“It was nice to meet you, Henry,” I called after his retreating back, pretending I didn’t see the pained expression on Charlie’s face at his grandfather’s not-so-subtle hint. When I did look back, Charlie was intent on peeling the label off his bottle.
His eyes lifted up to mine. “Sorry. He means well, but he doesn’t have any filter, and he’s positive that I’ll be happier if I have someone in my life, like what he had with my grandmother. She passed away two years ago, and he misses the hell out of her.” He paused. “Probably not exactly the phrasing I should use when talking about Grandma and the great beyond.”
I giggled. “I won’t tell if you don’t. And please, don’t worry about anything. Aunt Gail and my mom live to mortify me. They are both convinced that every man I meet is secretly and deeply in love with me. They can’t understand why I haven’t found true love and settled down yet.”
Charlie studied me, his lips twisting. “And why haven’t you?”
Nothing like putting a girl on the spot. “Um, I guess I haven’t met the right guy yet.” It was the standard line, trite but true.
“Are you looking?” His voice was low, and when I glanced up, his eyes were intent on me.
“That’s a tough question.” I stalled for time to think about how to be truthful without telling Charlie about my frog quest. I didn’t know why, but the idea of explaining to him that I was dating in order to write an article made me uncomfortable. I absolutely didn’t want him thinking I saw him as a frog, and why that was so important made me just as uneasy. “If I say yes, it makes me sound as though I’m on the prowl for a man. If I say no, it feels like I’m not open to the idea at all.”
“But you’re not dating anyone right now.” It was more of a statement than it was a question.
“No.” With one finger, I traced the handle of my mug. “I was kind of dating someone before I left Florida for the residency, but when I came back, I found out that we weren’t dating anymore.”
“You found out?” His forehead drew together. “Isn’t that usually something people decide together?”
“Jeremy decided it for both of us when he fell madly in love with another woman.” I shrugged. “Honestly, I wasn’t that upset. We’d just been convenient for each other for a long time, and at least Jeremy was smart enough to see that. He didn’t break my heart.”
“That’s something, at least.” Charlie leaned back in his chair, stretching. “Sounds like my last girlfriend. We’d been dating on and off for about four months, and when I told her I was moving to Florida, she said, ‘What a relief. I’ve been trying to figure out how to break things off for the last month.’”
I snorted and then, unable to help myself, broke into full out laughter. “That’s crazy. Why wouldn’t she just tell you?”
“Who knows. Maybe she was waiting for a sign. She was kind of flakey that way.” Charlie shook his head. “But like you said . . . she didn’t break my heart. In my own way, I was relieved to have an excuse to end things between us, too.”
“The only thing that annoyed me about what happened with Jeremy was that I’d been counting on moving in with him. That’s how I ended up over at Aunt Gail’s house: my parents sold their house, my roommate’s boyfriend moved into our apartment, taking my place, and Jeremy fell in love with Tess. So I moved here, for the time being at least.”
Charlie smiled again, and this time, it was somehow . . . warmer, and more intimate. The steady way he looked at me made something unfamiliar rise in my chest. It was almost like a tingle.
“Maybe moving into this neighborhood wasn’t in your plan, but I’m glad you did. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met you.”
I couldn’t look away from him. “I’m glad, too.” For a long, perfect moment, we sat there, just staring at each other, something new and sweet hovering between us.
And then Buster whined and pawed at my leg. The spell was broken. I drew in a deep breath and glanced out the window.
“Look, the rain stopped. I better try to get the dog around the block before it starts up again.” I stood up, finishing the last drops of my coffee, and began to move toward the sink to rinse out the cup.
“I’ll take care of that.” Charlie closed his fingers over mine on the mug handle, taking it from me and setting it on the counter. “You don’t want to miss your window of dryness here.”
“True.” That reminded me that I was still wearing a towel. “Would it be okay if I ran back home with your towel and changed my shirt? I don’t want to think about the comments Aunt Gail will get from the rest of the neighborhood if I walk around the block wearing a towel wrapped around me, and my shirt is still pretty see-through.”
“You probably don’t want to risk taking the extra time. It’s still looking ominous out there. Why don’t you just borrow a shirt from me?” He raised one eyebrow. “Or I guess I could walk around the block with you, keeping my body in front of yours, shielding you from prying eyes.”
I couldn’t prevent my lips from curling into a smile. “How thoughtful of you . . . but I think I’ll say yes to the shirt, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay.” Charlie lifted one shoulder. “An opportunity lost, but it’s your call. Come on, my room’s down here.”
I glanced down at Buster, who was sitting looking up at me, his small tail wagging. “Stay, Buster. I’ll be right back.”
He cocked his head as if questioning my judgement, and I bent to stroke his head before following Charlie down the short hallway into his bedroom, where he was rifling through a dresser drawer.
I took a minute to check out my surroundings. The room was tidy; although it was clearly set up as a guest room, Charlie had put his own stamp on it. There were books on the nightstand, and on the dresser, three jars of water held different plant clippings. He followed the direction of my gaze.
“Yeah, I tend to make use of whatever space I can find when I’m working with plants. I took those cuttings when Grampy and I went for a ride a little further south last week.” He passed me a black T-shirt, folded into a square. “This one should work.”
“Thanks.” I took the shirt, shaking it out. “Will the plants grow up here?”
“Not sure yet, but we’ll give it a shot. I might be able to splice them together with something else . . . well, you’re not interested in that.”
“No, really I am.” I hugged the T-shirt to me, against the towel. “I’d love to hear more about it. I don’t know much about plants, but I’d like to learn.”
“Maybe some time when you’re not trying to beat the weather.” He watched me for a minute and then gave his head a little shake. “I’ll let you get changed.”
I nudged the door partially shut behind his departing back, and with a few quick movements, I dropped towel, stripped off the damp shirt and replaced it with the large black one. I laughed a little when I looked down at the band name spelled out in white letters across the front.
Folding up the towel, I opened the door and stepped back into the hall, jumping in surprise when I nearly ran straight into Charlie, who was waiting just outside the room.
“Was the shirt okay?”
I posed a little, pulling the hem to stretch it over me. “It’s great. And one of my favorite groups. You’re a Blue October fan, too?”
Charlie’s face lit up. “Oh, yeah. I’ve seen them in Philly three times.”
“I’ve been to five concerts of theirs down here at the House of Blues.” I hugged my arms around my middle. “You should come with me to the next one.”
“Tell me when it is, and I’d love to go with you.” We stood again, watching each other, before I sighed.
“I guess I better get moving. Thanks for the use of the shirt. Do you want the towel back now, or should I wash it for you?”
“Nah, I’ll take care of it.” He took it from me. “You have a date with Buster.”
“I do.” I rolled up my wet shirt. “Thanks for everything. For taking us in, lending the towel—and the coffee, too.�
��
“Any time.” He swayed toward me just slightly, and for one heady, dizzying moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. But after a second’s pause, he stepped back, letting me pass by him first. I picked up Buster’s leash and tugged him toward the door.
I stopped with my hand on the doorknob. “I’ll return your shirt as soon as I can.”
“There’s no rush. I’m just across the yard, whenever you want.”
“I’ll remember that.” I took a deep breath. “See you around the neighborhood.”
“Yep. Stay dry.”
I walked down the front path without turning back, keeping my eyes trained on Buster’s jaunty tail and pretending I couldn’t feel Charlie’s gaze on my back as I went.
“WAIT NOW. TELL ME AGAIN what you’re doing, only this time, talk slower. I could’ve sworn you said you’re going on a series of first dates and then writing about it . . . but that’s got to be the wine talking, right?”
I flopped back onto the floor of what used to be my living room, once upon a time. Teddi was sprawled on the sofa just above me, with only her face and the hand holding her wine glass visible over the edge of the cushion.
This was something I’d missed since I’d gone on the residency and moved out of our apartment: hanging out with my best friend, no agenda, no big plans, just the two of us and a bottle of wine. As much as I loved Aunt Gail—and I did—there was something about confiding in the person who’d been my partner in crime since we’d been in junior high, with the sure knowledge that she’d understand exactly what I meant.
“You heard right,” I answered her now. “Fifty frogs. Well, forty-eight now. But I’d underestimated how freaking hard it is to get first dates.”
“Well, duh.” Teddi dangled her nearly-empty wine glass over the side of the couch. “Any chick our age could have told you that. Girls don’t sit at home alone on Friday nights for kicks, sweetheart.”
“I know that.” I sighed and crunched my neck up so that I could sip from my own glass. “I just thought that once I put it out in the universe that I was going to do this, it would all . . . I don’t know, fall into place for me. And then I met that guy the first night I went out—it seemed easy.”
Teddi snorted. “Until he invited you to a party for three.”
“Right. But even so, even though he was a total weirdo, I did get the first kiss in. Or the second, if you count Jeremy.”
“Uh huh. And nothing since?” She flipped onto her back, reaching over to the end table for the bottle of wine. With admirable dexterity, she popped off the cork with her thumb and tipped the bottle over her glass before holding it out to me. I lifted mine for a refill.
“Noooooo . . .” I bit the corner of my lip, thinking of my time the other day with Charlie. That hadn’t been a date by any means; yes, I’d thought that he might kiss me at one point, but he hadn’t. If he’d wanted to kiss me, he would have. We weren’t kids in high school who agonized over simple things like a kiss, were we? No. We were adults. What did a kiss mean to us?
“Vivi? Helllloooooo . . . where did you go? And why did you get that moony look on your face?” Teddi’s eyes narrowed. “There is someone else, isn’t there? And he’s not a frog. He’s a non-frog.”
“No.” I shook my head, my hair rubbing against the carpeted floor. “There’s no one else. Not really.”
“Now you’re fucking lying to me, sweetheart.” Teddi wagged one finger at me. “Come on. Don’t hold out on me. I’m living vicariously through you. I’m all settled down and boring and shit.”
“Don’t even start with me. You love your life. You love Shane, and you love living with him.” I raised my foot and nudged the sofa in lieu of kicking her gently.
“Of course I do. I’ve never been happier. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. But I still want to hear about your swinging single life.”
“It’s not so swinging. I told you, I can’t even find a second guy to take me on a first date.”
“Who were you thinking about a minute ago? The one you said you weren’t ‘really’ thinking about him? The non-frog.”
“Nobody. He’s just . . . this guy who lives in Aunt Gail’s neighborhood. I met him a few times, but it’s not anything. I don’t think it is, anyway.”
“Hmmm. Define not anything.” Teddi rested her chin on her fisted hand.
“I ran into him when I was walking Buster a few days ago, and we got caught in the rain. We talked for a long time when he invited me in, and for a second, I thought maybe he was going to make a move. But he didn’t.”
“Do you like him?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes. He’s a great guy, really interesting, and he’s hot, too. Not polished, model-dude hot, but hot like a real man. He works with plants and landscaping, and he’s got these arms . . . you know, the kind that make you imagine what they’d feel like wrapped around you. Or all strong and tensed when he holds himself above you.” I fanned myself with one hand. “So. Freaking. Sexy.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Well, Vivi, why don’t you go for it? Even if he didn’t make a move, why can’t you?”
I pushed myself to sit up. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m imagining something between us. It could be wishful thinking. And I honestly do like him. What if we’re just meant to be friends?” I picked up the small cocktail napkin I’d been using and folded it into a triangle. “I feel like . . . I missed all the signals with Jeremy, you know? I thought we had a future, and then I came home, and there was Tess. So now I don’t trust myself to be able to read the signs.”
“Vivian.” Teddi sat up, too, crossing her legs and gazing down at me, dismay etched on her face. “Seriously? What happened to you on that train? Did they, like, brainwash you? Because you didn’t misread anything with Jeremy. May I remind you of our conversation the night before you left?”
I frowned. “Umm . . . you mean after I came home from Jeremy’s house? When I said that Shane should move in while I was away, since I was probably going to move in with Jeremy once I got back? Yeah, I vaguely recall that talk.”
Teddi rolled her eyes. “Clearly you don’t, because that’s not at all what you told me. I mean, yeah, the part about Shane moving in you, you said that. But you didn’t say you were probably moving in with Jeremy. You said that him bringing it up made you realize that Shane living here was a no-brainer. You told me that when you got home, you thought maybe you’d like to get your own place.”
“No.” I brought my knees up and wrapped my arms around my legs. “I didn’t say that, did I? I don’t remember.”
“Yes, honey, you did. You didn’t take Jeremy’s offer seriously. You never took Jeremy seriously. How could you? The two of you were never really committed. Neither of you cared enough to work harder or to walk away. You were placeholders for each other until the real thing came along.”
I knit my brow together. “But all those times you told me that Jeremy and I had such a mature relationship . . . I didn’t imagine that, did I?”
Teddi laughed, dropping her head to the back of the sofa. “No, but after I said it, we always giggled and said that maturity was overrated.”
That did ring a bell. It sounded like something Teddi and I would say. “So you’re saying that I have train-inspired amnesia?”
“Oh, Vivi. I don’t know, sweetie, but something happened over those three months you were away. It’s like you lost your mojo or something. You left Vivian fucking Rexland and came back just a little lost.” She lifted her goblet and took a drink. “But you know, maybe this frog idea is the perfect way to reclaim yourself. You’ll have fun, write an amazing article that’ll get picked up by some big news organization, and you’ll go on talk shows and shit. Oh, and of course, you’ll also meet the love of your life, who will not be a frog.”
I huffed out a breath and fell flat on my back again. “None of that is going to happen if I don’t get another first date. What if I can only get one first date every six months, and it takes me twenty-five ye
ars to write this piece?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She pushed her lips out, thinking. “You just need to look at a place where the creep factor is lower and the potential for decent guys is high.” She tilted her head a little. “You know . . . I think I might have an idea. One of my friends at work goes to this single adult group at her church. It’s not set up for finding dates, exactly, but she told me that a bunch of women have actually met their husbands at the meetings. Why not give it a try? I mean, it’s basically the opposite of trolling a bar for a man, and it’ll make your article more well-rounded.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” I’d grown up in the Episcopal church and still attended a few times a month, but our congregation was much older. I usually brought the average age down by a good thirty years when I was there. Consequently, our church didn’t offer anything like a youth group or fellowship opportunities for singles. “Where is it? What church?”
“Sherrill Avenue Community Church. They meet on Friday nights.” She smirked. “Don’t expect them to have wine. They’re not loosey-goosey Episcopalians, you know.”
“Hey, Jesus drank wine. That’s why He and I get along so well.” I drained my glass. “All right, then. Tomorrow night, the frog quest moves to a new set of lily pads.”
“Hey, are you new here?”
I stifled a sigh and turned in my seat to answer that question for the sixth time in the past fifteen minutes. No one could accuse the Sherrill Avenue Community Church of not being welcoming.
But this time, the person asking the question was a man. And he was actually fairly cute, with large blue eyes and short sandy blond hair, which gave him a serious leg up over the other people who’d inquired about my status.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, this is the first time I’ve been here.” I hooked my elbow over the back of my chair and bent my knee to face him more fully. “Everyone’s been very, um, friendly.”
Fifty Frogs Page 10
