Flirting with Forever

by Cara Bastone

  He stood, without moving, in the same spot. His hands were in his pockets, his eyes on hers, his mouth frowning, his eyebrows pushed down and mean.

  “Well,” Mary said as she stamped her foot. “It might be easier to forgive you if you hadn’t just seen me strike out like that.”

  John smirked, a grunt coming out of him that might have passed for a laugh in another dimension. “Yeah. That was...hard to watch.”

  Mary glowered at him. “It’s not my fault he was married.”

  “No. It wasn’t.”

  “And honestly, I consider it a win that I didn’t find out he was married after I’d gone on a date with him. I can’t tell you how many times that has happened to me.” She turned and continued to set the vases around her shop, positioning them this way and that until they were perfect. “Apology accepted, by the way.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  The bell to the shop jingled and in walked Estrella. She and her son exchanged eye contact, communicating silently, and Mary gathered that John was forgiven in his mother’s eyes.

  “Estrella, I’m glad you’re back. I wasn’t sure how to display the pots you brought over yesterday.”

  Estrella was one of the artisans that Mary featured in her shop, which was how they’d first become friends a few years ago. The woman was a true creative. She’d started out with these intricately embroidered throw pillows that had immediately triggered Mary’s drool reflex the moment she’d first seen them. From there, Estrella had started into her tapestries phase, which rolled into the stained-glass windows phase, and now they were here, with these lovely pots that Estrella threw in a ceramics studio and glazed to perfection. Mary couldn’t have loved them more. And she couldn’t have loved Estrella more either.

  The woman, unlike some of Mary’s other artisans, was even-tempered and realistic. If Mary couldn’t sell some of her pieces, Estrella traded them out, her pride uninjured. Mary deeply valued their professional relationship, but nowhere near as much as their personal one. It was almost once a week that Estrella stopped by for a lunch with Mary or just a quick chat. It was a miracle that she’d known Mary for so long before she’d tried to set her up with John. Mary had been weighted down with a full-body dread to tell Estrella that it hadn’t worked out between them. She didn’t want anything to damage her relationship with her friend. Apparently, though, it hadn’t caused too much damage, considering that Estrella was smiling as she marched across the floor and gave Mary a little side-hug.

  “You could display them over there, with the other pots.” Estrella pointed.

  “Never!” The idea was absurd to Mary. “Those pots are nothing compared to yours. No. I want yours prominently displayed, but I was wondering what you thought about me buying some plants to stick into some of them, to give the customer an idea on how to use them practically. I could put one or two in the front window and then the rest... Oh, I’ll have to unpack them and figure it out as I go.”

  “Are they in the storeroom?” Estrella asked.

  “Mmm-hmm. In the same box you brought them over in.”

  “John,” Estrella ordered. “The box has blue painter’s tape on it. Bring it out here, will you?”

  Moments later, the women were unpacking Estrella’s pots from the packing material and fussing with their placement around the shop. Kylie returned with a sack of tacos in one hand, adeptly realized that they were not taking a lunch break and took over dealing with any customers that came in while Mary and Estrella finished setting up the displays.

  John dutifully followed his mother’s directions on where to put this and that, though he said next to nothing and scowled coldly the entire time. When half an hour had passed, and the task was over, he stood at the far wall, his hands in his pockets, looking like he’d gladly walk through the gateway to Lucifer’s private torture chamber if it meant getting the hell out of here.

  Some of the friendly glow Mary had started to feel in the wake of his apology faded. Did he have to be so unpleasant? He was like a sinkhole for good feeling.

  “Are you working next Saturday?” Estrella asked Mary.

  “Hmm? Oh. Always.”

  “Not in the afternoon, though,” Kylie called. “Right? I thought I was overlapping with Caleb next Saturday.”

  “Oh. Right. I should be out of here around two o’clock if you wanted to come by earlier than that, Estrella. Will you be bringing more of your work or is it a social call?”

  “Neither,” Estrella said, giving her a mischievous grin.

  “Ma.” John’s tone was part warning, part admonishment, his voice gravelly from not having spoken in so long. He seemed to know exactly what his mother was up to and didn’t appear to approve one bit.

  Estrella ignored him. “My block has a party this time in June every year. You should come. There’s plenty of our neighbors there you could meet.”

  “Oh.” Mary loved parties, she always had. Especially outdoor ones in the summer.

  “She doesn’t want to come to the block party, Ma,” John groused. That aggressive V between his brows was back.

  Well, if Mary hadn’t wanted to go to the party, she certainly did now, if not just to prove Frowny McIceberg wrong. “Sounds fun. Is it a potluck? Should I bring anything?”

  “Maybe a cake?” Estrella leaned in, ostensibly to cut John out of the conversation. “And dress up a little. There’s a few nice boys there that I’d like for you to meet.”

  Mary held her smile in place, because she loved Estrella so dearly. But she was simply mortified to have the topic of dating brought up in front of John. Apparently the universe felt that Married James hadn’t been punishment enough. “You got it,” Mary said with a wink she hoped covered her true feelings on the matter. “I could be there around three thirty?”

  “Perfect.” Estrella stopped just long enough to kiss Kylie on the cheek. “Goodbye, my loves.” She waved at both of them, grabbed John by the elbow again and tugged him out of the shop.

  “Bye!” Mary called, shaking her head when she realized that John didn’t even look back as he left the shop. He certainly didn’t say goodbye.

  CHAPTER THREE

  MARY FOLLOWED ESTRELLA’S directions and dressed up for the block party. It was a perfect June day, warm in the sun, cool in the shade, with just enough of a breeze to keep the sweat from sticking. Mary wore a cap-sleeve floaty blue dress with yellow suns stitched onto the hem and her favorite pair of high-heeled boots. Once Caleb arrived at her shop to relieve her, she ducked into the back room and dabbed on some pink lipstick and a little mascara. Her hair had been a bit bashful that morning, so she’d straightened it and let it fall down her back.

  Estrella had promised there’d be some cuties at the party and the thought made Mary’s stomach flip. She liked cuties. She liked flirting. She liked men. She liked parties. Yeehaw.

  She stopped at a bakery three blocks down and picked up a cake, then emerged from the train twenty minutes later in Estrella’s neighborhood. As well as they knew one another, Mary had never been to Estrella’s house before. She lived on a cute little block of Crown Heights, too far east to have been completely overrun by gentrifiers as of yet. The huge green oak trees touched hands where they loomed over the street, and one corner sported a Japanese cherry blossom tree, a few weeks past its May explosion of color but still gorgeous.

  Estrella’s block was cordoned off with blue wooden sawhorses warning cars away but inviting anyone who wanted to party. There were about a hundred more people there than Mary had expected. One end of the block was inundated with children, all vying for a turn on the ten-foot-wide trampoline that had been dragged outside. The other end of the block was muzzy with barbecue smoke. In the middle sat four tables pushed together with mountains of food. Mary slipped her cake onto the dessert table and immediately lost track of which one she’d brought.

  “Mary!” And then there was Estrella
, beaming up at Mary and grabbing her by both hands. “You’re a vision. Come. You can stow your purse at my place.”

  Estrella, practically dragging Mary down the block, led her up a stoop onto the garden level of a blond brick town house, a little shabby but in a friendly way. Estrella kept a scattered assortment of flowers in a window box under one window, and a snow shovel, never put away from the wintertime, leaned up against the mailboxes in the front vestibule. Estrella’s apartment was dim from a lack of natural light, but somehow still cheery. Colorful paintings and photographs covered all the walls, and a long, horrible rug led down the front hallway, instantly charming Mary. The kitchen was as snug as the bedrooms they passed, but it had flowers in the window and rice in colorful glass jars.

  “I love your space,” Mary said, and meant it.

  “I hardly notice it anymore,” Estrella replied. “I’ve been here almost thirty years. Your purse will be safe there. Come along.”

  Estrella pulled Mary back out onto the street.

  “Ooh, punch.” Mary stopped and got herself a glass, which was surprisingly flavored like white grape, even though it was a burnished pink.

  “I have the most wonderful man for you to meet,” Estrella said. “His name is Samuel. He’s in computers or something, I never know. And he’s quite handsome.” She pointed across the block toward a shorter man with dark skin who was indeed quite handsome. “I’ve known him since he was in diapers. He’s like a nephew to me. I’ll get him.”

  And then Mary was alone, sipping her punch and looking around, watching three teenage girls holding hands in a chain and weaving through the crowd, watching a group of older women reclined in deck chairs in the sun, watching men elbow one another out of the way at the grill, each one reaching for the spatula. She got a funny tingle between her shoulders and knew she was being watched as well. She turned and halfway down the block was John, holding a beer and scowling at her. He ducked his head in hello and she did the same. Her eyes traced down John’s form, and she almost rolled them. Though he’d foregone the tie, he wore a white dress shirt, black trousers and the ever-present wingtips.

  What a party animal.

  “Mary, this is Samuel. Samuel, Mary.”

  Mary turned in time to watch as Estrella two-hand shoved the shy-looking Samuel forward. Mary had to grab his elbow to help brace him.

  “I’ll leave you two alone!” Estrella toodled her fingers and was gone.

  “Hi,” Mary said with a laugh. “Estrella’s quite...enthusiastic.”

  Samuel grinned at her. “That’s one way to describe her.”

  He had round, handsome features, a clean shave and a hugely warm smile. Mary liked him instantly. “So. Estrella tells me she’s known you since you were in diapers. Though I’ve always thought that was a strange way of explaining how long you’ve known someone.”

  His eyebrows quirked, apparently deciding to leave her last comment alone. “Yeah, I grew up down the block from John and Estrella. In that red town house down there.”

  “It seems like everyone knows each other on this block.”

  “Oh, yeah. One big family.”

  Mary thought she detected just a trace of sarcasm in his tone but couldn’t think of how to ask about it. “Think you’ll play any of the games?” Mary asked, nodding her head over to where little girls were challenging one another in double Dutch, a basketball hoop was set up, and three full-grown men were each attempting to blow the largest soap bubble they possibly could.

  “You happen to be standing next to the Lincoln Place hopscotch champ seven years running.” Samuel blew on his fingernails and shined them on his T-shirt.

  Mary laughed at the teasing glint in his eyes. “I wasn’t aware I was in the presence of greatness.”

  “Sammy,” a distinct voice said from behind her. “Your aunt is looking for you. She said your wife is on the phone.”

  Samuel grimaced, glancing quickly at Mary and then away. “Ex, John. Ex-wife.”

  “Oh, is it official now?” John asked blandly, taking a sip of the beer he held in his hand as he came to stand next to Mary. He let his cold eyes wander the crowd.

  “Mary, I’ll be right back,” Samuel said, taking a few steps backward. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

  Mary sighed as she watched him disappear into the crowd. “Is his wife really on the phone?” she asked John, one eyebrow raised.

  John shrugged, unrepentant, bored. “You mentioned that you had a problem with married guys shooting their shot with you. I thought I’d help you out.”

  Mary was quiet as she stood shoulder to shoulder with John, watching two kids with water guns chase each other down the street, their mothers hollering after them. The line for the buffet table was three people wide and five sidewalk squares long. Loud, tinny music played from speakers jammed against the screen of someone’s open windows. Across the way, Estrella laughed and leaned her head onto the shoulder of a humongous redheaded man.

  Mary’s grape punch was down to just pointy shards of melting ice. She stared into the bottom of her glass. She liked going to parties by herself. Of course, she’d never had a problem with that. But she really, really liked going to a party with a date. Maybe it made her old-fashioned, but she liked having someone who cared about whether or not her drink was full.

  “So,” John said, reminding her that he still stood on the curb next to her. “You’re, like, really desperate for dates or something?”

  “Okay, then,” Mary said crisply, turning on her heel and marching away from John. A white sheet of blank disbelief had fallen over her, snuffing out her party glow. What an ass.

  “Wait! Mary. Shit. I didn’t mean—That was a terrible thing to—Please wait.” Two heavy fingers tapped roughly at her shoulder. He appeared at her side, palms out, fingers looped around his beer bottle. “I’m an idiot.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a complete sinkhole for happiness? Where good feelings go to die? Desperate?” she quoted him with a scowl. “Being thirty-seven and flirting with a good-looking man at a party does not make me desperate. Wanting to meet someone does not make me desperate. Jeez! You’re like the human manifestation of the sad trombone sound.”

  John scowled at her, his bright eyes shadowed by the pull of his brow. “To answer your question, yes, people have told me that before. Never quite so...creatively. But yes, I’ve been known to bring the mood down.”

  “It’s annoying.” She scowled at him.

  “Yes,” he agreed immediately. “It really is.”

  “Mary,” Estrella said, huffing and puffing a little, as if she’d stridden quickly across the party. “Where’d Samuel go?”

  “Ma,” John cut in. “Sammy? Really? You’re setting her up with Sammy? He’s not even divorced yet.”

  If looks could have turned someone back into a nine-year-old boy and sent him to his room, the mug that Estrella was shooting at John certainly would have done it. “Samuel is a good boy. But fine. He wasn’t your taste, Mary? There’s more. Come with me.”

  Estrella tugged on Mary’s elbow.

  John got in his mother’s way. “Who’s next in the lineup?”

  “None of your business.”

  John followed his mother’s gaze and made a sound of disbelief. “Jonah? Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ma!”

  “Estrella, I’m going to run to the bathroom. Be right back!” Mary tried to shoot both of them a bright smile, but she had the feeling that it might have come off a little canned. She appreciated what Estrella was doing, she really did. But setups were awkward enough without them being loud and confrontational and causing half of a block party to crane their heads to stare at the new girl.

  Mary ducked back into Estrella’s house, found the bathroom and washed her hands. She’d go back out there, get something to eat, chat with some people and head home. She didn’t have to overthi
nk this.

  She walked back through the house and found John sitting on the front steps to his mother’s house, passing his beer back and forth between his hands.

  “Hi.”

  He looked up at her, rising quickly. Mary realized that due to some optical illusion, sans his perfectly knotted tie, he looked both taller and wider. Like his open collar and the triangle of gold skin it revealed had allowed his body to stretch out to its true size. “My mother has terrible taste in men.”

  Mary couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m starting to learn that.”

  “Besides Cormac, really, just terrible.”

  “Who’s Cormac?”

  For the first time since she’d met John, his face truly softened. It was still a very far cry from friendly, but some of the ice had defrosted. He nodded his head across the block party toward the large redheaded man that Estrella had been leaning against before. “My mother’s live-in.”

  Mary’s mouth fell open. “Estrella has a partner? She never mentioned. Not once...”

  “It doesn’t surprise me. My mother is old-fashioned. Officially, she doesn’t believe in premarital sex.”

  “Yet she has a live-in boyfriend?”

  “Ah, ah, ah,” John said with one finger ticking back and forth. “He’s not her boyfriend. She refers to him as her tenant. I think I was about twelve when I finally realized that most tenants don’t share your mother’s bed with her.”

  “They’ve been together that long?”

  “Almost as long as I can remember.” Something pained flicked across John’s face, but the scowl resumed almost immediately.

  “Why don’t they just get married?”

  “My mother also doesn’t believe in second marriages,” he said with a roll of his eyes. That striking gaze flicked down to Mary. “She does, however, strongly believe in gray areas.”

  Mary laughed, despite her surly company. “So. What’s wrong with Jonah?”