Page 47 of Even After This
Sally swallows, nodding. Pulling my hand down, she thrusts a purple envelope into my grip. “Read it later.”
“My turn.” Spencer steps in and engulfs me in a giant bear hug.
After a stunned pause, I return the embrace. For a scarce moment, I forget he is Spencer Dean, and I realize I’m going to miss my new friends.
After Spencer releases me, he shakes Harlan’s hand, then watches while Harlan kisses his wife on the cheek.
As the couple strolls away arm in arm, Harlan moves to my side of the table to pull out my chair.
“Thank you.” I do the scoot-your-chair-in-while-the-man-helps thing. So awkward. After putting the envelope from Sally in my purse, I fold my jittery hands in my lap and wait for him to sit down.
Our server appears out of nowhere. “Can I interest you in a chocolate-filled cannoli or some house-made gelato this evening? We have a lovely selection of desserts I can show you.”
Harlan offers a smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “We don’t need the dessert tray, but would you please give us a few minutes with the menu?”
“Of course, Mr. Holcombe.” She sets down two leather-backed lists and leaves to assist an elderly woman nearby.
Harlan’s deep brown eyes focus on me. His finger draws a figure eight on the tablecloth, then he knocks twice with his knuckle. “So, when you visit Spence and Sally, do you think you’ll look me up?”
Can everyone in the restaurant hear my hammering heart?
Menu clutched in both hands, I stretch my arms out, focusing on the after-dinner drink options. “No. You’re Chad Tarkington.”
Harlan takes his index finger and pulls the card down halfway so he can see my face. “Who?”
“Chad Tarkington. You”—I nod in his direction—“are Chad Tarkington.”
He pushes the menu all the way to the table, causing me to release my hold. “What are you talking about?”
“My summer camp romance boy. You know how it is. For seven glorious days, you’re thrust into an intensified relationship with someone who would annoy you in real life. You return to your respective homes and grow apart. Or give each other the slow fade. Whichever.” I sweep my palm through the air. “For that one week, it was amazing, but the end is the same.”
The muscles in his jaw clench, and he taps three times on my menu. “You said so many things I need to unpack, I don’t even know where to begin.” He observes as I weave my napkin between my fingers. His eyes warm. “Summer camp romance boy. First of all, we established earlier I’m not a boy. I’m a man.”
Yes. Yes, we did.
“Second.” He plants his elbow in front of him and rests his chin in his palm. “Were we having some kind of a sordid romantic fling this week? Because I would have made different choices, starting by kissing you a heckuva lot more.”
My face flushes with embarrassment. “I didn’t say ‘sordid romantic fling.’”
“It’s implied. It’s the adult version of summer camp romance.”
This has backfired. Astronomically.
He wants to go there? Fine. I knew this was coming. Let’s get it over with.
I bite my bottom lip, pause, and take a breath. “Why do you want to be friends with me?”
“I think it’s clear I want to be more than friends.” Harlan’s face blanks. He sits up straight. “Why are you asking me this?”
“If you define me by my grief, this can’t be anything. Or if you want to save me from my grief, this will be a disaster.” I swallowthe lump in my throat and shake my head. “I’ve lost friends over this, Harlan. People I valued, who are no longer in my life.”
There. I’ve given him a better picture of reality. My emotional minefield should be sufficient to scare him off.
He draws in a breath, waits a beat, and encloses my hand in both of his. “I don’t define you by your grief.”
Ignoring his hand-holding, I let out a frustrated sigh. “It has to color how you view me.”
“Meredith. I define you by the kindness you showed Sally when she was a total stranger. I define you by the faith in life you hold on to despite all reason against it. I define you by your beautiful smile when we drove the Jeep through the mountains.” He tugs my hand, drawing me closer. “You’ll always grieve your losses. But it’s only a piece of your journey. All I want is for you to consider letting me be part of your whole journey. To show me who else you are.” One side of his mouth hitches in a half smile as he shrugs one shoulder. “To see a little of who I am.”
