Do Overs

by Hebert, Cerian

That flash of emotion when Colin took my hand filled my brain again. I hadn’t thought about it for hours. What was I doing? Why encourage Misty to be a better girlfriend?

  “Don’t tell me what I feel.” Her mouth tightened into a thin line and her fists clenched at her sides.

  I chuckled. “Why not? I’m enjoying it. One of these days your cheating is going to bite you in the butt.”

  “You didn’t tell Colin about Tom, did you?” A little fear slid into her voice. I swear she actually squirmed.

  “Is that his name? They all look the same. No, I didn’t tell Colin, but maybe he needs to know. Let me give you a little piece of advice. Stop screwing around with all these guys or you’re going to find yourself in a position you’re really going to regret. Colin doesn’t deserve to be treated badly.”

  Misty tilted her chin up and narrowed her eyes. “And I have a piece of advice. Mind your own business. And stay away from Colin.”

  Without another word, she turned and marched out of my room.

  As soon as she slammed her bedroom door, my shoulders slumped as the tension slid away from my muscles.

  Thank God that’s over.

  Well, I tried. I gave her a warning of what might come. What Misty did with my advice was her business. I had no idea if I had changed her future.

  I finished my hair, slid on a pair of comfortable black pumps, and grabbed my purse. I needed to be outside in the fresh air to clear my head before meeting Bob.

  Pressure built inside me again. Could I really give up the life I’d established with him? Throw us away in favor of some passion I briefly encountered with Colin? God, I couldn’t even be sure what I’d felt for Colin was real.

  Of course these thoughts weren’t real. A flash in my brain, that’s all. Wishful thinking.

  Best forgotten.

  A figment of my overstressed imagination. Better forgotten.

  Realistic, passionate and mind blowing. How could I ever forget?

  I squeezed my eyes shut, and then opened them. My head throbbed. Too much thinking. Too much worrying.

  I needed to rid myself of all this tension somehow, so, I skipped the cab and walked to meet Bob. More fresh air, more time to think about what in hell’s name I was doing and going to do. Part of me wanted to go home. Back to the comfort of my penthouse, my comfortable bed, all the luxuries Bob and I worked hard for. I wanted to get lost in the crowds of New York City, see a show, and go to a museum. Do something normal and ordinary. “Ordinary,” I muttered.

  Yep, that pretty much summed up my life in New York City. Despite the luxuries, I lived an ordinary, vanilla life.

  But hadn't I wanted more than ordinary? I craved the extraordinary. So what the heck went wrong? My skull tightened around the throb in my forehead. A headache was better than crying, though tears stung my eyes, begging for release.

  I arrived early to The Common House, so I wandered back to Tommy’s Park. Twice in one day, I found a seat and gazed at the building where I used to live. Bob lived there too. I hadn’t known it until after he moved.

  He used to play one of those little electric keyboards and, before I knew him, I’d listen to his music. Sometimes street preachers stood at the corner of Exchange and Middle Street, yelling about fire and brimstone. Bob would play his keyboard through his open window, ominous music that went along with the words coming from the preacher in the park. His sense of humor made me laugh.

  Even now I smiled at that memory, appreciating the wit of the unknown musician and the annoyance on the face of the preacher who tried to be earnest and powerful. When I met Bob and found out he’d been the mystery pianist I’d immediately been intrigued. I quickly became interested in the pleasant looking guy with glasses, nice smile, and sharp mind.

  My smile died.

  What had happened to the fun streak? It didn’t stick around very long. Maybe the whole music thing had been a fluke. When I met him there wasn’t much of that guy left. At least I didn’t have to shoulder the blame for Bob’s inner fun side disappearance. I could only take responsibility for the disappearance of me.

  Bob showed up at exactly the correct time. I didn’t move from my spot, but watched him. Tall and attractive in a quiet kind of way. Not the type who stopped women in their tracks, but nothing to complain about. His looks pretty much stuck around over the years, well, the years to come. He added more belly and lost a lot of hair, but he remained pleasant looking. Would still be attractive.

  I waited for some kind of reaction from my heart, even a little rush of adrenaline, knowing one day he’d be my husband. I sucked in my breath and thought of our first night together, which hadn’t happened yet.

  Curiously, my heart didn’t go pitty-pat. The butterflies really never happened, which I regretted, but Bob was a good guy. Sweet and steady.

  I made my way to the restaurant and met Bob exactly at the appointed time. But as he held the door open for me I balked. If today was all about new paths and doing things differently, then I’d do this right. And drag Bob with me.

  “Let’s go somewhere else.”

  Bob looked down at me, brows furrowed. We loved The Common House. It had become our spot. I had nothing against it. In fact The Common House was probably my favorite restaurant in Portland, but I didn’t want to be here tonight. Tonight, with my rebirth, I wanted to change things. Ease up on the seriousness.

  I wanted us to eat pizza and wander around the Old Port, hand in hand. Maybe stop in at one of the bars later on when things were hopping. So many options and I wanted to grab as many as I could. I looked up at Bob. This could be our only shot. The excitement thrummed through me. Surely Bob would see that.

  I didn’t want to turn middle aged before we were middle aged.

  “Lila, really.” He gave me a confused frown then glanced back at the doors to the restaurant.

  I grabbed his hand, needing to pull him away from the rut we’d already fallen into. “No, not tonight. Tonight we’re going to bar hop. Maybe find a place to dance.”

  “Dance?” Bob’s voice sounded a bit weak.

  I swear he turned a little green. Bob didn’t like to dance. Maybe I could change that. “Yeah. And eat raw oysters. Let’s live a little.”

  “Lila, you just lost your job. This is hardly the time to celebrate.”

  I pulled him toward the sidewalk. “Who’s talking about celebrating? I’m talking about living like twenty-something’s. You’re too young to be so stuffy.”

  Grudgingly he followed me down Exchange Street. I found us the pizza at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant tucked in between a fifties retro bar and a photography shop. I ordered us two gigantic slices of pepperoni pizza, accompanied by two large mugs of the cheapest beer on tap. We sat at a little table in the corner and I enjoyed the best meal ever. Bob still looked green.

  He barely smiled, had barely spoken three words since we sat. I caught him glancing out the window on several occasions, and even more often, checking his watch. I wanted to snatch that damned watch right off his wrist and throw it out with our paper plates. But I let him be. He loved that watch and I hoped he would be distracted enough later to forget about the time.

  After pizza, I dragged him by the hand back up one side of the street and down the other, window-shopping. Pausing at a rack of bright silk scarves, I wrapped one around my neck. “What do you think?”

  Bob gave it a cursory glance and shrugged. “Not for an office, but I guess for weekends it would be okay.”

  I pressed my lips together in mild irritation and hung the scarf back up. Fine. He didn’t like splashy accessories.

  As we walked along, I tried to get him to talk, joke a little.

  I elbowed him lightly in the side. “Have you ever seen such a big mohawk? What do you think she has in common with the guy she’s with?” I pointed at a girl in raggy, army green pants and tight black tank top. Her red and yellow mohawk must have spiked a good seven inches into the air. Next to her walked a man, her polar opposite wearing a business suit a
nd sunglasses.

  Bob mumbled a response.

  Music blared from some stores, a mix of good old eighties pop music, garage band punk, and reggae.

  I bubbled. Bob sulked. I was truly sorry he hated every moment because I loved every second of our evening. So if I couldn’t change his bad mood, I’d ignore it.

  “I love the Old Port.” I inhaled deeply. Ocean air mingled with the spicy scents of the Thai restaurant we walked past. I tucked my arm through his. “Promise me if we ever leave we’ll come back at least once a year.”

  “What in God’s name are you talking about?” Bob’s voice mixed bafflement with a heavy dose of annoyance.

  I stopped and turned to him, slipping my arms around his waist. I needed to feel something from him. Even an inkling of what could be for us.

  “I’m talking about us not forgetting this place. No matter where we go from here. Who knows, maybe someday we’ll be living in Manhattan and be fabulously successful and wealthy. If we are, I don’t want to forget the Old Port.” I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against his chest.

  This time the flash wasn’t much of a flash, more like looking through water. There we were in our penthouse. The same penthouse I lived in just yesterday. And that was it. Contentment for where we lived. Satisfaction for my success at the office. Pride in our accomplishments.

  All wrapped in discontentment, with loneliness as the bow. The card read, my life could have been so much more.

  But I surrendered the thought. I kept my eyes closed and inhaled Bob’s scent, familiar as everything else because it was the same scent he’d wear for the rest of our tepid lives together. I pulled away from him and released my hold. “Never mind.” My voice came out weak with disappointment. “Come on. One more stop.” This time I didn’t take his hand and he didn’t reach for mine. I didn’t mind too much. I had no desire to see anything more of our future together. I’d lived that life for twenty years.

  When we reached a hugely popular corner pub, we met up with my roommate, Sarah and her boyfriend, Eric. I didn’t think Sarah was any more pleased at Bob’s presence than he was to be there. But we needed to deal with his aversion to fun, get over it. We found a place at one of the long tables. I asked Bob to get us a basket of popcorn.

  He shot me a pained look from behind those wire-rimmed glasses and his mouth dropped a fraction. Saying nothing, he stood slowly, radiating disbelief.

  He went over to the popcorn maker, picked up a basket, stared at it, looked at me, looked at the popcorn, and then shook his head. He filled the basket. Instead of returning to his seat next to me, though, he gently put the basket down in front of me.

  “I can’t do this anymore, Lila. It’s getting late and I have to work in the morning. I’m sure Sarah will make sure you get home safely.”

  And with that, Bob disappeared through the crowd.

  I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I shut it quickly and shook my head.

  Go after him, you idiot. The forty-four year old voice inside my head yelled loudly. You’re ruining everything and for what?

  For what indeed? I should have been scared, shaking in my pumps at the very thought I may have tossed my comfortable future right in the trash.

  Or maybe not. Maybe he’d call in the morning and everything would be the same as it had been. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—run after him just to make sure we were good.

  Fate would have to decide.

  “Wow. That was cold.”

  I glanced at Eric and lifted a shoulder, my attempt to be blasé when I actually had some anxious jitters scattering around my belly. No, I didn’t think I’d been dumped. I thought Bob would’ve been a bit more straightforward than that. He was just done for the night.

  He’d get over it. So would I.

  But rather than dwell on Bob’s departure, I planned to enjoy the evening with a little Lime N’ Lager, a basket of popcorn, and time with my best girlfriend. Maybe I wouldn’t go home until closing time for once. And I wouldn’t worry about Bob’s issues.

  When Colin moved through the crowd toward us, I nearly melted into a lustful puddle under the table. Those images and sensations that exploded in me when he had taken my hand earlier in the day came back full force, like standing in the middle of a fireworks display, sparks and fire bursting all around me. Dangerous and exciting all at once. Misty’s bitter accusations and demand that I stay away from him echoed in the back of my mind, but I shoved them aside.

  Misty wasn’t with Colin and the half grin on his face was aimed at me. I sucked in my breath. Damn it. Breathe! The lust swirling in my brain didn’t leave room for any other thought.

  “Can I join you?”

  “No Misty?”

  I was glad Sarah asked because I had no courage to. I think I already filled my quota of problems with regard to their relationship.

  “Nope. She’s busy tonight, I guess.” He slid onto the bench next to me, grinning. “The sketch came out great.”

  “Sketch?” Sarah’s brows raised and she tilted her head.

  I shot her a guilty smile. She had no clue about my day other than the date with Bob. I had a lot of ‘splaining to do. Sarah would cheer for Colin though. I hoped she missed the lust written in my eyes when he joined us. She’d use that against me for sure, possibly trying to play matchmaker.

  I so didn’t need that.

  As much as the thought of hooking up with Colin stirred my adrenaline, I didn’t want him thinking I needed to be fixed up.

  “Long story, I’ll explain later.” I mumbled and took a long draw of my beer. I didn’t want to get into an explanation now, not with Colin sitting so close to me. Instead I concentrated on the cold beer with the twist of lime sliding down my throat. Wow, I’d forgotten how much I liked those Lime N’ Lagers. Much more refreshing than a straight beer.

  Sarah furrowed her brows. “Looking forward to our chat.”

  She and Eric shared another beer before excusing themselves, leaving me alone with Colin. Well, as alone as we could be surrounded by dozens of people. The place buzzed with conversation and music. Thick cigarette smoke hung in the air. That’s right. Smoking hadn’t been outlawed in bars. It would take me a week to get the smell out of my clothes.

  Colin leaned up against me. Lusty thrills ran through my body straight to the pit of my belly. I found it difficult to talk over the noise, but we got bits and pieces back and forth. Small talk. If I were really brave I’d ask him if he wanted to leave.

  Fortunately, he was braver than me. As soon as I finished my drink, he leaned over and put his mouth by my ear. If I’d been standing, no doubt I would have slid to the floor.

  “Please tell me you need some fresh air as much as I do.”

  I nodded quickly, grabbed my purse, and managed to swing my leg over the bench without kicking the girl next to me. Colin cleared a path for us to the exit, and soon the cool sweet air hit me.

  “Someday they’re going to outlaw smoking in bars.” I didn’t think my declaration would be too shocking or out of left field.

  “Wouldn’t that be nice.”

  I had no idea where we were going. We just wandered along the sidewalk then turned at Exchange Street, our shoulders bumping together, hands touching, but not holding.

  I couldn’t find the nerve to take his hand in mine. Instead I hoped he’d make the first move. The thought of our fingers linked sent a pleasant heat melting through my heart. We didn’t get too far before Colin stopped in his tracks, took hold of my arm, and pulled me against him.

  Finally.

  The kiss caught me completely unprepared. His mouth pressed against mine, lips insistent and hungry.

  Another flash hit me like a rocket, but despite the passion in Colin’s kiss I didn’t get the same sense of romance and desire. Instead Colin and I fought. But more than that, disappointment, anger, and broken heart accompanied this flash. Like a fist, heartbreak crushed what I had hoped could be love.

  That I didn’t need. Maybe tomorrow morn
ing I’d wake up in my old body and Bob would be next to me and I’d get up and resume my life. I could deal with that. But I couldn’t and wouldn’t deal with spending this night with a guy who could bring such desolation into my life.

  I pushed him away and took a quick step back. “Stop that.” I rubbed a hand over my mouth hoping to wipe away the vision of us fighting and the heartache that horrifying future carried.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” Colin held out his hand as if to summon me back to him.

  What did he think? I’d reach out and say, “oh silly me,” and forget everything? No.

  I took another step backward.

  “Just…you’re Misty’s boyfriend.” I tried to keep my voice cool and level, but I heard it crack.

  “Come on, Lila, you know damned well she’s cheating on me. I appreciate you trying to cover for her, but I’m not an idiot.”

  He took a step forward, his hand still out. I took another step back. The expression on his face changed subtly, from desire to annoyance. His eyes narrowed and lips tightened, curling up a fraction. Did he think really all women swooned over him? Of course, they probably did. I was proof positive that Colin could give a woman a smile and they’d turn into a puddle at his feet.

  Hadn’t I done just that? Swooned like I’d never swooned before? Crap. How big an idiot am I?

  “It’s okay, Lila. We have a connection. I know you felt it.” His silky, seductive voice invited me to be foolish, to fall for it, to ignore everything that raged through my head, all for a sexy voice and incredibly blue eyes.

  I squeezed my fingers into tight fists and managed to hold on to a scrap of self-control. I lifted my chin and shook my head.

  “I’m not going to kiss you again. I don’t know what you thought, but I’m not…I’m dating someone. I have to go.” I tried to push past him, horrified at how I tripped over my words. My decent command of the English language abandoned me and in its place a cold sick swirl twisted in my gut telling me I made an awful mistake.

  Colin stepped into my path, blocking my escape. His sexy smile slid into a more menacing sneer. The humor I’d appreciated earlier in the day faded to an iciness that gripped my heart. I glanced around us, not pleased to see there wasn’t a soul in sight.