Chapter 7

Paige and I walked into our coffee shop the following Wednesday afternoon. I’d had a quiet and uneventful few days at school so far this week and I liked that. We got in line and ordered our drinks idly chatting about our day. When they arrived we found a table and sat down.

“Have you talked to Patrick lately?” she asked after taking a sip of her drink. I rolled my eyes at her. Lately every conversation with her turned to Patrick at some point.

“I talked to him on Sunday actually,” I told her. Her eyes lit up and a smile spread across her face.

“What about?” I thought back to the phone call and smiled.

“I thanked him for offering Nathan and I tickets, he told me about his game from the night before, and that’s about it,” I explained. Paige looked disappointed.

“That’s it?” I nodded and took a sip of my coffee. “Really?”

“Sorry that I don’t have anything juicier for you,” I apologized sarcastically.

She changed the subject after that and we continued to sit and talk for a while about other things. Even though we weren’t discussing Patrick anymore, he was still on my mind. It had only been a few days since I’d talked to him but I found that I wanted to talk to him again. Paige and I went our separate ways and I headed home with Patrick on the brain.

On one hand I didn’t like that he was having this kind of effect on me, and yet I did. It was a strange predicament I’d never found myself in before. I absentmindedly greeted Loxley when I got home. I decided to go for a run to clear my head and took Loxley with me. By the time I was home I wasn’t anywhere close to getting Patrick off my mind.

I spotted my cell sitting on the coffee table and narrowed my eyes at it. Did I dare? What would I say? I couldn't just call Patrick to talk, could I? I needed an excuse. I sat down on the couch and thought. Finally something popped into my head and I picked up my phone. I highlighted Patrick’s name in my contacts list and hesitated. Do it now before you chicken out, I told myself.

“Hi, this is Patrick. Sorry I missed you. Leave a name and a number and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can,” his voicemail picked up.

I panicked and hung up. As soon as I did I smacked myself in the head. He was going to be able to see that my number was the missed call. You idiot, Gabrielle. Now what? Without thinking about it, I called his number again. This time I didn’t hang up.

“Hi, Patrick, it’s Gabrielle. Sorry about the last call. I got disconnected somehow. I was actually just calling about the tickets for Nathan and I. I realized that I hadn’t explained the schedule of games we could attend to you. Just give me a call back when you can to discuss it. Thanks.”

It was a lame excuse to make the call, but I did it. I tried to make myself sound as professional as possible in the message. I went over what I’d said in my head a few times before chiding myself. You’re not in high school, you’re an adult. Get a grip. I pushed Patrick out of my mind and hopped into the shower.

After taking a long hot shower I searched through my cupboards to see what I could do for dinner. I decided on something easy and grabbed out the ingredients for a shrimp stir-fry. I put on some music and made dinner. When I finished eating I fed Loxley and then walked into my studio. I studied the painting I’d started on Sunday.

Just as I was about to sit and continue, I heard my phone ring. I sprinted out of the studio and into the living room to my phone. I practically dove at it, hoping to see Patrick’s name on the screen. I saw that it was and took a moment to compose myself before answering.

“Hello?” I answered casually.

“Hey, Gabby, it’s Patrick. I got your message.” I felt my stomach do a little flip at him calling me Gabby. He’d never done that before. You only used nicknames with people you liked being around, right?

“Oh, good. I realized we hadn’t talked about it and I didn’t want you leaving tickets for games we wouldn’t be attending.”

“I have Friday free. Why don’t we get together for dinner and discuss it then?” Wait, hold on, what? I’d figured we were just going to talk about it now on the phone, not over dinner. Even so, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Friday sounds great.”

We figured out a time and a location before hanging up. I fell back onto the couch in a kind of daze. Patrick and I were going to be having dinner in two days. Sensing something was up, Loxley made his way over to me and began to nudge my hand. I gave him a pat on the head and laughed.

“Don’t worry, buddy, Mama’s okay,” I assured him.

The next day flew by in a blur for me. Before I knew it I was sitting at home after school was out on Friday. I was playing tug of war with Loxley when a sudden panic hit me. What was I going to wear? I jumped up and stared into my closet and groaned. I didn’t exactly own date-worthy clothes. I picked up my phone and called Paige.

“I’m having dinner with Patrick tonight and I don’t know what to wear,” I told her.

“I’ll be right over,” came her reply. She hung up the phone and I sat down on the couch, fidgeting nervously until there was a knock on my door.

“You’re better at this stuff than I am,” I said as she walked through the door. I noticed then that she was carrying a bunch of stuff with her.

“I’m going to move right past the fact that you neglected to tell me about your date with him and get right to work,” she quipped.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. No one said date,” I said defensively. She put her stuff down and gave me a disbelieving look.

“Where are you going?” she asked. I relayed the information to her and she put it into a search on my computer. The restaurant’s website popped up and we looked at it. A knot started to form in my stomach. “How did dinner come up?”

“I called him and told him we should talk about the games Nathan and I would go to so he knew ahead of time. He suggested talking about it over dinner,” I explained. She lifted her eyebrows and a smile formed on her face.

“Couldn’t you have talked about it on the phone right then?” she asked.

“Sure,” I responded slowly.

“Keep that in mind while you look at the website for the restaurant you’re going to and tell me it’s not a date.”

I looked back at the computer screen. While the restaurant wasn’t black tie, it was hardly a chain place. There were linens on the tables with candles and mood lighting. Oh no. I, Gabrielle Tunney, was going on a date. A date?! I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been on a date. No way, this wasn’t happening.

“I can’t be going on a date. I don’t know how to date! I’m not good at it!” I exclaimed in exasperation.

“No one’s good at dating, Gabby. You’ll be fine,” Paige reassured me. It didn’t help.

“What if it’s a disaster? What if we don’t have anything to talk about?” I was in full on panic mode.

“Hello, you two have already had a dinner and talked long after the food was gone. You’ll be fine. Now sit down and let me get you ready,” she demanded.

I did as she said and sat down, allowing her to do my hair and makeup. When she was done with that she went to work picking out something for me to wear. She grabbed a black halter dress and a black cardigan to go over it, nothing too fancy, telling me I should look classic. I changed and she gave me a nod of approval.

We walked out of the building together. She gave me a few more words of encouragement before I got into a cab and headed to the restaurant. I nervously fidgeted around the entire drive and stumbled as I got out. Thankfully it didn’t seem like anyone saw and I tried to pull myself together before walking in.

“Gabby,” I heard Patrick say my name just after I walked in the door. I turned to see him standing up from a seat. I panicked once again thinking I was late. I was never late.

“Oh no, am I late?” I asked him. He smiled and shook his head.

“No, I was just early. I didn’t want to sit until you got here.”

I relaxed and smiled back at him. I took a moment to look him over. He looked amazing in his dark wash jeans and fitted shirt. We followed the hostess to a table and sat down. I took a silent deep breath before picking up the menu to distract myself a bit. I needed the distraction, because otherwise I was going to be thinking about how nervous I was.

“Do you want to get a bottle of wine?” Patrick asked.

“Unless you plan on drinking most of it, it might be a waste. I never have more than a glass,” I told him. He smiled over at me.

“Just a glass each then it is.”

We put in our drink orders and then continued to look over the menu in silence. I was practically hiding behind mine. Our waiter arrived with our drinks and we gave him our orders. Now that the menu was gone I didn’t have anything but the wine to distract me. I forced myself to only take a small sip and take my time drinking it.

“So you wanted to talk to me about the games you and Nathan could attend,” Patrick said. My nerves relaxed a little bit and I nodded. This was why we were here afterall.

“Yeah, I did. We’ll only need tickets for weekend games. I just wouldn’t feel right bringing Nathan to a game on a weekday with school the next morning. So basically Friday nights, Saturday, and if there are any Sunday afternoons,” I explained.

“Sounds good. I won’t worry about the rest of the nights then. I’ll just automatically have the tickets at will call waiting for you guys each game,” he told me.

“Thanks again for doing this for him.”

“You need to stop thanking me. I’ve told you it’s not a problem at all.” I blushed a little and nodded before taking another small sip of my wine. Now that the issue with Nathan was sorted out I didn’t know what to say. Thankfully Patrick spoke up. “I know that we probably could have said that over the phone, but thanks for meeting me for dinner. It gets lonely eating alone all the time.”

“I know what you mean,” I told him truthfully. Very very rarely did I ever have a meal with anyone else.

“It doesn’t help that I can’t cook either. No one wants to come over when your specialty is pressing the speed dial for pizza,” he joked. I laughed, unable to help myself.

“You can’t be that bad,” I insisted. He rolled his eyes.

“I’ve been known to royally screw up spaghetti.” I laughed again and he joined in. “How about you? Do you cook?”

“Yeah, I do actually. I enjoy it. I mean I’m not a culinary master, but I get the job done,” I explained.

“Did someone teach you, or were you just naturally good at it?” he asked.

“I’m self taught.”

“Impressive. My mother spent years trying to teach me how to cook knowing I’d be on my own someday. She’s very disappointed to have an offspring who is useless in the kitchen.” I laughed again.

“I’m sure she’s not that disappointed. You must have other talents. Like hockey.” Patrick shrugged.

“Trust me, that’s hardly consolation to her. Now my brother, he can cook a mean roast. Makes her proud. Every year when I come home she keeps trying to teach me. My father just rolls his eyes at her determination.”

“Well, she’s obviously worried about what you’re eating. If pizza on speed dial is the specialty, I’d say she has good reason.” He laughed and agreed.

“So how about your family? What are they like?” It was an innocent enough question, but my smile faded. It was the first time my family had been brought up between us. I took a deep breath before responding.

“It’s just me,” I told him quietly, casting my eyes down to the table. I didn’t like talking about my family.

“Oh, Gabrielle, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize,” he apologized. I looked back up at him and gave him a small smile.

“Don’t apologize. It’s been 9 years,” I told him trying to shrug it off.

Our dinner came just at that moment and I was thankful. We both looked down at our food after the waiter had moved off, but neither of us made a move to start eating. Desperate to get the pall out of dinner I brought up the only thing I could think of.

“So how did you get started with hockey?” I asked. He looked up at me and smiled, obviously relieve at the topic change.

“Now that’s a long story,” he began.

“You’re Canadian?” I joked. He laughed.

“I guess it’s not that long,” he replied while still laughing.

The rest of the dinner went off without a hitch. We had more than enough to talk about the rest of the time, avoiding the topic of my family of course. He tried to insist on taking a cab with me back to my place to make sure I got home okay, but I refused because he had to head in the opposite direction.

Before I got in the cab he took my hand and pulled me close to him, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. I felt butterflies in my stomach flutter at the touch and I’m sure I was blushing. He said he’d call me before we went our separate ways. I got into bed that night with a smile, floating on cloud 9.