Jillian said, “Hold that thought.” She ran in the living room, turned on the television, and started flipping through channels faster than a fuel-injected stockcar at the Indy 500. “Hey, kids, I put SpongeBob on TV.” Of course. Wouldn’t want to give the kids any ideas.
She came back into the kitchen. “Do you want a glass of iced tea?”
“No, thanks,” Nicki managed, not wanting to tell her that she was grossed out by even thinking of consuming anything in her house, especially after the animal cracker paste. God knows what the kids did to anything there.
Jillian sat back down at the table and her voice dropped. “So, Nicki, you’re still having one-night stands? What’s up with that?”
“Carlos wasn’t a one-night stand.”
“Okay. Let’s nitpick. A two-night stand is so much better.”
Nicki stammered. “Well, yeah, it is. You get to know each other better.”
“Oh, come on, Nicki. You’re going to be thirty this year. Shouldn’t you—”
“Jesus, Jillian, I did not come over here to get lectured.”
Jillian sighed. “Sorry. I just worry about you.”
Nicki shrugged. “Fine.” She paused. “I forgive you for that. But I can’t forgive you bringing up my age.”
Jillian laughed. “You’re too much.” Her eyes darted to the living room to make sure the kids were properly enrapt, then turned back to Nicki. “So, anyway, tell me the rest of the story.”
Nicki took a deep breath. “Well, crap. I don’t know if I should now.”
“Ah, come on. I worry about you, but I trust you. I just feel like it’s my duty as a responsible friend to let you know I care.” Nicki stuck her tongue out at her. “Now where the heck is this going?”
“Well, the next day, Carlos left. I didn’t think anything of it, figuring Sean the master motorcycle mechanic got his bike back on the road without a hitch. But later that day I went by his garage. Do you remember that bike that was his pride and joy?”
“You mean the one he hardly drives but is always customizing?”
“Yeah, that one.” Jillian nodded. “Well, when I went over there, I noticed it was gone. So I asked him about it. And get this…he told me he sold it to Carlos because Carlos was in a big…effing hurry to get out of here.” Nicki saw Jillian was intent on her every word. “But believe me when I tell you that was so not true. He was enjoying the excuse to spend more time with me.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” She lowered her voice, even though she could hear SpongeBob’s giddy staccato laughter floating into the kitchen. “We said goodbye after the first night, because he was going to leave town. I figured that was the end of it. But he made a point of telling me he wanted to get together again since he was stuck in Winchester. I’m not saying it’s love or anything even resembling it, but we were…compatible, and he wanted to take advantage of that.”
“Okay. So then what?”
“So Sean was lying to me about selling it to Carlos because Carlos was supposedly in a big effing hurry. And so I grew a pair and confronted him about it.”
Jillian leaned over the table, getting closer to Nicki. “What did you say?”
“I said something like, ‘No, Carlos didn’t want to leave. You wanted Carlos to leave’.”
“Are you freaking kidding me? So what did he say to that?”
“Oh, a bunch of bullshit. Oh, sorry.” Jillian waved halfheartedly toward the living room—obviously, the kids were engrossed with SpongeBob SquarePants and wouldn’t notice Nicki’s outburst. “He asked why I was hanging out with Carlos, saying that Carlos was a gang member.”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t know if it’s actually true or not, and it doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah, I think it does. That could be dangerous.”
Nicki sighed. “Carlos was really sweet. And gentle. And a gentleman. If all gang members were like he was, the world would be a better place.”
Jillian grinned and rolled her eyes. Her voice was strained, rising in pitch. She couldn’t stand it anymore. “So then what?”
“So I told Sean I didn’t believe he sold his bike because he was worried about me, because he knows I can take care of myself.” Nicki paused for dramatic effect. It worked. Jillian’s eyebrows stood up and she was giving Nicki’s story the attention it deserved. Hell, she was practically ready to wring it out of Nicki. “And then he kissed me.”
“What?”
Nicki nodded. “Yeah, full on, tongue and all, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and holy shit. It was like eight friggin’ years just disappeared.”
“Holy crap. Is he still with Kayla?”
“Yeah, and she walked in right after. Talk about timing. But before that, he was saying, ‘That didn’t happen,’ like he hadn’t just had his tongue in my mouth. And I said, ‘Yeah, it did.’ But Kayla showed up, so we couldn’t talk about it. And that’s pretty much where I left it.” She took a deep breath. “So, expert of relationships, teller of the future, what do you think? Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” She glanced at the clock on Jillian’s wall. “And can you tell me in an hour or less, because Napoli awaits?”
Chapter Thirteen
NICKI SHOWERED WHEN she got home. She had to remove all the kid germs. It was worse than when she’d arrived at Jillian’s, because she actually hugged and kissed all three kids before she came home, and she left with a sticky film covering herself from head to toe. There was some weird grape stain on her shirt that she was pretty sure would never come out. Ick. Maybe Nathan should have hosed her down when she left, kind of a decontamination chamber in the front yard, instead of upon her arrival.
But she got what she’d gone there for. She had her friend’s perspective on the whole Sean thing, and it was what she’d needed. Nicki had actually started convincing herself that maybe she had a chance with Sean, but Jillian didn’t think so. Jillian figured it was just because Nicki—one of Sean’s closest friends—was getting all kinds of attention from this good-looking swarthy man right under Sean’s nose, and it set off his primeval macho defenses. “It’s thousands of years of evolution, Nicki. One alpha fights another for dominance over all the females. It’s not that he cares about you that way, Nick. It’s that he wants to be the rooster of us all. You’re part of his brood and Carlos was sniffing around.”
So, it completely sucked, but she could live with it.
And it got her to thinking that maybe too Sean was still struggling with his whole do-I-or-don’t-I-move-in-with-Kayla dilemma, and maybe that kiss was his one last-ditch attempt at asserting his singleness.
Or he just wanted to fuck with her head.
Yeah, that was probably it.
So she spent the next twenty-four hours de-escalating the situation in her head, so that next time she saw him, she could be good old Nicki, friend extraordinaire.
Yeah, right. Sunday afternoon, about two o’clock, Nicki pulled her car in front of her parents’ house. And in the end of the driveway sat Sean’s blue Ford truck. She felt her body pump up with adrenaline to rise to the challenge, and that’s when she realized she was still nowhere near ready to deal with Sean. But what was she gonna do? Not see her one and only brother? Didn’t think so. She had to re-find that pair of balls she grew and strap ‘em on. In front of the family, there was only one way to handle it: get along as best she could and pretend things were peachy. Ignore Sean as much as possible. Avoid eye contact when able. Deal with him the way he deserved later. Even if she was just one of his fictional hens and there was only friendship there, they needed to talk about it.
Why did mom even invite him? This was supposed to be a family thing.
But Sean was like family. Nicki knew that. Sean had been a part of Will’s life since Will’s age was in the single digits. So Will had probably invited Sean himself. So be it. It was what it was, and she had to deal with it.
So she walked up the sidewalk to mom and dad’s sunflower yellow house an
d rang the doorbell. As usual, though, she didn’t wait for them to answer the door. Instead, she popped in and yelled, “Just me,” then threw her purse on the bench in the entryway.
“Nini!” Will came from the living room and hugged his sister. When he’d learned to talk as a toddler, he’d said Nicki as Nini, and he’d never stopped calling her that. Nicki liked it because no one else had that name for her, just Will.
Every time Will came home, Nicki was surprised at how tall he was. He probably hadn’t grown in five years, but the visits were few and far between, and Nicki still thought of Will as her little brother. Not so little, though. He was a good six inches taller than she was. “Baby brother!” His dark brown hair was trimmed but still longish, giving his hair a messy can’t-be-bothered-with-my-hair look that she was sure some girls loved. He had cute dimples and dark brown eyes; his looks had hardly changed since he was seven. He would always be her baby brother. She wrapped her arms around him. “How the hell have you been, Mr. Smartypants?”
“Smartypants? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Would you prefer ‘smartest guy in the world’?”
He smiled. “Ah. You’ll need to meet my buddy Lex sometime. Blows me away, man.”
“Please. I can barely understand you half the time anymore.” He locked her head in the crook of his elbow, then turned so they could start the journey into the other room. “Mmm. Smells good. Mom outdid herself as always.”
“She put the roast on early. It was already halfway done when I got up this morning. She said that’s her secret to tender beef that falls apart at the touch of the fork tines: Cook it to friggin’ death.”
“Nice.” She breathed in the various smells wafting from the kitchen. “Nobody cooks like mom.” They started walking, but Nicki wasn’t sure where Will planned to go. To the left was the dining room, straight ahead was the kitchen, and to the right was the living room. Nicki, as a preemptive strike, bore full forward to head to the kitchen. Mom was sure to be there and Sean not. Sean was no doubt talking to dad in the living room. She was not ready.
Will didn’t fight her lead. “Hey, mom,” Nicki said, and hugged her mother. Carol Sosebee’s blonde hair was tucked up into not quite a bun but some elaborate updo that might have been appropriate at a formal occasion. But it highlighted the length of her neck and the curvature of her jaw. When her mother wore her hair up, Nicki could tell she was her mother’s daughter, even though she often joked that they must have adopted her. Even their light brown eyes looked nearly identical.
“Hi, honey.” She stepped back toward the stove. “It’s been a couple of weeks, and I’d swear you’ve lost weight.”
Mom always said that. She smiled. “Not a pound, mom. I swear.” She was wearing a hemp-green baby doll tee that said “Save the Planet” and short white shorts with white flip-flops. Maybe she needed to wear boy shirts stuffed with pillows and flared jeans. Then maybe mom would stop pestering her about her weight. Sheesh…if she’d really lost weight as often as mom thought she did, she’d weigh about twenty-three pounds by now. “So, what can I do to help?”
“Well, almost everything is ready. You and Will can take out all that stuff over there.” She pointed to the small table in the kitchen. On the table sat a beautiful green salad full of cherry tomatoes and cucumbers, two small pitchers with salad dressings, a large carafe of ice water with thin slices of lemon floating in it, and a bowl full of warm rolls. Nicki grabbed the salad and one of the pitchers and walked to the dining room.
The table was already set. She could tell how much her mother missed Will when she saw the room. She was using her best china, real silverware, and linen tablecloths and napkins. In the center of the table was a vase full of various flowers professionally arranged. Nicki had no idea what any of them were (except for the baby’s breath), but they were colorful and smelled sweet but not overpowering. Will followed with an armful that he placed on the table. “Mom really outdid herself, huh, isn’t that what you said?”
“Yeah, overboard.” She started walking back to the kitchen but turned around and smiled. “She really misses you.”
He grinned, only a step behind her. “Yeah, she said she misses you too because you never visit.”
Ouch. It was true, though. She tried to visit every two or three weeks, but it was hard. Besides being pretty busy, she was often lectured about her clothes, her habits, her jobs (and seeming slackeritis), her—ahem—expressive use of language, her choice of friends, her choice of man friends and frequency thereof, her refusal to go to church, and on and on and on. But she wasn’t going to lay all that on Will. She chuckled. “I visit when you’re here. You’ll just have to come home more often.”
He smiled as they returned to the kitchen. Mom had since put more food on the table to be carried to the dining room—a large bowl of green beans and another piled high with fluffy mashed potatoes. Nicki felt her stomach grumble. She hadn’t eaten yet. As she picked up the bowl of mashed potatoes, she realized she hadn’t even heard her dad and Sean.
When Will and Nicki returned to the kitchen yet again, mom said, “Will, honey, I need to get this roast on the platter. Can you tilt the pan and I’ll get it out?” He obliged and came over to the stove to help her. “Nicki, would you get your father and Sean and ask them to wash up?”
Shit. Just her luck. “Yeah, if I knew where they were.”
Will grinned. “They’re in the backyard. Dad got a riding lawnmower and is showing it off. He’s just like Tim Allen in Home Improvement.”
Nicki laughed and did her best imitation of Tim Allen’s character. In a deep voice she said, “Ah…needs more power!” Will shook his head, smiling, and Nicki walked to the door at the end of the kitchen. As she got closer, she saw through the door that—on the right side of the yard—dad certainly was showing Sean his shiny new red lawnmower. Suck it up, Nicki. She walked out the door and was blasted by the warm air. She hadn’t realized how cool it was inside until she came back out.
She gritted her jaw. Sean’s back was to her, but he looked good as always. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a newer pair of blue jeans. His hair, not contained by his usual work do-rag, was slicked back. God, his hair always looked so hot like that. No way could she stand being around him today. Well, she could just shout from the door, right? Or maybe she could behave and act like an adult. She did need to give her dad a hug after all. Then maybe she could feign a stomach bug and go home. She used to be an actress in high school, so surely she could pull that off.
She took a deep breath and walked toward them. Dad looked up from the lawnmower where he’d been showing Sean some feature that probably adjusted the blades an eighth of an inch at a time. “There’s my Nicki girl.” He held open his arms. Nicki might have looked like her mom, but Will was the spitting image of his dad—dark hair and eyes and way tall, so when Nicki hugged him, her head nestled his chest. Dad’s hair was getting a little salt in it, but the dark hair still overpowered the light.
“Hi, dad.” True test next. She glanced over—quickly, but not too fast, and then back to dad. “Sean.” Cool but not cold. Whew. She did it. Dad pulled her in a close embrace. She could smell his usual Old Spice. She loved that smell. “Mom sent me out to tell you guys to wash up for lunch.”
“Good. I’m hungry.” He paused. “I just need to go move the water on the roses. Tell your mom I’ll be right in.”
Thanks, dad. That meant that she and Sean were alone to walk in together. Dad started heading around to the side of the house. She started walking toward the back door—not too fast, because she didn’t want the need to escape to be so obvious. Sean, right behind her said, “What? No hug for me?”
For some reason, that hit her all kinds of wrong. She stopped in her tracks and took a deep breath. She had no idea what words were going to spew out of her mouth, but something was coming and there was no stopping it. She turned to her side where Sean now stood. She managed to make eye contact but she kept her voice low so no one else co
uld hear, even though she talked quickly. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you French me again?” She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Oh, wait. I forgot that never happened. Never mind. Sorry.” And before he could retort, she opened the back door and walked inside.
Chapter Fourteen
TALK ABOUT AWKWARD. Sean had taken the hint and wasn’t forcing Nicki to engage in conversation. She knew what she’d done outside was immature, but what was he thinking? That she really could forget it? The problem was that Nicki just didn’t know how to handle her feelings. If he was an ex-boyfriend, it would be no problem to burn a bridge, but Sean was a friend that she wanted to keep (and maybe the future love of her life); she just wasn’t ready to deal civilly with him right now. The last time they’d been face to face he’d literally been in her face, and it was hard to pretend that hadn’t happened. But snapping at him had worked. His expression outside had changed from amused to abashed (if she was reading him right) in short order, and she’d walked inside so fast, she didn’t know what else he could have been thinking.
Worse yet, mom and dad were at both ends of the table as usual, but Will had insisted that Nicki not sit next to him as she’d wished, because he wanted to face her. That’s why he wanted Sean on the other side of the table as well. So Nicki and Sean were sitting right next to each other. Close enough that the ceiling fan kept blowing the scent of his aftershave her way. If she hadn’t been so pissed at him (and she hadn’t realized until a few minutes ago just how angry she was), she would have loved it.
She wondered why Sean hadn’t brought Kayla along with him, and then realized that his invitation to dinner was no doubt as last minute as hers had been. Kayla might have had other plans. Just as well, she thought. Kayla was a nice girl, but there was no substance to her. If Will had wanted to talk substance, Kayla probably couldn’t have kept up.
Got the Life (A Nicki Sosebee Novel) Page 7
