Leaving Normal Stef Holm (classic literature books TXT) 📖

She exhaled. "A very nice retired man."

"That's it?"

"That's all there is for now."

"Okay." He decided to let it go. For whatever reasons, his mom was keeping this one under wraps. She'd dated in the past but nothing had gone anywhere. Maybe this time she'd found someone special and wasn't ready to talk about it until she was sure he'd be in her life for a while.

"Just don't go too fast," he cautioned, giving her a grin and a dose of her own advice.

She frowned. "What goes for me is different for you because I'm older and have more experience."

He didn't agree with that rationale but let her continue.

"If you seriously involve yourself with someone too soon after Kim, you might get hurt. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"If I do, I do. Life has no guarantees."

"I know that." A wistful look came over her face and lit into her eyes as if she was thinking she wanted a guarantee.

He thought about the possibilities of getting hurt if he got too close to Natalie. A part of him said not to get attached to her in any kind of way, to get out there, enjoy his freedom being single again. But going to nightclubs or bars and doing bachelor stuff had never been something he was into. Meeting new women on the weekend or having sex just for the night wasn't what he was all about.

The last year of his marriage he had lived a lie. He was sick of it. So a larger part of him wanted to explore something with Natalie. A woman who intrigued him, fascinated, made him want to get to know her better.

Maybe he wouldn't like everything he saw, maybe it wouldn't work out. But he was willing to invest the time to find out.

There was a note on Natalie's garage door when she got home at one in the morning.

She had just punched the opener to lift the door when she noticed a paper on the panel. She hit the button again to make the door come back down. Getting out of her car, she pulled the note off, went back into her car and hit the interior light.

If you aren't too tired, come over whenever you get home. I'll be up. Tony

Natalie gazed at the handwriting once more, noticed it slanted in a bold way, then she pulled into the garage.

Entering her house, she had every intention of ignoring the note, of not going over there. But each time she walked through the kitchen, she stared at the words Tony had written.

Conviction began to melt.

She was bone tired, had worked a seventeen-hour day, but the sight of Tony's note lifted her spirits in ways that confused her. She should have been perfectly fine coming home to her quiet house. No phones ringing, no teenage girls, no one to talk to. Just the way she liked it.

The very fact that Tony wanted to see her, had gone out of his way to invite her over…

Maybe it was time to set the record straight.

The next thing Natalie knew, she was knocking on his front door.

Soft lights cast shadows on the inside. Shivering against the cold, she should have thrown on a coat.

The door opened and Tony, in dark T-shirt and jeans, stepped aside to let her in.

"I got your note," she said, feeling a sudden surge of breathlessness.

She grew vaguely aware she'd forgotten to take off her apron and she noticed her hands were stained with petal and stem pigments.

Usually she was indifferent to how she smelled after work—she was used to the floral perfumes that came in contact with her skin; right now she noticed she smelled pungently like flowers.

"Sit down." Tony steered her to the sofa strewn with throw pillows and an afghan—a sofa that hadn't been here the last time. It was leather, a rich dark brown color. Very soft and very inviting.

It felt wonderful to rest her feet, to take the weight of the day off her legs. She never sat when she arranged, she moved around too much. She leaned her head back and removed her shoes. She wore jeans and a pullover knit top that was pink and had a V-neck. Reaching behind her, she pulled on the ties of her apron, tossed it to the floor beside her shoes.

"I smell," she said, staring at the green stains on her hands.

"You smell good."

"I don't always smell the sweetness, I smell the sap from twigs or the bitterness of greens. What do I smell like to you?"

He knelt in front of her on the floor, situated himself between her legs and put each foot on one of his knees. "Roses."

"I worked with them all night for that wedding tomorrow. I need to be at the church by seven to get everything set up." She exhaled, tried to make her muscles go slack, but it was a battle against a fatigue that held her in its clutches. "I'm so tired."

"Lean your head back."

"No, I can't. I need to tell you something." She resisted brooking an argument, and trying not to think about the fact Tony was right here, touching her legs and within reach of her mouth if she wrapped her arms around him.

'Tell me what?"

She suddenly grew quiet, unable to form the words. This wasn't going to be as easy as she thought.

"What, Natalie?" he coaxed. "You can tell me anything."

She gazed at him and gathered her thoughts enough to speak them. "I like you, Tony. You're smart, good-looking, funny—I enjoy being with you."

"I enjoy being with you, too."

"But we need to have the parameters defined."

"Why did I know you were going to say that?"

"Because I have to be truthful with you." Natalie sat straighten "I only had one child because that's all I can have. I'm not thrilled to tell you I'm going into peri-menopause because of my age, but it's a truth I can't avoid and you have