He smiled. And now I see him twice a week at the coffee cart. He even remembered my order and got me my drink yesterday.”
“He’s trying to court you.”
“I don’t want to be courted.”
My knee-jerk reaction is to ask her if it would be that bad? Why she won’t take a chance on him and at least learn if he’s worth taking the risk? But then I think of her dad and how Rose has refused to date for the past three years, and know without asking that her fear of abandonment isn’t something that is going to resolve itself overnight and likely needs resolution with her dad first.
“We’re going to be leaving soon. Do you want me to stop and pick up something for dinner? Are you hungry?”
“I was actually calling to see if you guys want to go out tonight? Lacy and Chantay are hosting. I’m getting ready to go over and help them set up.”
“I’m not really in the mood, but I can ask Arlo if he wants to meet you there.”
“If you change your mind, just text me.”
“I will. Be safe and have fun.”
When I hang up, Arlo is beside me. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, that was just Rose. She invited you to a party if you’re up for it.”
“Not you?”
“I’m going to pass tonight. I’m not in the mood for loud noise and craziness, but you’re welcome to go. A ton of people always show up.”
“That’s okay. I’ll pass, too. After all the walking today, my knee’s kind of beat.”
I glance at his jeans, guilt hitting me like a target. “Yeah, of course. Why don’t we get going? You should probably ice and elevate it.”
Arlo grins, it’s lazy and gentle and borderline cocky—a favorite of mine if I’m being honest. “It’s not that bad. I just don’t think being on it for a few more hours is going to help.”
I turn my attention back to the sign showing the different views through the seasons because I’m pretty sure I’m smiling.
“So, your mom was a chef, and you don’t cook at all?” Arlo asks, his hands filled with pizza and Chinese takeout because I couldn’t decide between lo mein and pizza when he posed the option. When I told him to choose, I thought he was entering directions, but it turned out he was ordering a pizza, which we picked up after getting Chinese food. I open the door to the apartment as I shake my head. “I don’t cook.”
“At all?”
Juliet races into the room, her tail up as she blinks from her nap. “Hi, Jules. Does cereal count?” I scratch the underside of her chin.
“If you were five, it might.”
“Do you cook?” I ask.
“Some.”
“Liar.”
He grins. “I can make a mean spaghetti.”
“Opening a jar doesn’t count.”
“I also make the best deli sandwich in the state.” He sets the food on the kitchen table.
“We should get you a key, so you aren’t locked out,” I say, moving to wash my hands before getting plates and forks and napkins that I set on the table before feeding Juliet, so she doesn’t beg us for food.
“You guys don’t need to worry about that.”
“Want to eat on the hide-a-bed so that you can elevate your knee?”
“Only if you tell me how you're from Texas, and you don’t know anything about football.” This fact slid into conversation after we picked up the pizza, and he made a reference that went straight over my head.
He waits for me to start filling my plate before following suit. It’s a habit of his I’ve noticed and like too much. I’m a sucker for manners.
“You expect me to cook and know football?” I ask.
He laughs. “Not expect, just curious how you avoided learning anything about either one.”
“I know how to cook. I just don’t do it anymore,” I admit as we sit down. “My mom and I used to cook together, and now it just makes me think of her.”
Arlo places a hand on my shoulder. “Remembering her isn’t a bad thing, regardless of what happens with Ellen.”
I nod. “It just hurts.”
He nods. “There’s no rush.”
I nod again, appreciating the words and hating them all at once. Rose is so worried about time that she feels like she has to rush, so she doesn’t miss anything, fearing she might meet the same fate as her mom, while I drag my feet, hoping to keep everything the same for as long as possible.
“And football? You’re from Texas. I thought football was like a religion down there? You know