by Amber Garza
“How is it going in there?” Polly trilled, a little too cheerily.
“Great,” I lied. Sighing, I picked up the first top. It wasn’t my style at all with its v-neck and pastel colors. Dropping it, I weeded through the rest of them. There were a few that I could live with. A plain black one, a scoop neck navy blue one, and one with green and brown stripes. Most of the pants were khakis or dress slacks, but she had thrown in two pairs of jeans and one pair of yoga pants. There was also a pair of soft, flannel pajamas. I felt cozy just by looking at them. After trying on the items I liked, I was surprised when everything fit. Polly had a good eye. Then again, I was so thin from all my drug use it was probably pretty obvious that I wore a size four. As I wrestled out of the clothes, I heard Polly and Kyler talking. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it was clear to me that she was flirting. I had lived with the guy for a week and he was no stand-up comedian. I mean, sure he had a sense of humor, and sometimes he made me laugh. But this chick was cracking up every time he opened his mouth. If he was truly that funny, the guy could be a regular on Saturday Night Live. Forget writing novels, he could write sketch comedies.
As I put back on my clothes, I wondered why it bothered me so much that Polly was flirting with Kyler. It’s not like I was his girlfriend. He could date Miss Giggles if he wanted. Sure, he’d have to wear ear plugs on their date, but it was fine with me.
Snatching up the clothes I did want, I opened the curtain. Polly craned her neck, spotting me. “Ooh, did you find some things you liked?”
Seriously, how transparent could she be? No one was this goddamn cheery. Pressing my lips together, I nodded. Polly glided across the room on her tiptoes in a way that made me wonder if she thought this was a ballet audition. She took the clothes from my hand and headed to the register. Kyler met her there, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. The smile she gave him turned my stomach.
It pissed me off even more when he smiled back, flashing his wallet like he was Daddy Warbucks or something.
“Wait,” I called out as she started ringing up my items. “Kyler, I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t a prostitute. I’ll pay for the clothes myself.”
Kyler’s face reddened. Polly’s eyes grew wide. Oh, shit. Why did I have to be such a bitch sometimes?
“By all means, go ahead.” He swept his hand out, motioning me forward.
Palms moistening, I walked to the register. My legs wobbled as if made of jelly.
“To be perfectly clear, I never thought she was a prostitute. It was a little inside joke,” Kyler said to Polly.
I nodded. “He’s right. It was a joke. I mean, can you imagine someone like me making money by spreading my legs? Guys practically pay me to keep them closed.”
“Jade,” Kyler’s voice was fierce like a clap of thunder. Polly looked stricken.
I never did know when to shut up.
No one dared to make conversation as we finished the transaction. In fact, Polly seemed to be relieved when we headed outside.
“What the hell was that about?”
I had never seen Kyler angry with me before, and it scared me a little. “Why? Were you worried that your girlfriend would think badly of you?”
“Girlfriend?” His brows knit together. “Polly isn’t my girlfriend.” Kyler stopped walking and grabbed my arm. “Is that what this is about?”
“She was clearly flirting with you.”
“And that bothered you? Why?”
I shook his arm off, and turned away, stomping down the sidewalk. “It didn’t. You can date Miss Giggles if you want. It’s fine with me.”
“Miss Giggles?” Kyler caught up to me. “Interesting nickname. I guess she does laugh a lot.”
“She’s like a goddamn Tickle Me Elmo doll.”
Kyler chuckled. “Well, it’s a good thing I never dated her then. I’m not a fan of Elmo. Now, Cookie Monster, he’s a cool guy. Bert’s not bad either if you can stand the nasally voice. Ernie, on the other hand, I never trusted. A grown man who bathes with a rubber ducky is someone you should steer clear of.”
I couldn’t stop myself. A laugh rose up in me and escaped from my mouth. It spilled out all over the sidewalk, reminding me of the time I poured too much champagne into a flute and it bubbled down the sides.
“Look whose turning into Miss Giggles now.” Kyler nudged me in the side.
I sobered up.
“No, don’t stop. I may not like Elmo, but I’m starting to become quite a fan of yours.” We reached his truck and he headed toward the driver’s seat. I had given him the keys when we left the grocery store, so he pulled them out of his pocket and hopped inside.
How did he have the ability to wreck me with one simple sentence?
“I think we gave the townspeople enough to talk about for one day.” Kyler turned on the engine after I’d slid into the passenger seat and pulled my shopping bag into my lap. “What do you say we head home?”
Home. I had never had a place that felt like home before. I still wasn’t sure if Kyler’s place did either, but I hoped that one day it would. I nodded, my fingers playing with the handles on the bag.
“Are you happy with the clothes? I know Miss Giggles’ style is a little different from yours.”
My lips twitched when he called her that. “Why did you take me there then?”
“Because I knew she’d treat you with the respect you deserve.”
I glanced out the window, unable to look in Kyler’s direction. Sometimes I wished he wouldn’t say things like that. It confused me. People weren’t nice to other people for no reason. I wanted to believe Kyler’s intentions were pure, but then he would say something so perfect. Something that a guy in a romance novel would say, and it made me wonder what his game was. Guys in romance novels weren’t real. I always imagined they were made up by some housewife whose husband spent all day watching TV and scratching his privates.
Kyler seemed too good to be true, like he was a fictional character. However, I desperately wanted to believe in him. And that scared me more than I cared to admit.
That night I put on my new flannel pajamas and slipped under the covers in my bed. I felt more comfortable than I’d ever been. Reaching over to the nightstand, I plucked up Kyler’s novel. Setting it in my lap, I opened to the first chapter. The house was quiet, my room dimly lit by the lamp on my nightstand. Kyler had gone to bed early, taking Edgar into his room with him. I’d never been in Kyler’s room, but from the hallway I had seen glimpses of Edgar’s bed set up in the corner.
Lowering my head, I started reading.
She was beautiful. Achingly beautiful. But she didn’t know it. And that made her even more attractive.
In the past an introduction like that would turn me off. The last thing I wanted to do was read an entire novel about a woman who was beautiful and some man who was madly in love with her beauty. It would make me feel that much worse about my hideous appearance. But this book was written by Kyler, and that alone made me want to press on. I was curious about the stories that lived in his head, in the places he didn’t let me see. I’d read before that authors always write about themselves. If that was true, then I wondered if Kyler was the narrator. And if so, who was the woman?
My chest tightened. It’s not like I assumed Kyler had always been single. A guy like him would have women chasing him all the time. But he never spoke of anyone special. And in the week that I’d been here, I’d seen no evidence (other than the soap and shampoo in the bathroom) that a woman had ever set foot in this house since his grandma left.
Abandoning my internal thoughts, I continued reading.
Her eyes never met mine. She didn’t seem to notice me staring, even though I’d been watching her all night long. I had memorized every detail. The way she held her wine glass, the way she fidgeted with her necklace when she was anxious, the way her lips trembled when she smiled.
A shiver ran up my spine. The narrator sounded like a total stalker. I turned the page, anxious t
o read more. By the end of the first chapter I had finally learned the woman’s name – Clara. And the narrator was a man named Robert. I still couldn’t tell if he was harmless or not. There were times when I felt endeared to him, and other times when he frightened me. He was as mysterious as the man who created him. Clara remained a bit of a mystery too. So far she hadn’t revealed much about herself.
The next hour flew by as I immersed myself in the story. I was impressed with Kyler’s writing style, with his ability to pull me into an imaginary world. It was like the book had a heartbeat, like he’d breathed life into the words. I felt like Clara and Robert were as real as Kyler and I, like they were here in this room with me.
EIGHT
Even though I was on my third cup of coffee, I could not stop yawning. The sky outside the kitchen window was covered in dark clouds, making it appear as if it were nighttime instead of early morning. Kyler had cranked the heater since cold seeped into the house as the storm drew near. I found myself wishing I could crawl back in bed and hide under the warm covers all day. But Kyler was busy writing, and Edgar was already getting restless. I’d have to brave the cold to let him run around a bit. I pulled my thin jacket tighter around my body and hugged myself. Another yawn escaped.
“Someone’s sleepy this morning.” Kyler shuffled into the kitchen in his bare feet. He wore a pair of jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt, his hair wavy and unkempt around his face. Reaching for the coffee pot, he poured himself another cup.
“I was up late reading,” I explained.
“Really?” His eyebrows jumped up. “My book?” The look on his face told me he was thrilled with the idea.
“Yep. It’s good.”
“High praise from an avid reader like you.” Sometimes when he spoke to me, I wondered if he was being sarcastic. If Heath or any of my former friends had made a statement like that, it would surely be a joke. But not for Kyler. He was dead serious. He leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee. I think mornings were becoming my favorite time of day. I liked when Kyler and I stood in here with the light streaming in the windows, drinking coffee and chatting. “How far did you get?”
“Chapter Six. I still can’t figure out if I like Robert or not.”
“Why? He’s been nothing but kind to Clara.”
“Exactly. Guys that nice make me suspicious. It’s so obvious he’s into her, but he hasn’t even made a move.”
“Perhaps he’s waiting for a green light from Clara. He probably doesn’t want to jeopardize what they do have by moving too fast.”
“Maybe. I hadn’t thought of it that way.” I pressed my mug to my lips and sipped the hot coffee. The strong scent wafted under my nostrils. Edgar ran into the kitchen, barking at our feet. “But I don’t know if she’ll ever give him the green light. It’s obvious that she doesn’t trust him, and it makes me wonder why.”
Bending over, Kyler petted Edgar. “Did you ever think that her mistrust of him has more to do with her own issues than with him?”
Suddenly I didn’t feel like we were talking about the book anymore. My stomach knotted, my hands gripping tighter to the mug. “Possibly,” I finally forced the words from my throat.
“Keep reading. You might be surprised by what you find out.” Tipping his head, he ambled out of the kitchen.
I held steady to the counter and stared out the window. Before Kyler made that statement, I never thought Clara was anything like me. But maybe she was. It was possible that she had been hurt by someone, and that was skewing her view of Robert. It was also possible that because of what I’d been through I was suspicious of every guy – even fictional ones. Thinking back, it’s true that I usually sided with the heroine over the hero in every book I’d read. I hated to think that I was doing the same thing to Kyler. He had been so good to me since I arrived here. But old habits die hard, and even though I wanted to trust him completely, I wasn’t ready yet. I had to hold on to at least some control, because I was afraid once I relinquished it I’d never get it back.
Edgar barked to get my attention. I glanced down at him. “You wanna go outside?” It was getting less weird for me to converse with a dog. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.
He wagged his tail in response, and I stepped away from the window. After setting my cup down on the counter, I made my way outside, Edgar at my heels. The frigid air practically stole my breath. I rubbed my hands together in an effort to keep warm as Edgar took off running in the grass. Huddling near the house, I watched him. Normally I would join him, maybe even throw a ball to him. But today I was too cold and tired. In the distance I saw a car driving along the road. When I noticed it slowing as it neared us, my pulse quickened. I ducked down, trying to remain inconspicuous, but then it kept going. Once it was out of sight, I exhaled and stood up straight again. I don’t know why I was nervous anyway. The car didn’t look like anything Heath would drive, and there’s no way he would find me here. I had gotten so used to looking over my shoulder, the instinct probably wouldn’t let up for awhile.
Edgar barked and pounced on the ground. He must have spotted a mouse or insect or something. A tiny drop of water fell on my nose. Squinting, I looked up toward the sky as several more drops splattered my face. Moving under the awning of the house, I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Edgar! Come here!”
He didn’t acknowledge me at all. I tried calling him again, but he continued to ignore me. He was all the way over by the barn. The rain was coming down harder now. I shivered, my teeth chattering. Groaning, I stepped out from under the awning and ran in Edgar’s direction. Water pelted my head, ran down my face and splattered my clothes. By the time I reached Edgar, the grass was soaked and my shoes sank down into it. Mud caked the soles. I shielded my face with my hands, but it was no use. The water was definitely winning this battle. I was soaked to the core.
I grabbed Edgar by the collar and gently dragged him forward. When we finally made it inside, I was greeted by warmth and dry air. I slammed the door shut, allowing the heat to seep into my waterlogged skin. The pitter patter of the rain hitting the windows filled my ears as Edgar nestled onto the ground, wiping his wet fur all over the floor.
Kyler looked up in my direction. “You’re soaked.”
I fingered a strand of my wet hair. “Wow, you sure are Mr. Observant today.”
He smirked. “I was so into this scene I hadn’t noticed it was raining.”
“I don’t know how you do that.”
“Do what?” He stood from his chair and walked toward me. As he passed the couch, he plucked the quilt off of it, holding it between his thick fingers.
“Block everything out and just write. I wish I could do that.”
“I bet you could, if you gave it a try.” Kyler draped the blanket over my shoulders, wrapping it around me. “That better?”
I nodded. Once again he’d rendered me speechless. No one had ever treated me with this much care. I didn’t know if I should welcome it or make him stop. At this point I figured I would be ruined either way. When his gaze locked with mine, I shivered. Not from the cold, but from the way it made me feel when he looked at me like that. Like I wanted to be closer to him. Like I wanted to open up and let him in.
But I knew better.
So, I forced the thoughts away and took a step back. “I need to take off these wet clothes.”
“Jade, are you talking dirty to me?”
I was taken aback by his words until I saw that familiar half smile he always had when he was teasing. “Save the jokes for Miss Giggles,” I said, as I maneuvered around him.
“Nah, her laugh is annoying. Yours is the one I want to hear.”
His words hit their mark, slicing through me and piercing my heart. Not daring to turn around, I raced as fast as I could into my room. Once inside, I closed and locked the door. But his words found me even in the quiet of my room.
Yours is the one I want to hear.
My head had always been filled with the words people said to me.
Words that I wished I could block out, words I would have given anything to unhear. But now Kyler’s voice seemed to be the strongest, fighting off the phrases that had lived in the recesses of my mind for years.
I don’t think you’re damaged or ugly.
I’m becoming quite a fan of yours.
A flicker of a smile played on my lips as I clung to his words, praying that he was real. Praying that this wasn’t all fictional. Praying that it wouldn’t fade away as quickly as it had appeared.
After changing into my yoga pants and black shirt, I dried my hair and then joined Kyler and Edgar in the family room. Kyler was back at it on the computer, while Edgar slept on a blanket near the couch. The scent of wet dog hair permeated the room. Wind whistled outside and rain tapped on the glass like long fingernails.
“I guess I don’t need to water the plants today,” I joked, staring out at the rain that poured from the clouds and filled the sky.
“Probably not for a couple of days,” Kyler agreed, his eyes never leaving the computer, his fingers continuing to type. “Looks like Edgar is out. Why don’t you take a load off? Maybe read a book. I hear you’re reading a pretty incredible one.”
I shook my head in mock exasperation. “Glad to know you’re humble.”
“Humility is overrated.” He turned away from the computer, throwing me a quick wink. When he resumed typing, a loud ringing sound startled me. I jumped up, letting out a sharp squeal. After a moment, I realized that it was the phone. God, I was skittish.
