The Do-Over

by Georgia Beers

  Bella gave her head a rough shake. What was the matter with her? We love you and don’t want you to get hurt. Bella heard Heather’s voice as clearly as if she was standing in the office with her. Maybe slow down a little bit?

  This was definitely not that. This constant thinking about Easton, the never-ending replays of their parking lot kiss, the way her fingers actually itched to text her more than the handful of times they already had today. None of that constituted slowing down. None of it. And Bella knew it.

  Her 4:30 arrived and she was able to shift her focus for the allotted fifty minutes. For that, she was grateful. The last thing she wanted was to shortchange her client because she couldn’t keep her own mind out of the gutter. It seemed to like it there, all hunkered down and snuggling with the dirty thoughts and naked bodies. But she pushed through and centered all her concentration on her client. When she finally left her office and stepped out into the wonderfully pleasant late-May air, Bella felt utterly exhausted, weak in her bones, like she’d been holding up a heavy piece of furniture for the better part of an hour.

  She left the office by six, stopped to grab a Quarter Pounder with Cheese from McDonald’s, which she’d pay for later but didn’t care in the moment, because yum. Once home, she felt better. More relaxed, as if she’d been short of breath all day and could now fill her lungs up all the way. It brought unexpected relief.

  Thank God for my dogs.

  This thought crossed Bella’s mind often, on a regular basis. They were like a salve for an aching soul. Whenever she was sad or confused or angry or had simply had a bad day, Lucy and Ethel had a way of making her feel better. Like she mattered. Like she was special. Loved. She’d finished her dinner and had fed them theirs and was sitting on the living room floor with them while they tried to pretend their forty (Ethel) and fifty-five (Lucy) pound frames were perfectly suitable for being in her lap. They played that game for a good twenty minutes before Lucy decided she’d had enough and adjourned to her big fluffy bed in the corner. Ethel, on the other hand, was completely riled up and Bella decided, since the evening was nice, she’d take her out for a little Tennis Ball.

  Instead of going to her usual park, Bella had an urge for a different venue. She took Ethel to the nearby elementary school and onto the grounds, which were completely fenced in. There was so much more space for Ethel, and no people who could give her the side-eye about her loose pit bull mix. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to be there, but since it was after school hours and she was always very good about cleaning up after her dog, the security guard on duty always cut her some slack. His name was Ralph and he waved to her now from the double doors nearest her.

  Ethel was in her glory as she chased her ball, bounding through the spring green of the grass like a puppy. Bella loved watching her run. Also in its glory was the ice cream stand across the street. The first weeks it was open always seemed so busy, and Bella shot several glances in that direction, the lights becoming brighter as the sun sank slowly toward the horizon, the delighted squeals of children getting ice cream carried through the air. Bella found herself smiling more than once and absently entertained the idea of getting herself her first hot fudge sundae of the season as she threw the tennis ball again and again.

  Bella had no idea how much time had passed when she heard a voice.

  “Hey.” It came from nearby and Ethel detoured on her route back to Bella, bypassing her completely to greet the woman and child who’d come through the chain link gate.

  “Hi, Ethel,” Emma said, running to greet the dog. Ethel, true to her gentle heart, immediately lay down on the grass and rolled over to show her tummy. Emma giggled, fell down onto the grass with her, and dutifully scratched.

  Bella smiled at them, then lifted her gaze to take in Easton as she walked toward her. Worn jeans with a worn-white spot on one thigh, black V-neck T-shirt, gray hoodie, unzipped. Her hair was down and slightly tousled. Blue eyes sparkled with a smile as she stopped in front of Bella and held out a hand.

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I took a chance.”

  When Bella was able to tear her eyes away from Easton’s glowing face to look down, she saw a hot fudge sundae in Easton’s hand, the cherry on top adding a bright pop of color to the falling dusk. She glanced back up, confused. “How—?”

  Easton’s face broke into a smile and she gestured with her head at the ice cream stand. “We were over there getting ice cream and we saw you. Ethel’s pretty distinctive.” She winked. “I thought maybe you’d like to have some with us.” Something passed across her features then, something quick, but it dimmed her smile just a touch. It took a moment for Bella to realize that maybe Easton was feeling uneasy, uncertain about the ice cream gesture, and she hurried to reassure her.

  “Oh, my God,” Bella said, taking the sundae from Easton’s hand. “I was literally standing here thinking it might be time for my first sundae of the season. Like, literally.”

  “Yeah?” Easton’s face relaxed, and with it came relief for Bella. “What kind would you have ordered?”

  Bella held up the sundae in her hand before grasping the spoon. “Hot fudge, baby.”

  Easton gave her a playful squint. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. Cross my heart.” Bella did so with the spoon, then held her hand up, Boy Scout style. “Hot fudge, all the way.”

  “Good.” Easton said it softly and shifted her weight on her feet. Bella heard her swallow as she turned to look at the pile of dog and child on the ground. “She’s so good with Emma.”

  “She loves kids. It’s in her nature. She’s just a sweet, sweet dog.”

  “I thought you went to the park to play ball. What made you come here?” Easton spooned some ice cream into her mouth, and Bella took a moment to enjoy how her lips closed over the plastic spoon.

  Forcing herself to shift her focus, Bella worked her own spoon through her ice cream, making sure to get some hot fudge as well as some whipped cream in the bite. She looked back up at Easton and said honestly, “I’m not really sure.” She took the bite, savoring the creaminess as it melted on her tongue. “We come here sometimes, but the park is definitely our default. I just had the sudden urge to come here instead.”

  “Well, it got you ice cream, so I’d say you win.”

  “Ice cream and you. A win-win.” Bella felt her face heat up after those words, and she hoped Easton couldn’t see it in the waning light of the evening. The way Easton’s face seemed to glow a bit minimized any embarrassment Bella felt.

  “How was your day?” Easton asked. Bella noticed she maintained a fair bit of distance, physically, and wondered if that was because of Emma’s presence.

  “Not bad.” She recounted the bullet points, never mentioning details of her sessions with clients. The words I thought about you a lot were on the tip of her tongue, but she kept hearing her friends’ voices in the background. Their warning. Their worry. She somehow managed to swallow those words back down, keep them inside. For now. “How about your day?”

  Easton groaned and dropped her head back toward her shoulder blades. “I’m at a point where I really, really need my people to accept that their old boss is gone, I’m what they have now, and just grow the hell up. I understood them being upset for a while, but now they just sound like whiny children.” She glanced at Bella out of the corner of her eye, sheepish, and said, “I probably shouldn’t say things like that to you, since you work for my boss.”

  Bella reached out and squeezed Easton’s upper arm. She couldn’t help herself. It was as if she suddenly needed to touch her in some way. In any way at all. “We’re friends, too. You’re allowed to talk to me any way you want. It stays between us.”

  “You kind of have to be good at that, don’t you?” Easton’s relief was obvious.

  “At what?”

  “At keeping quiet. At keeping secrets.”

  Bella nodded, ate some more ice cream. “Part of the job, yes.” There was a bench nearby, and Bella gestured to it.
“Ethel doesn’t seem to be interested in Tennis Ball anymore. Your child has enamored her. Want to sit?”

  Easton chuckled. “I think it’s Ethel that’s done the enamoring.”

  They sat side by side and watched in silence for a moment as Emma and Ethel rolled around in the grass. Emma pretended to ignore Ethel. In response, Ethel would gently paw at her until Emma giggled and lay down, her head on Ethel’s pink stomach. They were adorable together.

  “Any progress on the dog front?” Bella asked. “Has your ex gotten her one yet?”

  Easton shook her head, kept her eyes on the dog and little girl show in front of them. “No, and I think it’s sort of faded away. Though after this…” She pointed a finger at her daughter. “Might come screeching back.”

  Bella held up her hands like a robbery victim, careful not to spill her sundae. “Hey, you came over here of your own free will. I take no responsibility for any desire for a dog that may result from it.”

  Easton leaned against her, bumped her with a shoulder. “Funny.”

  Quiet descended again, and the fact that they could simply sit with it, that it didn’t feel awkward or at all uncomfortable amazed Bella once again. She couldn’t think of anybody else she could exist with in silence and be totally okay. Not stir-crazy. Not nervous. No need to fill the silence with words. It was a nice feeling. She wondered if Easton felt it, too.

  After a few moments, Easton sighed and glanced at the watch on her slim wrist. “It’s getting late.” Dusk was rapidly morphing into darkness and the air had chilled noticeably. Dew dampened the grass. “Come on, Emma. Time to go.”

  Emma had her arm around Ethel, who sat next to her like they were best friends in kindergarten, and she let out a long “Awwwww” at hearing Easton’s request.

  “You’ll get to play with Ethel again.” Easton’s head snapped in Bella’s direction and she grimaced, teeth showing. “Right?” she whispered.

  Bella couldn’t help but let a little laugh go. “Any time.”

  “Oh, good.” Easton fake-wiped her brow with a whew.

  Emma and Ethel approached, Ethel looking for all intents and purposes like she was Emma’s dog and not Bella’s. “Traitor,” Bella muttered.

  Easton used her napkin to wipe some residual ice cream off Emma’s face, her daughter doing that thing kids do where they turn their head one way and then the other to avoid Mom and her awful need for cleanliness. Finished, Easton looked at Bella, her blue eyes soft, and pointed toward the ice cream place. “We’re parked over there.”

  Bella pointed in the opposite direction. “We’re that way.”

  “I figured.” She paused, then said, “I didn’t expect to see you tonight. It was a nice surprise.”

  “It was a very nice surprise.” Bella clipped Ethel’s leash on, then held up her now-empty ice cream bowl. “Thanks for the sundae.”

  “My pleasure. I’m glad it was the right one.”

  “It was perfect.”

  They stood there, and this time it was a little awkward. At least Bella thought so. They were like two schoolkids after their first date, hovering on the front porch, trying to decide what they were supposed to do next.

  Easton glanced down at Emma, and Bella was sure she heard a soft sigh. “So, I’ll see you Wednesday night, right?”

  Bella nodded. “You will.”

  “Okay then. Come on, Emma-bear.” She held a hand out to her daughter and they headed for the gate they’d come through, Emma waving over her shoulder at Bella and her dog.

  Bella watched for a moment, but then realized how creepy it might seem if she stared the entire time Easton walked away. She clicked her tongue and turned away, tugging Ethel’s leash as she went. The dog trotted beside her, looking extra happy, a spring in her canine step. “Looks like we both got to see our girlfriends, huh?” Then she rolled her eyes and groaned loudly. “Oh, perfect, call her your girlfriend, Isabella. That’s slowing things down. Totally. Way to go with that. Good job.”

  Ethel looked up at her as they walked, clearly puzzled.

  Bella scoffed. “Yeah, me too, Ethel. Me too.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Framerton High, 2003

  It was the third week back in school, and Izzy still felt lost and alone. She had friends. She wasn’t a complete loser with nobody. But the fact was, she never felt fully comfortable with anybody. Not her friends. Not even her parents. Nobody. She was dealing with some stuff she probably should talk about with somebody, but there wasn’t anybody she felt okay talking to about it. A vicious cycle of sorts that left her feeling frighteningly solitary. Thank God she was a senior now. She only had to survive one more year and then she could go. Leave. Run.

  The summer had been…weird. Good because she wasn’t in school and so was able to find a little peace. Bad because, despite working two jobs, she still had too much time to be in her own head. And that could be a dangerous place sometimes.

  The damn dreams.

  They’d stopped for a while but started up again toward the end of summer, and though they weren’t constant, they happened more than Izzy was comfortable with.

  Sex dreams.

  She had to call them what they were, and they were most definitely sex dreams.

  Izzy was no prude. Sex dreams were fine. Sometimes, they were awesome. She’d had them before. But these latest ones? They alarmed her because the basics were always the same: she was always totally naked, she was always seriously into it, the person she was having sex with was always a woman. Sometimes, she was faceless. Sometimes, she was Kate Beckinsale. Most often, she was Easton Evans.

  And that freaked Izzy out. Confused her. Messed with her head.

  Doesn’t mean I’m gay.

  That was her mantra. It was the only thing that kept her from completely losing her shit. So, she said it to herself over and over. In her head. In her journal. Again and again.

  Doesn’t mean I’m gay.

  Does it?

  She’d seen Easton in study hall earlier in the day and that had triggered her memories of last night’s dream, in which Easton was a prominent player. A naked, beautiful, prominent player. Easton had been looking in her direction from across the room in study hall, so they’d made accidental eye contact. Izzy felt her face heat up, like, a thousand degrees, knew she was as red as the candy apple nail polish the girl in front of her was wearing. She yanked her gaze away, opened her notebook, and spent all of study hall writing about it all. Over the summer, she’d found that jotting down her feelings, her fears, helped. She wanted—needed—to get them out of her head so she didn’t go totally insane.

  Now, for trigonometry, she was once again in the same room as Easton. Izzy walked in, stack of books and spiral notebooks clutched tightly to her chest, glanced to her left and saw the blond ponytail, the sparkling blue eyes, the damn cheerleading outfit because there was a game tonight. Those legs that went on forever.

  Izzy had no idea if she’d actually walked into Tara Carlson or if Tara had purposely stepped in her path. Didn’t really matter because, either way, they collided and all Izzy’s supplies went crashing to the floor, scattering everywhere. Several of the kids nearby laughed, clapped, or both.

  “Jesus, watch where you’re going, Dizzy the Runt.” Tara’s voice was as sneery as always. At least Tara hadn’t used the other popular version of her name. The much more offensive one. Izzy didn’t look up at her as she crouched, made herself small, and tried to grab all her stuff as quickly as possible. She didn’t look at anybody, preferring to keep her head down because she knew how red and embarrassed her face appeared. She tried to ignore Tara, who was speaking loudly. She just wanted to get her stuff and find her desk. She was stretching for her calculator, which had skittered under a chair, when her brain suddenly zeroed in on Tara’s words, on what she was actually saying. Or more accurately, reading.

  “‘And this time, she wasn’t faceless. She was E.E. again. All blond and gorgeous and all I wanted to do was undress her…’ E.E.
? Easton, that’s got to be you. Hey, you’re the object of lesbian sex dreams. Congratulations! You’ve arrived!”

  Izzy gasped, felt her stomach churn in horrified panic. She straightened up to her knees, cracking her head loudly on the bottom of a desk as she did so. She reached out a desperate hand toward Tara, who neatly sidestepped it and kept reading in an overly dramatic voice. The entire room had gone quiet.

  “‘I can still remember the feeling. It was so…urgent. Like I couldn’t wait.’”

  “Please,” Izzy whispered, her eyes pleading.

  “‘It was awesome and freaky at the same time. What does it mean?’”

  Izzy felt her eyes fill with tears. “Please, don’t,” she begged, but this time it was so quiet, she knew nobody heard.

  “‘It doesn’t have to mean I’m gay. Right? It doesn’t mean I’m gay.’”

  Izzy hung her head, still on her knees, as the classroom burst into laughter and somebody shouted, “Pretty sure it does!”

  “Shall I go on?” Tara asked.

  A few cheered, a couple told her that was enough, but Izzy couldn’t take any more. In an instant, she felt herself go from horrifyingly hurt and ashamed to incredibly pissed, which came with volcanic levels of heat. She grabbed her things off the floor, stood suddenly, and marched at Tara so quickly, the girl’s eyes widened in genuine surprise, and she stepped backward until her back hit the wall and she and Izzy stood mere inches apart. They weren’t eye to eye, as Izzy was much shorter than Tara, but Izzy glared with more hatred than she’d ever felt in her life, and it was obvious that Tara felt it. The shadow of fear in her eyes was almost satisfying as Izzy grabbed her notebook and yanked it violently out of Tara’s hand.

  “You suck as a human being.” Izzy said it quietly, on a cracked whisper, then turned to leave. Easton was looking at her from across the room, her expression an odd mix of confusion, surprise, and pity, and Izzy couldn’t bear it. She hustled out of the classroom, bumping shoulders with the teacher as she entered. “Nice timing,” she muttered as she sped down the hall, the sheer mortification combining with the look on Easton’s face to churn her stomach into a sour mess of anxiety.