Page 74 of Your Pace Or Mine

“Hey there! It’s me, Mr. Six. I usually come on here and talk about the fun dates I’ve been on, or the disastrous dates I’ve been on, or my tips for dating in the city. My number one tip is still check the weather report and plan your wardrobe accordingly.

“But anyway, today I don’t have a good story. Instead, I’m going to tell you a bad story. Because the truth is, as much as I’ve generally excelled at first dates, I’m not good at second dates. I’ve always said I don’t do relationships, that I like to keep things casual, and there are reasons for all that which I’d rather not tell the whole internet. But I’m starting to realize [pauses to clear throat] that I might have been wrong.

“Maybe closing myself off from any real relationships was a way to keep myself from disappointing other people and not what I actually wanted. I’ve been so afraid of hurting others that I closed people out and ultimately, caused them pain anyway. Unfortunately, I realized this too late, and I hurt someone that it turns out I cared about, maybe even loved.

“I don’t know if you’ve been in this place and how it worked out for you, but if you have any tips, let me know since I’m at a loss. [takes a deep breath.]

“Anyway, maybe I’ll be back to my regularly scheduled programming soon, unless I can convince this person I’m worth a second chance. We’ll see. Until then, my tip for you today is if you love someone, let them know before they walk out of your life. Take care, everyone.”

Comments:

Aw, I’m sorry man. I hope you work things out!

Typical. The player gets played and suddenly it’s a tragedy. Too bad so sad, dude.

Wait, wait, wait, did anyone see Miss Midtown’s video yesterday? Are those two an item or is this some manufactured social media drama? Either way, I’m hooked. Pass the popcorn.

TWENTY-FOUR

ASHLEY

I take a personal day from my marketing firm so I don’t have to check in with my work the day after everything hits the fan with Sebastian. I thought I was too old to need my mom, but when I show up at her doorstep, her hug brings a surge of relief and peace.

“You don’t have to tell me, but you can,” she says. All I’d said last night was that a man broke my heart and I needed to get away for a few days. She promised to start a batch of cookies in the morning and get out the stash of nineties romcoms, because of course my mom still has a DVD player. My stepdad is at work, so we curl up on the couch watching Notting Hill and eating chocolate chip cookies. I tell the gist of what happened, omitting most of the sex parts because when I allude to it, Mom covers her face with her hands. Sometimes I suspect she was relieved that I was deeply uncool in my teen years so she didn’t need to worry about me dating. When I brought boys down to the basement, it was to practice our tap routines for the school revue, not fool around.

“I always liked Sebastian, but he seemed like a lost boy,” she says in a sad tone when I’m done explaining.

“Lost boy?”

“You know, like in Peter Pan. He was scared to grow up.”

I laugh. “Mom, he’s thirty-two with a business and a condo. He’s an adult.”

She shakes her head. “Ashley, when you’re my age, you realize those things don’t make a person an adult. Plenty of people have houses and cars and kids but still act like teenagers, afraid to be vulnerable, chasing after the next thing that feels good instead of deepening what they have.”

Her words remind me of how Laurel and Cal have worked through their baggage together, dealing with each other’s quirks and flaws, and how much happier they both seem. Sebastian thought that sounded boring, but it’s been beautiful to watch my friend bloom from being known and loved like that. My heart aches for Sebastian, that he’s so afraid of what someone might find in him, he’d rather not take a chance. He tries not to be like his father, but in some ways, he’s ended up exactly like him.

“I guess you’re right, Mom.”

Mom and I spend the rest of the day hanging out. We go out for a walk in the fresh air, then make lasagna. My stepdad heads downstairs after dinner to watch baseball and let us connect.

In the evening, I check in with Laurel and Stevie to assure them I haven’t gone off the rails and had a one-night stand with a lifestyle guru or motorcycle gang member. Stevie, of course, says a motorcycle gang member would be a fun choice for a rebound as long as I don’t get arrested. I shake my head, then put my phone away to watch television with my mother.

We rarely get one-on-one time together. Last year I was here all the time because of Sam’s wedding, and usually when I’m in town there’s a holiday or a party or some reason to drive in. It’s a comfort to have this time alone with her. Even if we aren’t having deep conversations, just being together is a balm on my bruised heart.

My parents are busy the next day with a pickleball tournament they committed to weeks ago, but Mom sends my sister over to keep me company. I’m hesitant after we’ve barely connected in recent months, but Samantha envelopes me in a huge hug as soon as she enters. She insists on taking me to the nail salon where we can talk about boys while getting pedicures, like old times. I’m initially hesitant about leaving the house, but the relaxing music and aromatic herbal tea that meet us when we enter the spa make me thankful I listened to my sister.

“I don’t want to go through the whole story again, Sam.” I lean back on the massage chair, contemplating how much one of these chairs costs and whether I can fit one in the living room of my tiny apartment.

“You don’t have to. Mom told me some of it. Apparently, you had sex with Sebastian and he’s a bastard. That about it?”

“Mom told you that?”

“Well, not in so many words. She said you were spending time with him, and I inferred.” Sam laughs and almost spills her coffee. “I’m convinced Mom thinks our kids will come about through immaculate conception.”

I snicker, then close my eyes. “That’s the gist of it. I was so stupid. I know he’s not into relationships, but I thought it was different this time. He seemed different. But I got played.”

My sister won’t understand Bash’s brokenness the way my mom does. She’ll just call him an asshole, so there’s no point in going down that road.