Her Kind of Hero

by Kathleen Dienne

  That night he didn’t even try to put me in the guest bedroom. We lay in the dark, talking about our families and our jobs. Most people are more comfortable and open in the dark, and Derek was no exception.

  There was one thing Derek was carefully not discussing, so I threw it out there. “I dated a little before I met you and Luke. Mostly for fun, nothing really serious. Counting Luke I’ve only had three serious boyfriends. I haven’t been on a date since Luke died.”

  “Luke was different.” The way he said it was a statement, not a question.

  “We were friends first, so it wasn’t exactly love at first sight. Maybe love at second sight? But as soon as there was a spark, he really did sweep me off my feet, like a storybook prince. I know it’s taken me a long time to stop talking about him every few minutes, but…it was hard, losing him.”

  “I miss him, too,” he said.

  “Really?”

  I felt him chuckle. “Van, Luke and I were friends for years before you came along. We grew up together. That was why we went to the same college. He was like a brother to me.”

  “Oh. Right. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Being around you helps, if you really want to know the truth.”

  “How so?”

  “You’re a lot like him. Impetuous, excitable, always off on some new adventure or another. He kept life interesting for everyone around him. He kept me from living life in a rut, and I kept him out of jail.”

  “Do you mean that literally?” I asked.

  “Yes.” He was off on a story I’d never heard, a high school prank gone out of control. The way he told it brought Luke back to life, and for a moment I saw them both as teenage boys. One had thin blond hair and a fiery sparkle, the other with thick light brown hair and as solid as an anchor. At long last I saw a glimpse of why Luke had called this gentle man his best friend for thirty years. I wish I knew how I had not seen it earlier.

  “I wish I’d seen it,” I said.

  “I’m sure that assistant principal is just as glad there weren’t more witnesses to him trying to catch a greased pig,” said Derek with a laugh.

  “No one suspected Luke?”

  “Everyone suspected Luke. But no one ever suspected me, which is why all the evidence was in my car.”

  I flipped over to look at Derek. “You guys stole a pig and hauled it in your car.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t believe it. Not for one second.”

  “Thought you had me pegged as a goody-goody?” he teased.

  I had thought so, yes. For years I’d spent most of my time with him, and I couldn’t believe how much I’d missed seeing.

  “I’m not hearing much about girls here,” I said playfully.

  I couldn’t see his face very well by the starlight, but I could see that he was uncomfortable. I turned back over and cuddled against his body. Some of the tension left him, and he draped his strong arm around me.

  “Girls loved Luke. He trailed them like a comet,” he said.

  “I’m more curious about the swath you cut through the ladies, Romeo.”

  He shifted his weight, but he kept his arm around me. “I didn’t date in high school.”

  I hastened to sound reassuring. “Well, all-male high school and all, it’s not surprising.”

  “Don’t forget the Catholic. All-male Catholic high school.”

  “I do usually forget that part. Luke wasn’t very Catholic.”

  “Neither am I, anymore, but I was back then.”

  “I’m glad you’ve lapsed, otherwise we wouldn’t be together right now.” I reached back and patted his ass just to hear him laugh. “What about college?”

  “I had a few girlfriends in college, but as you say, nothing serious.”

  “Well, I’d sure like to call Miss Nothing Serious and thank her, because you are the absolute king of heavy petting.”

  “Is that what they call it?”

  He said it lightly, but I was serious. “Well, if you’d gone to my high school, we’d have called you the king of everything but. As a compliment, of course.”

  Derek didn’t say anything. I kept talking. “Der, have I given you the impression that I might reject your advances?”

  “What? No.”

  “Well, then, am I turning you off by being so aggressive?”

  “God, no.”

  He sounded so fervent that I laughed. “All right, then, so what’s the problem?”

  He didn’t answer right away, but this time I wasn’t going to fill the silence. I felt him roll over to face the ceiling. Finally, he spoke. “You’re pretty experienced, I guess.”

  “Mostly with Luke, actually. Is that what’s weirding you out? That I was with Luke?”

  “No. I used to feel bad about wanting to be with you, because you were Luke’s girl, but that’s not what you mean if I’m reading you correctly.”

  “You are.”

  “I’m trying to say I’m not as experienced. You can take the boy out of Catholicism, but…”

  “It’s hard to take the Catholic out of the man,” I finished. “I get that.”

  “We really should try and get some sleep, Van.”

  He was right, and I stopped trying to talk. But I had a feeling there was more to it than latent religion.

  Chapter Five

  The next day was Monday. Derek took me to work, and afterward picked me up early so we could check in with the police. After we learned that they’d seen no one and nothing during their weekend surveillance, he took me home. He made a point of inspecting my whole house, but there were no packages, letters or any sign that my anonymous enemy existed at all.

  On the way past the kitchen counter, I flipped open my laptop. The hard drive started moaning and groaning, and Derek frowned. “What are you running that’s making your machine work so hard?”

  “Just email. The computer’s been acting up for a while.”

  He sat on the tall counter stool in front of the laptop. “Mind if I take a look?”

  “Be my guest.” I knew he worked with computers all day, helping out grad students, and I also knew how pitiful the university tech support was. In typical Derek fashion, he’d taught himself to do his own troubleshooting.

  He tapped a few keys and frowned again. “Have you had anyone else working on this besides me? Or installed anything?”

  “Are you kidding? After all the blood, sweat and tears we put into getting the wireless network set up? No one touches that thing but you.”

  He smiled without taking his eyes off the screen. His fingers danced over the keyboard, and then his expression turned to one of horror. “Vanessa, what possessed you to disable the antivirus program’s scanning tool?”

  “Oh. Um. I just turned it off temporarily. The system scan kept coming on while I was in the middle of something and it would bog down the whole computer. I figured I’d just run it later.”

  “Later?”

  “It hasn’t been that long,” I said, riffing through my mail.

  “Eighteen months?”

  “Oops.”

  “Oops, she says,” he mumbled. He pressed a button. “At least you’ve been letting it download new virus definitions. From now on, let it scan.”

  “Yes, master.”

  He raised an eyebrow at my flirtatious tone, but before he could reply, my laptop chimed to let me know I had mail. I came over to look. “Ugh, nothing but spam again.”

  “I’ve seen the Viagra and Nigerian banker letters, but I’ve never gotten song lyric spam,” he said. He pointed at the one visible in my email program’s preview window.

  “I’ve been getting them for ages now.” I reached for the delete key.

  Derek caught my hand. “Wait. It says it’s got an attachment. Have you ever opened one of these?”

  “Of course not,” I said. “I just trash them.”

  He scrolled through a menu on my program. “Your trash folder empties automatically once a week.”

  “Yeah? So?”


  “I don’t know. But will you do me a favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Don’t use your computer tonight. The scan’s going to take a while anyway, so just let it run. I’ll come over tomorrow and see what turns up.”

  “Derek, you’re making me nervous.”

  He put his arm around me. “I don’t mean to. It’s probably nothing, but in the interest of caution, let the antivirus program run, okay? Heaven only knows how much crap your machine has on it after eighteen months of not scanning.”

  I nudged his shoulder, just hard enough to spin him around to face me if he let me. He let me. “Okay. What’s my prize for doing what you tell me to do?”

  “You and prizes.”

  “Damn straight.” I stepped in between his knees and leaned in for a kiss.

  He tried to keep it calm, but I wasn’t having any of that. I snuggled up to him and moaned softly when his tongue met mine. His arms went around my waist and held me close.

  I loved the feel of his shoulder muscles, the way they flexed when he moved his hands in the small of my back. I rubbed my hands over his broad back until my fingers met in the middle along his spine. I traced the vertebrae as far down as I could reach. When he shivered, I walked my fingers back up to his neck. He made a low sound, one that rumbled deep in his broad chest.

  Derek pulled his face away from mine without letting me go. “You are amazing. I hope you know that.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you better tell me again.”

  “Flirt.”

  “Oh, you finally noticed.”

  “Hush, you.” He buried his nose in my hair. “Mmm. I hate to leave you. Horses need to eat.”

  I kissed his neck. “So do I.”

  “I meant food.”

  “So did I.”

  He laughed and let me go. “You’re always hungry.”

  “I haven’t eaten in a while, sue me.”

  “Are we still talking about food?”

  “Wanna find out?”

  “Horses, woman, I need to go feed the horses.”

  I kissed him goodbye. I went outside to the porch and waved at him as he drove down my street and away from the town. I missed him already.

  It was for the best that I was going to have the evening to myself. I needed to think. I thought I’d had an idea of what I was getting into with Derek, but there was so much about him that I hadn’t known. Even some of the stuff I’d known had been wrong.

  Worst of all, I thought I’d known my own heart, but a lot of what I felt now was confusion.

  I was grateful to him for all the handyman services. I appreciated his warm, steady friendship. I definitely liked seeing his body respond to my touch.

  It was nice, to touch and be touched again. The last two years had felt like moving through thick gray fog, day after day.

  I had a houseplant in my guest bedroom, and I almost never remembered to water it. Out of sight, out of mind. When I did finally remember the poor thing, the soil would be so dry that it couldn’t absorb water poured in too quickly. I had to let a little sink in at a time, or water wouldn’t go much past the surface. Water would pour out the drainage holes, the saucer would overflow, and the plant would still be wilted.

  After Luke died, I’d tried to keep busy, tried to go out and have fun with girlfriends or Derek or even Anthony. But happiness hadn’t sunk in more than an inch past the surface.

  There was a scrapbook on the shelf in my living room. Making scrapbooks used to be my favorite hobby. I loved to choose materials, design layouts and enhance photos with storytelling and art. I had a gift for it, Luke used to say. I liked to make ephemeral things into tangible objects that I could hold, objects that would endure forever.

  Anyway, I hadn’t looked at this one in months, because it only reminded me of everything I’d lost. I was in the mood to cry, though, so I got it down.

  To my shock, the tears didn’t come. Every page brought a smile to my face. Some of the memories were so powerful that I could smell the carnival, or taste the apples we’d picked, or hear the music. Luke had been my first real love, and I loved him still. But my grief was fading, and the memory of our passion was no longer so immediate. What remained was a gentle warmth that no longer had the power to burn.

  It was strange, though. Derek was on nearly every page in some way. The pictures he wasn’t in, I remembered him being the one to take them.

  There was one photo near the end that Derek must have taken. The three of us had gone to see the Phantom of the Opera revival when the touring company made it to Roanoke. Luke had looked gorgeous in his one black suit. He used to joke that he needed to wear shoulder holsters with it in order to make people think of Reservoir Dogs. In the photo he was standing next to the lobby poster, his arm tight around my waist. I was wearing a long dress made of black fabric shot through with shimmering gold threads. The bodice was tight around my torso, but loose and full in the skirt.

  About ten minutes after that picture was taken, Luke had me in the back of the coat check. We hadn’t meant to do that. We’d been looking for our coats so we could go out for a cigarette break, and the attendant was nowhere to be found. We’d never found our coats, and we’d never made it outside before the intermission ended.

  I looked around. My curtains were closed, and I was alone with the memory.

  In my mind I was wearing the dress. Luke was just in front of me, his long blond hair neatly braided for the formal occasion. We pushed our way past endless racks of winter coats and scarves. The space was long and narrow and dimly lit. It seemed like every coat was black and long, and half of them were leather.

  Luke and I had ducked under the counter. Derek went back to hold our seats and tried not to show his disapproval at our antics. He’d never been a smoker, never known the pleasure it could bring.

  Luke never did get around to quitting smoking. I quit a month after he died. The smell reminded me of him, and I couldn’t stand to have it on my clothes or in my hair.

  I shook my head. I wasn’t going to think about that today. I took off my shirt and leaned back.

  The coat check had been warm and cozy, and all the winter gear muffled every sound. By the time we got to the back, we couldn’t hear the sounds of the lobby.

  My dress had been low cut and form fitting in the front. I touched my breasts, remembering the feel of the silky cloth. I ran my fingers down the sides and then cupped them gently, taking their weight into my palms. The dress had come with built-in cups that didn’t offer much support. But the cups did shield my tender nipples from chafing when I was excited.

  The scents of wool, leather and fur mingled into a glorious, luxurious perfume. I was in a dark, semi-private place with a handsome man who wanted me.

  I licked my lips, thinking of the kiss. It’d taken me by surprise back then. Having reached the end of the closet, I’d turned to go back, when out of nowhere I was up against the wall. “God, Vanessa. I’ve been trying not to stare at your tits for the last two hours,” he’d muttered when he came up for air.

  I put my hand where his had been. I squeezed gently. I slid my thumb down over my nipple and gave it a little pinch.

  The sensation traveled like an electric current from my nipple into my groin, and I gasped. I closed my eyes. I slid my hands over my breasts and down my ribcage. My thighs were spread apart, and I massaged them, wishing that my hands were bigger.

  His hands had been strong and seemed to be everywhere. The kiss had been urgent, his lips hot and hungry. I’d felt wanted, and I’d wanted him.

  “Der…Luke,” I whispered into my empty living room.

  In the coat check, I’d put my arms around him and shoved my hands into the pockets of his trousers. I’d wanted him even closer than he was, pressing against the length of my body.

  In the chair by my bookcase, I pressed the flat of my hand against my pussy, while my other hand teased my nipples.

  I could imagine lips on my neck and my chest. When my
dream lover pulled my breast free of the dress, I licked two fingers and touched my soft areola. Instantly it puckered, the tension echoed in the pit of my stomach.

  When I pictured a head bent over my breasts, sucking on them, the image flickered between Derek’s thick brown waves and Luke’s thin blond braid. I tried to focus on the blond hair, but it was hard. Derek had been there so recently. His tongue had been masterful.