JENNIE
Allow me to be perfectly clear—I don't like working out.
I think people who say they like working out are lying, or else they're just certifiably insane. I've tried the gym, home workouts, personal trainers and even those fancy barre classes that play fun, upbeat pop tunes. But so far none of them have been my thing.
You know what else isn't my thing? Spending nine hours tossing and turning while running through worst-case scenarios of why Lisa called me last night. I'm a worrier by nature, but after listening to her voice mail, what I experienced was a whole new level of stress. I'm talking sleepless, not even melatonin can save me now stress.
So this morning, when my favorite What's Happening in Wilmington blog directed me to this free workout class in the park, I thought I'd give physical fitness one more shot. All in the name of endorphins and sweating out every memory of Lisa Manoban so I could attempt to move on yet again.
Now, freshly sweaty from three rounds of intense intervals in the summer sun, I'm feeling a little bit better and a lot out of breath. Luckily, I still have plenty of time to head home and change before I meet Jisoo for brunch. As I head back to my car, I tap my smartwatch to get a read on how many calories I just burned to determine if I can justify pancakes and hash browns. As I do the mental math of calories burned vs calories about to be consumed, a familiar voice behind me brings my tennis shoes to a screeching halt.
"Jennie?"
Just the sound of my name in that deep, raspy voice sends a bristle up my spine, making me stand up a little straighter. I know that voice all too well. It's the same one from the voice mail, and from my daydreams and nightmares over the last ten years. And now it sends my heart rate even higher than it was during that last round of burpees.
This can't be happening. Especially not now, when I haven't washed my hair in three days, and I probably smell like a dirty gym sock.
Oh God.
I look down at my oversize T-shirt, which is sticking to me in all the wrong places. Maybe my imagination is playing dirty tricks on me. I should just ignore it and keep walking.
"Jennie, wait up."
The voice is closer now, and there's no denying it's Lisa. Here, now, and quickly approaching.
I chew my lower lip, frantically weighing my options. I could brush it off, pretend I was just stopping to tie my shoe and didn't even hear her. But one glance down at my feet reminds me that I had the foresight to go for a double knot. Shoot.
Sucking in a deep breath, I gather up whatever confidence I have and reluctantly turn around.
My heart hammers in my chest and my stomach ties itself in an intricate knot because there she is. Lalisa Manoban. All six feet, one inch of her, just a few yards away from me. In dark-washed jeans and a plain white tee, she looks every bit as unfairly pretty handsome as I expected.
What I wasn't expecting, however, is the fact that she's not alone. Her big, tanned hands grip the handles of a dark gray stroller, and as she slows to a stop in front of me, I get a peek at the precious blond-haired angel inside.
"Um, hello," I manage to squeak out, my gaze fixed on the munchkin in the stroller, who is blinking curiously at me while chewing on the foot of a G.I. Joe doll.
She's adorable but she's also making me ten times more confused about this whole situation. I've played out dozens of scenarios in my head where I run into Lisa and tell her off for what she did to me. But none of those scenarios involved a child. Crazier yet, a child who totally has her hypnotic blue eyes.
"Hello to you too," Lisa says with an easy laugh. Curse her for being so casual about this awkward as hell reunion we find ourselves in.
"What are you doing here?" I mumble, dodging her gaze as I fold my arms over my chest.
"We're on a walk. It's a public park. This is what parks are for."
I can barely conceal my eye roll. "No, I mean what are you doing in Wilmington?"
Her voice cracks slightly. "We wanted to be closer to my mom."
"Who is we?" I brace myself for her answer. Here it comes, the name of the woman who replaced me. I can already picture her—tall and thin, and far more metropolitan than I'll ever be.
"Me and this little munchkin."
Leaning over the stroller Lisa unbuckles her, and then scoops her little blond sidekick into her muscular arms. She giggles in delight as Lisa props her up on her hip, but I'm not nearly so happy about her change in location. Unless I want to look like a complete psychopath, I can't keep staring at an empty stroller. Which means I have no choice but to look Lalisa Manoban in the eye.
All right. Here goes.
Slowly, I let my gaze inch up from the stroller, passing over the fitted white T-shirt stretched tight across her muscular chest, and to her oh so fine jaw, until my gaze locks with her electric-blue eyes. It's my first real look at Lisa in over ten years, and although I hate to admit it, the woman looks good. Like, really good. Almost too good for it to be fair. Especially considering how disgusting I feel and more than likely look at the moment.
Irony is a bitch.
"Is she your . . ." I gesture between her and the giggly little girl bouncing on her hip.
"My daughter." With a big, proud smile, she presses a soft kiss into her white-blond hair before tugging at the ruffled sleeve of her tiny pink shirt. "Lauren, can you wave hi to Jennie?"
With some gentle urging, Lauren raises one chubby hand and wiggles it at me. "Hi," she squeaks, then pushes her face into her dada's shirt sleeve.
It's way cute, but I'm too shell-shocked to so much as wave back. I'm busy trying to wrap my head around the fact that she's Lalisa Manoban daughter. I know I shouldn't ask this question, but I can't help myself. I'm too curious.
"Who's her mom?" My voice is abrupt, and the second the awkward question leaves my lips, I wish I could shove it back inside. I'm curious, of course, but I don't want her to know that. I don't want her thinking I'm interested in her or her life. She can sleep with and make babies with whoever she wants. It shouldn't matter to me. Yet, it does. Deeply. And now I've just revealed that to her.
The proud look on her face falls into a more somber one. "She's not in the picture. It's a story for another time."
"Oh," I say, not exactly a witty response, but it's the best I've got.
I can't help but sneak a peek at her left hand. Sure enough, her fourth finger is bare. Could Lisa really be a single parent? I don't even know how to begin processing that information.
"Well, I've gotta get this one down for a nap," she says, breaking the uncomfortable silence as she returns little Lauren to her stroller. "But you and I should catch up. Swing by later? I just got a new espresso machine that you can help me break in." Her gaze lingers on mine and my body warms under the scrutiny of her blue eyes.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other, eyeing my car in my peripheral vision. "I have plans with Jisoo, actually. I should probably—"
"Tomorrow then," she says, voice softening. "Please?"
I draw in a long breath, holding it behind my lips as I think through my reply.
I could feed her some corny line about her being part of my past, not my present. Or I could muster up an excuse about having plans for tomorrow too. I could even just flat-out tell her no.
But I don't.
Instead, when I let out that breath I've been holding, what comes out is, "Text me your address."
She arches one thick, dark brow in my direction. "Same number as high school?"
"Same number," I say with a nod, immediately realizing my mistake. If I still have the same number, then . . .
"Then why didn't you reply to my voice mail?" She finishes my thought out loud, the tiniest hint of a smirk tugging at her lips.
"I was busy," I say quickly, my voice wavering ever so slightly.
Lisa's eyes narrow with skepticism. She's always possessed the unique ability to know when I'm lying, even when no one else can tell. It looks like that skill hasn't worn off in the last ten years.
Luckily, I'm not lying about my plans with Jisoo this afternoon. We have a twelve thirty brunch reservation, and I definitely need to go home and shower first.
Checking my smartwatch, I wince at the time. "I really have to get going. I've got a reservation to make."
She nods. "Well, it was good to see you."
"Good to, um, yeah," I stammer. But by the look in her eyes, I'm guessing she can see right through that lie too.
After a short drive consisting of me screaming into the silence in my car, and questioning if the last ten minutes of my life were some weird dream, I'm back home.
Not for long, though. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I'm back in the car in under half an hour, firing off a text to Jisoo before I hit the gas.
On my way now. I hope you're ready for some crazy news.
My phone buzzes with her reply almost immediately. No words, just about a million exclamation points. God, I love this girl.
We arrive at the restaurant at about the same time, sharing a quick hug in front of the hostess stand before we're taken to a table near the back. Thank goodness we snagged a reservation in advance. There isn't an empty table in this place.
Normally, I'd be bothered by all the noise of a crowded restaurant, but not today. Whatever it takes to drown out the enormous gasp Jisoo is going to let out when I drop this bomb on her.
The second we sit down, my best friend props her elbows on the table, leaning into full-on gossip mode. "Okay, spill. What's the big news?"
I fill her in on the details of my run-in this morning, including the fact that Lalisa Manoban is, much to my dismay, even better looking than she was in high school. And to add insult to injury, my pit stains were half the size of the state of Texas when she saw me.
"Worst timing ever." She groans, her voice brimming with sympathy. "I think you deserve extra pancakes for having to deal with that."
Before she can bury her nose too far in the menu, I hit her with the coup de grâce, the information that takes this whole Lisa thing from weird to wild.
"There's one more tiny thing," I say, pinching my fingers together to form an itty-bitty space I can barely see through. "Well, not that tiny. But small enough to still fit in a crib, if you get my gist."
Jisoo drops her menu, her brows knitting together. "What do you . . ." Before she can finish the thought, it finally clicks, and her whole face goes totally slack. "No freaking way. Are you telling me she has a kid?"
I nod. "A daughter. But there's no ring on her finger. So I think she's a single parent."
Jisoo's jaw drops as she leans back in her seat, pressing her fingers into her temples. "This is actually too much for me to handle."
"Imagine finding out the way I did. As if running into her in public wasn't enough, the guy was pushing her in a stroller. Talk about a one-two punch." I actually thought my heart was going to stop for a minute there.
"So, what's the plan?" She cracks her knuckles, a wicked smile tugging at her lips. "Do we egg her house? Or maybe we play the long game and wait till her daughter is in your class? Then you can just, like, teach her the alphabet backward or something."
I shake my head. "You're not going to believe this, but she actually asked me to come over tomorrow."
Jisoo's jaw drops. "Like, to her house? You're not even meeting up in public?"
I shrug. "She brought up her new espresso machine. How am I supposed to resist that?" I joke, hoping I don't sound as crazy as I feel right now. My emotions are all over the place.
Jisoo just shakes her head at me.
When the waitress swings by moments later, and we both place our orders for short stacks of pancakes and tall cups of coffee. Once our server disappears, though, Jisoo leans in even closer, squinting her eyes like she's trying to get a read on me.
"Be honest. You're going so you can secretly put laxatives in her coffee, though, right?"
I shake my head. "Not quite. I think I'm just going to hear her out. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get an apology."
Jisoo frowns at me, unamused. "It's ten years too late for that."
"Believe me, I know." I sigh, picking nervously at the corner of a paper napkin. "I have zero intentions of getting involved with this woman ever again. But I never got any explanation when she totally disappeared from my life. No closure whatsoever. Maybe this is what I need so I can let go of all this stupid anger and resentment and move on."
"And maybe download that dating app I keep telling you about?"
I give her a knowing look. "One step at a time, Soo."
• • •
I'm sitting in my car outside of Lalisa Manoban's house. That is definitely a sentence I never thought I would say again.
I used to drive over to her house all the time the summer after my junior year, right before she went off to college. Sometimes we'd cruise down to the beach and just talk. Other times, we never left her mom's driveway, too busy making out under the cover of darkness. Now, with her mom's house just down the street from Lisa's new place, the déjà vu is real.
I take a deep breath, trying to slow my clamoring heart. As I walk up the brick path to the front door, I realize that my knees are actually shaking a little.
Why am I so nervous? If anything, Lisa should be the nervous one. She's the one who made a major mistake all those years ago. All I have to do is keep my cool and try not to unleash ten years' worth of angry questions on her in front of her daughter because once I start ranting I don't think I'll be able to stop.
I press the doorbell, and moments later, I hear the uneven patter of Lauren's tiny feet toddling across the floor, followed by the slow, measured steps of her dada. When the front door opens, I spot Lauren first. She's got on ladybug-patterned pj's, her blond hair gathered into a teeny ponytail on the top of her head. But as cute as she is, the real view is behind her.
If I thought Lisa looked good yesterday, it's only because I hadn't seen her totally in her element yet. Sh's dressed in all black, from her joggers to her T-shirt to her baseball cap with some team logo I don't recognize.
Okay, I was so not prepared for these hot dada vibes. But if the typical dad bod is supposed to be soft, Lisa is failing at this, because her body is broad and firm, and filled out with more muscle than she ever had before.
A sweet, easy smile pulls at her lips as she runs a hand over her jaw. "Good morning. Sorry, we're a little bit slow getting started today."
"Is this still a good time?" I say, holding back what I really want to ask. Is this seriously how good you look first thing in the morning? Because, fuck me running, this is not okay.
"Of course. We've been excited to see you all morning." Squatting down to Lauren's level, Lisa lays a protective hand on her shoulder. "Do you remember Jennie from yesterday, love bug?"
Lauren blinks her bright blue eyes at me, starts to smile, then squeals and hides her face against Lisa's arm.
"She's shy around new people at first," she says as she stands and motions me inside. "C'mon. I've already got the coffee ground."
Following closely behind her, I step into a house that is shockingly put together for someone who's only lived here a few days. Sure, there are still quite a few cardboard boxes stacked in the corners, and Lauren's toys are spread all across the living room rug, but the crisp, clean design she's going for is already emerging.
I trail my fingers along the back of a pale ivory-colored couch. Bold choice for someone with a toddler. Not my circus. Not my monkeys.
"Okay, love bug, let's pick out a toy to play with while the grownups are talking."
Lauren squeals as Lisa scoops her up and carries her over to the center of the living room. "Bat."
At first, I think maybe Lauren is super into baseball or something, but then Lauren jabs one finger toward a stuffed bat that looks more like a Halloween decoration than a toy.
"Bat, it is." Lisa laughs, grabbing the bat and smirking in my direction. "My weird kid, right?"
I smile back, watching as she makes the stuffed bat flap its wings, earning giddy applause from Lauren.
It's crazy to see her like this. This big, muscular man, being so soft and gentle with her beautiful little girl. It almost makes me forget how awkward this whole situation is.
Until yesterday, I hadn't spoken to her since she broke my heart a full decade ago. Now I'm standing in her house, watching her play with her daughter, who I just found out existed. Strange doesn't even begin to cover it.
With Lauren all settled, Lisa pushes to her feet, sweeping one hand toward the kitchen. "Shall we?"
Lord, let the espresso give me strength.
