Me: I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately.
Jonas: Wow. I didn’t expect to hear from you.
Me: I know it’s been a long time.
Jonas: You blew me off. A month ago.
So, no instant forgiveness this time. That was okay. I deserved that. And he deserved to know how sorry I was.
Me: You’re right. I did. It was really rude and I’m sorry. I understand if you don’t want to get together again. No matter what was happening in my life, you didn’t deserve that. So I just wanted to apologize.
I wanted to do more than apologize, but that was the most important thing, so I left it at that.
Jonas: What do you want from me, Libby?
Me: You were a really good friend to me when I needed it. You were a gentleman and I’m sad that my life got in the way of us getting to know each other better. I take responsibility for that. So, I guess I just want you to know that, and to know that if you’re willing to give me a second chance, I’d take it in a heartbeat. But I completely understand if you can’t.
My hands shook when I pressed send on that text.
Jonas: I kissed you. And then you had an emergency. And then you wouldn’t answer my calls.
Me: I know. I’m sorry.
Jonas: That doesn’t make it better.
Me: I know. That’s why I’ve been having such a hard time working up the courage to reach out. I know it was inexcusable.
Jonas: Thanks for saying that.
Me: So…is this your way of blowing me off? If so, that’s totally fair. I just figured I’d ask.
Jonas: Just…give me some time, okay?
Me: Of course.
It wasn’t what I’d hoped for, but it wasn’t total rejection either.
CHAPTER NINE
Having some distance from Sean and not having Jonas to talk to left me floundering the next week. I hadn’t been willing to tell Tara or Felicity about the situation with Jonas, so I was alone with my thoughts for the most part. I did text Sean to check up on him a couple times, and he called me at least once a day, sometimes asking me to play my beat-up piano for him since he couldn’t find anything good to listen to. I acquiesced but usually kept the calls fairly short. I needed the break from Sean. I needed room to breathe.
Solo/ensemble day came, and I found myself on a bus full of students as we traveled to the nearby university for the day. I schlepped my rolling suitcase full of sheet music from classroom to classroom as each student or group of students performed. We broke for lunch and I comforted a girl who was crying in the bathroom after receiving a score of three on her solo. I felt bad for her. She had stretched herself too thin, performing in a quartet, a trio, a small choir, and by herself. Unfortunately it was her solo that suffered, and she took it really hard.
I texted Felicity that evening and told her about the student crying in the bathroom.
Felicity: Do you think it’s requisite in life that all girls have at least one crying-in-the-bathroom experience?
Me: Sounds about right. Though I had a lot more than one.
Felicity: You? Crying over music?
Me: Ha. No. Me crying over boys.
Felicity: Ah. That makes much more sense.
The next few days were a relief and a disappointment. I was happy to have the work and stress of my students’ competition over, but having more time just highlighted the fact that I had yet to hear from Jonas. Not that I blamed him. If he chose never to respond, that would be completely understandable. But I desperately hoped that he would.
♪♫♪
I texted Naomi as I ate dinner by myself on Monday, lamenting the status of my love life. She commiserated with me as I complained about the difficulties I was now entrenched in due to my complicated friend.
Then my phone lit up with Jonas’s name and I lit up with nerves and squeaky girly feelings. I abandoned the text thread and accepted the call.
“Hi,” I answered.
“So, about that cowboy hat…”
It took me a moment to recognize the reference, then I sputtered a laugh as relief washed through me.
“If you’d be up for going back to Roy’s, I got one for each of us.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised and delighted.
“Yours is pink.”
I snorted. “And what color is yours?”
“Charcoal gray.”
“So you’re classy and I’m sassy?”
“I like the sound of that.”
“When did you have in mind?” Tonight? Please let it be tonight. I’d waited long enough to see him again. So right now would be the optimal time.
“Sunday night?”
Six days. Not ideal, but I could roll with it.
“It’s a date.”
I hung up a few minutes later and leaned back into my couch cushions with a sigh. Jonas had forgiven me. He was going to take me out.
♪♫♪
Tara came over on Sunday to help me raid my closet in preparation for my date. She slid one hanger at a time across the rod as she talked. “So what look are we aiming for? Are you going full-on honky tonk? Should I be looking for flannel and denim?”
I snorted. “There’s not a dress code.”
“Just checking.” She pulled out a top and tossed it to me without looking. It hit me in the face and I tried it on. Once we settled on an outfit, we sent photos to Felicity for approval. She told me to switch earrings and wear a shorter skirt. I switched the earrings.
Before Tara left, she gave me a huge hug. “I’m so excited for you! I hope you have an amazing time.”
Jonas knocked at six thirty on the dot, and when I opened the door, I saw that he was indeed wearing a charcoal-gray cowboy hat. One that was clearly meant for a child. It perched precariously on his head.
“I was right,” I said, leaning on the door frame and looking him up and down. “You are classy as can be.”
“Why, thank you.” He held his hat in place while he bowed his head in thanks and then pulled a fuchsia hat from behind his back and set it on my head. “Gorgeous,” he commented. “Ready to go?”
I grabbed my purse and off we went to Roy’s, where we left the hats in the car because I had no desire to insult people who wore genuine cowboy hats. The food was great and the band was good enough to dance to, which was all I really cared about. We stayed for nearly three hours, eating, dancing and listening.
As we walked out to the car, Jonas’s gait seemed off, almost like he was limping.
“Are you okay?” I asked, pointing my eyes at his knee.
“Old injury. Sometimes it likes to wake up and bark at me.”
I furrowed my brow. What kind of injury? “Did we dance too much?”
“I’m fine,” he said with a laugh, like he found my concern adorable, which felt a little condescending. “Dancing with you is worth it.”
Okay, so maybe it hadn’t been condescending.
“Where to now?” He opened my car door. “Do I need to take you home?”