Kiss & Tell (Small-Town Secrets-Fairview Series Book 2)

by Sophia Sinclair

  “Have you talked to him?”

  “Until I’m blue in the face. He always claims he’s going to do better, but he will spend like five minutes half-ass cleaning the bathroom and then he thinks there’s ‘nothing’ else that needs to be done and starts playing video games. Or watching sports, or doing whatever the hell else he feels like.”

  “I’m sorry. You guys seemed so happy.”

  “We are, other than fighting about housework.”

  “I have never lived with anyone, so I’m probably the wrong person to give advice. But have you thought about just not doing anything anymore? Just come home from work and read a book or whatever. When he asks what’s for dinner, tell him you don’t know. Let him order a pizza or cook something himself. One of these mornings he’ll wake up and not have any clean clothes to put on and then he’ll notice the house is a mess and maybe then he’ll catch on.”

  “Do you know how filthy the bathroom would need to be to get his attention?”

  “One way to find out.”

  “I like to live in a clean house, and I like to have a decent dinner.”

  “Eat something on the way home for a while, and only do your own laundry. See how long it takes him to catch on. And get a stack of books to read. It’ll take your mind off the messes. Maybe clean just one little area where you like to read, and keep that your little sanctuary so you don’t have to see the mess. Me, I don’t mind a little disorder. I’m naturally messy, but I’m doing a little better now that I have the house.”

  “I doubt it will work, but I’m willing to try anything. I’m getting so angry with him that I’ve told him I have a headache every time he’s reached for me.”

  “You’d think he’d be willing to do some vacuuming in exchange for sex, at least,” Lori joked.

  “Well, I’m going on strike. No cookin’, no cleanin’, no lovin’ until my demands are met,” Caroline joked back. “But what’s up with your love life? You haven’t said who you’re dating these days.”

  “Nobody,” Lori said.

  “Nobody?”

  “Nope. I am officially single, and for once, I really don’t have any plans to change that.”

  “Wow, home ownership has changed you. In fact, I kind of thought you and Jake might get together.”

  “I had thought so, too,” Lori said. She gave Caroline a simplified version of her history with Jake.

  “But why couldn’t you just forgive him? It sounds like he really meant it,” Caroline said.

  “I really don’t know. Part of me regrets not giving him another chance, but I just felt in my gut at that moment that I needed more.”

  “What do you want? A giant bouquet of roses? For him to flog himself? What?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  “But you do like him?”

  “I do, actually. Or I did. I don’t know. It’s confusing. I want to date a Jake who is who I thought he was before he listened to gossip and was rude to me.”

  “You judged him pretty harshly on the basis of who you thought he was, remember? And then you got to know him a little bit and realized he was nothing like you thought he was.”

  “Good point. I just … I guess it hurt because I’m afraid there was a little bit of an element of truth to it. I just realized, that’s it. I was a party girl. I did date a lot of guys. I did date just about every single young doctor the hospital hired. Maybe that’s what made it so hurtful that Jake was willing to listen to someone who told him I’m a slut or whatever. Maybe it felt too much like the truth.”

  Caroline reached across the table and grasped Lori’s hands.

  “You are a good person. You help save people’s lives, for God’s sake! You were there for me when I was depressed after my brother died. I’ll never forget that. I hadn’t gotten out of bed in days, and you came over and got me going again. I won’t have you questioning whether you’re a good person. Who cares if you dated more guys than usual? Maybe it’s because you’re a gorgeous woman and you could always date any man you wanted. I like the longer hair, by the way. You look even prettier the way it’s framing your face. But beauty makes some people jealous. Even me, sometimes.”

  Lori looked at Caroline’s earnest face. “I dated a lot of men, but it never came to anything. I don’t think anybody has ever actually been in love with me.”

  “Well, you know I love you. Lots of people love you. Maybe you’ve just been dating the wrong guys. Maybe Jake would be the right one. Maybe he wouldn’t. But I think if he is really sorry, you should at least give him a chance. And I think it sounds like he really is sorry.”

  Lori sighed. “Maybe. But I sent him away. He’s definitely not going to come around and apologize a second time. Gah! Why are men so hard to deal with, anyway?”

  “I once asked an old lesbian that. She told me, and I quote, ‘Women ain’t no better.’ And I bet she’s probably right. See those two guys over there?” She pointed to two men sitting next to each other at the other end of the bar. “Bet you a dollar they’re complaining about how unreasonable their wives are, right now.”

  “I’m not going to take that bet. I’m putting all my dollars into the house these days.”

  “To top it off, Johnny’s dad is going to come stay with us for a while. He retired to Florida but he’s decided he’s lonely down there. So he sold his condo and is planning to move back here. I’m dreading it. I like his dad OK, but I haven’t spent much time with him. I don’t know how long it will take him to buy another place, but until he does, he’s going to be in our guest room. I’m betting I’ll be treated like the family maid.” She picked up her beer and downed the last of it. “It’s bad enough being Johnny’s servant. I’m absolutely not going to spend every spare moment waiting on both of them.”

  “Maybe you can reform Johnny before his dad gets here.”

  “Yeah, that’ll happen. People don’t change like that.”

  “Well, I kind of did, right? Bet you didn’t foresee me swearing off men and spending a lot of evenings on home remodeling projects, didja?”

  “It’s early days, Lori. Let’s see how you react the next time a hunky doctor comes along.”

  “These days, half the new doctors are women, anyway. And nowadays, as I’ve gotten older, the ones my age are practically always married. My pool of candidates is shrinking all the time. No, I think it’s old maid time for Lori.” She signaled to Ashley, and a few minutes later a fresh beer and another pina colada with two cherries appeared in front of them. Lori quickly ate the two cherries.

  “Those things have like a millionty billionty calories, you know,” Caroline said.

  “I know, but I’ve actually lost some weight. I’ve been doing some pretty heavy work on the house. I don’t want to lose any more or my clothes won’t fit me. I’ve sworn off buying any new clothes for a while, too.”

  “Who the hell are you again?” Caroline asked. “You look an awful lot like my friend Lori, but she’d never swear off new men or new clothes.”

  “It’s like I said. Sometimes people do change.”

  Chapter 16

  Lori stopped in at Loveridge’s the next day after work. Catarina was hard at work on Lori’s sectional. About half of it was perfectly pristine in new gold velvet. The rest looked more like a pile of trash. Catarina had a huge bolt of the gold velvet rolled out on a cutting table, and was using a newspaper pattern she’d made from the old piece to cut the cloth very precisely for the next section.

  “What do you think?” Catarina asked, motioning toward the finished pieces. She noticed the gray cat curled up on one of them.

  “Matchka! Down!” she said, picking up the cat and removing her from the fresh upholstery. The cat, unperturbed, made her way to the chair in the front window, where she resumed her nap.

  “Sorry about that. I don’t want cat hair on your furniture before you even get to sit on it yourself. Do you have pets?”

  “I don’t, but I’ve been thinking about it. A friend of mine got a dog
not too long ago, and now she doesn’t know how she ever lived without one. I’d get a cat, though, I think. I work some weird shifts sometimes. I couldn’t always give a dog enough attention. It would be nice to have a big old dog to sleep with in winter, though.”

  “Matchka sleeps with me. That’s all she does do, is sleep. I got her to catch mice, but she’s never caught a one. Lazy, that one.”

  “Matchka? What’s that mean?”

  “It means ‘cat,’” actually. Not very imaginative of me, but Matchka doesn’t care.”

  “What language is that?”

  “Romany, more or less, though honestly the language is pretty different depending on the country. I only speak a few words here and there. Mostly curse words. My parents wanted me to grow up speaking English, so they didn’t often speak the old languages when I was around. Too bad, because now it’s a big thing, to be bilingual. Back then, people wanted their kids to learn English. To fit in. Now, rich people pay big bucks for their kids to learn a second language. Though not Romany, probably.”

  “This was your dad’s shop, before?”

  “Yes, he opened it years ago.”

  “And now?”

  “They retired and moved back to Europe. They come back now and then. I never thought I’d want to, but when the time came, I decided to keep the shop going. I’d been helping my dad with it for years and picked up more than I thought I had. When he decided to close the place and move back, I more or less forced him to teach me the rest before he left. You can imagine his disappointment. I talked them into sending me to college to study art, and then I come back home and work on old chairs.”

  “Some of what you do could definitely be considered art. Your whole living space is art.”

  “Art is whatever you want to consider art.”

  “This sectional?”

  “Why not? Art isn’t just paintings and sculpture. This is art you can sit on. Or, if the stories are true, do a lot of other things on.” She patted a cushion and laughed.

  “Yeah, if the stories are true, I have a pretty good idea why you had to replace all the springs.”

  “What can I do for you today?” Catarina asked, politely reminding Lori that she was interrupting her work.

  “Oh, right. Well, I want to have a housewarming party, but I don’t want to have it before the living room is in order. I just wanted to get an idea of when it would be safe to set the date.”

  “Two weeks from tomorrow,” Catarina said. “I will have it finished by 2 o’clock. And if that young man with the muscles helps me, we can have it in place before 3. You can schedule your party anytime after that.”

  “Wow, that’s pretty precise. I was just looking for a ballpark idea. OK.” She consulted the calendar on her phone and chose a date. “So will you come to the party? Let’s say 7 p.m.?”

  “I will come. It’ll be a pleasure to see everyone admiring my work. Maybe I’ll get a commission or two out of it, eh?”

  “OK, I’ll see you then,” Lori said.

  Lori spent the evening planning her party. She sent out email invitations and considered her menu. She wasn’t much of a cook. She’d get some party trays of hors d’oeuvres and lots of chips and dip. Might as well get some trays of cookies as well. She would want to stock the little built-in bar in the corner of the living room for sure. She made a list: gin, vodka, whisky, scotch … what else? Rum. Mixers. Some little cut-up fruits to garnish the drinks. She could manage that much, at least. Some chips and dip, served in her vintage Hawaiian woman serving set. Some cheese and crackers. A few bottles of wine. She had more than enough glassware, with some of her own and some that had come with the house.

  She would need a Christmas tree, but not just any tree. A huge box of vintage ornaments she’d found in the basement now filled a corner of the living room, and she wanted a giant artificial tree, preferably one of those ugly white ones. Her grandma had owned a small one. Lori wanted one tall enough to overpower the room. She searched online and finally found one — it was shockingly expensive. She’d assumed it would be dirt cheap. But there couldn’t be many oversized old Christmas trees like that still around. What the hell. She dug her credit card out of her purse and tapped the number into her phone. That hadn’t been so hard.

  She sighed and wished, once again, that Jake was coming to the party.

  Her phone began beeping with people already accepting invitations. Harriet was coming. So was Molly and her husband. Even Tommy. Caroline asked if they could bring Johnny’s dad, who would arrive just a couple of days before, explaining it might seem rude to him if they left him behind as soon as he arrived. Lori figured they might as well. She called The Clipper and Ashley answered.

  “Clipper!”

  “Hey, Ash, Lori here,” she said. She invited her to the party, asking her if she’d be willing to help out with bartending, maybe making some of the old-fashioned sorts of drinks people drank at cocktail parties back in the day. They agreed on a price and Lori relaxed. If you had the right people, the right food and the right booze, how could a party not be a success?

  Harriet even offered to bring along a slow cooker full of her famous Teeny-Weeny Special, which was cocktail wieners in some kind of sweet barbecue sauce. Harriet brought it to every potluck at work. Lori was happy to accept.

  Her phone beeped again. She wondered which friend was accepting her invitation this time. But when she picked it up, it was Jake, sending her a text.

  The wording was more formal than most texts.

  “I apologize for disturbing you again. But I’m wondering if I could stop by for just a moment. Doesn’t have to be tonight. Anytime that is convenient for you. If you don’t want to talk to me, I understand.”

  She considered just not answering. But a second later, she texted back a simple answer: “OK.”

  Should she change? She was wearing the jeans and sweater she’d worn to check on her sectional. Her hair and makeup were done — of course — but around 15 hours ago. No, she decided, no point in fixing herself up. He probably had a piece of paper he’d just realized hadn’t been properly signed or something like that. But in that case, he would have said so, she knew. She ran upstairs and powdered her shiny nose, put on lipstick and brushed her hair. To hell with the rest of it. She wasn’t going to answer the door looking like a girl who was expecting anything. That would be humiliating if he really did just show up with a stray document.

  She had just about changed her mind and decided to re-do her face when the doorbell rang. She took a deep breath and answered it.

  “Hey,” he said, awkwardly.

  “Hey,” she answered, not knowing where this was going and trying to match his tone.

  “Can I come in for just a minute?”

  “Sure.” She opened the door wide and stepped aside.

  “This barely looks like the same place,” he said. “I mean the décor hasn’t changed much, but everything looks brighter and more put together.”

  “Well, I’ve done some major cleaning,” she said. “Even had the carpeting steam-cleaned.”

  “I see you got rid of the sectional from the conversation pit,” Jake said.

  “Only temporarily. It’s at Loveridge’s, getting reupholstered.”

  “Good call.”

  “We can sit in the dining room,” Lori suggested. “You know the way.” She awkwardly headed that way, him following, and she turned on the light. She’d forgotten that she hadn’t yet cleared away the remains of her dinner, a premade supermarket salad. A place setting of the Fiestaware sat at the head of the table, the bowl showing traces of lettuce and Italian dressing.

  “Nice,” he said.

  “I was just about to clear away dinner,” she said, though in fact she hadn’t been.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said.

  They were so unfailingly polite that Lori began to feel very uncomfortable, like they were two actors in a play. She said nothing.

  “Well,” he said. “I’ve heard from a lot of
people in the past few days. My mom. Your colleague, Harriet. Your friend Caroline. There seems to be a concerted effort underway. My mom and Harriet plotted together, but Caroline doesn’t seem to be part of the conspiracy, just acting alone.”

  Lori still said nothing.

  Jake cleared his throat. “It seems to be the general consensus that I need to apologize more profoundly, and to make it really clear that I understand exactly how badly I screwed up.” He paused. “You aren’t saying anything. That’s a bad sign. You can see where I’m going with this, I hope.”

  “Um, you did already say you were sorry.” She felt like calling Caroline and Harriet, but she was torn. Should she give them a piece of her mind and order them to stay out of her love life, or just meekly thank them? She’d been hoping for another chance, after all. But she decided she’d wait to see what he had to say.

  “I did. But I don’t think I expressed myself as well as I could have. Let me tell you something. When I was a kid, growing up with a disabled brother was kind of isolating. A lot of the other kids were freaked out by a brother who couldn’t walk or talk. I can understand it now, but back then, any kid who didn’t react the way I thought he should just immediately went on my shit list. I wouldn’t play with him anymore. That meant, of course, that I didn’t have many friends. How many 9-year-olds, or 12-year-olds, know how to appropriately interact with the disabled? I finally just stopped having friends over, because I knew they’d probably think Josh was a freak, and I didn’t want to hang out with anybody who thought my brother was a freak.”

  He cleared his throat. “What I’m trying to say is, I know I have had a pattern of cutting people off without a really good reason. Which is understandable when you’re in grade school. Not so much when you’re an adult.” He cleared his throat again. “Anyway. I didn’t tell you that story looking for sympathy. Or maybe I did. I don’t even know anymore. What I want to say is, I am, from the bottom of heart, profoundly sorry that I listened to gossip about you and was rude and hurtful, and then that I just expected you to forgive me on the spot, which was also unfair.”