I’m on the other side. I’m rebuilding and remaking my life. I love the freedom from madness. I love the opportunities unfurling before me.
I love my choices.
And I need to behave like I have them. I text the smartest person I know.
Lulu: What exactly did you mean when you said he had years in his eyes?
Mom: It feels like there’s a different question in there than the one you’re asking, so I’ll ask it. Why are you asking me this question?
Lulu: I shouldn’t be surprised that you answered a question with a question.
Mom: However else would I answer it? :)
Lulu: So. Years. Explain.
Mom: I said he had years in his eyes because he looks at you in a way that’s different from how a man looks at a woman he’s simply attracted to.
I stare at the text message, trying to decode it. But it’s almost too much, the notion she’s presenting. I can’t conceive of years. All I know is he kissed me like a man possessed. But what possessed him?
The idea of years is inconceivable. He’s dated other women. He was engaged, for crying out loud. He can’t possibly have wanted me for years, so I decide that he hasn’t, and I deal with only the here and now.
And that mesmerizing kiss.
Lulu: We kissed yesterday.
Mom: WAY TO BURY THE LEDE!
Lulu: I was teeing you up. :)
Mom: This is huge!
Lulu: Is it?
Mom: I presume you don’t go around kissing random men for kicks?
Lulu: I haven’t kissed anyone in years. I haven’t dated anyone since my marriage ended. You know that. So, what happens next?
Mom: What does your heart say? What do you want? Was it just a random kiss? Or was it a kiss that leads to more late-night bookstore visits and dinners with your mother?
My face flushes as I read the last lines, like I’ve been busted.
And I have.
The kiss won’t lead to late-night bookstore visits and dinners with my mom, because late-night bookstore visits and dinners with my mom were what led to the kiss.
So were museum visits.
And nights out at The Pub.
And text messages.
And time. Spending time with Leo.
That’s the cause, and the kiss was the effect.
I want more of the effect. So much more.
As I reflect back on the last month, I can see with my twenty-twenty vision that we’ve been spinning toward that kiss since I bumped into a chocolate fountain and found myself on top of him. I recall every second of the kiss, reliving the tingles that swept over me, the hum under my skin, the joy that seemed to radiate in my bones. The joy of possibility. Of a new kind of connection.
But I’m not entirely sure how to sum all that up to fit into one category of kissing. Still, I try my best when I write back to her.
Lulu: Would you think I was a complete cheeseball if I told you it was magical?
Mom: I’d think you were the daughter I raised. There are no better kisses than the kind that are magical. The kind that make your toes tingle.
Lulu: That’s exactly the kind we had. But I feel like I’d be stupid to pursue anything, given that I’m contracted with his company. I shouldn’t mess around with this chance in my career. Don’t you think?
Mom: I think your career is a precious thing and ought to be handled with care.
Lulu: So it’s settled. I choose chocolate over kisses?
Mom: Is that the choice?
Lulu: I thought that’s what you were saying.
Mom: I’m not going to tell you what to do. The heart wants what the heart wants.
Lulu: And you always taught me both to listen to mine and not be fooled by it.
