Chapter 14
It was the middle of the night when Lisa and AJ boarded the first of the two planes back to Alabama, an odd hour to travel, but the plane was busier than she expected. They had, as he’d predicted, ticked everything off her list, and while her feet hurt, she was happy. He lifted the arm rest separating their seats and tentatively slipped his arm around her. She obliged and rested her head on his shoulder.
He kissed her forehead and whispered, “I am really sorry, you know.”
She nodded, “I know.”
“And I really do love you.”
She nodded again and breathed him in.
“I know you probably doubt that right now, but I do. Someday you’ll believe me, and until that day comes, I’m going to make sure you have no other reasons to doubt it.”
When she woke up, they were still flying.
“Are we there yet?” she whispered, smiling.
“About another hour to Chicago,” he replied.
“Didn’t you sleep?” she was concerned.
He shook his head. She could see the worry on his face. The fear, panic, uncertainty. She could see the pain in his eyes, the pain from lying to her, the pain from her up and leaving him in the blink of an eye.
Good, she thought. That’s how it’s supposed to be. He should feel guilty for lying to me, she reassured herself. You have no reason to feel guilty for how he’s feeling, Lisa!
She smiled slightly at him and leaned in to kiss him gently; he returned her smile and gave her a hug.
“Things will be ok, AJ,” she told him, “I just need time to process it all, and to bitch to Chelsea about how shitty you are. Obviously.” She squeezed his hand gently.
He laughed, “Obviously. Well, you’re well within your rights to bitch. I deserve it.”
“Yes. You do.”
He knew he’d screwed up, and badly. She could see that at this very moment, he had no idea if it was even truly fixable even though she said it would be, much less how to go about trying to fix it. He was clearly convinced the trust she’d placed in him was now pretty much irreparably fractured. It pained her to know that he was in pain.
After they landed, they went straight to his place and promptly fell asleep. It had been a long night, a long week in fact, and emotional and physical exhaustion consumed them both.
Chapter 15
“Wake up, Irish!” Lisa felt the whack of a pillow thump her back.
“OI!” she grumbled loudly. “Go away!” She pulled the quilt up over her head.
Another pillow smacked her.
Count to ten, she told herself. 1…2…3
Another pillow.
Screw counting.
“AGH! What do you WANT?” She glared as she sat up. Glancing at the bed beside her, she realized AJ was gone. There was a note on the pillow alongside a beautiful rose.
“Nice touch,” she muttered wondering where the hell he’d gotten a rose from during the night as she turned her attention back to her friend, “well?”
“Read the damn note, grumpy smurf. Then get your ass outta that bed,” Chelsea chastised, “and don’t give me that look!”
“What time is it?” she grumbled.
“Noon – get your ass up!”
Another pillow.
“WHERE THE HELL DID ALL THESE PILLOWS COME FROM?” she yelled at her friend, who was already in the kitchen. She could hear Chelsea laughing as she banged the cupboard doors.
She turned her attention back to the note.
Good morning, Babe,
Sorry to run off and leave you. You looked so beautifully peaceful lying there that I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. I left that to Chelsea – I hope she was gentle with you.
My parents were meant to be in town for a fundraiser this weekend but now they can’t make it. They’ve sent us their tickets instead. Mom’s on the board of the charity, and she’d rather not leave empty seats at the table. Chelsea tells me you have nothing to wear, and since I have errands and a lot of groveling to do at hockey practice, I figured I’d leave you girls to go shopping. It’s a gala ball or something, so it’s all coats and ties. Should be fun.
I’ll pick you up at seven, have fun shopping – treat yourself, you deserve it!
Love always,
Your AJ x
She stared at his credit card in her hands. He knew she wasn’t one for splurging, especially on herself. He also knew that she was not likely to use his money to buy herself something either. They’d had this argument many times over the last seven months, usually when he’d sent her something for no reason, or offered to pay for something. He really was pretty traditional in a lot of ways.
She’d laughed at his frustrating double standard that it was ok for him to pay for her things, but not vice-versa. He never gave up, though. Despite her protests, he continued to offer, knowing perfectly well that she’d likely never be completely comfortable with it, but living in hope that she’d come around, at least a little. She was amused at his persistence. He really can’t help himself.
All the same, she was touched by his obvious care for her. Maybe ‘cause it’s a last-minute thing and he feels he should cover the unexpected cost?
She couldn’t remember a time when she had dressed so quickly in all her life. They were out the door in ten minutes and, as she climbed into the car, she started to eat her Panera Bread bagel. Chelsea knew her so well she’d arrived at AJ’s with Lisa’s favorite breakfast in her bag.
“You need a dress.” Her friend told her simply.
“But I don’t do dresses,” she replied. “I guess I’m just not that much of a girl!”
“Don’t gimme that crap. It’s a ball, you’re wearing a dress.”
“But…I...” Realizing Chelsea was wearing her “don’t fight with me” face, she finished her bagel and didn’t argue.
Sure, Lisa was great at choosing a t-shirt for any occasion and she had about ten pairs of the same jeans in her closet. She had “College Girl” down to a fine art. But she acknowledged she was going to need her friend's help finding something to wear to a ball. Chelsea loved dressing up. She often coaxed Lisa into trying things she would never normally try on, let alone wear. Lisa knew that Chelsea’s eye for fashion was far superior to her own and she really wanted to look good tonight.
It took them four hours to find a dress. Just as Lisa was about to give up, she spotted it. A beautiful, strapless dress, made from scarlet silk. Lisa couldn’t help but feel a small surge of pride that it wasn’t Chelsea who’d found it. She’d found it herself. Despite red not really being her color, it was love at first sight!
“That’s it!” she exclaimed triumphantly.
“What is?” her friend asked, tired and burnt out by all the dresses. Lisa must have tried on three hundred different dresses over the course of the day, or at least it sure as hell felt like it. In Chelsea's opinion they'd found a good dress many, many times. But Lisa hated each and every one of them. Too short, too long, too tight, too loose, too “blah”. What the heck even was “Too blah” anyway? Chelsea had demanded.
Picking the dress off the rail, Lisa hurried towards the changing room. The store was one of those trendy boutique types that only opened for a few hours every day, and only when Mercury was in retrograde or there was a supermoon. It was closing soon, and she still needed shoes and accessories. That would leave her just enough time to get ready.
“This is it!” she said as she emerged from the changing room. It was a bodice style dress: strapless, with a boned corset, detailed with delicate black stitching of a flower down the side. It pulled in slightly at her waist and then dropped to the floor. It didn’t cling to her squidgy bits, and there was a thin layer of netting that made it sit out ever so slightly. It was simple but gorgeous. Just conservative enough, but still beautiful. She loved it. She spun around, the dress flaring as she did.
“Well?” she asked hopefully.
“It’s…uh – wow!” Her friend was grinning, “That’s g
orgeous!”
“Go look for a pair of red ballet slippers, size seven,” Lisa told her.
“Wait!” she exclaimed as her friend turned to leave. “That’s a nine in American! I’ll take this off and pay for it. I’ll meet you at the door?”
“Ballet slippers?” her friend wore a puzzled expression.
“Not actual ballet slippers. What do you guys call them? Pumps? Flats? Flats. I don’t do heels, and if I’m going to a princess ball, I want to be able to walk! I don’t want to fall on my face, do I? Plus, no one will be able to see them under my dress. They won’t know! GO!” she urged staring into her friend’s you really should wear heels unconvinced face.
“Go!”
“Sheesh! I’m goin’! I’m goin’! But I’m sure as hell not getting you flats with that dress!”
En route to the counter, Lisa found a shawl to match her dress. It was black with the same flower embroidered in red, and she found a clutch too. Grabbing them both she headed for the checkout to pay for her purchases. Lisa was feeling rather proud of herself, yet, at the same time, a little concerned and overwhelmed. It was a dress. She really didn’t wear dresses. Ever. At all. Nor did she wear heels.
I’m wearing a dress, sure, but I’ll only conform so far, she thought, smiling at the flats she’d picked up, despite Chelsea bringing her three pairs of heels to choose from.
Am I really going to a freakin’ ball with AJ?
Well. This will certainly be an experience, she thought as her stomach did a nervous flip.
What the hell do I tell people? I’m his friend? I’m his friend. That’s what I’ll say. Note to self: ask AJ what the hell to say at the ball if people ask where his wife is and who the hell I am!
Standing at the checkout she had to decide whose card to use. In the end, she opted to pay for everything – except the shawl – herself. She knew that while it would be fine to let him pay for everything, she just wouldn't feel comfortable doing so. She also knew that he'd get pleasure out of buying her something, so she bought the shawl on his card, as it was the most “gift-like” purchase of the pile. She couldn’t really imagine him going out and buying her a dress or shoes.
Minutes later they were standing at the exit of the boutique.
“Dress? Check. Shoes? Check. Shawl? Check. Shit! I need a necklace!”
“No, you don’t,” Chelsea countered. “We don’t have time!”
“You’re right, I’ll just wear something I have in my case, or something you have.”
“I don’t have anything to match that!” she exclaimed, adding, “I mean, you could check of course, but I don’t think I do. Come on, quickly – we need to beat traffic!”
They raced back to their hotel. Lisa had a shower, turned on some music and carefully wrapped the large curlers that Chelsea had brought, into her hair. She stepped into her dress – time was starting to get away from her.
Popping on her shoes, she hummed along with the music and dried her hair with the curlers in. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was almost seven!
It’s ok, she told herself, you can do this. You have ten minutes, you just need to finish your hair, throw on some make-up and you’ll be fine. Plenty of time. Don’t panic. Plus, girls are supposed to be late!
Tucking a towel around the top of her dress and spreading another across her lap, she dabbed the slightest bit of foundation on her face, with a little blush on her cheeks. She was pale by nature. People from Alabama could have a year-round tan if they wanted, but the Irish tend to be pale.
Or varying shades of lobster. I mean, it is Ireland, she thought, amused. Our summer consists of a week of high twenties and we think it’s amazing! What’s that in American? Is it even seventy? Man, that’s depressing.
Her makeup wasn’t too dark, but gave her a little color and a slight glow. Using her finger, she smudged on some natural-toned eye shadow, painted on a smidge of lip gloss and smacked her lips together loudly.
I wish I’d learned how to apply make-up properly at some point. But time was almost up and she needed to be done. Don’t forget to ask AJ what the party-line is before you leave!
Chapter 16
Pink was on the radio. Lisa stood singing as she teased the curlers out of her hair and let the loose curls hang lightly on her shoulders. Standing up, she took the towels away. She shook her head slightly to loosen the curls a bit, spritzed herself with her favorite perfume and looked herself over in the mirror one last time.
“Lookin’ good, Irish,” Chelsea grinned.
“Thanks Iowa,” she said, her voice shaking ever so slightly. “Even with my bare neck?” She felt somewhat naked, but nothing she had with her, worked with what she was wearing.
“He’s here,” Chelsea replied, ignoring Lisa’s question, “waiting downstairs.”
“Ok,” she said, pulling her shawl around her shoulders, grabbing her clutch and giving her friend a quick hug. She walked to the door of their hotel room, took a deep breath, patted down her dress and took the elevator to the lobby. A little girl loudly declared she looked like a princess as she walked to the main entrance. It made her smile despite her nerves. The concierge tipped his hat as he opened the door for her. Then she saw him. Her smile widened. He was about half-way down the steps, leaning on the handrail holding a corsage in his hand. How very senior prom of you, AJ, she thought, smiling as she started down the stairs. He was wearing a tux.
You are so freakin’ delicious, she thought as she started chewing the inside of her cheek. Just when she was contemplating making a run for it back to the hotel room, he turned and saw her.
That smile could light up the Empire State Building. She sighed dreamily. I constantly feel like a blethering teenager around this boy.
He ran up the remaining steps to meet her, taking them two at a time – to take her hand and lead her to the car. What a gent. She almost expected him to fall flat on his face as he climbed the stairs – like her, the boy was pretty accident prone so it was hardly out of the realm of possibility. As long as he doesn’t take me out when he falls. She struggled to suppress her giggle.
“Hey,” he said kissing her cheek.
“Hey,” she said returning his kiss.
It felt like a jolt of electricity through her body.
She’d expected a town car, but instead, he had a limo. It was gorgeous. The driver stood with the door open for her.
“You look…wow. You look beautiful, Lisa,” he exclaimed.
“You don’t scrub up too badly yourself, Pim.” She grinned at him and started to get into the car.
“Hold up!” he stopped her, grabbing her arm gently. “I have something for you.” First, he put on her corsage, then he turned her to face away from him and he moved her hair gently to the side. She felt something cold against her skin.
A necklace? That’s why Chelsea wouldn’t let her go buy one! She knew! she thought. What a sneak!
He closed the clasp and she shook her hair back into place as she admired the necklace hanging around her neck. She smiled when she recognized what he had given to her. It was a hockey necklace, the logo of her home team, the Belfast Giants. She had never seen one before, did they even exist?
Well apparently, they do. She mused. Either that, or he had it made for me and is using tonight as a reason to give it to me. She wasn’t going to question it. It was beautiful, delicate, and it was unusual. Thoughtful and creative.
“Read the inscription,” he told her softly, breaking her thoughts.
Turning it over, she read,
Keep your stick on the ice.
<3 AJ.
Don’t cry! she told herself, feeling a lump rise in her throat. Don’t cry.
Keeping your stick on the ice was a pretty famous hockey expression, it’s a fast game - and takes only a fraction of a second to score a goal, so it’s important to always be ready. Where your stick is when the puck comes your way could easily make the difference between a win and a loss. They had bonded over their mutual love of hocke
y in the early days of their relationship, but in difficult moments throughout their time together, he’d told her to keep her stick on the ice. Reminding her to stay focused and prepared, in case of that lucky bounce or deflection that would help bring her out of whatever quicksand she felt that she was in and back on to solid ground. The necklace would serve as a daily reminder to keep herself grounded.
“It’s beautiful,” she managed, turning to face him. Their eyes met, “thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” he blushed.
“Hey, you two?”
Chelsea called them from the bottom of the steps. They turned to face her.
“Say cheeeeeese!” she called.
Slipping his arm around her waist, he pulled her close to him, and they turned to face the camera.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
“You’re like the freakin’ paparazzi!” she told her snap-happy friend.
“You kids go have fun,” she told them. “And be good!” she added mischievously. “And if you can’t be good? Be careful!”
“You really do look beautiful, Lis,” he told her quietly as he took her hand and interlocked his fingers with hers.
Chapter 17
The gala was held in some fancy hotel downtown. Lisa’s heart was pounding and she had goosebumps as she walked into the banquet hall. The only person she knew, in this room of three hundred people was AJ, but he seemed to know everyone. She was nervously excited.
With AJ and Britt being married, she didn’t think she’d have the chance to experience much of his “outside” life for a very long time. She’d adjusted her expectations when he’d told her the truth. They couldn’t behave like a regular couple; and they couldn’t do regular couple things in public. Those new expectations had been up-ended, and she was now back to feeling confused. While the hockey team and his closest friends all knew the truth about his marriage, she was certain his parents’ friends and the rest of the world shouldn’t know that it was just a front. Not everyone would understand.
Intimate Strangers (The Lisa Millar Series Book 1) Page 9