TWELVE

Stepping out of his car, Patrick buttoned the two buttons on his suit jacket, pocketed his keys, and then walked hurriedly across the parking lot to get out of the way of a passing car. Inside the hotel lobby, he spotted the sign informing him that his office holiday party was in Ballrooms B & C and he followed the appropriate signage to reach the small atrium outside the ballrooms where large coatracks had been set. As he wanted to keep his jacket, he walked past them and over to a young woman who appeared to be manning a table containing everyone's nametags. Only a handful of nametags remained so he was able to snag his easily before thanking the girl.

"Oh my," he said to himself as he stepped into the ballroom, which had been decorated with many inflatable lawn ornaments and plenty of silver and gold accents. He found the bar nestled between Frosty the Snowman and trio of red, green, and gold wrapped presents. After grabbing himself a beer, he made his way along the outskirts of the room, feeling wildly out of place.

Patrick had never been one for very large social gatherings. Small groups he was fine with, but once the numbers crept into the double digits he found himself enjoying them less and less, and events like that one, with several hundred people, generally made him immensely uncomfortable. He never found himself very good at mingling, especially when attending solo. He'd skipped the previous year's party and had only gone that night in hopes of seeing Shelagh. She had asked him two days prior if he was going and, when he said yes, she smiled and said she hoped to see him there. Patrick was not going to leave such a desire up to chance; he had every intention of seeking her out and spending as much time with her as she would allow.

After momentarily distracting himself with a few appetizers, he set out in earnest on his search for his friend. He was interrupted a few times by colleagues greeting him and introducing him to their significant others. He greeted them politely but tried to keep the interactions brief.

Finally, on his third lap around the ballroom, he spotted her sitting at a table with a few other women. He tried to make his way to her directly but was unable due to large groups of chatting people blocking his way. He weaved his way around tables with chairs sticking out and groups of partygoers laughing too loudly to hear his polite, "excuse me." When he was just twenty feet from her, he saw her pick up her phone, glance down at the screen, and her expression immediately changed into one of distress. She picked up her purse and the phone and began to make her way out of the ballroom. Concerned something might be seriously wrong, he decided to follow her.

After another minute of weaving through the crowded area, Patrick reached the hallway just outside the ballroom. His eyes scanned the area, trying to determine where Shelagh went as there weren't many people in sight. He briefly wondered if she went into the women's bathroom, but then he saw her, just barely visible on the other side of the coatrack, which was nearly equal to her five-foot height.

He walked steadily towards her, only noticing that she appeared to be texting frantically when he got closer.

"No, no that's not it," he heard her mutter, the distress on her face evident.

"Shelagh?" he said carefully. Despite his best efforts, he still startled her.

"Wha—oh hello Patrick." Her gaze became marginally less wild when it fell on him. "When did you get here?"

Side stepping her question to address his concern, he asked, "Is everything ok?"

"Oh, yes, I'm…" her voice drifted off as she glanced down at her phone. "Well, I suppose I'm a bit upset."

"Can I help?"

With a guilty look on her face, she gestured towards him with the phone. "I was chatting with someone on the dating app again. I know you said I should take a break, and I did, but…well, last night my roommates convinced me to let them see some of my matches and this guy came up. He was sort of cute and his profile picture was of him with a pretty blue-eyed cat so I—well, they, convinced me to message him. We actually had a fairly nice conversation for about an hour. Then, we picked it up again this afternoon. He asked me to meet him tonight, but I told him it was too soon and…and now he's called me a bitch for teasing him."

"Block him!" Patrick growled.

Distress entered her expression again as she gazed down at the phone, "But I don't want him thinking-"

"Shelagh," he began gently, reaching out his hand to cover up her phone. When she looked up at him, he continued, "A wanker like that is not worth your time."

She blinked. "What's a wanker?"

"Someone who doesn't deserve you." He explained simply. Then, he reached out his left hand, curled it around her shoulder, and pulled her towards him. "Come here."

She fell against his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and tucking her head beneath his chin. She held on for a few seconds and then pulled back with a determined expression. "I'm going to block him and then set my profile to private again."

As he watched her index finger tap at various places on her phone screen, Patrick felt his chest tighten as a realization washed over him. Suddenly, he understood why he felt so unsettled all those times he knew she was on a date or chatting with men through the dating app. Yes, it was partly genuine concern for her having a bad experience but mostly it was jealousy—simple jealousy. He wanted her for himself, not just so that she wouldn't be sad or distraught, but so he could be the one bringing her joy and it was finally time he did something about it.

"What…what if you actually just delete the app all together?"

She glanced up at him with a wrinkled brow. "You mean, try meeting someone in person? I…I don't think I'd very good at meeting men in bars like Trixie; I'm too shy."

His heart rate picking up speed, he continued with, "What if you didn't need to do that either because you already had a boyfriend?"

Her expression turned into one of general befuddlement. "What? Who would that be?"

"Well…me." He swallowed hard as he watched her eyes briefly widen.

"You?" she asked, her voice barely audible above the sound of the music from the party filtering into the hallway.

He smiled at her and prepared to confess all the things he'd be hiding from her—and himself. "Yes, me. The truth of it is the only reason I came here tonight was to see you. I think about you a lot…all the time, really. I've never texted someone so much in my life!" He let out a breathy laugh and then gave a tiny shrug. "I think I've just been afraid of how much I like you."

"Why?"

"Well, I haven't actually been anyone's boyfriend since Marianne. I'm…a bit out of practice." As was evident by his hammering heart and clammy palms. He was thirty-three for Christ's sake! He didn't need to turn into a stammering fool…but he supposed forgetting how to properly speak around those one had romantic notions towards was rather timeless.

"You want to be my first boyfriend?" she asked, her tone indicating a small amount of disbelief.

He nodded. "Very much."

She continued to stare at him for an agonizing three seconds before a smile began to blossom on her face and she nodded her head.

Feeling himself instantly grow several inches taller, he asked, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she echoed, half-laughing out the word.

Without waiting another second, he reached his left hand out to cradle her jaw and used it to draw her in for a kiss. She pulled back, blushing slightly, which he found positively adorable, so he simply had to kiss her one more time before pulling her in for another hug. That time, they held each other for a full minute before separating and sharing a light laugh.

"Do you want to go back to the party?"

She glanced cautiously toward the ballroom and then back to him. "No, I'm not ready for our coworkers to see us kissing."

He smirked momentarily, glad that kissing him was on her mind, but then clarified his intentions. "We don't have to kiss. We could…dance. Sit. Eat."

At the last suggestion, her interest piqued. "Well…I haven't seen the desserts yet."

He laughed and reached for her hand. "Then we'd better go see what they have to offer."

For the next hour they navigated the party together, eating, chatting, and even sharing one dance, until Shelagh told him she was ready to go. He had no desire to stay, so he followed her into the hall, waited for her to find her coat, and then took her hand as they walked back towards the hotel lobby to exit.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Oh, ah, nothing in particular. Grocery shopping in the morning, but I have no other plans."

"Come for dinner," he requested.

She countered his offer with, "I'll make dinner."

"You don't have to. We can have something delivered."

She gave his hand a squeeze. "But I like making dinner. I'll bring everything and see you around four-thirty?"

He grinned, "I can't wait." They walked the rest of the way into the lobby where he could see it was raining thanks to the exterior lights on the hotel that lit up most of the parking lot. "Oh, it looks like the rain started early," he commented, recalling the forecast that predicted rain would start around midnight, which was several hours away.

"Oh well," she said casually.

As they approached the lobby doors, he held out his hand and said, "Give me your keys; I'll go get your car so you don't get wet."

She laughed off his attempt at chivalry. "No, it's fine. It's just a little rain." She gave his hand one last squeeze before saying, "I'll see you tomorrow, Patrick," and hurrying out into the parking lot towards her car. Patrick followed, though at a slower pace, and despite his hair being rather wet by the time he reached his car, he didn't mind, because Shelagh was his girlfriend and that meant there was absolutely nothing wrong with his world—nothing at all.

Promptly at four-thirty on Sunday afternoon, Shelagh arrived at the Turner house. She parked in the driveway, as she had been doing since getting her new car. Though it was extraordinarily unlikely her car would be hit by another drunk driver while on the street in front of the house, Patrick insisted she start parking in the driveway, and she certainly wasn't going to argue with him about it.

After grabbing her purse and grocery bag from the back seat, she walked up to the front door, which opened almost immediately. Evidently, Tim had been waiting for her.

"Hi Shelagh!" he chirped.

"Hello Timothy. How are you?"

"Dad let me play in the mud this morning!"

She laughed at his excitement. "How fun."

"Boys will be boys," Patrick commented as he approached from down the hall. "Here let me help you."

"Oh, it's not that heavy," she assured him, brushing off his attempt to take her shopping bag. She toed off her shoes, made sure the door was shut behind her, and then went directly to the kitchen to unload the groceries. She had barely put the bag down on the kitchen counter when she felt Patrick's hand in the center of her back. She turned around just in time to realize he was leaning in to kiss her. She was a bit surprised by the act and, as a result, she thought the kiss to be a bit awkward, but Patrick didn't seem to mind. He grinned at her in a rather dopey way as his hands bracketed her waist.

"Hello."

"Hello."

"I made a bit of a fool of myself today."

"Playing in the mud with Timothy?" she asked.

He chuckled. "No. Spending nearly the whole day agonizing over if I should text you or what I might say. I didn't want to overwhelm you, but I really wanted to talk to you even though I knew we'd see each other later. I'm starting to feel like this is my first relationship again," he added with a laugh.

She rested her hands against his biceps, unable to stop herself from smiling in the reflection of his laughter, but her chest did constrict with the anxiety of needing to have a very serious conversation before they moved too much further into their relationship.

When Shelagh woke up that morning and the full realization of everything that happened the night before washed over her, she'd felt undeniably happy. I have a boyfriend; Patrick is my boyfriend, echoed through her mind as she drank her morning tea, walked through the grocery store aisles, and changed the sheets on her bed. Only once the initial high began to fade did she remember the reason she had originally discounted Patrick as someone she could be in a relationship with. Months earlier, during their practice dates, he'd told her that he didn't have girlfriends and only dated casually. During their conversation the night before, he had been the one to use the word boyfriend, which meant it was possible he thought of them as exclusive, but she knew she needed to clarify before they progressed any further.

"Patrick," she began cautiously. Immediately, the grin dropped from his face.

"What? You haven't changed your mind, have you?"

"I'm just…concerned. When we first started our practice dates you said you didn't have long-term girlfriends and you only dated casually, but…I don't think that I can be in a casual relationship. I want to be exclusive."

She felt his hands slide down towards her hips as he insisted, "We are. I promise you. I haven't been with anyone since…March—before Tim's mother died."

She wrinkled her brow, as she knew that statement to be untrue. "But you went on a date this summer—I babysat for you."

He took a step back from her and nodded his head. "Ok, yes, I have gone to dinner with a woman two or three times since then, but I don't think I even kissed any of them. I haven't slept with anyone since March. I've been too busy with Tim and then…too besotted over you."

She felt some heat creep into her cheeks as the adoration had returned to his gaze. "Besotted…that's not a term you hear much."

"My mother used to say it. Shelagh," he reached out to take her hand and cradle it against his chest, "I know you. I know what you're looking for and I promise I will be the boyfriend you expect. Just give me a chance."

She nodded. "Of course." She absolutely wanted to give him that chance, because being with him had always felt so easy and natural, even for someone like her, who had never had any sort of friendship with a man before. She supposed it was actually advantageous that they had some practice dates and become friends before actually entering into a relationship. Trixie and Jenny had warned her that men she met on dating apps might lie to her, telling her what she wanted to hear so that she would sleep with them, but she didn't need to worry about that with Patrick. She knew him just as well as he knew her.

Relief entering his expression, Patrick leaned down to kiss her again. That time, she was able to anticipate the move and so their kiss ended up being very sweet. She hugged him briefly after and, in doing so, caught sight of Timothy walking through the living room, which reminded her of the next subject she wanted to bring up with Patrick.

"Are we going to tell Timothy that we are boyfriend-and-girlfriend now?"

"Well, yes. He's going to notice us kissing," Patrick pointed out.

"I just…never thought about dating someone with a child or how that would work," she confessed.

Patrick shrugged, indicating he wasn't overly concerned. "His mother had a boyfriend when she died so he understands as much as he can at his age. To be honest, I worried about how I would introduce a girlfriend to him and when the right time would be. I didn't want to introduce him to someone too soon in case things wouldn't work out between us and of course I never wanted him to feel uncomfortable. Luckily," he continued, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him, "I don't have to worry about any of that with you."

"Well, there's certainly little chance of him being uncomfortable; I'm pretty sure he already likes me."

Patrick hummed. "That makes two of us." He brushed his lips against her hairline and then let her go so she could start preparing their dinner, which was going to be a cheesy broccoli casserole with some chicken tenders on the side. Over the prior six months of babysitting Tim, she'd come to learn that he would eat green vegetables—as long as enough cheese was involved.

She was halfway through chopping up the broccoli when Tim came into the kitchen and hugged her around the hips. She quickly put down the knife and reached over to pat his back as he squeezed her. Then he looked up and said, "I'm glad you're my dad's girlfriend," before running off.

Shelagh felt a wave of emotion go through her at Timothy's kind sentiments. As they spent a fair amount of time together over the prior months, she knew he still felt sad sometimes about his mother being gone. Those waves of sadness tended to be worse just after he visited his grandparents, which was understandable. Since at the time she thought Patrick did not want a girlfriend, she hadn't given much thought to Tim having a new mother or maternal figure, but he was still so young it made sense that it would be something he craved. She realized then that she would become that maternal figure for him, and though it wasn't something she was immediately opposed to, it certainly added another layer of complexity to their relationship that she hadn't thought of before.

After a rather uneventful dinner, Patrick insisted that Shelagh leave the dishes for him to do after she left since she'd been generous in making their meal. She agreed—though not before putting the casserole dish in the sink to soak so it was easier for him to clean up. She sat on the floor for a few minutes playing with Timothy's Legos before Patrick interrupted and asked her to come into his office so he could show her something.

She followed him and didn't question the invitation until he quickly shut the office door behind them once they stepped inside. Her brow wrinkled and she asked, "What are you going to show me?"

"Oh, nothing. I just didn't want to kiss you like this in front of Tim," he said before stepping forward and bringing his lips down to hers. His hands roamed her back, and he kissed her with an intensity Shelagh had not yet experienced. Though it was rather exciting at first, she quickly began to feel overwhelmed as she wasn't quite sure how to kiss him back with the same intensity and still be able to breathe easily.

She pressed her hand gently on his chest and pulled back with, "Wait please."

"Too much?"

She nodded and tugged at the cuffs of her sweater sleeves as she confessed, "I guess I'm just not sure how to kiss like that. I'm sorry."

Patrick gave her a kind smile. "There's no need to apologize; I understand this is new for you. We'll just have to use our first date to do some practice kissing."

"First date?" she asked, brushing her fingers against the collar of his shirt. "And when will that be?"

"This week."

"But it's Thanksgiving week."

"Oh, do you have plans?"

"No, I assumed you did."

He laughed. "Oh. Well…we're going to Marianne's parent's house on Thursday for supper. I thought it would be good since it's their first Thanksgiving without her."

"Of course," she nodded, struggling to imagine how difficult the winter holidays would be for her parents—and Timothy.

"Do you work Friday?"

"Yes."

He thought for a moment then said, "Oh! How about Wednesday night? I assume you're not going out."

Her brow wrinkled. "Why would I go out on a Wednesday?" Not that she "went out" much at all, but certainly not in the middle of the week.

"You know…The night before Thanksgiving."

"What about it?"

He gave her a strange look for a moment, almost surprised she didn't already understand what he was trying to say, but then he explained, "It's the biggest drinking night of the year save New Years Eve and the day of the Super Bowl."

Shelagh, who had never heard anything like that before, felt baffled. "It…is? Why?"

"Everyone is very thankful for alcohol." She laughed at what she assumed to be a joke and then let out a happy little sigh at the lovely feeling of his hands skimming down her spine. "Come over Wednesday after Tim is in bed, and we'll practice kissing."

"Just kissing?" she asked, wondering how long that practice might go on for. She imagined her lips might get sore after a while…

"Well, we might chat a bit too."

With a breathy laugh she agreed, "Okay. That'll be our first date."

He hummed as he pulled her just a little closer to him. "I can't wait."