“Do you want me to take you home?”
“No, back to the house is fine.”
“But you just got ten staples and seven stitches in your leg.”
He grinned. “I’m tough. After the fact, the pain I can deal with. It’s the treating of the wounds, not so much.”
She had noticed that he’d refused an offered prescription for painkillers.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll be walking on it for work on Saturday and Sunday anyway. It’s going to throb like a son of a gun. I’m not going to try driving just yet, though. Want to make sure I’m stable.”
Back at the house, he laughed as he saw the blood trail. “Holy hell, looks like a crime scene.”
“Do you want me to help you clean up?”
“No, I’m good. Seriously. The carpet’s coming up anyway.” He looked down at the dressing wrapped around his thigh. “Then again, I think I’m done ripping up carpet for today. I’ll have to work on something else.”
“What were those things you wanted me to look at?”
“Oh, let me show you.” He slowly limped over to a couple of boxes.
She knelt and started going through them. “There are a couple of things in here that might be worth something. Not a lot, probably twenty, thirty dollars to the right collector. I’d have to research them.”
“I don’t want you to go through that kind of trouble. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t, like, throwing away a fortune or something.”
“Nothing like that, as far as I can tell.”
“That’s good. Garrison would give me stink-eye if I did that.”
“So how long have you guys been married?”
He glanced at his wedding band. “Oh, we aren’t married yet. Long and complicated story.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were.”
“It’s…complicated. Look, can I invite you to come over to our place for dinner tonight to repay you for your help today?”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“Seriously. We’ll cook. Not here, obviously. No fridge or stove. I meant our apartment. It’s not far from here. Besides, Garrison would spank me in the bad way if I didn’t at least invite you over for dinner after what you did for me today. Please? If nothing else, let us give you an excuse to escape home for a few hours.”
He seemed like such a nice guy, and she really did need to get out more. “Okay, sure.”
“I’ll text you the address. Seven o’clock. Any food allergies?”
“Nope.”
“Cool.” He looked around. “I feel bad that I didn’t spend more time with my uncle. I went to see him a couple of times a month, at least, once he was at the nursing home. Had a lot of stuff going on over the past couple of years ourselves, though, that made it kind of hard. We were sort of wrapped up in our own situation. And he wasn’t one to be fussed over much, anyway, I guess. Mom said once Aunt Sharon died that he sort of became a loner.”
“Didn’t have any kids, huh?”
“No. Honestly, I was shocked when Mom called me and told me he’d left the place to me. I hadn’t expected it, and he hadn’t said anything to me about it. I figured she’d inherit everything.”
“He must have loved you.”
“I guess.” Jarred looked a little lost. “When people die, it changes a lot of stuff in your perspective.”
She didn’t miss how he played with the wedding band on his left hand. Now she’d admit to being curious about what it represented if he and Garrison weren’t married.
“Does it make me a horrible daughter to say I hope my dad doesn’t die first?”
He smiled, but it looked sad. “Considering what you’ve told me, I think it makes you very practical and I can’t blame you at all.”
* * * *
Jarred didn’t know what it was about Em, but the more time he spent around her, the more time he wanted to spend with her. Not just because she held his hand during his ER experience, or because she jumped in without hesitation to help him, but because he sensed a lost part of her soul also wandering around, homeless.
Kind of like he’d felt the past thirteen months.
Stop it.
Friends. Friends only. Garrison was absolutely right, and he knew it. He couldn’t project anything else onto Em other than friendship, no matter how good it’d felt being able to step back and let her sort of take charge of him, even though she hadn’t even realized that was what she was doing, or what he was letting her do.
In fact, he expected he’d probably get a thorough scolding from Garrison when he told him the whole story.
Jarred texted her their address before she even left. Once he was alone again, he heavily sat in one the dining room chairs and texted a quick message to Garrison.
Em’s coming to dinner tonight. 7. Can you please stop by the store and get stuff to make your fettuccine?
Jarred decided to leave out the whole ER visit for now. Garrison would no doubt call him during his lunch break to talk, and then Jarred could slide that little factoid in without scaring him via text.
Jarred looked around, realizing that no, he didn’t need to be kneeling and crawling on the floor with his injury. It would hurt like a motherfucker, and possibly rip something open. There were plenty of other things he could be doing, like sorting through the contents of the master bedroom and the other two bedrooms.
Turning the iPod up louder, he grabbed some garbage bags and headed toward the back of the house to take care of bagging up all the remaining clothes. Those he’d drop off at a donation kiosk he always passed on the way home.
As he started with a dresser, he tried to shove away thoughts of the last time he had to do a chore like this. Only then it had been him and Gare tackling it together.
Holding each other as they cried between each drawer, each item lovingly removed from a hanger in the closet.
A few items they couldn’t bear to part with because of the memories associated with them remained tucked away in a garment bag in the back of their closet.
After emptying all the clothes into garbage bags, either to load into his car for donations or to go out to the Dumpster for trash, Jarred stared around the master bedroom.
Already, he could envision their furniture in there. Maybe the walls painted a nice honey color, or something equally soothing.
Their retreat from the world.
I wonder where we should put her urn?
When he caught himself thinking those thoughts, he pinched his arm, hard, and then grabbed a bag designated as garbage and headed toward the front door to dispose of it.
Chapter Eight
Em called Mitchell to update him after she returned home.
“Good deed for the day, huh? Glad those classes we took paid off for more than just the occasional work ouchie.”
“Me, too. I’m going to work from here for the rest of the day.”
“You work too damn hard. When was the last time you took off two in a row?”
“I don’t need to take off two in a row right now.”
“Says you.” He chuckled. “At least you got a free meal out of it. Enjoy, and have fun tonight.”
When her parents returned later, Em waited until her mother had retreated without comment to their bedroom and closed the door behind her to ask what had happened at the appointments.
Her father looked exhausted. “Oh, she’s sulking, of course.”
“Well, I hate to do this to you, but she can sulk without me tonight. I have plans.” She gave her father the quick version of events.
“Wow. Good thing you were here to help him. Go have fun. We’ll be fine. I’ll heat us up leftovers for dinner.”
“If she tries to call, warn her I’m going to ignore it.”
He smiled. “I’m going to tell her you’re working.”
“So when do we start getting results?”
“Not for at least a week or so. We go back next week to talk to the doctor and get the first round of test re
sults. We’ll see where to go from there.”
Em dropped her voice. “So how’s she been besides sulking?”
“Still insisting there’s nothing wrong with her.”
“And the moving out?”
“Changes the subject every time. Don’t worry. Like it or not, we’ll be moving.”
Guilt washed through her again. “I mean, as long as there’s not anything medically wrong with her.”
Her father placed his hands on her shoulders. “If there is, while I appreciate you wanting to help, depending on what it is, one of those retirement communities will be the best choice. People trained to deal with medical issues in people our ages. We’ll wait and see. She might need nothing more than a swift kick in the ass, for all I know.”
She returned his smile. “Maybe that’s the best we can hope for.”
“You have fun tonight, and if your mother calls, ignore it.”
* * * *
“Thanks for taking care of the dumbass for me,” Garrison joked after their greeting upon Em’s arrival at their apartment.
She laughed, knowing from the teasing tone in Garrison’s voice that he hadn’t meant it in a mean way. “No problem. Least I could do.” She loved that she felt so at ease around the men.
“She wasn’t the slightest bit squeamish,” Jarred said. “You should have seen her. She jumped right into action. Magnificent.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank the Red Cross and their training class.”
Even though Em had set her phone to vibrate, she almost halfway expected it to start going off at any time. That would be her mom’s usual MO, unless her dad really did keep her on a tight leash tonight.
Normally, Em was used to ignoring up to several calls a night from her mom when she went out with friends.
Not that she did that very much lately.
Em cut off that line of thought. “Can I help with anything?”
“Nope,” Jarred assured her, leading her to the living room and getting her seated on the couch. “You’re our guest. What can I get for you to drink? Soda? Iced tea? Beer? Wine?”
“Just tea, please. Thanks.”
“Sugar?”
“No, that’s okay.”
His smile broadened. “Coming right up.”
“I feel guilty that you’re injured and taking care of me,” she called after him. “Shouldn’t you be keeping off that for now?”
“Nah, it’s fine. It’ll be sore in the morning, but I’ll get used to it.”
She thought back to his comment earlier that day. “A masochist, huh?”
His grin lit up his face. “You have no idea.”
She opted to leave it at that and settled back against the couch. Their apartment was neat, tidy, homey as much as it could be, she supposed. Bookshelves on one wall of the living room were filled floor-to-ceiling with not just books, but also DVDs and even pictures.
Including several of the men flanking a woman. They looked happy together, the men staring at her as if she were the center of their universe.
As if both of them were in love with her.
Then, as Em’s gaze travelled a little farther, it fell upon what was most likely an urn occupying one shelf. Surrounding it were several pictures, of the woman alone, and of her with the two men.
“Here you go.” Jarred had her glass in his hand.
“Thank you.” Whatever was cooking smelled delicious. “Do you have a lot of friends over?”
“Not lately, no. Not as much as we probably should. Once we’re moved into the house, we hope to start entertaining again like we used to.” He reached out and touched her shoulder. “You’re invited, obviously.” His smile widened.
“Thanks. Like I warned you, you might regret that invite if I can’t get rid of my parents. You’ll be sick of me hiding out at your place.”
“Not a chance,” Garrison called out from the kitchen, where he could easily hear their conversation. “You’re always welcome.”
He emerged with a large pot in his hands, which he set on a hot pad in the middle of the table. “I hope you brought your appetite.” He’d also set out a large bowl of salad and she smelled garlic bread being toasted.
“I’m not used to being waited on like this. You sure I can’t pitch in and do something? Help out?”
“Absolutely not,” Jarred said. “You’re our guest. Let us serve you tonight.”
It almost seemed like Garrison shot Jarred an…odd look, but it disappeared as fast as it had flashed across his face. He returned to the kitchen, and then she wasn’t even sure she’d seen it in the first place.
“Dinner’s on.” Garrison returned with a tray of garlic bread fresh from under the broiler in the oven.
Jarred held her chair for her and she couldn’t fight the blush in her cheeks. “I feel pampered. Thank you. This was very sweet of you. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for me.”
Hell, they’d set formal place settings and even used a table cloth. At home, fancy was if they used regular silverware with the paper plates and didn’t eat sitting on the couch.
“No trouble at all,” Garrison assured her. “It’s…it’s been a while since we’ve felt like entertaining. This gives us a good excuse to get back into it.”
When he and Jarred were both seated at the table, Garrison held up his glass of tea. “Thank you for joining us tonight, Em. To new friends.”
She smiled, holding up her tea. “To new friends.” She clinked glasses with them.
“Hear, hear,” Jarred said.
* * * *
As dinner progressed, Garrison knew exactly what Jarred was up to with the kinds of small talk he was trying to make. This wasn’t simply a “thank you” dinner for Em helping him out earlier.
It was a “let’s test the water” kind of dinner.
“Feel free to tell me to mind my own business,” she eventually said, “but you guys aren’t married to each other, but you’re a couple?”
“Jarred’s legally widowed,” Garrison said. “Technically, so am I.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She looked down at her plate for a moment. “There I go putting my foot in it again. I just assumed you two were together as a couple. I mean, that’s not a problem for me. Mitchell and Brent are married, and they’re my bosses and my best friends.”
“We are a couple,” Garrison said. Their situation was no secret amongst their closest friends, the ones who’d be stopping by for dinner or to hang out once they were moved.
Em might as well know the truth now. Because eventually, it would come out, and better for her to be wigged out by it now rather than later. Besides, it was obvious Jarred would do his damnedest to make friends with Em, so she might as well know about them.
Em looked confused, and rightfully so. “I’m not sure I’m tracking.”
Jarred started to speak but Garrison shot him a be quiet look. “How open minded are you?”
“Um, I was best man at Mitchell and Brent’s wedding when gay marriage became legal, if that’s what you mean. Why?”
“Okay, that’s good. Are you familiar with non-monogamy at all?”
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Like what, exactly?”
“Plural relationships.”
She glanced over at Jarred and then back to him. “I have friends who apparently have a three-way relationship going, a woman who does some graphic work for our company. But I haven’t asked them any nosy questions about it. They’re all adults.”
“Okay, good. That’s what we had with Janis. We were both her slaves, and we were both in love with her. She was in love with us. We all lived together and were in a poly triad.”
He could see her digesting at as she blinked in surprise. “Slaves?”
“Real-life slaves,” Garrison said. “And no, it’s not like the porn you see on the Internet. At least, not what the three of us had. She had to be very discreet because of her job, so most of what we did was either at home or private parties.”
“Is tha
t the woman in the pictures in the living room?” she quietly asked.
He nodded. “And her urn. The only reason we’re being this open with you, this honest, is because our group of friends mostly have some sort of non-traditional lifestyle. We’re not going to be parading around naked in the yard or anything. But if you hang around with our group for any length of time, you’re liable to hear or see things that are not vanilla. We’d rather warn you now, to let you know that, so that you’re prepared.”
“Oookay?” It was more a question, not a dismissal.
“We understand if that’s not your thing, or if that makes you uncomfortable. I’d rather we’re honest with you up front. That way, if you’re not cool with it, no worries. But we don’t want to hurt your feelings if we don’t invite you over when we invite friends who aren’t vanilla over. Also, so if your mom’s home and decides she wants to come knock on our front door to borrow a cup of sugar, you can head her off at the pass. See what I mean?”
“Yeah.” She seemed to be mulling it over. He ignored Jarred’s nervous stare from the other side of the table. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to leave you hanging. It doesn’t shock me, but thanks for the warning.” She chuckled. “I’ve been to a couple of adult parties that Mitchell and Brent have thrown. Sometimes it’s just fun to sit back and people watch, you know?”
“Exactly. Thank you for being so understanding.”
“Did your families know about the three of you being together?”
“Janis was estranged from her parents. They divorced when she was a kid, and once she left home she really didn’t have much to do with either of them. But Jarred’s parents and mine, they knew the three of us were an item. Not all the details. They used to tease us that Janis ruled the roost. They just didn’t know how accurate they were.”
She winced. “I swear I wasn’t born in a barn, and I actually do have manners. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry for your loss. Both of you.”
“It was thirteen months ago,” Garrison said. “We’re trying to move on, and Jarred inheriting his uncle’s house seems to be a way to finally start doing just that. Did you want more pasta?”
Switchy [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Page 8