by Debra Druzy
“It’s time for me to go home.” She shoved him away and leapt over the tailgate like an escaping animal. “I’ll walk if you don’t want to drive me.”
“Lily! Lily, wait. Of course I’ll drive you home.” He shouldn’t have pressed so hard, but how could he fix the situation without knowing the whole story?
He parked in the driveway, and before he could come around to open the passenger door, Lily jumped out and ran into the house without even saying goodbye.
Chapter Nine
It was a quiet day at the barbershop. Lily spent most it leaning her forehead on the cold glass door, hoping to spot Nick cruising by in his silver pickup or tooling around in the red SUV. Propped in this position for nearly two weeks now, she needed to get out of the pathetic funk before Sophia dragged her to the doctor.
She hadn’t heard from him since the Thanksgiving debacle and doubted she ever would again. Not unless she sucked it up and apologized.
Apologize for what?
Remembering how he pushed her to the point of tears with his need-to-know nonsense started a new wave of disgust. She didn’t want a therapist, although she could use one.
She wasn’t even sure she wanted to sell her house any more. Especially since Sophia kept giving her a dirty look, trying to convince her it was a bad idea.
Lily wasn’t sure what she wanted any more, and she was tired of waiting for the pieces of her life to fall into place, rather than fall apart as they usually do.
When she wasn’t pining for a glimpse of Nick, she was holding her breath for the realtor to call with some good news. With her fingertip on the foggy glass, she calculated the dollar amount she might walk away with if the best offer came through, but she couldn’t figure it out. As long as there was enough money to clean the slate, she’d be satisfied.
“Lily?” Bob put down his newspaper. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Sophia came over and put the back of her hand to Lily’s forehead. “Maybe you should go see Dr. Kramer just to be sure you don’t have mono or the flu.”
“I just have a lot on my mind.”
Sophia snorted. “Maybe it’s just guilt for putting your house on the market. Your parents would be so disappointed—”
“Mind your business,” Bob grumbled on his way to the bathroom.
Sophia went back to filing her nails behind the cash register. “Your parents’ memories are tied to that house. Why don’t you let us help you with the bills if you’re having money problems?”
“I don’t feel like talking about it right now.” Lily slumped in the chair wishing she were anywhere but here.
“Do you want to talk about what happened on Thanksgiving?” Sophia tapped the file against the desk expectantly. “You said you were too sick to come over, yet I heard you were at the bar with some man.”
It was only a matter of time before the news filtered to Sophia’s ears. “His name is Nick.”
“Not that fireman.”
Lily nodded.
Sophia threw her palms in the air. “What about Bruno? He’s coming in a few weeks. I told him you wanted to meet him.”
“No—you want me to meet him.”
“Is something going on with the two of you?”
“No!”
“How old is he anyway?”
“What does it matter? He’s a good person. And…and I like him. A lot.”
Sophia’s eyes widened. “And?”
“And nothing. That’s it.” Lily bit her tongue to keep her emotions from escaping into runaway words. “There’s nothing more to tell. We’re just friends.”
“Well, I hope you’re not making friends with the wrong kind of man. I don’t want to see you get hurt…like your mother.” Glancing toward the ceiling, Sophia recited a quick prayer under her breath and made the sign of the cross.
“Would you please just stay out my business?”
“I’m only thinking what’s best for you.”
“I know—and I appreciate it. I really do. I’m sure Bruno is great and all…”
“Sophia!” Bob returned to his chair. “Leave the girl alone. If she likes Nick, she likes Nick. This isn’t your decision. The heart knows what it wants. Stop trying so hard to play matchmaker. We are not her parents. Only she knows what is right for her. She didn’t ask for our advice. So, let’s keep our opinions to ourselves.”
“Roberto Alfonso Barbieri, I cannot stand by and let someone I love set themselves up for failure.”
“I’m sure Lily can handle this without our help.”
“Sophia…” Lily broke in, hating to be the cause of such animosity. “I do want your help. I love your help. But not with this. I want to do this on my own.”
“Kill me for caring too much.” Sophia snatched her coat from the closet sending the hanger flying off the bar. “I’m going to get coffee. Want anything?” She stomped out before Bob or Lily could answer.
Bob grabbed Lily’s elbow before she dashed after Sophia.
“Let her go. She’s upset over something else, not just you. You’re just getting the tail-end of it.”
Seeing the weary lines on Bob’s plump face, Lily realized she wasn’t the only one with issues. “Is everything okay?”
“I dunno—I hope so. Our daughter came for Thanksgiving without her husband. She says they’re getting divorced. She wants to move back to New York with the kids and stay with us, but our condo is too small. She’ll have to find an apartment. A job. The boys’ll have to change schools. Sophia has a lot on her mind. And she needs to learn to keep her nose out of everyone’s business, even if she means well.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know.”
“So, you like this man—Nick? You think he could be the one?”
Lily half-shrugged and nodded, barely able to look Bob in the face as they discussed her romantic life. “I dunno,” she lied.
“I know Chief Maresca likes him, so he must be a decent fella.”
“He is.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“Besides his job.” It was easier to blame it all on Nick’s career than on herself for being too embarrassed to talk about her history.
Bob shook his head. “What happened to your father was a terrible thing. It doesn’t mean it’s going to happen to Nick. Sure, his job’s risky. So’s crossing the street. You can’t stop lovin’—just like you can’t stop livin’.”
“I know. You’re right. But it’s not just the job.” She released a pent-up sigh. “We seemed to get along so great—I was ready to forget everything my mother said about never dating a fireman. Then he wanted to talk about stuff from my past. And I-I didn’t. I wasn’t ready. Not that night. It was too soon—for me anyway. You know what I mean?”
Bob’s nodding head indicated he knew well enough.
“But he kept pushing and pushing. I was afraid I’d say something to drive him away. So I freaked out instead. I haven’t seen him since Thanksgiving.”
“Lily, everyone makes mistakes.”
“I know, I know. It’s probably for the best. I should never have gotten involved. I’m not ready for a real relationship anyway.”
“It’s okay to need time. Things that are worth having don’t happen overnight.”
“Well, he didn’t seem to need much time. He spilled his guts about everything. I tried, but couldn’t. He thinks I don’t trust him. I’m just not ready to give all my secrets away yet.”
“If he’s a real man, he knows trust and love take time. We call ‘secrets’ for a reason, otherwise, we’d be bragging about them. Everyone has them. We don’t become old and wise without being young and foolish first. You’re a good girl, with a good heart. If he’s not crazy about you by now, then there’s something wrong with him.”
“Thanks Bob.” She reached around his thick midsection with her head against his chest, breathing in his Old Spice, recalling what it was like to hug her dad, which made the tears already flowing come twice as easy.
Bob pri
ed her off after a moment. “No more crying, okay?”
She nodded.
“You know what?—I’m still waiting for that heart attack machine to come. It’s December already. Why’s it taking so long? Would you mind stopping by the firehouse to find out when it’ll be here? Someone could have a heart attack and drop dead on my floor. That someone could be me with all the drama around here these days. Go on and take your time.”
****
Nick sat behind Maresca’s desk fielding phone calls while the chief spilled scotch into two empty coffee mugs.
“How about getting into the Christmas spirit with me?”
Lord knows a drink was just what Nick wanted and the last thing he needed. He hadn’t told Maresca that he was livin’ la vida sobria, because, well, he didn’t think it was worth mentioning. “No thanks, Chief. I’m good.”
“Come on, will ya? ’Tis the season. You better get your jolly on. Smile a little. Start getting your mind around the role.”
“Don’t worry. I’m just tired. And my back is killing me, that’s all.”
“Well, I keep telling you to get a little apartment or something. A fella can only spend so many nights in the bunkroom.”
“You ain’t kiddin’.” Nick did a few neck rolls and shoulder shrugs to work out the kinks.
“By the way, I ordered lunch.”
“Great. I’m starving. Whatja get—pizza? Chinese?” Nick’s mouth watered, his empty stomach growling for something more satisfying than this morning’s cup of coffee and buttered bagel.
“Nah. I went with good old burgers and fries. Bad for the heart, good for the soul. I got you the Super Deluxe with extra bacon and cheese, no onions. I’m picking up the tab—you can pay the tip. Now, if I can just find The Suit… It’s gotta be around here somewhere,” Maresca said before continuing his mission.
The man was right about sleeping on the cot. Nick’s back was out of whack from the lack of lumbar support. He was getting too old for this. The slip of paper with the phone number got washed with the jeans, so he never called about that room-for-rent.
He swallowed some aspirins stashed the chief’s desk drawer and chased it with the last swig of coffee in the Styrofoam cup.
Reviewing his to-do list, aside from playing Santa Claus, there was only one item left, one name not in compliance with the fire code—Lily Lane.
Damn, he missed that girl. He had the everlasting ache in his groin to prove it.
He ought to be professional and complete this one last chimney inspection, but he felt stupid approaching her, considering how he ended things Thanksgiving night. A disgusted grunt escaped at the memory of telling her to talk or walk. He didn’t blame her for running away full speed.
Maybe he’d do a drive-by one of these days to apologize for being a bastard. He regretted dropping the ultimatum like he really meant it, playing the tough-love psychoanalytical Mr. Fix-It.
But he didn’t regret the kiss, though. It was too good to regret. Too good to forget.
Was it too late to ask for forgiveness?
Probably.
He called the real estate attorney again and left a message with the secretary. “Double her asking price. I don’t want anyone else to get it. And push to close in time for Christmas. Leave an open-ended move-out date with an option to rent…”
It was a slick plan.
Either she’d hate him more for being so sly.
Or she’d love him twice as much.
He hung up with newfound glory gushing through his veins just as a feminine voice jolted him to awareness.
“Got a special delivery for ya.” Britney’s slinky body hugged the doorjamb, dressed in a silver fur jacket, giving him a faux salute with red manicured nails that matched her lips.
Nick glanced at her, trying to read her vibe considering the last time he ran into her, with Lily, was the root of all his recent troubles.
“Hungry?” She jutted her hip and flipped a cloud of white-blonde hair over her shoulder.
Was she referring to herself? Or the brown paper sack in her hand reeking of the chief’s extra crispy onion rings? Nick kept his mouth shut.
“I haven’t seen ya ’round town.” She came in and closed the door with her hip. Dropped the bag on the chair, and parked her rear on the edge of the desk with her short skirt hiked up like an open invitation.
Between Britney and her noxious perfume mixing with the greasy, oniony odor, Nick suddenly lost his appetite.
“I’ve been busy.”
“I hope Chief Maresca isn’t working ya too hard. Where is that man anyway?”
“Around somewhere.” He kept his eyes glued to the clipboard.
“Mind if I wait here? I’ll just have myself a little bit of this and keep you company until he’s back.” She flicked her gum into the trashcan, picked a mug off the shelf, and poured some scotch.
“Maybe you could take your drink and wait somewhere else.”
“Geez. You don’t have to be so rude.”
“I’m not being rude.” Nick turned his attention to shuffling random papers he pulled from the bottom drawer, attempting to appear swamped. “I’ve got a ton of work to do.”
“You go right ahead. I won’t stop ya. I just wanna say goodbye to the chief.”
His curiosity piqued, Nick took the bait. “Going somewhere?”
“Key West, actually. I’m leaving tonight. My cousin has a steak house and needs some experienced help. What’ve I got to lose?—nothing. Might as well give it a shot. If I don’t like it I can always come back to Scenic View.”
“I really hope it works out for you.”
Britney drained the cup and poured some more. “I want you to know I have nothing against Lily. We were almost sister-in-laws you know.”
Well, it took long enough to mention her name. A sharp pang in his stomach had nothing to do with hunger. Interested in what she had to say, he felt guilty for listening. Thoughts of Lily and Mark together pinched a nerve behind his eye.
“I lost my baby brother because of her.” She sighed between sips with eyes welled up with tears. “She even stole my mother’s engagement ring.”
It took every bit of self-control not to throw her out the door for accusing Lily of such crap. He refused to believe she would steal a penny, never mind valuable jewelry.
Whatever the story, he needed to hear it from the source—if she ever spoke to him again. He fantasized about an apology, with some sweet make-up sex if he got lucky.
Nick got tired of hearing Britney’s slanderous complaints and decided it was time for this unwanted visitor to leave. She could come back later to say farewell to the chief.
The problem was, she didn’t seem to take the hint.
So, he tried the tactic that worked with his ex-wife whenever he wanted to get rid of her—just pull out some cash and poof, she disappeared, like magic, “Here.”
“The chief has a tab at the diner.”
“Consider it a tip.”
She unfolded the hundred-dollar bill, then smiled. Her cell phone chirped, and she checked the message on the screen. “Oops. Gotta run.”
Nick followed her out only to lock the office door behind her in case she returned.
“You sure about this? It’s a lot of money.”
“Keep it.”
She shoved it in her pocket. “Oh, in case I don’t make it back to say goodbye, would you give this to the chief for me?” Britney stretched her neck and planted a kiss on Nick’s cheek before sauntering away.
****
Lily froze in the hallway at the recognizable voices emerging from Chief Maresca’s office. The nasally Long Island accent belonged to Britney. And the owner of the smooth-talking cadence was Nick, without a doubt.
Nick and Britney? Together. In the chief’s office. Behind closed doors. Lily’s heart sank.
When the doorknob jiggled, she bunny-hopped backwards into the open broom closet across the hall before they caught her eavesdropping. Nibbling her thumbnail in
the cramped space, her pulse pounded in her jugular over her panicky breaths, making it harder to hear their words. She hoped she didn’t pass out in here. Wouldn’t that be hell to explain?
She’d peeked between the crack and caught the backside of Britney dressed in thigh-high boots and a fur jacket, stuffing money her pocket. And Nick with red lipstick on his cheek. The rumors of Britney being a hooker were true!
No! This. Can. Not. Be. Happening. Her brain screamed, but nothing passed her lips except for hollow breaths.
She needed air.
Needed to get out of the closet.
Out of the building.
Out of town.
She loved Nick, but was too foolish and afraid to tell him. Now it was too late; he moved on.
Running out the back door, she thanked God she didn’t collide into anyone.
Halfway home, operating on autopilot, heading in the direction of the blinding sun, she remembered her car parked in the lot behind the barbershop. She didn’t realize the stream of tears until her cheeks were stinging from the cold.
“Pull yourself together,” she urged, huffing and puffing white vapor clouds.
Once she barreled through the front door, she dove onto the bed, sobbing into the pillow until she was too exhausted to do anything but sleep off the heartbreak. She woke up with an emotional hangover at four in the afternoon of the same craptastic day.
With nothing left to lose, she turned on the laptop—a gift from Christmas past from the Secret Santa Society—and searched the web for New York City salons. Within an hour, she made a dozen phone calls and scored three interviews for tomorrow morning.
Now all she needed was an outfit other than her a velour tracksuit. As discouraging as shopping was, it might prove to be the distraction she needed to get her mind off Nick.
And Britney.
Britney and Nick.
The outfit Britney wore today was probably from the pole-dancer department of Violet’s Valise. Right up Nick’s slut-loving alley.
Lily didn’t need exotic attire. Just something contemporary and preferably stylish. Something from Walmart could work. However, when she stepped out the front door, her station wagon wasn’t there.
