Page 77 of Not on the Same Page

“You weren’t nervous last time.” I laugh as Trina readjusts her skirt for the third time since we left my condo. We’re sitting at a table, waiting for Robert’s shift to end.

She glares at me. “Last time, we weren’t dating.”

“The plot thickens,” I tease. “We’ve raised the stakes.”

Rolling her eyes, she swats at my arm. “God, you are such a nerd.”

Just then, the restaurant door opens, and my dad walks in. Before I can think about it, I shoot to my feet half overeager, half anxious that something is wrong. “Dad? What are you doing here?”

“Well.” He shuffles his feet. “You’re always asking me to come on Sundays, and I… I should come more often.” He glances at Trina, then wraps me in a quick hug. “Plus, Robert told me there was going to be a pretty lady here, and I’ll admit I was curious.” Then, quieter, he adds, “Is this the one you were making moon eyes over?”

I huff a laugh as I clap him on the back. “Yeah, this is her.” I’m so embarrassingly giddy with excitement at having all the people I care about most in the world in one place that I can barely speak.

His smile is full of joy as he directs his attention to Trina. “My son seems to have lost his manners.” He extends his hand as Trina stands. “Casey Endersen, Senior.”

Trina’s mouth twists as she tries to hide a smile. “Trina McBryde. Pleasure to meet you.” Her hazel eyes shift to me. “I didn’t know you were a junior.”

Dad scoffs in mock offense. “I see we have a lot to fill you in about the Endersen family.”

Robert comes out of the back room, and as soon as he clocks Trina, he hustles over and locks her into a big bear hug. “Hi, Trina. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“The first thing you should know is that we’re huggers,” I say sarcastically. “I probably should have warned you.”

“No way.” Trina releases Robert. As if to illustrate my point, Dad steps up, arms wide despite having just shaken her hand. Trina embraces him in turn. “I love it.”

When she pulls away, she’s beaming, but her eyes are glistening. As Dad and Robert busy themselves with sliding into one side of the booth, Trina turns her back to them and surreptitiously wipes her eyes.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

Dad glances in our direction, then quickly grabs a menu and starts asking Robert some questions. I make a note to thank him later for giving us a minute.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” I tell her softly, tipping her chin up so she’s forced to meet my eyes. “You okay?”

“I’m great.” Her smile rivals the summer sun, and even though I know there’s more going on under the surface, I believe her.

“You want to eat?” I ask. “We can leave if you want.”

“I always want to eat.” She takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’m fine, I promise.”

And with that, we slide into our side of the booth to join my family.

On Monday evening, as the long weekend comes to a close, the sun casts a riot of oranges on the walls of my bedroom. Trina lies in my arms, her shoulders pink from another day in the sun. I idly trace the line her tank top hid from its rays.

She belongs here with me. I’ve never been happier.

“Stay,” I whisper. I’ve tried this once before, and she did, though I think it was an accident. I want her here with me on purpose. I want to wake up next to her, to see her smile in the hazy light of dawn, to make her breakfast and kiss her senseless and make love to her before we’ve even had our coffee. And even though I know she drove her car here to avoid this very outcome, I can’t help but ask for it anyway.

Lifting her head and resting her chin on my chest, her hazel eyes meet mine. They’re more gold in this light, and so is her hair. She looks like the statue of a goddess. I have to run my fingers through her hair to remind myself she’s real.

“I want to,” she sighs.

It’s been weeks, and this is the first time she’s given me anything but a protest or an excuse. I try not to get too over-eager as I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “Then stay.”

“Depends what you have in your fridge,” she deflects. “I know you haven’t had a chance to go grocery shopping this weekend. You’ve been with me almost the whole time.”

“Hmm.” I pretend to think. “There’s bread.” I kiss her nose. “And cheese.” I kiss the corner of her lips. “And eggs.” I kiss the other corner.

She giggles, playfully shoving me away. “That’s a good start.”