by Mason, Dana
Once he’s done, he says, “I was only trying to be thoughtful.”
“Word to the wise, Grant. The most thoughtful thing you can do is actually listen to people when they speak to you.” I gesture to the salad. “You haven’t heard anything I’ve said to you since I met you.”
“Of course I have. You don’t need to exaggerate.”
“Really?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “If that’s true, tell me something you’ve learned about me. Anything.”
He stares at me for a second. “I know you’re divorced.”
I want to slap him. Really slap him. “No, Grant. I’m not divorced.”
“You’re still married? You told me you were divorced.”
I shake my head and close my eyes. “No, I didn’t. I would never tell you I’m divorced because it simply isn’t true.”
“So, what then? Just today you told me your ex-husband died. Or was that my imagination too?”
I open my eyes and glare at him. “My husband is dead, Grant. He died. I’m widowed, not divorced.”
He shrugs. “So, then you’re not married.”
I reach to grab my purse off the back of the chair and stand.
“Goodbye, Grant. I hope you enjoy your lunch.”
By the time I reach my car, I’m exhausted, physically and emotionally. I can’t help but second-guess myself. Did I tell him about Tucker? I think back over our friendship and try to remember. Yes, I told him. I’ve told him more than once. It was the reason I wouldn’t go out with him last year. He’d started inviting me out regularly a year ago, but I wasn’t ready. I told him that; I told him exactly why I wasn’t ready to start dating. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I accepted one of his invitations. I shake my head and turn out of the parking space.
There’s no going back now. I may have just burned the bridge, but does it really matter? If a person can’t show enough interest in me to remember that I lost my husband, is it worth the effort of maintaining the relationship?
When I get home, I barely have the energy to get out of the car, so I sit there for a few minutes, wondering how long it’ll be before Drew arrives. As this thought pops into my head, he drives up in a huge Chevy truck with the words “DK Builders” printed across the door.
He hops out and as he strides toward me, my hand drops to my stomach. God, what if I am pregnant with this man’s child? I haven’t even had time to consider how I feel about that, much less how he’s going to feel. I have no idea how I’m going to tell him.
As he approaches my car, I pop the handle.
“Perfect timing,” I say as I lift myself out of the driver’s seat. I grab my work bag and my purse, but Drew quickly takes them from me. My stomach does a little flutter at the reminder of what a gentleman he is. Always so thoughtful. So unlike Grant.
“Thank you,” I mutter when he takes the bags from me. I grip my keys in my right hand as we approach the front door. Then I stop. Damn. I wasn’t expecting company, and I know my house is neglected at best and disastrous at worst. I’ve been so depressed since getting home from Maui, and that reflects on my living space. I know it does. I turn toward him and lean against the door. “I have to tell you something.”
Nothing inside this house screams happy woman, and as soon as he enters, he’s going to know just how bad I’ve been. I’m fighting hard not to frown, but I can’t help it.
He gives me a sincere look, and I can tell he’s trying to help.
“Go ahead. You know you can tell me anything.”
“Do I… and can I?”
“Just because we’re no longer in Maui doesn’t mean I’m a different person.” He gently kisses my lips. “You can tell me anything.”
I’m surprised by the tears that slip from my eyes. I cry so easily these days. What the hell is wrong with me?
“You are starting to scare me. I thought I didn’t need to worry.”
I take a deep breath, and I’m trying with all my might to get myself together, but the words won’t come. I roll my eyes then throw my hands over my face. I’m freaking pathetic. He should run away while he still can.
“Start from the beginning. It’ll help.”
I drop my hands. Looking into his golden eyes, I almost feel like we’re still in paradise. With another deep breath, I say, “My first night alone in Maui I drank every drop of vodka in my minibar and then slept in a lounger on my lanai because I was afraid I’d smell you on my sheets.” My voice dips when I say this last part, and I have to close my eyes because I’m so embarrassed.
He rests a hand on my upper arm. “I was completely miserable too.”
“I stayed drunk until I boarded my flight home,” I added.
He squeezes my arm this time. “You promised me you’d look after yourself when I left.”
With a nod, I whisper, “I know… but there’s more.”
When he doesn’t respond, I rest my head against him, and it feels so good. So comforting… I stay there and enjoy the feel of him for… well, for too long.
After a few minutes, he says, “Do you want to talk about it inside?”
“No.” I vigorously shake my head. “Since I’ve been home, I’ve been a complete mess. Literally. My house has been horribly neglected. Drew, I haven’t even unpacked.”
“Wait!” There’s a hint of humor in his voice. “Are you seriously upset because your house is untidy?”
I nod, and that makes him laugh outright. He rests a finger under my chin and lifts it until we’re eye to eye. “I don’t care what the inside of your home looks like.”
“I just need you to understand, okay? I want you to know that this isn’t me. I’m not a crier. I’m not a messy person. I’m not this person. I’ve just been in a bad place.” I take a deep breath because I need to get this all out of my system before we go inside, but I’m not ready to tell him everything. “Listen, Drew, I told you in Hawaii this was going to be a difficult time for me. I told you I’d be an emotional mess when I returned home. This is why I didn’t want to stay in contact. I didn’t want to drag you down the rabbit hole with me.”
“And I told you I wanted to be there for you. I told you that in Hawaii and it’s still true. I’m not afraid of this. I’m not afraid of the messy side of your life. I understand who you are. Okay? I know enough about you to understand how difficult this is. I knew enough about you yesterday to not give a shit about you being emotional or sad or depressed, or whatever this is. And I certainly don’t give a damn what the inside of your house looks like.”
Twenty
Drew
When she opens the door and we enter the dark house, it takes my eyes a minute to adjust. Emily rushes over to open the blinds in her living room. When she does, I squint at the light shining through. I glance around as she quickly collects some dishes from her coffee table and rushes away with them.
“Just keep your eyes closed for a few minutes, okay?” she blurts from the other room. I do as she says, even though I really don’t care how messy her house is. Although I must admit, she was the exact opposite of messy in Maui. She’s definitely the make your bed every day type of person. Which she proved by making her bed every day before Housekeeping could do it.
I hear her moving around, and after a few minutes, I feel her standing near me, very near. I reach out, and my hands collide with her hips. I grab them and tug her against me.
“You can open your eyes now,” she whispers. I do, and I’m staring into her brilliant blue ones. She’s got a slight smile on her face. “You’re a really good sport. Thank you so much for your patience. If you want to leave now, I’ll understand.”
I laugh as I bracket my arms around her. “Why on earth would I want to do that?”
“Because I’m crazy… if not way too emotional this week.” Her eyes go from amused to apologetic. “I’m sorry.”
I lean in and take her lips with mine. How can I even tear my eyes away from her to look around her house when she’s standing here in front of me�
� here, in the flesh? Fuck, I’m happy about that. I lift my hands to cup the back of her neck as my tongue dips inside her mouth. I want her so much. I grasp her lip between my teeth, wishing I could mark her. Wishing I could prove to everyone, Grant and the rest of the world, that she’s mine. Her arms come around me, and her little fists grip my shirt, and I know she’s feeling exactly the same.
“I’m not sure what you’re worried about, this place looks totally fine.”
She grins. “You haven’t even looked around yet.”
I see all I need to see. Just as I’m about to kiss her again, my phone rings.
“If that isn’t shitty timing, I don’t know what is. I’m sorry.” I release her and glance down to see Celia’s number. “Hello?” I answer.
“Hey, Mr. Whitney, I just wanted to let you know I dropped both kids off at your mom’s house.”
“Yeah, I know. I already stopped by there. Thanks for letting me know though.”
“Oh, okay, great. I’ll see you on Saturday. Enjoy the rest of your week.”
“Thank you, see you, Celia.”
I end the call and look up at Emily, who’s watching me with a hesitant expression. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah… Celia works for me,” I say, feeling guilty.
She closes her eyes. “Am I that obvious?”
“No, I just wanted to let you know.” I point around the house and say, “This is a great place.”
“Thank you, but it’s terribly cluttered. I haven’t done any housework since I’ve been back from vacation. I’ve basically worked nonstop since I got home. I didn’t want to stop because I knew I would just end up feeling sorry for myself.”
“Why?” I ask as I survey her space. The room is decorated in beach tones: blues and greens, with whitewashed wood furniture. In the center of the coffee table is a large round bowl filled with sand and several seashells. There’s a beautiful deep blue chenille blanket draped over the back of her white couch, and all I can think about is how my kids would have the pure white fabric ruined in a matter of hours. Jesus… I have to tell her about them. I cannot put it off much longer.
“Because I was so damn mad at myself for not getting your number.”
“I was pretty mad at you for a few days too, but then I was just missing you.” I walk around a little as I take things in. “What about now, though?”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“Is it safe to assume you regret not staying in contact? Is this chance meeting a good thing for you?” I’m reminded of the card and note I hid in her suitcase. I guess she hasn’t found it yet, since she hasn’t even unpacked.
“It’s perfect,” she says, smiling. “I’m so happy to see you. I’m so relieved. Not getting your information was quickly becoming one of my biggest regrets in life.”
I smile at her. “I hate to say I told you so, but…”
She laughs at that and I’m happy to see her relax a little.
I take a few steps toward the mantel to look at the framed snapshots displayed. There’s a shot of her on the beach with a man, and they’re both wearing wetsuits. “Where was this taken?” I say as I point to the photo.
Her shoulders drop. “Huntington Beach.” She exhales a long and slow breath. Then she shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. You already agreed I can have today without”—she pushes her hands out—“Everything else.”
“Right. Sorry.” I watch her for a moment, then my brows furrow. “Can you tell me why you don’t want to… share things yet?” I gesture between us and say, “I can’t help but feel like you’re hiding something important.” When I finish saying this, I have to wonder if it’s my own guilty conscience talking.
“No… no bombshells.” She bites the inside of her mouth and that makes me question whether she’s telling the truth. Either way, I’d rather get to spend some time with her before dropping my bombshell too so I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “I just don’t want to worry about anything today. I think it’s a good idea to enjoy each other and get reacquainted before bringing real life into this.”
I know she’s trying hard to be light-hearted, but there’s clearly something on her mind. Something heavy. I make a mental note to ask her properly about it when the time’s right.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“I’m fine. You don’t have to worry.” She drops down into an armchair, then bends forward to unbuckle her shoes. “If I’m being honest, Drew, I’ve been so wound up the last couple of weeks. You have a way of calming me. I realize it wasn’t Maui that mellowed me, it was you. You just have a way of relaxing me.” Once her shoes are off, she sits upright. “I need that so bad today.”
“Listen, Emily, there is something we need to talk about.”
She glances up at me, and I can see the reluctance in her expression.
“It’s not… anything off-limits, I promise. I just want you to know I’m here, okay?” I sit down across from her and lean forward, taking her hand. I know what she’s going through, I’ve been there, and I just want to be there for her now. “Whatever is happening with you today, I’m here without hesitation and without a bunch of questions and without judgment.”
She nods but doesn’t speak so I push forward. “I guess I just want you to know that if you’re worried about me, don’t be.” I rest my hand on my chest and say, “I don’t have any deal-breakers. I can’t think of one thing you could tell me that would keep me from wanting this.”
Her blue eyes are intense, and it’s as if I can see her thoughts turning in her head and I sense a tremor pass through her. Proof that she’s seriously worried about something.
“I mean that, so stop, okay? We have plenty of time to learn each other’s stuff, good and bad.” As I say this, I realize that our pact in Maui wasn’t such a bad thing. It gave us leave to enjoy each other without the outside world getting in the way. I guess it was both a blessing and a curse, but I can understand why she wants to enjoy the anonymity for another day.
She rests back in her chair. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop that too. Do not apologize again.”
“Okay,” she whispers. “Thank you for being here. Did you get some lunch?”
“I stopped by my mom’s place on my way to the office and had a sandwich. How about you?”
“Not a bite.”
“Wait, you haven’t had lunch?”
“No, I didn’t eat.”
I stand and walk toward her kitchen. “Let me fix you something.”
“Oh!” She jumps to her feet and follows me. “Wait! Um… the kitchen hasn’t been cleaned.”
I click the light switch and look around, then I turn toward her in mock horror.
“Oh my God, what a slob.”
She laughs at my exaggerated expression and lightly stomps her foot. “Don’t tease me.”
I open the fridge and now I really am horrified. “Emily, your fridge is nearly empty.”
“I also haven’t been shopping since I got back.”
I grab the carton of eggs and I’m relieved to see she has three left. “How about an omelet?”
“You don’t have to—”
“An omelet it is,” I say, cutting her off. “And I know you like eggs since I’ve had breakfast with you a few times.”
“Yes, smartass, that’s a safe assumption… and thank you.”
Emily’s kitchen is galley-style, with a long island in the middle, dividing it from her small dining room. She sits on a stool across the bar from me as I whisk together the eggs.
“So, what happened with Grant? I thought you were having lunch with him.”
“Oh, I met him, I just didn’t stay to eat.”
I suck air through my teeth. “It went that badly, huh?”
“The man doesn’t hear a word I say. I literally had to get angry for him to pay attention.” She locks her hands in front of her. “At first, I felt bad about it. I didn’t want to end the friendship, but then I realize
d there wasn’t really a friendship at all. If the guy cared about me at all, he’d have listened when I told him I’d lost my husband. At the very least he should have heard me when I explained the most painful event of my life.”
“I completely agree.”
When I turn to glance at her, she narrows her eyes at me. “How do you know Grant?”
“We’ve worked on projects together. The first was about five years ago.” I turn back toward the stove, then say, “I’m not sure I understand exactly what happened with you two. You went out with him a couple of times, but that’s it?”
“Yes, exactly. I met him last year when I represented his firm. We stayed in contact mostly because we run in the same circles. The week before my vacation, Bec and I met with him about the remodel on our building. He was very nice, very generous. He could have done the design himself, through his architecture firm, and charged us an arm and a leg, but he very graciously offered to help us find a more affordable contractor who could do the design and construction. After our meeting, he asked me out for drinks, and I accepted. He actually asked me out for the first time over a year ago, and that’s when I told him about my husband’s death. Back then, I explained that I didn’t think I was ready to date.”
“Wow. This morning he acted like he’d never heard that before.”
“I don’t know if it’s because I’m a woman, or because he’s just too damn arrogant to listen to other people in the room… I really don’t know, but after the second date, I knew it wasn’t happening. As a matter of fact, when I left for Hawaii, I didn’t tell him I was going on vacation. I asked Bec to tell him I was on a business trip.”
I grin at her. “Gee, Emily, you didn’t want to spend the week with him at his condo in Maui?”
She drops her head back with a groan. “My God, you’ve heard about the condo too?”
“Oh, yeah, he manages to bring it up in almost every conversation.”