K-I-S-S-I-N-G

by Dana Pratola

  “I didn’t.”

  “What do you mean you didn’t?”

  “I mean I haven’t been to sleep yet,” he said. He walked past her, crushing cereal flakes under his feet as he went, opened the refrigerator and took out a beer. “I’m going to shower and hit the hay. You’ll be all right by yourself?”

  Where just an hour ago that question would have stirred her ire, she now felt sad. She wanted to be with him, to talk to him.

  “Sure, you go to sleep. Can I get you—”

  “This’ll be fine,” he said, holding the beer up as he walked away.

  ****

  By Monday afternoon, Winsome had had about enough of this dodge game Caleb was playing. He’d been off on Sunday, but avoided her most of the day, doing some kind of work in the garage. They had driven into town together to get some groceries and spin through the fast food drive-thru, but other than a little small talk, he’d kept the radio on, changing stations every time it seemed like she might turn the conversation toward something more serious.

  Once they got home, he went inside and she went back to her treehouse. As if this was the way it was supposed to be. As if it was March tenth and they had just met. As if she’d been yanked backward out of the dream she’d been in, and was now just lonely Winsome, on her own again, being her own best friend. She couldn’t help wonder if this was how it had been between him and Dee.

  But at least she had work as an outlet for some of her pent-up distress. When she found herself awake in the wee hours, she cranked up her melter and turned some of her drawings into solid, tangible objects. Even with the slight disability of her stitched hand, it was rewarding, but this thing with Caleb was muting the excitement for her. The thrill of creating should be the driving force in her day, but without him to share in her joy, she might as well be sitting around reading. He was only hundreds of feet away, but it could just as well be hundreds of miles.

  Reading was a good idea. She could lose herself in a book and not even think about Caleb or loneliness or candles. She picked up the cat on the bus book she’d been forced to abandon and searched for the page she’d left off on since the bookmark was lost somewhere when she’d fled.

  Settling into the snug window seat, Winsome propped her head on a pillow, the book on her chest, and dove into the story. In the distance, she heard the phone in the house ring three times before stopping. She wondered if Caleb had answered, but with a tiny shrug, turned the page.

  It didn’t bother her that she didn’t have a phone yet. After Dante trashed her cell phone during one of his fits, she decided she could do without the expense, and it was good to have one less avenue for him to contact her. They’d fought over her getting another one, but he wouldn’t pay for it and she hadn’t been able to manage it, even if she’d have wanted one. But recent events made her see the usefulness, and she made a mental note to see about one as soon as she could afford it. It might be a good idea to check into self-defense classes as well. The odds she’d have a nail gun handy if attacked by a stranger were pretty slim.

  But all of that was dependent on whether she could sell her work. Caleb said the driveway extension would be done tomorrow, so there was no excuse. She had to learn how to get customers to her, but had no idea yet how to go about advertising.

  Caleb would know. He knew every right move to make where she was concerned. It was a little scary to find herself wanting to rely on him. But wasn’t that what friendship was? Being able to count on each other? She didn’t know anymore, and it was depressing.

  ****

  Winsome awoke to the feeling of cold fingers wrapped around her wrist. Looking down, she sucked in a startled breath, then instantly pushed out a sigh of relief when she realized they were hers. She was freezing!

  Half groggy, she stumbled to the kitchen a few feet away and looked at the clock. Apparently, she’d fallen asleep for more than three hours and now, on top of being cold, having her body curled up for that long had kinked her neck and back. She raised her arms up, stretching them to the ceiling, bending slightly side to side, loosening those knotted muscles.

  Turning, she glanced down the hill toward the house, and saw a shadow in Caleb’s bedroom window upstairs. And then another. Her heart climbed into her throat. The silhouette looked like that of a woman, though she couldn’t be sure from this distance. At least her eyes couldn’t, but her heart knew the truth. He had a woman in his room. Of course. That would explain why he’d been so distant lately, avoiding her whenever possible.

  A whirling rush of adrenaline ripped through Winsome’s veins, making her feel ice cold and feverishly hot at the same time. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, her chest tightened, and her thoughts crashed together in fitful starts and stops, frozen one second, zigzagging in ten directions, the next.

  She would have bet her life that Caleb wasn’t the type of man to bounce right to someone else. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes. He was in the house with another woman. She didn’t even know what to do with that information.

  Dante had cheated on her repeatedly, and if she’d brought it up, there was a beating. This wasn’t that situation, but she still didn’t know if she should mention it. Caleb had said he wanted a relationship and that he wasn’t one to have meaningless sex with a woman. She probably should have tried to look at those statements objectively, as coming from a man who’d just been sexually satisfied, rather than through the ears of a woman willing to believe anything because she was hopelessly in love with that man.

  Winsome went back to the window seat and sat, staring at the floor, until she felt her eyes burning. When she closed them, they felt gritty and sore, so she went to the sink and splashed water on her face.

  Caleb was free to do as he pleased. He had given her everything and owed her nothing. Not his heart, his loyalty, or an explanation. The old her would probably crumble into a sobbing ball right here on the floor, but what would this new, stronger Winsome do?

  A strong woman would hold her head up high, accept that their fling had been exactly that, and that while they’d said some things in the throes, or aftermath, of incredible sex, they’d made no promises. Easy come, easy go.

  Yeah, screw that.

  It wasn’t her insecure, self-debasing nature that told her she needed to give him the benefit of the doubt. She knew he loved her. Something else was going on. Winsome threw the newly repaired door open wide, marched down the ramp, and stomped toward the house.

  CHAPTER 21

  “I’m not leaving until you tell me you’re going to try,” Dee said.

  “No,” Cal said, for the twentieth time at least. “I’m not going to try. There’s nothing to try, it’s over.”

  “You can’t mean that, Cal. We were good together. Really good.”

  Dee slid her hands up his chest, but he banded her wrists with his fingers and flung them away. “You can’t mean that. How good could it have been if you cheated on me?”

  “I was lonely. You were never there for me,” Dee whined. “We can make it work.”

  Cal rolled his eyes. Drunk girls always turned his stomach, even if she had a point about him not being there.

  “You can make the best of it with Mike,” he said. “I’m done.”

  “Mike and Noreen are working it out, why can’t we do the same?”

  “What did Noreen do when she found out?” he asked, smirking. He’d heard a few days after, that Noreen had slapped Dee’s face in the middle of the mall. And not a feminine, girly slap, the kind of slap where someone falls into a potted plant, embarrassed and disoriented. He had to keep his smile from getting the best of him.

  “She was mad,” Dee answered, looking down at her hands, turning the bracelet on her wrist. Her gaze flashed to his. “But she forgave me.”

  “I’ll bet. Well, maybe the three of you can work something out together. Share.”

  “Caaaaallll,” she whined. “You’re not being fair.”

  Cal was at his end now. Dee had driven here, dru
nk, walked into his home without being invited, and for almost two hours, begged him to come back. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he didn’t want her running her car off the road into a ditch, or killing some innocent party, he would have thrown her out immediately. But she’d been here far too long and was still no closer to sober, so it was time to call her a ride.

  She reached out for him again, wrapping her arms around his waist as he turned to grab his phone. He tried to pry her off, but didn’t want to hurt her as she pressed her cheek against his back.

  “Dee, let me go.”

  “No.”

  He felt his muscles tensing up, but rather than struggle with her physically, he decided to use his words. “Look, I tried being semi-nice about it, but you’re not getting it. I need you to understand that we’re not good for one another. And I have someone else.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “I’m in love with her, Dee. Love. You don’t know what that is, but it’s something I never had with you or anyone else, and now I have it, and I’m not letting go of it for anything in this world, including—especially—you.”

  Instantly, Dee straightened and released him. “Fair enough.”

  Surprised and relieved, Cal turned to her. “You’ve been playing me the whole time?”

  Dee shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, but he saw the tears in her eyes. He only wished he knew whether she was legitimately sad over losing him, or if it was just the alcohol. It wouldn’t make a difference, and he couldn’t do anything to comfort her, but it would be nice to know she’d felt something real for him beyond lust and companionship.

  “You know how it is,” she said. “I enjoyed not having to pay all the rent on the apartment.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, well….”

  He called for a car on his cell and sat quietly on the bed as she paced the floor of his bedroom, talking incessantly about work as though the last two hours hadn’t happened. More than once he wanted to tell her to be quiet, but feared she would switch the topic back to him. To them.

  In the middle of a story about refusing to tip the colorist at her salon the other day, she whirled to face him.

  “Would you tell me something?” she asked. “The truth, no BS or trying to hurt me because you’re mad.”

  “If I can. And I’m not mad.” He wasn’t anymore, but with her, that could change in an instant.

  “What’s so special about this girl who’s going to replace me?”

  He nearly corrected her, almost told her there was no replacement, that having Winsome in his life wasn’t like having a substitute Dee, it was more like Dee never existed. That would be mean, and he couldn’t be heartless no matter what she had done to him. But since she asked, he would tell her.

  “The truth,” he said. Dee nodded. “She’s extraordinary.” There was a word he would have to start using more often when it came to Winsome, because that’s what she was.

  Dee raised her eyebrows in mock agreement. “I’ll bet she’s all that and more in bed, right?”

  Cal shook his head, disgusted. “You would go right there, thinking my estimation of a woman is based on what she does for me in the bedroom. Don’t you have any self-respect?”

  She shrugged, but he could tell the words stung, and it wasn’t fair, especially when, upon reflection, he hadn’t esteemed her very highly outside the bedroom. In living with her and having sex without love, he had lessened her value and his own.

  “She’s that good, huh?” she asked. When he didn’t reply, she nodded. “I’ll be sure to spread the word. When you’re finished with her—”

  She swallowed the rest of her words when he stepped toe to toe with her. She knew he would never strike her, but she now knew he was in no mood for jokes.

  “You have no concept of what special is, Dee. No notion of what some people go through in the world. Your idea of a challenge is a bad hair appointment. This girl,” he said, pointing out the window toward the treehouse, “has been through things a girl should never have to face, things you can’t imagine, and she keeps getting up and fighting. She keeps winning.”

  “How admirable,” Dee said, with a saccharine sweet smile.

  “Yes, she is.”

  “And you feel sorry for this pillar of integrity and perseverance because she’s been through so much, is that it?”

  “No, I love her with everything I have in me, because she loves, and gives, and feels. I don’t feel sorry for her. I feel sorry for you, because you don’t do any of those things.” He aimed a finger at her. “And the next time you go get your nails done with your equally pathetic friends and sit around trashing your exes, me included, leave her name out of your mouth.”

  He really didn’t know why he was wasting his time talking to her, drunk as she was. Dee let out an aggravated huff and turned away, back to pacing the room. That car couldn’t get here fast enough.

  A sound in the hallway caught his ear. Dee heard it too and cocked an ear toward the doorway.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  It sounded like one of the creaky floorboards right outside the room. He sighed, wondering how much Winsome had heard, and resigned to whatever was to come.

  “It’s her? She’s here? The girl you’re in love with?” Dee asked, surprise blanching her perfect face.

  Cal moved toward the door. “Yes. And I swear, if you do anything to mess with her, or make trouble between us—”

  “Shh.” Dee waved his empty threat off.

  Winsome came to the doorway, but didn’t cross the threshold. Dee crossed her arms over her chest and tapped a foot, looking her up and down.

  “This little wisp is what you’re in love with?” Dee asked, giggling. “I pictured her at least having a big rack.”

  “Dee, shut up.” Cal watched Winsome. There was no sign of tears. Nor of anger. She just stood there, with those amazing dark eyes, taking measure of Dee. The corners of her mouth angled up slightly. Was she amused? “There’s nothing going on, Winsome.”

  “Oh, I know,” Winsome said.

  But it was the way she said it, like he would have to be crazy to touch a woman like Dee. Had he imagined the humor in her voice? He’d heard women could be catty, but had never actually witnessed it until this moment. They faced off like gunfighters in the town square, ready to draw at the slightest muscle twitch. He knew Dee could be vicious, but seeing the gleam in Winsome’s eyes, didn’t doubt she could hold her own.

  “Go away, little girl,” Dee said, weaving slightly.

  “Little girl, I get it,” Winsome said, her voice as artificially sweet as Dee’s had been. “Because I’m younger than you.”

  She flashed a smile that had Dee’s eyes narrowing to slits. He couldn’t help chuckle, but stifled it when Dee shot him a searing look. Dee opened her mouth to form some ridiculous retort, Cal was sure, but seemed to lose her train of thought.

  Winsome shrugged and turned to Cal. “I want to talk to you.”

  Dee took a step closer. “He’s talking to me.”

  Unruffled, Winsome turned and walked away. Dee lunged after her, but Cal grabbed her by the arm.

  “I don’t think you want to do that,” he told Dee.

  And he really didn’t. Seeing Winsome so calm and confident, he had no idea what she might be capable of. He had a brief image of them rolling on the floor, clothes ripping, exposing skin. With a smirk, he released Dee and walked out, leaving her to herself. He had to talk to Winsome.

  “I don’t know or care what she’s doing here,” Winsome said, when he found her in the kitchen, getting out a mug for tea. “We need to talk and I think we should do it now.”

  “Agreed. You know, it’s weird, when Dee showed up, I was on my way to you, to ask if you’d have dinner with me, to talk. It’s been too long.”

  “I’m here to get my man back!” Dee called out from the stairs where she was descending, one unsure step at a time.

  Winsome shook her head in disbelief.

  Cal put his han
ds up to keep Winsome where she was, looking back at her over his shoulder, as he went to the stairs.

  “Your ride will be here any minute,” he told Dee, walking her into the living room. “Sit here and don’t move.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you here with that little bitch. She can go,” she said, flinging a hand out and causing the lamp to tip. Cal righted it before it could crash to the floor, as she slumped against the arm of the couch and closed her eyes.

  He did not want her passed out on his couch, he needed her gone. Just in time, headlights sliced through the window illuminating one wall, then traversing the room and sliding away. Thank God.

  “Let’s go,” Cal said, hauling her up and toward the door by her elbow.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Dee said, and leaned over to kiss him, but he pulled back and opened the door.

  He walked her down the steps and saw her into the car, then leaned in the front passenger window, surprised to see one of the guys he worked with on the crew, behind the wheel.

  “Hey, Skip. Moonlighting?”

  Skip turned a palm up in a careless gesture. “Making those ends meet. It’s what you do when you have twins in college.” Cal nodded and reached into his pocket, but Skip shook his head. “No charge for you.”

  “Believe me, you’ll earn this,” Cal said, handing him fifty dollars. “Hold on a sec.” He went into Dee’s car, removed her house keys from the ring still in the ignition, and dropped them in her bag, then took the bag and her coat, and tossed them in the back with her. He gave Skip the address, patted the car’s roof and stepped back.

  “So, Skip, what do you think of a guy who won’t forgive one little bout of infidelity, but then goes and moves in with some…girl?” Dee asked from the back seat.

  Skip rolled his eyes at Cal, chuckled and drove off.

  Inside, Winsome was seated at the kitchen table, the foot resting on her knee keeping some kind of internal beat. She didn’t look angry and he didn’t quite know what to make of it.