Page 29 of Truth or More Truth (Throwback RomComs #3)

twenty-eight

. . .

I ’m being an absolute chicken, and I hate that. I’m not usually afraid of anything other than something terrible happening to my daughter, but I’m scared to tell Melissa about Kelli and Nanette. It’s been a week since the wedding, and I know she deserves an explanation from me.

After what she said about not looking forward to being the parent of a teenager, I’m even more hesitant to tell her.

To Melissa, that was a throwaway thought that most people have before they’re parents of teenagers.

Actually, it’s a thought parents of teenagers have on a daily basis, if I’m honest. But what she said stuck with me.

Would it even be fair of me to ask someone her age to consider being the instant parent of a thirteen-year-old?

It hasn’t even been a decade since she was a teen herself.

Not that I think she’d be a bad parent or that Kelli wouldn’t love her, but that’s not the point.

I keep telling myself I need to break things off with Melissa before we really start anything, but I don’t think I can make myself do it.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been interested in getting to know and spending time with a woman, and I’m hesitant to give that up.

I should probably talk to one of my friends about this, but I know what they’ll say—to go for it.

Last night I was so desperate I almost talked to Wendy about it on the phone, but even though I trust that she wouldn’t tell Melissa any details of that conversation now, I can’t guarantee she wouldn’t let something slip down the road, and I don’t need Melissa to ever know how unsure I am about this situation.

“Ready to go see Mom?” Kelli stands in my home office doorway decked out in a New Kids on the Block T-shirt and stonewashed jeans rolled up at the hem above her bright white Keds.

I pull my wallet and keys out of my desk drawer and join my daughter at the door. She wraps her arms around me, and I squeeze her tightly, amazed by how she’s less than a foot shorter than me now.

“You think the doctor will tell us she can go home tomorrow, like she thought yesterday?” Kelli asks as she leads the way through the house toward the garage.

I nod. “I hope so.”

“I’m ready for her to be home. Opal’s coming, right?”

“Yes.” I open the passenger door to my black BMW and usher Kelli inside. “She’s moving her stuff in this afternoon and will stay as long as we need her.”

“Kell, why don’t you go get your dad a snack from the cafeteria? He’s acting bossier than usual, and I’m hoping that’s just because he’s hungry.”

Kelli laughs at her mom’s observation and waves her hand toward me in the universal “hand over the money” motion. I pull a few bills out of my wallet and slap them onto her palm.

“Thanks, Daddy.” Kelli kisses my cheek and rushes out of the hospital room.

“You love it when she still calls you Daddy, don’t you?” Nanette gives me a fond look.

My chest squeezes. “I do, but it rarely happens anymore—usually only when she wants something from me. I can’t believe she’s a teenager. When did that happen?”

“Overnight, it seems.” Her face breaks out into a sly grin. “Now, before she gets back, tell me about this woman you mentioned the other day. And don’t hold back. I want to know everything.”

I guess Nanette is the one I’m talking to about this, and I can’t say I’m upset about it. Since she doesn’t know Melissa, she might be the best person to give me an unbiased opinion.

“Her name is Melissa, and she’s friends with the Hamiltons. She grew up with Ash and Randall, and she’s close friends with Wendy and Leslie. And she works for the Cubs, so she also has that connection to them and to Diego.”

“And to you. I’m guessing she was in the wedding, then?”

“Yeah, both of the Hamilton weddings. I haven’t spent much time with her …

well, I hadn’t until last week. I’m sure Kelli told you my flight from Chicago to Little Rock was cancelled.

Melissa was also booked on that flight.” I tell her about the drive, the shared motel bed in Illinois, our conversations on the road, and even what happened at the wedding reception.

Nanette cocks her head to the side. “There’s a lot to unpack there, but there’s also something you’re not telling me. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve told me a lot more than I thought you would, but you’re holding back. What is it?”

I groan. “How do you know me so well?”

“Might be my fifteen years of experience as your friend, wife, ex-wife, co-parent, and backyard neighbor.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “But don’t deflect. Tell me everything, or I won’t give you my thoughts.”

I look down at my hands. “After the rehearsal dinner, I was driving us back to the hotel, and a deer jumped out in front of us. I didn’t handle it well.”

“Oh, Bobby.” Nanette’s voice is full of compassion. “Panic attack?”

I nod.

“How did Melissa handle that?”

A lump forms in my throat at the memory. “Exactly the way I needed her to.”

“I don’t get the details on that?”

“Not on what she did or said, but …” I close my eyes.

“But …? ”

“I didn’t tell her why I reacted that way. I haven’t told her about Kelli or you or the accident.”

Nanette sucks in a breath. “What? Why?”

“To be fair, I was planning to tell her on our way back to Chicago, but then I came here.” I hold up a hand.

“I’m not blaming you. I’m just explaining.

But I didn’t tell her—and still haven’t told her—because things happened so fast. You know I don’t tell many people about my personal life and why.

I do trust her, but I guess I didn’t want the reality of my life to ruin what might be happening between us.

She deserves a man who can give her everything, who doesn’t have all these other responsibilities.

She’s young, being an instant step-parent of a teenager is not one of her life goals, and she moved back home to Chicago last year to be close to her parents.

She can’t move here, and I can’t move there.

It’s just too much to ask of her to try to have a long-distance relationship with me when it can’t go anywhere. ”

“But you don’t know that, Bobby.” Nanette holds her hand out to me, and I scoot forward on my chair so I can take it in mine. “You haven’t given her the chance to decide for herself.”

“She said she wants to try long-distance, but I can’t imagine a scenario where she’d jump at my offer once she knows the entire truth about my life.”

“You underestimate yourself. You’re not everyone’s cup of tea, we all know that, but since she hasn’t gone running for the hills yet, it sounds like you might be her cup. And I think she’s definitely your cup.”

I chuckle. “She is, and I don’t even like tea.”

“That’s good, because I got you a Mountain Dew.” This comes from Kelli, who hands over my soda with a giant grin. “Now, tell me who this cup of tea lady is. And don’t even try lying to me, Dad. You think you have a poker face, and maybe you do at work, but I can always tell when you’re lying.”

Now it’s Nanette’s turn to chuckle. “Chip off the old block.”

I run my hand through my hair and then back down to cover my face. “Do I really have to do this?”

“Yes,” mother and daughter demand in unison.

When I hesitate, Nanette sums up the situation for Kelli.

“Your dad has a friend he drove from Chicago to Arkansas with, and it turns out he likes her a lot. I mean, a lot.” She smirks at me.

“But she lives in Chicago, and he lives here, and he doesn’t think she would move here, and therefore he’s giving up and is going to die a lonely, grumpy old man. ”

“What?!” Kelli slams her drink down onto the small table and props her hands on her hips. “You can’t give up. You never date anybody. You never like anybody. Scoop this woman up right now!” Her eyes dart to Nanette. “What’s her name?”

“Melissa,” Nanette replies in a sing-song voice.

“Oooo! Melissa and Bobby, sittin’ in a?—”

I slice my hand through the air. “All right, that’s enough from the peanut gallery. It’s not really your concern.”

Kelli’s jaw drops. “Not my concern? Not my concern? Dad, it’s so totally my concern.

All you do is work and take care of us. You need some fun and excitement in your life.

You need to do things that don’t involve me or sports.

You need … you know.” She waggles her eyebrows, and I almost gag at her insinuation.

Not that she’s wrong, but she’s my daughter.

She doesn’t need to be talking about my sex life.

Sheesh. This conversation has gone off the rails.

Nanette has the gall to giggle before shutting our precocious daughter down. “Kell, that’s definitely not your concern. But you’re right about one thing. Your dad needs some fun in his life, and I think Melissa is just the ticket.”

My answering machine light is blinking when Kelli and I arrive back home, and when I hit the play button, Wendy’s voice fills the air.

“Robert Neanderthal Jacobs, if you don’t call Melissa within the next twenty-four hours, I’m telling her everything myself.

I don’t care if that means you can’t trust me ever again, because I can’t take this anymore.

You said you’d call her, and I know you keep your word, but it’s been a week.

A week. The statute of limitations is up tomorrow.

Do I make myself clear?” She huffs. “That’s what I thought.

” Her tone then switches from stern schoolmarm to concerned friend.

“And I hope everything’s going fine with Nanette.

Tell her and Kelli we say hi and we’re thinking about them.

OK, bye.” I think she’s done but then she adds, “Call her,” in her stern voice again.

“I guess she told you,” my daughter says as she falls onto my leather couch and props her shoe-clad feet on the coffee table.

I nudge her leg with my foot.

“Feet off or shoes off. You pick.”