Dorian had not told me. Dorian had not contacted me at all since we’d left this very spot days before.
‘Good, good,’ I said, feigning knowledge. ‘Glad he’s getting what he wants.’
I bit my tongue then. Even I could hear the acid that laced the comment. Matt smiled and ran a hand through his hair. He either hadn’t noticed or was pretending not to notice. ‘You look good. Very bright and beautiful on a not so pretty day.’
I felt myself blushing. A twist of excitement curled in my belly but a small splinter of discomfort wormed its way in as well. I ignored it. I had told Dorian no, he’d taken me at my word, we were moving on. This was good. This was healthy. Soon, I wouldn’t even have to work near or for him. I’d be free of him utterly.
That made my stomach hurt. Not from excitement but from something that felt suspiciously like dread.
I shook it off and leaned against the wall, studiously avoiding the nook where my bare ass had rested the last time I’d had Dorian Martin inside me.
‘Thank you. I was trying to shake off a …’ I shrugged, crossed my legs at the ankle. ‘Mood. I had a mood going.’
He chuckled. ‘Been there before. The funky mood. My mom used to call me Eeyore when I got that way.’ Matt laughed, then put his hands in the small of his back and bent until I heard a crack.
‘Oh!’ I shrieked and then laughed. ‘Did that hurt?’
‘No. It felt great.’
‘Sounded painful.’ I kept trying to ignore the flash of flat, tan belly I had seen when he’d done it.
The best way to get over a man was to move forward. Matt seemed like a brilliant way to move forward. On top of that, he’d shown interest in me first so he was safe.
‘Not at all. After a few hours of this work you start to feel like you have a donkey standing on your back. So what about it, Clover?’ he said, grinning.
‘What about what?’
‘What about you let me take you on a date? Dinner? Dancing in your pretty dress? A movie?’
I almost blurted, ‘What, no Nantucket?’ but realised it would only be funny to me and even then … not so funny at all.
‘I’d love to.’ I forced myself to say it, though it made my heart feel leaden. Not because I didn’t like him but because I was still stinging from Dorian’s picture in the paper.
What nerve he has moving on when you told him to. When you told him there was absolutely no chance for the two of you.
It made no sense – me being upset – and yet I felt the way I felt.
‘Tonight? I can run home, change, pick you up and we can … do what?’
I shrugged. ‘What sounds good?’
‘Whatever will make you happy.’
It came to me and I laughed.
‘What?’ Matt asked.
‘Nothing.’
‘Come on, tell me. What?’
‘Have you ever … gone ice skating before? The Hilltop rink is open for the season.’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The rest of the day sort of drifted past. My attention was distracted by thinking of Dorian with mixed emotions, ranging from wistful to sad to angry to hopeless. Then I’d drag my thoughts to Matt. Cute and handsome and sweet. We had a date. He only had one flaw.
‘He’s not Dorian,’ I said softly, putting the final paperwork for the marble work in the appropriate file.
Mario and his men were officially done with the touch-ups of the dome room. The dome was good to go. I had gotten a call on my walkie-talkie and figured I’d take a walk down there to see before heading home for the day.
To get ready for my date.
It wasn’t lost on me, when I let myself consider it, that I had chosen a date that was the antithesis of the one with Dorian. My date with Dorian had been the epitome of extravagance. He’d taken me to the beach for lobster in the sun and lounging on a blanket. I was going out with Matt to a frozen place where we would probably fall down on ice and eat bad steamed hot dogs and cardboard pizza.
I was tearing down a path of self-analysis and it was uncomfortable. I grabbed my bag and headed towards the tower room. As I passed the shops I realised soon they would be lit up and functioning again. The store where I’d nabbed my jeans would be manned by snooty saleswomen who’d snicker behind their hands if I walked in to even look at their overpriced clothes.
I hurried on, my shoes clacking on the tile floor, a haunting sound since the whole place seemed deserted. The men had headed out to a local pizza joint for lunch and I was almost positive I was the only one in the building. When I turned the corner I stopped as if caught in quicksand.
The bed. Our bed. The bed we’d shared. The bed that I’d woken in, struggling, yelling, panicking. Woken to strong arms and gentle words and … kindness.
I stood, staring, wishing I could afford the stupid thing. I’d probably be unable to sleep in it because of the ache and want it would provoke, but I loved it anyway. Loved the memory of feeling safe in his arms despite being in the most unsafe situation I could remember.
‘Keep moving,’ I said to myself. I wandered on – me and the ghost of Dorian – down to the dome room.
I stepped in, as always, feeling like I was immersing myself in water. Only this room was haunted now too. To my left I saw us quite vividly on the settee. Him giving me control. Him letting me have what I needed to feel safe.
Him.
Jesus. What the fuck had happened to me? I had been a girl who could take or leave most guys. No one had ever really touched my heart. I’d always wondered if it would happen for me. If I was broken in some way. Now that it had, I seemed to be doing everything short of moving heaven and earth to push it away.
I sat on our settee, now shrouded in a paint cloth, and stared up at the stained glass. I wished it held the secrets I was looking for. Why I had pushed Dorian away. Why I thought I was so unworthy. Why I was … an idiot.
‘Too late,’ I told the dome. I snorted. ‘He’s living it up in gay Paris! Oui, oui!’
‘I didn’t know you spoke French.’
I jumped.
‘Mario!’ I laughed softly, feeling pretty foolish. ‘You scared me.’
He waved a foil-wrapped triangle at me. ‘Came to see if you wanted half my sandwich. That pizza place makes subs that could sink a boat. And you –’ he nodded at me ‘– you look as if you’re not eating enough. Maybe not sleeping enough.’
I blushed. ‘What are you doing, Mario? Mothering me?’
He chuckled. ‘Nah. That would be the wife’s job. And trust me, if she got a hold of you it would be much worse. Me, I’m just offering you a sandwich. And an ear if you need one.’
I pressed my lips together. I was far from hungry but hadn’t really eaten anything today. Just some coffee and a whole lot of memories. I put my hand out and he grinned before placing the sandwich in my hand.
‘What kind is it?’ My stomach rumbled as soon as I touched it.
‘Italian. Lettuce, tomato, mayo, light hots, no oil,’ he said. He came and sat by me on the settee.
My cheeks flushed to have him sitting there with me where Dorian and I had been intimate, but I said nothing. How could I?
‘So, while you’re eating,’ he said softly, as if not to spook me, ‘what’s eating you, Clover?’
‘Nothing.’ It was an automatic response.
He rolled his eyes and hung his head, dramatically shaking it. ‘What is it with you women and the word “nothing”? Whenever something is wrong and us poor men ask you, you say, nothing. But it’s clear by your tone and your look and your demeanour that nothing is something.’ He patted my knee in a very fatherly gesture. It clogged my throat up, me being the girl without a dad. ‘’Fess up,’ he said. ‘It’s a gender-wide plot to make all men insane. Right?’
I laughed and finally took a bite of the sandwich. It tasted like heaven. ‘You caught us,’ I admitted.
‘Well, if you decide you’d like to tell me what nothing really means, I promise to listen and not be all fixy
.’
‘Fixy?’
He nodded. ‘Yes. My wife says when women talk to men they just want us to hear them. Not fix them. She trained me ages ago to not be so fixy. That’s how she puts it.’
‘Ah, wise woman,’ I said.
‘The wisest.’ He winked. ‘I just wanted you to know you have a friend, Clover. You’re always so good to us here. You treat us like people. And you deserve the same. And sometimes …’ He patted me once more before standing. ‘People need to talk.’
I watched him go and finished off the sandwich. I found that once I started eating, my appetite was off the charts. I had wanted to ask him a question, but hadn’t found the nerve.
Maybe tomorrow.
* * *
‘You look awesome.’ Matt leaned against the railing that overlooked the ski rink.
For some reason I’d insisted I meet him there instead of him picking me up. Maybe I didn’t want Brani and Gram to see him. Maybe I didn’t want to admit this was a date. I had no idea. I had hit a point where I was trying not to analyse myself too much lest I go nuts.
‘You mean colourful,’ I said with a laugh.
I’d put all my stress and sadness into the back of my mind and tried to dress the way I did when I was a teenager if we went skating. I wore dark lipstick-red tights, cream-coloured slouch socks that scrunched above my rented skates. My skirt was black and swingy and my sweater was a Fair Isle knit. I had a cream-coloured beanie on my head and my hair was in pigtails. I was running from my pain by creating a festive candy coating. And I was OK with that.
‘I mean great,’ Matt said, reaching out to tug my pigtail. ‘Can I kiss you?’ he asked.
The question shocked me. I nodded before I could talk myself out of it.
Matt gripped my elbows as if he thought I’d try to run away. He leaned forward and I got a hit of his scent. He smelled like sun and beach and waves despite it being fall outside and damn near winter in here. His mouth touched mine and I tried not to go rigid. After a moment, I relaxed into it, kissing him back.
It was nice.
But that was it. It was nice. There was no sensation of fireworks and shortness of breath and God-kiss-me-again-before-I-die. I told myself it was too soon to feel those things. Because it was.
‘Should we skate?’ I asked after another soft kiss.
He smiled crookedly at me. He really did have the nicest eyes. And the nicest demeanour. ‘Sure.’
We shuffled out onto the ice like two decrepit beings. It was quite comical and I found myself snickering the whole way.
‘I really don’t know why you think this is so funny,’ he said, chuckling and clutching the rink wall so he didn’t go down in a heap. ‘This was your idea.’
I put my hands on my knees and practically guffawed as his right leg went out in front of him, almost in a split. ‘I forgot,’ I panted, when I could stop laughing and start talking again ‘how hard skating is on the legs. And I also realise –’ And then I went down fast and hard, as my tight-clad legs shot out from under me, spread wide and, I’m sure, offering everyone a shot of the navy-blue underpants beneath.
Matt was now the one laughing, trying very hard to reach out and help me up without letting go of the safety of the rink wall.
‘Realise what?’ he asked as I grabbed his hand and tried to get up.
‘That I’ve forgotten how to skate, pretty much,’ I snorted. I was almost up when I lost my balance again, tipping back, pulling him away from the wall. We both went down this time, a heap of tangled arms and legs on the frigid ice, while those who knew what they were doing whizzed past us. Some kids at the far end were pointing and laughing and I couldn’t help but join them.
‘Maybe we could just go for some coffee?’ he said, tucking one pigtail behind my ear.
I nodded. ‘That sounds like the most brilliant idea I’ve heard in ages!’
* * *
I Like ’Em Sweet is on the original promenade of Hampden known as ‘the Avenue’. We went there. Me in my crazy outfit that now looked crazier with the skates missing and ankle-high leather boots in their place. Matt didn’t seem to mind.
‘What are you?’ He looked up, pretending to think. ‘I bet you’re a chocolate girl.’
‘I do love chocolate,’ I said, nodding. ‘But I love something even more.’
‘Diamonds?’
I laughed. ‘Well …’
‘Not banana, is it?’ Matt asked. ‘Because if it’s banana then I’m afraid this date is over.’
I shook my head. He was so funny. Nice. Handsome. He was all the things girls swoon for, and I found him attractive – but off limits. Something inside me was keeping Matt at arm’s length.
‘So you’re a banana bigot, is that it?’
‘Artificial banana tastes like candles. How do people eat it?’
He took my hand and squeezed as we headed towards the bakery. I let him hold it for a moment and then gently extricated myself. ‘Not banana,’ I told him.
‘Second worst is artificial strawberry.’ He winked. The wink reminded me of Dorian. An unexpected and utterly irrational wave of anger swept through me.
‘Not strawberry,’ I said, looking straight ahead. ‘I have a total and utter weakness for cinnamon,’ I said.
‘Ah, cinnamon! Well, that I can get on board with. I hear they have a super cinnamon coffee cake here that will knock your socks off.’
We both looked down at my huge slouch socks. ‘That’s a lot of sock to knock off,’ I snorted.
He put his hand at the small of my back and together we went inside. ‘Let’s give it a shot,’ Matt said.
The door swung shut behind us and I was saddened to realise how I felt about that. I felt … trapped.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘I think it’s dead.’
We were sitting down the road from I Like ’Em Sweet and my car was kaput. I turned the key once more just to be sure. Nothing. A dry click that might as well be mocking me.
‘I think it is,’ I sighed. ‘I have call emergency road service and –’
‘It’s the battery,’ Matt said and grinned at me through the open car door.
‘I thought you did marble, not engines.’
‘Actually, before I decided on marble, I worked in a garage. If I take your battery out and inform the owner of this small store that you’ll be parked here indefinitely, I can get you a new battery in the morning and come down and put it in myself. Then I can bring you to your car. It’ll save you the fee of a car assistance truck and a mechanic.’
‘Are you sure? That seems like way too much work for someone who just had a bad first date with me.’
He laughed. ‘Once we got on solid land and stopped falling down it was awesome.’ His eyes looked darker in the light from the street lamps. ‘Even the falling down was pretty awesome.’
I felt myself blushing and was glad the interior light of my car was dead. ‘I’d feel like I was taking advantage.’
‘But you’re not. I offered. So, let me take the battery out and then drop you at home. I can take care of the rest in the morning.’
‘Do you need my keys?’
‘Unless you want to leave the car unlocked so I can get to the hood release.’
‘Keys it is.’ I got out of the car, locked it and gave him the keys. I watched him remove the battery. He had a bag of tricks with him from his car parked a few spaces back. ‘Why do you need the battery?’ I asked. ‘Just out of curiosity.’
‘Most places won’t let you buy a new one unless you turn in an old one. It’s how they make sure batteries are being recycled properly and not just dumped wherever people feel like dumping them.’
‘Hunh,’ I said. ‘You learn something new every day.’
‘That you do,’ he chuckled. ‘For example, I learned that you are a really fun person to be around. I suspected, but now it’s confirmed.’
‘You too,’ I said, feeling shy. But something in my chest crimped painfully. That shy feeling wou
ld lead nowhere. I couldn’t lead him on and I couldn’t fool myself about how I felt when we were together.
I had decided to give it a try in the beginning, now I realised it would only hurt Matt.
‘About that ride?’
Matt grabbed the battery, slammed the hood and jerked his head. ‘Come on, then. Don’t just stand there all night looking cute.’
I snorted and followed him towards his car. It was a real kick in the ass that I couldn’t like this man the way I needed to in order to date him. I figured if things between me and Dorian had never happened, I’d be dying for him to give me a call for a second date.
He left me at the door with a chaste kiss on the forehead and the promise: ‘I’ll come get you to take you to your car in the morning. Eight-thirty good?’
I nodded. ‘Great.’
He brushed a loose section of hair out of my eyes and said, ‘You know, I’d be giving you a serious kiss if I thought you wanted it. But there’s something you want that I can’t give you.’
I felt like an ass. Especially when he said, ‘I hope you get it, though. You deserve it.’
* * *
Inside the house, Brani came rushing up to me, her face a mask of concern.
‘Are you OK? Gram? Why are you still here?’ The questions rushed out of me too fast for either of us to process.
She put her hand on my arm. ‘Gladys is fine. If anything she’d getting annoyed with all the post-fall attention now.’ Brani smiled at me. ‘You know how she is when things are out of the ordinary.’
‘I do … but?’
‘But what?’
‘Brani, you practically ran out here to see me. What’s going on?’
‘Well, you know what a softy your grandmother is … especially when there’s love.’
Uh-oh.
‘And we didn’t know he was as drunk as he was …’
I made a sound that was half sigh, half wheeze. ‘Who?’
Dumb question.
‘Who do you think?’ she said, cocking her eyebrow. ‘Do you have a bevy of men hopelessly in love with you?’
‘Jesus,’ I snapped.
‘No, I think his name is Dorian.’
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