“Oh, you must be starving,” Ashley cooed while keeping her eyes on Hailey, who narrowed her eyes at Ashley’s hand on my arm. “I should get you some food.”
If I didn’t create a distraction, Ashley’s girl senses would start tingling and she’d ask questions I didn’t want to answer. An awkward silence fell over the group.
“Sounds like a great idea. Why don’t you go make Tom a plate?” Diane said, her eyes bouncing between Ashley and Hailey.
Ashley was stuck. She’d suggested getting me food. With a sigh and a sidelong glance at Hailey, she plastered on a smile and said, “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
Inside, I observed her speaking with my mother, who then glanced at me and headed into the dining room. I probably had five minutes before she returned.
“I gotta take a piss. While I’m gone, anyone need a beer?” I took the long away around, avoiding the crowd, and went upstairs to the hall bathroom.
Someone knocked three times.
“Occupied,” I yelled, turning on the faucet to wash my hands.
They knocked again.
“Hold on a minute.” Wiping my hands on one of the fancy guest towels, I checked out my appearance in the mirror. I had dark circles under my eyes and my beard had grown scruffy, but damn, I looked handsome in a suit.
Another knock, and I scowled. “Give a person a minute to . . .” I swung open the door, “piss.”
Ashley stood there, smiling. “Water sports have never been my thing.” She gently pushed me further into the bathroom.
“Hey, Ashley.” I smiled and plotted how to extract myself from the bathroom and this situation. She’d always been cool, but this felt like an ambush.
Her hand rested on the lapels of my suit jacket. “You never wear a suit.”
“I know.”
“You look good, Tom. Really good.”
I gently grabbed her arms in order to switch our positions, placing myself closer to the door and freedom.
“Where are you going? I wanted to make sure you’re okay. Everyone loved Pops. I’m here if you need a shoulder to cry on. That’s all I’m saying.”
My hand found the knob behind me and turned it. “Hey, let’s not do this now.” Thoughts and words spun through my mind as I attempted to escape with both our dignities intact. “I like you, Ashley, but my head’s in a weird space now. And I think I realized last month as much fun as we’ve had in the past, maybe we’re better off as more casual friends.”
Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. Combined with her long, red curls, her expression personified the term “seeing red.” “Are you seeing that Hailey chick?”
My foot caught in the door as I attempted to swing it open. “Why would you ask about her?”
“She’s always hanging around you. Halloween and now showing up for your grandfather’s funeral.”
“Right. And she’s Lori’s best friend. Maybe that explains it? Stop with the jealousy and suspicion. It doesn’t suit you.”
Leaving her standing there, I bounded down the stairs and smack into Hailey and Diane. Both their eyes were fixed to a spot above me on the landing. Reluctantly, I turned to see Ashley fixing her hair and wiping her mouth. The implications of her actions were evident on both Hailey and Diane’s faces.
I closed my eyes and inhaled, my hands balling into fists by my sides. “It’s not what it seems,” I ground out through clenched teeth.
Diane rolled her eyes while Hailey shook her head.
Not now, I wasn’t doing this drama now. I brushed past them and out into the cold air of the dark winter afternoon. Striding across the lawn, I found myself on the porch of my grandparents’ little house. The old wooden swing called to me and I sat, pushing myself with my legs. From here I could see cars pull down the long driveway as guests left. When the number of cars on the lawn and circle drive petered down to less than a handful, I slowly strolled back to the main house.
Inside, my mother hovered over a team of women helping to clean the kitchen. I picked a sandwich off a tray and shoved half of it in my mouth. I found my father, sisters, and Gramma in the family room.
I stole a handful of chips from a bowl on the side table and settled on the floor next to the fireplace. An easy conversation continued around me while I ate. No one asked me questions or commented on my absence.
A short while later, Gramma yawned and everyone fussed over her. I offered to walk her home. We set off across the wide lawn, her arm tucked in mine. Her head reached only as high as my bicep but her grip belied her strength.
“Pops would have enjoyed today. It’s always a shame we can’t attend our own funerals to hear all of the nice things people have to say about us. When we’re alive we might get told how pretty our hair is or how nice our children are, but we typically only hear the bad things, the gossip and the criticism.”
I nodded and patted her arm. “He would have been annoyed with everyone eating all his food and stomping around his house, snooping.”
“I swear some of those people I met for the first time today.” Her laughter brightened the darkness. “A couple of men even gave me their business cards. Can you imagine? At a funeral? My gosh, I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
I didn’t like the sound of that at all. “Did you know any of them? Recognize them?”
“No, I don’t think so. Although one of the men seemed familiar. Very nice fellow. I think he grew up here.”
I let the subject drop. Maybe someone else saw the exchange and could put names to the suits.
We arrived at her porch, and once she had the door open and the lights on, I stepped inside to kiss her cheek goodnight.
A little framed sampler needlepoint-stitch-thing hung next to the door. I peered at the familiar frame, reading the words for the first time: “A chuisle mo chroí.”
“The pulse of my heart,” I translated the familiar words of Hailey’s tattoo.
“I’d always thought it meant ‘my love.’ I made it for your grandfather when we were newlyweds.”
My love. Such sentimental words for a tomboy like Hailey. Hidden near her heart, over her lungs, I’d missed the deeper meaning.
“It’s a bit of sentimental stitching, but Clifford insisted it was the best present he’d ever received.”
I kissed her cheek goodnight. “He loved you more than words.”
She held my hand to her skin for a moment. “Don’t feel too sorry for your old Gramma. Clifford and I had a long life together, and all this is the outcome of our love.” She patted my cheek. “I’ll be okay.”
I knew she would be. The question was, would I?
THE DAY AFTER the funeral, I cornered Hailey in the break room. She stood at the coffee pot, pouring sugar into her mug.
“That’s a lot of sugar for someone so sweet.” Tom Cat’s signature smile followed my over the top cheesy words. I needed to clarify something with her and wanted her on my side before I started talking.
“That’s a lot of cheese you’re spreading.” She poured coffee into her cup of sugar and stirred before adding cream and stirring some more. “Can I help you?” Her words hung between us like icicles.
I scratched my scruffy cheek. “Yeah. I mean, no. You can’t help me, but I wanted to clear something up from yesterday.”
She leaned a hip against the counter and rolled her hand for me to continue. Today’s outfit included a button down top and I could see the outline of her small breasts. Her nipples pushed against the fabric and I wondered if she was wearing a bra. Her throat clearing drew my eyes up to her face.
“Right, sorry.” I gave her a sheepish grin. “I think you might have interpreted something wrong yesterday, and it’s important you don’t think what you think you saw is what you saw. Because it’s not.”
The skin between her brows creased in confusion.
“I mean, you weren’t imagining things, but sometimes things look different than the thing they really are.”
“Spit it out.” Her arms cr
ossed over her chest.
“Nothing happened with Ashley in the bathroom.”
“So you weren’t in the upstairs bathroom together?”
“No. I mean, yes, we were, but only because I was exiting when she was arriving, and we chatted for a minute.”
“With her shirt open?”
“I swear everything remained buttoned and no clothes came off during our very, very brief talk.”
She nodded. “It seemed like a lot more than a chat.”
“I think that’s exactly what Ashley wanted.”
“What is she to you?” She sipped her sugar-coffee.
“Nothing. I mean, she’s a friend, but she’s not like a girlfriend. You know me, I don’t really do the dating and girlfriend thing.”
She paused with her mug near her mouth, then set it on the counter. “Right. Thanks for the reminder.” Her lips lifted in an effort to smile, but her eyes remained blank.
“Nothing happened yesterday.”
“Yes, you said so already.” She exhaled long and slow. “Honestly, it’s none of my business what you do or who you see. This,” she gestured between us, “has been fun.”
I nodded in agreement. “More than fun. You’ve been a great friend this past week.”
“Friend. Right.” She nodded and did her weird smile thing again.
“So we’re good?”
“Great. We’re great.” She picked up her mug along with her files. “Merry Christmas, Tom. I know it’ll be tough for your family, but you have them, and your friends to get you through it.”
Feeling much better about things between us now that I’d cleared up yesterday, I bumped her shoulder with my fist. “Thanks. You too. Enjoy the time off from this place.”
I walked out of the break room smiling. It had been a really shitty week, but at least Hailey was cool.
Christmas sucked.
Dad played Santa, filling Pops’ suit with couch cushions and a layer of bubble wrap. When the kids sat on his lap, he popped and crinkled. The littlest nieces and nephews tugged at his fake white beard. They knew something wasn’t quite right about Santa this year.
Burnt dinner rolls, overcooked, leathery roast beef, and dried-out mashed potatoes rounded out a mostly silent Christmas dinner. Mostly silent because Noah spent the majority of it screaming his tiny head off. How did lungs so small hold enough air to create a noise that loud and piercing?
Worst of all, my presents included socks. Knit by my mother, they were green and blue striped. What was she thinking?
When everyone else ran to the window in awe over the Christmas snow, a rarity on the island, I snuck out and headed home.
I lit the wood stove and put my feet up on the coffee table. A couple of fingers of Jack and the silence of the falling snow were the perfect companions for my mood. A small pine cone made of spoon-heads sat on the table. There hadn’t been a card when I found it on my doormat, but there didn’t need to be. I knew it was from Hailey.
I texted her to say thanks and wish her a merry Christmas. I thought about asking her over. I tapped my fingers on the phone’s screen, debating hooking up on Christmas. Something about Santa and baby Jesus made it feel wrong. There were probably a handful of other women who wouldn’t think twice about ditching their families to come over for some fun, but none of them appealed to me. Three years ago, I picked up a woman in a Target parking lot on Christmas Eve. A couple of spiked egg-nogs and a blow job later, we went our own ways to finish our last minute shopping. She’d been wearing a Santa hat. Merry Christmas to me.
I tossed the phone on the table and swallowed the last of my drink. I had to be careful with Hailey. After the bathroom incident with Ashley, Hailey had been cold and distant with me, which told me one thing: she was getting attached. Jealousy was the first indication feelings were developing. And I’d learned long ago, feelings led to trouble, and must be avoided at whatever cost.
Satisfied I’d made the right decision, I flipped on the TV to watch yet another round of Elf and Bad Santa.
WHO THE FUCK poured sand in my mouth? I struggled to form enough saliva to swallow, and when I did, the effort made my head throb above my left eye. A vice squeezed my temples, but that was nothing compared to the thirst. When was the last time I had any water? A week? A month?
Shit.
I opened one eye to see if maybe I’d been smart enough to get a glass of water last night before coming to bed.
Only I wasn’t in my bed. Or any bed. It felt like I was on a couch.
My other eye refused to open, so I peered up at the ceiling, and tried to figure out where I was. The plain white plaster gave no clues. I rolled my one good eye to the right and saw the blurry outline of a fireplace. A familiar plaid caught my eye and I held up the blankets covering me.
Hailey’s. I was at Hailey’s.
How?
I forced open the other eye and blinked in the bright light flooding through the windows. I rubbed my hands over my eyes and down along my beard.
This could not be good.
Wait, was I wearing pants?
I assessed and concluded I was. Okay, so we probably didn’t have sex. I’d be in her bed if we had, right?
Where was she?
I rolled to face the cushions, and used my arm to pull myself up to see the other side of the room.
Nothing out of the ordinary, except a large glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen sat on the island.
No Hailey.
Unfocused memories of last night struggled to the surface of my hangover.
Last night, I’d sat on a stool in the corner of the Dog House with John and Diane. Third wheel? Try tricycle. Being with a couple sounded like torture for New Year’s Eve, but it worked out great for my new plan. Diane knew a lot of women on the island through her work. Any time one of them would come over to say hi, I’d flashed my dimples and offered them a kiss for the new year. According to John, I resembled a clown or a drag queen with all the lipstick stains on my lips and cheeks. Didn’t bother me. The more the merrier.
A brunette leaned against my hip while she chatted to Diane. Nice tits, nice ass, and a voice that could strip paint, or barnacles off a boat. Nothing soft or sultry about this voice.
I swatted her ass to get her to move. “I’ll be right back.”
Squeezing through the crowd, I pushed my way to the men’s room. I caught my reflection in the ancient mirror over the sink. John was right. I had lipstick marks all over my mouth, cheeks, and neck, including one on the tip of my nose, making me look like a red-nosed reindeer. I half-ass rubbed them off with paper towel, laughing at how ridiculous I appeared.
In the dark hall, bodies packed together in a congested mess. I went with the flow to the back because it was easier than trying to squeeze around a cluster of women in line for the ladies.’ Hands tugged at my arms and familiar female voices called my name. The lights were too low to pick out faces, and I might have been past the point of sobriety to remember names. I let myself be led closer to the dance floor. Pulsing rhythms and a steady drum beat had women all around grinding and bumping hips with each other or whoever stood close enough. More hands trailed down my body and grabbed my ass. I spun around, but my admirer had disappeared.
Normally, I didn’t dance, but tonight I made an exception. This wasn’t dancing, this was foreplay standing up. Someone handed me a flask. When the cinnamon heat hit my throat, I sputtered and had to lean over to keep from losing it on the floor. I stood up and the room tilted, lights flashing and spinning. Or maybe I was spinning. I couldn’t be sure.
If I closed my eyes I might feel better—no, that was a bad idea. Very bad idea. I needed fresh air. The room smelled of stale beer and warm bodies. I shoved and pushed my way through the crowd as the band stopped playing to start the countdown. A female voice near the door asked me where I was going and who was she going to kiss at the stroke of twelve. I gave her a weak smile and leaned against the door to open it, tumbling over the threshold, and nearly landin
g on my ass. The deck railing caught me and I held on while I tried to get my head on straight.
Inside, the crowd shouted “Seven, six, five, four . . .”
Fireworks exploded over Camano Island across Saratoga Passage, illuminating the clear sky.
“ . . . three, two, one!”
A roar of noisemakers and cheers reverberated the windows separating me from the party.
The noise grew louder when the brunette from earlier opened the door.
“There you are. I never got my kiss.” She swayed on her heels in my direction.
“No? That’s a shame, isn’t it?” I smirked exactly how I knew she wanted it.
She tasted of cinnamon and desperation. Loneliness filled my mouth with a bitter flavor.
Wrong brown hair. Wrong lips.
Wrong woman.
I needed to get out of here. There was someplace else I should have been tonight and someone else I should have been kissing at midnight.
I placed my hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away. She slowly opened her eyes and blinked at me.
“Can you give me a ride?” I asked.
“Sure. We could go to my place.” She ducked her chin and attempted a coy expression. The lust in her eyes and her hand near my belt buckle ruined any chance she had at playing hard to get.
“Maybe another time? I’m not feeling well and I need to go home.”
“Want me to take care of you? I did a year of nursing school.” She tried to touch my forehead with the back of her hand, but I caught it and held her wrist.
“Not sick. Just too much to drink. Can’t drive.”
“Where are your friends? Want me to get them?” She dropped the drunk girl act. Her voice had switched from seductress to concerned, nice girl.
“I don’t want to ruin their night. Do you mind? It’s up the road at Goss Lake.”
In my drunken haze, I managed to give her directions to the cedar-lined driveway, but told her to drop me off at the road. Bad idea. I stumbled and tripped on a root, landing on my side. I lay there, staring up at the stars peeking through the tall trees. I might have fallen asleep for a minute or two, then jolted awake. Clambering to my feet, I stuck to the middle of the gravel path until I arrived at the house.
Wingmen (Modern Love Story #2, 4, & bonus) Page 38
