by Jae
“I will,” Denny said without hesitation.
When Heather unlocked the double doors and disappeared into the building, Denny rocked back on the heels of her Oxfords. Damn. She had hoped she and Heather would connect in a way that would make her stop thinking about Eliza. Instead, with the date now behind her, all she could think about on her way home was that she’d see Eliza tomorrow.
“God, what are you—a stalker?” Eliza groused out loud. But she couldn’t help herself. Every couple of minutes, she paused the movie she was watching and listened for the rumble of the elevator or footsteps coming down the hall toward Heather’s apartment.
Would Heather return alone, or would she ask Denny up for a glass of wine?
Oh shit, what if Denny stayed for more than the wine, and she ran into her tomorrow morning? Would she be able to pretend everything was fine while her friends reveled in their postcoital bliss?
A wave of nausea swept up her belly. Of all the women in the world, why was her best friend going out with the one woman she…?
Eliza froze. The one woman I…what?
The elevator doors swished open, and steps came down the landing.
Eliza jumped up and raced to the door, nearly falling on her ass as her sock-covered feet slid out from under her. She caught herself on the doorknob and peered through the frosted glass panel in her front door.
A single figure came toward her.
She opened the door an inch. If it was Mr. Drayton, her neighbor to the other side, returning from a walk with his toy poodle, he’d get a glimpse of her nightwear—which consisted of a pair of panties and an old, long T-shirt.
But it was unmistakably Heather walking past her.
Eliza stuck her hand out the door and waved. “Heather!”
Heather backtracked and peeked through the gap. “Oh, hey, you still up?”
Eliza nodded. “Watching a movie.” Truth be told, she wasn’t sure what she’d been watching. “Want to come in?” She tried to sound casual.
Heather laughed and pushed the door open. “Don’t pretend you’re not bursting with curiosity about my date! You’re the worst actress I know.”
Eliza dug her fingernails into her palm. If only Heather knew. She led her into the apartment, sat cross-legged on the couch, and flicked off the TV to give Heather her full attention. “So? How was it?”
“Can I have a glass of wine or some water before you start the interrogation?” Heather asked. “I’m parched.”
“Didn’t you have anything to drink with dinner?”
“Not a drop. Long story.”
Eliza jumped up and set a new speed record for opening a bottle of wine and filling two glasses. Her nerves were taut like the steel cables of an elevator, and every extra second she had to wait ticked by with painful slowness.
As Eliza pressed a glass of red into her hand, Heather blinked. “Wow. That’s prompt service. The waitress at the Italian place could learn a thing or two from you.”
Eliza wasn’t interested in the waitress. “How did it go? What was she wearing? Was she nervous? Will you go out again? Did she…kiss you?”
Heather burst out laughing. “Jeez, what’s with the twenty questions?”
“Come on. Tell me.”
Heather swirled her red wine with a slow smile. “Let’s see… Okay; a suit and tie; hell, yes; not the way you’re thinking; no.”
Eliza’s head spun. She had blurted out her questions so fast that now she wasn’t able to pair them with Heather’s answers. “Why don’t you start at the beginning? And don’t leave anything out!”
“Well, the beginning was pretty uneventful. She kept her gaze on the menu as if that thing had hypnotized her, and by the time the waitress brought our food, she had said maybe two sentences to me.”
Oh no. Poor Denny. A restaurant setting wasn’t a great choice for her. Eliza wanted to suggest a different activity for the next date, but the words refused to come. Hearing about Heather and Denny’s first date was hard enough; she didn’t want to suggest a second one. “What happened then? Did she relax a little?”
“Not in the restaurant. The waitress kept glaring at her as if Denny had ordered a plate full of cute kittens.”
“Why would she do that?” Denny was always well-mannered and respectful. Why would anyone treat her like that?
Heather gave her a duh look. “Well, because of the way Denny looks.”
Eliza frowned. A mental image of Denny formed in her mind’s eye. Lately, that happened at the drop of a hat. She could easily picture the baby-blue button-up she had worn at the festival, the fabric stretching over her strong arms and generous breasts. The color of the shirt made the adorable flush on her cheeks stand out even more any time she blushed. “What’s wrong with the way she looks?”
Heather put her wineglass down and hugged her. “Don’t ever change.”
Eliza returned the hug, then pulled back to study Heather with a shake of her head. “Seriously. I don’t get it.”
“Because you’re not a homophobic asshole whose ideas of how a woman should look and dress are from around 1740.”
Eliza stared at her. A wave of anger and fierce protectiveness bubbled up from deep inside of her until she felt as if steam would pour out of her ears any second. “What an ass! Did you stab her with your fork?”
“Believe me, I considered it.”
They both took a gulp of wine at the same time.
“What did Denny do?” Eliza asked.
“Not much. She stayed polite and pretended not to notice, although I’m sure she would have preferred to either storm out or crawl under the table and hide.”
Eliza emptied her wineglass with several gulps. It clanked as she set it on the coffee table with too much force.
Heather leaned forward and tilted her head to study her. “This is really upsetting you, isn’t it?”
“Of course!” The words burst out of Eliza. She took a moment to compose herself before she continued. “Any of my friends being treated like that makes me so angry I could spit nails.” Yeah, just tell yourself that. She would get angry if any other friend had been treated that way, but deep down, she knew it being centered around Denny fanned the flames of her anger even higher.
“Don’t worry.” Heather patted Eliza’s knee. “The evening got decidedly better when we got our dinners to go and got out of there—without leaving a tip.”
“Yeah?” On the one hand, Eliza was happy to hear that, but on the other hand, she wasn’t sure how much better she wanted their date to get.
“Yeah. We went to the park and had a picnic, with someone playing the violin in the background.”
“Sounds, um, romantic,” Eliza said around the lump in her throat.
Heather shrugged. “It could have been, with the right person.”
Eliza’s inner bristles rose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Whoa!” Heather lifted both hands and chuckled nervously. “Should I be worried about you using a fork on me?”
Eliza dug her nails into her palm to get a grip. God, her emotions were all over the place tonight.
“Look, I think Denny is really nice,” Heather said, her tone soft. “Once she relaxed, I had a great time with her, and you were right about her treating me like a queen. I don’t regret going out with her at all.”
What she wasn’t saying hung in the air between them.
“But?” Eliza prompted.
“But there just wasn’t any chemistry. She isn’t my type, and I don’t think I’m hers either.”
What was Denny’s type? Would she ever be interested in a woman like Eliza? But hadn’t she decided her attraction to Denny was most likely a fluke, so acting on it would only hurt Denny and their friendship?
“Hey, don’t worry.” Heather leaned over and gave her another hug. “We mutually decided we’re better off as friends. No hurt feelings.”
Eliza squeezed back and nodded. Yeah. Better off as friends. That was true for her and Denny too, r
ight?
Heather emptied her glass and got up. “And now you’ll have to excuse me. As sexy as this dress is, I can’t wait to get out of it and slip into my favorite hoodie.”
When the door clicked shut behind her, Eliza sank onto the couch, pressed a pillow onto her face, and groaned into it.
Chapter 15
The next morning, Denny pressed the phone to her ear and her nose to the windowpane as she stared outside. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”
It took forever for Eliza to pick up. “Yes?”
“Rain! Eliza, it’s raining! What do we do?”
“Um, Denny, is that you?”
Even in her panicked state, Eliza’s voice—huskier than usual—sent goose bumps up her arms. Then a realization washed over her, and she froze. Her gaze darted to her wristwatch, then outside, to where gray clouds blocked out the rising sun. “Shit, shit, shit,” she repeated today’s mantra. It was six o’clock on a Saturday morning. “I woke you up, didn’t I? I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Eliza sounded more awake now. “I’d have to get up soon anyway to get ready for Saturday Market. What’s going on? Are you all right?”
“Yes. No. It’s raining! Rain with a capital R, not just a little drizzle!”
It took a while for Eliza to answer, as if she had gotten up and glanced out the window. “Looks like it.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be raining! I watched the weather reports like a hawk this week, and they predicted sunshine all weekend!” Denny paced around her room. “Salem and I planned a scavenger hunt for Bella and her friends, but can you imagine half a dozen tween girls trudging through the rain? The clues will get soaked, and they’ll want to go home within five minutes!”
“Is there a plan B?” Eliza asked.
“I suggested taking them bowling, but Salem says Bella’s best friend did that for her birthday, so apparently, that means it’s out.” Denny sighed. “We need something cool that hasn’t been done before. Something they won’t consider babyish but that isn’t too mature either. Plus our budget is super modest, so it needs to be something that doesn’t break the bank and—”
“Denny?” Eliza’s voice, warm and calm, broke through Denny’s panic.
“Yes?”
“I’ve got this. Unless you need to run it by your sister first.”
“No,” Denny said. “We take turns planning Bella’s birthday party, and this year, it’s my turn. But you’ve got Saturday Market. You don’t have time for—”
“Do you trust me?”
Denny flopped onto her bed. “I do,” she said without hesitation.
“Do you have the food part covered?”
“Yeah. I figured I could help them make their own individual pizzas.”
“Great,” Eliza said. “You worry about the food; I’ll take care of the entertainment. I have an idea, and I promise it’s something fun yet inexpensive.”
It was tempting. But could she really ask that of Eliza? “What about Saturday Market?”
“I planned to leave early anyway so I could come to Bella’s party. Heather already agreed to cover our stall, and if I bribe her with a pepperoni pizza, I’m sure she’ll agree to cover it an hour or two earlier.”
For the first time since she had opened her eyes and seen the rain outside, Denny could breathe without hyperventilating. “Thank you, thank you. God, I could kiss you!”
Silence filtered through the phone.
Denny gripped the phone with one hand and slapped her forehead with the other. She’s straight, remember? No kissing, dammit! “Not, uh, literally, of course.”
“Of course,” Eliza repeated with a nervous giggle. “Can you come pick me up an hour earlier so I can set up my secret entertainment program?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“I’ll text you the address.”
“Not necessary,” Denny said. “I walked Heather home yesterday, so I know where you live.”
“Oh! Right.”
Another moment of silence stretched between them. Denny was used to awkward silences when interacting with other people, but between her and Eliza, this was something new, and she didn’t quite know what to make of it.
“So,” Eliza finally said, her tone careful, “you and Heather…”
“There is no me and Heather. I mean, not in a couples way. She was great, though. I can see why you consider her your best friend.”
“Good. I mean, I’m glad you hit it off. As friends.” Eliza mumbled something incomprehensible, talking to herself. “Listen, I’d better get going. I need to count my stones.”
“Count your stones?” Denny repeated.
“You’ll see.” With that mysterious answer, she ended the call.
Denny dropped the phone onto her chest and glanced at her watch again. Okay, she had six hours to decorate the living room, pick up Bella’s gift, and think of a way to interact with Eliza without giving away her growing feelings. Unfortunately, two of these things were easier to accomplish than the third.
Eliza leaned back in the passenger seat of Denny’s battered Subaru Outback and watched as Denny safely navigated them across Ross Island Bridge. She bit back a grin. Denny kept both hands on the wheel, and her expression was one of total focus—as if she were transporting precious cargo.
“What?” Denny asked without taking her eyes off the road.
“Nothing. Just thinking.” She’d done a lot of that lately but wasn’t yet sure of the outcome.
“About what?”
“Oh, just that you must be the world’s best aunt.” Eliza smiled as, predictably, Denny blushed. “Seriously, you’re going to great lengths for your niece. I love that.”
Denny slowed as they approached a red light on the other side of the bridge. “I just want to make sure she has a wonderful birthday. She’s a great kid, but she hasn’t always had it easy, you know? Growing up without a dad or any grandparents…”
Eliza couldn’t imagine what that might be like for any of them. She reached over and gently squeezed Denny’s thigh an inch above the knee.
The Subaru screeched to an abrupt stop at the light. Denny stared at the hand on her leg.
Eliza quickly withdrew it. “Sorry, I…”
“No, no, it’s fine.” Denny’s face turned a vivid shade of scarlet that matched the red chambray shirt she wore. “You just took me by surprise.”
I know the feeling. The need to touch Denny, to comfort her, had taken her by surprise too. She folded her hands in her lap, determined to keep them to herself.
As the light turned green, Denny accelerated across the intersection.
“So,” Eliza said as the silence in the car lasted a little too long, “did Bella like her present?”
Denny’s tense features relaxed into a laugh. “Like? She loved it! I have a feeling if we let her, she’d take the bird to bed with her tonight! When I left, she was putting together a list of possible names, so prepare to be questioned about your favorites.”
“I might not be the best person to ask for naming advice.”
“Ooh, I sense a story there!” Denny switched off the soft music as if she didn’t want to miss a word.
“My family had a chug when I was growing up.”
“A what?”
“A chug,” Eliza repeated. “A mix between a pug and a Chihuahua.”
Denny gave her a sidelong glance. “You made that up.”
Eliza laughed. “No, I swear, they exist. Anyway, when we adopted our chug, my parents allowed me to name him. I thought about it for days because I wanted him to have the perfect name. In the meantime, he destroyed my mom’s favorite pair of shoes, licked the couch all over, and tore up my sister’s homework—which the teacher, of course, didn’t believe.”
“So, what did you name him? Bandit?”
Eliza caught herself just in time before she could reach over and pat Denny’s arm. What was up with that need to touch her? She shoved her hands beneath her thighs. “No. I named him Toast.”
Denny furrowed her brow. “Toast?”
“Yep. Because that was the sentence my parents and siblings said to him most often: ‘You are toast!’”
Denny’s laughter—deep, rich, and unrestrained—boomed through the car, making Eliza smile in response. She loved these moments in which Denny forgot her self-consciousness.
They entertained each other with stories about their childhoods, and before Eliza knew it, Denny took a left onto a quiet side street in Lents and pulled into the driveway of a gray two-story townhouse. “I know it’s not the most beautiful neighborhood, but it’s affordable, and the neighbors are great,” Denny said.
This time, Eliza gave in to her need to touch Denny and laid a reassuring hand on her forearm. “It looks really nice.”
Since it was still raining, Denny threw her jacket over the box with Eliza’s supplies and the bird toy gifts Eliza had kept and wrapped for her, and they jogged to the front door.
Denny unlocked it, cradling the box to her chest, and held the door open for Eliza.
“Thanks.” Eliza stepped inside, out of the rain, and looked around.
A short hallway connected to a dining area that was decorated with balloons, streamers, and a colorful Happy Birthday banner. In the open kitchen, a sliding glass door revealed glimpses of a tiny, fenced-in backyard. To her left, a set of stairs led to the upper floor. The place had a lived-in, cozy look.
“Salem’s and Bella’s bedrooms are upstairs,” Denny said as she closed the door behind them. “Mine is on this level, and I have my own bathroom too.”
“Nice.” For an introvert like Denny, having some space to herself was probably essential.
A racket on the stairs announced Bella’s arrival. “Mom,” she hollered over her shoulder. “They’re here!” Then, on the last few steps, she slowed down, and Eliza thought she caught a hint of her aunt’s shyness in the tween’s hazel eyes.
Denny wrapped one arm around her niece’s shoulders and pulled her against her side.
The protective gesture made Eliza melt inside.
“This is Bella—the birthday girl.” The pride in Denny’s voice was unmistakable, as was the resemblance between them. Bella’s hair was longer, reaching halfway down her back, but the color was the same sandy brown as Denny’s. “Bella, this is my friend Eliza.”