Page 31 of The Blessing

Never wanting to miss an opportunity to show-off Grey to her wealth of friends—Mother is more than happy to watch him for the evening. My days off usually free my mother’s days up since I don’t need her to watch Grey—but tonight she’s having a dinner party and wanted to present her grandson to everyone who hasn’t already met him. At least, that’s what my dad said when I spoke to him on the phone this morning. As soon as I told him about my date with Ronnie, he became just as excited as I fucking am. He gave me suggestions as to where I should take her and ideas of what we should do after dinner. I felt fucking embarrassed since he was speaking to me as if I were a teenager going on his very first date, but I appreciated the advice since I had no idea where the fuck to go.

I’ve got a good chunk of money to take Ronnie out on a “proper” date. Some of it is money I’ve put aside for “safe keeping,” while another chunk of it is money my dad insisted on transferring into my bank account for tonight. I feel a little humiliated about taking money from my dad, but I guess he believes I deserve it because I’ve taken “such good care” of his grandson. Or at least, that’s what he told me before transferring the cash. Maybe he’s just desperate for me to finally find a girl, or maybe he just wants me to be happy. Whatever the reason—I’m grateful for him.

As soon as I drop off Grey at my parents’ house, I come back to my apartment to spend some time getting ready. I feel like a fucking girl as I fuss over what I’m going to wear, but I want to look nice for her tonight. I select a navy blue button-up—it’s one of the few shirts I own that doesn’t have any holes from cigarette burns—and a pair of jeans that I haven’t ruined by wearing to work. I should probably go shopping for a new wardrobe, but I don’t have any extra money for that right now. I’ve got an apartment to pay for and Grey to provide for. Any extra money I have gets spent on the baby; whether it’s buying him clothes, toys, books, or a movie I think he’ll like. It’s hard to justify spending any money on myself when I know his face will light up when I give him something new. I know I shouldn’t overindulge him too much, but he’s mine to indulge. Hell, he’s been through enough in his short life, so, I believe he’s entitled to be spoiled once and a while.

I shave my five o’clock shadow and try my best to tame my unruly hair. I don’t want to look like a giant fuck-up, although, I know Ronnie doesn’t see me that way. At least I hope she doesn’t and this isn’t a fucking pity date to her. As much as I hate myself most of the time, I shouldn’t think so poorly of her. If she didn’t want to date me—she wouldn’t date me. Maybe I can talk about my self-contempt at one of my therapy sessions. I scheduled an appointment for early this week and I have no idea what the fuck to expect. I have a shit-ton of problems to discuss, so I don’t know how this therapist is going to “fix me.” Hell, I don’t even know what’s really wrong with me. I have no idea when my self-hatred began, or where it could’ve possibly stemmed from, but there’s this constant feeling of inferiority that’s always nagging at me. Like there’s this little annoying fucking voice in my head which constantly reminds me of all my shortcomings and every single set-back I’ve ever had. I’m sure it’s not healthy, but how can I ignore a voice that sounds so logical?

I decide to shake off the feelings which validate my self-doubt and focus all my energy on having a good night with my girl. Well, she isn’t my girl. At least, not yet. I know my baggage won’t be attractive to everyone, but, Ronnie seems to know what’s inside my heart as though it’s a matching puzzle piece of her own. Just thinking about her puts a smile on my face. It’s so nice to have that sort of connection with someone; I never thought it was possible for me before now.

I finish getting ready, rolling the sleeves of my dress shirt up to showcase my tattoos before I give myself one final once-over in the bathroom mirror. I can’t believe how fucking excited I look. Maybe I’m just not used to seeing myself this happy. Tonight, I’ve got a date with a beautiful woman and I’ll be damned if I fuck it up. I’ve got plenty to be happy about. We’re going to Abejas, which is a short drive away in Golden, and afterward we’re seeing a movie. I’m going to be a perfect gentleman in hopes that my good behavior will make her fall for me even more. I’m not going to try any shit with her; I’m making it my mission to treat her like a princess. After giving myself a little pep-talk, I lock up my apartment then cross the hall to knock on her door.

She appears at the door a few seconds later looking like sin incarnate. Jesus, she takes my breath away. It’s like I’m seeing her for the very first time. She looks so innocent, yet, so fucking sexy. She’s dressed in a light green dress, topped with a jean jacket perfect for the early September weather. It fits her body like a glove. I give myself a moment to appreciate her curves before realizing that I’m gawking at her like a complete asshole.

“Is this all right for where we’re going?” she asks, obviously unsure of herself as she plays with the bottom of her dress, which lands a good few inches above her knee.

“It’s perfect, Ronnie.” Hell, it’s more than perfect. I don’t know how I’m going to keep my hands to myself. “You ready to get going?”

She blushes and goes to grab her purse before hurrying back to me. Although I’m doing my best to be a gentleman, I can’t help but notice the way her tits bounce with her movements. I lick my lips before I can stop myself, and step back into the hallway before I get any ideas I can’t act on. I fist my hands at my side as I feel her walk up to me. She smiles, causing my entire body to relax, and reaches out to take my hand in hers.

“I’ve been thinking about tonight all day,” she says as we walk out to the parking lot to my truck. “I did manage to get a lot done today, though. I guess I was just really well rested after last night.”

I nearly choke on air at her comment. “Same here.” I want to say “babe” but think that it’s just too soon considering she’s not actually my girl—yet. “Maybe we can do it again?”

She laughs loudly and squeezes my hand. “We can sleep together whenever you want, Trev.”

“You shouldn’t say that to me,” I say, my voiced strained, before opening the passenger door for her. “It’s going to give me certain ideas and I’m trying my best to do things the right way.”

She pauses for a moment and gazes over at me where I’ve gotten into the driver’s seat, before saying, “I know you are, Trev, and I really appreciate it.”

The truck roars to life, loudly playing a song from a playlist I’m certain Ronnie isn’t going to like. Aurelio Voltaire fills my truck and I gaze over to my date to gauge her reaction. When I move to change it, she stops me, waving my hand away from the dial while saying, “It’s fine. I’m curious about what sort of music you listen to.”

I shrug, keeping it on, although, she doesn’t strike me as the girl who’d like a dark cabaret band. The ride is shorter than I’d imagine, so we end up listening to my playlist the entire drive. I keep shooting curious looks her way, wondering what she’s thinking as she listens to the different songs. She’s smiling, so I assume she’s enjoying them. I decide that when we’re heading to the movie theater, I’ll let her pick what we listen to.

“What band is this?”

“Coheed and Cambria,” I say, earning a smile of approval from her.

“They’re really good,” she comments as she reaches for the dial to turns up the volume.

So far, I’ve learned that not only does she love classic and independent rock, but she’s also into skate punk and even fucking ska. Could a woman be more perfect for me? Being with her is like a dream and I’m afraid that one day I’ll wake up and realize none of it was real. I just can’t believe a woman like Ronnie exists in the world. She’s probably original—one of a fucking kind; she’s just so perfect for me I can’t imagine there’s another girl out there like her. I wonder if she thinks I’m perfect for her, as well. Maybe I was wrong when I imagined the type of guy she would want to be with. I thought she’d be into a mature, wealthy, and handsome fucker—but maybe I’m her type, after all. Hell, she’s on a date with me, so that should count for something.

By the time we arrive at the restaurant, I’m feeling confident about the way this is going to go. I park and jump out of my truck to scurry around to open Ronnie’s door for her. I’m eager to start this night off right. As soon as she steps out, she slips her hand in mind. Her palm is warm and a little slick, causing me to wonder if she’s just as nervous as I am. She doesn’t look it, but then again, she always looks beautiful and incredibly collected.

My chest swells with pride as we walk into the restaurant. It’s fucking incredible and I can’t believe I’m actually taking her here. She looks surprised as we take in the prestigious décor. She’s practically glowing at my side as we’re ushered to our reserved table in the corner. I’m glad I had the foresight to make a reservation because this restaurant is apparently always booked to capacity. As soon as we sit down we’re presented with menus and the wine list. My body tenses as I look over the choices; I feel sick as I realize how fucking desperately I desire a drink. What I wouldn’t give for a bottle of wine. Fuck, I know something I wouldn’t give up for any alcohol: Grey and Ronnie. If I fall back into my old habits I know I’ll lose them both. I was a mess when I was constantly drunk and I know I can’t go back to that shit. I push the drink menu aside and look up to find Ronnie looking curiously at me. What do I tell her? “Hey, Ronnie. Did you know that I used to be a drunk?”I shudder at the thought.

“Are you all right, Trev?” she asks, reaching across the table to hold my hand in hers.

I feel ashamed. I don’t want her to know about this part of me yet. I don’t want to potentially ruin what we have. What if she rejects me once she finds out? I don’t know if I could deal with that.

“Trev, it’s all right if you don’t want to order a drink. I don’t really drink much and if you don’t either that’s completely okay with me.”

I give her a tight smile and squeeze her hand like a lifeline. “It’s just—” I stop, not knowing if I should be telling her this. I just don’t want secrets between us. She needs to know. “It’s just that I’ve had problems with alcohol in the past.” I sound so fucking ashamed of myself. I am ashamed.

“I understand,” she says after a pregnant silence. “I’ve watched people struggle with addictions. I know it’s hard. Just know that having a problem like that doesn’t make you weak—nor does it make me think any less of you, Trevor. You’re overcoming it and you should be proud of yourself.”

I snort. I don’t feel proud of myself and I tell her so.

“Well, I’m proud of you.”

She doesn’t say anything else, but she doesn’t have to. I haven’t bared my entire soul to this woman, yet, she already accepts me—needing no explanation. She sees me. She looks at me and she sees past the rough exterior, past my bullshit past, and manages to see me in a way I can’t see myself. What on Earth did I do to deserve a woman like her? She’s so beyond my reach, and yet, she’s right here. The only way this couldn’t work out is if I fuck it up. Knowing she accepts me like this… I know there’s no way I can let myself ruin what we have begun.