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“So are you.”
We continue our blissful existence of dating, and it’s so effortless. Technically, things are still in early stages for us, but I can see a future for us. I care about her, and anytime we disagree, it’s minor. Mostly we tease one another, and if things grow a little too tense, we apologize and enjoy some make-up sex.
Gradually, I quit being afraid of losing her because from the get-go, we’ve figured out how to get past any misunderstandings. We actually started off on the wrong foot and the odds were against us even being friends. When I remember this little detail, I’m not uneasy if we disagree.
It’s a solid foundation we’re building, and just because I suck at marriage doesn’t mean things won’t work out for us. There’s no law saying we have to take any vows, anyway. And she gives me hope that even if we do stroll down the aisle, we won’t become some mournful statistic.
She’s dispelled all my dark clouds, and I feel more optimistic than ever before. It happened fast, but I’m okay with it. Mimi and I had a fairly long courtship and it turned out that our marriage didn’t survive. So I’m all in for knowing when something is right or not early in the game.
So as the saying goes…when you know, you know.
Seven
Amanda
As I bake a lemon cake for Sam—his favorite—as a surprise, I hum to myself. I’ve never been much of a musical person, and I can’t carry a tune to save my life. Yet, this celebration feels like a momentous milestone. Also, tonight’s the night.
I’m going to say the three little words I’ve never declared to anyone else.
It’s time, and I think he’s ready to hear them.
Baking isn’t my forte, but I’ve done okay with this simple cake mix from the grocery store. I guess anyone can stick something in the oven and have it come out nicely as long as they follow the directions.
I let it cool, and I’m in the process of icing it when my phone rings. Finishing up, I wash the yellow frosting off my hands then peek at my screen. The missed call is from Debbie, one of my teammates at our college alma mater. Unlike me, Debbie didn’t try out for the WNBA, choosing to seek her fortune in administrative work. Last I heard, she had a job somewhere out west.
I wonder what she wants and dial her number. If nothing else, it’ll be good to catch up. She answers on the first ring.
“Amanda.” She speaks so vociferously that I hurry to bring the speaker volume down on my phone. “What are you doing?”
That’s Debbie for you. She’s not one for small talk.
“Icing a cake for my boyfriend, actually.”
“How sweet.” She gives a noisy honk of laughter. “Literally. I heard you moved to Georgia. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I have a position for you, then, and I think you should take it.”
A position?
“Could you say that again?” Maybe I misheard her. I’m only halfway through my master’s coursework.
“I’m a recruiter now for Division One women’s basketball. I went back to UConn, then did a year at Ohio State, and now I’m in Georgia, too.”
“You’ve been busy,” I remark.
“You’ve been busier. I’ve been paying attention. The European league. And now you’re teaching at a high school in some little town I’ve never heard of?”
“Oak Valley,” I provide.
“Yeah. There. But what if I could put you at Georgia Tech as a women’s basketball coach? It’d be as an assistant to start out with, but you’re getting your master’s, right?”
Damn, how does she know all this? “Um, that’s right.”
She laughs. “Hey, I don’t mean to sound like I’ve been stalking you, but I’ve kept up. You’re not completely off the grid even if you thought you were.”
I relax a bit. “So I guess we still talk to some of the same people. It’s nice to stay connected a little.”
