by Sarah Kleck
I shrugged apologetically. “It’s perfect for us.”
A sad expression spread across Grace’s face even though she tried to suppress it. “OK,” she said, then turned and stirred her dough again.
Although Grace could have afforded to live alone, she preferred not to. At first, she wouldn’t accept my help searching for a roommate, but I begged her, and she finally relented. We placed an ad on the bulletin board in the student center and held a veritable casting marathon. No one was good enough for Grace.
“Excuse me? She was totally uptight! Out of the question,” she complained when I almost believed we’d found The One.
“What am I to do, Grace?” I was nearly desperate. It was as if she were sabotaging all my efforts to seriously look for a new roommate.
“I really don’t understand you, Grace,” I lost my temper after another roomie casting on Saturday. “You were the one who insisted on hitching me up with Holden, and now you’re holding it against me I actually fell in love with him!”
She clenched her teeth, staring angrily at me. “I wanted you to have a really good lay!” she yelled at me. “Not for the two of you to shack up!”
I looked at her in disbelief. Whatever I meant to say, it got stuck in my throat. “You’re not serious,” I squeezed out.
“I am.” She angrily crossed her arms over her chest.
“Good to know,” I said, then turned and left her standing there.
“What’s with you?” Holden asked when I stood outside his door ten minutes later.
Wildly gesticulating, I told him about the argument with Grace. “She can look for a new roommate on her own!”
Holden slipped his arm around me to put me into a forgiving mood. “She’s afraid of losing you,” he said.
“If she keeps this up, she will,” I grumbled.
Suddenly, his eyes widened as if he’d just had the idea of the century.
“Kyle’s also losing a roommate,” he said excitedly. “It’s going to be hard to find someone who can hack his weirdness.”
“Is that supposed to be a joke? Grace and Kyle?”
“Why not? I’m sure they’d get along well.”
I looked at him, frowning. “Underwear-in-the-hallway Kyle and there’s-no-party-I’ll-miss Grace?”
“Yup. Just think about it.” Holden was enthusiastic about his idea. “They’re getting along with each other, aren’t they?”
I nodded pensively. True enough. The few times they’d met, they seemed to have been on the same wavelength. And because Kyle was not at all Grace’s type sexually, there was no need to fear a tragedy. They could live together as friends.
“It’s also cheaper than your place,” he said as if his last doubts had been overcome.
When Kyle came home, Holden asked him straight out if he could imagine Grace moving into the place.
“Sure,” was his one-word answer.
“That was easy,” I marveled.
Holden beamed. “Now all that’s left is for you to convince Grace.”
I burst out a tortured laugh. “Well, if that’s all . . .”
For the life of me, I still have no idea how I did it. Maybe Grace felt guilty about giving me such a hard time. Maybe she felt at ease with Kyle, so she preferred him to a stranger. I had no idea what made the difference, but Grace moved into Kyle’s, and Holden and I moved into our first shared place. Naturally, Grace and I didn’t see each other as often as we used to when we lived together. Still, we emphasized our quality time together. Holden never minded. He used the time to train or meet his baseball buddies.
In mid-October, Grace and I were sitting together in our favorite café and drinking cappuccinos.
“I can tell you the boxer shorts aren’t Kyle’s only quirk.”
I had to smile. After all, I’d had the privilege of getting to know my boyfriend’s former roomie a bit since Holden and I had been together. “Do tell!”
“Well,” she began excitedly. “Yesterday I was in the bathroom doing my hair.”
I knew all too well how long that took Grace and guessed where this was heading. Grace, who’d block a bathroom for hours, and a housemate who had urgent business in said space. My grin broadened.
“So, he knocked on the door—and do you know what he said?” she asked, outraged.
“No, what?” I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing out loud.
Grace bent toward me, her eyes widening. A dramatic pause, then, imitating Kyle’s voice, she said, “Are you done? My plug is about to pop!”
I laughed so hard cappuccino foam went down the wrong pipe, and I had to hold on to the table through the entire coughing fit.
Grace rolled her eyes patting my back. “It isn’t funny,” she admonished me.
“But it is,” I coughed.
“How’s it going with you and Holden?” she suddenly asked. Presumably to change the topic as fast as possible.
“Good.” I didn’t dare tell her just how well. I didn’t want to give her cause to be jealous—or, more jealous.
“Have you had a fight yet?” Grace asked. I had the feeling she’d dig until she’d found something. She would have probably preferred to hear I regretted my decision and wanted to move in with her again as soon as possible. Grace’s continuous stream of affairs, flings, and one-night stands weren’t going to make her happy in the long run. She clung to her girlfriends because she lacked a steady male partner by her side. What she probably wanted at that point was for us to live together again and for me to be happy with a few dates a month. She almost made me feel as if I were cheating on her with Holden.
“No,” I finally answered. “No fights. To be honest, it’s great between us.” I sounded snippy, and she looked upset. I calmed down, took a deep breath, and said, “I’m really happy with him, Grace.”
She looked at me with surprise. She swallowed and averted her eyes.
For a moment, it was silent between us.
“Come on,” I said to brighten the mood, “tell me another Kyle story.”
“How was your day, honey?” Holden asked when I came in the door from my last day at the lab for the school year.
“Great.” I put my bag in a corner and pulled off my shoes. “We finally completed the test protocol—this means I’m rid of my unbearable lab partner. Summer break—here I come! Yay!”
“If that isn’t a reason to party”—Holden went to the fridge to pull out a bottle of champagne— “that I’m about to graduate certainly is.”
“Champagne?” I asked cautiously. “Can we afford it?” This kind of extravagance wasn’t exactly affordable with my scholarship, Holden’s student loan, and the suit and briefcase he needed to buy for job interviews.
“It’s not expensive. Don’t worry.” He filled two coffee mugs to the rim with the fizzy liquid. When I had moved out, I realized that the wine and champagne glasses and most of the dishes belonged to Grace. Even now, nine months after we started living together, we still hadn’t gotten much for the kitchen. He handed me the red cup with the Heinz ketchup logo.
“Cheers. To your summer break.”
“Cheers to your last days of college.” With the first sip I confirmed this bottle of champagne belonged at the bottom of the price range.
“Yuck. Tastes like carbonated old socks.” Holden grimaced.
“Yeah, that’s pretty much on the mark.”
“Bottoms up?” He looked as if his courage was being tested.
I nodded, squeezed my eyes together, and drank the stuff down in one gulp.
Then I reached for the collar of Holden’s T-shirt, pulled him to me, and stole a kiss. Although the so-called champagne tasted horrible, it still was effective. Heat rose up through me. First in my stomach, then farther down. He threw his arms around me, grabbed my ass, and lifted me up. I swung my legs around his hips as he carried me to the couch, where he sat down with me on his lap. My lips let go of his, I took his face in my hands and simply looked at him for a moment. Then I let my
tongue glide over his lips slowly and tenderly. I traced the delicate arch of his upper lip. Holden moaned at my touch. He gently grasped the back of my neck, pulled me close, and pushed his tongue into my mouth. Then he put his forehead against mine.
“I love you.” He looked deep into my eyes. So deeply I felt naked. I would never get tired of hearing those words.
“And I love you.”
We kissed so intensely I lost all sense of direction—which was up or down? His fingers ran over my breasts and along my belly to the bottom of my shirt, which he pulled over my head. My bra dropped next, then I took my pants off myself. I held his hands and placed them on my breasts. He massaged them. As I undid his jeans, his mouth was slightly open, and his eyes were closed. I didn’t take his jeans off, just pushed them aside and down to free his erection. It bounced toward me, demanding attention. Holden tilted his head back when I placed my hand around his shaft, brought him in position and slowly let him sink inside me. When our bodies joined, we sighed in unison. Involuntarily, I started moving on him.
“You’re killing me,” he whispered as he dug his fingers into my hips and let me gyrate on top of him. I tilted my head back, dropped all inhibition, and let his rhythm carry me away. Suddenly, Holden convulsively sucked in his breath, put me on my back, and flipped us over. I wrapped my legs around his hips, moaning loudly when he thrust deeper inside me. My fingers clawed into his back, and I pulled him down on me and held on as hard as I could. We were one. Intertwined. Made for each other. His forehead pressed against mine as our bodies molded into each other. He kept the pace slow and deep as he moved up and down. Our lips pressed against each other. Our breath trembled. I inhaled his breath, let his scent bewitch me, attempted to breathe evenly, bit my lip, tried to delay a moment . . . and screamed as I fell into the void.
“Look at me,” he said with a firm voice.
I could barely keep my eyes open.
“Look at me,” he repeated.
And I did. I looked him straight in the eyes as the waves washed over me. Engulfed and buried me. The longing in his eyes was so great I couldn’t stand it. He pulled me up and wrapped me firmly in his arms. Then he cried out, too.
Chapter 13
Holden and I had fantastic sex. And when I say fantastic, I mean fantastic. To be honest, I can’t imagine anyone on this damned planet having better sex than Holden and me in the first year and a half of our relationship. We were crazy for each other. In bed he was passionate, uninhibited, and tender. He conquered me fully, and I hopelessly surrendered to him.
Grace, whom I saw often and talked to on the phone even more frequently, was a bit worried about me. She thought my relationship with Holden was codependent. Once she even said I behaved like an addict. I was offended for days and didn’t call her. Now, with hindsight, I can honestly say Grace was over the top. I think she was jealous because I didn’t spend as much time with her as I had before Holden. Once, when she was drunk, she more or less admitted as much. Even though Grace was exaggerating with this accusation of codependency, it was undeniable Holden and I had a special relationship. We loved each other. We loved each other with our whole hearts. The physical part was simply the cherry on top.
Then, Grace’s life took a sudden turn. Just before our senior year began, Ian, a freshman she met at a party, got her pregnant. When she told Ian the news, he heroically proposed marriage, but she broke out into loud peals of laughter.
“We’re not going to marry just because you got me pregnant, Ian,” she explained right away. “You’re only eighteen. You’re in no position to take on responsibility. Let alone play the family father. And, to be honest, neither of us want it.”
Then she decided she would keep the baby, so she tried, for the first time in her life, to have a real relationship. It didn’t work. Grace simply wasn’t made for a committed relationship, and when she was in her fifth month, Grace broke up with him. On Valentine’s Day. Ian stood outside Grace’s door with a ridiculously large bouquet of red roses that must have cost him a fortune. She opened the door, then promptly slammed it in his face.
“Dammit, I don’t love you, Ian!” she yelled at him through the door. “Go play with your friends.”
After that she came to me, buried herself in my arms, and cried all night.
“It’s better this way . . . he’s only eighteen . . . he shouldn’t throw his life away for me . . .”
Holden got us pizza and, because Grace couldn’t drink, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough. Although he’d planned a romantic Valentine’s surprise for us, meticulously preparing it for several weeks, he didn’t even drop so much as a hint at the time. He knew how much Grace meant to me and that she needed me. So, he brought us pizza and ice cream and then stepped into the background. That day I loved him even more.
“Good morning.” I tiptoed barefoot into the living room.
“Good morning.” Holden rubbed his eyes and sat up. He’d spent the night on the couch while Grace and I curled up in bed. I slipped under the woolen blanket beside him and snuggled up.
“Your feet are cold,” he said.
“Yes, and you’re all warm.” I sighed contentedly, pressed even more tightly against him.
“Is she still sleeping?”
“Yes. She cried half the night.”
Holden nodded in understanding as he planted a kiss on my hair.
“Do you think she’ll make it? All alone?” he asked after a while.
“Well. She’s not financially dependent on anyone.” Grace’s dad, who’d died a few months earlier of a heart attack, had left her a fortune. This money was administered in a trust account where it earned a lot of interest. And now, at twenty-one she had full access.
“And she’s not all alone. She’s got me.” I looked up at him. “And you,” I quietly added. It was a plea rather than a statement.
Holden smiled but didn’t answer.
Grace never questioned keeping the baby. Still, her situation required her to adjust her plans. She’d always thought of herself as a business woman—likely working a well-paid job at a Fortune 500 company. Grace had always had a road map—a well-thought-out five-year plan. Changing diapers and burping a baby hadn’t been part of it. Even though the delivery date was after final exams and graduation, Grace had a hard time accepting her new life. It didn’t help that the first months of her pregnancy were difficult. Grace cried a lot through that period and clung to me more than ever before. But the bigger her belly became, the more she came to terms with her new role. She even began to relish it.
“What did you say?” Grace looked down to ask her shockingly round seventh-month belly. “You want a bacon cheeseburger, large fries, six chicken wings, and a strawberry milkshake?”
I grinned as Grace looked at the Burger King employee at the counter with a shrug.
“You heard the baby: a bacon cheeseburger, large fries, six chicken wings, and a strawberry milkshake—oh, and a small salad for me, please,” she said. Then she turned to me. “Should we get something for Holden? I’m buying.”
“Nah, let’s just eat here.”
Grace had been at our place nearly every day over the past few weeks. So, I wanted to make sure Holden had a little down time at home, especially because, for the first time since he started his job as mechanical engineer about ten months ago, he was running his first project all by himself. In his position, he was required to put in peak performance. At night, he arrived home exhausted, and I had the feeling it was getting to be too much for him. In addition to the stress at work, he was doing everything a partner in a regular relationship would do for Grace. But since she was single, Holden moved furniture, set up a fridge, repaired the drain, assembled the baby bed and changing table, and painted the walls in the apartment Grace had moved into three weeks earlier.
“I can’t raise a child with a roomie,” she said.
I had to agree. The small apartment in Jamaica Plain was clearly a better situation in which to raise her child.
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br /> “How about a movie tonight?” Grace asked as she put another handful of fries into her mouth. “It’s Friday night, and the new Tarantino flick is playing.”
“Um . . .”
Wait. I haven’t mentioned that Holden and my love life had really suffered from Grace’s continuous presence. Maybe I’d manage to get home alone tonight . . . and attempt to make up to him just a little for the situation of recent months.
“I’m dead tired, Grace.” That wasn’t even a lie. “I really have to get to bed early.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.
“What about Heather,” I quickly suggested. “maybe she’d like to go to the movies?”
I got an astonished look. “Heather?” Grace asked skeptically. “What made you think of her? I thought you didn’t like her?”
“Well . . . a bit of variety might do you some good,” I carefully approached the topic.
She looked at me attentively, registered my every movement. I saw on her face that she’d understood what I meant.
“Okaaay.” The hurt was palpable. Grace had always been fairly quick to be hurt or offended, but she was incredibly touchy since she’d gotten pregnant. I could only hope that would normalize once the baby had arrived.
When I got home, Holden was asleep on the couch, a bag of Cheetos in hand. Judging from the TV show that was on—he wouldn’t have been caught dead watching a reality TV dating show—he had dozed off a while ago. Carefully, so I wouldn’t startle him, I took the bag from his hand and put it on the coffee table. Then I sat down next to him and gently stroked his hair. He opened his eyes blinking.
“Hey. What time is it?” Holden stretched, rubbed his eyes, and sat up.
“Almost nine thirty.”
“Is Grace at her place?” he asked.
I nodded, put on a telling smile, placed my hand on his chest, and moved it downward.
When I arrived at the button of his pants, Holden took my hand and kissed it. “I haven’t even showered.”
“Doesn’t bother me.” I took my hand from his mouth and was about to carry on where I’d stopped when he took it away again.