Flirting with Fifty

“I’ll be fine. I’ll probably wear sunglasses in class, but my students have seen it before. It won’t be the first, or the last, time.” She clutched the door to her as if it were armor. “How did you even know where I lived?”

“Elizabeth gave me your address when I told her I wanted to bring you lunch as I wasn’t sure you were eating.”

“You brought me lunch?”

He nodded. “Chicken salad on a croissant with a fruit cup. If it doesn’t sound good, just stick it in the fridge.”

Her expression wavered. “It actually sounds really good. Thank you.” She hesitated. “Want to share the sandwich with me?”

“I already ate, but I’d be happy to keep you company while you eat. I promise not to talk too much. Or at least, not to make you talk too much.”

She smiled grimly and stepped back into the shadowy hall. “Sounds like you’re familiar with migraines.”

“I don’t get them, but a friend did.” Jack entered the apartment, closing the door behind him before following her to her small living room where she took a seat on the couch, legs curling up under her. When Oliver was a boy he loved Peter Pan, and Jack had read him the novel Peter Pan over and over, and later he and Oliver had watched every movie version of Peter Pan and Captain Hook ever made; and at the moment, huddled into the corner of the couch, Paige reminded him of Tinker Bell with her light dimmed. “Do you want to eat now, or later?” he asked.

“I’ll eat some now. That way I can take some more medicine.”

“What are you drinking?”

“Iced tea.”

“Need a refill?”

“There’s a pitcher in the fridge.”

He topped off her iced tea while she nibbled on half of the croissant sandwich. Her small kitchen was spotless, as well as bright and welcoming, with a big glazed jug filled with sunflowers on the counter. Dozens of photos, handwritten notes, and cards covered the refrigerator. One heart-shaped stickie said, Love you, Mom, to the moon and back! The photographs were mostly of her and her daughters, and the daughters looked so much like her, they could all be sisters. He recognized Elizabeth with Paige in another photo. It was most definitely a very personal refrigerator door, decorated with expressions of love.

Paige had finished eating, and he put the container with the other half of the sandwich in the refrigerator before sitting down in a chair close to where she sat. He was no expert, but she did look better, sitting a little taller. “Medicine now?” he asked.

“I’ll take it in a bit. But thank you, you’re a very attentive caregiver.”

“I had years of practice.”

Her expression faltered. “I’m sorry—”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

“I should have been more sensitive.”

“It was years ago.”

“And yet it had to have been awful.”

“It was, but in hindsight, it was mostly unfair,” he said. “Mara was so young, and Oliver needed a mom.” Jack hesitated, picturing Paige’s refrigerator and how it was a testament of love. “But it also taught me resiliency, and the importance of living in the moment. Until then, I’d always projected ahead, endless plans for the future. Mara’s cancer taught me to embrace the now, because the present is the future, sometimes our only future.”

Despite the oversize sunglasses hiding half her face, he could feel her scrutiny. “What?” he asked.

“Just trying to figure you out.”

That piqued him. What was this? What game was she playing? Because even he was playing it now, pretending there was no past, pretending they hadn’t ever known each other. He knew she hurt today, knew she wasn’t feeling well, but his temper flared. He felt angry. Resentful. Jack didn’t like pretense. He didn’t like lies. Facades.

“You said a friend had migraines,” Paige said. “So, it wasn’t Mara?”

He bit back his frustration. “No, not Mara.”

“A girlfriend?”

“She was my girlfriend.” Normally he’d be amused, but he wasn’t amused right now. He wanted answers. He wanted the truth. But at the same time, it wasn’t fair to press her when she didn’t feel well. He’d come over to help, not make things more difficult.

“Tell me about her,” Paige said.

“Why?”

Her shoulders lifted, fell. “Just curious. But if it’s not something you want to discuss . . .”

“Camille’s a scientist, too, but we’ve never taught together. She’s based in Canada, and we’ve worked on a number of research projects together, but it’s been years since we were in a relationship.” He gave her a long, considering look. “Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“I just wonder how you do it all. Work, research, teaching, relationships.” Her lips pursed. “You must be better at time management than me.”

“It helped that Camille was a long-distance relationship. It freed up a lot of time.”

Paige laughed, the sound muffled, husky. “You prefer long-distance relationships.”

She said it as a statement, not a question, and he wasn’t sure if he was amused or annoyed. “I do stay busy, and I probably prefer special moments over the day-to-day engagement.”

“So, not getting married again,” she guessed.

“I don’t see a reason to marry. Not sure of the benefits.”

Paige leaned deeper into the couch, arms crossing over her chest. “I agree with you.”