by Leddy Harper
Even if I did have something else to say, it wouldn’t have mattered because he didn’t offer me the chance to respond. In fact, he didn’t even say goodbye. He opened the door, stepped outside, and then swiftly closed it behind him. Had I not heard the deadbolt engage, I would’ve assumed he didn’t even stop in his hasty retreat.
There was something about the silence in his absence that felt cold and unwelcoming. Maybe it was the fact he acted like he couldn’t get out of here fast enough, like he couldn’t wait to make his escape from me. It made no sense, considering my being here was his choice in the first place. No…not a choice, a demand. One I had no voice in.
Finding my inner strength, I headed back to my bedroom to unpack, and I didn’t stop until I had everything put away in its new place. I tried every trick in the book to keep myself from watching the time, but that didn’t stop me from noting the fading sunlight through the windows, or the streetlights turning on.
I’d taken a bath and stayed in until the water cooled, yet when I got out, Holden still wasn’t home. I poured a glass of wine and sipped it while flipping through the channels in the living room. I figured this way, when he walked through the front door, it wouldn’t look as though I had waited up for him. Except when I’d finished the wine—sipping the entire bottle—he still wasn’t home. The clock above the cable box read a quarter after eleven, and I couldn’t imagine the kind of desk job that would keep someone there that late.
Then I began to wonder if he was still at work or had gone out to avoid coming home, to avoid seeing me. Maybe he was with a woman. Well, it didn’t take long to realize I despised that thought. I absolutely hated the images it produced. I wanted nothing more than to call his direct line, eager to catch him in a lie—then again, I knew that would do no good. I didn’t have room to be jealous; not to mention, there wasn’t anything I could’ve done about it. He was a grown man, capable of doing whatever he pleased.
I did know one thing for sure, though.
If he was out sleeping with someone, I certainly didn’t want to be waiting up for him when he got home.
I had no idea what time Holden finally arrived home last night, because it was after I’d gone to bed. And by the time I got up this morning, he’d already left for work. Then I started to wonder if he’d come home at all. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the whole situation, but things didn’t seem as bad after a good night’s sleep. If this was how our lives would be for the next six months, I would have no problem getting through it. Honestly, I had no idea what I had been so upset about last night. The less I had to deal with Holden, the better off things would be.
Initially, I’d planned on being with Holden when I broke the news to my parents that I was back in town, though I had made other living arrangements, but considering I hadn’t seen him in the past twenty-four hours and he’d been evasive regarding his schedule, I decided not to wait on him.
“Holden? You’re living with Holden York?” My mother’s voice rose higher each time she said his name, as if he were some Hollywood billionaire and the news of us living together temporarily was so farfetched she had a hard time believing it. “How did that come about?”
Luckily, I’d anticipated these questions and had come up with a very plausible story. “We were talking one day, catching up and whatnot, and I just happened to mention my plans to move back home now that I’ve graduated. I told him I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of moving back in with you and Dad—no offense, Mom, but no twenty-three-year-old college graduate wants to move back in with her parents. I said something about possibly asking Christine and Matt if I could rent a room until I was on my feet with a job and had enough money for my own place, and that’s when Holden said he had extra space. It made more sense than living with my brother and his wife. At least with Holden, there’s only two of us there, not three.”
“I’ve always wished you two would date. He’s such a good guy. So handsome and polite, and he seems like the genuine type who’d treat a girl the way she deserves to be treated. I’ve never seen him with anyone before, but I can just tell. In fact, back when the boys were in high school, I wondered a few times if maybe they were a little more than friends.”
“Mom!” It didn’t matter what her suspicions were or why she had them, I didn’t want to hear about it. “You have the worst habit of seeing a palm tree in the middle of a glacier.”
“Oh, Jelly. That doesn’t even make sense.”
I blinked dramatically, wondering to myself for the umpteenth time what the chances were that I’d been adopted or found in a basket on their front porch. “It makes tons of sense. You see things that aren’t there, yet you run with it. Matt and Holden—especially Holden—entertained quite a few members of the female population. Here. In your house. While you were asleep.”
“What?” She covered her chest with her hand and gaped at me with unadulterated shock painting her features. “How do you know this?”
“I was thirteen, not three. How did you not know about it? You knew they went out back because you constantly had to get on them for not locking the door when they came inside.”
“Yeah…I thought they were trying to find some privacy. Had I known they were entertaining girls, I never would’ve allowed that to happen.”
I held up my hand to keep her from interjecting before I could finish. “So when you assumed they were…together for all intents and purposes, you had no qualms about them sneaking off to do whatever in the back yard after dark. Yet if you would’ve known they were sneaking off to get freaky with the opposite sex, you would’ve put an end to it?”
“When you say it like that, you make it sound wrong. Although, at the time, I assumed he might’ve been having a hard time coming out of the closet, and I didn’t want to make it harder for him. So I figured I was giving them space to be who they were really meant to be.”
“You did acid in the sixties, didn’t you? That’s the only explanation. Lots and lots of acid.”
Mom waved me off and shook her head. “You’re getting off track, Jelly. Let’s get back to you living with Holden. I wasn’t aware you two still spoke to each other. I know you guys used to be close before you left for college, although I guess I assumed that stopped after you moved away.”
Holden had made me swear on the unknown name of my potential firstborn child that I wouldn’t pry into whatever my family had kept from me. I figured it was because he’d made the whole thing up. Regardless, I kept my promise—as odd of a promise as that was.
“Well, I mean, yeah…we didn’t exactly stay in touch or remain as close as we once were, but that kind of thing happens all the time. He’s four years older than I am, so our lives were in completely different places—he’d just graduated from college, and I was getting ready to attend one. He was getting settled in, ready to start his career, bought a house. What was I doing? Packing up my childhood belongings and moving away…not to start a career or buy a house, but to go to school. So I guess we just didn’t really have anything to talk about or have enough in common.” I knew I had to stop talking before my emotions bubbled to the surface. Apparently, discussing that time in my life, especially regarding Holden, was too difficult and left my voice quivering and the backs of my eyes burning with unshed tears.
“Well, I’m just happy you two have found common ground again. You should really spend a lot of time with him while you’re there. He used to look at you like you could spin straw into gold.”
“Ma…that’s Rumpelstiltskin. No one looks at anyone like they’re Rumpelstiltskin, especially if they like them—that’s just worrisome. It’s even more concerning that you would connect that with something romantic,” I added beneath my breath.
“You know what I mean.”
“If you mean he looked at me like I hung the moon, then yeah, I do know what you mean, although I disagree. I don’t ever recall him looking at me that way.”
“Jelly, it’s a physical impossibility to hang the moon.”
�
��Yet, it’s somehow totally plausible to spin straw into gold? As entertaining as this visit has been, I think it’s about time I head out. But plan on an extra setting for dinner on Sunday. I’ve heard all about your weekly meals and how everyone attends.”
“Oh, absolutely! I’m so happy to have my baby back. Now I will finally have all my children around the same table again.” Her eyes glistened with happy tears seconds before she wrapped me up in one of her emotional hugs. To be honest, I’d missed this—the raw form of unconditional love. When it came to my mom, there was no way to misinterpret it. She wore her heart on her sleeve with pride, and there wasn’t a single person who didn’t know beyond the shadow of a doubt how much she loved her kids. All of us, including the late additions and strays.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, baby.”
Holden stood in the kitchen with the refrigerator door open, his head stuck inside. “Did you not make anything to eat for dinner?” he called out without even bothering to turn his head to the side.
Luckily for him, I was in the hallway behind him. “No. I ate leftovers from lunch. I wasn’t sure what time you were going to get home.” Granted, even if I had known what time he’d be home, I still wouldn’t have made dinner.
I finished putting in my gold hoop earrings just as he straightened and found me next to him. “What are you all dressed up for?”
“I ran into some friends from high school, and they invited me out tonight. It sounded like fun so I figured…why not?”
Something flashed in his eyes and it immediately set loose a flurry of uneasiness in my stomach. “Great, give me a few minutes to change my clothes and we can go.”
My stomach flipped with excitement—and that’s when I knew I’d never survive it if he came along with me. I had to remain strong. Even though it seemed innocent enough, I knew it never would be. Spending time with Holden would only give him another chance to break my heart, and I couldn’t afford that. I’d loved him once before, and he never returned the sentiment. Doing it a second time would be foolish.
“Uh, Holden…I don’t mean to sound like a bitch, but they invited me. Not us. Not to mention, we’re not a couple. This definitely wasn’t part of the agreement.” It’d been three days since I’d officially moved in. I didn’t see him the entire first day, saw him briefly after he came home from work on the second day, and assumed today would’ve been the same routine. Although Holden wouldn’t be Holden if he didn’t throw a monkey wrench into my plans.
For a split second, he looked almost pissed off, but it disappeared just as fast as it came on. “You may have told your family and friends that we’re just roommates and I’m this good guy who’s helping you get on your feet after college, except that’s not the deal we made. You’re my wife.”
“Yeah, yeah…I remember that part. You don’t have to remind me all the time. But there’s nothing on our printed agreement that mentions tagging along with me and my friends. And stop calling me your wife—it’s a technicality.”
“It’s a legality. Regardless of that, what makes you think I’d be okay sitting at home by myself on a Friday night while you go out with a group of people? How does that make any sense?”
Rather than argue, I kicked off my shoes and carried them back to my room, Holden following close behind. He stood in the hall, gripping the frame and leaning his chest forward as if the doorway was responsible for holding him back.
“I don’t want a roommate, Janelle.”
“Well, I don’t want a husband, Holden.” I spat his name like it tasted foul and bitter. “You never said I couldn’t go out with friends. It’s not a date, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
His posture melted before my eyes, and instead of the lion stalking his prey, the man before me resembled more of a beaten-down housecat. His eyes, dark and almost all slate-grey with hardly any noticeable green to them, lost the spark of fight they held a moment ago. And his normally adorable chiseled cheeks just looked pathetic. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I brought this up. I guess I hoped we could rebuild our friendship, but it seems you put more effort into marrying a total stranger for money than you do dealing with the husband you’ve already got.”
He almost had me. Had he not completed his thought, I might’ve been putty in his hands. However, he just had to throw the fact he was my husband in my face like I had anything to do with it—well, more so than the obvious. “You’re such a jackass. You know that? I’ve already told you I have no interest in this marriage. Rebuilding a relationship with you? Sure. You got it. You want us to be friends again like we used to be? Then maybe you should start treating me like you used to—you know, like a friend, not a prisoner, not someone you’re forcing to be your wife. This is going to be one long half a year if this is how you plan on treating me.”
“No one’s making you a prisoner. You can go out. I just want to go, too.”
“With you as my babysitter? No thank you. I’d rather stay in.”
A shadow deepened at the corners of his smile, just enough to bring attention to the humor he found in this situation. “Then that means you’re the prison guard. Not me. But now that we’re staying in, let me get changed out of these clothes, and I’ll meet you on the couch.”
“For what?” I stared at him unblinkingly.
“To watch TV. Your pick. Movie, binge on a show, or just flip through the channels like you used to do. I don’t care. I’ve got some cold drinks in the fridge, and I can order pizza or whatever you like.” No longer did he show any signs of the controlling “husband” or the downtrodden friend. He seemed almost giddy at the prospect of sitting on the couch all night watching whatever and stuffing our faces with shit. We’d only ever done that a few times in the past, all of which were during the weeks following my breakup with Justin.
The entire situation confused me. It was so difficult to understand how sincere he really was, and when he looked at me like he just did, it made it harder to remember that I didn’t want to be here. Not in his house, not as his wife, and sometimes, not even as his friend. I had to close my eyes and remember the way it felt to sit on a plane, next to an empty seat, and fly home alone…after having sex. I had to remind myself how degraded he made me feel that entire summer, when he treated me like some random hookup he tried to avoid.
I remained still while he walked away from the bedroom, and then I waited to hear the familiar sound of his bedroom door closing across the house. Feeling smug, I carried my shoes to the front door, slipped them on, and then quietly snuck out. If he wanted to watch TV and gorge on pizza, then he’d have to do it by himself.
Holden was about to learn that I wasn’t interested in his games.
5
Holden
I hated playing these games, but Janelle didn’t leave me much of a choice. I knew her motive was to get under my skin so I’d kick her out sooner. Little did she know, I could tolerate a lot. More than she could fathom. And no matter how I felt about her, or what feelings I’d had for her long ago, I didn’t ask her to stay here for me. This had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the family she’d turned her back on. The same people who had taken me in when I was a kid and held onto me. I’d do almost anything for them, and I knew how much it would mean to every single member of the Brewer family if they had her back.
Killing her with kindness didn’t work.
So now I had to try something else.
When she finally came out of her bedroom the next morning, I was at the kitchen table, finishing up my breakfast and cup of coffee. She hesitated as she entered the room, her eye contact intermittent and full of doubt. I knew right away she either felt bad for her actions, or she was still half asleep. Either way, she lacked the haughty attitude I expected her to have. Rather than rub last night in my face, she awkwardly hung around, almost waiting for me to make the first move.
“Morning. I didn’t hear you come in last night.” Such a lie, but I wasn’t about t
o let her know I’d laid in bed and stared at the ceiling fan spinning ’round and ’round until I knew she was safely inside. “Did you have fun? I hope you didn’t drink and drive.”
“I had a blast. Hadn’t seen them in a while, so it was nice to catch up. And no. I didn’t have much to drink. I was good to drive home. What did you end up doing?” She grabbed a can of soda from the fridge and leaned against the counter, making it impossible to notice anything other than her long legs peeking out from beneath her cotton sleep shorts. So creamy and soft…and long.
It seemed this woman could torture me without even realizing it.
Doing my best to ignore her and all her first-thing-in-the-morning glory, I carried my empty fruit bowl to the sink. But as it turned out, washing a dish didn’t stop me from thinking of the way her hard nipples showed through her thin T-shirt. Before I could chance speaking, I had to clear my throat; otherwise, I would’ve sounded like I was twelve all over again. “I watched a movie and made a few calls.”
“Let me guess…work calls?”
I dried my hands and turned to face her, reminding myself to keep my eyes above her neck. Except, doing that only made me take notice of her hair, which she wore in some sexy, sloppy bun on top of her head with pieces falling out to frame her clean, fresh face. Damn…she really did just get out of bed. And that thought only made me think of what she looked like when she slept—which I had firsthand knowledge of.