Dead Sexy: Second Endings 1

by Lulu M. Sylvian

  Well, I’m glad I could help even if it wasn’t actually me.

  I sighed. I was glad it was him too. I know he couldn’t do anything, but I felt safe with his presence. It was nice to have him hang out as I worked. David never did that. Peter sat and twirled the chair slowly, poking at things on my desk. It was odd that he actually could get the chair to move, but never anything else.

  The one time David visited me at work, he stood awkwardly in the corner. I huffed at myself. I was not going to play compare and contrast between Peter and David. That was ridiculous. David was real, flesh and blood, warm skin and toothy grins. Peter was, at best, a benevolent spirit, and most likely something made up in my head. But, since I clearly needed an imaginary friend, I kept him around.

  I missed my boyfriend. Between being sick and having to catch up at work, I only saw him once in two and a half weeks. He wouldn’t visit and hang out at work, something about that made him incredibly uncomfortable. Honestly, Peter acted more like a boyfriend than David did.

  I was not going to let my brain go there. I was not going to develop a crush on some ghost I made up in my head. Besides, if I had to have a crush on an imaginary character it would be Johnny Urban. He was more ideal anyway, no history with drug problems. I really created quite the guy with him—crazy good looking, crazy talented, and incredibly humble. Exactly what any girl would want. I still wanted to make him a were-tiger, for that added bit of bad-boy danger. Alas, Peter had very strong opinions regarding that.

  I wanted to spend time with David, but it felt like the last few dates with him were nothing but booty calls. Part of me wasn’t adverse to that—I felt the urge for another one. However, the part of me that was in love with him just wanted us to spend time together, regardless if we made love or not. I needed quantity time, not quality time.

  There was a fabulous year round farmer’s market near the condo, actually there were several in the area. David and I used to go and wander around them, sometimes, with no intensions of buying anything, simply an excuse to look at things and stroll. One of my favorites was this weekend.

  “Hey, I got a small reprieve at work and I don’t have to work the entire time. Wanna go to the farmer’s market?” I texted.

  “Really, Gil?”

  “I could use an easy stroll in the fresh air. You know, rebuild my stamina.”

  He didn’t text back for a while. I figured he was with a client.

  “Okay, I’ll meet you in the parking lot. What time?”

  “You can’t pick me up?” Parking was tight, he knew that.

  “Shit to do afterwards. It will be easier if I can just jump in my car and go.”

  At ten AM, I sat on the trunk of my Toyota waiting for David “to come find me” like he said he would. I wore long walking shorts, a big brimmed hat, and huge sun glasses that gave me bug eyes. My typical outdoors wear included a rather unattractive UV fabric jacket. It wasn’t my favorite thing to wear, but it was lighter than a regular jacket, and it saved the pasty white skin from the dangers of the sun.

  “You really need to find a new stylist,” David said as he approached me. A huge smile played across his lips as he teased.

  “Hi stranger!” I waited for him to saddle up to me before I threw my arms around his neck for a kiss.

  He gave me a quick peck, and then grabbed my hand, leading me toward the market. “How come I don’t get you for the whole day?” I asked.

  “James is having a beer pong tournament, and I agreed to referee,” he explained. James was his younger brother. James was a classic case of ‘you can take the boy out of college but you can’t take the college out of the boy.’ Only a few years younger than either of us, James still partied like he was in a frat house, majoring in beer buzzes. I could handle James in small doses. An afternoon of drinking beer was not a small dose.

  “Ah, thanks for not including me.” I really was relived to not be invited.

  “So, how’s work?” he asked.

  I had paused to appreciate a flower display. Part of me longed for David to buy me some flowers. The part of me that bought my own flowers knew he wouldn’t.

  “I’m almost all caught up, finally,” I said handing him my purchase. I bought a spray of mixed flowers. They were all tiny and in different colors. They looked like a handful of wild flowers. For all I knew, they were. “I still have to go in for a bit tomorrow. But Adam brought in this freelancer, and that’s helping a lot.”

  I looped my arm through his, forcing him to slow down. I wanted to go slow, spend the time together, and I was afraid if I picked up speed I’d wipe myself out before we finished. I reached up and pulled a long hair out of David’s collar. It had somehow gotten woven in with the fabric. I tossed it to the side, not thinking twice about it. David adjusted to my pace. We passed stall after stall of fresh organic vegetables. I wanted to kick myself for not having brought a shopping bag, but then again, I knew I wouldn’t be doing a lot of cooking this week, so I didn’t really need to buy vegetables only to let them rot.

  I pulled a second hair from his shirt, and looked at it. It wasn’t mine. It was the wrong color and the wrong length. I’d been wearing my hair in a short bob cut for the past year. The cut, with my figure, gave me a very nineteen-twenty’s flapper style. I thought I looked cute.

  A third hair—long and blond.

  “Did your washer break?” I whispered.

  “Why?” he whispered back.

  “I keep finding long blond hairs in your clothes.”

  He chuckled, “Yeah, I had to go to the laundromat last week while the landlord fixed things.”

  “Okay.” I knew there was a simple explanation.

  The soap maker’s stall was a feast for my nose. David started sneezing, so he stood back while I sniffed everything like a hound dog. I purchase two pounds of assorted blocks of handmade soap. I hoped they were as nice to my skin as they were to my nose.

  “You aren’t very chatty this morning.” I noticed

  “I’m tired, work’s keeping me busy,” he explained.

  “Is that why I haven’t seen you? I mean this has been really hard, getting to see you.”

  He paused and turned to me. His hands cupped my face, and he pulled my sunglasses off. He had the prettiest blue eyes, and they were looking at me. I sighed contentedly.

  “It’s only a bad patch, Gil, nothing to worry about.” He kissed the bridge of my nose.

  Our moment of bliss was interrupted by his ringing phone. After looking at the caller ID, he held up a finger to me and wandered off, taking the call.

  I watched him walk off, perplexed. Since when did David tell me to hold on and move off to take a call? Normally, he held my hand and talked away as we walked. I decided to ignore it. I was being paranoid. I hadn’t seen him in so long, now I started to feel like I was turning into the over sensitive, crazy, controlling girlfriend.

  I found a curb to sit on while I waited for him to finish his conversation. Whatever it was, it must have been important. He was curled over into his phone, like he was trying to protect what was being said. It was a Saturday, so I doubted it was work, or something like a doctor’s office. Maybe he was arguing with his brother. James could be a real ass at times. After a few minutes of watching David’s back, I began people watching in general. I loved the variety in people, all colors and sizes and shapes. The farmer’s market had a different mix than what I would normally see on campus.

  I was lost in the swirling patterned of one woman’s curls when David came back. He gently kicked the toe of my shoe to get my attention.

  “Hi.” I smiled as I looked up at him. He glowered, the furrow between his eyebrows deepening with his concern.

  “I have to get going. I need to run some errands for James before I head over there.” He held out a hand to pull me to my feet. “Sorry about this, Gil. I was afraid something like this would happen, good thing we have two cars, right?”

  “Yeah,” I sighed. We had barely been there an hour. “I
had hoped we could have lunch when we were done here. But, I guess not. Hey are we still on for next week at least?”

  “What’s next week?”

  I wanted to kick him. This would be our third year of going to see Shakespeare in the Park. He should remember. I loved Shakespeare, and the group that did the park presentations was really top notch.

  “Shakespeare in the Park, David, remember?” Clearly, he had not.

  “Right, no, I hadn’t. I can’t next week. What am I missing?”

  “Julius Caesar, you know—et tu Brute?” I sighed, frustrated.

  “Next time, I promise. We’ll go the next week.” He kissed me on the cheek and left.

  David was officially on my list. What list, I’m not sure. But seriously, he kissed me on the cheek? And he didn’t even walk me back to my car.

  I called Holly.

  “I’ve been a crappy friend lately, you doing anything this afternoon?”

  Fortunately, she was not. We agreed to meet at the mall. I wondered if Peter would show up and follow us around. He didn’t. I liked Holly, even though we didn’t do a whole lot outside of work, I didn’t regret it when we did. I’ve had some work friends that were best kept at work. My stamina dictated that we stroll slowly. Holly was fine with that.

  “Oh, you need to come smell this,” she said dragging me into a tea shop. “You like the way things smell, you’ll love this.”

  I had been telling her about the soaps I purchased.

  One wall of the shop was lined in some of the most beautiful handmade tea pots I had ever seen. I instantly wanted to start a collection. They were so elegant. The other wall had large jars full of loose teas. A clerk hovered nearby waiting to assist anyone who wanted to dip into the contents.

  Holly pointed at one jar. The clerk, a sweet faced young lady, unscrewed the lid, and using a small scoop, poured a small sample into Holly’s palm. She crunched the tea up and put her hands to her nose. The expression of ecstasy on her face reminded me of a cat with catnip.

  “Here smell.” She held her hands out to me. She was right, it smelled wonderful and orangey.

  Holly went through several teas this way. The clerk never lost patience with us as we oohed and ahhed over the smells. I ended up buying Holly an assortment of three of the teas. It was the least I could do since she had helped to take care of me when I was sick. Something my own boyfriend didn’t even do.

  “No, Holly, really, this is a thank you,” I said as she tried to protest. “You did more for me than David did. And he’s supposed to be in love with me.”

  We walked out of the store and began making our way to the Cinnabon, lured by our noses and their intoxicating cinnamon and sugary smell.

  “Has he said anything to you?” she asked.

  “No, he’s busy with work, or hanging out with his brother.” I thought about it. I had asked—those were his excuses.

  “Maybe he’s giving you space to feel better. You know,” she clutched dramatically at her bosom, “he wants you so desperately it’s easier to be away from you than to be near you and not ravage you constantly.”

  I snorted I laughed so hard. “Yeah, except he kissed me on the cheek this morning when he abandoned me in the middle of the farmer’s market.”

  She stopped walking, the look on her face one of complete shock. “He kissed you on the cheek?” Her pointer finger dug into her own cheek. “The cheek?”

  I nodded.

  “Dump him.” Her tone was matter of fact. “Seriously, what’s wrong with him? The cheek?”

  “Okay, so it’s not just me that finds that odd.”

  “No, that’s totally odd. He has hardly seen you in the past three weeks. He should be lip locking you every chance he gets.”

  I chuckled. I agreed with her. I wasn’t mad at David, simply confused.

  After getting our fingers sticky with cinnamon rolls, we continued to the end of the mall with the theater. We stood ogling the movie posters—hot men, fast cars, hot chicks, aliens, and space ships. There was quite the selection available.

  “Wanna see something?” Holly asked.

  I knew what she wanted to see, the car and gun show. And by gun show, I mean all the really buff guys with epic biceps.

  “Absolutely!”

  My afternoon with Holly had been a more pleasant date than my confusing morning with David.

  9

  Completely nude, with my hands resting on my thighs, I sat, kneeling on my bed. A large black crow stood in front of me. It croaked. This was a dream, and I knew I needed to be dressed. Instantly, I wore a white calf length dress. The cut was very nineteen-fifties, it had a boat neck collar, no sleeves and a full skirt. I had on a little pill box hat with enough netting to cover my forehead. Everything was white. I was in a wedding dress, still sitting back on my heels in the middle of my bed.

  When I realized I wore a wedding dress, I looked up expecting to see my groom. The crow flew off my bed and morphed into a man. I was not surprised to see the bird turn into Peter standing there in a tuxedo. I smiled. The tux framed his square shoulders, and emphasized his lean build. His hair was a little on the long side, but it had been slicked back away from his square brow and his eyes, his beautiful big brown eyes. He was the right groom for me. In a typical standard weird dream transition, we were dancing in the middle of a large room, and I smiled up into his eyes. We held each other and swayed to some music. As we danced, crows flew circles over us. I smiled into Peter’s eyes again, this time, he wasn’t in the same body. Same Peter, only now he was taller and darker.

  The dream transitioned into something else, and I lost the thread of what happened. By the time I woke up, I had forgotten everything except the part with Peter. I felt profoundly sad as I realized I had some heavy feelings for him. If he were imaginary, I could keep my feelings in check. If he was real, that was going to be a challenge. I wasn’t exactly cheating with Peter, but if I accepted him as real, I needed to let David know what was going on.

  Two and a half days passed before I finally received a text from David.

  “I messed up this weekend, didn’t I?” His message asked.

  I hadn’t heard from David since Saturday morning when he abandoned me at the farmer’s market.

  “Yes.” I felt that I deserved a bit more than a text message apology.

  He needs to take you out to dinner. Wine and dine you properly. Peter suggested.

  I agreed.

  “You owe me a proper dinner date.” We needed to clear a few things up in our relationship, my expectations, my ghost.

  “I do. Wednesday. I’ll pick you up at from work?”

  “Yes.” I left it at that.

  I didn’t feel like chatting with David over text. He really should have picked up the phone and called me. He should have been on my door step the next morning with mimosas and waffles. Wednesday, that gave me time to make up my list of discussion questions and memorize them before I saw David again. Holly helped me to see that something was up with him. I already got the feeling Peter didn’t like him much either.

  Over an hour on the phone with Trina on Sunday, and she confirmed Holly’s suspicions. I was being too nice to David, letting him get away with something. Even Peter agreed, and I hadn’t asked him for advice. He nosed himself into the conversation.

  Gilligan, you need to catch him out on what it is. I have my suspicions, but I’m not going to plant that seed in your head. You still love him right?

  Yes, of course. I kicked myself, I shouldn’t need to ‘of course’ regarding my love for David, but I was.

  If you flat out ask him if he still loves you, he will say he does, so you can’t do that. Peter offered.

  Well, what am I supposed to do? Even in my head, I whined.

  Get him to talk about work, anything. The more he talks, the more you’ll find out. If you ask him a bunch of questions, it will be too much like an interview, he’ll suspect something is up. Whatever you do, don’t ask him if he wants to start seein
g other people, unless you are prepared for him to do exactly that. Getting dating advice from a straight man was very different than dating advice from Mike. Mike was fast to kiss, faster to sex, and fastest to breaking up.

  Waiting for date night to roll around turned me into a worrying stress monkey. A date with David shouldn’t have been so nerve wracking. Even with plans on finding out what was really up with him and confessing about Peter. I spent hours trying to decide what to wear. I went through every dress in my closet at least twice. Without the time or budget to shop for something new, I finally settled on a slightly fancier than work wear dress with long flowy sleeves and a scandalously low V-neck. Of course, it was purple, my power color. We had been together for a few years, we should be comfortable together. So, why wasn’t I? It was easier being around Peter in my head than with David. Maybe I felt guilty over Peter. There was nothing to feel guilty about. Or was there?

  David picked me up as planned. I slid into the passenger seat of his car, a new-to-him used Lexus. And by new, I mean since the last time I had been in his car. Had it really been that long since we had seen each other? This vehicle was swank—leather interior, real wood paneling.

  “Wow, David, this is really nice,” I said appreciatively, petting the dash in front of me.

  “Thanks, I thought it suited my status better.”

  “Did you get a promotion at work?” The step up would make him a regional supervisor. That meant less time traveling to do on site repairs for the ultra-sound equipment he worked on.

  “Not yet, but this tells them I’m serious.” He boasted.

  “It tells them something.” I wasn’t sure what it would tell his boss, but it told me he was over extending his credit.

  Over dinner, David told me all about the extra work he had been doing. All the additional groups he was working with to get noticed by the higher-ups. I commended him on his new found ambition, a character trait I can’t say I had ever really noticed in him before.

  He apologized several times for neglecting me the past few weeks, but big things were headed his way, and soon. He could tell.