One Little Chance (Sweet River)

Chapter 10

FEbrUARY 14TH, 2023

Galentines Dinner xoxo

Lucy Rhodes

Hi my beautiful Galentines! Just a reminder for tonight—we’re meeting at the restaurant at 6:15! I can’t wait to see all of you! So grateful to call each of you friend 3

A little over a week passed, and I didn’t hear much from Jordan. It was a loaded quiet between us, tense like a held breath. Had those days with texting and touching been a grief-ridden lapse in his judgment? Old flames still flickering?

Or was he just busy?

Or, maybe, like me, he didn’t know what we were supposed to say now? I’d sent him a message checking in, and he’d responded kindly but shortly. After we’d held hands and held each other, it still felt blurry between us, like snow on the windshield.

Valentine’s Day rolled around, and I woke up to rain thudding against my window, so I spent the morning planning a craft for school next week and watching Julia Roberts run away from a wedding on my TV screen. I wanted to think of anything except Jordan.

A few of my fellow teachers invited me to go to a Valentine’s Dinner with them at an Italian restaurant downtown, and weeks ago, I had halfheartedly agreed to go. But then Lucy Rhodes, a bubbly kindergarten teacher, created a group thread titled “Galentines Dinner” with the four teachers in it, so it made bailing even more awkward.

As the group thread lit up, I sighed with the realization I wasn’t getting out of this dinner.

I wore a soft pink sweater and my best-fitting jeans and added a few curls to my dark waves before heading out.

Red heart-shaped balloons dangled from the ceiling, candles flickered in the middle of each table, and my three dates giggled at a table in the back corner. Lucy spotted me, waving me over. I weaved through the crowded space. This seemed to be the place to be tonight in Sweet River. As I passed the table directly across from my group, my eyes landed on…Jordan.

This town. If I wasn’t running into memories of him, I was running into the literal him.

Jordan was with a few friends, not quite as giggly as my crew.

I felt torn between really hoping he’d notice me and also really hoping to remain invisible. Jordan definitely noticed me. His jaw opened in surprise before he shook his head with a smile spreading across his face. I gave a tiny shrug as I slinked into the open chair at my table.

Jordan hung his large body off his chair, leaning toward me across the slim aisle. “Great minds?” His voice sounded like an old favorite song I hadn’t heard in a while but was realizing I knew beat for beat. I wanted to press repeat.

“I guess so,” I said through a chuckle. I then gestured to my friends. “Some of my friends from work are having a Galentines Day.”

Lucy said, “Hi.” Simone smiled.

Jordan tugged his thumb toward his table. “A single support group.” The word single was like a knife to my chest. Jordan never felt like anything but mine.

His friends began introducing themselves. A table of men across from my table of women. And within twenty minutes, our tables were scooted together while we dug into our dinners.

His friend Ray and my friend Simone had split off from the group having their own conversation. Jordan nodded their way and raised his eyebrows, I mouthed, Right? And the exchange felt achingly familiar and easy.

“Okay.” I twisted in my seat toward him. “How’re you doing? It’s been a rough few months for you.”

“Cutting to the chase, huh?” Jordan asked as a server filled our glasses with more water.

“You know I like to think it’s part of my charm., I said after a sip of my champagne.

“It is. Sophia, always blowing past the limits, at track meets, in conversations,” Jordan said as I winced. “But, Sophie, you always do it with grace. It leaves everyone in the stands or at the table,” he licked his bottom lip, “hooked.”

My face flushed pink. I looked away.

“To answer your question, though, I’m okay. My buddies thought I’d need some support today, you know, after the breakup a couple months back.” Jordan swirled a noodle in red sauce. “I haven’t really thought about it in the past couple weeks. Honestly, the past couple months, I’ve been a little distracted.”

“How’ve you been since Nana?”

“It ebbs and flows. Probably always will,” he said, settling his gaze on me. “Today’s been a good day, though. I’m here with friends, with you.”

“Ebbs and flows,” I repeated. I felt the openness in his tone, him letting me back in bit by bit. Like my keys still worked. “Not the worst Valentine’s Day ever then?”

“No, no. Em’s not the worst heartbreak I ever had, either,” he said it casually, but it had an impact, knocking the air out of my lungs. “Now, let’s hear how you’re doing. It’s been a big couple months for you too. You moved back. You’re starting over.”

I chewed a bite of cheese ravioli, thinking through my answer. “You know, it doesn’t feel like starting over. It feels like coming back home after too long away. Big hugs from everyone I run into, running my old favorite paths. Reconnecting with old friends, making new ones. It’s been easier than I thought.”

Jordan’s eyes lit at my response. “I’m so happy. I know you went through a lot before you came back.”

“Yeah, when I left, I was eighteen and reeling after my dad left my mom, and it took me some time to work through everything. And I was in a relationship, a marriage, that I thought was an escape, but it left me feeling lonelier than ever. But the time after my own divorce, after the grieving, and the healing, and some therapy, that felt like starting over. This, this feels like…”

“A warm hug?” he asked, slipping his arm around me and pulling me in. I giggled holding my fork with a bite of ravioli on it in the air. This warmth, this ease, was something I’d missed, and after losing it, I recognized now how lucky I was to be feeling it again.

“It’d been too long away,” I said as he let me go. The two of us returned to our plates. A jazzy song with saxophones crooned through the restaurant.

“Sounds like it was an important time that you needed. You can’t rush things like growing. Or healing. Not everyone is going to stay in Sweet River forever. We’re just lucky you came back. You left this scrappy little eighteen-year-old, and now, you’re,” he looked me over, “a grown woman. Still scrappy as ever.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Your hair is longer, and you’ve got this scar by your lip.” His gaze tripped down my face, down my neck, making my heart trip. “A few new freckles across your neck.”

“The scar was from a short gig as a dog walker while I was in college.” I tore a piece of warm garlic bread and dragged it through softened butter. “What were you up to all this time?”

He leaned back in his chair. “I was trying to get over you,” he said, and I almost choked on my bite, but he continued, “I went to school for business, which was fun. I focused hard on the work, though, not making much time for anything else. I got out of school and went straight to building up the business. I love working with my dad. I love building houses. I dated here and there. I thought Emma could be the one. It seemed like a nice story. She was sweet.”

“She seemed sweet,” I said.

“Who’s sweet?” Lucy asked on the other side of me. Reminding me that Jordan and I were at a table full of people, not on an intimate date.

“Jordan’s ex, Emma Brown,” I said, trying to sound as un-awkward as possible.

Lucy smiled. “Oh, yeah. I know her.” Unsure what to say to Jordan about his ex.

“We were talking about what we’ve been up to the last several years,” I offered before taking a sip of water.

“Oh, I’m curious. What were you up to?” Lucy asked me. The table went quiet for me to share.

“School, for starters. I was busy getting an education degree—practicums and reading an insane number of children’s books. You know about that, Lucy. I dated one guy during school. Honestly, looking back, I was trying so hard to force it. He was a musician and seemed like the perfect escape route from my own problems. We got married straight out of college.” I still remembered looking in the mirror the morning of my wedding, my mom questioning, Is this what you want? And I thought, shouldn’t I know the answer to that before I walk down the aisle?

“He was going this way with his music.” I pointed one direction with my right hand. “And I was going this way.” I pointed the opposite way with my left hand. “Also, I had to learn that marriage isn’t something that you can use to hide away from all the hard and scary things of life—eventually, everything finds a way to seep in. And it’ll tear your relationship down.”

People murmured around me, but my eyes were locked on Jordan’s hazel eyes.

“Like I was just telling Jordan, I had some stuff to work through. Some stuff to face. And that’s exactly what I was doing the past several years. Growing up. Tyler and I divorced. I spent time getting to know myself again, facing all the stuff I was running from,” I said.

The server reached across the table to move our empty plates.

“What brought you back? The job?” Simone asked.

“I asked myself after I finally trusted I knew the answer: what was right for me? And you know what? It was coming back here.” I tapped the table in front of us. In front of Jordan.

“I’m glad you came back,” Lucy said through a smile. Someone asked her if she’d ever moved away. Other people started discussing college romances.

Jordan covered my hand with his. “I’m glad you came back, too.” Then he added, “And I’m proud of you for facing all the stuff you’d been running from.”

“Me too.” I toyed with my cloth napkin. “It’s something I had to do on my own, away from all my crutches.”

Jordan cleared his throat. “Sophia Rogers always wants to do it on her own.”

“I had to do that on my own. But I realized I don’t want to do everything alone. I missed the people here. So I came home, didn’t I?”

Through a dry laugh, Jordan said, “Yes, and you have remarkable timing. You came back right when I needed some Sophie in my life.”

Was that all? He just needed some Sophie a couple weeks ago? A tiny fix. While I feel like I’ve been needing Jordan since we were racing down our childhood streets. Since he carried me across the finish line. Since he kissed me under the mistletoe.

He was wrong thinking I had to do everything on my own. I needed to grow up and prove to myself I could do things on my own after growing up feeling like he was a fact of my life in the way my eyes were brown. Needing Jordan felt like part of my DNA.

There was some friendly group chatter. Some laughter. People got up to leave, waved goodbye, and kissed cheeks. Ray and Simone were going for coffee down the block. They didn’t invite us, and we wouldn’t have joined. We stayed.

Waiters came and pulled our tables apart. Jordan ordered us dessert and more drinks. We kept talking. My heart fizzed like champagne in a flute.

I was telling him about my last teaching job when I spotted Emma, Jordan’s ex, and Gabriel, together again , at the bar. Please leave, I silently prayed. I was wrapped up in Jordan’s attention like a cozy coat I had to myself right now, and I didn’t want to share.

Gabriel and I exchanged glances. Jordan was searching for a photo on his phone to show me, and I unabashedly gave Gabriel a look of complete horror that he was here. He didn’t seem thrilled to see Jordan and me either.

I saw him swallow and then turn to Emma.

Moments later, with a wine bottle in tow, they left the restaurant giggling. Jordan was in a single support group tonight, and Emma was on a date , I thought a little judgmentally.

But then, I looked around the table… It was only Jordan and me sharing dessert alone at a candlelit table, cheeks flushed and sharing stories. This wasn’t a date, but it was something . And I wouldn’t leave the table until he did.

“We talked about the past,” Jordan said, sliding his fork through our chocolate cake. “Tell me about your future. What do you want the next decade to look like?”

I felt myself smiling. “Honestly, now that I’m nearly thirty, I’m not going to pretend about what I want anymore. I want the cozy Hallmark story. I want the loud kids in the house. A husband who makes us breakfast on the weekend. I want piles of laundry to gripe about. I want to make lessons while my husband rubs my feet, and we watch a movie. I want the family, the dog, the house.” I imagined the house we used to dream of, but I didn’t tell him that part. “I want the sappy, Hallmark stuff. I just do .”

He took in a deep breath. “I want that, too.”

A candle flickered on the table and cast shadows on Jordan’s elbows resting on the table. Something had crumbled between us weeks ago.

“You want piles of laundry?” I tried to make a joke.

“I’m not afraid of laundry. Or rubbing feet.” Was he talking about my laundry, my feet? I almost asked, but there was still a delicate history between us. Something to handle with care.

We didn’t leave until the waiters began sweeping the floors and locking the doors. Until they told us they were closing soon.

I bundled my coat in the darkened restaurant.

“Wow, I didn’t realize this would be such a late night.” Jordan patted his pockets making sure he had his wallet and keys.

“Me neither.” I followed him to the door.

The server unlocked it for us, urging us to “Stay dry.”

We stepped out into the pouring rain. The sidewalks cleared of people with everyone taking cover. Storm and streetlights and us.

Jordan squinted through the water. “I’m glad we ran into each other,” he said, his voice raised over the downpour. “Glad we got to spend another Valentine’s Day together.”

“Me too,” I nearly shouted. I raised an arm over my face so I could look up at him. His hazel eyes looked amber, and his sandy hair soaked. He was so much better than my memories.

“It’s nice to know you’re doing well back home. Back here.” He took a step closer to me. “You know, we could hang out sometimes?”

“Not just keep running into each other?” I said trying to smile, my teeth starting to chatter from the cold seeping through my wet clothes.

“If you ever want to…” There was yearning in his voice, a question, but also hesitance. I wanted to push through it like a door.

“I do want to,” I said quickly. Maybe too quickly. I didn’t care.

He nodded. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said, almost forcefully. I stepped closer. He ran his hand over his face to clear away the water.

The two of us were stuck in place, freezing and drenched, like we had cement in our shoes instead of rain. Like it was useless to try and keep us apart.

A few silent beats passed. A car drove down the street splashing water in its wake. A couple ran down the sidewalk squealing in the rain to their car.

“We probably look crazy out here,” Jordan said, his eyes still on me. “Why…”

“I guess we missed each other,” I offered. A feeble, tiny, minimization of the feelings between us.

It hurt when we separated. Every single time. Even tonight.

“I guess so,” he murmured, thoughtful. “I don’t want Sweet River Elementary needing to call in a sub because their favorite new teacher is sick.”

I laughed softly. “A little rain doesn’t hurt,” I said through chattering teeth. He raised a hand toward me, and I knew that little shoulder rub he was about to do so well I started to lean into it…but before making contact he dropped his hand.

He took a step back. “I’m this way.” He pointed behind himself in the opposite direction of where I was parked.

“I’m that way.” I nodded behind me.

“See you around, Sophie?”

“Not if I see you first,” I said as he turned on his feet and sloshed his way toward his truck.

I stood there another minute, not ready to leave the perfect little Valentine bubble we’d shared. A car door slammed shut. I shook my head, waking myself from the haze, and stumbled through the puddled streets to my car.