The Smart One and the Pretty One

by Claire Lazebnik

  “It’ll be your epitaph,” he said with a whispery laugh. She felt him lift the hair up off her neck, felt his mouth moving against the hidden skin deep under there and didn’t want him to stop. Too soon, he was lifting his head. His arms still around her, he said, “Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “My place.” He released her arms, took her by the hand, led her toward the door.

  She felt drugged, stupefied by a long kiss and a romantic embrace. In her stupor, it was easy to let him lead her. He squeezed her hand and released it, leaving her at the door for a moment while he went back to gather up the dress he had found for her and the clothes she had been wearing all day, which she had forgotten about and would have left there. He plucked a few more items of clothing off of racks and out of boxes on his way back to her and piled them in his arms. “You can try this all on later,” he said.

  She stared at the mound of clothing he held until he nudged her with his shoulder and indicated that she should open the door. She did. They went out and she pushed the button for the elevator.

  “You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden,” he said when they were inside. The stack of clothing in his arms rose up to his chin. Ava wished he weren’t holding them, that he was holding her. Bereft of his touch and the mild delirium it aroused, she could feel reason returning, and with it, cold hard doubt.

  He was still watching her, his dark brown eyes searching her face from above his armful of richly colored fabrics. “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m a little overwhelmed at the moment,” she said, unable to meet his intense gaze.

  “It’s a hard transition,” he said. “That stone to flesh thing.”

  “It’s not that.” The elevator door opened before she could explain—not that she really knew how to explain her sudden hesitation, anyway. They nodded at the security guard, who raised his eyebrows at the pile of clothing in Russell’s arms but didn’t say anything. Ava wondered if he noticed she was dressed in different clothes than she had arrived in, and what he would make of that if he did.

  Russell dropped his bundle in the trunk of his car while Ava let herself into the passenger seat. He got in, closed his door, and looked at her for a moment, smiling. He leaned over to kiss her again, but she pulled back—just a bit, but enough to make him stop. “What’s wrong?” he said.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she said, feeling in her strained cheeks how forced her smile was. “But now I’m thinking I should probably go home instead of to your place.”

  “Why?” he said. “You hear your mother calling again?”

  “I need to think about this a little more.”

  “I thought you said you were capable of spontaneity.”

  “I am. But being with someone—” She hesitated. “You’re going to make fun of me again, tell me I’m a Puritan. But it has to mean something to me.”

  “Hey, I gave you free clothing. Tell me that’s not meaningful.”

  “I’m serious.”

  He pulled her hair lightly. “Well, don’t be. Relax.”

  “I just wonder.”

  “What?” he said and, with an impatient sigh, let go of her hair and swiveled forward to start the car. “What do you wonder about, Nickerson?”

  “Well,” she said, “for one thing, you only seem to be attracted to me when I’m dressed a certain way. Your way.”

  “That’s stupid,” Russell said. “I’d be attracted to you no matter what you wore. In fact, you could be naked, Ava, and I’d be attracted to you. Really. I mean that.”

  She laughed in spite of herself, in spite of the doubt, in spite of the desire that his words sent twanging along her body. She squeezed her knees together. “That doesn’t get at the root of the problem,” she said.

  “Does it matter?” He put his hand on her leg. “Man, that’s quality fabric,” he said, his fingers moving along the length of her thigh.

  “I think I should just go home,” she said, staring at his hand.

  “You’re making a mistake.” He took his hand away and shifted into reverse. “Look,” he said, “no pressure. We can go to my house and just talk, if that’s what you want.”

  She studied the side of his face as he backed the car out of the space and drove out of the garage. She said, “If Lauren had come tonight instead of me, would you be inviting her back to your place now?”

  “If Lauren had come instead of you, I’d never have gotten her out of the Walk-In,” he said. “They’d find us there years from now, starved to death.”

  “Funny,” she said. “But you’re avoiding the question.”

  “Ava, what can I offer you to get you to come back to my house with me?”

  “Not clothing.”

  “How about a wonderful evening of getting to know each other better in all sorts of ways?”

  “You’re very slick,” Ava said. “You know that, don’t you?”

  “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

  She said drily, “I’m sure it has its advantages.”

  He glanced sideways at her, then back at the road. “What the hell happened to you? Fifteen minutes ago, you were my sweet Galatea come to life. What made you turn back into stone?”

  “I’m just being careful.”

  He braked at a stop sign more roughly than was necessary. “Ever hear the phrase ‘two steps forward, one step backward’? You define it.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe I’m right to be cautious. I’m not the one who’s been divorced twice already.”

  He flinched. “Some might call that a low blow.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ava said. She chewed on the side of her thumb. “I wasn’t trying to be mean. But you can’t blame me for being careful around you.”

  “Why?” he said. “You scared I might spring a surprise wedding on you? That I’ve got a judge waiting back at my place to bind us in holy matrimony against your will? I promise you, there is nothing I want less right now than to be married again.”

  “I’m just saying maybe you’re not the one who should set the pace in a relationship.”

  He thought about that for a moment, then sighed. “You might have a point,” he said. “I don’t particularly like your point, but I can’t deny its validity.”

  “Thank you.”

  There was a pause. “So . . . back to your place?” He glanced over at her for confirmation.

  She nodded.

  “Oh well,” he said. “At least I’ll get a good night’s sleep.”

  Ava had won the argument. So why did she feel so disappointed?

  When Ava entered the apartment, a light suddenly went on and Lauren was sitting there, arm still raised, fingers on the lamp switch. “I hope you have an explanation for this, young lady,” she said. “Coming home this late without so much as a phone call. I’ve been worried sick.”

  “No you haven’t,” Ava said. “And it’s not that late.” She was carrying the clothing bundled up in her arms. She dropped it all on the floor.

  Lauren snuggled down into her blanket. “You’re right. I wasn’t actually worried at all.”

  “I thought you’d still be out,” Ava said, coming over to her.

  “Nope. Been home for hours.” She narrowed her eyes. “Hey, why are you wearing different clothing than you left home in? Different and nicer? What kind of evening was it?”

  She pulled her feet up to make room for Ava, who sat down on the sofa and told Lauren about the trip to Russell’s office, about finding the clothing, about trying it on.

  “Did he try to sneak a peek?” Lauren asked thoughtfully, like she was trying to figure something out.

  “Of course not.” A beat. “He talked about sneaking a peek.”

  “That sounds promising.”

  “Things got . . . interesting,” Ava admitted.

  “I knew it,” Lauren crowed. “I knew if I pushed you two together, you’d catch on fire.”

  “That’s overstating it,” Ava said. “We kissed a little. That’s all.”

&n
bsp; “Why was that all?”

  “He wanted me to come back to his place. But I said no.”

  Lauren groaned and let her head fall back against the sofa with a thud. “Why? Why would you say no? You got something better to do? Like watching TV and sipping tea?”

  “I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right.”

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do.” She thought. “Most of the time.” She thought some more. “Some of the time.”

  “That’s good enough,” Lauren said. “You should have gone back to his place.”

  Ava shook her head. “I don’t trust him.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s just . . . He didn’t come on to me at all until I was dressed up in the clothes he’d picked out. Don’t you think that’s weird? Like it’s either shallow or perverted?”

  “Oh, relax,” Lauren said. She wriggled up into a full sitting position. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe he just wanted to see how beautiful you are under those dowdy clothes you’re always wearing? Or that he was having fun helping you try on clothes and that’s what turned him on? Why do you always have to put a negative spin on things?”

  “I’m just trying to be careful,” Ava said. “The guy doesn’t have the greatest track record with women. Remember Corinne? And the ex-wives? The fact that we were even out alone together was so random. I mean, if you hadn’t bagged us . . .”

  Lauren beamed. “That was brilliant of me, wasn’t it?”

  “I’m just not convinced he likes me in any deep, personal way. It still feels like we barely know each other.”

  “So?” Lauren said. “You can sleep with a guy you don’t know that well—it’s one of the best ways of getting to know him.”

  “I can’t do that,” Ava said. “I have to like a guy and trust him and feel like it could maybe lead somewhere—”

  “You’re a prude.”

  “No I’m not,” she said seriously. “I like sex. It’s just not casual for me, ever.”

  “Poor Russell,” Lauren said. “He has such a long uphill battle with you. But he’ll get there. How did you leave things?”

  “Very awkwardly. We did the cheek-kissing thing and said we’d see each other soon. We’re both busy this weekend, and then his mom comes into town, so we didn’t actually schedule anything.” She yawned. “Oh, that reminds me: he wants to bring his mother to visit Mom and Dad. Think they’ll go for it?”

  “I’ll ask Mom on Tuesday.” Lauren’s eyes drifted over to the pile of clothing by the door. “Can I see what he gave you?”

  “Sure.”

  Lauren slipped out from under the blanket and ran across the room. She brought the big pile back over to the sofa and held up one piece after another. She examined it all carefully and professionally. “He’s got a pretty good eye. There are some nice pieces here. I don’t like this one so much”—she tossed aside a chartreuse boatneck sweater—“it’s a bad color for you. For anyone. But this sweater dress is fantastic. And what are those pants you’re wearing? I noticed them as soon as you came in. They’re gorgeous.”

  “I don’t know. Pants.” Ava put a pillow behind her head. “How was your date, by the way? You haven’t said anything about it.”

  Lauren was folding the clothing neatly and swiftly. Ava had noticed in the past that her sister always took good care of clothing, even though she could be a slob in other ways. “There’s nothing to say. It was so short, I’m not sure it even counted as a date.”

  “Did anything go wrong?”

  “No, he just had to go take care of his mother.” She held up a skirt Ava hadn’t tried on, a blue pleated miniskirt. “Hey, can I have this?”

  “Sure. It’s not my kind of thing.”

  “I wish I had gone with you,” Lauren said, a little wistfully. “I mean, not really, because I’m glad the fix-up worked and I wanted you guys to be alone together. But I would have liked to have picked out some stuff for myself. Do you think Russell would take me back there another time?”

  “Probably. Although he kept saying things about how his days working there were numbered, so you’d better ask him soon.” Ava yawned again and stretched. “I should go to bed. You need the bathroom before I close the door?”

  Lauren was still busy sorting through the clothing. “Don’t like the way they finished the seams on this one.” She held up a shimmery dark pink top. “Can I have this too?”

  “Actually,” Ava said sheepishly, “I was thinking maybe I’d wear that the next time I see Russell.”

  “Good girl,” Lauren said. “Actually making an effort. Can I borrow it after that?” She held up another top. “And this too?”

  “Why don’t we just share it all?” Ava said.

  Lauren gave a little leap of excitement and threw her arms around her sister. “You’re the best,” she said.

  “But only when I share my clothes with you.”

  “Only when you share these clothes with me,” Lauren corrected her.

  Chapter 12

  How would you feel if Lana Markowitz came for a visit on Sunday morning?” Lauren asked her mother when they were in the car on the way to the hospital the following Tuesday.

  “Is it a real possibility?” Nancy asked. “Or a hypothetical question?”

  “Why?” Lauren asked. “Are they different answers?”

  “Maybe.” Nancy lolled her head back against the headrest and gazed absently at the windshield. “If it’s hypothetical, then of course I’d love to see an old friend. If she’s actually going to be in town, I’d have to think about it more carefully. As you know, I had mixed feelings about Lana.”

  “She’ll actually be in town. Russell asked if he could bring her over—apparently, she really wants to see you. Maybe her feelings aren’t as mixed as yours?”

  Nancy was silent for a moment. “I think it would be nice,” she said finally.

  “Really?”

  “Yes. For one thing, I’ll probably be stuck at home anyway.” She sat up straight in the bucket seat. “And also, it’s a weird thing, but I’ve been feeling kind of nostalgic lately. Something about being sick is making me think more about the past.” She patted Lauren’s knee. “I love my big adult daughters, but lately I find myself thinking a lot about you when you were little. And missing that.”

  “I could let you burp me now and then, if it would help.”

  “That’s kind of you,” her mother said.

  “So somehow all this nostalgia means brunch with the Markowitzes?”

  “Yes,” her mother said. “Just make sure they bring bagels. Lots and lots of bagels.”

  “Very funny,” said Lauren, who had personally bagged and frozen the three dozen leftover bagels from the previous brunch.

  They drove in silence for a moment or two. Then Nancy said, “Are you going to introduce me to him today?”

  “To who?”

  “To whom,” Nancy said. “That guy you’ve been hanging out with at the hospital when you think I’m asleep.”

  “You know what?” Lauren said. “You’re sneaky. You’re a sneaky mother.”

  “I wasn’t asleep when you came home late at night during high school either,” Nancy said. “All those years, I was up and listening to you as you stumbled around, drunk or wasted—”

  “Mom!” Lauren said. “I never did stuff like that.”

  Nancy said calmly, “Never, sweetie? Really? Never?”

  Lauren shot her a look—as venomous a one as she could manage without taking her eyes off the road for too long. “Infrequently enough to round down to never.”

  “Maybe it was just exhaustion?” Nancy suggested. “You were probably at the library studying until so late that your poor little eyes were worn out and that’s why they were so bloodshot, and you were so tired from all that studying that you could hardly stand up, let alone walk straight—”

  “Sneaky and a little bit nasty,” Lauren muttered.

  “It’s the cancer talking,” he
r mother said. “I’m really very nice, you know, but the cancer sometimes says these nasty little evil things. I just can’t stop it from taking over now and then.”

  “Good thing we’re going to the hospital to poison it right out of you, then.”

  “Once it’s gone,” Nancy said, “I’ll go back to being the good, sweet, kind mother I really am. But until then—”

  “Sneaky and nasty?”

  “Learn to live with it.” She touched Lauren lightly on her arm. “So are you going to introduce me to your friend or not?”

  “Sure, I’ll introduce you,” Lauren said. “He’s a weird guy, though. Don’t expect too much.”

  “I’m just glad you’ve found someone to talk to at the hospital. It must be pretty boring for you, keeping me company there all these long, endless afternoons.”

  “I don’t mind,” Lauren said. “I’m glad I can do it.”

  “I hate that you have to.” Her mother pushed the visor down in front of her with an irritated snap. “I hate that everyone’s life is getting disrupted because of me.”

  “I like it,” Lauren said. “Honestly, I do. I like getting you all to myself for a few hours. I’ve never had that before.”

  “You had three years alone with me after Ava went off to college,” her mother said. “And you were rude and sullen the entire time. You never said a word to me except the occasional, ‘Do you honestly expect me to eat that?’”

  “I was a teenager,” Lauren said. “I was just doing my job.”

  “You did it very well.”

  There was a pause. In the sudden quiet, Lauren could hear the car radio, very faintly—it must have been left on, but at a low volume. It sounded like someone was whispering secrets in the backseat.

  Nancy broke the almost-silence. “Ava said you went on a date last weekend with the guy from the hospital.”

  “I can’t believe she told you that!”

  “Why?” Nancy said. “Isn’t it true?”

  “See, this is the problem with living with your sister. No privacy.”

  “You moved in with her. So how was the date?”

  “It was okay.”

  “Ava said it ended very early.”