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“Nothing. It’s not really your fault, Marco Polo.” A slight smile appears as I use his nickname. “It’s just a different battle when you’re here. I’ll stop thinking so much once you start making me have fun.”
His smile widens. “You like me.”
“I’m not admitting that.”
He laughs. “That’s okay. I’ll get it out of you eventually.” Thankfully, he lets it go. “How was your day?”
“Just the average exciting day of a bank teller.”
“Do you think you’ll ever go back to school? What’s your passion anyway?”
“No, I don’t think I’ll ever go back.” I stop, thinking of how the last time I discussed my passion, it was with Roger. I have the sudden yearning to do what I haven’t even thought about since he died. “I...” I take a deep breath. “I loved to bake cakes and decorate them. I used to want to open my own cake shop. I haven’t even had cake in nearly six years.”
“You don’t want to do that anymore?” Marc asks quietly.
“No. I haven’t thought about it for a long time.”
“Noah and Meredith are looking forward to seeing you again.”
I laugh a little. “Why? They barely know me.”
“Exactly.”
“Why do you owe them a dinner anyway?” I ask, remembering that’s why they’re going to be there.
He shrugs. “I lost a race.” He pulls into a restaurant’s parking lot and parks. I start getting nervous as we head inside, but Marc hooks his arm around my neck, letting his forearm dangle down my chest and tucks me into his side. “It’ll be fun,” he tells me quietly before we’re greeted by the hostess. “We’re meeting the Ramsey party,” he says to her.
She nods and leads us to a booth where Noah and Meredith are already seated. Meredith still looks familiar, but I can’t figure out why. Marc motions for me to slide in first, so I do. I give them an awkward little wave. They smile.
“He hasn’t run you off yet?” Noah asks.
I laugh. “He has. The problem is he keeps chasing after me.”
Marc nudges my shoulder with his. “You can’t hurt my feelings in front of my friends.”
I try not to laugh and shrug. “Sorry.”
A waitress appears to take our drink orders and we’re thankfully silent for a little bit while we look over the menu. Marc points out things here and there that he’s tried and liked before, some things he recommends staying away from, and the one thing he loved, which was a pasta dish. He smiles a little too much when I end up ordering the pasta.
“How long have y’all known this loon?” I nod toward Marc.
“I’ve known him for a few years, but Mere only met him a few months ago.”
“What do you do?” I ask Meredith.
“I’m an assistant tennis coach at a local high school, and I recently retired from playing tennis professionally.”
My eyes widen. “Oh my god, you’re Meredith Quick! That’s why you’ve looked familiar. I loved playing tennis in high school and was going to play in college, but never did. I followed your career. I can’t believe I didn’t realize you were you!” Damn. I’ve been sitting with tennis royalty and didn’t even know it! She dropped off the face of the earth after her injury and breakup with Vance Powers, who I’ve always thought was a prick and I’ve never met him.
“It’s okay,” Meredith laughs a little.
“How did you meet Noah?”
“They’re high school sweethearts,” Marc answers for her.
Those words unexpectedly hit me hard. I loathe the moments when grief decides to attack me in such innocent ways. Roger and I were high school sweethearts. My mind is thrown back in time to prom night for some reason. Roger was so handsome in his suit. He loved me in green, so my dress was green. Most high school boys were full of self-confidence or awkwardness on the dance floor. Roger, he just held me close for the slow songs and watched me from the sidelines while I danced with my friends on the faster paced songs.
That was the night, as we swayed to the music, that he told me his plan for us. How he wanted to get married before we started college, how he wanted us to find an apartment of our own, and how we were going to spend our life together. He told me every detail and how he was going to make it happen.
