He looked at Lori expectantly, and she wanted to say something. She just didn’t know how.
“Maybe I was wrong, but we did have a connection, right?” He looked so earnest, sitting there looking at her, that Lori melted.
“We did, yes,” she finally said.
“Do you think we could possibly start over?”
“I’ve kind of wanted to text you about a hundred times,” Lori said finally. Jake reached out his hand, placing it over Lori’s clasped hands.
“Do you want to go out, maybe get a drink or something?”
“I don’t really want to go out tonight,” she said. Jake looked crestfallen. “But I’ve got half a bottle of Cabernet in the kitchen if you want a drink.”
“I’m not much of a wine guy, but sure. I’ll give it a try.” He followed her into her kitchen.
“You drink awful, cheap American beer, don’t you?” she teased. “I don’t have any of that.” She paused, “Oh, I didn’t even think about beer. I’ve set the date for my housewarming party,” she said. “I was just making a list of what I needed to get. Beer didn’t even occur to me.”
“I’ll bring the beer, if I’m invited,” he said.
“You’re invited. Try to bring whatever beer people were drinking in the ’70s. It’s a theme party. You should try to come dressed for the ’70s, if you can.” She pulled out a couple of the old wine glasses and divided the last of the bottle between them. “Cheers,” she said, handing him one of the glasses.
“No idea what they were drinking back then, but I’ll figure out something.” He took a small sip, made a bit of a face, but then took another.
“Everything is going to be ’70s themed,” she said. “I broke my no-shopping rule and bought a new outfit, but I got the whole thing at a thrift store for about seven bucks, so I don’t think it counts.”
“I look forward to seeing you in it,” he said. Then they just stood there, looking at each other, holding their wine glasses awkwardly. “I kissed you in my mom’s kitchen. I must find kitchens really romantic, because here we are and I want to kiss you again.”
Lori put her wine glass on the counter and he did the same. He very tentatively, very gently placed his arms around her and kissed her. The kiss was passionate, but his body language was nervous. Lori thought she knew what was going through his mind — he’d already assumed she was slutty once. He didn’t want to make it appear he thought so now. For her part, Lori didn’t want to lose her head and take him upstairs to the disco bedroom. It wouldn’t hurt to make a point of holding off until they’d seen each other longer. But she returned the kiss just as passionately, resisting the urge to cup his tight little butt. He was nearly as gentlemanly as a teenager at a ’50s prom standing near the chaperone, other than the kiss.
Lori was reminded of her early teen-aged years, when kissing was as far as she would go. When kissing was all that was on the menu, you made the most of it. They alternated between a series of small, sweet kisses and long, deeper kisses in which their tongues danced together. His hands explored her back, stopping far short of side-boob or butt territory. She worked her fingers into his hair, feeling the softness of it. His breathing had quickened and so had hers. Usually, at this point, she might be leading him to bed, or allowing herself to be led there. Not tonight. She hadn’t felt this exhilarated by a kiss since she was about 17 years old, but she was going to hold herself back from making it more.
Finally, she broke it, and laid her head on his chest. His arms tightened around her, and she briefly felt the evidence of his excitement. But he didn’t press it against her. In fact, he moved back a little bit, and then he kissed the top of her head.
“Well, I probably should go. But I’ll call you. Maybe we can have dinner one night this week. And I’ll definitely be at the party,” he said.
“OK,” Lori said. She took a deep breath. “Jake, I’m glad you came back. I know it wasn’t easy. Thank you.”
“Oh, like I had any choice?” he joked. “My mom would have killed me if I hadn’t. I feared the wrath of Caroline and Harriet, too.”
Lori laughed. “I like your mom. I don’t suppose your parents would like to come to the party?”
“Well, they’ll have my brother all weekend, so no. But invite them on a weeknight sometime and I’m sure they’ll come. Maybe don’t show my mom your bedroom, unless you’ve remodeled it to be less Hefneresque.”
“I haven’t changed much in there. Except the mattress and bedding. Believe me, I took care of that before I even moved in.”
“Good call. And … maybe I’ll see it sometime.”
“Maybe. I’ll be showing people around during the party,” she said, deliberately not picking up on his hint. If it had been a hint.
They shared another long, breathless kiss at the door, and then he was gone. Lori leaned back against the door. Damn! She hadn’t seen that coming. Her whole body was practically vibrating. She returned to the kitchen and picked up both glasses of wine. They’d barely touched them. She carried them upstairs and placed one by the bed and the other on a pretty little table she’d found in the basement that now sat next to the bathtub and held an assortment of bath oils and soaps. She chose some lavender bubble bath and sank into the warm, fragrant bath. Mmmm. She lifted her glass and drank it rather more quickly than a wine aficionado would have recommended. How long had it been since she’d made out like that without it leading to any sex? She couldn’t even remember, but probably her teen years. She felt sexually frustrated but she resolved to keep this up for a while longer. Partly because she wanted to emphasize to him she wasn’t as easy as Dr. Grab-Ass had claimed. But just maybe she had another motivation — let him feel a little sexual frustration, since it was largely his fault. If he’d behaved properly during her house closing, she undoubtedly would have rocked his world that night. It wouldn’t hurt him to go around with blue balls for a couple of weeks. And, she reflected, their first time would be all the hotter from the pent-up desire.
It wasn’t that Lori believed all the rules she’d been given as a teenager about making boys wait so they’d respect you. And yet, in this case, she thought it was the right thing to do. She didn’t think that making any past boyfriends wait until she handed over the goodies would have helped any of those relationships last longer, but it suddenly hit her: In the majority of her favorite romance novels, the author would manage to keep the two main characters out of bed for page upon frustrating page, using trick after trick, just so the payoff at the end would be extra hot. She smiled to herself. She could take a page out of her favorite romance novels and delay and delay their first time.
Her phone vibrated. She picked it up from the bath side table. It was Jake: “It was so nice to see you tonight. Sleep well”
She began typing “I love the way you kiss. Can’t wait to see you again”
But then she erased those words. Instead, she merely texted back: “Glad you came by. Good night”
No swoony stuff! This man was going to have to wait a bit for that, she decided.
She slipped into one of her sexy little nightgowns and reflected that maybe sometime soon someone besides herself would see her in it. She checked her reflection in the mirror. Yep, she looked good, even to herself. She turned off the lights and began re-imagining in her mind every part of the kiss. In no time, she slipped into delicious slumber.
Chapter 17
The days before the party went by quickly. Tommy came over and helped with some miscellaneous painting. The lawn was all done until spring. Tommy carried up the boxes of discards and hauled them off to a local church charity or put them into the trash, depending on how Lori had marked the boxes. She asked him how his mother was feeling.
“OK, I guess. She’s still working, but she mostly goes to sleep right after dinner. David has started doing the cooking. Which has meant some weird meals.”
“I’ve never known you to turn up your nose at any food,” Lori said.
“Oh, I eat it,” Tommy
said.
“How about I order some pizza tonight, and we get the hallway painting done?”
“Sure,” Tommy said. “I’ll just text Mom that I won’t be home for dinner. I’m probably not missing much. I mean, don’t tell David, but Mom’s cooking is way better.”
“Your secret’s safe. Pepperoni? Sausage?”
“Yes.”
Lori called Sorrentino’s and placed the order while Tommy arranged plastic over the hallway floor. The paint here was not only dingy, but had plenty of marks that scrubbing wouldn’t dislodge. She wanted it to look nice and bright for the party. She started cutting in at one end of the hallway while Tommy started at the other end. They worked quietly for the most part, until the doorbell rang.
“Can you get it? I left money on the table by the door,” Lori said. “I just loaded up my brush.”
Tommy grunted a reply and laid his brush against the paint can. Lori continued painting away. She loaded up her brush one more time and worked her way down the hallway a bit more. What was up with the pizza? She could hear voices faintly. Maybe they’d delivered the wrong pizza. Didn’t matter, Tommy would eat anything on a pizza crust. She carefully placed her brush down across the can of paint and headed for the door.
Tommy had placed the pizza on the little table in the entryway, where he was leaning and talking to the youngest Sorrentino girl. Theresa, Lori thought her name was. The girl must not be in any hurry to get to her next delivery. Lori quietly went to the kitchen and just as quietly set the table. It was several more minutes before Tommy brought in the pizza. He was smiling.
“You should invite her to the party,” Lori said. “You seem to have a love of pizza in common.”
“We were just talking,” he said.
“Well, invite her to the party if she isn’t working. You can talk about pizza all evening,” she said. “There won’t be that many people your age here anyway.”
Lori quickly ate her usual one piece of pizza, but, still hungry, decided one more piece wouldn’t hurt her. She’d worked it off lately anyway. Tommy wolfed down the rest, and then they returned to the hallway. The trim work done, Tommy did the rolling, which didn’t take nearly as long. The hallway looked clean and bright now. Lori paid Tommy his money and arranged for him to come back to help carry in the sofa on the day Catarina had named.
She walked around the house, taking stock of the changes she’d made. Tommy was about to lose his remodeling gig, because there wasn’t much left to do. She had already done nearly everything she’d decided needed to be done. What would she do with her time? Maybe she’d spend extra time with Jake? But she didn’t want to count on anything like that.
Her thoughts turned to school. Another ER nurse had recently begun a program to become an advanced practice nurse, and would be earning a hefty salary once she was done — not as much as a doctor, but much more than an RN. Half the time, patients going to see their doctor were actually seeing an advanced practice nurse. These nurses worked under the supervision of doctors and could do all the routine things doctors did. There were several different kinds, and she wasn’t sure which one she would like best. Family practice nurses usually did primary care, which she thought might seem too routine after her ER experience. Becoming a nurse anesthetist was another possibility, and that seemed to pay much more than the other possibilities, but she didn’t think that was right for her either. There were certified nurse-midwives, too, but she didn’t know much about childbirth. An emergency nurse practitioner seemed the obvious choice. She would be doing much of what she did now, but with much more autonomy. She probably should save up a little money before embarking on a new degree, she thought. Or maybe go ahead and take out student loans? She’d make so much more money that it should be easy to pay them back. She resolved to ask the other APNs she knew what advice they had.
She stepped into one of the spare bedrooms. She hadn’t done any work in any of them, except the small one next to her bedroom that she still intended to turn into a walk-in closet of sorts. It had seemed unnecessary to do much with the other spare rooms, as she never had house guests. But maybe she should turn one of them into a small study. She’d be logging a lot of time studying and writing papers if she did go back to school. She entered one on the other side of her bedroom from the one she intended to turn into a closet. There wasn’t much to this room. She could hire Tommy to give it some fresh paint and pull up the rug. If it had hardwood floors, she’d have Tommy polish them up, but if not, she’d just put down some new carpeting. A new desk and some bookcases would make this a good study room. She decided to take it up with Tommy the next time he came over.
She texted Tommy’s mother, Molly: “Hey girl! How’s my favorite baby mama?”
Molly texted back: “Huge. I’m glad your party is coming right up. I’m getting too big and uncomfy to do anything these days. Planning to start maternity leave next week and stay home and hibernate until I pop the pup”
Lori: “OK, sorry to hear, but you are coming to the party, right?”
Molly: “Def! If you are sure there’s room in your house for me — have gained a zillion pounds since we last hung out”
That made Lori feel a bit guilty for having abandoned her friend lately.
Lori: “I’ll stop by tomorrow after work, K?”
Molly: “Sounds good”
The next night Lori was surprised. Molly did indeed look a lot bigger than she remembered. She sneaked a sly glance at Molly’s ankles and was glad to see they didn’t look swollen. If they had, it might have been a sign of excessive water retention, maybe even preeclampsia. But it just looked like Molly was going to have a big baby. Molly didn’t even offer her a cup of tea. “If you want something, you’re going to have to get it yourself. I’m in beached whale mode and don’t feel like getting up,” she said. She was lying on the sofa in the living room, her mother’s old afghan draped over her.
“I’m good,” Lori said. “I’m not much of a tea drinker and I don’t feel like drinking wine while you’re unable to join me.”
“So tell me about the Jake situation,” Molly said, deftly changing the subject. Lori filled her in a bit.
“Well, we’ve been texting, but I guess you could say I’m playing hard to get.”
“Don’t you shock me into labor, Lori.”
“No, it’s just that I think it’s better to hold off a bit. Let things slowly develop.”
“Oh, if only you had a best friend who would have given you the advice to take things slowly once or twice or even a thousand times!”
“No more sarcasm from you, lady.”
“So what else is new with you?”
“Well, I’m thinking about going back and getting a master’s degree.”
“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Molly sat up, slowly and ponderously. “Really, you should! What are you going to get your master’s in?”
“I suppose I’ll go with the emergency nurse practitioner route, but I’m not sure yet. I might want to make a change. I have to think about it.”
“Our doula, Julie, is getting her RN and as soon as she’s done with that she’s going to start in on her master’s so she can be a certified nurse-midwife. You’d be great at that!”
“I probably know less about birth than you do at this point. I’ve been there a few times when moms with fast labors don’t make it past the ER, and I attended a few in nursing school, but that was years ago.”
“Hurry up and get one really fast and you can do this birth,” Molly joked.
“If you think you can hold off for a couple of years, sure, no problem,” Lori teased back.
“I seriously don’t know how I’m going to manage for three more weeks, let alone two years. I feel like I’m about to pop. But the doctor seems to be sure of his dates. And even if he wasn’t, I know exactly what night this baby was conceived,” she said, patting her bump. “Three more weeks to the due date. You know, you should invite Julie to the party. I think you’d really like her. She reminds m
e a lot of you in some ways.”
“OK. I’ll give her the official invite, but you should ask her to accompany you, since she doesn’t know me.”
“You want to feel this?” Molly nodded her head to her belly. Lori knelt on the floor — there was no room at all on the sofa — and Molly helped place Lori’s hand near the top of her belly. Lori felt a series of small kicks against her hand. She’d felt babies kick before, but feeling her friend’s baby brought her nearly to tears. The kicks stopped, and she reluctantly took her hand away.
“It’s good that you can feel the kicks up there,” Molly said. “That means the head is nice and low, right where it should be.
“You still don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Nope. It’s going to be a surprise. We’ll find out in the delivery room.”
Lori cut her visit short. David was in the kitchen making something — the smell of it wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t very appetizing, either. Lori was reminded of Tommy, of all people, complaining about David’s cooking and didn’t accept Molly’s invitation to stay longer. Her phone buzzed as she got into her car.
Jake: “How’s your evening?”
Lori: “Fine, just visiting Molly. The preggo one”
Jake: “OK, I won’t keep you. Have fun!”
Lori decided not to tell him she was just leaving. She’d wait a couple hours and then text him before bed. Their texting routine had already become a comfort to her; it was nice to have someone text her “good morning” and “good night” as he’d started doing. She longed to kiss him again but wasn’t sure she could trust herself to kiss him without losing her head. Still, he’d suggested they have dinner or a drink or both several times, and she wanted to see him just as badly. Maybe she’d accept his next invitation but arrange to take her own car. That would mean a more public goodbye, and, hopefully, a little less temptation.
Lori was indeed tempted. Their texting conversations had taken a more serious turn. They were starting to share some of their secrets. She confessed personal insecurities and past difficulties that she had never shared with any past boyfriend. He had seemingly bared his soul just as much. Lori felt so close to him, and so dazzled by him, that she was afraid one kiss would have her yanking down her panties. Still, it was a new experience to get to know someone so thoroughly without even having been to bed with him.
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