by Cara Bastone
It was a good night. We hooked up. We’re seeing each other again tonight. John opened his mouth. “I’m such a goner,” he said instead and pushed his fingers against his forehead. It was just a habit, though, because there was no headache brewing there. No tension. No fear or anxiety. Nope. The only thing rising inside of John at that particular moment was joy.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Richie asked, his arms crossed over his chest and his back against the door.
John dropped his hand and sighed. “It’s a good thing. It’s a freaking great thing.”
“Yes!” Richie did three quick karate punches and a sloppy roundhouse kick that came shockingly close to John’s nose in their cramped office space. “Yesyesyes! Finally! I knew it. I knew last night was the night. I will gladly accept flowers, gift certificates, a night out on the town, you pick.”
John laughed and shook his head at his irreverent friend. “I’m sorry. You want me to get you a gift because things with Mary finally started happening?”
“Hey! Who dragged Beth out of that bar last night? I opened up a lane for you, John. That’s invaluable in fragile moments like that.”
John considered his friend’s words and then bobbed his head from side to side, conceding the point. “You’ll get a nice thank-you card in the mail.”
“Cheapskate.”
John shrugged. “Tigers don’t change their stripes. Especially when they suddenly have a beautiful woman to take out for dinner every once in a while.”
“You have to know by now that she doesn’t care about your money situation. She’s into you for you. I can tell. I have a sixth sense about these things.”
John sighed and the joy didn’t stop rising within him; it just rose at a much more sedate pace. “We haven’t really talked about all that yet. But I’m starting to understand that this is likely my issue much more than it’s Mary’s. And yes, I’m also beginning to understand that she’s really into me. Because of who I am. That’s part of why I’m such a goner.” John dragged his hands over his face and let his fingertips grip at his jawbone for a long minute, elongating his face in glee and surprise. “I seriously cannot believe this is happening.”
“Believe it, baby,” Richie said, a wide, gleeful grin on his face. “You deserve it.”
* * *
THEY SPENT THAT night together as they’d planned to and then the entire weekend as well. It was Sunday afternoon when John realized how far off the deep end he’d really gone with Mary.
Because he was literally herding a cat. While he wore oven mitts.
He was chasing Ruth around his apartment, attempting to jam her into her kennel for the cab ride over to Mary’s. Ruth was an easygoing personality, unless it came to getting crammed into a confined space, which John considered fair. Annoying, but fair.
She’d nearly scratched the oven mitts to ribbons by the time he’d loaded her in. He strapped a backpack on, filled with stuff that Ruth would need to spend the next few days at Mary’s house and a few changes of clothes for himself as well.
He was not, by any means, moving in with Mary. But there was a heat wave coming. It was going to be over a hundred degrees for at least four days and Mary had put her foot down. John could stay at his house if he wanted, she’d informed him. But she and Ruth were staying where there was air-conditioning.
He’d also considered that to be fair. Mary had already proven that she had no problem sleeping hot and naked in front of his cheap box fan. And besides, in the hottest parts of the summer, he usually took Ruth and stayed in his old room at Estrella’s, where there was an ancient window unit that made life tolerable. He’d had to shelve a surprisingly small amount of pride in order to hail the cab that was going to whisk him and Ruth away to a fancier life with a gorgeous woman.
Who wore a sundress down to her toes, her hair in damp waves down her back. She bit into a slice of watermelon when she greeted John at her door and popped a bite of the icy fruit into his mouth before she kissed him.
“Mmm,” he murmured, feeling like he was in the best part of a great dream, the part right before everything went wobbly and stopped making sense.
“Hey, Ruthie!” Mary took the kennel from John and set it down. John closed the door.
“I’m warning you, she’s usually very grumpy after a cab ride in her kennel.”
“She’s entitled. No one likes to be handled.” Mary let the cat out and clicked her tongue, like Ruth was a dog. “Come on, girl, come see your area.”
To John’s amazement, his cat actually followed after Mary.
“Her area?” he called, setting his bag down on the floor and following after them. He stopped stock-still in the doorway of a small room next to the bathroom. He hadn’t even known this little room was there. “Your laundry room has air-conditioning,” John said tonelessly.
The fact that she even had a laundry room was mind-boggling to John. But that she paid to keep it cool in the summer? Jeez.
“It’s central air,” Mary replied, on her knees next to Ruth, showing her a shiny new litter box and tall cat castle that Ruth was already getting her claws blissfully stuck to.
John blinked down at the mouse with a jingle bell that Ruth had started batting around.
“You got Ruth a bunch of toys. And a litter box. And a castle.”
Mary looked up at him. “I assumed you were going to bring food for her. But yeah, she needs a little apartment if she’s going to stay here for a few days. I wanted her to be comfortable.”
John knew that Mary was actually saying, I wanted you to be comfortable, John.
He looked down at the small, portable litter box he’d brought, clutched in his hands. He took a deep breath and decided then and there that feeling inadequate was a waste of energy. “You’re the sweetest woman of all time.”
It was only when Mary flushed with pink relief and pleasure that John saw just how nervous she’d been to show him her purchases. She’d wanted to welcome him without damaging his pride.
He set the travel litter box aside, strode to the kitchen, washed his hands and whirled on Mary, picking her up by the hips and setting her on the kitchen counter. He stepped between her legs, getting tangled up in the skirt of her sundress and loving it.
“I’m serious, Mare.” He nuzzled at her neck, her hair, one cheek against hers. “I’m not exaggerating. You are literally the sweetest person I’ve ever met. I’m never getting over you.”
He hadn’t meant to say the last part out loud.
She stiffened in his arms for just a moment, and he cursed himself for saying too much too fast. Wasn’t I’m never getting over you the same thing as saying I’m going to love you forever? They weren’t there yet. They weren’t even close to—
“Good,” Mary told him fiercely, her fingers tangled in the hair at the crown of his head, pulling him back an inch so she could glare at him. “That works just fine for me.”
And then her fingers were scrabbling at his shirt. He had the feeling that she was trying very hard not to tear any buttons.
Everything in John pulled tight, almost painfully. He was frozen in a block of time, the world spinning on without him.
Good.
She wanted him to love her.
Good.
And it was just so freaking good.
John animated all at once, breath in his chest, his heart racing to catch up with everything it had just missed. He pulled his arms from around her waist, grabbed his white shirt at the center and gave it a good yank. Buttons flew everywhere as he destroyed it, ripped it off his shoulders.
“Your shirt!” she yelped. “You wrecked it!”
“I have others.”
Her hands were palms down in his chest hair, her fingers gripping too hard at his shoulders and collarbones. He loved the way she touched him. Like he could take it. Like there was no breaking him. Good
.
“John, you wrecked one of your shirts for me.” When she landed her forehead against his shoulder in what appeared to be overwhelmed reverence, John guessed that at some point she had snooped in his closet and seen how few clothes he actually owned. She must have seen how scrupulously he cared for his wardrobe.
“My birthday is in a month,” he informed her. “You can buy me a new one. Any color you want.”
That—if her tongue in his mouth was any indication—had been exactly the right thing to say. John groaned against the wet-hot slide of her mouth pressed to his. She tasted like watermelon. He was lost in the feel of her. The warm silk of her hair. The insistent stroke of her hands against him. He heard his belt and zipper before he quite registered what she was doing. He grabbed his pants before they fell and pulled the condom out of his pocket that he’d optimistically placed there before he’d left his apartment. There were about a thousand more crammed into his backpack.
Mary took the condom from him and sheathed him with it as his hands slipped under her dress and found her underwear. Those were gone, her dress hitched up and then they were smashed against one another, him slipping and sliding against her wetness as they kissed and kissed and kissed.
When he held her still and pushed inside, they both braced and groaned and panted against the utterly exquisite rightness of it. What a strange thing it was that bodies wanted to do when in love, John mused for a moment. That more than sleeping or eating or any other basic need, at that moment John wanted to be inside of Mary. And it made sense to him. Because her body was the most sacred, most special place on earth. He wanted to be where Mary was. Exactly where she was. So close he was part of her. She bit hard at his bottom lip and clawed at his back, loving him fiercely, and he knew she wanted exactly the same thing as he did.
* * *
WHEN THE HEAT WAVE subsided back into the low nineties, John and Ruth moved back to his apartment, but Mary pretty much moved with them. They were spending almost every single night together.
It was overwhelming to her, not the speed or intensity with which they were starting their relationship, but how obvious it now was that she’d been utterly starving for this kind of love. Both she and John were gorging on one another, relishing the company, the affection, the sex.
They’d incubated together for a week and a half when Estrella invited Mary over to her house for a Sunday dinner.
John hadn’t mentioned to his mother that he and Mary were actually together now. They figured they could tell her together at the dinner.
Mary found herself unexpectedly nervous as she knocked on Estrella’s door that night. It wasn’t that she suddenly expected Estrella to disapprove of her. It was that everything in Mary’s life was changing so quickly. She’d had a hell of a summer—the blind dates, the break-in, Johnjohnjohn. And now this, her relationship with Estrella was about to change as well.
Estrella, one of her closest friends, was about to become the mother of the man she was seeing. That was new. And scary.
Mary took a deep breath that stalled when Estrella’s door swung open. But it was just John standing there, grinning at her, munching on something crunchy. His eyes looked lazy and relaxed and utterly thrilled to see her. They’d woken up together that morning, but Mary had spent the day at the shop and he’d had a ton of work to catch up on. It felt like they’d been separated for days. John pulled her in off the doorstep and hugged her tightly against him.
“Damn, you look lovely.”
She’d better look lovely. She’d spent an extra hour on her appearance for Estrella. She’d straightened her hair, done her makeup, practically hauled her entire closet off its hangers before she’d decided on this one perfect, peachy dress that showed off her shoulders and her calves.
John crunched in her ear.
She laughed and pulled back. “What are you munching on?”
“My mother made tortilla chips and guac. Seriously, you’ll never be the same after you eat her chips and guac. By the way, there’s way more people here than we thought.”
He took her hand and tugged her back through the house to the kitchen and all the way through to the back porch that Mary hadn’t even known was there. Mary peeked out, gasped and then yanked John back into the kitchen. “There’s a dozen people out there!”
“Like I said. More than we thought.” He frowned down at her quizzically.
“Let’s wait to tell her.”
He frowned even more, that beloved V carving its place on his face. “Until when?”
“We’ll wait out everyone and tell her when it’s just us. Later tonight. I just don’t want to do it in front of everyone.”
The V eased as soon as he realized that she wasn’t hoping to wait indefinitely to tell his mother. “Okay. Sounds reasonable.”
They dropped hands and stepped out onto the porch.
“Mary!”
Estrella, salt-and-pepper hair in a messy bundle on top of her head and a loose sundress flapping around her knees, practically bowled other guests aside.
Mary found herself wrapped up in a warm, firm hug. “You look beautiful!” Estrella crowed into Mary’s hair before she’d even released her. “Radiant and happy and perfect. I’m so glad you’re here. Now the party is perfect.”
Tears sprang to Mary’s eyes as this woman, this good mother, poured support and positive feeling into her. This woman who held nothing back from Mary. Who hadn’t held it against her when she’d initially rejected John. Who’d shown up at her shop with a wine and cheese picnic and helped Mary rebuild. Who thought Mary was the tippiest top of any mountaintop.
This was what a mother’s hug and acceptance were supposed to feel like. And Mary truly hadn’t felt that since Tiff had passed. Estrella loosened the hug to step back, but Mary held on tight and the embrace continued. Two tears rolled down Mary’s face before she stepped back from the hug and wiped the tears from her face, her eyes blurred and all the other guests at the party disappeared into a smudge of color.
“John and I are together,” she told Estrella. She heard John’s intake of breath and then his warm hand was at her waist.
“I thought we were waiting,” he said, but his words were basically turned into a groaning oof as his mother cuffed him around the neck and dragged him into a hug that looked rather painful. Estrella pecked at the side of his head with forceful kisses.
“I knew it!” she crowed through tears. “I knew the two of you were a love match. I knew it from the day I met Mary, but I didn’t want to push. She wasn’t really dating, and then before I knew it, she was dating that horrible Doug. But then! The window! The opening! And I kicked you through straight to her, my boy. And you’re such a good boy. You did such a good job.”
She released John with such force he stumbled backward and then Estrella pounced back onto Mary. “I told you he was a nice boy. Clumsy but sweet. Oh, Mary. And you’re such a good girl.”
“Estrella.” A deep voice came from over Estrella’s shoulder, and then there was Cormac, prying a sobbing Estrella off of Mary’s neck. “Let the girl take a breath.”
In fact, taking a breath was the first thing Mary did once Cormac had successfully pried Estrella off of her. She gasped for air and sagged back into John, who wrapped both arms around her waist and laughed into her hair.
“Sorry,” Mary said as she turned to him. “Your mom is such a good mom. I got overwhelmed. I didn’t want to hide it.”
“Fine by me, baby,” John murmured, brushing her hair back from her face and kissing her gently. “I’d been trying to figure out how I was supposed to keep from flirting with you until the rest of the guests left.”
“Oh, my God,” Estrella said through more tears. “They’re canoodling.”
“Can this count as your birthday present this year, Ma?” John asked with an easy smile on his face.
“Slippery slope, son,” C
ormac admonished with a smile that matched John’s. “Next year she’ll be demanding a wedding for her birthday. The year after that, grandbabies.”
Both Mary and John stiffened.
“Right,” John said with a laugh. “Socks it is, then, Ma.”
The rest of the evening passed much less eventfully with good food and cold drinks and even a light breeze once the sun went down. It turned out that Mary actually knew most of the people from when she’d met them at the block party.
When it was just the four of them, John, Mary, Estrella and Cormac, Estrella’s eyes filled with tears again. Mary perched on John’s lap even though there was plenty of available seating.
“I won’t pressure you,” Estrella started, and John groaned.
“Ma...”
Estrella waved a hand through the air, striking John’s disapproval from the record. “I won’t pressure you, but I just want you to know, Mary, that I love you. And that you are welcome in my house and in my heart, and I couldn’t be happier.”
Mary burst into tears herself.
On their way home, the train rocking them back and forth and into one another in a way that was soothing only to New Yorkers, Mary tipped her head up from John’s shoulder and squinted at him. “You’re really lucky to have a mom like the one you have.”
John nodded. “I’ve learned that over the years.” He cleared his throat and looked momentarily nervous. “Ah, I’m more than happy to share the wealth, Mary. Anytime you need a mom, you should hit up Estrella. Nothing would make her happier.” He kissed Mary’s palm. “Or me happier, for that matter.”
Mary settled her head back on his shoulder and sighed. It had been so long since she’d felt like this. Like she was part of a unit. She’d never once felt this way with her parents. She’d felt like this with Tiff and with Cora. And now with John and Estrella. And Ruth, of course.
She knew that the time was coming when John would have to meet her parents. The thought sat heavily in her gut. Her mother hadn’t reached out since the Carver Reinhardt debacle. It wasn’t altogether unusual to go a month without a check-in from her folks, but the silence felt particularly loud right now. Mary had made it clear that she wouldn’t be reaching out to them.
