Page 8 of It Happened Back Then (Nilsson Family #3)

I stand at the kitchen island in just a pair of shorts. The rain is falling, because it’s Seattle, so of course it is, and I’m trying my best to perfect this au jus sauce for a prime rib going on special this weekend at Rain’s Steakhouse.

The city lights pour in through the windows of my small Seattle apartment, and music plays low in the background with some old playlist Blossom and I made back in high school. The same playlist I always put it on when I’m missing home.

This week has been difficult. Not only did Savannah and I break up, again, but it’s the anniversary of the death of Blossom’s dad. I hate that I can’t be there with her, to hug her, hold her, cry with her.

So today I laid low. I was determined to perfect this sauce and did well at avoiding Savannah’s calls. She keeps texting that we need to talk, but I don’t know what she expects of me anymore. We seem to be broken up more than we’re together.

As I reach for the pan, hot and waiting for the sauce, my phone buzzes on the counter. Wiping my hands on the dish towel, I glance down expecting to see another text from Savannah, but it’s not her.

Blossom.

And that first text is everything.

Blossom: I miss you.

I respond back instantly.

Me: I miss you too. What’s wrong?

Blossom: Why does something have to be wrong for me to miss you?

Me: It doesn’t. But I can tell by your tone.

Blossom: My text has a tone?

Me: What did you do tonight?

Blossom: …

Me: Tell me

Blossom: I had a date.

I squeeze my phone a bit tighter. I shouldn't be upset hearing this. She’s been dating and telling me about each one. Besides, I’ve been dating Savannah for years, but the hard truth is that doesn’t mean I like the idea of Blossom being with someone.

I abandon the sauce I’m trying to perfect, turn the burner off, and go sit on my couch.

Me: And how did it go?

Blossom: It was okay. I probably won’t see him again.

Thank fuck for that.

Me: Why not?

Blossom: I don’t know. He was nice enough but just no spark, you know?

Me: I get it.

Blossom: How’s Savannah?

Do I tell her we broke up? Blossom and I never seem to be in the right spot to make it work. Not that she’s ever asked to make it work since I left for school. Savannah and I keep having the same fight though. I want to move back to Bluemoon and she wants me to accept a position her dad got me.

Me: We broke up.

Blossom: Oh no! What happened?

She’s not you.

Me: More of the same. Wrong place, wrong time.

Blossom: I’m sorry.

Blossom: How’s the steakhouse?

Me: It's great, actually. I’m learning a lot. The head chef has been teaching me some new dishes on slow nights.

Blossom: It sounds like you’re in the right place then.

It’s not right if you’re not here.

Blossom: Can I ask you something?

Me: Of course.

Blossom: Do you regret that night?

I know what she’s talking about. She doesn’t ever have to remind me of our first night together.

Me: Not once.

Me: Why do you ask?

Blossom: Sometimes I feel bad about it. Not that it happened but just how we moved on from it.

Me: What are you talking about?

She immediately video calls, so I answer it.

“Well hello, gorgeous. Something on your mind?”

She smiles and my heart skips a beat. Everything about Blossom is beautiful. From her smile to her long dark hair. Her amazing body and her heart that loves more than it should. “I didn’t want my text to have a tone, so I figured I’d better call.”

“Hm. Good answer.” I look closely at her. “Have you been drinking?”

She laughs; her face flushed the slightest bit. “I had two glasses of wine with dinner.”

“Ahh, and now you’re calling me. I’m honored.”

“Bennett! Stop it.”

I laugh at her annoyed face. “I’m just teasing you. Talk to me.”

She lowers her phone as she climbs under her covers and I see her nipples poking through the white tank she’s wearing.

“Peach,” I call out the nickname I’ve had for her since we were teenagers.

The phone comes right back to her face. “Sorry, I dropped you for a second. It’s cold here and I’m trying to get under my blanket.”

“Mm hmm. I noticed.”

She frowns slightly then glances down, her eyes widening as she realizes she was putting on a show. Giggling, she responds, “Sorry about that.”

I adjust myself and say, “Tell me what’s on your mind. Something is bothering you.”

She doesn't make eye contact with me on the phone. “I don’t know. Sometimes things feel so off without you here. I can’t just crawl in your window and talk to you anymore.”

I laugh. “Well, you could, but you may find my mom in my old room. Dad still snores like a truck driver and she’s been sleeping in there.”

She laughs. “Maybe I’m just being weird tonight because I miss you.”

I hum in response. I don't know what to say. There’s so much I want to say, but I know she’s not ready to hear it. She never wants to hear it.

`“You know, losing my dad so young left me feeling like there’s a piece to the puzzle I’ll never learn.

Like, little girls are supposed to learn what a good man is by watching their dad.

I remember how good he was to my mom, but at eleven I wasn’t paying attention, you know?

I know he opened doors for her, he brought her flowers, and he always held her hand.

He knew her favorite dessert and how she took her coffee. ”

I want to remind her I do all that for her and know all of her favorites, too. But I let her speak; she needs to get whatever this is off her chest.

“My date tonight? He didn’t open the door for me.

It was so dumb, but I saw him pull into the driveway.

I waited a moment, checking my makeup in the mirror and grabbing my purse.

I looked out the window again and saw he hadn’t gotten out of his car yet.

I waited another moment and then I heard the horn blow.

” She scoffs into the phone. “He fucking honked the horn at me, Bennett.”

My anger builds, and I stifle a noise in the back of my throat.

She pulls the phone close to her face. “Did you just growl at me?”

I laugh even though there’s nothing funny about any of it. “He honked the horn at you, and you went on the date with him anyway?”

She waves her hand in the little square on the phone, dismissing my comment. “But do you know what I thought about the whole time we sat at dinner?”

“What?” I ask quietly, nervous about what she may say.

“That you would never do that.” She takes a breath like she’s afraid of what she’s about to say. “So maybe I do know what a good man is.”

My chest tightens at her words. I should be in Bluemoon.

What am I even doing out here in Seattle?

Savannah keeps pushing for me to do more than just work the line in a local kitchen.

She just wants her dad to fast track our lives to something big, not allowing me the time to build it myself.

And the more we fight about this, the less I think we can make a relationship work when it seems she’s embarrassed I just work in a kitchen.

Blossom never pushed for fast; she just supported my dream.

She loved that I worked in our local bar throughout high school.

She never made me feel bad about starting slow, even on nights we would stare at The Luxury, wishing for more.

“Ambition isn’t a race, it’s a drive we support together,” she’d say.

“I’m sorry, Peach. I should be there with you. ”

She shakes her head no, but her eyes are sad. “No, you’re right where you’re supposed to be. You’re living your best life, making a great future for yourself.”

I hate that she speaks about me in a singular sense, repeating those same words she’s used since I left for college. “I’m doing it for us. And I won’t be living my best life until I’m back with you.”

Her frown deepens, and I cringe at my confession. It slipped out before I could think, but I don’t regret saying it. I see her turning something over in her mind.

“Do you think we’ll be friends forever?”

“No.”

“Bennett!” she exclaims, the sound more exasperated than surprised, knowing I’m teasing, probably already knowing what I’m going to say.

I continue to push. “You didn’t forget about our pact, did you?”

Her features soften and that smile I love appears. The one I fell in love with when we were ten, the one I still dream about now. “You’re serious about that?”

“On my life, I am.”

We hold each other's eyes through the small screen. She swallows hard before saying, “Looks like I did find a good man.”

“Don’t date anymore, Blossom. It's killing me.”

She laughs but sniffs like she’s trying to keep the tears away. “Stay away from the models of Seattle, Bennett. It’s killing me .”