by Ann Aguirre
Eventually we found the perfect spot, and Rob spread out our quilt, then he went to see if his parents needed anything. For some reason. Mr. Hot Ginger went off on his own and when he returned, he radiated sorrow. With peculiar gravitas, he shot off a confetti bottle rocket, but the little dude seemed to think it was awesome. When Rob came back, I shifted to make room for him beside me.
“All good?” I asked.
“Yeah, they’re fine. Happy to have us all together.”
Glancing over, I saw that Nadia and her guy were nesting like Russian dolls, her in his arms and Sam snuggled up between her knees. That wasn’t in the cards for my near future, but she looked so happy that I knew it had to be the right move for her. Curling my legs to the side, I rested lightly against Rob. Smiling down at me, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, drawing me even closer. Another look at Nadia confirmed it; yeah, she’d finally noticed, and she could’ve done that silent talking thing with her eyebrows, as we’d perfected the WTF look ages ago, but she smiled instead. I took it to mean she wasn’t mad, so I whispered, “Thank you.”
“Hmm?” Rob tilted his head toward me.
“Nothing. But I think Nadia just gave us her blessing.”
“That’s a relief,” he said. “I was losing sleep.”
Grinning, I dug my fingers into his side. “Smart-ass.”
The fireworks were gorgeous—half an hour of spectacular colors and starbursts brightening the night sky. He held me close the whole time, and I couldn’t remember a more magical night. No public speaking, no talking to strangers, no pressure. Just Rob and me, surrounded by people who cared about us, even if they didn’t always understand. That was probably the best definition of family anyway.
Afterward, it took forever to get out of the fairgrounds. While we waited to merge onto the main road, he asked, “Do you want to go home or to my parents’ place for a while?”
It was late enough that we could call it a day but I should really sit down with Nadia. Since I’d be working the rest of the week, I had no idea if I’d see her before she left. Since I’d claimed to be waiting to talk to her in person, this was my shot.
“Casa Conrad...for a little while anyway.”
He nodded. “I’ll keep Ty busy while you square things with Nadia.”
“You know me so well.”
“I’m going for a Ph.D. in Lauren Barrett studies.”
I ran a hand gently across the back of his head. “That’s a complicated discipline, but I approve of your diligence. There will be extra homework tonight, by the way.”
He rolled his shoulders, hinting none too subtly that I should rub his neck. So I did, lengthening the tendons on either side with thumb and forefinger. Rob made a pleased sound; his skin was smooth and warm beneath my fingertips, and I didn’t think I’d ever seen him look so relaxed, particularly after a whole day with his family. These days, the comments just rolled right off him. I’d like to believe I had something to do with it.
We waited for his mom to park, then pulled in behind her. It was after ten, and the kid had conked out in the car. As Mr. Hot Ginger carried him inside, I nudged Nadia. “Back porch?”
“I’ll get some iced tea and be right out.”
In truth, it was more of a deck, beautifully built by Rob and his dad. The Conrads had a fantastic backyard; I’d always loved hanging out back here. I got a box of matches and lit the citronella candles set along the railings. Fireflies signaled to each other, lighting amber here and there, but the mosquitos would eat us up if without some repellent. I sprayed my bare bits, then settled in a glider chair to wait.
Two minutes later, Nadia came out, offered me a frosty glass. “So...you and Rob?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I probably should’ve said something sooner.”
“We stopped telling each other everything a while ago,” she pointed out.
“I don’t know whose fault that is.”
“Let’s not worry about that. But...I really miss you, Lauren. Your emails are fine, but I can read between the lines. I know when I’m being shut out.”
“Not on purpose.”
There were just things I couldn’t tell her, maybe ever. Shit, I’d confessed to Rob about being pulled over while giving a drunken blow job, and that wasn’t even the worst thing that happened when I was in Michigan...because of me, because I was out of control, denying I had a problem. My drinking didn’t escalate all the way to alcoholism, but it could have.
I added, “You didn’t tell me about Ty, either. Well, not before anyone else.”
“Then let’s split the blame halfway and decide what to do about it.”
“Okay. On my end, no more emails like I’d send a pen pal. I’ll tell you what’s really going on, and I’ll bitch like we used to.”
“I’d like that. And I promise I won’t keep secrets from you, either. I’ll keep you posted on what’s up with Ty and me. Plus, I’ll try to be more...aware of what’s going on with you. I’m so sorry that I didn’t notice—”
“It’s fine. I was doing my best not to let on.” And my ability to fake a whole personality, a whole life, was pretty solid.
“Are we okay?” she asked.
Setting my tea down, I got up and hugged her. “We’re great.”
“I don’t want certain details, but...you and Rob? Really?” She sounded so dubious.
“You’re his sister, you’re not supposed to get it. If you did, it would be über-creepy, Flowers in the Attic style.”
“But you’re actually going out.”
“Yeah. Okay, secret confession time. I’ve had a thing for him pretty much forever. There’s a reason I spent, like, every weekend at your house in high school.”
Nadia laughed. “Dude, I guessed that five years ago. But I thought you got over it.”
“Not really.”
She hesitated, as if unsure she should ask me this. “Is that why it was a no with Max?”
Max, the roommate I’d confessed to sleeping with, back when I was trying to shock Rob. Not that it worked.
“Partly.” But Max was also entangled inextricably with the worst night of my life, the night I realized I could do myself irreparable harm, unchecked. I’d never be able to look at him without remembering.
“I hope he makes you happy. And vice versa.”
“So far, so good.”
We talked for an hour more, catching each other up with gossip in Michigan and Nebraska. She was amazed to hear about Krista’s baby, even more shocked that I’d made friends with Avery. Nadia almost fell to the floor when I told her about the fight at the Stop & Go. In turn, she filled me in about Angus’s boyfriend, and how Courtney was working out as a roomie replacement. By the time Rob came out to get me, I felt like we were in a better place than we had been since our freshman year.
“When are you leaving?” I asked.
“Day after tomorrow. You’re working?”
“Yeah. I’ll try to swing by after my shift ends.”
“If you can’t, it’s okay. You have shit to do, I get it.”
“Your mom doesn’t,” I muttered.
Nadia cocked a brow. “Huh?”
Rob tried to shush me, but I explained, “She made us jump hoops, like you guys are visiting royalty. She had him moving furniture all day Sunday.”
Nadia sighed. “Sorry about that. I’ll talk to her. It’s just because I’m not here that much.”
He grinned and messed up her hair. “I didn’t do it for you.”
“’Night,” I called as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and urged me out.
* * *
The next day at work, the whole dealership was in an uproar. I had no idea why until one of the office ladies paused at my desk with a conspiratorial look. “Find a reason to peek into the garage. Yo
u won’t be sorry.”
Puzzled but intrigued, I set my stuff down and went to join the huddle of sales people, peering through the door that led into the maintenance bays. Holy shit. I recognized the chief butthead’s prized white Lexus, but someone with a major grudge had seriously fucked it up. Red paint was splattered all over it, I assumed in lieu of blood, and the hood was dented like somebody had taken a sledgehammer to it. On the trunk, it read, FUCKING PRICK. On the whole, I couldn’t disagree.
I wondered who he’d pissed off, but I went back to work and didn’t think any more of it until I heard him shouting into his cell phone, demanding that somebody go pick up that crazy Rob Conrad, who was in here recently, threatening him. Fuck. I tried calling Rob, but he didn’t pick up. While I greeted customers and manned the phone, I texted a warning. But I still hadn’t heard from him when I left the car lot.
He’s working. He can’t be texting while he’s pouring concrete. Or whatever. In all honesty, I had no idea what Rob did on the construction site all day. I imagined sawing wood, hammering things, or maybe using heavy machinery. He and I would never talk about our day jobs the way some couples did.
While I was waiting for him to get home, a sheriff’s car drove past twice, which made me think they were taking Davies seriously. The deputy slowed but didn’t pull in. I was getting really twitchy when Rob finally rolled up.
“It’s nice to find you waiting when I get home,” he said as he hopped out of the truck. “But you could’ve gone inside.”
“Where’s your phone?” I demanded.
“Inside. I forgot it this morning.”
Before I could explain, the squad car drove up. The deputy got out and ambled toward us, one hand hooked in his belt loop. “Robert Conrad?”
“That’s me.”
“I need to ask you some questions. We can do it here, if you’re friendly and let me look around your property. Or I can haul you in, waste your whole night.”
Rob frowned. He was visibly hot and sweaty, face streaked with dirt, and his T-shirt was grime-encrusted. Whatever he’d been doing all day, it was messy. So he didn’t look like he was in any mood to deal with this shit. I had no idea what to do.
“Questions first, or search?” he finally asked.
I’d ask what the guy wanted with him first, but Rob had nothing to hide. So when the deputy pointed at the detached garage and said, “Let’s start there,” he just shrugged and opened the doors with the remote.
His workshop space was clean and well-organized with a couple of tables in progress from recent net orders. Tools hung neatly in their places, and the green truck seemed to have been washed recently. I let out a quiet sigh of relief when I spotted no red paint; he only had stains in various hues and the earth tones he’d used in the house.
“You’re a carpenter?” the deputy asked, inspecting his tools. Rob did have a sledgehammer, probably used for busting up walls inside, but it didn’t seem to have any scrapes of white paint, like, say, from an expensive car.
“Self-taught. I have a furniture business to keep me busy in the winter.”
The other guy nodded. “Do you have a basement, storage shed, anything like that?”
“Nope. But you’re welcome to poke around the house.”
Fifteen minutes later, the deputy apologized for bothering us and left. He never did explain what it was all about, but since I knew, I didn’t let Rob press for more info. Once the man left, I babbled the whole story, along with an apology. I concluded, “I have no idea who Davies has pissed off, but I hate that you got dragged into this because of me.”
He smiled at me tiredly, then kissed my forehead. “It’s not a big deal. I didn’t do it.”
“Wonder who did.”
That question wasn’t to be answered anytime soon.
Through the rest of July, I got busy with school programming projects and work kept me occupied, too. Rob’s popularity kept increasing, and his furniture orders finally did, too. Not enough for him to quit his job, but enough that he had to start warning people that it might take as long as six weeks to finish and ship their items, not a deal-breaker for most of them, who had their hearts set on owning something Rob made.
Around the first of August, I made up my mind at last. I was excited to tell him, so I let myself in the house after work and cooked dinner. I had food waiting on the table when he got home, along with lit candles and soft music. The house had changed so much since I first saw it last winter. Downstairs, it was mellow, warm and welcoming, evidence of his talent and hard work. That actually gave me an idea for his next vlog; he could give his fangirls a tour while explaining the work he’d done.
“This is a nice surprise,” he said. “Do I have time for a shower?”
“Sure. Make it fast if you can. I have some news.”
“You’ve got me curious. I’ll be back in five minutes.”
By the time he came down, toweling his hair dry, I had steak and potatoes on the table. I sat down across from him, practically wriggling with nerves and excitement. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you asked me back in May.” By his blank look, I needed to give him more context. “At the engagement party?”
“Oh. Right.” A smile formed on his beautiful mouth, and his blue eyes brightened. “You’ve made up your mind?”
“Yeah. If the offer’s still open, I want to move in. My original terms still stand, though. I buy the groceries and pay utilities.”
“Have you told your mom yet?”
“No, I wanted to talk to you first, make sure you still want me here.” I ducked my head, feeling weirdly shy. I’d lived with guys before as roommates, but never like this.
“That’s not even a question, is it?” He tipped my chin up and kissed me.
For a few seconds, I just savored the moment, then the nervous babbling started. “Maybe not. Is this weekend too soon? I’m bringing my bed, the one you built for me, and we can put it in one of the other bedrooms for guests once we finish the floor. But otherwise, I don’t have much furniture. Just clothes and computer stuff.”
“You know, I happen to have a truck. We’ll get you moved, beautiful. Can’t be soon enough for me. I fucking hate sleeping alone.”
“Me, too,” I admitted.
After dinner, I jingled my keys suggestively. “Let’s go for a ride.”
“Where?” Rob was already on the sofa, seeming settled for the night.
“You’ll like this surprise. I hope. Come on, I really want to do this with you.”
That piqued his interest, so he followed me to the car. I drove out to the humane society, hoping this wouldn’t end in an awkward, perplexed silence on his end. I’d already called to make sure they’d be open, so the attendant took us straight back to check out the dogs that were available for adoption. Rob wore an inscrutable expression as she left us to answer the phone.
“Lauren?”
I took a deep breath. “I’ve always wanted a dog, but my mom’s allergic. So I thought...maybe, unless you hate them, we could get one...together.”
If it turned out he loved his hardwood floors too much to risk a dog damaging them, I’d be disappointed, but no big deal, right? Not everyone loved dogs. But they’re just so cute with the big eyes and the furry tummies and the cold noses...come on, Rob. When he was younger, the Conrads had a dog, but after she died of old age, they never replaced her. I seemed to remember him playing with her in the backyard when I was, like, seven. He was quiet, walking along the cages.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Never mind. Moving in together is a big step, and this is too much, it’s a weird idea. Stupid, even. I shouldn’t have—”
“Lauren,” he cut in.
“What?”
“I’m finding the perfect dog for us. You’re very distracting when you act so adorable. So cut it out.”
>
With a smile so broad it almost hurt, I ran to him, and he hugged me. As we stood there, the beagle mix nearby perked up and set her paw against the door. The card on her cage said she was just over a year old, spayed, vaccinated and fully housebroken. I didn’t care about any of that. Her soulful eyes said, Take me home, and I died when she cocked her head, asking silently why we weren’t adopting her already.
“That’s the one,” I said, just as Rob knelt down.
He nodded. “She’s ours. Now we just have to decide what to name her.”
“Happy,” I said instantly. “Because that’s how I feel when I’m with you.”
When the attendant came back, she had to clear her throat three times to get us to stop kissing long enough to sign the papers and pay the fees.
As I carried Happy out to the car, I thought, This is the start of something beautiful.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Both Happy and I settled in nicely.
Rob built a fence in the backyard, which was enormous, and installed a dog door in the kitchen; we got a fancy one with a radio collar, so stray cats and random raccoons couldn’t come in to ransack the cupboards. Given the woods around the house, the latter seemed more likely. The weekend after I moved in, we finished a second bedroom and set it up as an office, where I could work, though I stashed my twin bed in there, as well.
At first it was a little strange, but I got used to coming home here, just like I had the apartment in Michigan. For the first time in my life, I felt like a functioning adult. No wild drinking, and my anxiety attacks flared less. Routine helped, and life with Rob definitely ran on a pattern. He got home from work later than me, so I usually made dinner. He cleaned up, then we snuggled for a while on the couch.
