Notes on His Pillow

by Diana Currie

  When I arrive at the Thatcher B&B I’m pleased to see no one else has arrived yet. I want to be here for introductions. The main floor is empty but I can hear Adam shuffling around in his room. Footsteps move from the Red room to the bathroom back and forth a couple times. John, Dave, and Larry are out and it makes me wonder what they’re doing for dinner. I should have left a lasagna in the refrigerator.

  I keep myself occupied washing the dishes that have been left in the sink from lunch and breakfast. Abruptly, the sound of someone coming down the stairs fills my stomach with butterflies. I turn off the water and spin around to greet Adam, grabbing a dish towel to dry my hands. He looks even more amazing than I was preparing myself for, donning a collared white linen button down shirt and brown slacks. His hair is damp and in disarray from a recent shower, a look I’ve begun to expect each morning. His cologne hits me even from the distance of a few feet that separate us which tells me he used more than usual. Could that mean he’s nervous too? It would make sense for him to be. He’s meeting new people tonight, potential new friends in a town with slim pickings.

  “You look great,” I say before I have a chance to over think the compliment.

  “Thank you,” he replies smiling wide. “So do you. That color is very lovely with your skin.”

  I laugh, not knowing how else to respond. I should have just said thank you. He blushes lightly and runs his hand through his dirty blonde hair. It’s obvious Adam’s a little unsure of himself tonight. I feel the same only I have no excuse for it and I hope he doesn’t sense that vibe from me.

  “Don’t be nervous. Meeting my friends I mean,” I clarify quickly. “They’re harmless and all really nice people.”

  “Who’s coming again,” he asks walking towards me and leaning against the kitchen counter, his hands shoved into his pants pockets.

  “Rebecca Thatcher, you’ve met her already. Our friend from high school, Eric Chapman. They’re not dating but should be,” I add. “Brett Tyson, who you spoke to on the phone.” I roll my eyes. “And this afternoon I invited his sister Rachel too.”

  Adam nods his head. “Rachel is the owner of that bar, right?”

  “Yep, that’s the one. I figured she’ll keep Brett in line. He’s never as big a fool when she’s around.”

  Adam laughs. “It must be a brother sister thing then,” he muses. “I feel like my brothers and I are always more foolish when we get together.”

  Suddenly I’m wondering what Adam is like around his family. I know his relationship with his parents is somewhat stressed. I’d love to see him with his brothers. “I can’t picture you acting goofy at all, you seem so reserved and serious,” I say hoping my observation doesn’t come off the wrong way.

  “You’d be surprised then,” he says and winks at me.

  We make small talk for a few more minutes until everyone else arrives. Adam seems to like Eric right away and he visibly relaxes when Rebecca comes in. She’s a familiar face to him and also the gentlest, most approachable person I’ve ever met. Rachel gives me a big hug and is very friendly towards Adam. He seems to like her too and I’ve never been so happy that Rachel is engaged. I hate how territorial I feel around him.

  Brett is the last to arrive as usual. He makes the situation a little awkward, letting Adam know right away how long he’s known me and how important I am to him. “Our fathers have been friends since they were our age. She’s a great girl; always been there for me. Mandy has had a rough year so I’d hate to see her get hurt again. She’s like family.” I hope I’m not as glaringly obvious with my territorial feelings as Brett. By the end of their introduction I feel as if Brett has just peed all around my feet.

  “Easy there little brother,” I warn shoving Brett’s shoulder lightly. “He forgets I’m older because he’s so damn tall. You don’t have to get all protective of me. Adam’s just a friend who I want to show a good time to tonight.”

  Adam’s smile slips slightly and I don’t know whether it’s my description of our outing or maybe Brett’s personality that does it.

  “What did you invite her for?” Brett huffs noticing his sister.

  “So glad to see you too, baby brother,” Rachel replies with a snarky grin. It’s my opinion that they don’t hang out enough and I love the banter between the two. Rachel can keep Brett in his place and they both know it. They adore each other and their relationship has always made me wish I had a sibling too.

  Our ride is going to be Rebecca’s mom’s minivan since it can seat all of us. Eric offers to drive and Rebecca hops into the passenger seat beside him. I quickly call dibs on the very back and take Adam’s hand in mine so he’ll follow to the seat beside me. He doesn’t seem to want to argue the seating arrangements.

  “Thanks, Mandy. You set me up on a triple date with my sister,” Brett groans as Rachel hops into the seat beside him and slides the van door shut.

  Rebecca and I glance at each other and blush. Eric and Adam both choose not to respond and I’m thankful. Technically no one in this van is on a date even though a few of us would probably prefer to be.

  After Brett’s comment I feel a little awkward about dragging Adam into the back seat with me. “I’d have sat next to Rachel but then you’d have been stuck with Mr. Personality Disorder,” I whisper to Adam.

  He chuckles and leans his shoulder against mine. “I’m glad I’m sitting next to you.”

  We smile at each other as Eric pulls away from the curb. While Rebecca is reserved and quiet, Eric is more sociable and keeps conversation going in the van by discussing music and movies with the other guys. I’m surprised to learn Adam is just as big a fan of the James Bond franchise as Brett.

  “I don’t see the appeal,” Rachel sighs, “but any excuse to get away from the bar for one evening is reason enough for me to tag along.”

  “Amanda’s told me you own Sarah’s?” Adam asks conversationally.

  “Yes. It’s named for our mom. It was her dream to open a restaurant but she never got close to making it a reality,” she says. “She passed away about ten years ago,” she adds answering Adam’s unspoken question.

  “That’s a wonderful thing you did, making her dream come true,” he replies.

  “Thank you. My father helped me get it up and running. And Brett worked for practically nothing bussing tables all through high school. It’s been a labor of love for the whole family.”

  I look over at Brett and he smiles shyly when our eyes meet. For Rachel, the bar is a tribute to their mother and helps keep her memory alive. But no one grieved more for Sarah Tyson’s sudden death than thirteen year old Brett and even now he barely talks about her.

  I can see Adam’s not sure what more to say so I change the topic to restaurants in Savannah. We take a vote and agree to try the new place Brett suggested. At the restaurant Adam follows close behind me and pulls out my chair before taking the one next to it for himself.

  Our waiter approaches the table just as we are all getting settled. I take a sip of the water sitting in front of me. Menus are passed around and Adam smiles handing me one. His eyes are bright and alive in a way I haven’t seen before. I don’t know what to make of them. He opens his own menu and asks me what I’m in the mood for. If I didn’t know better I’d swear I was on a date with Adam Brickman right now. All the signs are there, the nervous thumping of my heart being just one of many. His chivalry is nothing out of the ordinary for him but the fact that I’m wearing nice clothes and sitting in a fancy restaurant with soft Italian music playing in the background only helps create the ambiance of a first date.

  “Fuck me, look at these prices!” Brett exclaims from across the table. And I’m catapulted back to reality.

  “You picked this place, dumbass,” Rachel laughs.

  “Yeah, I know, but damn. Twenty six dollars for chicken,” Brett says pointing to a selection on his menu.

  I’m thoroughly embarrassed and wondering what Adam must think of this hodgepodge of people around him. I know Adam comes fro
m a privileged family and must have some wealth himself judging by the houses we toured last weekend. He must have grown up in a lifestyle I could only dream of. Thankfully the waiter is polite enough to pretend he hadn’t heard Brett’s comment. He takes our drink order with a smile plastered on his face. He’s probably worried about what kind of a tip he’ll get from Brett the tightwad after he orders a water with lemon. Rebecca orders a glass of the house’s red wine. Eric and Rachel opt for Coke. Then the waiter smiles and looks at me.

  “And what can I get for you, miss?”

  “I’ll take the red wine too.”

  Adam picks up the wine list I hadn’t noticed him looking at and says, “Can we get a bottle of the Pinot Noir instead of the house? It’s my treat, ladies. I think you’ll really like it; it’s similar to what we drank the other night, Amanda.”

  “Absolutely, sir. Excellent choice,” the waiter responds.

  Adam looks to me for approval and I just nod my head. Something about him taking charge of the wine selection does crazy things to my insides. Rebecca agrees too and the waiter says he’ll be back in a few minutes to take our dinner order. Everyone at the table is silent looking at the menus and making their selections.

  When the waiter returns I still haven’t decided. He starts with Rachel again. I lean into Adam’s side and whisper, “what goes better with the pinot noir? Herb roasted lamb or chicken parm?”

  He smiles at me, seemingly pleased to be asked for his insight. “It’s best paired with earthy foods like mushrooms and gamey meats. I’d go for the lamb,” he whispers conspiratorially.

  “Thanks,” I reply and wink.

  After everyone orders, Brett and Eric start talking about baseball. I relax a little when Adam joins the conversation, more at ease than he was earlier this evening at the B&B or in the van. Rebecca’s asking Rachel how business has been and I only pretend to listen. Instead, I hear Adam admit to the guys that he’s a Cubbies fan having grown up in Chicago. Eric laughs and says he’s sorry to hear that.

  “What’s wrong with the Cubs?” Rebecca asks. Her attention turned to their conversation when Eric laughed.

  “Nothing,” Brett chuckles, “Except they’re cursed.”

  “Cursed?” I ask skeptically.

  Adam rolls his eyes but smiles. He doesn’t seem offended in any way by Eric and Brett’s remarks. “The Cubs haven’t won a World Series since 1908,” he explains. “There’s a belief among many Chicagoans that a Tavern owner cursed the team after he was asked to leave Wrigley Field because the goat he had with him was bothering other fans.”

  “He brought a goat to the baseball game?” Rebecca asks.

  Eric laughs. “Yeah, Becca, a billy goat. And as the story goes the guy calls out ‘Them Cubs, they ain’t gonna win no more!’ And they haven’t in over a hundred seasons since.”

  “The only thing worse than being a Cubs fan is maybe a Marlins fan,” Brett adds. Eric and Adam both laugh and I look around the table confused.

  “Joke all you want about my team; I think they’ve got a real shot this year,” Adam replies confidently.

  Brett rolls his eyes. Eric chuckles and says, “Keep dreaming, man” as Brett high fives him.

  Rebecca and Rachel both shrug. Yeah, I don’t get it either.

  Adam pours a glass of wine for each of us and then passes the bottle around the table. I take a sip and feel it going right to my head. It makes me realize just how ravenous I am, having not eaten all afternoon. I drink it quickly even though I probably shouldn’t since I’m working with an empty stomach. But Adam was right, the pinot noir is delicious. Rebecca starts talking to me about the B&B. She wants to know what the other guests are like and how many bookings I have for the next few weeks. I tell her about John and his friends and go over the list of upcoming reservations.

  A few minutes later I take an opportunity between conversations to run to the ladies room and call Tommy. I intend to get back to the table before our dinner comes. I’m feeling a little mommy guilt for being out and just want to say goodnight to Ty and Gabby before they fall asleep. Tommy updates me on what they had for dinner and what they’ve been doing. I talk to each of them and say goodnight and sweet dreams before hanging up. I put my phone back in my purse and look up, surprised to see Adam in front of me.

  “Hey,” he says softly. “Everything alright?”

  I notice he’s coming from the direction of our table and not the men’s room. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine, just wanted to talk to the kids before they fell asleep.” Adam smiles at me unblinking, like he’s studying my face.

  “I was worried when you didn’t come back,” he explains. “I thought maybe the wine was getting to you already.”

  “I’ve only had one glass so far,” I say. “But now that I know Tyler and Gabby are fine I think I’m ready for a second one.”

  Adam waves his hand out in front of his chest signaling for me to lead the way. When we return to the table I see that our food has arrived and everything looks really good. Adam refills our wine glasses and I thank him. His lifts his glass to me and smiles.

  “What are we toasting?” I ask.

  “New friendships,” he responds and we clink glasses. Only then does it occur to me that we left the rest of the table out of our toast. His bright green eyes are staring into my brown ones, dazzling me. I can hardly breathe.

  “Cheers,” I whisper and take another longer sip.

  I quickly pick up my fork and turn away from Adam so he doesn’t see the blush in my cheeks. Rachel grabs my attention and starts talking about her bar. Everyone falls into conversation with one another as we dig into the yummy food. Adam refills his own wine glass halfway through dinner and I ask him to give me some more too. He quirks an eyebrow at me but relents.

  “I know how much alcohol I can handle, Mr. Brickman,” I say in a flirty tone that I didn’t intend to use. It just sort of slipped out.

  He flashes me a brilliant smile and chuckles under his breath. “Very well, Miss Sommerer,” he says in a ridiculously sexy voice. Then all of a sudden his expression becomes perplexed. “Or are you still using Miller?”

  I grimace. Technically I am still legally Mandy Miller, but I’ve been using my maiden name since Tommy moved out of our house. “Only until the paperwork goes through,” I begrudgingly admit. Adam doesn’t appear to be any more pleased by my answer than I am to give it and that confuses me. Or is it the wine messing with my head? He did just toast to our new friendship, did he not?

  “I like that you call me Amanda,” I admit honestly.

  He smiles. “Well, it is your name after all.”

  “That may be my given name but I’ll forever be Mandy to everyone in town. I like how you make me feel like a different person. Is that weird?”

  “Not weird at all,” he says assuredly. “You have a beautiful name, so it suits you.”

  “Thank you,” I say gratefully.

  After dinner the six of us stand outside the restaurant while Eric and Brett debate whether or not we should walk to the movie theater. After determining its only five blocks everyone agrees we can walk it. I take one step onto an uneven section of concrete and nearly fall over face first, and I’m not even wearing heels.

  “Whoa,” Adam calls catching my arm just before I go down for the count.

  “Nice catch,” I reply feeling my cheeks heating from embarrassment.

  Rebecca giggles having drunk just as much wine as me, which happens to be three glasses. I used to be able to function after three. I really think the sidewalk is to blame here. “You better help her, Adam. Even sober Mandy’s a total klutz,” Becca says. She winks at me discretely as if she’s just done me a favor by calling attention to my disability.

  “Thanks for the heads up,” Adam replies and then links my elbow around his. The skin of his bare arm presses against mine and I nearly moan. Okay, maybe Rebecca is a genius. I’m really not that drunk but if Adam will keep touching me like this then I’m willing to pretend.

&nbs
p; “I think I’m going to hold on to you, if that’s alright. If you fall a break a leg who’s going to make me breakfast tomorrow?” he teases lightly. We start walking, slow and steady down the block.

  “I knew you only liked me for my cooking!” I accuse.

  Adam scoffs at that. “Amanda, you’re absurd. There’s not a single thing about you that I don’t like.”

  I have no idea what to say to that so I say nothing. For the remainder of the walk I’m completely silent all the while repeating his words over and over in my slightly tipsy head. There’s not a single thing about you that I don’t like.

  Not surprisingly Adam sits next to me in the theater. Rebecca is on my other side, and Eric is next to her. Rachel grabs the other seat next to Adam and Brett is nowhere to be found. He disappeared somewhere in the lobby after striking up a conversation with two women who were in line for popcorn.

  I check my phone for messages before turning off the sound. By the time the previews are over Brett still hasn’t joined us. Typically, that would piss me off considering he’s the one who had to see this damn movie in the first place but when Adam leans against me to whisper in my ear all is forgiven.

  “Do you want anything to eat or drink?” he asks softly. His close proximity sends my pulse through the roof.

  “No thanks, I’m okay right now,” I reply trying to keep my voice even.

  After the opening credits Brett finally graces us with his presence. He sits directly behind me with a goofy grin on his face.

  “Where have you been? And where’s your food?” I whisper over my shoulder.

  “What?” he replies leaning forward in his seat.

  “You were in line for popcorn. Twenty minutes ago,” I remind him.

  “Oh yeah. I forgot because I met a woman,” he says and waves a napkin in my face. It has a phone number written on it under the name Kara.

  “Good for you, stud,” I tease. He smiles and then someone a few rows away shushes us.

  I turn my attention back to the movie. James Bond is kind of boring to me. I prefer the Pierce Brosnan era. After a while I find myself watching Adam’s profile instead of the movie. I study his strong jaw line, the shape of his ear, the stubble beginning to poke out of his cheek. Then I move on to his forearm, casually resting on the armrest between us. I commit to memory the pattern of light colored hairs covering well defined muscles. He really is magnificent.