift I want.”