“You’re not supposed to lie to life coaches to score your best friend a date, either.”
“Oh, I see. Paybacks for Elaine, huh?”
“No, I think you did the right thing there, or maybe not the right thing, but a good thing.”
“So you were just messing with me for your own amusement?”
“Absolutely. And I have to admit, you were very amusing.” She didn’t try to suppress her grin.
“Yeah, well, for a computer programmer, being seen as anti-Asian is kind of the death knell.”
“Oh, so now you’re saying all Asians are good at computer programming?”
“No.” Lisa stayed cool this time. “I think you’d actually be pretty terrible at it.”
Marty couldn’t even pretend to pout this time. “You’re spot-on there. I still have trouble running my iPhone some days. Don’t even talk to me about online banking.”
“I have to balance Joey’s checkbook most of the time.”
“She still has a checkbook?”
“I know, right? I’m surrounded by troglodytes.”
Marty laughed at Lisa’s good-natured insult. “I don’t know many people who use the word troglodyte.”
“Maybe that’s because you don’t know many people who are so regularly imposed on by them.”
“Or maybe it’s because I don’t know many computer geniuses. I suppose after MIT, regular people always fall short in that area for you.”
“No. MIT was too stuffy. Everyone knew everything, or they thought they did. Most of them only knew a lot about the very tiny world they occupied.”
That was awfully insightful. “Is that why you came back to Buffalo?”
Lisa shrugged as the waitress approached. They both ordered, and Marty wondered if Lisa was happy to have dodged her last question. Very little about her demeanor had changed, but the lowering of her eyes and the slight twitch in her smile indicated a momentary lapse in her playfulness. She wondered what hid beneath the façade, but she’d promised not to push.
“I’m not an East Coast kind of person,” Lisa finally said. “I’m a Rust Belt kid, at least on the inside.”
“Were your parents a lot like Joey’s dad?”
She shook her head. “They couldn’t be more different, on any level.”
Marty waited, spellbound by the flicker of sadness in Lisa’s eyes.
“But Joey’s family became my family. I spent more time at their house than my own. All the money in the world can’t buy a connection like that, you know?” She straightened up and her smile returned. The sadness was gone, or at the very least buried now. “Besides, without me around, Joey would’ve never gotten a date. Someone has to look after that loveable muck.”
“Yes, everyone needs a friend like that.”
“What about you?” Lisa asked. “Who gets you into the good kind of trouble?”
Marty thought about the answer. She had friends, a few of them close, a few of them long-term, though no one fell into both categories. “Well, I can’t say that anyone in my life is particularly reliable as a troublemaker.”
“You know what they say, if you look around the room and can’t find the troublemaker, it’s probably you.”
Marty laughed. “I’ve never heard that before, but I think you may be right.”
“Really? Are you the rabble-rouser in the Marty Maine circle of acquaintances?”
A million memories came back to bombard her at once, from childhood pranks, to bending rules at work, to jaywalking the streets of New York on a daily basis. “Wow, I think I might be. I am the troublemaker!”
“I feel like that’s quite a breakthrough,” Lisa said smugly.
“I see myself in a whole new light.”
“There you go, life-coached!”
“Life-coached?”
“Sure, isn’t that what you people say when someone has the lightbulb moment?”
“No.” Marty laughed. “I’ve never used the term life-coached as a catch phrase.”
“You should. That’s good marketing.”
“I’m pretty sure my professional organization would be opposed to using the name of the entire profession as a personal branding tool.”
“What do you care?” Lisa said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “You’re the rule breaker.”
*
“Okay, I have to tell you something,” Marty said as they left the restaurant.
Lisa stopped, her heart hammering in her chest. Those words rarely meant anything good. “Lay it on me.”
“You were right, that meal was better than anything I’ve had at home, Asian heritage or not.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in and several more long seconds to realize that was the end of Marty’s confession. Food. She sighed heavily. “Wow. Okay. Yeah, it’s pretty damn good, right?”
“Wait.” Marty rested a hand gently on her arm. “What did you expect me to say?”
Lisa shrugged and started toward the car again. “I don’t know. Could’ve been anything.”
“Like what?”
She didn’t want to give too much away. “Like, I don’t know, maybe you have a contagious disease, or maybe you’re looking to score some cocaine, or maybe you changed your mind and would rather stay at the airport instead of with me.” Did she say that last part aloud?
Marty shook her head slightly. “That’s so silly.”
“I thought life coaches weren’t supposed to tell people their fears were silly.”
“Wait a second.” Marty pretended to pull a book out of thin air and flip through it. “Let me check the life-coach handbook.”
Lisa stood there, rolling her eyes while Marty played out the gag and closed her imaginary book. “No. Sorry, don’t see anything here about me not mocking a non-client’s unfounded delusions of me not liking her.”
“You’re kind of a smart-ass,” Lisa finally said, grudgingly.
“I feel like, coming from you, that’s a compliment.”
“It totally is.”
Marty smiled and Lisa returned the expression. Her cheeks felt a little sore from doing that so much. She generally thought of herself as a pretty happy person. If someone had asked her a week ago if she smiled a lot, she would’ve said yes, but somehow she felt like she’d smiled more with Marty in less than twenty-four hours than she’d smiled in a year. How was that possible?
Sure, they’d spent one pretty amazing evening together, but that was all on fake time. Magical wedding time. Time spent on Joey and Elaine’s romantic stage. But she wasn’t anything like Joey. And yet, here she was with a smart, funny woman who not only wanted to be with her, she was totally making that point by busting her chops. Hell, if she didn’t know better, she’d start to think the magic of this moment might really be theirs alone.
But she did know better. Marty was killing time. She wouldn’t be here if not for a canceled flight, and what’s more, even if she did stay, could she really find Lisa compelling long-term? No one else had, and not just lovers either. The question about her parents had driven home that message again.
“What’s next, Buffalo tour guide?” Marty asked, pulling her out of her internal beat down.
“Well…” Lisa drew out the word. “Here’s the thing. I don’t know much about you.”
“What’s on the list so far?”
“You’re a life coach.”
“As you have established multiple times.”
“You like fine wine and the chicken dance.”
“Check to the wine, and I do like the way you do the chicken dance.”
Lisa grinned and started to make another joke, but her breath grew shallow as another memory came sharply into focus. “You like snow-filled balconies in soft light.”
Marty’s lips curled up in the most beautiful way, and Lisa’s heart rate rose with them. Suddenly there were no cars, no buildings, no people passing by. Only Marty and her slow, knowing smile as she whispered, “What else?”
“You like dashingly han
dsome maids of ill repute who rock a tuxedo jacket.”
Marty nodded slowly, her pupils dilating and her lips parting. Lisa’s fingers tingled with the urge to touch her, to caress her cheek. To kiss her. The urge struck so sudden and strong, it took a couple more seconds for the knowledge that she could actually do it to materialize.
She could kiss Marty. Right here, on the sidewalk, in the light of day, with nary a drop of wine in their systems. What kind of magic lasted so long past midnight?
She didn’t know what to do. Learning magic existed was not the same as learning how to wield it.
“What else do you know?” Marty asked.
“You…” The panic welled up quickly. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t feel this, and even though all the reasons were so hazy right now, they were there, and real. As real as the sweat beading on the back of her neck. “You like cake.”
“What?”
“Cake.” She rubbed her hand over her face and tried to take a deep breath before saying, “I know you like cake.”
Marty blinked a few times. “I do. I like cake.”
The absurdity of that statement was evident in her tone, but Lisa clung to the words anyway. “Then cake it is.”
“Cake? Why not.” Marty laughed again. At least it was a genuine laugh. That did a lot to help the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Lisa kicked herself as she opened the car door for Marty. She’d blown it. But damn it, she’d never felt such a sudden catch of desire and actually had it returned. She needed more time, more practice, but what she wouldn’t give to have that moment back.
Still, now she knew the possibility existed. She could at least be ready to act the next time it materialized.
“God,” she mumbled as she walked around to the driver’s side door, “please let there be a next time.”
*
Marty was still suffering from romantic whiplash when they pulled up in front of a place called Fairy Cakes, but the joy on Lisa’s face as she looked from her to the sign was hard not to catch.
“See”—Lisa nodded toward the bakery—“you like cakes. We have cakes. You should eat cakes.”
The logic was flawless, really, even if a little bit abrupt. And who argued with someone who wanted to give them cake, but dessert had never felt like such a consolation prize before. Back on the sidewalk she’d been almost certain Lisa would kiss her, and right or wrong she’d wanted her to. Now she just wanted to know what had made her decide not to.
By the time she got unbuckled and opened the door to the car, Lisa was at her side. “The snow’s packed a little high there.”
“A little?” Marty asked. “More like a foot and a half.”
“Haven’t you heard, everything’s bigger in Buffalo?”
“I thought that was Texas.”
“They’re overcompensating,” Lisa said, offering her hand to help her over the thick crust of snow between the street and the sidewalk. “Every time I see a guy in a big hat and a bigger truck, I think, ‘The lady doth protest too much.’”
“You’d probably get shot for that in parts of the state.”
“See, Buffalo is safer too. We spend our energy controlling the guns, not our women,” Lisa said, letting go of her hand only to hold the door for her.
“Wow, a chivalrous feminist,” Marty said, meaning to sound playful, but she clearly heard the hint of flirtation behind it, and from the glint in Lisa’s eyes, she had too.
Thankfully, as soon as they stepped fully inside, the smell of fresh-baked cake and a display case of cupcakes drenched in decadent frostings distracted them. Searching for a safer hunger than the one that had nipped at her outside, she perused the menu. From the classic red velvet or German chocolate to the playful pancakes and bacon or root-beer float, every option seemed better than the one before.
“What’s your poison?” Lisa asked, low and close behind her.
Goose bumps rose along Marty’s arms at the memories that tone sent cresting through her. What little focus she’d had vanished. She fought the urge to turn slowly toward Lisa and did her best to stave off the surge of warmth at the prospect of finding herself once again wrapped in her embrace.
“I, well, I just don’t know what the right answer is.”
“I don’t think there’s a right answer here,” Lisa said.
“I know that. I really do, but surely one option is better than the others.”
“Better for who? You? Me? Better for other people waiting for us to figure out what we want?”
Marty glanced around. There was no one else in line. She sighed heavily. “I feel like the cupcakes just got more important.”
“Metaphorically?” Lisa asked.
“Yes and no.”
“So important and complicated,” Lisa said. “That sounds like a barrel full of monkeys.”
“Well let’s not get too down about it, because, you know, cupcakes.”
“In that case, I want one with sprinkles,” Lisa said.
Marty nodded resolutely. “I want the salted caramel.”
“I want the candy bar one too.”
“Oh, if we’re admitting to wanting more than we should,” Marty jumped in, “I want the one with bacon on it.”
“Respect.” Lisa held out her fist, and Marty couldn’t help but laugh as she tapped it with her own.
Lisa had done it again. She took a totally loaded situation, acknowledged it, smiled through it, and moved on. It was an impressive skill most people would accept graciously, even gratefully, but Marty wondered where that skill had developed. She’d promised not to push or coach, but she’d started to notice a back-and-forth pattern in Lisa’s attention and her affections.
Lisa placed their order and had everything boxed up to go while Marty pondered her options. Life coach or not, she wanted to understand this woman, to really know her. Of course that option came with risks. Maybe she wouldn’t like what she found behind the social veneer. Who knew how many sweet memories she’d tarnish in the process. Then again, what if Lisa did open up, and underneath that class-clown exterior she was actually as amazing as Marty suspected? The problem then wouldn’t be how long she’d have to stay, but rather how she’d be able to force herself to leave.
“You ready now?” Lisa asked, pulling her back into the moment.
“Yes. I think I am.”
“Great. Where to next? Winter activities galore? Sledding? Ice skating? Curling?”
“Actually, I’d hoped for something a little more low-key.”
“Snowshoeing?”
Marty almost caved to Lisa’s exuberance, but something told her if she had any hope of cracking that playful shell, she needed to approach the situation head-on. “Actually, I’d really like to see your place. Would you mind taking me back there now?”
Lisa’s jaw dropped and a quick blush rushed to her face. “Yeah, home is good.”
The honest reaction left Marty feeling more than a little gratified, even if she hadn’t meant for the proposition to sound quite so risqué.
Chapter Five
Home is good? Seriously? A beautiful woman just asked to go back to her place and the best response she could come up with was Home is good? Damn. She needed to up her game, but women like Marty didn’t generally ask to go back to her place in the middle of the afternoon, or ever.
“Be cool, keep it together, act natural,” she muttered as she walked around the back of the car to get Marty’s suitcase out. She was making too big a deal of this. She already knew Marty would be staying with her tonight. Did it matter when they ended up there? “She asked to see your house, not to have sex.”
“What’s that?” Marty asked.
“Nothing.”
“Do you often talk to yourself?”
“Yeah,” Lisa admitted sheepishly. “I guess I do.”
“I find that endearing.”
Lisa smiled and grabbed Marty’s suitcase. “Endearing. Go figure. Most people would’ve gone with unsettling, or maybe
unstable.”
“I’m not like most people,” Marty said as she turned and climbed the front steps to the house.
Lisa watched her, particularly enjoying the sway of her hips. No, I don’t suppose you are.
“Wow, what a beautiful home,” Marty said as she walked through the front door.
Lisa let herself feel a little bit of pride. It was a nice place. Not a mansion by any standard, but the old Victorian had abundant charm. The open foyer still had the original hardwood floors and trim, and the hand-carved railing to the staircase was likely original to the house. “You want the full tour?”
“Of course.”
“Let’s take this upstairs and start there,” Lisa said, lifting the suitcase once more. At the top of the staircase she pointed toward a closed door. “That’s Elaine’s office. I don’t go in there, but I’m sure you can.”
“It’s okay, I’ve seen it on Skype.”
“Right.” Lisa fought a wave of nervousness. She didn’t need to be reminded that Marty regularly saw the one part of her home she considered to not really be hers anymore.
“And here’s Elaine and Joey’s room.” She opened a door across the hall and set the suitcase down with a little thud. “We can leave your stuff in here for tonight since they won’t be home until late tomorrow.”
The baby-blue room with white trim and white curtains housed a queen-sized bed covered in what appeared to be a handmade quilt. A small table stood on each side of the bed, and two dressers each topped with photographs were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. Clean and uncluttered, but not sterile either. Everything just fit, causing a little tug in Lisa’s chest.
“It’s lovely. So very them,” Marty said.
She had to agree. Calm, cheerful, and homey. She couldn’t help but wonder about the contrast to her own space.
“Yeah. When Elaine moved in, I worried she’d change all of Joey’s stuff, and in some ways she did, because all the hockey gear is gone, and so is the TV, but…you know.” Lisa shrugged, worried she’d been about to give away too much.
Sweet Hearts Page 16
