Sundered Hearts

by Anna J. McIntyre

  “Escrow closes next week, and I really wanted to move on Sunday. But the guy I hired called me this morning with some lame excuse as to why he can’t make it. I’ll figure out something tomorrow.”

  “Where are you moving?” John asked.

  “I rented an apartment across town. I’m not taking much furniture. Sam and I divided it up a few months ago and sold what neither of us wanted. I have mostly boxes, so I suppose I can move most of it myself. It’ll just take longer, and I’ll need to take a few days off work.”

  “I could help,” John offered. “I’m sure I can find someone with a truck.”

  “I have a truck. I’ll help,” Brandon offered. “I’m not doing anything on Sunday.”

  “Oh, Sunday… I forgot…” John began.

  “Hey, no problem,” Susan told him. “I’ll figure out something. It was sweet of you guys to offer.”

  “No, I can help,” John insisted. “It just has to be in the morning. I have a side job in the afternoon, and I really can’t put it off.”

  “I can be there in the morning, too,” Brandon said.

  “See, Brandon has offered his truck,” John said with a smile. “No reason to worry about it. We can get you moved Sunday morning.”

  “Okay, if you guys are sure. I’ll be happy to pay you.”

  “We don’t want your money,” John insisted.

  “But we will move for beer,” Brandon added with a laugh.

  “I can do beer!” Susan said. “But only if you promise to wait until after the move before you drink it.”

  “Deal,” Brandon promised.

  John stood up and reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

  “I’m going out side to have a smoke before they bring our burgers,” John explained.

  “Those things will kill you,” Susan teased. John returned with a shrug and made his way outside.

  “Sorry to see John’s still smoking,” Susan told Debbie after he went outside. She then looked to Brandon and asked, “Do you smoke?”

  “Me? No. Never did.”

  “Maybe you can get him to quit?” Debbie suggested with a grin.

  “Why would he quit for me?” Susan frowned.

  “He’s always liked you.”

  Brandon sipped his beer and silently listened to the exchange.

  “Don’t play matchmaker, Deb. I’ve always liked your brother, but not in that way. And I already told you, it’s way too soon for me to even think about dating again.” Susan glanced at Brandon and blushed, suddenly embarrassed.

  “Please don’t repeat what I said,” Susan asked Brandon.

  “You don’t want John to know you aren’t interested?” he asked.

  “No… I mean… Hell, I doubt John is interested, but that’s not the point. Deb here loves to play matchmaker, and I imagine he’d be embarrassed and annoyed if he knew his little sister was trying to hook us up.”

  “I doubt that,” Brandon murmured before downing the rest of his beer.

  Chapter Four

  Susan stood at her living room window looking outside, cursing the rain. What did she expect? It was November. Not ideal weather for moving, but escrow would be closing in a couple of days, and she had to be out by then. She wondered if Brandon and John would even show up.

  By the time she finished her second cup of coffee, her question was answered. She watched as John’s Jeep pulled up in front of her house followed by Brandon’s red pickup truck.

  “Sorry about the weather,” Susan apologized when she answered the door a few minutes later.

  “It is a bitch, but not much you can do about it,” John said as he walked into the house.

  “I grabbed some tarps,” Brandon said as he followed John inside. “I’ll try to keep your boxes dry as much as possible.

  Susan had already stacked her boxes neatly in the living room. But it was the furniture John and Brandon decided to move first. They ended up making numerous trips back and forth between the house and apartment, taking all three of their vehicles, filling each one completely.

  • • • •

  “I really need to get out of here,” John said, glancing at his watch as he stood in Susan’s front entry several hours later.

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot you have a job this afternoon. I didn’t realize it would take this long,” Susan apologized.

  “I was happy to help, honestly. I just wish I didn’t have to take off on you.”

  “It’s only one more load; I can handle it,” Brandon offered.

  “Thanks, Brandon, I owe you,” John said.

  “Hey, let me get you that beer I promised.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll get it later. I don’t really want to show up on the job with beer,” John said with a laugh.

  Susan walked John to the front door. They stood in the open doorway and looked outside. The sun appeared to have pushed the gray clouds aside. It was no longer raining.

  “Have you tried that new Japanese restaurant that opened up by your new apartment?” John asked.

  “No. To be honest, I didn’t notice it.”

  “I was thinking, why don’t we try it out next Friday night?” John asked.

  “Friday…” Susan stammered, her mind scrambling for a graceful way to decline his invitation, especially since he’d just helped her move. Brandon was busy hauling boxes from the house to the truck and had just picked up one of the last boxes from the adjoining room when John extended his invitation. She was fairly certain Brandon overheard. Susan wished she and John could discuss this in private, as she had no desire to embarrass John—or herself.

  “Gee, thanks John, that’s really sweet of you,” Susan began. “But I’m afraid I have a million things to do this week, what with moving an all. Plus, next week is Thanksgiving, and I already promised my mother I’d help her. We have a bunch of family coming in for the holiday.”

  “No problem, I understand. How about I give you a call after Thanksgiving?”

  “Sure. Don’t forget I need to get you that beer.”

  John leaned toward Susan and whispered, “I don’t really care about the beer. There’s something else that interests me.” Before she could respond, he brushed a kiss across her cheek and then turned and made a hasty exit. Stunned, Susan stood at the doorway and watched John as he got into his car and drove away.

  “That was awkward,” Brandon said. He stood behind Susan in the entry, holding a box. She turned abruptly and faced him.

  “You heard?” she asked.

  “Yep, sure did.” He set the box back down on the floor. “You aren’t interested, are you?”

  “No, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I guess it was wrong of me to let him help me today.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I sorta knew he was interested in me.”

  “Hey, he offered to help. It’s not like you were flirting with him.”

  “I sure hope I didn’t come across like that,” Susan said. “Are you two very good friends?”

  “John and me?” Brandon laughed. “To be honest, I barely know him. We just happened to work on the same job last week. On Friday, he was trying to get someone to go to the bar so he could see you.”

  “What do you mean see me?”

  “He already knew you were going to be there, but he didn’t want to show up alone. I guess his sister called him. He tried to get one of his friends to go, but they were all already doing something. When he asked me, I figured sure, why not? I was curious to see who this girl was he was so anxious to see again.”

  “Damn…”

  “Hey, he’ll get over it. And who knows? When you’ve moved past your divorce, maybe you’ll be interested in him. He seems like a nice guy.”

  “No… I mean he is nice. I’ve known him forever, and his sister is a good friend. But, no, John really is not my type. Plus, he smokes.”

  “Yeah, smoking is a deal killer for me, too.”

  “Are you hungry?” Susan ask
ed.

  “Hungry?”

  “Yeah. We’ve been working all morning, and I don’t know about you, but all I had for breakfast was cereal. I haven’t cleaned out the fridge yet, and I’ve got lunchmeat in there, and some salad. Would you like a sandwich?”

  “Sure, if you’re going to have one. I’m kind of hungry, too.”

  Twenty minutes later, Brandon and Susan sat on the kitchen floor together, each eating a ham sandwich.

  “Thanks for all your help today, I appreciate it.” Susan took a bite of her sandwich as she leaned against a cabinet.

  “No problem. Although, you took a risk letting me help you.”

  “Umm, how so?” Susan looked nervously at Brandon. According to Brandon’s own admission, John barely knew him. As far as she knew, Brandon could be some serial rapist, and here she was, alone with him in her kitchen. What had her friends just told her? You are too trusting.

  “Well, one summer,” Brandon began, not noticing Susan’s uneasy expression, “one of my friends picked up this cute girl at a bar. That was a Friday night. They spent the night together—at her place. On Saturday morning, she told him she and her roommate were moving to another place in the next town. Of course he volunteered to help, and since I had a truck, he volunteered me. The roommate was pretty hot, so I figured, why not? Well, we loaded her dining table in the back of my truck—and she tells us it belonged to her grandma so be careful. Of course, we didn’t think it was necessary to tie the thing down.”

  “Oh no…” Susan’s eyes widened.

  “You should have seen that thing fly out of my truck on the freeway. Damn lucky it didn’t hit someone. Broke into a million pieces; scattered like a giant box of toothpicks.”

  “What did she say?”

  “I imagine it wasn’t G-rated. They were behind us when it happened, so they saw it fly off. My friend was with me in the truck, so we turned off the freeway and got the hell out of there. My friend never saw the girl again.”

  “That is awful!” Susan laughed. “I’m surprised they didn’t track you two down!”

  “I know my friend and I never went back to the bar where he met her. Can’t say I blame them for being pissed at us. It was a pretty lame thing. But we were young and dumb.”

  “After that experience, I’m surprised you even volunteered to help me.”

  “Well, I not only brought tarps today, I brought rope in case you had a dining room table to move. I learned my lesson.”

  “I do appreciate your help.”

  “This is a great house, by the way. Are you sad to let it go?” Brandon glanced around the room.

  “In a way. It was a mess when we bought it.”

  “You refurbished it?”

  “Pretty much.” Susan glanced down at the faux wood floor and recalled the old linoleum tile they’d painstakingly removed one weekend.

  “Who did the work?”

  “My ex and I did most of it. This floor we’re sitting on—I helped put it down.”

  “Nice,” Brandon glanced down, casually inspecting the workmanship.

  “What exactly do you do in construction?”

  “I’m a framer. Although, I’d love to be in the position to buy houses to remodel and flip.”

  “When we were fixing up this house, I thought about that, too. My ex is a Realtor, so I figured it would be a natural fit.”

  “What did he think?”

  “Oh, Sam wasn’t interested. Refurbishing this house might have been a labor of love for me, but for Sam… He just wanted to get it done. In the middle of the remodel, he told me he would never again buy a fixer-upper. Claimed it was too much work.”

  “I suppose it is. But it’s the kind of work I enjoy.”

  “Me, too.” Susan glanced around the kitchen and gave a little sigh. “I love this house, but even if I could keep it, I don’t think I would.”

  “Too many memories?”

  “Too many fake memories.”

  Brandon frowned.

  “My marriage—my ex—weren’t really what I thought they were. He wasn’t who I thought he was. Someday, I can get another house.”

  “And another husband?”

  “I don’t know. I’m really not in a rush to jump back into the dating game. I was serious when I told Debbie I wanted to get used to being alone first.”

  “That’s probably a good idea. And if John’s serious about you, then I imagine he’d appreciate you giving it some time.”

  “I don’t know what you mean?”

  “If you’re serious about someone, the last thing you’d want is to be the rebound lover.”

  “Rebound lover?”

  “Yeah. The first one someone goes to after a breakup. They never work out—at least not in the long term.”

  “You’d never want to be a rebound lover?” Susan asked.

  “Considering where I am in life, a rebound lover would probably be the best option.”

  “Ah, you’re just looking for fun without commitment.”

  Brandon smiled sheepishly and gave a little shrug. “Hey, I’m a dog, what can I say?”

  “That’s right, you did mention you wanted to go to that bar—what was it called—After Sundown?”

  “Hey,” Brandon said with a laugh. “I said I was just joking.”

  “Ah, but were you really?” Susan asked with a grin. “Fess up, you’ve been there before.”

  Brandon didn’t answer immediately, but then he looked up with a grin. “Yeah, I go sometimes—but just to play pool.”

  “Yeah, sure—the pool.” Susan laughed. “Tell me the truth. Does John go there, too?”

  “Thought you weren’t interested in John.”

  “I’m not. I am just nosey.”

  “I honestly don’t know if he goes there or not. But if you’re interested in him, I’ll be happy to help out my good buddy John.”

  “John? Help him how? I thought you really didn’t know him that well?”

  “I’ll volunteer to be your rebound lover. That way, when you’re ready to date John, all that rebound stuff will be out of your system.”

  “Wow, that is really sweet of you,” Susan chuckled. “You were serious when you said you were a dog, weren’t you?”

  “Pretty much.” Brandon gave her a wink.

  “Well, thanks for the generous offer, but I’m not really interested in John.”

  “I’d still be willing to volunteer,” Brandon quipped.

  Instead of laughing, Susan eyed Brandon curiously. “Umm… I’ve been out of the… game for a while. Is that… Are you hitting on me?”

  “Not so much hitting,” Brandon said seriously. “But letting you know I’d be interested if you ever… Well, I find you very attractive. I know you aren’t in the place to start a serious relationship, and frankly, neither am I. But, well…. Just letting you know.”

  Brandon stood up quickly and tossed his napkin into the trashcan. “We should probably get the rest of your stuff moved before it starts raining again.”

  Susan stood up and gave him a nod, feeling suddenly awkward. Brandon must have sensed her unease because he then said, “Hey, Susan, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. Forget I said anything. It’s all cool. But I just thought I’d let you know I was interested if you ever were.”

  Chapter Five

  Several days before Thanksgiving, Susan dropped a case of beer off at Debbie’s apartment and asked her to give it to John when she saw him on Thursday. She needed to pay her moving debt, yet she didn’t want to drop the beer off at John’s house and give him the wrong impression.

  As promised, John called Susan after Thanksgiving in spite of the fact Susan had made it clear to Debbie that she wasn’t interested in dating her brother. John called the next week and then the next. But after the third call, he decided she must be serious, so he didn’t call the following week.

  What Susan didn’t tell her friend—or anyone—was that she was disappointed she hadn’t run into Brandon again. She couldn�
�t help but think about what he had said—what he had offered—not that she was actually considering such a relationship. He was clearly offering to be her—what was it they called it—fuck buddy. A less crude term was friends with benefits, but she didn’t think he was offering his friendship.

  Not once did he stop by her apartment or make some excuse to see her. One day, when thinking of Brandon, Susan realized she didn’t even know his last name. If she wanted to contact him, there was no way to do so—even if she called John. According to Brandon, the two men barely knew each other. What she did find herself doing was checking out red pickup trucks. If she passed one on the road, her blood pressure spiked.

  When Christmas break arrived, she stopped thinking of the hunky framer, and her mind drifted to other thoughts. Last year during this time, she and Sam had driven to a Christmas tree farm and picked out their tree together. She’d gotten rid of most of her Christmas ornaments—she’d collected them with Sam and couldn’t bear the thought of hanging them on another Christmas tree.

  She was alone in her kitchen fixing a pot of tea when the doorbell rang. Turning off the stove, she went to answer the door. Peering out the peephole, she was surprised to see who was standing on her front porch.

  “Sam? What are you doing here?” Susan asked the moment she opened the door.

  “I just wanted to talk. Can I come in?” Dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, it didn’t look as if he’d come from his office.

  “I suppose,” Susan said hesitantly, opening the door wider. “How did you know where I lived?”

  “Our Realtor.”

  “Gee, I thought they had to keep those things confidential,” she muttered before closing the door behind them and leading Sam into her living room. She sat down, curious as to what he had to say. Not waiting to be asked, Sam sat down on a chair across from Susan.

  “I’ve left Loretta,” he blurted out.

  “Oh, really?” Susan wondered why he was telling her.

  “I really screwed up, Susan.”

  “Yes, you did. So?”

  “I want to come back.”

  “Excuse me?” She sat up straighter in the chair.

  “I said I want to come back. I’m sorry I hurt you, but I want us to work it out.”