Saying Yes

by Edie Sommers

  What? He’d actually come pick me up? Man, that’d be something to look forward to all day. But I couldn’t. “You’re sweet, but I’m sure Darlene will give me a ride home.”

  “Darlene. Okay.”

  “I mean, what’s the use of having friends if you don’t intend to use them?” I tried for a dazzling smile.

  “Cassie?” He pulled back his lips and pointed between his front teeth. “You got something, right there.”

  Crap.

  I hopped out of the truck. “Thanks for the ride, and, um…”

  “You’re welcome, darlin’.”

  I double-timed to the building’s front entrance, sure I’d be late, and glanced back over my shoulder before entering the door.

  Jack waved and drove away.

  3

  Darlene pulled her Jeep into the driveway and parked behind my car. Jack straightened from underneath the hood and waved. She grinned and reached for the door handle.

  I grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”

  After all the jumbled feelings I’d confessed on the way over here, no way could I trust her to talk to him, especially not with her total lack of a brain to mouth filter.

  She jerked her arm loose. “Why, to make sure he doesn’t think we’re a couple, of course.”

  “Darlene!” I hissed. “Don’t do this. I…”

  She threw the door open, hopped out, and strode straight up to Jack. “Jack! How’s it goin’? Long time, no see.”

  “Hey, Darlene. Cassie told me she works with you. How long’s it been? Since high school?”

  “Something like that. Senior prom. You went with Jennifer Coates…”

  His smile fell. Darlene plodded on, possibly oblivious to his change in mood. She’d notice if and when it smacked her in the face and not a moment before. Darlene tossed over her shoulder at me, “Laugh if you want to, but I showed up to senior prom with some guy named Billy Something-or-Other, who was dating my cousin Ben. We changed dates once we got in the door.”

  Jack smiled again. “I remember that.”

  Darlene snorted. “I’d bet a lot of people do.” She waved me over. “In case you’re wondering, Cassie and I aren’t together. I mean, we’re together, like we rode over here together, but not together together.” She paused for a moment and added, “Just sayin’.”

  Jack doubled over laughing. “You’re just as subtle as you were in high school.”

  “Hey, go big or go home.”

  Would the earth just open up and swallow me already? From behind gritted teeth I managed, “That was big. Now go home.”

  Darlene dusted her hands together. “Well, my work here is done.” She gave me the world’s most unsubtle wink.

  If my cheeks flamed any hotter the good ole boys at the volunteer fire department would show up and hose me down. And once this red knit top was wet, it would cling to every bump that cold water raised on my chest. With Jack watching. My cheeks set off a third alarm at the fire station.

  The person I’d considered my best friend until two minutes ago left me sputtering in the driveway, fluttered a hand at us, and hauled ass. On her way past me, she muttered, “You can say thank you by naming your first kid after me.”

  “Uh-hem,” Jack said.

  I turned back toward him and froze.

  “She sure wanted to make sure I knew you weren’t a couple. Any particular reason why?” He shut the hood on my car and wiped his hands off on a cloth he pulled from his back pocket.

  All hope of speech deserted me. He took a step forward. Then another. He stood so close to me that a quick lunge downward would put us in kissing distance.

  A horn honked right behind me. We jumped apart. Was it my imagination or did Jack appear slightly guilty?

  The blue-haired woman I’d seen him with earlier got out of her car and passed me like I wasn’t there. “There you are, Jackie.”

  Jack winced.

  “C’mon. We’re gonna be late.”

  He gave me apologetic eyes and followed the woman to her car.

  If Darlene had stayed, she’d have told the woman not to get too comfortable. Jack never stuck with the same woman for long.

  I wanted it to be my turn. Except then it would eventually be over. Maybe I was better off with unrequited dreams.

  Another Friday night after a long week of getting up, going to work, coming home, being a responsible cat parent, and falling into bed. I hadn’t so much as glimpsed the twins since Jack fixed my car, though Darlene questioned me every day.

  I sat on the porch swing, sipping my third—or was that fourth?—glass of the merlot I’d found on sale at the local grocery store. The occasional mosquito buzzed by, but if they bit me now they’d wobble while flying away.

  Two sets of headlights made me squint. Crap. The guys were home. Too late now to rush inside to avoid seeing them taking dates into the house. Dates who wouldn’t leave until the next morning.

  I kept waiting for giggles, but only Andy and Jack approached.

  “Oh, hi there, Cassie,” Jack said. Andy ran into the back of him, then stepped out from around his taller brother—even though Jack kept side-stepping to block him.

  What was that about? “Hi, guys.” My however many glasses of wine prompted me to add, “You’re home early.” I cringed. At least I hadn’t said, “And alone.”

  “Yeah. Got a busy day tomorrow,” Jack drawled. All was quiet except for the creaking chain holding up the swing. After a while he said, “Can we ask a favor?”

  “A favor? Sure.” I didn’t care what they asked. I owed them. Big time. And still owed Jack for a battery.

  “We’re heading out to the car sale tomorrow and won’t be back until Tuesday. Reckon you can keep an eye on the place? Get the mail in, make the place look lived in so nobody gets the bright idea to break in?”

  “Sure!” I didn’t question why they didn’t simply buy a security system. In this one-horse town, if a mugger approached you could always say, “What would your grandpa say?” because you’d be guaranteed to know their kin.

  Even in the dark I pictured Jack’s smile. “Great. I’ll drop a key off tomorrow morning.”

  That night I dreamed of being in Jack and Andy’s house, in bed. But whose?

  After two days of sighing at the lone car in the driveway, wishing to see Jack and Andy, I approached our shared porch warily. What the heck? Packages. Lots of them. I whipped out my cell phone. Should I call the guys? On one hand, I love to hear from them, on the other, I’d hate to be a bother. What if they’d taken some of their fan club with them?

  If it were me, I’d want to know. Although we lived in a fairly safe neighborhood, leaving packages on the porch for a few days only invited trouble.

  That solved, now for the second question. Who to call, Jack or Andy? I snorted at myself. It wasn’t like one would get jealous if I called the other.

  I dialed Andy’s number.

  “Hello? Cassie? How are you?” I heard him hiss in the background, “It’s Cassie.”

  My heart sank. He wasn’t alone, and I’d likely interrupted something. A moment later he said, “Jack says hi. What’s up?”

  The butterflies in my stomach turned back into caterpillars, twisting and turning. “I didn’t call at a bad time, did I?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “I just wanted to let you know that you guys had a lot of packages delivered today.”

  “Oh, okay. If you don’t mind, would you take them in the house?” Was it my imagination, or did Andy sound disappointed?

  “Sure. Y’all still coming back tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. Probably be late afternoon, around six.”

  I took a deep breath. Now or never. Heart hammering, I screwed up my courage. “Look, you guys have been incredibly nice to me and I want to pay you back. If you don’t already have plans, would you like to cook out? The weather’s been really nice this week.” If the sky opened up and rained tomorrow, I’d write a harshly-worded e-mail to our local weather
man.

  No answer. Andy being so sweet probably meant he needed to try to think up a way to let the pathetic, infatuated girl down easy.

  I hurried to say, “It’s okay if—”

  “We’d love to. What can we bring?”

  Do what? My heart did flipflops. “Um…I don’t know. A bottle of wine maybe? Or beer for Jack.”

  “We’ll bring both. And Cassie?”

  “Yes?”

  “You really don’t owe us a thing.”

  I hung up and did a happy dance that might have frightened the elderly lady rocking on her porch across the street.

  I’d bake her brownies later. I dug my hand into my purse, fished around some, and came up empty. Finally, I dumped my purse on one of the massive boxes and found the key to Andy and Jack’s place.

  It felt weird entering their home, like an invader or something. Though I’d been there many times to watch TV or have dinner, I’d never been there without the guys. The layout was somewhat different from my half of the house, as my place came with one bedroom and theirs had two. Whoever divided the house into two apartments didn’t split the place down the middle. I crept through, making sure everything was in order.

  Oh, my! Were those… I breathed a sigh of relief that the silky material wasn’t panties. I didn’t need the mental image of how they got there. Instead they were boxer briefs.

  On the living room floor. Must be Jack’s because I couldn’t imagine Andy leaving skivvies lying around. And of course my overactive imagination provided me with a visual of Jack in those boxers.

  The bathroom sat between the two bedrooms, one jumbled with clothes, shoes, pictures and books, the other neat and devoid of finishing touches. Huh. I added my find to the clothes hamper.

  What was that smell? I followed my nose into the kitchen. Oh, dear God. The freezer drawer at the bottom of the fridge stood open. Brownish goo that might once have been ice cream covered the floor.

  With a sigh, I trudged back to my house to get a mop, bucket, and cleaner. The disaster couldn’t wait until tomorrow. Besides, I’d hate the guys to come home to a mess.

  Rocky Road ice cream, the soggy carton said. They’d also lost a few other things.

  I added the items to my grocery list. Hey, I had to shop anyway, I could pick up a few more items.

  No house should ever be without ice cream.

  Once more I paced in the living room, overdressed—or possibly underdressed—in tank top and shorts, knots in my stomach.

  I checked the kitchen again: salad in the refrigerator, potatoes baking in the oven, and fresh bread in the bread maker I thought I’d never use when Mom gave it to me last Christmas. Steaks marinated in the fridge.

  Finally, finally, Jack and Andy arrived home. I stepped outside to greet them.

  Another car pulled up, carrying, you guessed it, two women. “Hi, fellas, we missed you!” one called out.

  Jack gave me an apologetic shrug, turned to the woman and said, “Sorry, hon, but we just got home from the car sale and got things to do.”

  I couldn’t hear the woman’s reply.

  Andy trod up the steps, peering back over his shoulder.

  Rats. Why did my parents have to raise me so well? “It’s okay, Andy. Your girlfriends missed you. We can cook out another night.”

  Andy’s eyes went wide. “Girlfriends? They’re not our girlfriends.” He didn’t explain further, but he didn’t have to.

  Tight bands loosened from around my chest.

  The car pulled away and Jack joined us on the porch. “Let’s eat.”

  We sat in the backyard, pulling our chairs to the center in a symbolic unity.

  “Man, that was good.” Jack belched and rubbed his belly.

  Andy glared at him and turned back to me. “What did you marinate the steaks in? I might have to try it.”

  “Teriyaki sauce, vermouth, a touch of spices. It’s my mom’s concoction. I’ll write down the ingredients, if you like.”

  “Thanks. Good thing I like to cook.” Andy hiked a thumb at Jack. “He can barely boil water.”

  “But I can grill without dropping burgers in the flames,” Jack retorted.

  In that moment I missed my own brother, off to college, with scarcely a moment to spend with his older sister.

  “Do you remember that time when Dad tried to grill shrimp?” Jack laughed. Andy made a face.

  I couldn’t keep myself from giggling, imagining the two brothers growing up in this house. Sipping wine—me and Andy—and beer in Jack’s case, we enjoyed companionable silence. Flames danced in the firepit, and early fireflies flitted about the yard.

  With us all relaxed, maybe I could find out more about them. “So, you grew up in this house?” I’d always thought they’d bought the place themselves.

  The humor died. “For a few years,” Jack said. “Dad died when we were young, and we went to live with our grandparents on the farm, until Grandma passed. This was Dad’s house, and Grandpa kept it up so it’d be here for us when we moved out.”

  Ouch. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “It’s okay,” Andy said. “We’re good.”

  Poor guys! My image of them and their motivations changed. They didn’t mention a mother, and I wasn’t about to ask, especially not when they’d lived with their grandparents and not the unnamed mother after their father’s death. From now on, I’d wait until they volunteered personal details.

  Occasionally a dog barked or a car drove by, but for the most part it was just us and the crickets.

  “How’d the sale go?” I asked, a safe enough topic, maybe, when the silence grew too much to bear.

  “Good!” Jack took another swallow of beer. “Got several nice used cars for resale, and three more for me to fix up.” His eyes took on an excited gleam. “Including a ’67 Corvette.”

  I didn’t know much about cars, but their new acquisition must truly be something.

  “Dinner was good. Thank you,” Andy said on a yawn, signaling the end of our evening, in a voice three times quieter than Jack’s booming tones. “Something happened in the kitchen, but I don’t know what. There’s a new tub of ice cream in the freezer when the carton we had was half full.” He didn’t sound accusing, just curious.

  “Oh, that. When I brought your packages in I smelled something funny and found the freezer open. I replace the spoiled food.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Jack said.

  Recalling their words when caring for a sick me, I replied, “I know.”

  “So, how’s it going with hottie neighbors?” Darlene asked as we trudged down the sidewalk after work toward our cars. Coworkers stampeded by us, heading out to start their weekends.

  “Fine.” Though I hadn’t seen them since our cookout on Tuesday. Had I upset them with talk of the father they’d lost? God, I hoped not.

  She waggled her brows. “Fine, fine, or fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnne?”

  I laughed and smacked her arm. “We’re friends, okay?”

  “That’s what they all say.”

  We paused a minute for Darlene to watch her favorite accountant exit the building, brush right past us, and hop in a late model Ford. Darlene let out a sigh.

  “Have you bothered to talk to her?” I asked.

  Darlene jumped back. “Moi? A mere mortal?”

  “Why do you put yourself down? You’re wonderful.”

  “Thank you,” Darlene deadpanned, “but I’ve already set my heart on Brenda.”

  I whapped her arm again. Whiter Shade of Pale sounded in the vicinity of my pocketbook. I twisted and turned, couldn’t get past the bag on my hip. Finally, I dropped my lunch bag and purse, and stooped to get my phone. I couldn’t remember what songs I’d given my contacts as ring tones. Probably Mom. If I didn’t answer, she’d keep calling until I did. “Hello?”

  “Cassie? It’s Jack.”

  I went from a crouch to flat on my ass. “Who? I mean, Jack? What’s up?”

  Darlene batted her ey
es and made a kissy face. I ignored her.

  “Look, Andy and I were thinking of going to get pizza tonight. Wanna go?”

  Pizza? With Andy and Jack? On a Friday night? Didn’t they have dates? I sat staring at my phone.

  Darlene snatched it out of my hand. “Sure. What time?”

  She hit the button to end the call and handed me back my phone. “You have a date with the two hottest men in town at six.” She looked me up and down and hauled me to my feet. “If I were you, I’d hurry home to get ready.”

  What? A date? Surely not. “We’re friends,” I said, as much to myself as to her.

  “Sure, you are.” My bestie patted my back and led me to my car, me being too in shock to find my own way. “They are twins, you know.”

  “Ye… yes. Fraternal. So?”

  She peered down at me from her five-feet-eleven height. “Have you ever heard of yaoi?”

  “I think you might have mentioned it a time or thirteen.”

  When we got to her Jeep, Darlene reached into the glove box and pulled out a stack of comic books. “Read.”

  Two hot guys graced the cover. I flipped to the first page, and slammed the book closed after two seconds. What had been seen couldn’t be unseen.

  Darlene laughed.

  I scowled—and decided I’d save the rest of the book for later. I so didn’t need fantasy fodder if I’d be expected to behave myself with Jack and Andy.

  That night began a trend. A totally platonic, “one of the guys” trend.

  “Cassie? My bowling league meets tonight and we need a fourth. You bowl?”

  Or

  “Cassie? I’m going to Walmart to pick up a few things, wanna go?”

  Or

  “We’re going to Grandpa’s for dinner. He wants to meet you.”

  Or

  “Nice PJs.” Andy and Jack stepped out of their side of the duplex, in shorts, T-shirts, and tennis shoes.