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“Good to see you, Truman,” she says as she and Eric head off toward the parking lot.
I consider telling Julie goodbye. Walking away just to see what she would do. But I’m an adult. I don’t want to play games. I want this woman back in my life.
“Do you wanna get dinner with me?” I tip my head and hold my breath waiting for her to answer.
She studies my face for a few seconds and finally nods.
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
17
Julie
Truman surprises me when he suggests we grab sandwiches and go to the park. But I like the idea—after what happened at my house the last time I saw him, I don’t trust myself to be alone with him. In the park, we may not be surrounded by people, but we don’t have total privacy, either. Not that I plan on jumping him, but even that one kiss was dangerous.
And addictive.
We sit on opposite sides of a picnic table out under a tree. There’s no one in the shelter house behind us, but it just feels nice to be out in the open. It’s hot, but a gentle breeze keeps it from being sticky.
“Remember playing Frisbee golf with Kent and Leanne?”
Our eyes meet as he asks. I have a mouthful, so I can only nod and smile. Kent was Truman’s roommate in college, and Leanne was his girlfriend. We used to hang out with them a lot. The last I heard Kent was working on an oil rig somewhere, and Leanne had moved to British Columbia.
“I put every throw in the trees,” I say when I finally swallow.
“Even when we were on an open fairway, you managed to find trees.”
His grin is a knife in my heart.
Why wasn’t I enough for him? I mean, when he first told me he didn’t want the baby, I thought it was because he didn’t want to be tied down with the responsibility of a baby. But he eventually came around. Started spending time with Ryle. He traveled a lot even then, but when he was home, he wanted to be with Ryle.
But he never fought to get me back.
“You should take Ryle out to play.”
Truman wolfs down another bite of his sub and nods as he chews. “That’s a good idea.”
“He’d love it.”
Truman swallows and looks down at his sandwich. He looks like he’s hung up on some deep, heavy thoughts.
“Maybe the three of us could go,” he suggests, careful not to meet my eyes.
I open my mouth to say no. To tell him it’s not a good idea. But when he looks up at me, I clamp my teeth together and look away.
“You know.” I take a sip of my tea and watch a squirrel climb the tree we’re under. “When…when you didn’t want Ryle…”
I feel a pang of guilt when I hear his soft groan.
“Jules.”
“I worried…” I clear my throat and peek at him, but I look away quickly. Eyes on the flaking green paint on the table, I keep going. “Worried you would be like my dad.”
He’s watching me with glassy eyes when I look up at him.
“That you would just…pretend like he didn’t exist.”
“Julie—”
