Grin and Beard It(57)
“Close your eyes.” Susie tilted my chin up and applied her magic brush to my eyelids. “You should find out.”
“Find out?”
“You should ask him, find out what’s up.”
“What’s the point? He’s not interested anymore.” Asking Jethro why he didn’t like me enough to put up with my fame didn’t sound like a conversation that would go well for me.
“You don’t know that for sure. You’re still interested. I can tell. It’s all over your face and how you talk about him. You sound like my daughter the night she met her husband, all droopy and sad and happy at the same time.”
She was right. I was still interested. I was still mega interested.
“I guess I am, but thinking about him hurts.” I pressed my lips together because my chin wobbled. Susie stopped applying my eye makeup. I think we were both surprised by my honesty.
“Oh, hon. You were falling for him.” Her words were soft and empathetic.
I shook my head, keeping my eyes shut tight, not wanting to see her sympathy. “I’m not so ridiculous as to think I have a broken heart. We didn’t know each other enough for real roots to have formed, just imaginary roots based on surface information. Topsoil roots.”
“What’s a topsoil root?”
“You know, roots based on wishing, not reality.”
“But you’re still heartsick, babe.”
“But it’s not real. It’s because I like the idea of him, of having a safe haven, a person who is mine, who I can count on.” I also knew the promise of him was made even more potent by knowing his history as told by Hank. “He was such a grown up, so capable and steady. And so handsome.” I added this last part with a pathetic and pining moan, opening my eyes. Susie was watching me. Her arms were crossed and she smiled a small, commiserating smile.
Yep. His epic good looks without succumbing to the adorable label had made him a man-unicorn in my mind. Or a merman. Or a Loch Ness Monstman. He was a mystical creature.
“Capable and steady, huh?” Her smile grew. “Does he have any older brothers?”
I snorted softly. “No. He’s the oldest. But he has five younger brothers.”
Her eyebrows ticked up. “Think any of them would be interested in a fifty-year-old grandmother from the Bronx?”
“All of them, if they have any brains.”
She grinned, then snickered, shaking her head. “Fine. So your guy is a wildlife ranger. He’s handsome and steady and doesn’t care about your fame.”
“He does care about it, it’s why he ditched me.”
“Stop saying that.” She pointed one of her brushes at me. “You don’t know that for sure. He sounds like a dream, and he’s planted himself in your topsoil. I still say you need to ask him what happened.”
I studied my fingernails because I couldn’t hold Susie’s perceptive gaze and say what I was about to say. “I liked him, Susie. I liked him a lot. And it’s an intangible like. Everything was so natural and unforced between us. I slipped into it unconsciously because liking him was so effortless. Being around him was both easy and exciting.”
“You’re worried you’ll never have a similar connection with anyone else.”
I nodded.
“But, hon. There are so many fish in the sea, and you’re so talented. You’re amazing.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged, then lifted my eyes to hers. “But how does someone like me meet a guy? I can’t take out an ad on OkCupid. I can’t go on Tinder—”
Now she snorted. “Trust me, nothing but bags of dicks on Tinder.”
“Even so, I’ll never know, because those outlets aren’t open to me.”
“I had no idea you wanted to be in a relationship so badly.”
“I didn’t either.” I shrugged, feeling oddly helpless, like I had a gaping hole in my chest and no means to fill or patch it.
Her blue gaze studied me for a long moment before she said, “Or maybe it’s not just any relationship you want. Maybe it’s a relationship with this guy, with your Ranger Jethro.”
I wanted to bury my face in my hands but I couldn’t, she’d already done too much of my makeup.
The conversation had grown too solemn and I needed levity, so I scolded her. “You aren’t helping my depression, Susie. You’re making me feel worse. You’d be a terrible therapist.”
“Please,” she rolled her eyes and bent to apply shadow under my cheekbones, “I’m a great therapist. You’re just a bad patient. Take my advice and you’ll be happy. End of story.”