Page 70 of Because of Blake
Blake reaches over and takes my hand, squeezing it before turning to Michelle. “So, what do you do?”
As the conversation flows easily, the margaritas helping move things along, the four of us fall into step like we’ve been doing this forever. Our food comes as Tom and Michelle, well, mostly Michelle, talk about their jobs, inviting Blake and I into the conversation more than I thought she would.
“How are the kids, Mags?” Michelle asks, taking a break from her meal to sip her drink. “Did they have fun at camp?”
I nod. “They’re good. Camp was fun. They’ve pretty much fallen back into their lives, though. Dylan still wants to play video games all the time, but he has asked about having friends over.”
“And Syd?”
I sigh. “She seems to be doing better than last year. She actually asked if she could invite a few girls from school to her birthday, but her attitude still needs some improving.”
Michelle turns to Blake. “You better buckle up. Teenage girls are quite the rodeo from what I’ve heard.”
“Actually, Sydney seems really receptive to Blake. He gets more out of her than I do sometimes.”
Blake shrugs. “All I do is talk to her.”
“Charlie was always good at getting her to open up, too...” My thoughts wander back to when Sydney was six and she found a dead rabbit in the backyard. She was so upset, sobbing uncontrollably. I couldn’t get her to tell me what was wrong, but Charlie did. He sat her down and coaxed it out of her. Then, he made everything better. He never told me his secret, though I suspect it was a matter of being a great father.
“Maggie?” Blake’s voice pulls me back to the table, where everyone’s eyes are on me.
I duck my head a moment. “Sorry, I got distracted. What were we talking about?”
“About Blake being the Sydney whisperer,” Michelle says. “What about Dylan? How do you fare with him?”
“Dylan’s easy. Bring up the Xbox and he can talk for hours.” We all laugh at Blake’s comment, because it’s true. “But, I’ve got some ideas on how to get both of them out of their shells.”
“Oh?” I ask. This is the first I’m hearing about this.
“Sure. I can take them to baseball games, or to the lake. I even thought about setting up a night where it’s just me and the kids. Maybe like once a month? You and Michelle can get together and I can have some time to hang with them.”
At first, listening to Blake list all the ways he can connect with my kids creates a lightness in me. It amazes me how much he cares. Then, all I can think about is how Charlie isn’t here to do those things, and my heart pounds the lightness out. He’s not the one making these memories with my kids, Blake is. As endearing as all this talk is, I have to wonder how long it will be before Blake replaces Charlie.
The beginning of a panic attack takes root in my chest, cementing me to the booth. I lose focus on the conversation as the roaring in my ears grows. I don’t want to ruin dinner, but the tequila makes it hard to concentrate.
I’m losing control of my thoughts, when Michelle asks, “So, Blake, I need to know if you’re sticking it to Mags because she’s a good lay, or if you’re in it for the long haul?”
I gasp as I’m torn back into the present, and I notice Blake almost choke on his food.
He uses his napkin to hide his obvious struggle before setting it on the table. “Wow, the server was right. The food is hot.” He clears his throat and raises his gaze to meet Michelle’s. “Well, I’ll be honest. I’m a lazy man, and I find dating tedious and exhausting. I was lucky enough to find an amazing woman right down the street, who not only happens to be beautiful, but also everything I could ever want in a partner.” Blake turns and locks his big, soft brown eyes on mine. “So, to answer your question, I’ll be ‘sticking it to Mags’ for as long as she’ll have me, which I hope is a long time.”
Although my cheeks heat, the words “a long time” ring in my ears. I didn’t consider a time frame in regards to dating Blake. How long will this go on? How far will it go? Those are questions I don’t think I’m ready to answer yet.
The panic bubbles through my gut once more, and I flutter my eyelashes so I don’t shut my eyes. I attempt a smile, but my mouth keeps turning down. I’m losing my resolve, my anxiety threatening to bring this dinner to an early end.
Blake’s gaze drifts over my face, his eyes narrowing for the briefest of moments before he leans over to plant a soft kiss on my lips. He’s what I can see. What I can feel, hear, and smell. His lips on mine complete the steps of my grounding technique, and the tension melts away as I melt into him. When we pull away from the kiss, I look over at Michelle who’s fallen into a swoon. Blake has won her over.
“Alright, well, that’s it. Mags, you have to marry this man.”
“Michelle!”
“What? I can’t let you lose a man who looks at you like that.”
We all laugh, though my laughter feels stilted. The seriousness in Michelle’s tone negates the joking nature of her words. I’ve barely come to terms with being ready to date again, and the idea of marriage forms a pit in my stomach.
As if he knows, Blake squeezes my hand, bringing my anxiety to a grinding halt. “Let’s not rush things, okay, Michelle?”
Our conversation returns to normal. We finish our dinner, and another margarita, before leaving. Outside on the sidewalk, Tom separates himself and goes back to his phone, while Michelle, Blake, and I say our goodbyes.