She Will Be Mine (New Horizon Book 2)

Chapter 17: Ronnie

When I get out of the tub, the house is oddly quiet. It seems that the babysitter finally did take the girls outside to play, which works well for me so that I’m able to take my time putting myself together and getting dressed without worrying that one of my sisters will barge in.

Then I wander down to the kitchen to see what I can find for breakfast, contemplating whether I should just skip it since it will be lunchtime before long. It wouldn’t be the first time, though I know my metabolism won’t thank me for it.

Glancing out the window over the kitchen sink, I notice that man out there playing with Amy and Ashley. He isn’t just sitting at the picnic table watching them the way that Mom and I tend to do, but he’s getting right in on the action with them.

Amy is swinging, and he’ll come push her and then chase off after Ashley, who seems to be playing some bizarre form of tag with him where the rules are constantly changing. But it’s not only her changing the rules on a whim, like she and Amy tend to do when they think they’re losing a game. The man is also calling out random modifications of his own whenever he pleases.

“No, the monkey bar isn’t the safe zone anymore. You have to make it all the way to the slide, or I win,” he hollers after her, making her squeal when he suddenly turns to pursue her.

“You’re not it, I am,” she giggles, turning mid-stride and switching to chasing after him.

“Oh no!” he shouts, dodging when she tries to tag him, though he manages to spin around and evade her in time.

“The grass is lava!” he calls out a moment later, and they both scramble to find something to climb up onto.

I’m impressed by how fit he seems to be. Considering his gray hair, I figured him to be older and frailer than his activity level suggests. But he seems rather youthful and spry still, which is good considering that my mom is only 40 herself, and I suspect this man is her Warren.

I don’t mind him being here when it means that the girls are burning off a lot of their excessive energy, at least not when there’s a wall and some distance between us. It will be a different story once they come back inside, especially considering the scene I made earlier.

I haven’t figured out what to say to him yet. I’m also wondering what exactly my mom has told him about me. She must have warned him about how I am because he didn’t seem bothered by it, but I still feel embarrassed.

Keeping busy always seems to work for me, so I decide to focus on getting a head start on lunch for four. But once I have the chicken and vegetables heating in the oven, my mind wanders back to this morning with Jason.

I know I can’t just leave it like that. He must be freaking out, and I owe him an explanation sooner rather than later so he won’t have to suffer long. As much as I hate revealing all my quirks and weaknesses to anyone, so much so that even Aly doesn’t know as much about me as Jason is beginning to, I think I’m going to have to suck it up and pull out my phone to fix this.

I open with, This morning was a disaster, but it wasn’t anything you did.

I don’t know what more to say, not without writing him an entire novel by text. But that feels like the most important part to tell him.

To my surprise, there’s no immediate response. He usually texts me right back, even when he’s been at work, though I’ve been trying to be mindful of that and not bother him while he’s working. But even then, even if all he can say is that he’s busy and we’ll talk later, it’s almost instantaneous.

There was a lot going on in my head that had nothing to do with you. It was the situation, but it wasn’t your fault, I add after a few minutes have gone by.

Still, no response. I don’t know what to think. I’m trying not to overthink it and freak out about nothing. That’s what clingy, codependent people do. That’s how you suffocate your partner, by being too needy and demanding.

Besides, the whole point of texting versus calling is that it doesn’t have to be instantaneous. A text conversation doesn’t have to happen in real time. That’s the appeal of it.

But I hate that he’s suddenly non-responsive on the very day that I had such a difficult morning. Maybe it really did scare him off. Maybe he’s not answering because he’s too busy packing his bags and getting ready to leave.

I glance over at the stove to check that the timer is set for the food and then drag myself into the living room to sit down and try to get a grip on my runaway thoughts. It's ridiculous that I'm already so worked up about my mate's lack of response. It hasn't even been an hour since he dropped me off, I don't think anyway.

Maybe Jason is already at Reggie’s. I don’t know his schedule yet, so it is entirely possible that he was scheduled to work right after he dropped me off, or maybe he decided to go in a little early since he was already in town. It’s also possible that if he's there now, Buddy made him leave his phone off so they can work undisturbed. That would actually make sense.

Which is why my next text is to my mother.

Is Jason working there today?

Not even a full minute later, she responds with, You were just with him. Why didn’t you ask then?

Because I was too busy trying to do things like breathe and not completely lose it, that’s why. But I don’t know how to respond to that without worrying her. I wish she’d just answer the question.

I think he’s scheduled to come in a couple hours so he can help Buddy for a bit and then be here to help the servers with the dinner rush. Everything okay?

Well, at least she finally answered the question, though that isn’t the answer I had hoped for.

I’m not working the dinner rush today, kid. I’ll be home around 4. We can talk then.

She must be getting concerned that I’m not responding, so I force myself to focus on sending her a reassuring, casual message so she doesn’t do something crazy like leave work early because she thinks I’m freaking out about stuff.

I am freaking out about stuff, but she doesn’t need to know that. She can’t help me with it anyway.

I was just curious. I forgot to ask, and I didn’t want to bother him. I bothered you instead because I know Buddy lets you keep your phone on you in case one of your pesky kids needs you.

That seems casual and chill enough, but just in case, I also send her some playful emojis, and then she sends a few back to me. Crisis averted. The last thing I need is to drag my mom home early and cut into her tips and pay.

The only problem is that our exchange has done nothing to soothe my troubled mind, which was why I bothered her in the first place. It's not like Jason to leave me hanging like this, and if he isn't working, then why haven't I heard back from him yet? I know our morning was weird and tense, but there's no way that he's upset enough to not want to talk to me. Right?

After a few cleansing breaths and several deleted drafts of another text to send him, the back door opens, and I hear the excited giggling of my sisters.

“It smells like lunch is already underway, so why don’t you girls head to the bathroom and get washed up?” the man suggests to them. “A mealtime washing, all the way from fingertips to elbows. Got it?”

“Got it,” I hear Ashley confirm. And then Amy adds, “Can we just take a bath instead? I have sand in my hair.”

“Sure, sure. Have a bath then. But you know what happens if I find any puddles on the floor afterward, yes?”

“Yes,” they answer in unison.

It’s impressive how compliant they seem with him, and how gentle he sounds with them. Stern, but not aggressive about it. I’m taking mental notes.

I also get up and move to one of the chairs because I sense that he will be coming in the living room next, and I don’t want him sitting next to me on the couch. Besides, the chair will be better anyway. It not only gives me a more secure place to sit but it also helps that I can feel the arms of the chair pushing on either side of me and keeping me grounded, almost like it's giving me a soothing hug.

This is pretty much as comfortable as it gets for meeting new people. The only thing that would be better is if I could find a desk to hunch over and pretend to be working. Then I wouldn’t even have to look at him, and he might assume I’m busy and leave me alone.

The girls come through the kitchen doorway and down the hall, not even noticing me. But I do notice that they’re walking for once instead of running. They always seem to be running.

The man appears only a few seconds after them, glancing at me and slowing his approach.

“Is it alright if I sit over here?” he asks, gesturing to the far end of the couch.

I nod, feeling my face start to flush. It’s awkward, and I’m already embarrassed about before, but it’s even worse now. He’s obviously being more cautious with me, which I appreciate but also hate. It is what I need, but I wish he could just comfortably walk through the house and not have to worry about upsetting me. I hate burdening people with my issues, forcing them to accommodate me instead of just acting however they would if I wasn't here, or if I wasn't the way I am.

“What happens?” I feel myself blurt out before I can stop it.

It’s because I can’t stop thinking about what he just said to the girls about their bath, and I’m still wondering what he meant. I just wish I didn’t say that, because now we’re going to have a chat about it. It's also awkward that I went with that instead of greeting him like a normal person.

“What happens when?” he returns my question, confused.

I take a breath, composing my response in my head before I speak so I won’t stutter.

“If you find puddles after their bath, what happens?” I ask slowly and deliberately.

“Oh, I guess you heard that then,” he chuckles, a faint blush rising to his own cheeks. “If they’re careless with their bath and splash around so much that it makes a mess, they’ll be cleaning the floor by hand and then scrubbing both toilets. It only took the once for them to decide it was better to just keep the water in the tub where it belongs.”

“Oh.”

I don’t know what more I can say. If I could trust myself, I’d tell him that’s a pretty good idea and I wish I had thought of it years ago. I’d also tell him he seems to be the perfect babysitter for them. But I know my mouth and brain won’t cooperate long enough for any of that, so I just leave it alone.

“I’m Warren, by the way. I’m told you know of me, and I’ve been hearing about you for some time, but it is nice to properly meet at long last. Viv can’t seem to stop talking about you, she’s so proud.”

“I’m sorry.”

It felt like the right thing to say, but he laughs, so I suppose it wasn’t.

It means more than he realizes, though. I’m sorry that my mother talks his ear off about me, especially since the version of me she tells people about is much more impressive than the real me. I’m sorry that he had to meet me and destroy that illusion. And I’m sorry for earlier, when all he was trying to do was be friendly and greet me politely, and I ran from him. I’m even sorry that he has to parent my sisters when it’s not his responsibility.

“It’s not a thing to be sorry about,” he cuts into my racing, brooding thoughts. “I have a couple kids of my own, and even though they’re grown now, I still brag about them to anyone who will listen.”

The ten-minute warning beeps on the kitchen timer, and I realize that it’s been twenty whole minutes since I first texted Jason. It feels like it's been way longer than that, and I can’t help glancing at my phone again, confirming that there are still no new messages.

I decide to try sending another message, this one a bit more forthcoming than the first two. I owe him that.

It was really hard for me to wake up somewhere unfamiliar and without the things I need to be comfortable. But I know you did everything you could think of to try to help me, and I’m so grateful for that.

After I send it, there’s still no response. I glare at my phone, willing it to chime for me. Just once, that’s all I’m asking for. One teeny, tiny little text to let me know everything is still okay.

Please answer me.

I send that without even meaning to. It’s like my fingers take on a mind of their own.

Then my worry turns to anger when it clicks in my head what might be going on. We just talked yesterday about what it was like for him during the years that I ignored him and tried to shut him out, and I find it suspicious that I'm suddenly getting a taste of that when he has never acted like this with me before.

If you’re trying to show me what it feels like to not have the control and obsessively worry what you might have done wrong, then you succeeded. Game over, please. Answer me like an adult, Jason, and don’t try to tell me you’re working because I know you’re not. I’m freaking out here, and this isn’t fair.

I regret that message as soon as it’s sent, though. That is, until the timer on the chicken goes off and the four of us proceed to eat an entire meal and even clean the dishes after with still no word from my mate.

Alright, fine. I suspected from the beginning that it was a bad idea to let you get close to me, and it turns out I was right. You can’t handle me. You’re a distraction and a risk I can’t really take anyway, so it’s not like there was a real future for us.

Two more minutes. Still nothing from him.

Sighing, I decide that there's really only one thing left to say.

Goodbye, Jason.

It's not a turn of events that I expected on the day after our first date, but honestly, it's a relief. Instantly after that message sends, I exhale a gust of breath that I didn't even realize I'd been holding inside, ignoring the ache settling in my chest.

This is for the best. I knew better than to get involved with him in the first place, and it will be good to get back to normal instead of constantly walking around carrying that unsettled feeling with me like I've been doing for weeks now.

“Everything okay?” Warren asks me as we’re settling in to watch a movie with the girls.

I’ve noticed him glancing my way periodically as I’ve been obsessively watching and typing on my phone, but that’s the first he’s said anything about it. But he’s still a stranger, and I don’t really feel like talking about any of this anyway. Especially not in front of my sisters.

“Fine,” I assure him. “Perfect, actually. Everything is as it should be.”

“Alright.” He doesn’t look convinced, but he drops it anyway.

I turn my phone off and stow it away in my pocket because all it’s done for me today is turn me into a basket case, and I don’t need that in my life.