Page 41 of Because of Blake
We never had that conversation. I never wanted to think about a life without Charlie, and I’m sure he didn’t want to talk about me being with anyone else. We probably should have, though. It would make things easier right now, but it’s not something you think will ever happen.
Maybe it’s a good thing Blake and I haven’t gone on an actual date. What if it’s amazing and it replaces the memory of my first date with Charlie? What if I fall so hard for him, I let my memories of Charlie fade away? I’m afraid of losing Charlie forever.
I can see it happening. Blake’s almost too good to be true. When I told him about Charlie, I heard genuine compassion in his voice. He actively listened to my story of the tattoo and why we moved. He seemed like he actually cared. He even sounded concerned about the kids having to deal with it.
And I’ve never once felt uncomfortable in his presence. Nervous? Yes, but scared of him? No way. Sure, he may eyeball me like a tasty snack every now and then, but I’ve never felt like I should keep my guard up. He’s never given me any indication of foul intentions, and he’s always been the perfect gentleman.
I need to find out how he feels, even if it’s not the same way I do.
A heavy sigh escapes me. This is all so confusing and scary, but maybe it’s a sign of me being onto something good. The worthwhile things in life involve risk.
Am I willing to risk the total embarrassment of being rejected by Blake? Or worse, am I willing to risk having to face every anxiety I’ve had for the last three years if heisinterested in me?
I think the answer to both of those questions is yes, and I owe it to myself to find out. I can picture myself and Blake in a relationship. I just hope he can, too.
Saturday finally arrives and I’m a bouncing ball of nerves. I want eight o’clock to come so badly, but at the same time, I don’t want it to come at all. I’ve been thinking all week about how I’m going to ask Blake out, and I’ve got nothing.
I don’t know how to do this. Charlie asked me out in college, and I never had to worry about it after that. The dates I’ve been on since Charlie died were set up by Michelle. I don’t know the first thing about this process. Should I be blunt or coy? And what the hell does being coy even mean?
Ugh, I’m out of my element.
Two workouts, a long shower, an even longer walk, marathon cleaning of my kitchen and my bathrooms, then finishing with vacuuming does nothing to ease my anxiety. On the one hand, it takes my mind off the time, but it only makes it go faster and I’m not sure that’s what I want.
At six-thirty, I’m sitting at my kitchen table pushing around my dinner with my fork. I can’t eat, I’m so frazzled. Maybe I should have another glass of wine.
Crap! I’m supposed to bring the drinks tonight!
I dash out to the liquor store, but end up having to go to three to find the beer I want. When I get home, it’s nearly seven-thirty and I still have to pick out a movie to take. I thumb through my selection of Hallmark classics, trying to find one that’s not too cheesy. Like that’s possible. There are so many I love, but I don’t know if they’re good for Blake’s first time.
Should I pick a holiday themed one? Or your basic big city gal falls for the country boy trope? I mean, they all sort of follow the same plot. I’m overthinking this.
Just grab one, Maggie.
I put entirely too much effort into choosing a movie and end up being a few minutes late to Blake’s house. When I knock on the door, I’m expecting to hear barking, but I don’t.My stomach drops and my heart hammers in my chest. He probably forgot and made other plans because thisisn’ta date. I’ve worked myself up for nothing.
Before the tears can well in my eyes, the lock clicks and the door opens to reveal Blake with relief in his eyes. “Hey. I thought maybe you forgot.”
I hike a shoulder to my ear. “Sorry, I couldn’t decide which movie to bring.”
He chuckles. “Are there really that many to choose from?” He steps aside and extends his arm in a gesture for me to enter.
“Oh, you have no idea. And I had to make sure I picked the right one for your first time,” I say, stepping past him and into the entryway. This time, I purposefully take a deep inhale of his cologne, and it’s still just as intoxicating. “Though, I was expecting Oscar to greet me, again.”
“Oh no, after last week, I learned my lesson. I put him outside before you got here.”
I pout. “I was kind of looking forward to my couch buddy.”
“If you want him crowding you, I’ll let him in here in a minute.” He leads me around the corner to the kitchen. “What did you bring to drink?”
I set the six-pack on the counter and hand a bottle to Blake, taking one for myself. “I hope you like it. It’s one Charlie and I used to drink together.” I feel the sad smile creep across my lips, then the guilt hits my gut. Is it wrong of me to share our beer with another man?
Blake keeps his kind, brown eyes on mine, comforting me from a distance. “I’m sure I will.” He pops his bottle cap off and holds his hand out for mine. After our drinks are opened, he walks toward the living room with me following behind. “So, how was your week?”
“It was fine. Work was busy, which is good. And I got a letter from the kids. It made my day.” My sadness melts away at the thought of their handwritten letters.
“I bet it did. How are they doing?”
I love how he asks about my kids. “They’re having a great time. They always do. I miss them every year, but they love it so much, I can’t not let them go.”