by Joy Penny
“Baldwin, I really think we should get going…”
“We are, we are.” He patted his wife’s shoulder and guided her past Brielle to the cars behind her. Mrs. Ward looked over her shoulder back at the condo, frowning, but said nothing more.
“What’s the occasion?” asked Brielle, perhaps oblivious to the daggers Archer’s mother was shooting at her. “Congrats…?”
“Oh.” Archer snapped back into the moment and jingled his car keys. “I got my license since… since we saw each other last.” He tried to smile, tried to seem friendly, but the fact was, it still hurt to think of how they’d parted ways. Even if she’d never guaranteed anything more than a single lay.
“That is congrats!” Brielle shook her head and waved a hand at her face. “That is, I mean, congrats…”
“Thanks.” He really smiled this time. He wasn’t sure why, but she seemed so nervous. He still wasn’t sure why she was even there. Peering around her torso, he backed his wheelchair up. “Want to come in?”
“Don’t you have to go?” She gestured over her shoulder. Pauline and his parents stood gathered around the side of Pauline’s van, talking. His mother’s head kept turning toward the condo while Pauline’s kept glancing at one of the chiseled moving men whenever he passed by.
“Please,” he insisted.
“Okay,” said Brielle. “Just for a minute, though. I…” She glanced over her shoulder and bit her lip. Did she know that drove Archer crazy? He had to look away as she stepped in and shut the door behind her.
“I’m sorry.”
That made Archer look up. “What?”
“I’m sorry.” The pale pink of her nail polish—a new addition, he noticed—distracted him as she clutched her hands together tightly in front of her thighs. It made her fingers look so long and elegant. “I’m sorry I got so defensive. I’m sorry I got freaked out about us. I’m sorry I jumped into bed without spending more time just as friends and getting to know you—”
“I never complained about you jumping into bed with me,” said Archer, sure he ought to make that clear. “Although to be perfectly honest, we never quite got to the bed, did we?”
That actually made Brielle snicker. Archer took that as a good sign. But an uncomfortable thought flitted to the forefront of his mind. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks.” He grimaced. “A month.”
“I’d say I didn’t hear from you, either, but I think I know why.” She ran a hand over her forearm. Even slightly shiny with sweat, her skin was so irresistible. Maybe because she was slicked in sweat. Had she been working out at the park? “I wasn’t in a good place a few weeks ago, and I had no business starting something—anything, a friendship even—with you and then just… walking out on it.”
Friendship. It took every fiber of Archer’s being not to deny that word. It would probably push her away again. Besides, he knew they weren’t more than friends. He just knew he wanted them to be. “I’m sorry for coming on too strong,” he said. “I’m sorry for anything I said that disappointed you… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my mother forgetting all about her promise—”
“No, it’s okay,” she said. “I mean it.” She took a deep breath but didn’t say anything more, choosing instead to stare at Archer’s knees.
He felt a bit self-conscious about how thin they looked in his dress pants. “But now you’re in a good place?” he said, remembering what she’d said before “friendship.” He tried to smile again. He wanted her to be happy, no doubt about that, but a small, jealous part of him—an irrational part, he knew, like a woman’s happiness was solely defined by such a thing—was worried it was partially due to a new boyfriend.
God forbid it was that ex-boyfriend.
“Yeah.” Her dark red lips went wide as she smiled. “I got a museum job.”
“That’s great!” said Archer, and he meant it. Even if the news hit him as if the floor had been ripped out from underneath him. Stupid. It’s not like you had any hope at this point. He wondered if she came then to make peace, to start her new life without the awkwardness of how they’d parted ways hanging over her. He swallowed. “What city?”
She cocked her head. “Oh!” Her eyes widened in acknowledgement. “Here! I mean, I got a job at the museum here—downtown. The history museum.”
The museum so dinky Mother can hardly bear to support it? He laughed at himself. Like he cared about such things. His mother might like to pretend she was really from Chicago, banished to this shadow in Chicago’s presence only by necessity since his dad’s business was here, but he couldn’t care less about the “prestige” of the museum. Especially since that meant Brielle wasn’t going far.
“What’s so funny?” asked Brielle, but she looked like he hoped he would let her in on the joke.
“Nothing,” he said, quickly. “I’m just… glad you’ll be here. I mean, I guess that makes me horrible—”
“Why does that make you horrible?”
“Because I wanted you here.” He ran a hand through his hair, gripping the short strands as if trying to assuage some of his guilt. “I wanted to get to know you better. I wanted to be more than just a one-night stand. I wanted to be… more than friends. But I knew you had plans to leave this place, and I didn’t think it would be appropriate for me to go with you—if I could even figure out how to manage that with my mother and Pauline and everything my parents do for me—so I wanted you to stay. Which makes me horrible.”
Closing the already-cramped distance between them, Brielle laid a hand on his shoulder. “That makes you really sweet.” She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. “Especially since you weren’t going to try to stop me if I did wind up leaving.” She kissed his temple and laughed. “Sorry, I kind of stink right now.”
“You don’t stink.” He reached an arm out and grabbed her from behind, intending to aim for the small of her back but getting her butt instead and not even feeling sorry about it. “You smell great,” he whispered to the space beneath her breasts. “I missed you.”
She leaned into him, resting her soft breasts atop his head. “I’m glad,” she said. “I thought I totally messed things up with you.”
“We barely had anything to mess up yet,” he said. “Besides… If you could forgive me after I treated you like the help during that first meeting, I can forgive you anything.”
The sound of her laughter was like the first warm day of spring. “The help? Okay, rich boy.”
“Sorry,” said Archer into her shirt. He didn’t even care that it was damp. Her wetness was intoxicating. “I wasn’t even rude to you because I actually thought that. I just…”
“Didn’t like being around people?” she offered.
“Didn’t know how to act around someone so gorgeous.” He squeezed again, taking more of her ample buttock into his grip. Firm but gentle, trying to take hold of as much of her as he could without hurting her. Trying to hold on to her before he opened his eyes and discovered it was all a dream.
“I don’t stink and I’m gorgeous? You’re such a flatterer.”
A loud clonk from the condo above made them both jump and despite what he actually wanted to do with her just then, Archer pulled away. She was staring up at the ceiling. “I should get back,” she said, peering back down at him. “And you should get to your dinner.”
He felt like she’d taken the wind out of him as she pulled away, dancing her long, elegant fingers over his shoulder and grinning as she headed closer to the door.
Then she stood stock-still. She chuckled and shook her head. “But I should tell you why I even came down here just now.” She pointed above her. “I know you were worried that you were being the creepy one by wanting to keep dating me despite thinking I might move away. But I, uh, moved upstairs without consulting you and… I understand if you don’t want to see me, but I hope we can start over again. I’m… That is, I’ve grown a touch fond of you.”
That was the last thing he’d pictured her revealing just now. Upstairs. Upstai
rs. He didn’t even care that there was no way he was ever safely climbing up those stairs to see her place, she was going to be mere feet above his head, a thirty-second-post-text away, a part of his life for the foreseeable future.
He grabbed for her hand and squeezed it. “Welcome to the neighborhood, new neighbor,” he said. He lowered his voice. “I think I’m more than a little fond of you, too.”
He was a little late joining his parents at his new car. And he didn’t even notice his tie was crooked and his top few buttons had come undone until he fastened his seatbelt.
Epilogue
Brielle pulled into the guest parking lot—Naomi took the detached garage space for her car, which was only fair considering it was her place and she had a much nicer vehicle to protect from the elements anyway—right next to where the handicapped spaces ended and felt a warmth in her abdomen at just the sight of Archer’s van.
She knew he’d be home. He was pretty much always home. And despite the progress he’d made in the many months since she’d known him, he was still a bit scared to drive alone. And his mother was no help, naturally. She still insisted on driving them whenever they went out—even if his dad had suggested they replace their van with something sleeker since Archer had his own vehicle. She wouldn’t hear of it, insisting that there could come a day when she had to drive him to the doctor because he wouldn’t feel up to it. So if Brielle hadn’t made him drive them out on dates half the time and Pauline hadn’t made him drive on errands, he might not have gotten much use out of his newfound skill at all.
Considering his girlfriend lived a very short walk away.
Brielle jumped out of the car and clicked her car remote to lock it, took a step toward the sidewalk, then remembered her phone and the books Jim had given her to read up on for the upcoming exhibit. Oh my god. She’d been distracted enough to leave her phone on the seat. And her purse. And everything. Luckily she’d had brains enough to grab her keys before she locked the door.
Her phone buzzed as she shoved the books into her tote bag—there were more books than there was space—and tossed the purse strap over her head in a hurry. It practically choked her as she bent over to grab the phone.
She’d been exchanging some mushy sentiments with Archer the last time she’d used it. The picture he’d sent her had made her want to rush home—or more accurately, rush to his home. Screw the bathroom and freshening up trip she often made to her place first. She didn’t want to wait even one more minute.
CALL ME read the text. It was her mom.
She didn’t cringe every time her mom wanted to talk to her anymore since even though her mom hadn’t been thrilled with the sort-of-low-end salary she’d been offered at the museum, she wasn’t living at home, either, so her mom had little room to criticize. Plus, she was doing something with her degree. Not that her mom had revealed any concrete plans to downsize since, but maybe that was because Nora was still living with her.
Nora. Grimacing, Brielle decided she had to call and make sure her little sister hadn’t run off once again. She’d thought she was making progress and it was too late for that language camp she’d wanted to go to (she said she was saving her earnings from the summer to go to the camp next year—promised she’d even keep working one day every weekend during the school year), but you really could never tell with Nora.
“Hi, Mom,” said Brielle, adjusting the phone between her shoulder and her cheek so she could shuffle all the crap she was juggling in her hands. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” replied her mom. “What do you mean?”
Brielle rolled her eyes, even though—or more likely because—there was no one there to see it. “I just got a jolt of panic when I saw your text is all.”
“Oh, sorry, no. I just wanted to check in with you. How’s work?”
“Great,” said Brielle. And she meant it. “Jim is giving me more and more responsibility every day. I might have a big part in the presentation of the next traveling exhibit.”
“Wonderful!” The phone went silent for a moment. “I wanted to ask you… and Archer… over for dinner. Maybe this weekend?”
“That’s nice of you to ask,” said Brielle, straightening up and switching the phone to her other ear. When it buzzed with a notice of a text, she pulled the phone away from her ear to see that it was from Gavin. Leave it to everyone she knew to be contacting her when all she wanted to do was run inside and jump Archer’s bones after she saw what he’d teased her with when he’d sent her that picture. She snapped back to the point at hand. “I don’t know how easily he can get up the couple steps to the porch,” she said. She’d gotten used to that—thinking about accessibility. Something she never thought she’d have to think about until maybe her mom was so old she required more help from Brielle than Brielle did from her.
“Right,” said her mom. “I didn’t think about that. We can go out or… Maybe I can ask someone to install one of those ramps?”
Brielle almost dropped the pile of papers in her hands. Wow. Her mom really was being supportive. “Another railing would do,” she said, placing her large pile atop Archer’s van’s hood and hoping it didn’t cause a dent. “He can get up a couple of stairs if he has the right support, just really carefully.”
“Hmm,” said her mom. “That would work. It might help with the value of the house too.”
Brielle had gotten used to her mom dropping little hints like that. That she wanted to downsize, that even their small three-bedroom ranch was getting to be too much for her to clean, that she was tired after spending all day cleaning and just didn’t have the effort to put into its upkeep. “Just let me know when you want me to finish clearing out my stuff,” said Brielle.
Her mom laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I think Nora would kill me if I made her move before the end of her senior year.”
Brielle started shuffling her pile again, feeling her heart jump as one of the papers started fluttering and almost went flying in a gust of wind. She snatched it only a few inches into the air and clonked her elbow down on the hood, wincing at the loud sound.
“What was that?” asked her mom.
“Wind,” said Brielle. She wasn’t entirely lying.
“So how about Saturday? 6:00?”
“Sounds great,” said Brielle. “I’ll check with Archer to make sure he doesn’t have a deadline he can’t miss, but I’m sure he’s free.”
“Okay,” said her mom. At the sound of more rustling paper and more clomping on the car hood, she laughed. “Bri…?”
“Yeah?” Both hands spread out on the hood, the phone cradled on her shoulder again, Brielle spit out a piece of hair.
“I’m proud of you,” said her mom.
That so stunned Brielle, she almost loosened her grip and lost a pile of papers. She was going to propose they focus more on digital handouts in the future. Bring the museum out of the mid-twentieth century already. “Thanks…” she said after a bit.
“I’m sorry for how I acted this summer,” her mom added. “I’d just been thinking and well… There was the stuff with your sister to deal with and I’d read so many stories about kids moving back home after college and I was afraid. I was afraid things would never change for any of us, afraid you’d be just as stuck in a rut as I was, afraid you’d make mistakes you couldn’t take back.”
“Mom, is this about me or about you and Dad?”
“No, not about him. Not even about you really. Just about me and not knowing what I was going to do when I was your age. If I hadn’t had you girls, if I hadn’t separated from your father, I don’t know if I’d ever have found direction. I only started this business so I could provide for you girls.”
“I know,” said Brielle. “Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” she said. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’re a smart woman and a good person. Thank you, Bri.” She went silent as Brielle stood back up, shuffling the papers now that the gust of wind had died down. “See you this weeke
nd.”
Brielle’s phone buzzed again. Gavin was practically screaming at her in text form to answer already. She chuckled. “See you, Mom,” she said. “Thanks for the invite.” She hung up and sighed. She was mere feet from Archer’s door, but she really wasn’t going to get there at this rate.
What? Sorry. Busy. Papers flying everywhere. Mom having epiphany.
Off work and about to shag hot comic guy? replied Lilac.
Oh, thought Brielle. It was a group text.
Basically, she typed back. Why, your dorky mascot still in his costume and you’re trying to fill the time while he gets his handler to get him unstuck?
Shut up, answered Lilac, but she added a smiling emoji. No one gets him out of his costume but me. Brielle was glad things were better with her after what she’d been through earlier that summer. Glad things were settling down for her. While she never would have thought Lilac would find him a pleasing prospect from what she’d heard about him, this guy she’d hooked up with down in Florida… He seemed to give Lilac something she’d been missing. Something she needed.
Okay, dirty ladies, typed Gavin. Can we move on, please? I gathered you here today for a very important announcement.
How are we ‘gathered’ anywhere exactly? asked Lilac, but Gavin ignored her.
First… Pembroke has something to say.
Pembroke was lurking in the conversation, as quiet in the chat as she would have been had they been gathered in real life.
A bar appeared to indicate she was typing, but she sure took her time.
I think I’m in love, she wrote.
No one responded for a bit. Then the screen exploded with questioning emoji.
How? asked Lilac. I thought you said you weren’t into romance.
She isn’t into sex, said Gavin. Big difference.
Maybe for you, typed Lilac. She paused. Told you you just hadn’t found the one, Pem.
