“Where are you going in your underwear?” she called after him. More like hissed.
He turned back to her. “Did you forget we took off our clothes in the laundry room?”
She stared at him.
“Thought so.” He left the room and grabbed his now shit-fire hot clothes out of the dryer, managing to dress without getting second degree burns.
He went back in the bedroom, carrying her clothes with him and dumping them on the bed. The sight of her standing in the middle of the room in her bathrobe, glasses back on, turning in little circles, did something to him. This wasn’t going to be easy for her, and he should have realized it. Should have stopped it, but he’d have to blame the lack of blood flow to his brain on his lack of self-control.
He pulled her into his arms. “It’s going to be okay. I have a plan.”
A few minutes later, when Pop and Mrs. Paulsen walked into the house, Scott was at the sink, lifting it out. Diana was in her bedroom, either getting dressed or hopefully still enjoying the afterglow and not beating herself up about the liberties they’d taken with each other.
“Hey guys.” He called out from the kitchen. “This sink gave me a little trouble coming out, but I’m about to put the new one in.”
Mrs. Paulsen walked into the kitchen, Pop two steps behind her. “Where’s Diana? Surely she’s not ignoring you?”
Oh hell no. Not at all. “She needed some quiet to write so she went in her bedroom.”
“I’m sorry, Scott. That’s not very welcoming of her. I insist you both stay for lunch.” Mrs. Paulsen set her purse down on the kitchen table.
“No, that’s fine. I’m good,” Scott said.
“We’d love to stay for lunch,” Pop answered for him.
Great. He didn’t mind staying, but wondered how Diana felt about that. They hadn’t had any time to talk about what had happened between them. They’d just crossed over into new territory for each of them, a friends-with-benefits scenario he’d wager a guess had never been a part of Diana’s repertoire before today.
“Sure.” He lifted the new sink into place, then dove under to wrench for a few minutes. In the quiet semi-dark under the sink, maybe he could think for a minute.
True, he hadn’t done too famously in the self-control arena today, but he couldn’t conjure up an ounce of regret. The whole event had possibly been the most erotic of his life. With his pal. His buddy. He’d promised to be a friend to Diana, because that’s what she needed right now but today he’d folded like Julie at a poker table. He could have done better, should have done better, taken the high road and all the rest of the crap. Done the honorable thing and turned her down.
His other conscience spoke to him. “Need a hand, son?” Pop said.
“Nope. I got it.” He needed a minute or two to let the blood flow get back full force into his brain.
Diana emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later. From underneath, he got a look at her bare legs as she passed by either wearing those jogging shorts or if he was lucky the sundress she’d worn once, for his eyes only, apparently.
“How was bingo?” she asked.
“Didn’t win this time,” Pop answered. “Can’t win ’em all.”
“He got close, though,” Mrs. Paulsen said. “Pat is just lucky. What have you been doing all morning, dear?”
Causing a flood in the kitchen? Driving a weak man crazy? Coming twice?
“Just hanging out. Doing a little writing.” Interesting. He felt a smile tugging at his lips.
“Scott and Pat are staying for lunch!” Mrs. Paulsen announced.
“Sure,” Diana said. “What a good idea.”
Not so much, he guessed by the tone of her voice. It was getting to where he could read her pretty well and the hesitancy in her answer gave her away. He climbed out, ready to get a good look at her eyes. If she wanted him gone, he’d find a way to get gone and stay gone. It was easy as faking an emergency. He’d just pull out his phone and stare at it, mumble something about the wildfires, then explain he had to leave. Duty called.
“I’m done.” He stretched. “I’ll go turn the water back on so you can make lunch.”
Outside, he turned the lever back up. He was not surprised to find Diana walking out to meet him. “Are you okay?” she whispered.
“Okay? Hell, I’m better than okay. I passed okay a while ago.”
“I mean, you don’t have to stay. I don’t want you to feel like you have to, you know? I’m fine. Really.” She gave him a small smile. “No regrets.”
Well, damn. He hadn’t expected that at all. She was worried about him. “None.”
“I never do this, you know.”
“Never? You could have fooled me,” he said.
“I mean, smartass, I never have sex with my…pal. I never have sex without a commitment. But you don’t have to give me one retroactively! This was just...just…fun. We did this one time and that’s it. All it’s going to be. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going to get all clingy and possessive and—”
He put a finger on her lips. “Stop. I believe you.”
She looked at her feet. “Oh good.”
“And I won’t stay if you want me to go.”
She didn’t answer him, still looking at her feet, and he tipped her chin up. “Diana, what do you want?”
He wished she’d tell him and stop holding back. She hadn’t held anything back from him a few minutes ago.
She chewed on her lower lip but didn’t answer for a minute. “I want you to stay for lunch. It would be weird if you didn’t.”
“Right.” Not quite the answer he wanted, but he followed her inside anyway, prepared to have lunch with the elders. Ready to chat about bingo and the weather as if he hadn’t just had the greatest sex of his entire life.
Diana still moved in a hazy state of euphoria. Just thinking about Scott reminded her that for the first time in years she’d let go. She didn’t know how that had happened. Six years with Bradley, who on paper was everything she should want and need, and he’d never once made her feel like her skin had been turned inside out. But her teenage crush, the bad boy every girl in town had lusted after, was her rebound guy. Only he couldn’t be the guy. She wasn’t quite ready for him. First she had to get her life in order, and go back home at the end of the summer. To face Mom and the bridal boutique one last time. She had to do the smart thing. If it killed her, dammit. Because no man could solve her problems now. She had to figure out life on her own.
Sunday morning, Diana moved into her baby-studio apartment. She’d brought Gran, who insisted on coming along to help clean and give her opinion on drapes and paint. Not that Diana could afford to redecorate. Or buy much furniture which, fortunately, at least made the place look bigger.
“I don’t know about this,” Gran said, turning up her nose. “It’s too small.”
“I don’t need much.”
“It’s a crime how much they charge for rent. When your grandfather and I bought our house, our mortgage payment was two hundred dollars a month. Everyone thought we were crazy to pay so much!”
“Yeah, times have changed.”
“What about a bed?” Gran asked. “Would you like to bring your bed over?”
Bringing her twin bed over would accomplish two things at once. “Would you mind?”
It was a running start to dismantling the spare bedroom, and getting rid of its homage to the nineties. First her bed, then Mandy’s. Next all the boy band posters and pictures of horses in mid-gallop would come off the walls. Gran would have her sewing and reading room.
“Of course not dear, it’s your bed. I probably shouldn’t have kept it for so long but you know. Memories.” She let a hand drift over the windowsill in the six by six area that passed for a kitchen. “But it sure will come in handy now, won’t it?”
“Yep. Sure will.”
Diana let her mind drift back to the time she’d spent on that bedroom floor with Scott. She was positively sure her eyes had ro
lled to the back of her head. Certainly her toes had curled. But he’d seemed distant, and she understood everything had changed. Not in any small and unidentifiable way, but in a seismic earth shifting way. She’d told him it would only happen once, but what did it say about her that she couldn’t stop thinking about a possible second time? Or maybe a third time could be the charm.
“You won’t need much furniture,” Gran said. “Since there’s no place to put it.”
“Convenient for me.” There was a nook area for a bed, the kitchenette, a small bathroom and a living area big enough for a loveseat and not a whole lot else. “It’s only temporary.”
Gran patted Diana’s arm. “There’s no need for you to move, dear. You can stay with me as long as you like.”
“Thanks, but I’ve been in your way long enough. I want to clear out that spare bedroom for you.”
“Tell me the truth, dear. Have I come between you and your mother? Because I didn’t mean to do that.”
“No, that’s silly.”
“Is it? I talked to your mother a couple of nights ago and she said she hasn’t heard much from you.”
“You know how busy I’ve been.” Diana cast her eyes down to the well-worn taupe carpet in the living area. “And she’s hard to talk to. Not like you.”
“But you must try.” Gran studied Diana with ageless dark eyes. The light in them was dimming a bit, a thought which strangled the breath from Diana.
She couldn’t lose Gran. She was still the wisest woman Diana had ever met. Her rock. “I will.”
“Now tell me what’s wrong.”
Did she have to do this here and now? The words seemed stuck in her throat and she opened and closed her mouth twice before speaking. “I don’t know if I want to write anymore.” There. She’d said it out loud.
Gran studied her again, but this time her eyes narrowed. “Why? Don’t you enjoy it?”
“I don’t.” She wasn’t sure when that had happened or whether it was somewhere between the seventy-fourth and seventy-fifth agents’ rejections. Writing didn’t bring joy any longer and she wasn’t sure why.
“Oh. Well, then, that’s okay. You’ll just find something else.”
“But Gran, I studied journalism. I have my MFA in creative writing.” Everyone had expectations after that kind of commitment.
“Yes, that was expensive. I still remember your mother calling, begging me to get you to change your mind. ‘It doesn’t pay,’ she said. To which I responded, ‘Whatever happened to learning for the sake of learning?’ But of course, I had no idea how much an education was running a person these days. Another crime.”
“I paid for it all myself.” And still had the student debt to show for it.
“No matter what, dear, education is never a waste of money. And you have to be at least somewhat happy with what you’re choosing to do with your life.”
“I was working at Mom’s bridal shop mostly. Writing certainly wasn’t paying the bills and it probably never would have.” And Bradley had never thought it would. Much like her father.
“I always thought you were wasting your time there. You could always teach. It’s an honorable profession.”
Diana nodded. “I might do that.”
“You can do anything you want to! Remember that,” Gran said, making Diana feel twelve again.
Twelve, when everything in front of her was full of possibilities and opportunities. Before she’d experienced full blown rejection. Before her parents had divorced and summers with Gran became fewer and further between. Before both her father and Bradley had abandoned her.
And before she’d given up on Prince Charming and happily ever after.
Confession time. She cleared her throat. “Gran, I have to say something. I lied when I said I broke up with Bradley. He broke up with me.”
Gran gasped. “What? That time I met him he seemed perfectly sane.”
Diana strangled a laugh. “He is. We had a plan. Six years of a plan.”
“What happened?”
“He met Tiffany at Getting Hitched. She was one of the Bridezillas that shop for a dress before she has the groom. They met one day picking me up for lunch. Guess that’s all it took. Love at first sight or something.”
Gran shook her head. “Oh dear. No wonder you don’t want to step foot inside your Mom’s shop again. She has no class, that Tiffany, taking another woman’s man.”
“Don’t forget he had something to do with it. I thought he loved me but I think he was dedicated to me. We’d been together for so long we forgot why were together at all. But then Tiffany came along and he lost his head. Or his heart.”
“Did you love him?”
Why had no one ever asked her that question? Mom never had. “I thought I did. We had a plan.”
“Is that why you’re here? Are you running? Because that’s what your mother thinks.”
Running? She didn’t like the sound of that. Cowards ran from their troubles instead of facing them head-on. No, she wasn’t running. Starting over was different. She’d been stuck, working in Mom’s bridal shop because of family loyalty. Writing because it had always been part of the plan.
“I’d always remembered being happy here. Peaceful. I thought it might be a good place to think about my next steps. When I go back, I’ll tell Mom I can’t work there anymore. I just have to figure out what to do instead.”
Gran’s shaky hand cupped Diana’s chin. “You’re still working it all out, aren’t you?”
Diana’s throat felt tight and she held back a sob. “Still working it out.”
Gran pulled Diana into a hug. “Honey, you just take all the time you need.”
13
On the second night in her apartment, Diana sat on the floor, a quart of Cherry Garcia her only company. Well, that and her phone. The cable guy was coming by tomorrow, so no WIFI or cable yet. Plenty of time to write, exactly what she needed. Too bad she couldn’t seem to get any words down. After an hour of effort, she’d given up and gone straight for the Ben & Jerry’s.
Earlier, she’d been to the consignment store in Napa and bought a secondhand couch the owner swore had been steamed cleaned between owners. The price was right, pulled out to a bed and included delivery. She’d save space this way and it made sense. But the stupid couch was funny looking. Lime green with a peacock pattern all over, like it should be owned by someone living in the mountains. As she stared at it now, Diana doubted she’d done the right thing. But the owner had sold her on the fact that when she was done using it she could always return it back to the shop and they’d be happy to sell it again.
Obviously, this was the better idea since she couldn’t stay. She’d agreed to come back after the summer to help in the bridal shop. Now she’d be going back to let Mom know that she wanted to quit the shop for good. She couldn’t face a boutique full of white dresses and all the happy and nauseating brides. Maybe she never wanted that back in her life again. All those hopes and expectations that couples put on each other. Too much.
It was okay to be alone. She wasn’t lonely, she told herself. Just feeling her way to Plan B. She sighed and scooped another spoonful of ice cream, letting it settle on her tongue and slowly melt away. Picked up her phone, stared at it and considered calling Scott. He’d already asked about the apartment number because he wanted to check and see whether there’d been any recent code violations. She’d rolled her eyes and given it to him.
But if she phoned him now, it might sound like a booty call. Which okay, maybe it was. Kind of. She would like to find out if their first time together had been a fluke. Whether all the planets had lined up in perfect formation on that Saturday and that’s why it had been so…crazy good.
There was a knock on the door and Diana peeked through the peephole. Scott. Her heart did that kick-start thing it always seemed to do around him. Calm down, she instructed her heart. It’s just a guy. Yes, but he’s so fine, her heart answered. And he shouldn’t be wasted on someone like you. Hey! Are you going t
o open the door or what? I’m on it. I got this. Opening the door now.
“Hey you,” Scott said. “All settled in?”
Good God, let him in, woman. Just look at him. What are you waiting for? We’d like some action tonight! How about it?
Diana’s heart slammed against her chest. “Would you just calm down?”
“What?” Scott grinned.
Yes, Einstein, you said that out loud.
“I mean, come in.” She moved aside and waved him in. Hopefully Stupid Heart would be happy now. He was inside. The rest would be up to him.
“Everything okay?” He slid her a look that said he doubted it.
“Great! Got a new couch today.” She pointed towards the joke of a couch. It actually reminded her a little of the costume the Riddler wore in Batman.
Scott frowned. “I would have helped you move it.”
“I know that. But it was free delivery.” Obviously, Scott was here to help. What else?
And far be it for me to say, but he could help us to another orgasm you know.
Shut. Up.
Sure enough, he seemed to be casually inspecting the place, scowling at the fan hanging precariously from the ceiling. “No recent code violations. I checked.”
“Whew.” Diana made a big show of wiping her brow.
He went to the door and jiggled the knob. “But I don’t like this lock. You need a deadbolt.”
“It’s fine. I have nothing much to steal anyway.”
“You sign a lease?”
“Month to month. I just need to give notice.” This was what he really wanted to know, she imagined. “Tell you what. You can help me move my twin bed out of Gran’s bedroom. I kind of told her I’d use it, but I’m pretty sure a little girl might need the bed instead. I was thinking about the Boccardo Living Center in town.”
“Good idea.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want something to drink? Or some ice cream?” Which she’d left on the floor. Lovely. She picked it up on the way to the refrigerator. “I have water and water. Milk and water. I’m trying to lose weight, you know.”
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