Purely Relative (The P.U.R.E.)

by Claire Gillian

  Rising up, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. “Don’t give me that look. Everybody does it. How was I to know the thing was booby trapped,” I said to the disapproving twin in the mirror. She shook her head, prompting a current of shame to ripple through.

  What to do about the crossword puzzle book though? I flipped the pages. Its owner had completed over two-thirds of the puzzles. The ink ran down the pages and made a smeary mess. Ruined. I’d have to buy another one. I checked the front cover. Special Edition from a year ago. Well, wasn’t that dandy? I’d have to buy a new one of a similar difficulty level, at least.

  The door handle rattled. I had set the lock, thank goodness. “Gayle, are you still in there?” asked the voice on the other side. Sophia. Of course it was. “Everything okay?”

  Panicked, I checked the garbage can, but it was empty, nothing to hide the evidence amongst. “Just fine. Almost done!” Nowhere else to stash the evidence, either.

  A small window caught my eye. The glass was opaque, intended to let in light but keep peeping Toms out. I flushed the toilet for cover noise, unlatched the window and turned a crank handle. The window pivoted outward. No screen barred my way, thank goodness. A quick look outside and I realized I faced out toward the driveway. Christine sat nearby. I tossed the book, which landed with a sodden plop near one of her front passenger wheels. Perfect! After re-securing the window, I washed the pen in soapy water, checking to make sure I hadn’t ruined it, too, and returned it to the cabinet.

  That’s when I noticed the folded up piece of paper lying on the floor between the toilet and the sink.

  I picked it up, unable to squelch my curiosity. Had it been there all along or had it been in the crossword puzzle book I tossed out the window? The paper felt dry, so it could have survived the Acapulco cliff dive by parasailing to the side. Unfolding the paper to its full 8 1/2 by 11 size revealed a work order from Kruger’s Jewelry. The description just said “Custom order #4536—sizing included. Balance due: $8,900.” In bold handwriting someone had written, “By November 27th.” A day away! Who did the order belong to, what was it for, and why was it in the bathroom? Someone was spending a sizeable chunk of change, especially if that was the balance due.

  My foolish, narcissistic heart raced as an outrageous idea took shape. Jon and I had only been dating a short while, had only known each other a few months. Yet he did swear to me the first night we made love that he’d marry me ... someday. But surely he’d just been spouting blustery romantic stuff in the heat of the moment. Could my brush with a handgun to my forehead have spurred him into hastier action? Could the order be for a ring, as in engagement ring? Whoa.

  What would I say if he did ask me? I chewed on my lower lip as I contemplated how I’d respond. Truth was, it was too soon. Way too soon. Wasn’t it?

  I gave myself a shake. No time to worry about the possibility. I had a crossword puzzle crisis to remedy and a hostile on the other side of the door.

  I let myself out to return to Jon and his family and friends. Sophia must have given up and gone to another bathroom. The immediate threat avoided, I backtracked and took an alternate path of reason. I assumed the paper’s owner was a visitor to the Cripps family home. Being a guest powder room near the living room and kitchen meant it saw the most diversity in traffic, which only broadened the field of candidates.

  If the order was for an engagement ring, Scott was the most obvious choice. He had probably dropped or stashed the paper, which meant he and Jenny were finally setting a date? But they had been engaged for years, so wouldn’t she already have an engagement ring? I wracked my visual memories for one of a ring on Jenny’s hand but couldn’t dredge up anything. The paperwork wasn’t necessarily for a ring, though. A watch or bracelet could be sized too, which meant it could belong to either of Jon’s parents and probably did. With a sigh, I refolded the paper, stuffed it back in the medicine cabinet, and returned to the dining room.

  Any red-blooded woman, especially a Texan, would love jewelry for Christmas. Whoever she was, she was very, very lucky.

  Everyone had left the table and gathered in the living room by the time I rejoined them. Jon waved me over to the loveseat next to him. Jenny sat opposite him, too far away to get a clear view of her hands. Phooey!

  “Tell us how school is, Jason,” Sophia asked before bringing her coffee cup to freshly repainted lips.

  Jason’s mouth quirked up at the corners. He cut his eyes over to his mother first before answering. “Fine. I’m ready to get out of the dorm, though.”

  “Nothing wrong with the dormitories at UT,” his father said. He leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, hands clasped around his knee.

  “Oh? You go to UT?” I asked Jason at the mention of my own alma mater.

  Jason smiled. “Yes. Did you?”

  “I sure did. I lived in the dorms, too. Couldn’t afford it any other way, but I didn’t mind so much. I had some fun times there.”

  “True, but there’s next to no privacy, is there?” Jason wrinkled his nose. He was a doll—slightly darker than his father but fairer than Jon, and with enough similarities to Jon to be just as gorgeous.

  I assessed Jenny next, hoping to catch a peek at her ring finger. Dark hair and dark eyes like Jon, she was a much taller version of her mother, much, much taller. Whew, Mr. and Mrs. Cripps sure did make pretty babies. Wonder what Jon’s and my babies would look like?

  Stop that!

  Stop what?

  Stop wondering about babies. You have no business even thinking the word.

  Babies, babies, babies. I can think the word, silly. Doesn’t mean I want one. I mean I do, eventually, but not yet. No harm in wondering. Sheesh, what an uptight conscience you are.

  One of us has to be.

  “Gayle?”

  Hearing my name snapped me out of my reverie. “I’m sorry. What?”

  Jon said, “We were thinking about heading out to catch the five-thirty showing of the new James Bond flick. Jenny, Scott, Jason, and you and me. Are you up for that?”

  “Oh, yes! Yes. Sounds like fun!” Remembering my manners, I turned to Jon’s mother. “Can I help you clean up before we go?”

  Julie smiled. “Absolutely not. Dishes are their job.” She pointed a finger at the two husbands.

  “My favorite tradition!” Sophia said laughing. “You kids go, go! Enjoy the movie.” She stood and walked toward me. “Gayle, it was ... lovely to meet you. You take good care of my Jon.” I thought she might have lifted an eyebrow, but I was one hundred percent sure there was a warning in her words.

  The setting sun outside hid my scurry over to Christine to nab the crossword puzzle book and slip it inside the car before Jon or anyone else noticed. Jon lingered over a few last minute words with Alex Milano, allowing me ample time to slip the book under Christine’s floor mat. I’d worry about getting it out of Christine undetected later. Crisis averted ... for now. I’d still have to somehow replace the magazine with a new one. A worry to sort out later.

  ***

  Jenny wasn’t wearing a ring.

  I was both excited and saddened by that. Excited because the order form had to belong to Scott, and saddened for two reasons, one rational and one irrational. The rational? Jenny had waited for five long years for an engagement ring, way too long. The irrational? I had been stupid enough to let my imagination run away with me for my own personal reasons.

  Note to self: People didn’t get engaged after a few dates. So what if they’d been secretly carrying the torch for each other for months. So what if the lovemaking was off-the-charts amazing. So what if they’d stared down the barrel of a gun together, realizing how precious life and time were.

  If Jon hadn’t insisted he’d marry me “someday” I never would have entertained the wild idea. Never. He’d planted it, though, and I’d added a thick coating of fertilizer. Stupid, silly girl.

  We said our goodbyes at the theater’s exit. The sun had fully set but the exterior lights blazed at full blast.
The autumn air prompted me to don the coat I carried.

  Scott draped his arm around Jenny’s shoulders and led her to his white Mercedes, while Jon, Jason, and I climbed into Christine.

  I shivered in my seat and as if on cue, the heater turned on and blasted warm air on me. The heater was probably on a thermostat and the second he turned the ignition key it must have started, except I wasn’t sure he had turned the key before I felt the heat. Jon chuckled and reached over to adjust the gauges. The airflow simmered down to a slightly slower speed.

  After we’d pulled out of the parking lot, Jon glanced in his rearview mirror. “Is Kat coming up, Jason?”

  “Yeah, she’s driving up on Saturday, then we’ll both head back to Austin on Monday morning.”

  “Is Kat your girlfriend?” I asked, twisting in my seat so I could see his face.

  He offered a noncommittal, ‘eh’ I took for a yes.

  I had to smile. “So, did you fly home or what? How’d you get here from Austin if your girlfriend’s taking you back?”

  “I hitched a ride with my friend Tully.”

  “How is Tully?” Jon asked.

  “Ornery as ever, especially around Kat,” Jason said.

  “They don’t get along?” I asked.

  Jon shot me a sidelong glance. “Tully hates all of Jason’s girlfriends.” In a singsong voice he added, “And no one has an inkling why!”

  “Oh shut up, Jon. As usual you are way off base. Tully is not like that at all.” Jason’s tone boasted fifty shades of exasperation. Guess he didn’t appreciate being teased about his gay best friend.

  “Uh-huh,” Jon said.

  I darted my eyes back and forth between the two brothers, but neither said another word, and the car fell into awkward silence.

  “I’m really glad you came today. Everybody loved you, especially my mother,” Jon said to me in a subdued tone.

  A quick glance over my shoulder revealed Jason to be engrossed with his smart phone, snickering to himself as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

  “Thanks for inviting me. You really think so? She didn’t say much.”

  “She never does, but I could tell,” Jon said.

  “You could? Huh.”

  “She was definitely checking you out,” Jason piped in mid-text. “You gotta remember though that she’s been rooting for Team Thalia for years ... and years and years.”

  “Jason....” Jon warned.

  “It’s okay, Jon,” I said. “I know it’s true. Why wouldn’t it be? She’s never met me before yet, all of a sudden, here I am! Ta da!”

  “Jenny really liked you. Told you you’d have nothing to worry about with her.” Jon reached over and tugged a lock of my hair.

  “Why would she have worried about Jenny?” Jason asked.

  “None of your business,” Jon snapped, far too vehemently.

  No doubt sniffing a story, Jason persisted. “Why were you worried about Jenny’s opinion, Gayle? She’s actually very mellow.”

  “Uh....” I paused to cook up a believable lie. “Jon was supposed to work on her car one night, only he didn’t show up until really late. I was worried she might have seen me as an interloper in more ways than one. But I was very wrong. She was lovely.” To Jon I said, “I really liked her, actually, a lot more than I thought I would.”

  “You’re a lot alike.”

  “You really are,” Jason said.

  “Except she’s much taller than me.”

  “Everybody is taller than you.” Jon shot me a teasing glance. From anyone else, my hackles would have risen. To Jon I granted special liberties.

  “That’s gonna cost you later, mister,” I said.

  “I’m sure I’ll be ... up to the challenge,” Jon shot back with a mischievous grin. Guess that told me where his head was, both of them.

  “Ugh, impressionable younger brother in the back seat in case you forgot!”

  I blushed and turned to smile at Jason, but his eyes were cast down at his smart phone’s display, fingers flying. A few seconds later he burst out laughing. “Tully says you’re a whore dog, Jon.”

  “You tell Tully to butt out!” Jon said laughing. “Little brat!”

  More snickering from the back seat followed by guffaws as Jason and Tully texted each other. The laughter continued until we turned into the Cripps’ majestic driveway and dropped the youngest son off at the back door.

  “I’m going to strangle her the next time I see her,” Jon said after we’d entered the highway to the apartment community we both lived in.

  “Who’s that?” I asked. Jon often spoke without context and though I had acquired a master’s degree in Jonology, he’d plucked his last statement from thin air.

  “Tully,” he said calmly.

  “Tully’s a she?”

  Jon laughed. “You thought she was a he?” He laughed again. “Tully is short for Tallulah, which she hates. The only girl I ever knew who actually shut up my smack-talking little brother ... with a left uppercut and a knee to the nuts. They’ve been fast friends ever since.”

  “She beat Jason up when they were little kids?” I snickered at the image of a little tomboy in braids and missing a few baby teeth delivering such a lethal one-two.

  “Not that little. They were in the seventh grade at the time.” The smile faded from his face. She’s been in love with Jason for years but he’s absolutely blind to it, refuses to believe it. Tully of course denies it vehemently, but that’s just her defense mechanism kicking in. They’re both ridiculous, they’re so deeply in denial.”

  “Well that’s sad, especially since he’s dating another woman.”

  “Yeah, it really is. I don’t even think Jason even realizes Tully’s a female anymore.” He shook his head, a slight frown in place.

  My heart ached a little for the woman who not only kept her love under wraps, but denied it.

  Chapter 5

  As we left the neighborhood, I decided to come clean. “I need you to pop in to the nearest grocery store,” I said.

  “I don’t think much is going to be open but we’ll check it out. Why? What do you need?” Jon turned onto a busy surface street. In the distance a Safeway sign blazed.

  “I sort of had an accident at your parents’ and dropped one of their crossword puzzle books into the toilet. I need to buy a new one to replace it.”

  Jon laughed and shook his head. “Gayle.” More head shaking ensued.

  “I’m sorry. It was an accident. Honest!” I clasped my hands more tightly together.

  “I don’t think you need to worry about it,” he said with a smug grin.

  “I feel so guilty. I don’t mind buying another one. They’re only a few bucks. I feel bad enough. I only—”

  “Gayle. Seriously. Calm down. It’s not a big deal. But how did it end up in the toilet?”

  Confession time. I couldn’t lie to Jon, but I didn’t have to gush out the whole gory story either, especially with the gory evidence right below my feet getting Christine’s floor mats wet. “It fell.”

  “As opposed to your shooting hoops with it.”

  I ground my molars together. “I said it was an accident. Why does it matter how it happened?”

  “I’m sorry. It doesn’t.” He shot an amused grin my way. “You don’t need to buy another one, though. That was my crossword puzzle book.”

  Relief flooded me, though there was always the possibility he was simply trying to ease my distress. On the other hand, if it really was his puzzle book, and the receipt fell out of it, did that mean Jon ordered the ring? OMG, OMG, OMG! I stole a glance at his expression. He didn’t have one. What a time for a poker face! Fine. I’d just have to sniff around the edges a little.

  “You do crossword puzzles in your parents’ powder room?” I asked, my arms crossed.

  “Used to. When I first moved back to Dallas, I didn’t want to move in with Thalia just yet so I crashed at their home for about a month until I found an apartment and got all moved in.” The express
ion Jon wore remained noncommittal, neither sincere nor teasing.

  As much as my curiosity goaded me into asking about the ring, any mention of such—if the paperwork was in fact Jon’s, and damn Kruger’s for not putting a name on it—would surely tip him off that I knew. I couldn’t do that. The presumptiveness that he’d do such a thing so early in our relationship was an unhealthy place for my head to hang out. However, the possibility that he might actually have ordered an engagement ring scared the bejeesus out of me. I did not want to have such a serious conversation. We hadn’t been together long enough to wear such a heavy coat. Best to drop it.

  With a sigh, I uncrossed my arms and leaned back into my seat. I scavenged for a new discussion topic. “So, small world that your sister knows my brother, huh?”

  A hint of a smile curled the edges of his mouth. “Yeah.”

  Okay, he obviously didn’t find that tidbit as fascinating as I had. Next topic. “Scott was certainly … interesting.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I had a certain impression of him before I arrived at your parents’, then a different one when I first met him, then it changed again, like midstream, once he mentioned the Bible and Jenny said he was a born again Christian. I found that a little weird.”

  Jon made a guttural exhale. “Scott likes to play head games.”

  Mulling that over a second, I sensed some truth to it, given that Scott had been trussing me up like a Thanksgiving bird he planned on devouring minutes before broadcasting his faith. “Head games? With me?”

  “With anyone and everyone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s good at it.” Jon turned into a gas station. “Sorry. Just a quick pit stop. The fuel gauge says half a tank but I’m pretty sure I’m running on empty. Christine likes to play a few head games of her own.”

  “No problem,” I said laughing. I sat there and fidgeted a few seconds, then remembered the wet crossword magazine. Reaching beneath the mat, I pulled out the wavy and distorted book. Jon said it was his and he no longer wanted it. Trashing it would be the sensible thing to do … yet I couldn’t do it. “Be right back,” I yelled over my shoulder as I jogged into the convenience store.