by M. C. Cerny
“I will be. I was serious about not letting Sydney back in my life.”
“Good. Maybe we should go out, go dancing, get drunk, make Tommy drive us home.”
“I heard that!” Tommy called from the front of the shop. I swore this place was worse than a church quilting bee.
“Come on, Tommy! Help a sister out!” Gemma teased him mercilessly. If I didn’t know where my brother’s heart was already committed I would have suggested the two of them make a go of it.
Tommy playfully responded, “You’re not my sister, Gemma-Germ! I don’t have to do things for you and pretend to be nice.”
“Oh poo!” Gemma tossed her towel down and stormed out to the main shop area where Tommy was coloring a client. I followed her out there to make sure she didn’t maim my brother before lunch.
Tommy parted his client’s hair and applied the color in expert strokes dividing and brushing down the locks with practiced ease. He had a way of working that was methodical. I almost wanted to video him working and set it to music, an idea that made me wonder how we could get a little more publicity, maybe start a YouTube channel.
“Come on Tom, do us a solid.” Gemma stood side to side with me and gave her best pout. Heck, I’d drive at this point.
Tommy pointed his applicator at us waving it back and forth. “Last time someone got sick in my car, no thanks. Call a car service.” I remembered that vividly, another kind memory Sydney left us with after a wild night. Some people needed to come with warning labels.
“Oh you have to be careful, my dears. I heard those drivers are all criminals and rapists.” Mrs. Laurie whispered loud enough for the people on the street to hear her. The woman had to be eighty if a day and carried her opinion like bricks in her purse, heavy, and not exactly useful.
Tommy groaned. “Fine. I’ll drive. Where are we going?”
“Weee!” Gemma squealed and grabbed a hold of my arms forcing me to dance around in a circle amidst the herby scent of botanical essences and chemicals.
“I never said I wanted to go anywhere.”
“Too bad, so sad, we’re going out.” Gemma singsonged.
This time I groaned. Tommy grinned, and Mrs. Laurie patted my hand.
“It’s good for you to go out while you can still fine a young man willing to take on an independent woman.” She nodded her head like she was speaking the gospel. It was endearing if she wasn’t so wrong.
The three of us coughed. Clearly Mrs. Laurie wasn’t aware my tastes ran in the opposite direction. It was sweet and she was well meaning.
“Oh Mrs. Laurie.” I placated her, patting her wrinkled hand softly. “I’m not sure any man could handle me.” I was a chicks before dicks kind of girl and figured that out long ago.
Tommy snorted and I gave him a withering look to shut him up.
Mrs. Laurie hummed and rolled her eyes as her hand went to clutch her necklace. “I fear for your immortal soul, my dear. Every woman needs a man.”
“I got toys on auto-delivery. I don’t need no man.” Gemma overshared.
“Seriously, Gem?” Tommy groaned and I’m sure the image was equally disturbing to both of us. I’m sure she said it to draw the heat off me which was appreciated but unnecessary.
I cleared my throat addressing Mrs. Laurie instead. “Sinning is the least of my worries, but thank you.” I kindly added. Was today over yet?
“I hear prayers work wonders.” Gemma clasped her hands together pretending for a hot moment to be somewhat angelic and spiritual. One of us was going to hell, but it wasn’t me.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I smiled doing my best to diffuse this conversation with no help from my peanut gallery.
“We are so going to Hell.” Tommy murmured my sentiments between slapping color on her light lavender locks that would make her the envy of all the ladies at the assisted living home where she resided.
“If you’re going to Hell, Mr. Cox, I’ll be seeing you there. After my Winston died I hooked up with Reginald Foster. Now he lived across the street and his wife had taken off with the man who delivered meat from the widow Esther Ashby’s farm.” She said dramatically like were transported decades into the past.
“That hussy.” Gemma chuffed pretending to clutch her own pearls.
Mrs. Laurie nodded her head agreeing. “Mind you, this was twenty years ago when things just simply weren’t talked about, but a woman has needs. My Winston was dead and buried. Surly Jesus Christ could forgive me for my moment of weakness.”
We all looked at Mrs. Laurie a bit in shock and maybe a little in awe as she continued her sordid tale of sexual exploits that amounted to visible ankles and sidelong glances in the produce aisle. She might want to set me up on a blind date with her nephew when she remembered having one, but it seemed our resident granny had a few skeletons in her closet as well. We were in good company then.
Now if I could get Sydney to stop calling me and my brother and assistant to lay off the dancing and drink I might be okay.
6
Carmen
I slipped my hoop earring in when the buzzer sounded in my apartment above the bakery. My heels clicked on the floor and I peeked out the window. Noah stood at the door leading up with a bunch of pretty flowers in his hand. He dressed in a button down shirt and black slacks. He upped his game since I last saw him and the effort was sweet, but it didn’t spark the chemical reaction I was hoping for. It was too late to call it off and far too rude to pretend I wasn’t home. This poor man didn’t have a chance, but I felt compelled to see it through dinner, pay my half and let him down gently.
I stuck my head out the window and called down. “Come on up.”
Noah opened the bottom door and made his way upstairs to my place. Each footfall echoed and I greeted him at the apartment door as he handed me the flowers.
“These are beautiful.” I sniffed the bright pink and purple flowers, reminding me of late spring, early summer. “Let me put them in some water and we can go.” I grabbed a vase and filled it in the sink placing the bouquet on the counter. The colorful buds added color contrasting to the freshly painted walls in the sterile cream color. Taylor would have a field day decorating my apartment.
“Wow, you literally meant you just moved in.” Noah looked around the tiny one bedroom apartment filled with boxes and cookbooks. He wasn’t nosy, just assessing the sum total of my new life with kind eyes. I kept thinking that someday he’d make a lovely husband to a nice girl, but it wouldn’t be me and I remembered to not muddy the signals further.
“Call it a case of a bad break up and a new opportunity.” I focused on dropping hints here and there that I wasn’t interested. No sense in shocking him later. It really wasn’t him, it was me, and the confusing feelings I had for a gothy chic who probably knew more lyrics to Ani Difranco than I ever would.
So our date digressed.
“Ah, I hope you gave him hell then.” Noah moved into my space and went to put his arms around me, but I ducked out of his hold twirling on my heels and grabbing my purse.
“Actually, he ended up with my restaurant once he proposed to another woman. I’m not as bitter as I thought I’d be, but it still stings, you know?” I said doing my best to keep the ever present frown off my face when I was reminded of Neil and how he sold out what I thought was a good relationship for chance to top my career.
Noah shook his head and ran his big paw of a hand over his head like he couldn’t believe it. Sometimes I still didn’t believe it, but here I was in a small town determined to do this my way.
“We probably have more in common than you know, Carmen. How about dinner, drowning our sorrows in wine and then dancing like idiots?” He asked while politely respecting my space. Noah got it. He understood the pain I didn’t show on the surface and for that reason I put my hand in his and let him take me to dinner.
We ended up at a little outdoor Italian bistro in the next town over. Cute iron scroll work enclosed the patio and white lights had been weaved in between g
iving the restaurant a casual but romantic feel.
“I hope this is okay. Our town has some good places to eat, but sometimes I don’t want to be seen at the cop everyone knows.” Noah pulled out chair and I sat down adjusting my skirt.
“Are you kidding? This is perfect. I love Italian food.” I picked up the menu and eyed the choices offered. Fresh fish, chicken parmesan, bruschetta, hand rolled pastas. My mouth watered.
Noah leaned over the table with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “Do you mind if I order?”
I had no idea what to expect with this guy. Again, nothing more than friendship was going to happen but he had the kind of charisma and this gentlemanly need to take care of someone that I couldn’t help but concede a little.
“By all means, practicing your wooing.” I put my menu down and listened as Noah spoke to the waitress in Italian surprising me yet again.
It seemed that Noah ordered a sample platter of all the house specialties. The small tasting plates kept coming and my stomach was filling with delicious carbs and herby selections until I had to push my plate away.
“So tell me, how does a small town cop know Italian?” I asked incredible curious.
Noah tipped the wine bottle in my direction and he filled my glass before finishing the bottle in his own glass.
“This place is my aunt’s restaurant. Come to a small town and everyone will basically know everyone at some point.” He said.
“I guess I should enjoy my anonymity for as long as I can, huh?”
“It’s also the best place to bring a date, even when you’re sure it’s probably not going anywhere.” He winked forcing me to laugh out loud.
“So it’s like that, Noah?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. You tell me Miss Baker, but not until you’ve tasted my aunt’s cannoli.” He pushed a dessert plate my way and I picked up the filled treat biting into the delicious cream.
“Oh my god, this heaven.” I mumbled between bites.
“You still want to go dancing? I can take you home if you’d rather.” Noah looked a little sad and I felt a little sad trying to navigate this.
“So this is the part of the evening where I come clean?” I sipped my wine feeling tipsy, but not drunk.
“I respect women, Carmen. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to and if all we end up being is friends that’s okay too. I mean, I’m still attracted to you, but I’m not an asshole. I can take a hint.” Noah sat back in his seat fiddling with his napkin and I bit my lip to spit it out.
I looked around the bistro finding us the only couple still here and said quietly, “I’m bisexual, but monogamously.”
“And you just had a guy cheat on you.” He grumbled completely non-pulsed about my disclosure. He sounded more pissed about my ex and then grabbed the last cannoli shoving it in his mouth. I wanted to eat my feelings too, but dancing did sound fun.
“You want to get out of here? Go dance the rest of night? I get the feeling we’ve both had shitty times recently.” I stood up and offered Noah my hand. He smiled and took it walking me down the block to a cute speakeasy looking club I would have expected in Soho.
Dancing it was.
We spent the next hour casually talking and drinking. I stayed with wine and Noah changed to a whiskey saying he hadn’t been out in a while. We decided to leave his car at the bistro since his aunt owned the place and call for an Uber when the night was over.
It was fun. Carefree. It was the most I’d let go in a long time. I told Noah about my family in Connecticut and how my best friend Taylor who he seemed to know by extension of the small town rules asked me to design her wedding her cake. The night was everything I needed and the more we drank, the freer I was lightly touching Noah. He wrapped his arms around me as we swayed to a slower song. I gripped his hips and let my short nails rake up his back. He sighed against my neck and it felt–nice.
“I really want to kiss you, but I’m half afraid you might slug me.” Noah leaned back winking and I laughed at his assessment. Was I really that transparent with my feelings?
“You can try. I left my wooden spoon at home tonight. Wouldn’t fit in my purse.” I held up the tiny bag joking.
Noah shifted in closer and slid his hand to my back to pull me in closer. Warning bells went off because I wanted to feel butterflies, birds flapping, anything that indicated this was it for me. I let my eyes flutter closed. Noah was a nice guy and when his hand stroked the back of my neck and he leaned in kissing my lips with his soft warm ones my hope deflated.
Nothing.
De nadda.
Not even the mix of whiskey and cinnamon on his breath stirred anything for me. I tried though. I tried to get into the kiss and opened my mouth a little letting his eager tongue slip inside with my less active one.
Noah pulled back leaving a quick kiss on my lips and then my cheek as if he also knew this wasn’t going in the direction either of us hoped it would. Lawd, the man was sweet like a vanilla cupcake, even for a self-declared he-ho.
We both sighed deeply and then hugged each other tightly.
“I wish I could say we were on the same page, but I have a feeling I’d be deluding myself.” He kindly pushed back a lock of my hair.
Wincing, I brushed my hand through his short hair. Our eyes met and I said what I needed to as gently as possible. “I’m sorry, Noah. I feel like I’d be a real shit to drag this out when I think we both know it wouldn’t go where we want it too.”
Noah pulled away holding me at arm’s length. “I get it. I think. But mostly, I appreciate how honest you are.”
“Really, this isn’t a you thing. I promise.”
Noah gave a chuckle I hadn’t expected. “I think my ego is safe. Bruised, but okay.” He kissed my cheek again, friendly and sweet. He’d be a great guy for the right girl, just not this girl who couldn’t stop thinking about another girl. Ugh. That would be messy and dramatic so I kept that information to myself for right now.
“How about we drink and dance and forget the whole romance thing.” I needed a night out, maybe not one that ended in sex and happily ever afters but a connection with someone who was decent and good.
“I’m on board with that.” Noah tugged me out onto the dance floor spinning me around. It was the most fun I’d had in a good long while and I needed it because tomorrow it would be back to baking hangover or not.
7
Louisa
“Get in bit…beautiful girls.” Tommy has the car idling as I slipped into the front passenger seat. “Man, I’ve always wanted to say that.” He chuckled. Both Gemma and I give him a dirty look. We know he doesn’t mean it disrespectfully. He thinks he’s being funny. This is what happens when you work with your brother and live next door to him in a duplex. We’ve always been close, but at least our parents live across town and travel for work.
“Ugh, this old thing.” Gemma tosses her bag in the bag seat sliding in.
He still drives his beloved manual silver Honda Civic from high school. It’s a bit of a death trap considering he prefers his road bike to get around town. One of these days, I’m going to pay someone to take this car to the junkyard and see how long it takes for him notice. For now it’ll get us to the club over the river and home again with my fingers crossed, and a roll of duct tape in the trunk in case it doesn’t.
“Drive the car and the shut up.” I pulled down the visor so I could use the mirror to reapply my bright pink lipstick. I smudge my eyeliner into a smokier look as Gemma grumbles in the back putting her seatbelt on.
“We haven’t been out in ages, the three of us.” Gemma pipes up from the backseat. She’s right. Between the shop, wedding season makeup and hair, we haven’t been out to do anything fun. In fact, the last time we were out together it was a group of four. Sydney was with us and the night started out fine until it wasn’t. I pushed the thought away. I wasn’t about to ruin tonight on old stuff that didn’t matter.
“Did you ladies pregame without me?” T
ommy drove the car and Gemma pulled out a small flask from her purse.
“Someone did.” I thumbed to the back seat.
“It’s like you two don’t even know me at all.” Gemma snuck a sip before passing the flask to me. I snuck a sip and then handed it back to her.
“Gross, bad vodka.” I choked it down wheezing for my next breath.
Tommy laughs at us shaking his head.
“Cheap vodka. Those biddies are poor tippers on a fixed income. You know how much baby powder smelling hair I had to wash to buy a jug of this?” Gemma groans putting it away in her purse that looked large enough to hold a sink inside it.
“Ugh, please. First round is on me.” I knew Tommy wouldn’t sneak a sip while driving. He was a good brother like that.
Twenty minutes later and we pulled into one of our favorite places. The Speakeasy Sam was a little dance club in Poughkeepsie that catered to the mid-twenties to forties crowd. The bar poured generous drinks and the neighborhood was safe to park a car. A few other bars with live music were nearby, but this one was our favorite.
“So, if I meet the man of my dreams, ya’ll are gonna leave me be and let me work my magic.” Gemma instructed us weaving on her black high-heeled booties and slinging her closet-purse over her shoulder.
Tommy leaned in muttering, “Why did we bring her again?”
“I heard that, Thomas Willam Cox!” Gemma bellowed.
“I can’t figure out why the two of you haven’t hooked up already, but you don’t hear me going on about it.” I stood there, arms crossed wondering if they would respond to my comment at all. Typically they ignored me.
“Bad sister.” Tommy walked inside ignoring me as I predicted.
“Bad friend.” Gemma echoed pointing at me and walking backwards behind Tommy.
