When I was thinking about where I wanted to take Ellie for a first date, the house was tempting, but she and I have spent enough time there. Plus, I didn’t want her to feel pressured into taking things further than we already have, so I spent my afternoon mapping out record stores within driving distance of Lake Wisteria.
I called them ahead of time and offered to pay whatever amount to keep them empty and open after their usual operating hours, and they agreed excitedly, although Ellie doesn’t know that.
She gawks at me when I open the door despite the signage on the front. “It says they’re closed!”
“Must have been a mistake.” I flip the sign and usher her inside. “See?” The employee waves at us before telling us to look around for as long as we’d like.
I press my lips against her ear with the flower tucked behind it. “Happy hunting.”
She lets out an excited noise before grabbing my hand. “You have to help me.”
“Of course. Whatever you want.”
She grins.
“What are you looking for?” I ask.
“I mean Frankie Estelle is great, but I also love Cornelia Jones, Winnifred Carmine, and Astrid and the Treble Makers.” She claps her hands together and does a little happy dance, and I immediately know I made the right choice.
I could have scoured the internet for every record she wanted to collect and bought them, but I knew she would be happiest physically visiting record shops and sifting through endless boxes of dusty vinyls together.
I had questioned my idea because when I told Julian and Dahlia about it, they seemed slightly confused, but I should have known that no one knows my girl like I do.
Ellie spends the next hour flipping through vinyls, answering my questions, and sharing her favorite songs and records with me. I always appreciated music, but hearing her talk about it brings the subject to life for me, and I swear I could spend forever listening to her speak about it.
She doesn’t find any of the records she was originally searching for, but she has me carry a stack of possibilities around the store that grows with every box she checks.
When she eventually asks me to set it down on the checkout counter so she can decide which one she wants to take home, I pretend I didn’t hear her as I head to the front door.
“Wait!”
I glance over my shoulder. “Let’s go. We’ve got two more stores left to hit before our dinner reservation.”
“We have to pay!”
I laugh to myself and ignore her.
“Rafa!”
I absolutely love it when she says my name like that. For that, I pluck a record from a box that she had been eyeing but never added to the pile and set it on top of the rest.
“Where are you going?”
The bell above the door jingles when I push it open with my foot, and she chases after me.
Ellie runs in front of me and stops. “Wait. Did you pay the store to stay open?”
“Surprised you didn’t figure it out sooner.”
Her eyes narrow. “Okay. Listen. I know you’re rich—”
I fake my surprise. “Who told you?”
She lightly swats my shoulder with a laugh. “Come on. Be serious.”
“I am.”
“But—”
“You didn’t have a problem with my money before.”
“Things were different.”
“How?”
“I was your employee.”
“And now you’re my…”
She raises her brows in silent question.
My mouth suddenly feels dry. I’m not ready to put a label on this—this thing—but I know it is serious. These feelings aren’t casual, although I’m not ready to categorize them just yet. Doing so wouldn’t be fair to Ellie, but I know I want her.
Only a couple of weeks ago, I was determined to spend the next however many years alone, so I need time to process what life with a partner would look like. Can I learn to let go of my past and trust Ellie wholeheartedly? Will I be able to get married again and expand my family?
If I don’t stop now, my spiral will never end.
I clear my throat. “Well, you’re important. And people who are important to me accept being spoiled from time to time.”
If I wasn’t so attuned to her expressions, I probably wouldn’t have noticed her smile faltering or the way her eyes slightly dim, but I observe everything when it comes to her, which is a blessing and a curse based on the way my stomach clenches at her disappointment.
She recovers quicker than me. “You’re important to me too.” She stands on the tips of her toes and kisses my cheek. “Thank you.”
“Ready?”
She nods, and we change the subject while walking back toward the truck, although I can’t shake the feeling that I disappointed her somehow.
I need to be better for her, or else I’m going to lose her before I ever truly had her.
Ellie and I spend the rest of our date night hopping around record stores before she asks me to stop at a drive-in chain that brings the food out to your vehicle. I haven’t been to the fifties-inspired place since I was a kid, and apparently neither has Ellie.
Turns out she is extremely nostalgic, which was something I hadn’t known about her.
Songs. Childhood shows. Her love of family traditions and a blanket she can’t fall asleep without despite being twenty-nine years old.
I can’t relate to that kind of personality trait, but the way she lights up whenever she talks about the things she enjoys piques my interest and makes me want to appease her love for the past. So I canceled our reservation at a fancy steakhouse as I pulled into one of the empty spots outside of the restaurant.
I don’t even let Nico eat snacks in my truck, but all it takes is Ellie batting her lashes and saying please in that strained voice of hers for me to cave.
If Julian knew, he would give me shit for a week.
A woman in roller skates and a costume inspired by the fifties comes out to my truck, and we order burgers, fries, and a single strawberry milkshake. I know why Ellie insists on splitting our fries and sharing a milkshake instead of ordering two, and it makes me appreciate her even more than I already do.
Ellie takes over my speaker system and plays Astrid and the Treble Makers, which apparently were big back in the days of jukeboxes and poodle skirts, while we talk and eat our food. I don’t have to worry about keeping up false pretenses or overthinking my next sentence, and any lull in conversation is comforting rather than uncomfortable.
She wraps her lips around the straw and sucks, completely unaware of how uncomfortably tight my pants have become in the process of her drinking the milkshake.
“Are you sure you don’t want some?” She offers me the plastic cup.
“Nope.” I’d much rather watch her, thank you very much.
She laughs to herself. “I thought you did?”
“Changed my mind.” My gaze drops to her mouth.
Her face lights up as it clicks for her, and she makes a show of taking another sip.
I narrow my eyes.
She rolls hers with a smile. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about your caloric intake or something.”
“Nope.” I readjust my position in my seat.
“You could always work out tomorrow if you’re feeling guilty.” She waves the milkshake in front of my eyes. “It’ll be worth it.”
Guilt is the last thing I’m feeling, and based on her teasing smile, she knows that too.
Her voice drops as she says, “I’ll even join you.”
I blink. “I thought you hated working out.”
“I never said I would be participating.” She winks. “Turns out I’m allergic to cardio.”
“Explains why you failed PE.” She had mentioned it once during one of our hikes in Hawaii, and I’ve never let it go since.
Her nose scrunches with distaste. “The coach was such a dick.”
“I know. I couldn’t stand him.”
“Didn’t he coach the soccer team?”
“Yup.”
“Why did you put up with him, then?”
“Because my uncle loved me being part of the team.”
“Did you love it?” Ellie is getting better at asking me pointed questions like this one, and while I appreciate her paying attention, it makes evading the truth harder.
I pause for a second before answering. “No.”
Her mouth falls open. “Weren’t you the captain, though?”
“Yeah.”
“But why would you play a sport you didn’t love?”
I stare out the truck’s window. “I think you know why.”
“I want you to tell me anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ve been holding this all in for years, and I think it would be good for you to open up about it.” She touches my face affectionately, and I turn to face her again.
Fine. I can do that. For her.
“My uncle always talked about how he loved being on his old team and how he wished Julian would do the same.”
“So you stepped up.”
I nod. “Julian was too focused on school and his other clubs, so I took advantage of the opportunity to be a favorite for once.” My gaze drops, and shame pours out of me in waves. “My uncle was so happy. He went to almost all the games once I joined the team.”
“You played a sport with a coach you didn’t like because it made someone else happy?”
“I know it seems stupid—”
“It’s not stupid, Rafael. It’s so damn sad that no one ever took notice.”
“To be fair, I was really good at hiding it, and it’s not like I hated sports.”
“Did anyone have an idea about how you really felt?”
“Julian had his suspicions, but he never called me out on it.”
“Have you considered talking to him about it?”
“Well, no.” Should I have? The thought of opening up to him like that terrifies me, especially when he has a right to judge me for acting this way for two decades.
I love my cousin, and I don’t want him to think I’ve been deceiving him or acting devious.
I’m just…a little broken.
Ellie seems to sit on that for a moment before saying, “I want you to promise me something.”
“Hm?”
“Will you always be honest with me? Even if you think I won’t like what you have to say or the way you react to something, I would rather you tell me the truth than ever feel the need to hide behind a lie because you’re afraid it might push me away.”
“I can do that.” I clear my throat. “I will do that.”
The more time I spend with her, the more I come to realize that she is right.
I’ve given her countless opportunities to give up and go, yet she sticks around, proving time and time again that I can trust her. That I can love her too.
So long as I’m willing to take the risk.
I’m reluctant to drop Ellie off right away, so I take the long way back to her house and extend our date by another twenty minutes, solely because I don’t want to let her go. If she were still living with me, I’d take her home and show her just how much tonight meant to me.
How much she means to me.
My heart hammers in my chest as I open the passenger side door and help her hop out of the truck, my palm sweating as I press it against the small of her back and lead her to the front porch.
Despite having kissed Ellie plenty of times, I’m nervous about doing the same tonight. Perhaps it has something to do with me finally accepting that we are moving toward something serious, or maybe it has everything to do with the way she looks up at me with a smile that robs me of my next breath and all coherent thoughts.
I can hardly hear her thanking me for tonight’s date over the blood pounding in my ears, but I nod anyway.
We stop in front of her door, and she rises on her tiptoes and brushes her lips across mine. “Tonight was amazing. Thanks again.”
Instinct kicks in, and I trap her against my chest by curling my arm around her waist. I press my mouth over hers and kiss her hard. She melts into me, and I deepen the kiss until she drops the bag of vinyls by our feet and wraps her arms around the back of my neck.
Heat travels down my spine and spreads to my groin as she returns my assault with her own, tearing through my self-control with the press of her lips and the brush of her tongue over the seam of my mouth.
Before I have a chance to do the same, the front door swings open, and her parents invite me in for a drink.
Ellie is beyond embarrassed at being caught kissing, so I consider declining the invitation to help her save face, but then her stepdad wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me inside, declaring he makes the best mixed drinks in town.
Bold claim but who am I to turn down a free drink and an opportunity to spend more time with Ellie?
Her parents are kind, which makes sense given how sweet Ellie is. I’ve met Burt, but I’ve never really spoken to him outside of calling his store to book Nico’s music lessons.
“Please excuse my husband. He’s harmless.” Ellie’s mom shoos Burt away and offers me her hand. “I’m Mrs. Sinclair.” I’ve seen her around town, but we have never had a conversation before.
“Nice to meet you.” I shake her hand. “You have a beautiful home.”
“You think so?”
I take in the warm tones and tasteful decor and furnishings. “Yes. Reminds me of my aunt’s.”
Her smile is bright. “Thanks! I designed it all myself.”
“Beatrice! I need your help carrying the drinks!” Burt calls from the kitchen.
“One second.” Mrs. Sinclair rushes out of the room.
Ellie’s ears tint pink, matching the flower she still has in her hair. “You really don’t need to stay for a drink.”
“Trying to get rid of me already?” I smirk.
“I’m trying to save you.”
“More like you’re trying to save yourself.” I tuck my index finger under her chin and lift it. “Did you really think I was going to pass on the opportunity to see your baby photos?”
Her mom pops her head out of the kitchen. “Did someone say baby photos?”
“I’d love to see some if you have them lying around.” I grin while Ellie groans.
“Of course! Let me get you that drink first.”
I wink at Ellie. “I’d love that.”
Joining the Sinclairs for drinks put a few things into perspective, and I spend my quiet drive back to the farmhouse thinking about tonight.
One, Burt and Beatrice are madly in love with one another despite being married for fifteen years—a fact that Ellie pointed out on two separate occasions when they were caught whispering to each other and giggling to themselves.
Two, Ellie pretends to be annoyed by her parents’ antics, but there was a special glimmer in her eyes whenever she looked at them, only for it to fade a bit when she glanced over at me.
I didn’t need to read her mind to know what she was thinking. The answer was written all over her face, and it absolutely cut me up inside.
She mentioned wanting to get married, and after hanging out with her parents, I understand why. They really are a storybook example of what it means to find the right person when you least expect it. Of what it is like to choose a partner who can love someone else’s child, like Burt does Ellie.
Knowing Ellie’s mom, who went through hell during her first marriage, learned to love again hits too close to home for me. The similarities between our lives and past relationships make me reconsider the future I thought I wanted.
I swore off marriage a long time ago, but then again, I said the same thing about falling in love, yet here I am, slowly doing exactly that with Ellie.
Maybe I am more open to the idea than I originally thought, and it is all because of the woman who is putting my heart back together, piece by fragmented piece, like notes in one of her songs, transforming my never-ending sad one into a hopeful symphony.
