“They had wonderful taste.”
“I think maybe the wife did, the husband not so much. I gather it was all about increasing the potential resale value with him. The designer made all the decisions. So says the widow Abernathy next door, anyway.”
“You call her that?”
“Not to her face. When you meet her you’ll see what I mean. She’s kind of a throwback, but she’s a great old lady. Perfect neighbor. I would never dare have a loud party, though.”
“You’re a professor, you’re not supposed to throw wild parties anymore.”
“Oh, you saw that in the handbook too?” He cocked his head. A high-pitched noise like a harmonica blast was issuing from downstairs. “That’s the kettle.”
The master bedroom, which presumably lay beyond the second archway upstairs, hadn’t been covered on the tour. The omission lay unspoken between them as they made their way back down to the kitchen. Allison suspected the room would turn out to be similar to the rest of the house, the furnishings nice enough but nothing remarkable. Some girls might see a blank canvas. Allison was feeling nervous enough that she saw only expectations she might have trouble meeting.
“Sugar? Milk? Wait, I take that back, I don’t have any milk right now.”
“Just sugar.”
He flipped the lid up on the kettle, cutting off the noise of the whistle, and poured the water before retrieving the sugar from the pantry. Allison was surprised to see sugar cubes, still in their box.
“These are also for Mom. She likes them and I don’t ever use them, so they’re always here and I don’t run out.”
“Dare I ask how much time your mother spends at your house?”
Seth laughed easily. “Not all that much. She comes over to check on me about once a month or so. I go over there sometimes. My folks live in Bridgehaven, I grew up there.”
It was a town similar to their own Dinsdale, only without the addition of a large university. Another quintessential small town, with charming houses and main streets that still functioned as main streets. Allison had grown up in an even smaller and slightly less prosperous version of the same town, and knew the type well.
“Well, you already know I’m from Cranston. I grew up there, and my dad still lives there.”
“Cranston, Bridgehaven. Practically neighbors. So your dad lives there, how about your mom?”
Allison felt her jaw clenching. She still hated to be asked, hated the inevitable responses she had grown so familiar with over the years. “She died when I was sixteen.”
Seth paused, clearly thinking about his answer before speaking. “Sometime I want you to tell me about it, but I don’t think this is that time.”
Allison nodded, surprised at Seth’s reply. Nobody had ever done that, not expressed sorrow, not asked for details. Nobody had ever instinctively gotten that she might not want to talk about her mother’s death in the middle of a social event, just to satisfy somebody’s curiosity or to be polite.
She dangled the tea bag on its string, dunking it into the steaming water and enjoying the rising smell of bergamot. Earl Gray tea was her favorite, her standby. Her own mother had liked it too. If her mother were still alive, she wouldn’t need to make a special effort to have it on hand for visits because she always had it on hand anyway. Would her mother have made the trip once a month, driving the hour or so to see her? Her father had only visited her a few times since she had settled in Dinsdale. Usually Allison went home to see him.
“So…you came over. How’s it working out so far? You doing okay?”
Allison looked up at him warily, looking for sarcasm and feeling relieved when she saw none. Amusement, maybe. A little rue, perhaps. She felt bad about that. Seth had nothing to feel rueful over, her issues were her own and no fault of his.
“I’m sorry.” There, it was said, not enough but at least a start. “I guess I just panicked. This whole thing is kind of backward from the way I usually do things, and I don’t really know where we are.”
“Backward?”
“Well, you know…we didn’t know each other, and then we just jumped into bed. Well, not into bed because it was on the computer, but still. And then we went on a date that wasn’t really a date and then I freaked out because I realized you didn’t even have my number and then we hopped into bed again. And the whole thing has been like that. And just so fast.”
He considered her words, frowning a little. “I don’t see it that way.”
“What do you mean? That’s what happened.”
“I think we knew each other and flirted for a few months, had a friendly lunch sort-of-date with some more flirting, and then I introduced you to a lot of my friends. So what if it was on the computer? I know most of them in real life. And then we got a little tipsy and went a little further than was probably wise, but I wouldn’t call it sex. And then I took you to breakfast the next morning, which most certainly was a date. Where you met my brother in person, also, although that part wasn’t planned. And then I found you online, because I didn’t want to wait until Monday to call you at work, which was the only phone number I had for you. And then I called you after you gave me your other numbers, and we texted, and then we got silly online again. Which was dumb, but still not sex. And then two days later we talked and I came over. And yes, at that point we just hopped into bed. Which was maybe a little soon, but I can’t say I regret it.”
“I didn’t say I regretted it.”
“Why wouldn’t you come over?”
She sighed, looking down at her tea. She had no idea how to articulate all the reasons she’d thought were so vital at the time. “I don’t really know.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that if you ever want me to make lasagna again for you.”
“Seriously? You made lasagna?”
“Yes. It was fucking delicious too.” He smirked, leaning over the island and flipping the tag on her tea bag string back and forth like a cat batting at a dangling toy. “I only make it like once a year. So you’re going to have to hang around at least that long to find out what you missed.”
“So what else did I miss out on?” She deliberately ignored his mention of a timeframe. “Can I have a spoon for this?”
“Sure.” He reached into the drawer closest to the sink and pulled out a spoon. Allison was grateful to have another prop to work with while Seth was talking. “I had dinner and wine. Nice Chilean red. It was just chilly enough to have the first fire of the year, and it was drawing really nicely by about nine, nine-thirty. Before that it was just a little smoky, I admit.” He was circling the island slowly, coming to a halt just behind her. He put an arm on either side of her, boxing her in against the counter’s edge and continuing to talk into her ear. “My plans included feeding you some dark chocolate for dessert, sitting in front of the fire with the last of the wine.”
“Feeding me?”
“Yes. By hand. Shh, you’re ruining the story.”
“Sorry.” She tried to take deep breaths, willing her heart to stop its sudden pounding.
“I was planning to seduce you with chocolate until you were lulled into a sense of security then sneak your clothes off while I distracted you with kisses.” He nudged her hair aside with his nose, seeking and finding the sensitive skin behind her ear. “Like this. Then once I had you naked and at my mercy, I was going to spend some serious quality time eating your pussy, which is also fucking delicious.” He sucked her earlobe between his lips and Allison felt his chuckle at her whimpering response. “So is there any chance you would have returned the favor right then?”
“Like a fat kid with an ice cream cone on a hot day,” she confirmed with a cheeky grin, and then winced away at his howl of laughter, too close to her ear for comfort.
“Oh my God. Okay, okay, now I’m all off track. Wow.” He pressed closer, letting her feel his arousal, pressing hard and hot against the small of her back. As if unable to resist, he slipped one hand from the counter and ran it from her stomach up to
cup her breast, squeezing the tender flesh gently and then seeking out her nipple to pluck at it with his thumb and forefinger. “Okay. So after all that, I guess I’d have taken you upstairs to see the bedroom. So you could admire the decor, you know.”
“You have decor on your ceiling?”
He snorted and bit gently at her neck. “Mirrors and dirty pictures, of course. And you should see the bedspread.”
“More dirty pictures?”
“No, it’s sort of a brown plaid. But if you were looking at the bedspread, it would mean you were in my bedroom.”
“I see.”
“And that would be a good thing.” He had snuck his hand under her lightweight sweater and was fondling her now through the lace of her bra. “Although this kitchen island is looking pretty good right about now.”
“I’m good either way.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Oh, nice.” But she couldn’t really complain, not when his tongue was making sweet love to her ear and his fingers were busy teasing her nipples until she felt ready to scream for more.
“But have you had dinner yet?”
It took her a moment to adjust to the question. “Um, no?” She had taken only a few bites of her hamburger and eaten half a container of fries. That didn’t really constitute “dinner” in Allison’s mind.
“Let’s go out.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Nope.”
She felt ready to pounce on the man and rip his clothes off, and he wanted to go out for dinner? What was going on?
Allison’s first thought was that she had somehow screwed up again. But looking at Seth’s face as he pulled away from her and took her hand to lead her out to his car, she saw only happy anticipation.
* * * * *
“All just part of my nefarious plan,” Seth assured Allison.
They were seated at a table for two in the dimly lit restaurant, a small storefront about fifteen minutes from Seth’s house that featured cafe cuisine for lunch but a more refined menu at dinner. They had a decent wine list and were a little out of the price range of most students, so a lot of faculty members frequented the place.
This evening, for instance, they had already run into two of Seth’s colleagues and their wives, one couple just leaving and one just starting their meal as Seth and Allison sat down. As they ordered, Allison saw her department chairperson walk in with her husband.
“It’s like an annex,” she whispered, looking around while trying hard not to seem as though she was looking around. “I had no idea.”
“Neither did I. And we mostly just know our two departments. Well, I know some people from Math and Physics. I don’t know if they ever eat out. But just imagine how many more of us there might be in here. We should just stand up and ask for a show of hands.”
She giggled at the idea, earning a grin from Seth and an amused smile from her department chair, who had stopped at the table on the way to her own. There was a glint in her eyes as she looked at her young colleague occupied in what was so clearly a romantic dinner.
“Allison. Glad to see you off the computer. And with a real person.”
“Hi, Dr. Drayton. Dr. Margaret Drayton, Dr. Seth Brantley. Seth is in Economics, Dr. Drayton is the dean of my department.” They all shook hands cordially and Allison was ludicrously pleased that Seth didn’t seem daunted by the introduction. “And this is her husband, Robert. Hi, Bob. This is Seth.”
“Hi, Allison. Good to meet you, Seth. Place is getting pretty crowded huh? C’mon Maggie, the gal is waiting for us over there. Don’t want to keep her waiting too long, she’ll make us sit near the kitchen. You have a good night there, professors.”
“Thanks, we will. You too.”
Once the older couple was out of earshot, Seth murmured, “Interesting couple. What does he do?”
People often made the assumption, based on Robert’s folksy charm and casual attire, that he was some sort of blue-collar worker. They couldn’t have been more wrong.
“He’s probably the most expensive trial lawyer in the state.”
“Seriously?”
“That reaction you’re having? That would be why he’s so successful.”
“I see. I get it. The Matlock effect.”
She nodded and toyed with the stem of her wineglass, tipping the glass slightly to watch the way the golden liquid clung to the side, so unlike water in its behavior. As if it didn’t quite want to leave the glass and could never be completely coaxed out by the drinker. Some drops would always remain, until they were washed away or evaporated over time.
“I must need more of this. I’m getting all metaphorical about things. It can’t be a good sign,” Allison said.
Seth raised a hand instantly to flag the waiter down, ordering two more glasses of chardonnay.
“So are you going to tell me what your cold feet were all about? Or just let me figure it out from context clues?”
“I would tell you if I knew.”
“Just talk to me about it. Tell me what you do know.”
“Who’s the psychologist now? Okay, okay. I guess I just got scared of what was going on. I told you about the guy I last went out with. Was living with, actually. And it ended badly, not because we were nasty to each other or anything, but just because I realized after we broke up that I wasn’t all that beat up about it. I mean, I’d been living with this man. We were engaged. We would’ve gotten married once he was done with grad school. But then I realized I wasn’t in love with him, I was settling. I nearly made the biggest mistake of my life though. How could I have been that far off the mark?”
“Was the end really the first time you’d thought it wasn’t right?”
Allison thought about what Lindy had said, that her body language had always suggested she would never end up with James. That nobody who knew her had ever thought she would actually marry him. “I guess not. It just seemed like the right thing to be doing at the time. Like it was time to do the part of my life where I got married, had a family. That was what my parents had done; it seemed like a good thing to do. I’d always assumed I would do all that someday. And this guy came along who was nice enough and seemed to like me and wasn’t a nut case, so I figured that was what was supposed to happen.”
“What finally made you decide to end it? I’m assuming you were the one who ended it.”
She screwed up her mouth with displeasure at the memory, and started by giving Seth her stock answer. “It’s embarrassing, but really he made it very easy. When he finished his MBA, he was supposed to go take this internship at a consulting firm, something he’d had set up for months. It was in Indianapolis. Then one night right before the end of the semester, he gets all upset, and finally he says it’s because he didn’t see me making plans to move to Indianapolis with him.”
She took a swig of wine, trying to bolster her confidence. “I had just gotten settled here as a full-time staff member, and I wasn’t about to leave. I love it here. I love the department, the town, everything. We’d talked about how he wanted to move to the city. But I couldn’t quite believe he would really expect me to move, when it came down to it. That he really wasn’t willing to work out any sort of compromise. And then I realized I wasn’t even considering the possibility of moving. It didn’t matter to me if he moved. I was staying because my home just wasn’t with him. My home was still back in Cranston, and my job and all my friends were here in Dinsdale. My life wasn’t with James, and it was never going to be, because the two of us just weren’t a family. I moved out and got my own apartment within a week. And James moved to Indianapolis.”
Seth had reached across the table to arch his fingertips over hers on the wineglass, running the pads of his fingers over her knuckles, over the delicate skin of her inner wrists. Now he wrapped his hands over hers more firmly.
“So how does that scare you off from my house?”
“I think maybe because you own it. It wasn’t James I misjudged, Seth, it was me. What would I have go
tten myself into if he hadn’t been planning to move away? I needed that to happen before I woke up and realized what I had almost done. I think I’ve always been so scared of getting hurt, I’ve never really let myself consider what my own dreams of a home and family look like. I didn’t want to set my heart on something and then lose it, so I always just put those thoughts out of my mind and told myself I didn’t really care one way or the other.
“You’re putting down roots here, Seth. You’re not going anywhere. You seem to know what you want out of life. I don’t. I’m still trying to figure out what my future is supposed to look like. Now I’m realizing I need to work through that, and I don’t want to avoid the issue by just latching on to somebody else’s dream like I did with James.”
She had been looking down at her hands, talking too fast, and now she had to force herself to look up to gauge Seth’s reaction. He wore the faintest smile, and Allison almost had the impression he was proud of her. Then he cracked a grin, letting the moment go.
“So if I were renting, you’d be all over it?”
She chuckled despite herself. He seemed to be taking her neurotic vagaries in stride, making her feel like she might not be as nuts as she sometimes felt.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not.”
“And if I were just this anonymous guy online, you could always just unplug the computer or change your screen name if you had a change of heart.”
“You already foiled that ingenious plan though.”
“What if I told you it was just about the sex and the computer games?”
“Is it?”
“No,” he admitted. “But you could tell yourself that if it helped, and I could try not to act quite so hopelessly smitten.”
She shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, and took a fortifying sip of wine. “We’re both rotten liars. That would never work out.”
HowtoTellaLie Page 12