Unfinished Business

by Roxanne Hensley

  Laura answered. “So, how was it?”

  “As good as I could expect at this point.” She recapped the details of the meeting, including the wait and see approach.

  “And how are you handling that?”

  “I guess I don’t have a choice, so I’ll have to dig deep to find patience.”

  “Who knows. Maybe she’s lying and it’s not his baby.”

  “Christian said that too.” She re-told his joke about daytime talk shows. “He’s so funny,” she mused.

  “I like the sound of this.”

  “Yeah, he seems really smart, and I’m happy to have someone like him in my corner.”

  “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about you. This is the most chipper you’ve sounded in a while.”

  “Well, I guess it’s nice to feel like someone is going to fight for me and my interests.”

  “Are you sure it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s hot?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Adrian blushed.

  “I Googled him. Nicely done. Think you can get him to hold you in contempt?”

  Before Adrian could answer, a car approached her mother’s house. Christian was in the driver’s seat. Adrian sat up a little straighter at the sight of him, running her fingers through her hair. What was he doing there?

  “Hello?”

  “Sorry, I need to call you back.” Adrian hung up the phone as they met each other in the driveway. “A house-call on a Wednesday evening? You sure are dedicated to your clients.”

  “Well, that’s why I’m here, actually.” Adrian’s heart dropped as she watched Christian look down at the ground and shift uncomfortably. “I’m going to have to defer your case to my colleague, Brian. I think he’ll be a better fit to represent you, whatever happens with it.”

  “Oh,” she said, finding it difficult to hide her disappointment. “Can I ask why?”

  “Well, I have a conflict of interest.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not very good at this,” he said, smiling nervously. “And my timing is terrible, I know. But I’m hoping that you might be interested in having dinner with me sometime.” He looked down at the ground, bracing himself for bad news, which was so endearing.

  “I’d love to.” The words fell out of her mouth without a thought, her response surprising them both. Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t have time to overthink it, knowing she’d probably talk herself out of a good time. Besides, it was just dinner, right?

  “Great,” he said, his confidence appearing to return. “I will transfer all your case details to Brian tomorrow morning and let him know we’re just waiting things out with Celeste for the time being. And how about Saturday night?”

  “Yes, that sounds good.” Her pulse raced.

  “Okay, I’ll pick you up at 7:30.”

  They shared an awkward goodbye reminiscent of two teenagers parting in the hallway outside of fifth period. As she watched him drive away, she called Laura back. “You won’t believe what just happened.” She felt seventeen again, musing about her upcoming date with her best friend.

  15

  After taking care of some housekeeping for Margaret, Adrian headed toward the beach to work on her latest painting. It was mid-morning, and the sun was already blazing. Summer had arrived, even though it was only mid-March. Some people joked that Florida only had two temperatures: hot and hotter. Adrian couldn’t disagree, especially on a balmy morning like this one. She took off her cover-up, determined to work on her tan while she painted.

  She took a deep breath before using a pencil to sketch Henry and Betty dancing in Heaven. His story touched her heart, and she hoped the painting would touch his too. Seeing the love in his eyes as he recounted his last dance with his wife left Adrian hopeful that she could find a love like that. Whenever she was ready, of course.

  Resolved with her sketch, she prepared her paints, including two jars for water. As her paintbrush drifted over the canvas, her thoughts drifted toward Christian. Part of her was so flattered by his invitation, and she was amazed there was no hesitation in her acceptance. However, she couldn’t help wondering in the light of a new day if it was all happening too soon.

  The dirt on Brad’s grave had barely settled, and there she was, accepting a date from another man. What would people think? In other people’s eyes, they were a perfect couple, and only three people knew of his infidelity. Well, four with Christian’s partner taking over as her counsel.

  Christian.

  There certainly was something about him that made her feel completely at ease. His warm, protective presence invited her in, as if he could shield her from every care in the world. When he’d asked her out to dinner, he’d looked like an awkward teenager, which made him even more adorable in her eyes. How could a man that gorgeous be remotely unsure of himself?

  Regardless of their obvious chemistry, was she truly ready to put herself out there again? She still felt pain from what Brad did, and now had a physical embodiment of his infidelity growing in someone else’s belly.

  Allegedly.

  Right?

  The timing certainly wasn’t ideal. She had her mother to worry about on top of everything else. Margaret’s condition certainly wasn’t getting any better, and Adrian would have to face the fact that her mother would make her way to Heaven soon. Would the same little girl be there to greet her too? Maybe she should share that experience with her mother. She couldn’t remember the last time Margaret had talked about spirituality and had no clue what her beliefs were on what lies beyond the veil.

  She painted the figures dancing together in a golden field. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun. The last several months had been so heavy, and she could use some levity. It was just dinner. It wasn’t like they were going to get married or anything. What was the harm in sharing a meal with an old high school friend?

  Although the way he made her feel was certainly more than friendly. Every brief touch set fire to her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. But that didn’t mean they had to act on those impulses. Besides, she didn’t know much about him. Maybe he had some bad habits, like leaving the toilet seat up or squeezing toothpaste from the top of the tube. Oh, who was she kidding? Like any of that mattered. He was probably perfect and never farted or burped and said lustful things like, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the dishes,” and, “Here, let me pour you more wine and give you a back rub.” She smiled at the thought.

  There was no denying something was there, but she needed to take her time. She’d barely sewn the pieces of her heart back together and couldn’t take someone ripping it apart again.

  She’d just have to be honest. That wouldn’t be too hard, would it?

  Adrian quietly celebrated as she carefully placed her painting across the backseat. She admired her creation, feeling proud of her accomplishment. She imagined the look on Henry’s face when she would give him the painting at the next group meeting. Her heart warmed, feeling like she was finally living her destiny. She could get used to this.

  When she got home, she saw Margaret, Bev, and Gilda playing cards at the dining table. They were excitedly talking about something, completely oblivious to her presence. The smile on her mother’s face was infectious. Margaret looked to be almost glowing. It was good to see her spirits up, and Adrian thanked God for her mother’s friends, as rowdy as they may be.

  “And just what are you girls talking about?” Adrian asked, approaching the table. They all sat up a bit straighter, as if their roles were reversed, and she was the parental figure busting them for doing some illicit activity. Knowing them, it was entirely possible.

  “Nothing,” Margaret responded, her eyes shifty.

  “Oh, come on Margie,” Gilda said. “We were talking about Harold,” she said to Adrian, holding her hand over her mouth as if hiding the response from the rest of the table.

  “Oh, really? What about him?” Adrian raised an eyebrow.

&nbs
p; “Adrian has a date tomorrow night,” Margaret said before anyone else could answer, throwing her daughter to the wolves.

  “Oh, really?” Gilda said with a raised eyebrow, mimicking Adrian. “Sit down, sit down, and tell Gilda all about it.” She motioned for Adrian to take the chair next to her. Adrian looked at Margaret with wide eyes. Her mother shrugged and gave her a smug smile. Gilda practically pulled Adrian down into the chair as Adrian’s cheeks turned various shades of red. “So, who is this fella, anyway?” Gilda leaned in, her chin resting on her hand.

  “Christian. He’s a friend…from high school.” Adrian chose her words carefully, trying to strike a balance between just enough detail to satisfy their inquisitive minds and retaining some level of privacy.

  “My nephew?” Bev piped up. “Oh, he’s always had a thing for you, you know.” She smiled conspiratorially.

  “Really?” Adrian wondered what Christian shared with Bev, and if it was anything recent.

  “The plot thickens!” Gilda proclaimed, hands thrown in the air. “So, where is he taking you?”

  “To dinner.” Adrian tried to cut the conversation as short as possible. The three of them looked at her, waiting for more detail. They could probably wait forever, so she gave in. “He mentioned some restaurant on the beach. I don’t really know much other than that.”

  “Well, if it’s Rock Island Grill, he means business,” Gilda said. “He will expect you to put out.”

  Adrian’s stomach dropped. Was she serious? He didn’t seem like the type who would expect that sort of thing from a first date. While they’d known each other for years, they didn’t really know each other. Had expectations from first dates changed that much since she’d been out of the game? Her pulse raced. Was it hot in there?

  “Christian isn’t that kind of guy.” Bev shook her head. “He’s a gentleman.”

  Adrian forced a smile at her words of assurance, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

  “He may be a gentleman, but any man knows there’s no place that makes the panties drop like Rock Island Grill.” Gilda’s eyebrows wagged.

  “Stop it. You’re scaring the poor girl,” Bev scolded, slapping Gilda on the wrist.

  Adrian grew pale, looking at her mother for help. Margaret just shrugged. She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I know I’ve been out of the game a little while, but is that really expected these days?”

  “Take it from me, honey. He’s serious,” Gilda said. Bev shook her head in disagreement, leaving Adrian conflicted.

  “Let’s go back to talking about Harold. That sounded much more interesting.”

  “How long has it been for you?” Gilda asked, ignoring Adrian’s attempt to change the subject.

  “How long since what?”

  “Since you’ve had sex.”

  “Gilda, really,” Margaret chided. Finally.

  Gilda brushed her off. “I’m waiting.”

  “Oh, I don’t know…” The last thing Adrian wanted to do was talk about her sex life in front of her mother.

  “If you have to think about it, it’s time to get the cobwebs out of there.”

  “This is the company you keep?” Adrian asked Margaret, pointing at Gilda.

  Margaret grinned. “Happily.”

  “Coconut oil is a nice all-natural lubricant. Take it from me, kid.” Gilda said.

  “I can’t trust coconut oil coming from any of you,” Adrian said. Bev laughed heartily, and they all followed suit. “At this point I’m dipping a pinkie toe in the dating pool. I’m not ready to dive in just yet.”

  “I want to hear all the details. Or at least, what you feel like sharing.” Bev gave Adrian a hopeful smile. “Christian is a good boy. He deserves someone nice like you.”

  “Thanks. We’ll see what happens.” Adrian shrugged. She tried to keep her excitement at bay as much as possible. But thinking about his smile, his broad shoulders and strong arms enveloping her while his eyes looked at her with adoration made diving into the deep end seem inevitable.

  16

  Adrian attempted to steady her hand as she applied eyeliner, but it slipped, and she resolved herself to the cat eyed look that evening. It had been a while since her last first date, and she looked in the mirror and shrugged. Not too shabby. She finally left the bathroom to get a second opinion from her mother, whose eyes were glued to the TV. She cleared her throat to get attention. “Do I look okay?”

  Margaret shrugged. “Sure.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Maybe she should put on a different dress. Again. For the seventh time.

  “Sorry. You look mahhhvelous dahhling.”

  “Thanks, Ma.” Adrian sat on the sofa, fidgeting as she waited. “When are you expecting the girls?”

  “In about a half hour or so. When are you leaving?”

  “In a hurry to get rid of me or something?”

  “No, just curious is all.” Margaret maintained eye contact with the weatherman on TV. If Adrian didn’t know any better, she’d suspect her mother seemed a bit nervous too.

  “I was joking, you know.”

  The doorbell rang. Adrian’s pulse raced as she stood.

  “Take a deep breath. You’ll be fine.” Margaret’s kind words took Adrian by surprise. She opened the door to see Christian on the other side. She exhaled, suddenly feeling calm when their eyes locked. He looked perfect in a light blue polo shirt that was tucked into a pair of dark wash jeans. His curly hair was still a little damp, and hints of his cologne tickled her senses.

  “Wow, you look…” He trailed off, his gaze traveling over her body. She blushed, feeling confident in her seventh dress change: A pale-yellow maxi dress drawing attention to her collarbone and shoulders.

  “You too,” she admired.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Russo,” Christian said to Margaret.

  “And what exactly are your intentions toward my daughter?” Margaret crossed her arms, feigning sternness as Adrian rolled her eyes.

  “Honorable, ma’am. Scout’s honor.” He held his hands up in the proper salute.

  “Have her back home at a reasonable hour.”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay, that’s enough. Bye, Ma.” Adrian pulled the door shut behind them.

  You can tell a lot about someone from their car. Christian’s was a practical sedan with nice upgrades, but nothing too flashy. A modest choice for someone who could probably afford more based on his profession, and the smell of his cologne hung in the air. Everything was meticulous. Not even an old drug store receipt sat on the floorboard, and there were no old gum wrappers abandoned in the cup holders.

  “So, where are you taking me this evening?”

  “A place right on the beach in an old 1940s bungalow called Rock Island Grill. It came highly recommended, so I figured we’d check it out.”

  Adrian’s eyes grew wide and her pulse raced. That was the place Gilda mentioned. Would he really expect her to put out on the first date? She swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “Sounds great.” She could barely concentrate on their conversation on the way over, her mind racing with possible and probable expectations. Their elbows grazed on the center console a couple of times and sent shivers up her arm, which did nothing for her concentration. A drink would definitely help calm her nerves.

  He pulled up to the front of the restaurant, handing his keys to a valet as he walked around and opened the door for Adrian. He guided her into the restaurant by placing his hand on the small of her back. His touch felt intoxicating, and she had to concentrate to walk. He asked the hostess for a table on the patio overlooking the ocean.

  The sun inched closer to the horizon as it began its daily descent. The ocean swelled against the shore, and traces of salt and oleander lingered in the air. Beach grass swayed gently on sand dunes, framing couples standing near the shoreline to catch the sunset. Christian’s hands inched closer to Adrian’s across their blue and gold mosaic bistro table, threatening to meet as they made small
talk.

  Their waiter, a stocky man with a thick mustache and a newsboy hat, interrupted with the specials for the evening. Christian took the liberty of ordering a bottle of Pinot Grigio.

  “You read my mind.” Adrian smiled.

  “One of my many talents.”

  “Oh, yeah? What else are you holding out on me?”

  “You’ll see.” He winked.

  Her body fluttered with nerves as she bit her lip. Her mind raced with the infinite possibilities in that two-word sentence. Was she ready to open Pandora’s Box?

  Their waiter uncorked the bottle of wine at the table. Christian told him to just pour after he offered to let him taste it first, and he filled two wine glasses. He raised his glass, and she mimicked him.

  “What should we drink to?”

  Before he could answer, elevated voices pulled their attention to an adjacent table. A middle-aged woman with blond waves cascading down her back sat opposite a stout man, whose bald spot blinded Adrian more than the setting sun.

  “Are you crazy? This is our second date!”

  “But when you know, you know,” he said. “And I knew the moment I saw you.”

  “That’s just creepy.” The blonde stood.

  “Don’t go, Cathy. I love you.” The bald man reached for her. His belly bumped the table, knocking Cathy’s drink onto her gossamer coral dress. Adrian spotted the glint of a diamond ring on the table as Cathy stormed off. The man sat down, head hung low, as a waiter approached the table to clean up the mess. “Bring me a double martini, two olives, please,” he said, and the waiter made quick work with his order. “Didn’t mean to give everyone a show tonight with dinner.”

  “Poor guy,” Christian said.

  “Bold move proposing on the second date.”

  “I better flag down the waiter and call off my plans.” Christian’s eyes grew wide as he pretended to grab the waiter’s attention, mouthing “no dessert.”