He rolls us onto our sides and does just that. I doze off every so often, and I’m only half awake when he’s kissing me goodbye with orders to take care of myself while he’s gone. I have dreams about Marc as a little kid with a large, looming man beating him while I stand helplessly nearby. I wake with tears. It’s infuriating and equally heartbreaking to think about what he must’ve gone through as a child. He still struggles now, too. All you have to do is be around when his father calls and see how he tenses.
Overall, I guess he did turn out okay and I honestly don’t know if I can handle knowing more than what I already do. If Marc wanted to talk about it, I’d listen, but I’m not going to ask him about it unless it seems like I should.
I almost wish we were sick more often. Even though I’ve felt like an eighteen-wheeler ran me over a few times, it’s been nice to spend all this time with Marc. I already miss him. This sort of thing, the days apart, is something I never had to deal with when I was with Roger. Neither of us had jobs where we had to travel. We were never apart for longer than a day. With Marc, he travels regularly and the longer we’re together, the more I miss him when he’s gone. He’s only traveling for two games, and it feels like two games too many.
It’s nothing we can’t deal with, though. Or, rather, it’s nothing I can’t deal with. Marc probably misses me only a little, if at all, since he’s used to this kind of thing. For some reason, I grab my phone and check the date. The anniversary of Roger’s death is coming up soon. The urge to go see him is suddenly strong. I never did talk about Marc last time I was there since Scott showed up. That feels like something I should do, but it won’t be today.
“How are things going with you and Marc?” Sylvia asks when I’m finally feeling better and we’re out to lunch at Bagels and Butts. The guys came home this morning after two wins on the road against a pair of Canadian teams and we’re having our dinner tonight. Since I didn’t return to work until today because I didn’t start feeling better until yesterday afternoon, Sylvia didn’t want to wait until dinner to find out any juicy details. Meredith is also here.
“We’re fine.”
She huffs. “That’s pitiful. I want details. Are things still hot and steamy? Do you still want to spend every waking moment with him? Are you swapping secrets? Learning everything there is to know? Do you miss him terribly when he’s away? Are you dying to jump his bones the minute you see him?”
“Sylvia! Stop it. We’re just dating.”
“Seriously dating,” she corrects and I roll my eyes. “Don’t, Lizzy. You have to admit that you’re a little crazy about him. When I said his name earlier, you smiled. I think you’re more than smitten with him, and it’s easy to see he’s in lo—”
“Don’t you dare!” My eyes are about to pop out of my head and I clear my throat since I nearly screeched. I shake my head, oddly remembering a dream where Marc and I actually said those words, and NO. I am not prepared to think about this, especially with Roger’s anniversary right around the corner.
“It’s true,” Sylvia softly mutters.
“Stop it! One more word and I’m canceling the dinner.”
“Is it really that scary, Lizzy?” Meredith asks with confusion.
“Yes!” To think that Marc might lo— Nope. I can’t even think the word. I don’t know why it’s terrifying, but it is. This is just another reminder that he’s too good for me. He can’t, you know, without knowing all the facts about me, facts that I don’t know if I can tell him. Facts that are much worse than his past. It’s so much easier to think of us as something fun and as two people who are simply dating than something serious. “Marc doesn’t bring this up, so it would be great if you didn’t either.”
“I’m trying to prepare you because he will eventually.”
“No, he won’t.”
“He won’t,” Meredith says. “At least, I don’t think so. But I don’t think it would be a bad idea to make sure you clue him in on how much you like him from time to time.”
Clue him in? Like he doesn’t know?
“Marc seems like he doesn’t always believe you actually like him.” Meredith shrugs. “Nothing bad about reassuring him every now and then.”
“Marc has insecurities?” Sylvia asks with surprise. “Wow. Wouldn’t have ever thought that.”
“Yeah, me either,” Meredith agrees.
I sink in my chair. Maybe that’s a side effect from his father. I’m not always the friendliest person either.
“Do you want to help out with the fashion show at the end of the month?” Sylvia asks.
“What fashion show?”
She goes on to explain that the wives and girlfriends are putting together the event for charity, and since I’m now dating Marc, I can participate. I start shaking my head before she can finish telling me all the details. All I’d have to do at this point is show up and be in the show if I’d want, but no. “I’ll either attend with Marc or I’ll watch the girls for you that night, but I don’t think I’m ready to go whole hog like that.”
“Okay. I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.”
I haven’t even thought about how I could eventually be drawn into Marc’s job because I date him. That could be fun, but I don’t want to be involved until I’m comfortable with it. I tune out while they talk because my mind is already on tonight.
Marc wants to meet at his place for me to ride over with him and then stay the night. I packed an overnight bag this morning, so I wouldn’t have to go home first after work. He has the day off, so he should be home when I get there, too. Honestly, I’m hoping to have some time alone with him before we’re thrown into the chaos of Scott and Sylvia’s house.
When I pull into Marc’s driveway, I grin. He was sitting on the porch steps, but is coming to stand now that I’m here. He’s simply hot in dark denim jeans and a Rebels hoodie. By the time I turn the car off, grab my purse and my cell phone, and unbuckle my seatbelt, he’s opening the door and holding his hand out for me.
I take it, of course.