Truly, Madly, Like Me - Jo Watson Page 0,113

like this. And I’m glad it’s you who knows.”

“Really?” I perked up. “Even though I signed my name and have you tattooed on my back?” I blushed and covered my face. “Wow, you have no idea how embarrassing that sounds right now.”

His smile changed now. There was something else behind that small curve his lips were making. And, honestly, it kind of thrilled me.

“I’m not going to lie, when I saw that tattoo I kind of freaked out.”

“That night when we were . . .?” I didn’t finish that sentence.

“Yeah. That night.” His voice sounded soft and whispery now.

“That one,” I replied, equally breathy. “Did you think I knew who you were and had stalked you here?”

He let out a chuckle. “Did you?”

“No.” I shook my head.

“I didn’t know what to think when I saw it, so I just . . . ran.”

“That you did.” I laced my fingers together. “That you did.” I wanted to lean in and ask him if I kissed him this time, would he run again? But didn’t.

“And you?” he asked after a few more moments of awkward silence, in which I’m sure both of us were thinking about that other night. Well, I was, anyway.

“What about me?”

“I’ve told you my entire family life story, what about you?”

“My family life story?” I asked, feeling uncomfortable now.

“Please,” he said.

“Um . . . okay.” I hesitated, not sure where to begin really. And then I took a deep breath and told him. “Well, my mother is on her fifth marriage, Dan the dentist is the latest love of her life.”

Mark reclined in his seat and nodded; he looked like he’d settled in for the reading of a book, so I continued.

“So I had four stepdads growing up, none of them were horrible or terrible, but I guess none of them were . . . Dad. Not that I would know what a dad is, I’ve never known mine. He left when I was a toddler.”

“Sorry. You said that,” Mark said softly.

I shrugged. “Some of my stepdads really tried. Especially Ed the electrician.”

Mark smiled. “Do you always do that with them? Dan the dentist. Ed the electrician?”

I smiled back at him and gave a small chuckle. “I can’t help it if they deliberately went into careers that started with the same letter of their first names.”

“I bet you can’t do that with all of them?” he challenged playfully.

I thought about it for a while. “Well, there was Gareth the garage owner. That was my sister’s real dad. He and my mom were married for about five years. I used to think he was my dad too until I overheard some mothers talking.”

“You have a sister?” He uncrossed his legs and moved closer to me.

I nodded. “I do and she’s . . .” A lump formed in my throat. “Perfect,” I whispered softly.

“Where’s she now?”

“Married to her high-school sweetheart and living in a really pretty house with roses and jasmine that grows along the white picket fence. She’s the together one . . . I’m not, apparently. I’m the messed up one.”

Mark smiled at that. “Apparently I was ‘the wild one.’ All these labels . . . Besides what’s ‘the together one’?”

“You know, the one that has it all figured out. The one who can’t do any wrong, the favorite one.”

Mark shrugged at this. “Sometimes people look like they have everything figured out, but they don’t.”

I shook my head. “Trust me, she does. She’s always pointing out how figured out she is versus me. She’s always telling me that I need to get a real job, or a real boyfriend or do something real with my life, as if everything in my life is fake or something.” I rolled my eyes and looked over at Mark, but he wasn’t responding the way I wanted him to. He looked at me pointedly and then leaned back in his chair. I leaned back too, deep in thought, thinking about my sister’s words over the years.

“We kind of had a fight about it, just before I came here,” I heard myself say to him.

“Does she know where you are?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Nah, but I doubt she’ll miss me. Or even notice I’m gone. Neither will my mom, she’s cruising the world with Dan the dentist and having the time of her life.” I forced a smile. My mother had worked so hard when we were kids, we’d barely seen her, and when she’d retired I’d thought that maybe we