Zip, Zero, Zilch

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Zip, Zero, Zilch Page 12

by Tammy Falkner


  “Can you give me a few minutes?” she asks softly. “And let my sisters in when they get here? Please?”

  Wait. Her sisters are coming over? “Are you sure you’re all right?” I jiggle the door a little harder.

  “I’m fine, Sam.”

  Suddenly, there’s a knock on the front door. I walk over and open it, and her four sisters brush past me. Star is carrying a brown paper bag in her hand. “Which way to the boom-boom room?” Wren asks.

  I point. Like an idiot. Because I am one.

  They all go down the hallway and one of them knocks and says, “The cavalry is here. Duh duh duh duh!” She trumpets the noise like the British are coming.

  The door opens and Peck jerks the four of them into the room.

  What the fuck just happened?

  Peck

  I am so stupid. I started my period this afternoon, and I had one tampon left. One. Just one. And then I dropped it. Right into the toilet. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, because when you have four sisters, there are always feminine hygiene products around. But there are none at Sam’s apartment. I don’t know if I should be happy about that. I probably should, because if he had some, I’d have to wonder who they belonged to. He didn’t. I checked.

  So I had no choice but to call my sisters and ask one of them to bring me some. I didn’t expect all four of them to show up, but I should have. Nosy bitches.

  Star closes the door behind her and then tosses me the paper bag. I disappear into the bathroom, take care of things, and come back out. Now that I can, I pull on panties, and drop a long T-shirt down over my towel, and then tug it free.

  “So this is where the magic happens, huh?” Fin asks. She looks around. “Nice digs.”

  “I kind of expected some kinky shit in here,” Wren says. She opens the top drawer of the bedside table. “No dirty magazines or anything,” she says.

  “Get out of his drawers,” I scold, and I walk over and chuck her with my hip. She falls back onto the center of Sam’s bed. Then she suddenly sits up.

  “Wait!” she cries. “Did you have sex here? On these covers?”

  I laugh. “No. No sex. You’re safe. Lounge all you want.”

  I drag a wide-tooth comb through my hair.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” Fin says. “He’s still withholding the goodies?”

  “Shut up,” I grouse.

  “Oh, he is.” She makes a tsk-tsk sound with her teeth. “I’m so sorry for your misfortune.”

  I decide to be honest. They’re my sisters, after all. “I swear to God, if he doesn’t make a move soon, I’m going to lose my mind.”

  Fin points to her crotch. “So, he ate you out that one time, and then he’s been hands off ever since?”

  “No, not hands off,” I admit. “Hands on. All the time. But no sex.”

  “That’s not a bad thing,” Star says. Leave it to her to be the voice of reason. “It’s good to wait.”

  “Says Gidget the flying nun,” Fin grouses.

  “Says the slut of Zero,” Star tosses back. She picks up a pillow and throws it at Fin’s head. She’s laughing, though.

  “Don’t even try to slut-shame me,” Fin says. She pretends to be offended, but we all know she’s not.

  “Why should she? It wouldn’t make a difference.” Wren laughs.

  Fin has a healthy sexual appetite, and she doesn’t sleep with anyone more than once. It’s a rule, I think. There’s no problem with it, of course—it’s her decision what she does with her body—but Star likes to try to reform her every now and then. I don’t know why. Fin has no desire or need to change. She’s perfectly happy breaking hearts all over New York.

  “So why won’t he sleep with you?” Lark asks. She picks up a picture of him with all his brothers and their wives. It was taken on a beach. It’s really a lovely picture.

  “I’m supposed to fall in love with him first,” I say quietly.

  Fin jumps up. “Fuck that! He wants a fucking commitment? What is this—the stone age?” She laughs out loud.

  Star watches my face. “How close are you?”

  I toy with a string on the bedspread. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I’m there.”

  A pillow hits my face. “Shut the fuck up!” Wren cries. “Seriously?”

  “You love him?” Star asks quietly.

  “I am pretty sure I do.”

  “How do you know?” Star asks. She’s not joking. She looks intently at my face.

  “I just…know. I don’t know.” I flop back on the bed with a groan. “What do I do?”

  “Him,” Fin calls. “Do him. Then let him do you. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Wren lays her hand on my forehead. “Do you have a fever? No. You’re cool as a cucumber.”

  “I think I love him.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Star asks.

  “We’re about to go on tour for six weeks, that’s what.”

  “Will you miss him?”

  “Like crazy.” My heart hurts at the very thought of it.

  “It’s just six weeks. If it’s real, he’ll still be here when you get back.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  A knock sounds on the door. “Peck,” Sam calls.

  I crack the door. “Yes?”

  “I’m getting worried,” he blurts out.

  I open the door wider, so he can see the way my sisters are draped all over his furniture. “Everything is fine.”

  “Fine, now that we saved the day.” Lark raises her arms like she’s flexing her muscles. “Zeroes to the rescue.”

  I point to the door. “Out,” I tell my sisters.

  Sam leans in the doorway, grinning at them.

  “Damn, he’s pretty,” Wren says as she walks by him.

  He grins even more.

  “Thank you,” I call to their retreating backs.

  They all wave at me, and go out the door. But then Fin sticks her head back in. “All your equipment works, right?” she asks Sam. She waves toward his crotch. “I mean that equipment. Not the football equipment.”

  Sam glances down and grins. “Last time I checked.” He scratches his scruffy chin.

  “Oh, ok. Just wanted to be sure.” She winks at me. “Love you, Peck!” she sings out, and then she closes the door.

  Sam chuckles. “So nice that your sisters are worried about my junk.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “What was in the bag?”

  “Nothing.” Heat creeps up my cheeks.

  “Was too. What was it?”

  “Nothing,” I say again. My face is flaming hot. “Are you ready to go to bed?”

  He nods, and looks me up and down.

  He goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He comes back carrying the box of tampons that I thought I’d hidden behind the towels. “You had your sisters bring you tampons?” He laughs. And it’s not a snicker. It’s a great big belly laugh. I expect him to wipe his eyes any second.

  I snatch them out of his hand and stick them back under the counter. “That is not amusing.”

  “Are you kidding?” he cackles. “That shit’s funny as hell.” He laughs for a moment and then he finally sobers. “Why didn’t you tell me you needed them? I would have gone to the store.”

  My eyes jerk up. He’s serious. “It’s kind of a girl thing.” I scratch my nose, trying to find something to do with my hands.

  “It’s a boy thing, too, when a boy’s girl needs them. Next time, just tell me and I’ll go get them.” He kisses my forehead.

  “Thanks,” I say quietly.

  He points to his bedside table. “Why is my drawer open?”

  “Oh, ah…” I breathe in. He watches me. “The girls were looking for dirty magazines.”

  “They’re in the bottom drawer,” he tosses out casually. Then he goes back into the bathroom and closes the door.

  I tiptoe over to the night stand and open the bottom drawer. It makes
a racket, and I look over my shoulder to be sure he’s not coming out, but I’m nosy and I want to see what he’s talking about.

  There’s nothing in the bottom drawer. I push it shut.

  He walks back out of the bathroom.

  “Liar,” I say.

  He laughs and lies back on the bed, resting the back of his head in his hands. “Bottom drawer of the dresser, silly,” he tells me. He glares at me in challenge, a spark in his eyes.

  I can’t help it. I want to see. I open the drawer and then freeze. He wasn’t kidding. He has a magazine. And a movie. I pick it up and look at it, and I can feel that blush creep up my face again.

  “Want to watch it with me?” he asks innocently. Like he’s asking me to watch Frozen.

  “Um…” Considering that I just got my period, watching the movie might be a lesson in torture. “No thanks. Maybe another time.”

  “Rain check,” he says.

  He tosses the covers back and I get in bed with him. He turns off the light and pulls me to lie on his chest.

  He takes a breath. “Seriously, Peck,” he says. “Next time you need something—anything—just tell me. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Okay,” I whisper. After a moment, I say, “This is kind of weird.”

  “Tampons are not weird. They’re necessary. Like shampoo and toothpaste and condoms.”

  “Yep.” I got no response to that.

  “Why does it bother you?”

  “I don’t know.” It just seems to be very…intimate.

  He’s quiet. I can feel his chest moving beneath my face. Up. Down. Up. Down.

  “Hey Sam, can I tell you something?” I whisper. I lift my face and press my chin into his chest so I can look toward his face in the dark.

  “You can tell me anything.” He kisses my forehead.

  “I think I might be falling in love with you.”

  His breath stalls.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah…”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He shifts under me a little, like he’s suddenly restless. Then he blurts out, “Are you sure?”

  He rolls me over onto my back so he can hover over me. I nod. He groans and presses his face into my neck. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that.”

  “Do you think you might love me too? Someday? Maybe not even now. But someday?” My voice quivers.

  “Do you realize that you haven’t even stuttered a single time since we’ve been talking tonight?” he says out of the blue.

  I sit up. “What?” Of course I stuttered. I always stutter.

  “Not once. Not a single time tonight. That’s just about as important to me as your telling me you love me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it means you’re comfortable with me. You trust me. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.” He waits a second. “Am I wrong?”

  He’s right. I haven’t stammered even once. But suddenly I’m tongue-tied. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

  He pulls me back down to him. “Don’t say anything.”

  He grabs my thigh and pulls my leg across his hips. I nestle into the crook of his shoulder. His hand slides up and down my thigh and then disappears beneath the edge of my panties. “Sam,” I warn.

  He laughs. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  As I close my eyes, I realize he never really did say he loves me back.

  Sam

  I go to the tattoo shop early the next day, because I know Paul is on the schedule and I’m hoping he will be alone. I really need to talk to him.

  I push through the door and bells jingle over my head. I stop short when I see Josh sitting across the table from Friday. Friday married my oldest brother Paul, and she’s almost like a mom to us—that is, if you can count a hot-as-hell pin-up with red lips, short skirts, and high heels as a mom. But she’s the closest thing we have.

  “Good morning,” Friday chirps at me.

  I’m really surprised to see her alone here with Josh. Paul can’t be far away. He’d never leave her alone for very long with someone he doesn’t trust. And this is someone no one should trust. I just have that feeling. He might be in a wheelchair, but he’s hard. Too hard.

  “Morning,” I murmur.

  Friday points to Josh. “Josh here was just telling me about where he’s from.”

  “Where’s Paul?”

  She glares at me. “He’s dropping the kids at Matt’s house.”

  I glare back at her. “Why are you here alone?”

  “Because someone needed to be here.” Her brow furrows and I think she might strangle me if given an opportunity. “Are you working today?”

  I shake my head. “No, I just wanted to talk to Paul.”

  She tilts her head and stares at me. I swear, it makes me twitchy when she does that shit. “Everything okay?” she asks.

  “Fine.”

  I sit down in a rolling chair and start to spin in it.

  Josh rolls toward the back of the shop and disappears into the supply room.

  “You could be a little more welcoming!” she hisses at me.

  “Why the fuck are you here alone with him, Friday?” I hiss back. “You know he could be dangerous.”

  She shakes her head. “He’s not.”

  “Fuck,” I breathe. “How do you know that?” I glare at her. “You don’t.”

  “I do.” She lifts her nose in the air. “I just have a feeling.”

  “When will Paul be here?” I ask. No fucking way I’m leaving until he gets here, particularly now that I know she’s here alone with the ex-con.

  She nods toward the back of the shop, toward Josh-the-ex-con-who-she-thinks-is-a-teddy-bear, and says, “We’re filming today. The cameras are going to love him.”

  I stop spinning. “Does he know he’s going to be filmed?”

  She nods. “That’s what we were just talking about.”

  “And he’s okay with that?”

  She nods. “Apparently. He stayed, didn’t he?” She does that head-tilty thing again and just looks at me. “So, what did you want to talk to Paul about?”

  Friday was in the room the last time Paul gave me advice about Peck, so she knows all about my fears. “Just guy talk,” I tell her anyway, because she’s being nosy.

  “Sex talk,” she clarifies. “You need some condoms? There’s a whole drawer full at home.”

  Suddenly the door opens and Pete rushes in. He’s all smiles and he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a cigar made of bubble gum. “We’re pregnant!” he yells.

  Friday grins and runs to him. He catches her against him and he swings her around. “So happy for you two,” she says and she kisses Pete’s cheek. “Is Reagan with you?” She looks over his shoulder.

  “Nah, she’s at home puking her guts out.” He laughs. “Nasty stuff, that morning sickness.”

  “And you left her alone while she’s sick?” Friday slugs him on the arm.

  “Actually, she threw me out.” He starts to mock her voice. “If you don’t get the fuck out of my face, I’m going to drop-kick you into the middle of next week.” He laughs. “She probably even meant it. Usually when she’s pissed at me, she threatens my balls. So I’m pretty sure she didn’t want me around watching her heave. Plus, I wanted to come and check on Josh. Is he here?”

  Friday points toward the rear of the shop and Pete goes in that direction.

  “I can’t believe he was allowed to breed,” I say quietly.

  “He’s going to make a wonderful father.” She makes a happy little inhale. Then she narrows her eyes. “So, how’s Peck?”

  “She’s fine.”

  “And?” She does that cute little brow arch and her eyebrow piercing goes sideways.

  “And nothing.” I cross my arms in front of my chest and pretend to pout.

  “And everything.” She picks up a piece of paper from the table next to her, balls it up, and throws it at my head.

  I d
eflect it with my arm. “What was that for?”

  “For lying.”

  “I’m not lying,” I protest.

  “Then let’s try again. How’s Peck?”

  “She’s still fine, just like she was thirty seconds ago.”

  “Why are you here, Sam?” She taps the heel of those ridiculously high heels.

  I throw up my hands. “Can’t a guy just come by to chat?”

  The bells over the door jingle again and I turn to look. Thank God it’s Paul.

  “Did you know your wife was here alone with the new guy?”

  Paul stares at her for a second, then he marches forward, grabs her elbow and pulls her into the office.

  Oh, crap. She’s going to kill me for ratting her out.

  They come out a few minutes later, and she won’t even look in my direction. She goes to the back and disappears.

  “She’s going to kill me,” I mutter.

  “Don’t fall asleep around her any time soon,” he warns. “She knew not to be alone with him. I’d already told her, but she’s too fucking nosy for her own good.” He looks at me. “How’s the leg?”

  “Better.”

  “And Peck?”

  “Peck’s leg is fine.”

  “Dickwad,” he mutters. He looks up and I suddenly have all his attention. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah.” I heave a sigh and drop my face into my hands.

  “Then what’s up?”

  “She told me she loves me,” I blurt out.

  His eyes open wide. “Wow.”

  Wow? That’s all I get?

  He starts setting up his machines. “How do you feel about that?”

  “I fucking love it.” My heart thrills.

  “But?”

  “But I’m just not sure.”

  He laughs. “No one ever is. You just have to go with your gut. If it’s meant to be, you’ll meet her somewhere near the middle and fall in love with her too.”

  “Oh, I already did.”

  He looks up and smiles. “Really?”

  A grin tips the corners of my lips. “Yeah.”

  “What does love mean to you?” he asks.

  “It means that if something happened to her tomorrow, I don’t know if I would ever be the same.”

  “Love does that to you.”

  “Did you feel like Friday was yours long before she knew she was yours?”

 

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