Paige Rewritten (29 page)

“First things first,” I tell him. “If I'm expected to share this office with you, you are going to have to clean.”

“For you, Paige, I might even do that.”

Chapter

21

I
t's nine o'clock on Saturday morning. I'm showered, fully dressed, fully made up, and my hair is even curled into a beachy summer look I'm going to try for this season.

I'm sitting on the couch, arms crossed over my chest, staring at my front door.

Any minute now. I can feel it.

Sure enough, two minutes later I hear someone's footsteps on the metal staircase and a second later, soft knocking on my door.

I march over to the door and yank it open, preparing to give Luke the verbal thrashing of the century that will most likely start with,
“Leave me alone.”

Tyler stands there, hands in the pockets of his jeans, blond hair curling crazily over his head, and a huge grin covering his face. “Oh good! You got my text.”

I just gape at him. “Your text?”

“Yeah.” He looks at me for a second and then shakes his head at my blank expression, laughing. “And maybe you didn't. Next week is my mom's birthday. I was asking if you wanted to join me for breakfast out and then birthday shopping.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before I'm nodding. “I'll get my shoes,” I say, leaving him on the porch.

I slide into a pair of flip-flops, grab my purse and my sunglasses, and follow Tyler down the steps to the parking lot.

He stops me right before we get to his truck, reaches for my right hand, slips his left hand under my hair, leans down, and kisses my cheek.

I suddenly am having a lot of trouble getting a full breath.

“I'm glad you're coming,” he says, his blue eyes sweet and warm. His fingers are flicking lightly through my hair and a colony of roly-polies have apparently decided to rent out space in my stomach and my knees. “I hate birthday shopping by myself.”

He opens the passenger door for me, and it's not until he's walking around to get into the driver's seat that I can finally inhale enough to get some oxygen back into my brain.

Tyler climbs into his seat and by the time he puts the keys in the ignition I'm back to a fully functioning human being.

“So, better late than never, huh?” I ask him, pleased with myself that my voice even sounds pretty normal.

“What?”

“Your mom's birthday is next week?”

“Yep.”

“And we're just now shopping this morning?”

He looks at me. “This is early, Paige. Half the time I shop on my way to the post office.”

“I'm speechless.”

“Priority shipping, babe.”

“Really. Speechless.”

“Because of how impressive of a son I am, huh?” He grins at me. “Now. What do you think we should get my mom?”

“Tyler, I've never met your mother.”

“But you are a woman. Women know gifts for women.” He grips the steering wheel. “Or at least tell me what store to drive to.”

I just laugh.

We end up at this nice outdoor mall about an hour later after stuffing ourselves with French toast at a cute little breakfast place.

I do not think I ever want to eat again.

The mall is just opening, crowds are low, the temperature hasn't gotten so high that we're swearing off the outside forever, and it's actually nice wandering around.

“Okay,” Tyler says. “Mom likes roosters.”

“Like live ones?” I'm now worried about the upbringing Tyler has received. I do not mix with barn animals well. One of my friends raised rabbits and that was about as wild as I was willing to be around.

I've told Layla several times that if I'm ever in a Tom Hanks–style accident and somehow get lost on some island and have to fend for myself, she might as well just go ahead and start helping my mother plan my funeral because there is no way I'm making it back alive.

God knew what He was doing when He allowed me to be born into air-conditioning. And flushable toilets.

“No.” Tyler grins over at me. “Like ceramic ones. She's got a couple of roostery things in her kitchen.”

“I don't think that's a word.”

“This from the girl who told me that her eggs were too scrambley today?”

“They were. You have to respect the egg.” I sigh, worried about what stores we might have to look in to find something rooster oriented. “What else does she like?”

He looks thoughtfully at one of the window displays we are passing. “She likes Christmas stuff.”

“Tyler, it's May.”

“I know.”

“What about like earrings or home accessories or bath stuff or gift cards?” I throw that last one in there in the hopes that Tyler will say, “Yes, gift card. Let us purchase one immediately.” He's going to be shipping this gift to Missouri, where his mom and stepdad live. A gift card would be the optimal thing to ship.

It doesn't work. He just purses his lips and looks at me. “I think she wears earrings,” he says very slowly.

I rub my forehead, preparing for a very long Saturday.

“This is fun, huh?” he says, one side of his mouth quirking up.

“So much.”

“Bet you wish I had like eleven moms so we could do this more often.”

I drop my chin in a fake gape. “Now you can read thoughts too?”

He laughs.

We are wandering through our fifteenth store around two o'clock in the afternoon when I remember I haven't informed him of my news.

I haven't informed anyone of my news.

“So, I'm quitting the adoption agency.” Just saying the words out loud makes a nerve under my right eye start shaking.

I am not a quitter.

Tyler's head jerks up. “What?”

“Retiring. I'm retiring from the agency,” I rephrase.

He grins, tucking his fingers in his pockets. “You took the job, didn't you? I knew you would.”

“How did you know I would? I didn't even know I would until 5:37 last night.”

He shrugs. “I know you, Paige.” He holds up a digital picture frame that is all shabby chic. Preslee would love it. “This looks like my mom.”

I nod my approval. “Done.”

I think about his comment as he goes to the back to pay for the frame.
“I know you, Paige.”

It hits me then that he
does
know me. I haven't known Tyler long, but in the few months since I met him, he's become a very good friend.

I watch him walk back with his bag and he holds it up like Rafiki presenting Simba to the animal kingdom.

What a weirdo. I just laugh.

“Okay, now that we have a success on our hands,” Tyler lowers the bag and reaches again for my hand, “I want to show you something.”

“That sounds ominous.”

“You know what I like the most about us, Paige? The trust. There is just this overwhelming sense of trust between us.” He stops halfway outside the store suddenly, holding a hand up, looking around. “See? Did you feel that?” He waves his hand around. “Trust,” he whispers.

I shake my head. “You are crazy.”

“Eh. I've been called worse.”

“Where is this something?”

He grins at me all happy and cute, and I think I have a pretty good idea of what Tyler looked like as a six-year-old when he was making plans to break into the cookie jar.

“You'll see.”

We walk back to the truck and Tyler sets his gift for his mom behind his seat. “She's going to flip for that. I'm glad you talked me into coming to the mall.”

“You're welcome.”

He backs out of the parking space and starts driving toward I-75.

“So about this new job,” he says, looking over at me at a red light.

“Yes, the new job.” I still am having trouble believing it. When I took the job at the agency, I expected to be there until I left for maternity leave, or something else hugely life changing like that someday light years in the future.

“I'm proud of you.”

I look over at him and he squeezes my hand, eyes gentle. “I know it was probably a very hard decision, and I think you're going to be great with the girls. Plus, you'll actually get to do what you have been wanting to do.”

I nod. “Yeah, there is that.”

“Working with Rick should be interesting.”

That was the understatement of the year. Rick sent me a text this morning. C
LEANING OUT THE OFFICE PER YOUR REQUEST
. F
OUND ANT
. A
SSUME MORE TO COME
. S
URE YOU DON
'
T WANT YOUR DESK IN THE HALL?
Y
OU PROBABLY WON
'
T BE SITTING THERE VERY OFTEN ANYWAY.

I almost wrote him back and told him to forget the whole thing. Then I remembered that the church janitor has been a friend of mine ever since I spent six painstaking hours removing all the crayon that one of our particularly naughty two-year-olds had drawn with all over the nursery wall. I left a voice mail for him at the church this morning.

God willing, two weeks from now I'll walk into a bright and clean youth office at the church.

Tyler turns south onto I-35 and I frown. “Where are you taking me?”

“You'll see.”

We keep driving on the interstate, and Tyler tells me about his big project that he's working on. “Basically, I spend the first five months of the year working on this one thing. At the end of June, my team and I have a big presentation for it. The president of our company is coming down from Indianapolis for it.” He winces over at me. “I could use some prayers. I'm already sweating at night about it.”

“I'll be praying. And have you looked into those cooling pillows? My mom says they work wonders.” My mom is also going through menopause, so who knows if they work for average cooling needs.

I like my pillow and bed warm. I know I am in the minority.

Tyler just chuckles. “I'll keep that in mind.”

“Are we there yet?”

“I knew you were that kind of a kid.”

I fidget in my seat. “No, seriously, how much longer?”

“I don't know. Ten minutes? Why?”

“You really should have informed me we were driving to Mexico. I would have used the restroom at the mall.”

He grins. “I'll step on it.”

Eleven minutes later, he pulls into a parking lot with millions of trees and bushes and flowers around us.

“Hey, are we at the arboretum?” I look around.

“Yep.” Tyler is all smiles.

“I have always wanted to come here and never made it!”

“I know. Layla told me.” He reaches behind his seat and pulls out a backpack I hadn't noticed there. “Want to walk around for a bit? With a bathroom stop first, of course.”

We walk to the entrance of a huge, grand building. Beautiful flowers are already everywhere. I have wanted to come here since I moved to Dallas. There were a couple of days I almost just drove down here, but it seemed depressing to walk around a huge flower garden by myself, and Layla isn't into the outdoors.

I keep telling her that I'm not either, but flowers are a different story for me. Not for Layla.

Tyler pays the entrance fee, I run to the restroom, then we walk in. Two minutes through the door and I'm already stunned at the beauty. That and the sudden realization that I don't know what any flower is beyond daisies, roses, and tulips.

And sunflowers.

And that's it.

“My sister loves this place.” Tyler slings the backpack over one shoulder and reaches for my hand, weaving his fingers between mine. “Every time Stephanie comes to visit me, we always have to come here.”

Tyler's parents got divorced when he was little. Neither of them are Christians, which just makes him and his sister all the closer since both of them are. I've never met Stephanie, but he talks so much about her, I feel like I know her. She married one of Tyler's good friends and is going to have a baby in the summer.

“She knows all the names of all the flowers.” He points to a particularly pretty patch of some yellow flower I could never identify.

Well, that's one way that I'll never live up to his sister. Might as well inform him of this good and early while things still are in the not-quite-seriously-dating mode.

“I think I know three flowers,” I tell him.

“Which one is your favorite?”

“Daisies.” I nod. “Definitely daisies.”

He shrugs. “That's all you or I need to know. The rest is just nice to look at, don't you think? Honestly, Stef can get a little overwhelming with her ‘hydrangea' this and ‘flowering whatever' that.”

We walk along this huge tree-lined path, and it's hard to believe that just a few minutes ago we were in the middle of a mall. It feels like we might be out in an English countryside now. Wide, grassy fields with flowers and a view of a lake stretch out around us.

“This is incredible,” I say, gasping.

“It's pretty, isn't it?” He looks over at me and smiles, rubbing his thumb along the back of my hand.

Families and couples litter the areas around us, lounging on the grass, walking along the pathways, watching the lake, and smelling the flowers. It is a beautiful day to be outside.

We come alongside a huge sea of red, pink, and yellow tulips and Tyler stops, looking at the flowers and then reaching for my other hand. “So, Paige, I've been waiting to ask you this question for a few weeks,” he starts, blue eyes focused on me, a slight smile on his mouth.

I just look at him. We have barely started dating. If he proposes, I will have to call a cab home. My shoulders are suddenly aching, and there's this little thought in the back of my brain that shoulder pain can be the first signal of a heart attack.

But really, it wouldn't be a bad way to go, surrounded by flowers, holding the hands of a really attractive man.