Notes on His Pillow

by Diana Currie

  “You still want to take the kids Saturday to your parents’ house, right?” I ask at the door.

  “Yeah, my mom wants to bake cookies with them,” he answers smiling.

  “They’ll love that,” I assure him. “See you Saturday morning then.”

  “See ya,” he replies quickly kissing the side of my head and walking out the front door.

  Rebecca and Brett leave together at 11 o'clock. I might have been given the day off tomorrow but I’ll have no chance of sleeping in with the kids in the house. Tyler has been good lately about getting himself a cup of milk and watching TV in the morning if he wakes up first, but Gabby still calls out for me or climbs into my bed and wakes me up by jumping on me. My children can be frustrating sometimes, but I doubt if I'll ever have another baby, so it feels like they are growing up way too fast.

  I tiptoe into each of their rooms and check on them. Tommy used to tease me because I never gave up my routine of checking to make sure the kids are breathing before I go to sleep myself, just like I did when they were infants. Both are sleeping peacefully; I tug the sheets up around Tyler's belly and tuck them in tighter. He always kicks them off during the night.

  As I lay in my own queen sized bed that feels enormous now that there's no one to share it with, I think about the way I described Adam to my friends earlier. I never talk about men that way. The last time I told my friends about having a crush on a boy we were in high school and the boy was Tommy. Worse yet, is that I didn't even tell Rebecca and Brett the whole truth, purposely downplaying my feelings for Adam. I don't have a simple crush on a boy like I once experienced as a teenager. What I actually am is infatuated, and I'm too ashamed to admit having sexual feelings for Adam Brickman after only two days that are stronger than I ever felt for my husband.

  What is so different about this man? I think it is the way he looks at me, like I tried to explain to Becca. Adam looks at me like I'm interesting. I don't understand why he would, but I feel important when I'm near him. I'm not "Mandy" to him, or the girl who runs the Thatcher B&B. Adam doesn't see me as the pastor's daughter who married too young and ruined her life. Adam has no preexisting opinions of me and I think what I see in his eyes is curiosity. He doesn’t know anything about me and I like that.

  Regardless of the intensity behind these new feelings I still feel the necessity to suppress them. It’s an infatuation, plain and simple. How could it be anything more when I barely know the guy? I laugh at myself for thinking any feelings I have for Adam Brickman could be anything more than physical. The new pediatrician is downright godly in his appearance and friendlier than can be. Maybe Brett’s right and I just need to get laid. Well, that is certainly not going to happen any time soon.

  I snuggle down underneath the quilt Tommy’s grandmother made us as a wedding gift and close my eyes. Soon I am drifting off to sleep trying desperately to think of anything that might prevent Adam from appearing in my dreams.

  Saturday morning Tommy picks up the kids at 7:30. In a moment of stupidity or maybe remorse, I invite him for dinner. He accepts gratefully. Even though it’s awkward for him and me I think it’s important for the kids to enjoy a meal with the whole family occasionally. They really like it when their dad is home for dinners. Once they have left, I quickly hop into the shower and get dressed for work. Black yoga pants and a light sweater will be today’s uniform. Even in June it is still sweater weather in my mind because I’m always cold regardless of temperature.

  Before leaving the house I set up the crock pot to make the roast I’ve saved for the weekend. Potatoes and carrots get added and I set the timer for seven hours. It should be done by 5pm, when Tommy promised to bring the kids back. There’s a voicemail waiting for me from Rebecca that I listen to while walking out to my car.

  Amanda, I am so sorry for teasing you Thursday night. You were absolutely right about Adam! You know how much I’m in love with Eric and I still had trouble not drooling when Adam looked at me! I made him chicken cutlets and rice for dinner and he said it was good. But then he asked when you’d be back. I don’t know if it was my cooking or he missed not seeing you today. Anyway, I don’t know what to tell you. You know how much I love Tommy, but I totally understand if you end up throwing yourself at the new doctor! Call me later!

  I feel slightly vindicated that at least Mrs. Coleman and I aren’t the only ones who think Adam is super gorgeous, but it also disturbs me that Rebecca, the biggest advocate for Tommy and me reuniting, basically just gave me her blessing to go after Adam Brickman. My stomach flips a little hearing in her message that Adam asked about my returning to work. Rebecca’s cutlets are amazing; there’s no way he missed me for my cooking when he had Rebecca’s Swainsboro Town Fair two-time award winning chicken cutlets on his plate.

  When I get to the B&B I check the answering machine for reservations. John Lambert called to confirm his arrival on Monday. Since Adam is currently the only guest I should take the time today to clean the three rooms that will be occupied by John and his fishing buddies. I also need to wipe down the downstairs bathroom and make it lemony fresh before their arrival. I’ll have plenty of time today to do all of that and still get to the UPS store if I make Adam’s lunch early and leave it in the refrigerator. I’ve been meaning to take my map of Swainsboro down to Doug to make more color copies. If I focus on getting all this accomplished today I’ll have a good shot of keeping my mind off Adam.

  I make French toast for breakfast. There have been no sounds coming from upstairs so Adam must still be sleeping. It’s almost 8:30 now and his food is ready. I’ve just wrapped the plate in tin foil to keep it warm when the back door suddenly opens. I’m not used to this, as very few guests ever venture into the back yard. There’s a small deck with a table and chairs back there but the vegetation is somewhat over grown due to Mr. Thatcher’s lack of interest in yard work and its buggy being so close to the forest. I stare in disbelief as the figure on the other side of the frosted glass door pushes it open and Adam emerges into the long hallway that leads to the back of the house.

  I realize immediately that Adam hasn’t been sleeping all this time but actually out for his morning run. His hair is damp with sweat and his cheeks are flushed. As if I needed another reason to desire him, he’s wearing black running shorts with the sneakers I noticed in the closet the other day and his grey t-shirt is clutched in his left hand. His chest is muscular and his stomach flat and sculpted. He’s even more mouthwatering than my imagination had envisioned. The further down his body I look the more perfect he becomes. My eyes stop at the waistband of his shorts and I feel my cheeks filling with more color than are currently in Adam’s.

  “Amanda,” he calls surprised to see me standing in the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” I say with a smile, my voice coming out squeaky and weird. He looks somewhat uncomfortable being caught without his shirt. It might have something to do with the fact that I can’t take my eyes off his chest. I turn and pick up his plate of food from the countertop.

  “Have you been waiting for me long? I slept later than expected but didn’t want to miss out on my run.”

  “You went for a run in the woods?” I ask incredulously.

  “Yeah, I started out going through town but then followed the little path in the woods for a change of scenery,” he explains.

  “Well, you have perfect timing. Breakfast is still hot,” I say placing the foil covered plate on the kitchen table.

  “Great. Thank you so much, Amanda. I’m just going to rinse off in the shower, be back in two minutes,” he promises before turning and taking the stairs two at a time.

  His absence gives me an opportunity to collect myself and also to commit to memory the way he looks shirtless. I’m putting the image of Adam’s naked torso… what does Brett call it? Oh yes, putting it in my spank bank. True to his word Adam showers in less than a minute and is back downstairs wearing jeans and a t-shirt another minute later. His hair is damp and disheveled after being towel dried.
I’d only made enough food for one person so I keep myself busy by starting some coffee.

  “You were off yesterday?” he asks conversationally.

  “Yeah, Rebecca offered to take my shift so I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to spend the day at home with the kids.”

  Adam nods his head in agreement and takes a sip of the orange juice on the table.

  “How were things here?” I ask. “Did I miss anything?”

  “Not really. Rebecca was very kind and I spent most of the day at the office with my father,” Adam replies. “I was surprised to see her in the morning and not you. I thought maybe something happened.”

  I smile because Adam sounds disappointed as he admits to having been expecting me the day before. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I’d be gone. Rebecca just offered late Thursday night when she was over my house and I couldn’t pass up a day off,” I say apologetically.

  “No need to apologize. I’m glad you had a day to spend with your kids. I did miss your cooking though,” he says taking another big bite of French toast.

  I roll my eyes so he knows I don’t believe his statement. He smiles and winks at me as I set two cups of coffee on the table and sit down across from him.

  “Are you going back to Dr. Brickman’s office again today?” I ask.

  “No, dad’s only working until noon since its Saturday and I still have to wait for my license to come in before I can see patients. I wanted to go touring more houses today but my mother bailed on me and the realtor isn’t available,” he says shrugging.

  “So what are you going to do all day?” I blurt without thinking. I’m not going to be able to keep the promise I made to myself to avoid thinking about him if he’s hanging around here.

  “I really need to get a car,” he sighs. “Then I won’t be reliant on my mother for rides like I’m back in high school again. There wouldn’t happen to be a rental car office near town, would there?”

  “Sorry, no. You could borrow mine for a few hours. I have some cleaning to do around here for the new guests arriving Monday. Then I was going to go down to the UPS store if I had time.”

  “Do you have to do the cleaning today? You could come with me to look at the houses… give me your opinion.”

  “Really, you want to know what I think about real estate?”

  “Sure,” he replies gulping down his coffee like he’s suddenly in a hurry to get through breakfast. “You probably know the best places in town better than my mother or Frank Harper, having lived here longer than either of them. I’ll help you get ready for the new guests and then we’ll go. Agreed?”

  He isn’t leaving me much of a choice and to be honest, the thought of spending the afternoon with Adam sends my heart racing. It goes against everything I decided this morning but I quickly remind myself that he’s asking me for a favor. It’s part of my job to be accommodating to the guests. He’s lonely here and only asking me since he has no one else. Besides, he is so cute when he gets excited about something.

  “Okay, but I don’t know about you helping with my chores. I need to dust and vacuum three rooms, change the linens, clean the downstairs bathroom, and stock all three with fresh products. What would Mr. Thatcher think if he stopped by and saw you scrubbing the bathroom floor?”

  Adam makes a face at that thought. It’s the same one both Dad and Tommy gave me whenever I suggested they take a turn cleaning the bathroom. “I’ll tell you what,” he bargains, “I’ll clean up the rooms and change the sheets. You tackle the bathrooms.”

  “Deal,” I reply and take a large sip of my coffee.

  I run down the mental checklist I have for today and figure with Adam’s help it should only take about two hours to get everything done. We wash and dry the breakfast dishes together and then I send him upstairs to strip the beds in the yellow and green rooms. I quickly scrub down the first floor bathroom; concentrating on the tub and especially the grout between each tile. I clean the toilet and sink and then head to my supply closet down in the basement to load up on soaps, shampoos, and other bathroom accessories for all the bathrooms. Adam is there in the basement inspecting the labels on the laundry detergents like they’re written in Greek.

  “Need help?” I ask trying to hide my amusement.

  He spins around with a guilty smile on his face. “You have a disturbing number of detergents here. I’m afraid of using the wrong one for these comforters,” he says.

  “Sometimes guests have skin irritations to certain brands so I keep them all on hand,” I explain. “Any one of these will work.” I come to stand beside Adam and open the cap on the bottle he’s been inspecting. He steps away a few inches to give me room but is still close enough that I can smell his cologne. Damn, he smells good.

  “I really appreciate your help, Adam. I’ve never had a guest come down to the basement or do chores before,” I say conveying my appreciation.

  “It’s my pleasure. You’re doing me a big favor by driving me around today, Amanda,” he reminds me. The genuine smile on his face does things to my body I swore I wouldn’t let myself feel. Jeez, just from his smile? “And I don’t want you to think of me as a guest anymore. I live in this town now. I want to be your friend,” he adds. His voice is soft and shy.

  I am completely speechless. Adam Brickman is my friend? What a novel idea. It could work perhaps; a much more appealing alternative to calling him the object of my infatuation.

  “Come on. Let’s finish upstairs and then we can go,” I say with a smile. I grab the supplies I need from the closet and then Adam follows me up the steps to the main floor. He helps stock the bath products and fold towels in each bathroom.

  “So I have you to myself all weekend?” he asks after a few minutes of silence. My eyes widen and I look at him confused. “You said these new guests don’t get here until Monday?” he clarifies, smiling coyly at my misunderstanding of his question.

  “Oh, yes. Three fisherman are checking in sometime Monday,” I reply.

  I can feel the heat in my cheeks. I really need to stop processing every sentence Adam utters to me like it’s a come on. My subconscious is playing tricks on me and I’m positive today will prove to be a very interesting day.

  Chapter Four: House Hunters

  “This is your car?” Adam asks as we step outside the Thatcher B&B and into the muggy morning air.

  “What?” I retort, following his gaze over to my well broken in Accord. “I’ve had it since high school. It still runs great.”

  “If you say so,” he quips teasingly, running his hand over a rusty dent and walking around to the passenger side.

  “At least I have a car,” I shoot back with a playful smile, “and a house.”

  He laughs and jiggles the door handle until it opens. “Touché, Miss Sommerer.”

  I get in behind the driver’s seat and look over at my beautiful passenger. I smile at him momentarily before catching a glimpse in the rear view mirror of the empty car seats behind us. A wave of uncertainty washes over me. What am I doing spending the day with Adam? This was not part of my plan. Adam said he wants to be my friend, but can I handle that considering the hyperactive state of my pulse whenever he’s around? How can I honestly be friends with a man I want to lick from head to toe? What are the kids going to think about me having a male friend? It won’t matter to Gabby but Tyler might have questions.

  “Our first stop needs to be Harper & Roach to pick up the house keys,” Adam says shaking me from my somber reverie. I’ll have to think more about all this later.

  “Okay,” I reply turning over the engine. It takes a few attempts before finally starting. Adam is kind enough not to comment. “Are people going to be home in these houses?”

  “No, a few I’ve looked at so far have been occupied but without the realtor present I’m only able to view the vacant houses.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  I am relieved. I can’t imagine the gossip that would spread if Adam and I were seen touring homes together. That’s the
last thing I need right now, more town gossip. Harper & Roach is only about a mile down the road and I pull the car up right in front of the single story brick building in the center of town. Adam goes inside alone and returns a few minutes later with a paper bag. The door sticks again as he tries to get back in the car and I watch his face stifle a grin as he sits down beside me. His cologne fills the car and I take a deep breath, inhaling his enticing scent.

  “Where’s the first house?”

  Adam pulls a few keys out of the bag and inspects the addresses written on long plastic key chains. “First stop will be 114 Lotus Blossom Drive. Hmm, I don’t know if I can live on a street named Lotus Blossom,” he muses.

  “Oh good grief,” I mutter. “No wonder your mother bailed on you.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks innocently. I cock one eye brow at him wondering if he’s serious.

  “I’m not being unreasonable,” he protests putting his hand over his heart. “The name of the street you live on says a lot about you. You have to write it on all kinds of forms, say it over and over on the phone for security confirmations, and type it out every time you buy something online… what?”

  “Soooo, first house is on Lotus Blossom,” I state firmly. “A lot of things can be deal breakers, Adam. Really bad neighbors, lack of square footage, but not the name of the street.”

  “Boy, you’re going to be tough, aren’t you? I should have you there to negotiate the sale price,” he replies.

  I chuckle but don’t say anything else. Despite his aversion to the street name I drive east out of the center of town to a quaint little bungalow with mint green siding and pink shutters. As we pull up in front of the house Adam shoots me a look that says he’s already seen enough.

  “Let’s at least go inside. The sweetest old lady used to live here when I was growing up,” I urge.

  Adam reluctantly steps out of the car and walks around to the sidewalk where he stops and stares at the house. Without even thinking I wrap my fingers around Adam’s forearm and he allows me to tow him up the cobblestone walkway to the front door. My fingertips tingle from where they touch his skin but if I have the same effect on him it’s impossible to tell. Adam’s face stays completely composed as he fishes the key out of his paper bag and sticks it into the lock.