15
The First Meeting
Anton – Five Years Ago
Istare down at my phone, where an ill-fated text message glares up at me.
Mother
I’m at your house, if you can even call it that. Where are you?
I swallow and turn to the side on my beach towel. Rose’s profile comes into view. She’s got her eyes closed and her face turned up to the sun. The waves of the Gulf crash into the shore, creating a giant sound machine. We’re on our own swatch of beach, and it feels like God made this day just for me. The water. The sunshine. The warm Gulf-front breeze kicking up Rose’s choppy hair, tossing strands against her cheeks. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes easily.
Her.
It’s been three months since I ran into her at the bar—well, since Del ran into her. But that’s a technicality. It’s been the best three months of my life. I read somewhere that, in relationships, you should know if you want to be with a person after three months. It’s enough time to get the necessary information about your partner to make an informed decision about next steps. Plow ahead or break it off.
What do I know after three months with Rose?
Everything I need to know. She’s smart and quick-witted. She works hard and is humble. She’s always looking out for those around her.
The other week, I was waiting to surprise her after her cheer practice. She came out of the building with a woman around our age. The two talked for another ten minutes. The other woman was crying, and their conversation ended with a hug. When I asked Rose about it later, she said one of her teammates was struggling through dental school, and since she wasn’t from the area, she was having a hard time finding enough people to serve as her patients. Apparently, they had to find their own patients who were willing to be their test subjects, for lack of a better word.
“She’s afraid she’s not going to have enough clinical hours to pass the class,” Rose had told me. “I tried to rally some of the other girls on the team, but they aren’t too excited about having a novice tinkering with their mouths.” She’d scoffed, and I could tell she hated the vanity on display. “I’m going in for a cleaning. Know anyone who needs a root canal?”
She proceeded to recruit half my teammates, several of her neighbors, and a couple of random people off the street. We had her friend’s schedule filled in less than three days. She didn’t have to do that. She could have stayed in her own little world, her own little bubble. But she saw something she could help with, and she helped.
I love her for that.
I loveher. I haven’t told her yet. But I do. And I can’t wait to see what happens next.
I glance back at my phone, which is burning up in my hand. I think it’s because of the scorching Alabama sunshine, but it also could be from the sudden pressure cooker I’m about to ask Rose to step into.
I glance back in her direction, and she’s swiveled her head so she’s staring at me.
“What’s going on?” She tents her eyes with her hand, shading her face. “You look like you sat on a pinecone.”
“Gee, thanks.” I snort before turning serious again. “It’s nothing major. Totally not a big deal at all. Nothing to be concerned about. Truly. I just have a slight favor. A bit of news.”
Rose scooches up on her elbow so she’s facing me fully. The muscles in her arms flex, and her abs are on full display in the two-piece, athletic-looking swimsuit she wears. I keep my focus on her face because as much as I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless, letting the ocean waves drown out the reality of my life, I can’t do that. She’s waiting for me to continue, and she grabs the football we were throwing back and forth earlier and tosses it to me. “Tell me, Bates.”
I catch the ball with one hand. “I don’t want you to freak out.”
She rolls her eyes. “All of this”—she motions her hands in a circle in my direction—“is making me freak out. Just say it.”
“My mother is in town.” I sigh. “She’s at my house. Right now.”
“Your mother.” She blinks slowly. “As in the queen of Penwick?”
I nod and grimace.
“Is at your house?” She flicks her gaze over my shoulder. “As in the house that’s right up the beach?”
“I wasn’t expecting her. I had no clue she was going to be in the States, or I swear I would have prepped you more. I feel terrible springing her on you like this.” I drag a hand through my hair, rising up to a seated position. “Are you okay meeting her?”
Rose sits and crosses her legs so she’s facing me. “I mean, she’s a queen, so I’m intimidated, not gonna lie. But you really want me to meet her?” she asks.
There’s no hesitation in her voice. That’s my girl. Never one to back down from a fight—or in this case, meeting my mother. But she sounds almost surprised that I would want to introduce her to my mom.
