The Gratitude Guarantee (Boyfriend in the Bargain #4)

26. Zach

26

ZACH

F or the third time today, I pull my phone out and open it up just to click it closed and slide it back into my pocket. My fingers are itching to text Brenna, but I already sent her a message on Saturday to see how she was doing and her reply was short. She said she was fine and thanked me again for bringing her home. I replied that I was glad to do it and that was that.

What else is there to say? Hi, I miss you, I think I want to ask you to be my girlfriend for real but I’m not sure yet so please stand by?

I grip the rake in my hand tighter and unleash my frustration on Mr. George’s lawn. The maple trees that shade his yard wave their bare limbs above me as the wind whips through them, pushing darker gray clouds across an overcast sky. The weather fits my mood today.

As usual, Mr. George appears on the porch with a check just as I finish. “Good work, son. Thanks for taking care of those leaves.”

“No problem,” I say with a tight smile. “Anything else I can help with before I go?”

“No, I believe that’s got it.” Mr. George studies me with a gleam in his eye. “Lady trouble?”

I freeze in the process of tucking his check into my front pants pocket. “How…how did you know?”

“You have that look about you,” he says with a knowing smile. “Kind of tense and glum. I’ve worn that look many a time.”

And here I thought I was doing a good job concealing my inner turmoil. He watches me for a moment, his eyes kind, until I find myself blurting, “How do you know if a woman is the right one for you? Shouldn’t I be able to tell right away?”

Mr. George chuckles and makes a beckoning motion with one age-spotted hand. “Come up here, son. I need to sit.” He lowers himself into a rocking chair and gestures for me to take the one next to him.

I follow, and once I’m settled, he says, “Those are some big questions. I think the way you know if she’s the woman for you is when you know that even if you can live without her, you don’t want to. When you picture your future and she’s there in every scenario that makes sense, that’s how you know. And as for being able to tell right away, well…let’s just say I don’t believe in love at first sight. My Nancy drove me crazy when I first met her—and not in a good way.”

He pauses and looks out over the porch rail with eyes that are seeing memories instead of the yard in front of him, his fingers steepled under his chin. “We were very different people, Nancy and I, but she grew on me, and I wouldn’t go back and change a thing. I’m thankful we had a couple of good friends who kept pushing us together until we got to know each other enough to see beyond the surface.”

I nod as I follow along with his story. “So how long did you know her before you realized you loved her?”

“Oh, about six months. It could have been a lot sooner if I hadn’t been a stubborn old fool who was determined to be right all the time. But eventually, we stopped butting heads enough to become friends, and then one day I realized it was something more than that.”

“And then you lived happily ever after?” I say with a playful smile.

The old man hoots. “If only Nancy made it that easy. It took a little while for me to convince her that she loved me too.” His grin softens to a gentle smile. “But then? Yes, we lived happily ever after.”

We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, until a particularly stiff breeze makes Mr. George shudder. “I’d better get these old bones back inside where it’s warm.”

He pushes out of his rocker and I follow suit, holding out my hand to him. He clasps it firmly. “Thanks for the advice and for sharing your story with me, Mr. George.”

“Call me Ralph,” he says. “And it was a pleasure. I wish you luck with your young lady. Be bold and be patient.”

Bold and patient? He shuffles past me and into the house. I step off the porch and walk to my truck, trying to make sense of that last piece of advice. How can I be both bold and patient, two things that seemingly contradict each other?

I drive to the next job with my mind working double time to understand how I can apply Mr. George’s—excuse me, Ralph’s—wisdom to my own love life. It reminds me of Grant’s accusation that I’ve been waiting on love at first sight, that I haven’t given most of my dates a fair chance. The more I think about it, the more I’m forced to admit that there’s probably a grain of truth in that. But how does that help me with Brenna?

I mentally catalog what I know.

I know I’m attracted to her more than any other woman I’ve ever met, and I think she feels something for me too, if her desire to kiss me on Friday is any indication.

I know that the more time I spend with her, the more intense my feelings become.

And I know that I’m scared as all get out about making the wrong choice, hence my hesitancy and my decision to ride out the dating ban despite the first two facts.

After a full day of raking and blowing leaves, my conclusion is this: I need to spend more time with Brenna, and I don’t want to wait till January to do it. And I also still think it’s a good idea to keep my commitment to myself, to fulfill the whole time I had allotted as a break from dating. In the meantime, I can be her friend. We can spend low-pressure, non-romantic time together and get to know each other.

As long as she wants to, of course. I try not to think about what will happen if she’s not interested in even being friends. I’m actually a little alarmed by how much I want to spend time with her. But I think this might be what Ralph meant about being bold. So despite the possibility of rejection, I will put myself out there and offer my friendship. That’s the only way I can think of to see if these sparks are the kind that burn out in the rain or the kind that last like an Olympic torch for generations.

To that end, I pull out my phone and finally text her like I’ve been wanting to do all day.