Page 18 of Learning at 40

“Oh, I’m not a decorator. I’m a teacher.”

“Even better,” River adds with a wink. “I’m a nurse. I’m sure we have stories to share.”

The reassuring smile River offers Anna puts my old friend at ease, and I could seriously kiss River for making our sad friend grin in return.

Then again, who am I kidding? I just want to kiss River, period.

7

[River]

After a barrage of questions with Zack’s friends, I now understand the dynamic. Mason, Logan, and Zack were roommates in one form or another during college. Anna and Ben were high school sweethearts, and she went to college with the boys. Mason has been living at the house, and I can only imagine his bedside manner. To his credit, I’ve learned he’s given up a year of his life to stay with them.

I hang with the friends for longer than I expected before excusing myself. Being with the group was fun but also a reminder of how alone I am. I wasn’t someone who had many friends. My grandfather would say I could make friends with a stinkbug. My mother would say I had many, but none of them were close. Nothing like this group. I haven’t broken out to make friends in the community. I’ve heard the rumors. I don’t wish to propagate them, so I keep to myself other than a yoga class and my job at the local hospital.

Later, as I’m getting ready to turn off the lower-level lights in my house and head to bed because I’m on the early shift tomorrow, I hear a knock on the sliding glass door off my kitchen. A short, sharp rap hits the glass a second time. Wandering through the dark kitchen, I glance out the window over the sink to see what it was, assuming it could have been a wayward bird or a falling twig.

Instead, Zack stands outside the double doors. His head lowered. His stance hesitant. He’s a puzzle to me. There’s no doubt I find him physically attractive. He’s not as vivacious as Mason or sweet like Logan, but there’s still something about him. He has a serious edge to him, but he also looks like he’s on the verge of snapping.

I head to the door and flip on the patio light, which causes him to look up at it first before noticing me opening the slider.

“And to what do I owe tonight’s honor?” I tease, assuming there’s no apology necessary this evening. “I kept my clothes on all day,” I proudly jest.

Zack slowly smiles and then bites his lower lip like he did last night. That smirk. It’s like a fire hydrant to my panties. He’s so damn good-looking. Those silvery eyes sparkle like his son Oliver, and I recognize a hint of mischief behind them. A hint of where the boys might get their wild streak, other than being seven-year-olds, of course.

Holding up a bottle of wine, Zack says, “I thought I’d repay the wine from last night. I even brought two glasses.” He shows me two goblets trapped between his long fingers. When I don’t move at first, Zack adds, “You called me a wine stealer last night. I want to be clear. I’ve never stolen anything in my life.” He turns serious, guarded even. “And I always repay my debts.”

His somber tone puzzles me. Taking my wineglass and drinking my wine doesn’t constitute a debt. Still, he seems eager to repay me.

“Noted,” I state. “But I have an early shift,” I tell him next, reminding him I’m a nurse. When the group asked what I did for a living, I stuck to the most basic answer.

“Just one glass.” He pouts at me, jutting out those lush lips, and I laugh. It’s the first funny expression he’s made, and it’s definitely dazzling.

“Okay.” I give him a soft smile before stepping out into the yard. I should invite him inside, but I’m afraid that might send the wrong message, and I’m still uncertain what message I want to send this man.

“Where are your boys?” I ask, closing the sliding door behind me.

“I earned the night off. They’re having a video game marathon with Anna’s son Bryce.”

We cross the lawn, and I wave a hand at the lounger. While Zack takes a seat on it, I choose to sit in one of the individual chairs near the foot instead of next to him. I don’t trust myself. Last night, we sat so intimately close, but he didn’t end up kissing me when I thought he might, and I don’t need to put myself in that kind of position if he’s only trying to be neighborly. Repaying his debt as he incorrectly thinks. Maybe he just wants a friend, and I can be one of those. Quincy had turned out to be one of my best friends.

Zack frowns as I sit, and he scoots to the end of the lounger. Hooking his foot around my chair, it doesn’t slide easily through the grass, so he cups the base of the lounger with his hand and tugs it closer to me. When he sits again, his knees bracket mine. With our legs touching, I’m trapped within the space, and it’s just as intimate as when we were rubbing arms and holding hands last night.

“You were too far away,” he offers as an explanation. The wine bottle in his hand has already been uncorked, so he easily pours two glasses. After handing one to me, he then lifts his to tap the edge of mine. Silently, I make my own toast, hoping he won’t be a disappointment. I follow his lead and drink but remain quiet.

“Tonight, I owe you gratitude,” he says.

“You don’t owe me anything,” I murmur, slowly shaking my head.

“You defended my boys today. No one ever does that.” He stares at me, firm in his statement while soft in the eyes. The tenderness and confusion in them stop my heart.

“You should be doing that,” I gently suggest. Zack should be proud of his boys, and I worry he underappreciates what he has in his healthy, rambunctious sons. He should be thankful for what he has. I’m a single woman nearing forty with no prospect in sight of having children. Not to mention, the parents I’ve worked with would give anything for their children to be a little bit wild and a tad bit reckless like his boys.

“I know.” He sighs heavily. “Like I said last night, I just don’t know how to relate to them or even where to start. I mostly worry I’m too late.”

My brows pinch at his self-deprecating words. He’s not too late. He has potential. He’s just . . . lost, but the fact he recognizes his faults and wants to improve is half the battle. Earlier today, I was able to watch him with his sons. It’s like he’s on the edge of interacting with them yet not certain how.

“You aren’t too late.” I smile to reassure him. I actually want to hug him. A smile is as good as a hug sometimes, my grandfather would say. “You just need to remember how to play.”