Page 39 of The Disasters of Dating (Love Connections #6)

KEATON

You are socially active and broad minded.

Learn Chinese: 尴尬的 — Gāngà de — Embarrassing

Poppy’s quiet as we drive toward the ice cream shop. Not that I blame her. I’m not sure what I’d do if I discovered my dad had a girlfriend. And to find out when I had a date with me? I can’t even. But I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say. What is the protocol for something like this?

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask quietly.

She looks out the window. “Which part? That my mom apparently has a boyfriend or that she hid it from me or that I can’t help but think that the universe was right about us after our first dinner.”

I nod my head until it sinks in what she said. “Wait, what? Why do you think the universe was right?”

She looks over at me. “Come on, Keaton. If we count the first dinner, we have had six dates or whatever you want to call them. A third of them have been an utter disaster.” She sighs. “What else are we supposed to think?”

I grip the steering wheel. Will this be her response anytime something doesn’t go right in our relationship? “I can think of several things which have nothing to do with the universe.” I sigh. “If we were a batting average, we’d be doing fantastic.”

“But we aren’t a batting average, Keaton. And in no other scenario is thirty-three percent a good average.” She turns her whole body in her seat. “But for the sake of argument, what are the other things? How can you explain why we keep having such bad dates?”

I shake my head. “First of all, I don’t think we’ve had any bad dates.”

“Sha,” she blurts.

I hurry on. “I mean, there were some unfortunate accidents the first time, but it didn’t make me want to see you any less.

In fact, I think if anything, it made me want to get to know you more.

Anyone who could handle that situation with the kind of grace you did was someone I wanted to know better. ”

Her head tilts to the side. I love that look. It’s got a slight “you’re-crazy-but-I-might-be-on-board” ring to it.

“And second, I wouldn’t say this was a bad date either—well, except for the unfortunate time at the restaurant.

I’d totally take a do-over on that part.

But I enjoyed getting to know your mom and Adam.

Sure, it was a little intense there for a minute, but…

” I pause, not sure if I should say what I’m thinking.

“I liked that you reached for me when you were facing something hard. It made me feel needed and like we had some sort of connection. Even though it was a little awkward.”

She reaches up and grasps hold of her necklace. I know—or at least Lincoln knows—that it helps her feel grounded and calm. Is she feeling ungrounded and uncalm right now? Because of her mom? Or because of me?

“Really? You don’t think we are being told we’re not a good match?” She stares at me. “Why else would everything have happened while you were there?”

I shake my head. “Did you ever consider that maybe the universe,” I’m tempted to put it in air quotes but think better of it, “put me there with you so you didn’t have to go through it alone?

Maybe it happened that way to show us that we ARE meant to be together.

” I smile out the front windshield. That was a great argument.

I can’t believe I thought of it right in the moment instead of while I’m trying to fall asleep tonight at my hotel.

She frowns. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

I reach over and pick up her hand, folding it into mine. “Well, maybe it’s time you did. And maybe you and the universe are not quite as in sync as you think.” I look over with a grin. Did she hear my rhyme?

She looks at me through side-eyes, and I realize it was lost on her. “ Maybe.” She doesn’t sound convinced, but then her voice changes. “I mean, Mercury has been messing with me big time this month.”

I chuckle and nod. “I have no idea about the Mercury thing, but I’m willing to learn.” I glance over at her necklace. “Tell me what those stones mean. Why do you rub them so much?”

She looks at me with a weary expression. “You don’t have to pretend to be interested.”

I frown, slightly offended. “I’m not pretending. They’re obviously important to you. You’ve worn some kind of stone every time I’ve seen you. And I would like to know why.”

“They’re crystals, actually.” She shifts in her seat and stares at my profile. I glance at her, as often as I feel safe, from the corner of my eye. “You really want to know about them?”

I nod. Why does she find that so hard to believe? “I do.”

She lifts the necklace over her head and holds it in her hand.

“This crystal is called Apache Tears or obsidianite.” She lifts up one of the black stones.

“Its properties include grief healing, grounding, and protection.” She points to the yellow crystals—both of them look totally like stones. “And this is amber.”

“That’s the stuff where the mosquitoes were found in Jurassic Park, right? That they got the dinosaur DNA from?”

She smiles for the first time since we discovered her mom with Adam. “Yeah. But it’s more than that. It provides warmth and nurturing and well-being—all the things I need tonight.”

I nod. I’m not sure that I believe the crystals/stones are giving her those things.

I think it’s probably a matter of her mind doing it and her attributing it to the stones.

But who am I to tell her she’s wrong? “How did you get into stones and horoscopes?” I’m hoping that information might tell me more than her education on the stones has.

She sighs and frowns. “I started using them when my dad died.”

I look straight ahead. Her voice has gone quiet, and I don’t want to interrupt or give her the wrong facial expression and have her shut down. On the few occasions that her dad’s death has been mentioned, she seems to shut the conversation down pretty quickly.

“I was pretty young when he died, and it was hard to make sense of everything. Horoscopes were something that guided me.” She glances over at me.

“I know they’re made up and not real. Trust me, I’ve been informed of that on several occasions and by nearly everybody I know.

” There’s a bite to her voice. Do people disregard her or at least her belief in horoscopes and even crystals?

I remember when we were at the airport that first day and she got defensive when I suggested she might be a vegan.

There was an edge then, too. “But it didn’t matter to me that they were made up.

It was still something that helped me make sense of what was happening in my life.

It gave things order and reason. They were a type of roadmap for me to follow when everything else in my life was in chaos. ”

I nod. “I can understand that. Especially at such a young age. Didn’t you say you were nine when your dad died?”

She nods. “Yeah. And the crystals? They were something tangible that I could hold on to. They became my anchors when my whole life felt adrift. I’d collected rocks with my dad when we’d go places—especially camping.

Then, just after he died, I was watching an infomercial on TV late one night—” She glances from the necklace over to me.

“I was supposed to be in bed, but I kept having nightmares, and that made falling asleep hard.”

My chest tightens as I think about what she must have gone through. Losing my mom was the hardest thing I’ve ever endured. And I was an adult. I can’t even imagine losing a parent at nine. Everything she’s saying makes perfect sense.

“The commercial was for a rock tumbler—apparently, rock tumbling enthusiasts watch a lot of late-night television. But anyway, they showed this beautiful pink stone and said it was called rose quartz. I looked it up on the internet, and the world of crystals opened up to me. I learned amethyst helps with nightmares. And obsidianite helps with healing grief. Even though they weren’t the rocks we had collected together, they were something tangible that helped me feel connected to my dad.

And helped me manage feelings I didn’t know how to manage otherwise. ”

She rubs at the stone. “I won’t say that these crystals do everything that the ‘experts’ say they do.

” She puts the word expert in air quotes, and I realize she doesn’t believe the world is entirely ruled by the stars and crystals, but that she has made them be what she needed them to be in a confusing world.

She continues. “But they put me in the right frame of mind. And when I touch them, it reminds me of the mental state I’m trying to achieve...trying to maintain.”

“It makes a lot of sense.” I smile over at her.

Her brow creases. “Really?”

I nod. “Totally.”

We pull up to the ice cream shop, and there is a line waiting out the door and down the sidewalk. I glance over at her. “Do you want to wait in the line? Maybe we should come back another time.”

“It’s always like this.” She lifts a shoulder. “I think it’s worth it. But it’s up to you.”

I nod. “Alright. I suppose there’s no harm in waiting.

” I hop out of the car and walk around to her side, pulling open her door.

I take Poppy’s hand to help her out but keep hold of it as we walk to the restaurant.

My stomach does a little flip-flop. You’d think it was the first time I’ve held her hand, not like the eighth or ninth.

I smile over at her. “I can’t tell you the last time a girl let me open her door for her.”

Her cheeks pink slightly. “Sorry. That’s from my dad.

He always told us that any man worth his salt opens the door for a lady.

He drilled it into my brother, Brody’s, head.

And he made sure that my sister, Sadie, and I wouldn’t settle for a guy treating us with anything but respect.

” A hint of a smile plays on her lips as we take our place in line.

“Once a guy I was with got all the way into the movie theater before he realized I wasn’t behind him.

He was irritated when he found me still sitting in the car. ”

“Are you kidding me?”

“About which part?” she asks.

“All of it, I guess. I think there was more than one red flag with that guy.” I can’t believe anyone could be so obtuse as to not realize Poppy wasn’t with them.

She lifts a shoulder. “It made it easy to decide not to waste my time on him.”

“I should hope so.” I nod. “I think I would have liked your dad.”

She smiles up at me. “I think he would have liked you, too. You’re a good guy.”

The text string on my other phone flashes through my mind. Would her dad like me if he knew what I’d done—which maybe he does know? I can’t imagine he would. If I were her dad, I’d steer her far away from me and Lincoln. Maybe it’s time to come clean on that.

Just then, a server passes with a tray laden with the biggest dishes of ice cream I’ve ever seen. Like some of them were almost as big as my head. “What is that?”

Poppy laughs. “That’s the ice cream. It’s all made in store, as are all the sauces.”

I blink several times. “Man, I don’t think I banked enough calories for one of those. ”

She pats my stomach, and her brows go up. “I think you’ve got some give.”

We are quiet as I watch different giant ice creams being delivered to various tables. I’m not sure how she expects me to eat one of those things.

Finally, the hostess shows us to an empty table and sets the menus down in front of us. I put mine to the side and look at Poppy.

She looks at me with a concerned look. “What?”

“I have no idea what to order. I’m going to leave that decision up to you.”

“I don’t know what you want,” she protests.

“How am I supposed to eat one of those? They’re huge.” I fold my arms over my chest.

“Are you seriously refusing to order ice cream?” She looks at me like I’m crazy. “Do you want to share?”

Now, there’s a fantastic idea. “I’d love to share. What kind do you usually get?”

“Do you like peanut butter?” Her brows lift, and I want to reach over the table and kiss her. But I refrain…grudgingly. Where’s a kiss cam when you need one?

“I do like peanut butter,” I say.

“Then I think we should get the Terry’s Peanut Butter Cup. It’s my favorite.”

“Sold,” I say.

Our server comes with water and takes our order. He doesn’t seem remotely surprised that we only order one ice cream. It seems we are not the first to share one of these monsters.

I look over and Poppy’s head is shaking.

“What?” I ask. Have I done something wrong?

“I can’t believe she’s been hiding this. A boyfriend? Do you know how many lies she has told me over the last month to cover this up? I thought she had Alzheimer’s or dementia.”

I’m not sure if she wants me to answer the question or if she is just ranting. I’m here for her either way.

She stares at me expectantly, so I guess she wants an answer.

“I’d guess it’s a relief. A boyfriend seems much healthier than either of those two things.”

Her eyes widen and I think perhaps I was wrong and she was just venting.

But then she starts to laugh. “Did you know she is now planning a food drive because that was one of her lies? I guess it’s the least she can do. Can you imagine, lying about helping starving people?”

I try to smother my grin. “She sounds like a degenerate.”

“Right?” she agrees, but she is smiling. And it makes me all kinds of happy to know that I contributed. “Thanks for not running out of the house and leaving me to deal with it on my own.”

I put my hand on hers. “ Anytime. There’s no place I’d rather be.” And I mean it. Wherever Poppy is. That’s where I want to be.