Every Other Saturday (33 page)

“Nothing,” she said. “Nothing at all. It was me.”

“Am I crazy to think you should have called me? Did I misunderstand our friendship? Was all this just—what was your word? Proximity?”

She shook her head, tears falling onto the flannel shirt. Her right leg hung off the couch while her left was pulled up under her, and he could see she was wearing small, ratty-looking gray gym shorts underneath. So much feeling surged in him that he couldn’t identify all of it. Lust. Anger. Longing. Pity. No, not pity. Something that made him want to make everything okay for her, even at his own expense.

He wiped one tear from her cheek. “What the hell is going on?”

She sniffled. “Look. I’ve been here, okay? Before Adam. I was always the girl who guys just want to be friends with. I’ve had unrequited feelings before, and I can handle it. I’m just a little out of practice.”

“Unrequited…feelings?”

“Please don’t make me say it again.” She gestured at the boot. “I’ve been humiliated enough.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Julia looked up, face red and wet and still pretty. “I broke my ankle New Year’s Eve. Running down Canton Street in heels. Looking for you.”

“At Mac Magee’s?” he said stupidly.

She gestured at her leg. “Didn’t make it that far.”

“What… Why didn’t you text?”

Julia took a deep, staggering breath. “Because, David, I am in love with you, and that’s not the sort of thing you tell someone over text message. Even when you know that they don’t love you back.”

“So now you’re the expert on how I feel.” His anger flared again, and he couldn’t hold it back, in spite of the joy he could feel rushing in behind it.
David, I am in love with you.

Her voice was steady. “You made things pretty clear on the radio.”

“Julia, about that day—”

She shook her head. “Don’t explain. Maybe you do have feelings for me, but wish you didn’t. Like you said, I’m not the one person for you.”

“Or maybe,” he put his hands on her wet cheeks, wiping tears with his thumbs, “I was wrong. Maybe I’m crazy about you. Maybe I know it, and you know it, and we’re both too damn stubborn to admit it.”

She looked up, black lashes wet with tears, blue eyes pleading. “I’m still not Jewish.”

He almost laughed. Holding her face, having realized that he could not imagine life without her, the barrier seemed absurd. “I don’t care,” he said. “Not anymore.”

“I’m broke,” she said, with a grim little smile. “And a train wreck.”

“Are you done?”

“Probably not.”

“Julia. I love you.” He could feel the stupid-ass grin on his face. “I’m in love with you. Damn. I thought that would be so hard to say. But it feels amazing. Try it.”

She bit her lip and smiled shyly at him. “I love you, too.” It was almost a whisper, but he felt like he could fly anyway.

“What if you wake up in a week or two and realize I’m not blog material? All the reasons you didn’t want to be with me are still true.”

He shook his head. “That’s the whole point. I don’t need the blog or some stupid checklist. In the last few months, I’ve been on eighteen dates. Tonight I realized my favorites were the nine dates with you.”

“But your parents, and the interviews, and…”

“I love you. No one can say anything to change that. Not even you.”

“Give it time.” She half laughed. But he felt her move toward him—almost imperceptible surrender. He pulled her the rest of the way, until his mouth was against hers.

“I just cleared my calendar.” He kissed her deeply, biting her bottom lip. “We’ve got nothing but time.”

Julia wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. Even in mid-April, the kitchen heated quickly beneath the tin roof. She’d opted not to turn on the air conditioner, and instead had the windows thrown open on both sides, providing unfiltered sunlight and the occasional afternoon breeze from the meadow.

Comparing her handiwork against the picture taped to the new brick wall, Julia decided the shade of yellow she’d created was perfect. And just in time: she heard the front door swing open—they’d kept the cowbell—and Caroline’s voice echo into the rustic building.

“Yes ma’am. Over forty liquor filling options, plus our dark chocolate Irish stout cupcakes. We rotate the flavors at the shop, but with a minimum of two dozen, you can special order anything.” Caroline held the phone with her chin, and smiled in silent greeting, unloading bags of party supplies onto the stainless-steel counter. “Why don’t you visit our website? It’s Bootleg Bakery dot com. You can order online.”

Caroline gestured in excitement at the counter, where Julia put the finishing touches on Katie the Princess’s royal party dress with an icing bag. “Beautiful!” she mouthed. Julia was gratified. She still preferred painting the furniture they sold in the front of the bakery, but decorator icing was becoming another favorite medium.

“You’re welcome to come in for a tasting. We’re closed this afternoon for a family event, but normally we’re open Tuesday to Saturday, with tastings by appointment.” Ending the call, Caroline kissed Julia on the cheek. “You’re an artist. She’s going to love it. Where is the birthday girl anyway?”

“Adam and Dave took the kids down to the creek to look for salamanders.”

Caroline’s eyes went wide. “In their party dresses?”

Julia laughed. “Brandon is in party shorts, but yes. I have emergency backups if anyone falls in.”

“You are entirely too calm.”

“I’m just happy that Brandon wants to get dirty. Besides, you need my calm to keep your crazy in check.”

Caroline ignored the insult in favor of family gossip. “So Adam and Dave together, huh? How’s that working out?”

“Funny. Adam is a little star-struck. He keeps clapping Dave on the back and trying to talk sports. He’s been much nicer since Dave and I…” Julia trailed off, unsure how to label their relationship. “Dating” would have been appropriate, except that it bore no resemblance at all to the dating Dave had done the previous fall.

“Since he’s been pitching from your mound?” Caroline added helpfully. “Penetrating your defensive line? Splitting your uprights?”

“Since we got together,” Julia said firmly. “And when did you learn those sports terms? Do you even know what they mean?”

“Some of them.” Caroline shrugged. “Ben and I came up with a whole list on the plane.”

“I’m glad my love life was a source of amusement on your marriage retreat. How was it, anyway? You look tan.”

The color deepened on Caroline’s bronze face. “For a first vacation alone since our honeymoon, we managed pretty well. I promised him we’ll do it once a year, so you’ll have to get used to running the bakery by yourself from time to time.”

“It’s fine. Easier than the store, now that we have more help.” She put a final polka dot on the side of the cake’s bottom layer. “Has Ben forgiven you?”

Her sister sighed. “Mostly. The counseling is helping. And the change of scenery.” She gestured around at the renovated hardware store—now a rustic, Prohibition-themed bakery. They had been able to repurpose many items from the hardware store in the renovation. “Now that I’m home more, we’re figuring out what went wrong. Marriage is fucking hard.”

Julia smiled. “I failed that class once already, remember?”

“But now you’re dating the dating expert. I still think you should’ve gone on that Today Show interview with him.”

“Ugh. We’ve been over this. There’s enough public scrutiny on us here in Atlanta—I’m not ready to go nationwide.”

“You could have taken a selfie with Matt Lauer. How many chances like that do you get in life?”

Before Julia could respond, the back door opened and Mia ran in, ribboned pigtails flying behind her. “Mommy! Another car in the parking lot. Does that mean my friends are here? Is it time for cake?”

Julia bent down to kiss her daughter on the nose. “Patience, Mia-Bird. A five-year-old princess has to wait for special things...”

She stepped aside and Mia gasped. “Katie the Princess! You made it?”

Julia nodded. She’d started cake-decorating classes in January and was elbow-deep in frosting every day since. She had a talent for it, but this was her first experiment with fondant.

Mia launched into her, squeezing Julia’s skirt tight against her legs. “Mommy. It’s perfect,” she whispered. “Can I show it to Lyric?”

Julia looked up to see Dave leaning against the back door, grinning. He wore the lavender Oxford from his first visit to her house, shorts, and muddy sandals. She smiled, thinking neither of them would have believed where that first night would lead them.

“Tell you what, Mia-Bird, why don’t you go on out to the barn and help Aunt Caroline set the table? Then everyone can see your cake after we’ve played some games.”

“That’s our cue,” Caroline said. “Come on, birthday girl. Let’s go make sure the men are doing everything right in the barn.”

Dave walked toward her, patting Mia on the head and nodding at Caroline as they passed. “Beautiful.” He put a hand on Julia’s hip.

She glanced at the cake. “I’m pretty happy with it.”

“I wasn’t talking about the cake.” He brushed back a stray lock of hair that had escaped Julia’s bandanna, taking the covering off her head as he did. “Promise me something,” he murmured.

“I’ve promised you a lot recently.” She ran her hand down his arm. “In fact, just last night you made me promise to never stop doing that one particular thing you liked so much. As I recall, you made me promise that more than once.”

“Shh…” He kissed her neck. “If you start talking about that again, I’ll be forced to pull up your skirt and fuck you senseless, right here on this counter.”

“I’m almost positive that’s a violation of the health code,” Julia teased, letting her hand travel lightly down the front of his khaki shorts, enjoying the impact she was having on him.

“If the health inspector is a man, he’ll understand,” Dave said. “Especially if he sees you in this tank top/apron combination. If I’d seen you in this sooner, I might not have signed up for J-Date.” He kissed her bare shoulder, nipping it lightly with his teeth.

Julia could hear the voices out back, including the scattered shouts of the three children they had between them. She willed herself not to get carried away. “So what is the promise?”

“Oh,” he said, and put both hands in her hair, fingers spread wide. “You have to promise that if you ever consider converting to Judaism, you won’t become one of those women who hides their hair. I would go crazy if I couldn’t put my hands in it anytime I want.”

Caught in his gaze, she responded flirtatiously without thinking. “I thought the whole idea was to hide it from other men, keep it just for you?”

Then she realized what they’d both said and panicked. Why was he talking about conversion? Did he know? What was he expecting? And the head-covering rule, followed by very conservative and Orthodox Jews, only applied to married women. They hadn’t even talked about it yet, and here she was implying that... Shit. “Not that we are...or even thinking about… Ugh. I ruined the moment, didn’t I?”

Dave’s face was inches from hers, hands still tangled in her hair. He leaned in and gave her a long, slow kiss that made her insides watery. “Are you here?”

She nodded.

“You love me?”

She nodded again. They’d been saying it regularly for a few weeks, but it still gave her chills.

“In that case,” he kissed her again. “Moment’s fine.”

# # #

“Relax,” he whispered, holding the door as Julia carried the cake out toward the barn, watching her round ass sway enticingly under the long skirt. It was cute how worried she was about today: she wanted everything to be perfect for Mia.

“Daddy!” Lyric called, running toward them from the parking area. “Ms. Elizabeth is here with baby Jonathan. Can I hold him, please?”

“You have to ask Ms. Elizabeth, honey.” He waved to the petite preschool teacher and her towering blonde husband, Mack, who held a baby carrier in one hand and frilly pink gift bag in the other. Behind them, a familiar Jeep rolled into the gravel lot.

“Mommy!” Lyric shrieked.

Dave glanced at Julia in question.

“I’ve got this.” She turned carefully with the cake. “Go ahead.”

He met them in the parking lot. When they emerged from the Jeep, he shook Aaron’s hand and kissed Debbie on the cheek. It was still surreal seeing them together—he guessed it always would be—but it got a little less weird every time. Lyric was happy, and that mattered most.

He directed them into the barn, and Dave was reminded why Julia had always imagined large family dinners here and why she and Caroline planned to make it a special event space once the bakery was going strong. The windows were open, making the space light and airy, and sunlight glinted off the antique liquor bottle chandelier Debbie had special ordered. The long work table in the center was set with princess plates, party hats, and mason jars full of wildflowers, and surrounded by multi-colored pastel chairs of all shapes. All hand-painted, of course, by the woman he loved.

“Have to admit, you did a great job on the renovations,” he said to Debbie. “Here and in the store.”

She shrugged, pleased. “There was so much here to work with already, I just touched it up.”

“Um, you did more than that.” Julia approached to give Debbie a loose hug. She was still nervous around his ex-wife, not that he blamed her. “And you undercharged us, too. My sister and I both think you did most of this at cost. I don’t know how we can repay you.”

“Cupcakes will work,” Deb answered. “Those amaretto creams are addictive. Besides, I felt like I owed Dave a favor.” She glanced from Dave to Aaron, who looked at the floor.

Dave held up his watch. “Four and a half minutes. That’s officially the longest we’ve been without an awkward relationship reference. Why don’t you two go have a celebratory beer? There’s a bucket under the tire swing tree.” Debbie threw a mischievous smile over her shoulder as she and Aaron walked back out into the sunshine.

When they were alone, he watched Julia plate the cake, blue eyes intense with concentration as she slipped it onto the platter. Even when it was done, she looked worried.

“What’s up, Wonder Woman?” He came to stand next to her.

“Nothing.” She fussed with a wildflower jar.

He slipped his arms around her waist. “Even in the Man Cave, we know better than to believe when a woman says ‘nothing.’”

“What I said earlier, about the head covering…”

“It was a joke,” he said. “And I started it.”

“And Debbie, I can tell she thinks…well, helping me was a favor to you, so…”

Dave sighed and brought her closer, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. He knew Julia was nervous about the future. One display of their relationship status had been unavoidable: the two of them stood awkwardly last month, center court at Georgia Tech’s coliseum, while Phil Lundgren ran laps in a leopard print dress and enormous black pumps.

Otherwise, they had trod carefully around the subject: with each other, their kids, their exes, his parents. It had only been four months, and there were so many landmines, so many hearts that could be broken. Besides, with his love life public for so long, Dave treasured the fact that he could keep some things to himself. For example, the fact that he’d begun very casually looking at antique jewelry stores for a ring as unique as Julia—just in case—was a secret he’d kept from absolutely everyone.

“I have to tell you something,” she said. “Because Debbie knows and I don’t want you to hear it from her. If she hasn’t told you already.”

His guts twisted, brain running quickly through the possibilities. What now?

Julia sighed. “I’ve been taking a Judaism class at the synagogue. Once a week before afternoon car pool. Debbie knows because she filled in for the teacher this week.”

This announcement was so far from what Dave imagined; it took a minute to process. “You are taking a Judaism class? As in, for conversion?”

She shook her head. “Curiosity, mostly. I just wanted to learn more about it without you, or Adam, or anyone’s parents shoving it down my throat.”

His breathing returned to normal. “You know I would never pressure you,” he said. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid if I told you, you’d think I was trying to manipulate you, to change myself into someone you’d want to…marry.” The last word was a whisper. “I know we’re not ready to go there. But if I decide to convert, I want it to be for me, and my children. Not for Adam. Not even for you.”

Dave’s chest swelled. He kissed her hard, because if he didn’t he thought he would explode. When he released her, she leaned against the table, breathing hard. “Not the reaction I was expecting.”

He grinned at her. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. Insulted that I wouldn’t convert to Judaism just to be with you. Terrified that I might convert and you’d be stuck with me…”

“How about relieved because I thought something was seriously wrong for a second? Or proud that you’re the same hard-headed, insane woman I fell in love with?”

She smirked. “No. Those don’t sound right.”

He laughed. “First of all, I would never expect you to convert to Judaism to be with me, whether we got married or not.”

“But you’ve always said—”

“When are you going to learn that you can’t listen to what I say, woman? I thought you were the smart one in this relationship.”

She gave him a shy smile, and he felt himself stand straighter. “Second, there are a lot of things in life that terrify me. Nuclear war. NFL players with gun permits. The fact that one day I will have a teenage daughter…” He tilted his head toward the doorway where they could hear Mia and Lyric’s giggles at the arrival of more partygoers. “Or two. The idea of being stuck with you, as you put it, is not one of them. Not anymore.”

Her blue eyes were wide and shining. “Is it okay if I’m terrified enough for both of us?”

“Let’s see.” He held both her hands to his lips, kissing the flecks of icing on her knuckles as he spoke. “You’re in love with a guy known for being both a Neanderthal and a dating guru. His ex-wife is your decorator. You went into business with your sister because you hated working for her. And you’re about to be set upon by a pack of five-year-olds desperate for a sugar fix. In my opinion, you’d be crazy not to be terrified.”

Julia laced her fingers through his. “You’ll be with me?”

“Every step.”

She flashed him a bright smile and pulled him toward the party outside. “Then the moment’s fine.”

~~~