“That’s why I built my own garden in my backyard. And having a backyard is the reason I bought a town house rather than a condo.”
“I love your townhouse. I feel at home there. And there aren’t too many places I feel that way.” I didn’t want to admit there was actually no place where I felt at home except for Brett’s townhouse.
Brett’s eyes were smiling. “Good, I’m glad. I was hoping you’d like it.” He leaned over and gave me another kiss. Then he whispered, “And I was hoping you’d want to spend more time with me there. Much more time.”
I gulped as panic set in. That was the second time he’d hinted at something more serious between us. I didn’t know how to respond. No guy I ever dated (if you could even call it dating, more like hooking up) mentioned a future together and I never expected it. Things with Brett were so new to me, and definitely unexpected, but I liked it.
Brett showed me the rest of the garden and told me some interesting things about flowers—like calla lilies are a symbol of beauty and sunflowers are a token of pure love. Very few things beyond celebrity gossip had ever captured my attention but hearing the enthusiasm in Brett’s voice as he talked about plants actually made me interested in learning more about them.
“I have someplace else to take you,” Brett walked toward the car. “It’s a place where I spend a lot of time, so I hope you like it as much as I do.”
“I’m sure I will.” Even though I was never sure about anyone or anything, my curiosity was piqued.
Our next stop was a Farmer’s Market. We had Farmer’s Markets in Phoenix but I had never been to one. The main reason was because I never cooked and had no reason to buy food that wasn’t already prepared and purchased from a drive-through window. Plus, my mother always said Farmer’s Markets were for poor people and refused to set foot near them. Not that she didn’t jump on the health food band wagon occasionally but then she’d shop at trendy yuppie stores like Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s.
Brett looked at me with an odd expression, as if he was trying to read my mind. He did that quite a bit. The scary part was, he was usually able to deduce what I was thinking.
“Ever been to a Farmer’s Market before?” he asked as we hopped out of the car.
“This will be a first for me,” I admitted.
“A Farmer’s Market virgin,” he teased. “I would have never known.”
I had to laugh at that one. “No one has ever put me and virgin in the same sentence.”
The Farmer’s Market was huge and a bit overwhelming. The vendors looked much more upscale than I was expecting and based on some of the prices I saw, my mom’s assertion that Farmer’s Markets were for poor people was clearly wrong. At least, that wasn’t the case here. I could never afford to shop at a place like that on a regular basis. My budget barely allowed for the dollar meal deals at my favorite fast food joint.
Brett grabbed my hand and pulled me towards a vendor selling fresh seafood. “See anything you like?”
I shrugged. I hated to admit my experience with eating ocean creatures was limited.
“The tilapia looks really good,” Brett said as he pointed to it. So does the salmon. Do you have a preference?”
“Either sounds great.” Based on my previous experiences with his cooking, I had a feeling anything he made would be wonderful. Not that I was picky. I lived on fast food and often wondered if even calling it food was a misnomer.
Brett purchased the tilapia then he pulled me over to a vegetable vendor. I watched as he carefully inspected each of the vegetables. He even sniffed a few of them. The vendors seemed to recognize him, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, since he said he frequented the place. It didn’t faze me too much until we got to a bakery, where he planned on purchasing a bread loaf to make garlic bread. The look on the Bakery Girl’s face when she saw Brett sent a twinge of jealously through my body. Her plain face immediately lit up when she saw him. She was short but slender and had mousy, shoulder length hair brown hair. The more I looked at her, the more she reminded me of Rebecca “Sweater Vest” Stiller. She was wearing a polo shirt and khaki shorts, definitely preppy, which made me think that she probably also had a sweater vest lurking somewhere in her closet.
Brett gave me a strange look and I realized I was gripping his hand just a little too tightly. I gave what I knew was a fake smile and loosened my grip a bit. Brett still had concern in his eyes and I knew he’d ask me about it later. I quickly realized he was the type, who talked about things and didn’t let things just slide, which was definitely not something I was used to. My family members were masters of evasion and silence. We bottled our thoughts and feelings inside and we didn’t express them. And the guys I dated seemed very happy I was the type who didn’t want to discuss everything. My lack of communication was a plus.
It took a moment for Bakery Girl to register that Brett was holding my hand and when she did, she looked like a balloon that was suddenly deflated.
“Hey, Penny,” Brett said cheerfully. He either hadn’t noticed the change in her demeanor or he was trying to ignore it.
Penny started blinking rapidly as if she was holding back tears. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” she managed to mutter as her voice cracked. She definitely had a thing for Brett. I could feel myself gripping his hand even tighter. This time, though, he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.
I wasn’t sure if Brett was going to correct Penny and tell her I wasn’t actually his girlfriend but I didn’t want him to. I had never wanted to be called anyone’s girlfriend before but at that moment, there was nothing I wanted more. I wasn’t sure if it was actually Penny or the fact that she was so much like his ex that bothered me more but I felt insecure and jealous, which were definitely new feelings for me. As sad as it sounds, I had never cared enough about a guy to be concerned if he was with another girl, even right there in front of me. But for some reason the thought of Brett being with anyone else made me sick to my stomach.
“This is Anna,” Brett said in response to Penny. I could feel a pang of disappointment that he didn’t confirm that I was his girlfriend. Not that I actually was his girlfriend but I guess a part of me wanted to be.
I expected Penny to make some kind of snide comment or eye me with disdain, which is what most girls did. (I was, after all, a slut.) I was surprised when she just gave a quiet hi that seemed laced with sadness.
“The usual?” she asked Brett.
He shook his head. “I’m making garlic bread tonight.”
Penny swallowed. It seemed to register that Brett was going to be cooking me dinner. She started blinking again, fighting back tears. She quickly turned around.
“I have just the thing,” she mumbled as she grabbed a long loaf of freshly baked bread. “I think you’ll really like this.” She handed the loaf to Brett.
“How much?” Brett asked.
“Five dollars.” I could see she was avoiding eye contact with Brett by looking at the ground.
“Is everything okay,” Brett asked as he handed her the money. He seemed oblivious to the fact that Penny obviously adored him and that he’d totally crushed her by introducing me to her.
I could see Penny swallow again then she looked up at Brett with wet, puppy dog eyes. “Anna’s beautiful.” She said it as if I wasn’t even there.
“Thanks,” Brett replied. He turned and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I think she is, too.”
I could see Penny’s eyes dart to me then back to Brett. I thought she might lose it, instead she said, “Enjoy the bread,” as her voice cracked again.
Brett just smiled in response as he pulled me away. “One more stop before we head home.” He pulled me toward a vendor selling fresh cut flowers. He picked out a small bouquet and paid for it. Then he handed it to me.
“A beautiful bouquet for my beautiful woman,” I could feel my withered heart perk up and glow.
“Daisies are a symbol of loyal love,” he explained as we walked towards to car.
“I never knew that.” I wondered if that meant he loved me.
“I’m a wealth of useless information.”
Once we were back in the car and on the road, just as I expected, he brought up Penny for discussion.
“Do you want to talk about what happened at the bakery?” The way he said it I knew it wasn’t a question. Brett expected us to discuss the incident but phrased it as a question to be polite. He was the master of good-manners. I was the opposite of polite, if there was such a thing. I was rude and crude, or so I had been told (Flaws 86 and 72).
I already knew Brett was the type of person, who liked to process things. He talked about his thoughts and feelings with ease. I was the type, who drank to numb my feelings so I didn’t have to deal with them.
When I didn’t immediately respond, Brett said, “Why did you grip my hand so tightly when you saw Penny?”
I knew I was going to have to admit I had been snooping on his Facebook page and I knew he and Sweater Vest had been engaged. And I wanted to know why he had never told me.
“Because Penny looks a lot like your ex fiancé and she obviously has a mad crush on you.”
“How did you know Becca and I were engaged?” he asked quietly.
“How do you think?” My tone was a bit too curt and I immediately regretted it.
“Facebook,” he replied softly. He seemed so sad. It was such a sharp contrast from the happy person I had seen in the garden and in the market, it was heart breaking.
“Why didn’t you tell me the two of you were engaged? That was an important piece of information to leave out, don’t you think?”
“I’m sorry,” he responded, with pain in his voice.
“Guys lie to me all the time, Brett, so it isn’t anything new. I just didn’t expect you to lie to me like all the other guys.” I actually didn’t care that most guys lied to me. I considered it par for the course but for some reason I cared a lot when Brett did.
We were both quiet for what seemed like an eternity. Then Brett said, “Can you ever forgive me?”
“Why did you lie to me?” I could hear the hurt in my voice.
He didn’t answer immediately and I wondered if he was going to. Was I even worth the trouble?
He cleared his throat. “I was embarrassed. I didn’t want you to know that my fiancé left me for someone else.”
It was as if someone forced all of the air out of the car. I was suddenly struggling to breathe. “That must have sucked,” I managed to say.
He let out a feeble laugh. “It did suck.”
“I’m sorry,” I said more seriously. “That must have hurt.” Not that I knew from personal experience. I had never been committed to anyone longer than a wild weekend.
“It still does,” he admitted which stung a bit. It was the first time I considered the possibility that he might still have feelings for Sweater Vest. My heart sank. I wasn’t sure how I could ever compete with Rebecca, who seemed to be his perfect fit in every way.
He grabbed my hand and lifted it to his mouth then gently kissed it. “I care about you, Anna. I’m ready to move on and I want to move on with you. I hope you’ll let me.”
“As long as I’m not just some rebound girl.”
“I would never consider you just some anything and you’re definitely not just some rebound girl. You are everything a guy could ever want and the fact that you’re with me is completely mind boggling.”
I was stunned, speechless, which was a first. Generally, I was everything a guy could ever want but just for one night.
“Don’t ever lie to me again.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
And I believed him.
Four
When we got back to Brett’s townhouse, my stomach started to growl.
“I’d better feed you,” Brett chuckled as we unpacked the groceries. “We can have a late lunch early dinner. We’ll call it linner.”
“Linner is much better than dunch! Who would ever want to eat dunch?”
We both laughed. It felt good to finally release some of the tension that had built up between us.
“Do you want to sit in the garden while I cook?” Brett suggested
“I’d love to help you make linner.”
Brett thought about it for a moment. “As much as I’d rather cook for you and serve you, I can tell you want to help, so okay, let’s do it.”
That made me wonder if he and Sweater Vest ever cooked together or if she just let him do all of the cooking or maybe he always took her out to eat. I had to stop thinking about the two of them and their relationship or it was going to drive me crazy.
We both washed our hands in the kitchen sink and I said, “So, let me know what you want me to do.”
“Why don’t you start cutting up veggies and getting a salad together? I’ll start preparing the fish and the garlic bread.”
“Yes, Sir,” I saluted and got the veggies together.
Thirty minutes later, we had everything ready. “Now we just have to get the table in the garden set and everything will be perfect,” Brett stated .
I wished it was that easy to make everything perfect.
When I stepped into Brett’s backyard, it was like stepping into a fairytale garden. It was luscious and colorful. I thought it was the most beautiful place I had ever seen in my life.
Brett looked nervous. “Do you like it?” he asked tentatively.
I shook my head. “I don’t like it. I absolutely love it!”
That made Brett smile. “You’re the first person to see it, other than me.”
I gulped. I had assumed Sweater Vest had been to Brett’s townhouse but she obviously hadn’t. That made me smile.
“Thank you for sharing this with me. It’s amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
We set a small dining table Brett had placed in the corner of the garden near a small coy pond and fountain. Then we brought out the food and sat down.
“Your garden is truly the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” As I continued admiring the surroundings.
“You sitting here is what makes the garden beautiful.” Brett took my hand in his then lifted my hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on it.
The food was delicious. After I’d eaten every bite on my plate, I was tempted to lift the plate and lick it clean. That’s how good it was.
“I know I’ve said it before, but you’re a wonderful cook.”
“You’re a wonderful helper. Terrific salad.”
“You know it’s not necessary to constantly try and impress me.”
Brett fidgeted in his seat and looked uncomfortable and I immediately regretted mentioning it. But he seemed to be putting so much pressure on himself to win me over like I was some kind of prize. If anything, I felt more like a booby prize but that was another issue entirely.
“I know I’m not good enough for you.” When he looked into my eyes, Brett looked so vulnerable it made me want to hug him. I never had such a strong urge to comfort anyone in my life. Brett was the only one to bring those feelings out in me. It scared me because it made me feel vulnerable, too.
Brett continued. “I’ll never be good enough for you. But I’m doing everything I know how to win your love.”
I could feel a teardrop slide down my cheek. I couldn’t believe he said he wasn’t good enough for me. I was the one who didn’t feel good enough for him.
“Let’s sit on the couch and talk,” Brett suggested. “We can clean up the dishes later.”
He led me over to a small outdoor furniture set on the other side of the garden located around a small fire pit. We both sat on the settee and Brett put his arm around me. “Tell me what’s on your mind,” he said softly. “I can tell something’s bothering you.”
I took a deep breath. I wasn’t the type to engage in deep conversation but Brett seemed so sincere. “Why do you care so much about me? Why do you want to hear about all the craziness going on inside my head?”
Brett l
ooked puzzled. “Because I want to be with you. I want to know everything about you. That’s what people do when they’re in a relationship.”
“No one has ever cared enough about me to even ask,” I admitted.
Brett looked stunned. He couldn’t have looked more stunned if I had slapped him. “No one?” he repeated as if he hadn’t heard me correctly.
I shook my head. “Nope. Not even my parents or siblings.” Not that I had really given them a chance.
It was time to test Brett. I would give him an idea of who I really was to see if he still wanted to be with me. I mentally prepared myself to pack and leave just in case he didn’t like what he heard.
“My mother is a successful lawyer and my dad is an equally successful surgeon. My older and more perfect siblings, followed in their footsteps. My older sister became an even more successful surgeon and my older brother became an even more successful lawyer. Despite all of my parents’ monumental efforts to turn their youngest child into another über-successful clone of themselves, I was and still remain, nothing but a disappointment and a complete fuck-up. By the time I was 8-years old, my parents had pretty much given up on me. I was sneaking out of the house by the time I was 12, when I started drinking and having sex. By the time I was 14, I had firmly established my reputation as a party girl. Since then, I’ve spent countless weekends drunk and slept with more guys than I can remember. I have nothing to show for myself but a crappy job and a crappy apartment that I share with a witch and her evil cat.”
“Why do you call your roommate a witch?” Was that all he got out of everything I just confessed?
I eyed him suspiciously. “Because she literally is a witch. She calls herself a Wiccan, dresses in all black and participates in all kinds of weird rituals with her crazy witch friends.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything else. It was weird. Half of me expected him to show me to the door and thank me for coming while he kicked me out.
He gave me a kiss on the cheek instead.
“Now you can understand why I have a flaw list. And why it’s extremely long.”
Be Good Page 5