Resolution (Mason Family 5)

Rusti is a romantic if she’s anything, and I know that glimmer in her eye.

“Stop doing that,” I say as I walk by her.

“Stop doing what?” She spins around and follows me. “I’m not doing anything.”

Ignoring her question that should be rhetorical, I deliver the dress to the cashier.

“This will be it,” I tell the pretty blonde, pointedly ignoring both Rusti looming behind me and the rush of nervous energy spiraling through my veins.

“Did you find everything okay?” the cashier asks.

“Yes. Thank you.”

I pay for the dress, wait for the saleswoman to place it in a bag, and then carry it right past Rusti and to the exit.

I squint as my eyes adjust to the sunlight.

“So, you bit, huh?” Rusti asks.

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.”

She laughs. “You actually like the guy.”

I stop in the middle of the sidewalk, nearly causing an old man to run into my back. I offer him an apology, but he just steers a wide berth around Rusti and me and keeps trucking.

The anxiety that began to trickle through me in the store surges.

I don’t know how to answer Rusti’s question. Do I like him? How do I not? He’s handsome, successful—a gentleman. But none of that matters because of one simple, tiny little fact: it doesn’t matter.

From the moment I walked into his office and saw him sitting behind that stately desk, I knew it wouldn’t make a difference if I liked him or not. I crushed on him in college. It got me more huffs and eye rolls than I could count.

Wade Mason doesn’t do love or relationships or, hell, I don’t even know if he does one-night stands. He’s married to his job, and he has every right to be. Random people don’t achieve the things he has by screwing around on the weekends.

I respect that.

But the only way to keep our … friendship? working relationship? whatever it is manageable is not to think about it—not to think about the possibilities or if there was any chance whatsoever that Wade might be into me.

“Rusti, stop.” I open my car and hang the dress up in the back. “Let’s get a hot dog and talk about … anything. When are you seeing Zack again?”

I close the door.

She leans against the side of my car. “Like you’re interested in Zack.”

“I’m not,” I say, looking her in the eye. “But you are. So, let’s talk about him. Are you guys a thing now or what?”

She shoves off the car and follows me across the parking lot.

“I’m seeing him tonight. I don’t know if we’re back together,” she says. “We’re hanging out. We’re fucking, obviously. But we haven’t had a conversation about tomorrow or the next day or next week or next month.”

I slow my steps, relieved that she’s shifted topics. My breathing returns to a normal pace, and I look at Rusti without trying to build in a silent message.

She looks down and toes a rock as we walk.

“I’m sorry,” I say, putting my arm around her shoulders. She rests her head against mine. “I know you want something more with him. It must be hard to be in limbo and unsure about the future.”

She raises her head and sighs. “Yeah. It sucks.”

“But you’re young. You have time to find a man and settle down if that’s what you want.”

“I’m three years younger than you.”

I giggle. “Yes. Barely old enough to drink.”

She laughs. “I do want to get married. I want to be a young mom. My mom was twenty-two when she had me, and she had all the energy in the world while I was growing up. And she was still cool, you know? Liked the music I liked, liked to shop.” She smiles sadly. “I want that kind of a relationship with my daughter someday, but it’s never going to happen at this rate. I’ll be a new bride at seventy.”

“Dramatic much?”

A half-grin tickles her lips. “What about you?”

We round the corner and spot the hot dog stand. The lunch line is a solid twenty people long.

“What about me?” I say.

“Do you want to get married? Be a mom?” She rolls her eyes. “I know you’ve shunned men in the past, and the puker made you swear off kids, but do you want that kind of life, Dara? No judgment either way.”

We take our place in line behind a man wearing a fedora with a feather stuck in the side.

I consider Rusti’s question as she answers a text. Do I want to be a wife and mom?

The question feels wobbly in my heart.

I’ve never been a woman who’s prioritized having a family. I suppose I’ve always assumed that I would get married someday. I’ve never been in a relationship where I considered such a thing, so I haven’t really given it much thought. And kids haven’t been on my radar either. My life has been enough to keep me emotionally and financially strapped; there hasn’t been a lot of excess energy to dream about adding another human to my responsibilities.