by Harper Bliss
“I kind of did, yeah.” Anna’s reminded me of Marsha, my neighbor in Queens, and I’m suddenly aware of how much I’ve missed her. I’ve been too busy getting Bookends off the ground to invite her up here—and too preoccupied with getting to know Anna. “Although it was all far less glamorous than on TV.”
“You must miss them,” Anna says, her voice small.
“Yeah,” I nod. “But I’ve been keeping myself busy. And I know I’ll make friends here eventually. Which reminds me…” I push Marsha from my mind. She’s only a few hours’ drive away. I’ll go into the city soon enough to catch up with everyone from my old life. “This weekend there’s the newcomers’ welcome drinks at Lenny’s.”
“Oh yeah. Mom will be there with bells on.”
“I was thinking of going. Would you like to go with me?”
“I’m not new to town. I was born here.”
I chuckle. “As my date?”
“I don’t think it’s the sort of event you take a date to,” Anna says. “You should go with Brooklyn.”
“I somehow doubt I’ll convince my teenage daughter to come with me.”
“Look, I’m sorry, but that’s too soon for me. I would like our next date to not be in a public place. Besides, my mother will be there, and she’ll want us to apply for a marriage license if she sees us together.”
“So you won’t come with me?” I give her an exaggerated look of sadness.
“It’s not my thing, Zoe.” She puts a hand on my knee. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you this weekend.”
“Date night on Friday?” I put my hand over hers.
“Oh… no, I can’t. I go to Lenny’s with Jamie and Sean every Friday night.”
“Every single Friday night of your life?” I drag my fingertip around one of her knuckles.
“Well, um, yeah. It’s what we do.”
“And… is it completely unfathomable to give up your weekly booze night to spend time with me?”
“Um, no, I suppose not.” Anna doesn’t sound too convinced.
“I need to check when the newcomers thing is.” I need to lighten the mood. “I’m not sure if it’s on Friday or Saturday, actually.”
“Whichever night you’re free, I’ll be free.” Anna smiles now. She shuffles a little closer.
“Thank you,” I whisper, then lean in so close our lips almost touch.
“Your lips are so…” Anna pauses, then, instead of saying anything else, kisses me. I kiss her back, because I don’t need to hear her say what she thinks of my lips. What she’s doing with them right now is making it abundantly clear how she feels about them.
Our tongues dance, and her hands move to my hair and she pulls me closer still. I lose myself in this kiss. I seem to have been waiting for it for a very long time.
“You’d rather drink beer with Sean and Jamie than do this?” I ask, jokingly, when we break, gasping for breath.
Anna just shakes her head and pulls me closer again.
4
Anna
“What’s going on?” Jamie asks. “You seem even more uptight than usual.”
“Mom’s going to be walking in here any minute now.” I roll my eyes.
“Ah, that time of the year,” Sean says. “When Mrs. G. likes to introduce herself to the very few people in Donovan Grove who haven’t yet had the pleasure of meeting her.” He squints at me. “Sometimes it’s so hard to believe you’re related to her, Anna.”
“I struggle with the notion every single day,” I say.
“Oh, come on, it’s fun when Mom’s here,” Jamie says. “She’s always the life of the party, whether there’s a party or not.” He chuckles.
“It’s just that… Zoe’s coming as well,” I say.
“I see,” Jamie says. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep Mom distracted.”
As if we summoned her by talking about her, the door opens and my mother walks into Lenny’s. She looks around the place and fixes her gaze on us, then heads straight over.
“My darling children,” she says, already in full performance mode. “My two beauties. Come here.” She makes a show of kissing us on both cheeks. “And Sean.” He isn’t spared her affection, although he looks as though he doesn’t mind in the slightest.
“Expecting a big turnout tonight, Sherry?” Sean asks.
Mom scrunches up her face. “Not really. The holiday season isn’t peak move-to-Donovan Grove time. But that’s all right.” She looks around again. “I don’t think anyone new has arrived yet, which gives me time to buy you guys a drink.”
She goes through the motions and soon we all find ourselves with fresh beers in our hands. I can’t keep my eyes from the door. When Zoe told me that the newcomers’ event was on Friday night, I was of half a mind to cancel my weekly standing date with my brother and Sean. But I didn’t—because I would never hear the end of it—leaving me to face my mother’s unpredictable nature when she’s among people.
“I haven’t seen you all week, Anna.” Mom gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “A lot of work?”
“Yeah.” I smile at her and wonder, again, whether she knows about Zoe and me. But if she did, she wouldn’t keep it to herself. At least I don’t think she would. That’s the thing with my mother—she can still end up surprising me. Even after all these years of being her daughter, I still can’t always read her.
I’ve asked Zoe not to engage in any public displays of affection, because that’s not how I want my mother to find out we’re dating. Ideally, I wouldn’t have to tell her anything yet. It’s way too soon to be telling anyone anything—which is one of the reasons it annoyed me so much that Zoe told Sean she got me a Valentine’s gift. I don’t want to jinx this by prematurely informing people—I have too many odds stacked against me already.
“She made a great cover this week, Sherry,” Sean says, surprising me. We’re not the type of colleagues to shower each other with compliments. We appreciate each other’s work in what I thought was a mutually agreed upon silence. “Were you feeling particularly inspired, Anna?” Oh. He’s egging me on. This is going to be a long night—and Zoe hasn’t even arrived yet.
“I had a good week,” I say drily, hoping my mother will hijack the conversation soon, as she tends to do. Instead, she looks at me funnily. Oh shit. She does know. How, though? How do people pick up on these things? I know she’s my mother but that doesn’t mean she has direct access to how I feel inside—far from it.
I realize I’m stuck in another anxiety thought loop, when the door opens, and someone I’ve never seen before walks in. This is my mother’s cue to tear herself away from us and greet the newcomer with an abundance of cackles and smiles.
“You gotta love Mom,” Jamie says.
“She should be the real mayor of DG,” Jamie says.
Jamie and I burst out laughing. I look at him, and he shakes his head. “That would be the worst idea ever.”
“Why?” Sean asks. “She’d get the votes.”
I stop listening because the door opens again and in walks Zoe. She has dressed up—it seems to be her thing. She’s wearing a very tight, cream-colored blouse with a whole lot of cleavage. Jesus Christ. Where did she think she was going? I take a sip of beer to get my bearings.
Sean and Jamie have both stopped weighing up my mother’s options as potential mayor of Donovan Grove.
Before Zoe even has the time to see me, she’s intercepted by my mother, who opens her arms wide to her, as though Zoe is already an official member of her family.
“I know I’m not allowed to call her ‘foxy’ any longer,” Sean says, “but damn it, Zoe’s so damn foxy.”
“On the political correctness scale, is swearing worse than calling a foxy lady foxy?” Jamie mumbles to no one in particular.
“Aren’t you going to say hi?” Sean asks.
“I will, but I’ll let Mom do her thing first.” I watch how my mother introduces Zoe to the man who came in just before her.
“Don’t you wish you
’d ironed your shirt this morning, Sis?” Jamie asks.
“For crying out loud, guys. Can’t you keep it together a bit more?” Secretly, I’m a little bit proud they’re fawning over Zoe like that. But Jamie’s right. Compared to her, I look like the frumpiest woman in town.
Then Zoe spots us and she gives us a wave before heading over.
“Hi.” Her smile is wide and warm. “Great to see you guys again.” She finds my gaze and I feel myself melt a little when she looks into my eyes like that.
“And you,” Sean says.
“My son can’t stop talking about your daughter,” Jamie says.
I listen to them talk about Jaden and Brooklyn for a bit, but mainly I watch Zoe, as she wraps my brother and Sean around her very elegant finger, just by having a chat with them. How does she do that? It’s a sort of superpower. An easiness with other people I’ve never been able to fathom, even though I’ve seen it in action with Mom all my life. But with Zoe, it’s different. Probably because I’m developing strong romantic feelings for her.
Zoe slides into the booth next to me, her thigh touching mine.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be here,” she whispers in my ear.
Because Sean and Jamie are watching us, I feel my cheeks grow hot instantly.
“Well, here I am,” I manage to say.
No more newcomers must have found their way to Lenny’s, because my mother has turned up at our table again.
“Glad to see you’re getting along,” she says, in a way that leaves no doubt in my mind that she knows. I have to at least appreciate the courtesy she has given me by not asking me about it the moment she found out—because it goes very much against her nature. “Can I sit?” Mom doesn’t wait for a reply, nor does she wait for Zoe to make room for her on the bench. She all but shoves her against me with her hip. At least she’s not sitting across from me. But I also can’t escape from the booth without explicitly asking both my mom and Zoe to move.
The door of the bar opens again, and I hope it’s another newcomer so Mom would have to get up again, but it’s only Tom Granger.
“Him,” Zoe says, her voice dripping with disdain.
“Wasn’t he at Bookends the other day?” I ask.
“Oh, yes. He asked me out, actually,” Zoe says.
“What?” Why hasn’t she mentioned this before? “Really?”
“Yes and he was pretty insistent about it, even after I turned him down on account of being a lesbian. I couldn’t have given him a more explicit reason,” Zoe says.
“Guys like Tom,” Sean says, shrugging, as if that’s supposed to mean something to us. It does mean something to me, perhaps because I grew up in this town.
“He had some trouble accepting I was actually a lesbian,” Zoe says. “Can you believe that? In this day and age? That people still have this very fixed idea of what a lesbian should look like.” She shakes her head.
“Like Anna you mean?” Jamie grins at me.
Zoe doesn’t dignify his stupid remark with a reply and I could kiss her for it. Tom Granger heads straight for the bar and doesn’t pay us any attention.
A short silence falls, which is surprising with my mother at the table, but I take the moment to be grateful I’m sitting here with all my favorite people.
“I believe I might have displayed the same kind of ignorance when Zoe told me,” Mom says. “I do apologize for that. Let me buy you a drink to make up for it.”
“It’s fine, Sherry. You weren’t asking me out on a date. It’s not the same thing,” Zoe says, probably endearing herself to my mother even more.
“What are you drinking?” Mom asks.
“White wine, please. Thanks.” Zoe’s gaze follows my mother as she heads to the bar. Mom doesn’t just order drinks; she also goes to have a chat with Tom Granger.
“Another reason why Sherry would make a great mayor,” Sean says. “She can’t abhor any kind of bigotry.”
“Is your mother running for mayor?” Zoe asks. Even though Mom is no longer sharing the bench with us, Zoe hasn’t moved an inch away from me. Her thigh is glued to mine and I can feel her body heat radiating onto me.
“No, we were just joking.”
“Welcoming new people to town is actually the mayor’s job.” Sean is unwilling to let this go. “Why isn’t she here?”
“She came to the Bookends opening party,” Zoe says. “She made me feel very welcome to Donovan Grove.”
“But you run a store. Not every newcomer does.”
“The mayor knows she doesn’t have to be here tonight because Mom’s here,” Jamie says.
“Mom’s not a politician, Sean,” I say. “Her heart’s too much in the right place for that. She can’t play dirty.”
“Here you go.” Mom has returned. “And you can rest assured that Tom Granger will no longer be bothering you.” She hands Zoe her glass of wine.
“Thank you so much, Sherry,” Zoe says.
I wish I could see her face right now. And in the grand scheme of things, if things do work out between Zoe and me, it’s good to know that she and my mother will get along swimmingly.
“Are you always out and about on your own?” Zoe asks.
“I am,” Mom says resolutely.
“Dad’s the biggest homebody you’ll ever meet. He’s probably in his workshop right now,” Jamie says. “Turning an old door into a chair or something like that.”
“I’d love to meet him some time,” Zoe says.
“Why don’t you come to Sunday lunch?” Mom asks. “You and your daughter, of course. We always have a big family lunch on Sunday and there’s always plenty left over. You and Brooklyn are more than welcome to join us.”
“I may need to check with Jaden,” Jamie says, chuckling.
Zoe turns to me. “Is that okay with you?”
“Um, yeah, sure,” I mumble, because I can hardly say, in front of my mother, that it’s way too soon for Zoe to be having lunch with my family. I’ll need to talk with my mother beforehand, even though I don’t want to, because the instant I confirm to her that something’s going on between Zoe and me, she’ll take that as a sign to start officially butting in, to ask me about Zoe multiple times a week, and to begin probing for information I don’t feel comfortable sharing.
“I’d love to, Sherry,” Zoe says.
“Brooklyn’s not going to freak out about meeting Jaden’s entire family?” Jamie asks.
“You’ll be there to find out,” Zoe says.
“If you want to invite me and Cathy along.” Sean beams a smile at my mother.
“Another time, dear,” Mom says, patting him on the arm.
“Speaking of my better half.” Sean empties his beer. “I’d better get home.” He looks at his watch as though, despite being a grown man, he has a curfew. I actually believe that he has.
“One last beer,” Jamie says, just like he does every week. The familiarity of his words is always somehow soothing to me.
Unlike any other Friday, Sean agrees with Jamie.
“Why don’t you call Cathy and ask her to join us?” Mom asks. “The more, the merrier.” She looks around. “I don’t think any more newcomers will arrive.”
Sean shakes his head.
Jamie and I have been forever nagging him about inviting Cathy along, even though we both know she teaches back-to-back Pilates classes on Friday evenings and after-work drinks aren’t really her thing.
“Who was the first guy who arrived? Is he new?” I ask.
“Just passing through,” Mom says. “Which explains why I’d never seen him before.”
“So I’m the only newcomer?” Zoe asks.
“The one and only,” Mom says.
5
Zoe
I rub my temples and emit a little groan. I haven’t quite got the hang of working on Saturdays yet. When I woke up this morning, I thought of asking Brooklyn if she wanted to earn some extra pocket money by minding the store for a few hours, but then I remembered she was going into the city f
or the day to see some of her former classmates.
The white wine they serve at Lenny’s must contain some diabolical ingredients, because my head’s still sore after taking two ibuprofens. And I didn’t even drink that much.
As a distraction, I look at the picture of myself, which now hangs above the front door of Bookends. At first, I wanted to put it in my bedroom, but both Brooklyn and I agreed the painting was too good to not be on display in the store—and it didn’t feel quite right to place it above my bed either.
We only hung it last night so Anna hasn’t seen it yet. I’m sure she’ll come by today. No doubt, she’ll need to give me instructions on how to behave at lunch with her family tomorrow. I chuckle at the thought. Even though she asked me quite a few times to not engage in any displays of affection at Lenny’s in front of her mother, I took great pleasure in squeezing her knee under the table. At one point, I even let a finger dart higher up her thigh, and I had to keep myself in check, because we’re not there yet at all. I was just doing it to rile her up and by the look on her face, it was working.
My first customers of the day are Cynthia and John.
“We’ve come to check out the cookbook section,” John says.
“I can’t get him out of the kitchen these days.” Cynthia has a goofy smile.
I’m sure I’ve been wearing an equally goofy smile lately. It was so lovely to spend time with Anna and her family, and Sean at Lenny’s. Sherry’s so easygoing and if Jaden’s anything like his father, then I hope Brooklyn doesn’t tire of him too quickly. Most of all, it was helpful to see Anna in a social setting, in a place where she feels comfortable. It assuaged some of the worries that have been developing since I’ve started reading the book about Autism Spectrum Disorder.
“There are worse places than the kitchen for your significant other to be,” I joke.
