I left home to attend college in Pittsburgh, met Jake during freshman year, and never went back. We had been together ever since, until now. Now, it was just me . . . and that was just fine.
During the five-hour trip, I passed the time with my playlist and an audio book, and before I knew it, I was taking the turn into my old neighborhood. This being July, the middle of summer, people were out in their yards mowing grass or tending flower beds, and there were even a few kids running through a sprinkler, which made me smile.
As I drove down the street, I inhaled the wonderful aroma of fresh-cut grass and wondered about my old neighbor and childhood friend, Grayson Scott. We had been inseparable when we were kids. I would go to his house and be forced to look through numerous baseball cards, which at the time I thought was horrible, but I eventually knew so many stats I impressed myself and most of the guys I met. The best times were when Grayson came over to my house and I made him play dress up. I laughed at a memory of him with a princess tiara on his head. He was the cutest boy in elementary school and the hottest guy in high school, partly because he was a star baseball player. But he was just Grayson to me, my friend and the guy I wanted to call my own more than anything, yet never did.
I pulled into the driveway of my childhood home and just sat there in the car. I couldn’t believe I was back. It looked exactly the same, down to the shrubs that lined the sidewalk in front of the porch. My gaze went to the maple tree and I smiled. It was where Grayson had first kissed me. We were in the seventh grade, and we had to go to our first boy/girl party that night. I was terrified I would end up playing a game like spin the bottle and not know how to kiss, so Grayson graciously offered to be my first kiss. I remember feeling light-headed afterward. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was afraid of being caught by my father, or due to the kiss itself.
Grayson was the recipient of most of my firsts: first kiss, first dance, first boy I held hands with, and the first boy to get to second base. I fell hard for him during our junior year in high school, but when he took Mary McArthur to the prom, I was so devastated that I threw myself into my studies and we grew apart. Then I left to attend college in Pennsylvania and met Jake.
I got out of the car and looked toward his old house. My aunt said she saw Grayson occasionally, but he was always entertaining. I knew what that meant; I certainly wasn’t a kid anymore. At thirty-nine, I could definitely read between the lines. I got out of my car and pulled out the boxes from my trunk.
When I walked in, the house reminded me of when I had lived there. Even though most of the furniture was already gone, my aunt had hardly changed a thing. I ran my hand along the back of the chair where I would sit and read for hours; that was definitely my favorite thing to do. Inspired, I set the boxes down and sat in my chair, looking around and taking everything in. All my memories hit me like a tidal wave, like having dinner with my father, or playing cards with him and just talking about our day. This house definitely held good memories, and at this point in my life, that was all I had.
My energy faded, and I decided I needed a burst of caffeine. I had a cooler in the car with my Mountain Dew in it, which I knew would help. When I walked out the front door, I heard cackling, so I paused on the front porch. I looked toward the sound and saw two attractive young women getting into a car in Grayson’s driveway. The car pulled out and one of the blondes waved. I turned my head and saw Grayson leaning up against his front door in low-slung jeans, no shirt, and what looked like just-fucked hair. He bent over to light a cigarette, and every muscle in his torso was prominent and perfect. His face looked the same, but his body was definitely not what I remembered.
He looked my way and tilted his head. Ignoring him, I turned toward my car and went to get my soda, praying he didn’t recognize me. Compared to the women who just left, I must have looked like an old hag. My hair was in a messy ponytail secured by a clip on the top of my head, resembling a bird’s nest, and I was rumpled from being in the car for eight hours. At this point, I probably didn’t have any makeup left on my face.
As I leaned in for my soda, I glanced at my rearview mirror and confirmed that . . . yeah, I looked like death warmed over. Which totally sucked because I’d been told that I was pretty. I took enough yoga and spin classes so my body stayed toned, and I wasn’t old enough or droopy enough yet for my nipples to reach my waistband. I just wished I looked better at this moment.
I heard movement behind me and prayed it wasn’t him, but my prayer wasn’t answered.
“Soph?”
His voice was deeper than I remembered, and hit me like a dart right in my chest. I turned and tried to look as unfazed as I could.
“Hi, Grayson.”
He flicked his cigarette away and pulled me into a hug. I inhaled deeply, detecting smoke and something else on his skin, maybe it was remnants of the ladies who had just left, and for some reason that made my stomach churn. I tried not to let my hands wander up his back, and since I was tempted, I let them fall away.
“It’s so good to see you.” Grayson pulled back but held me with a firm grip on my upper arms. “Let me look at you.”
As I looked into his eyes, all the feelings from years past came flooding back into my heart. I had no clue what to say, so I didn’t say anything. I stood there and stared at this man who was my close friend so many years ago, and the man I’d always wanted. Then I remembered the blondes who had been at his house, and moved away from his grasp.
“God, Soph, you grew up nice. Your aunt didn’t tell me you were coming. I knew she was moving, but she never mentioned you coming back.” He frowned slightly as he added, “I would have been out here waiting.”
I shrugged. “That’s okay. You seemed like you were busy anyway. I don’t want to keep you if you need to go.”
Where did that come from? However, I did wonder if there was another woman stashed inside.
He looked toward his house, and then back to me, “Oh. They were just clients. Where’s Jake?”
Annoyed that this subject came up so quickly, I looked down and fidgeted with the top of my soda can, idly wondered what type of clients they were. Realizing it was none of my business, I quickly cleared my head of that thought and said, “I assume he’s with his girlfriend.”
I looked up and Grayson’s eyes filled with . . . concern? . . . and an agitated look ran across his face. “Girlfriend?”
“Yes, as of nine a.m. this morning, we’re divorced.” I held up my left hand, which was now devoid of a ring. I popped open the Mountain Dew and took a sip. “Would you like a soda?”
He shook his head. “No, I just wanted to know if you’re okay. Are you moving back here?” His voice sounded almost hopeful, but maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part.
I half laughed and possibly snorted a little. “No. I’m just here to get the house ready for the new owners. I just leased a place in Philly.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize it sold. How long are you staying?”
“I leave tomorrow. I need to sign some papers. It’s just a formality, since the new owners are the agent’s son and daughter-in-law, so the sign didn’t even have to go in the ground. I’m meeting with her tomorrow. It feels strange being here, you know?” I took another sip. “There are a lot of memories in this house. I need to pack them up and start fresh.”
Grayson pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket, then tilted the pack toward me. “Smoke?”
I shook my head. “No, thank you, but you go ahead, I need to get back inside and pack.”
He slid the unlit cigarette back in the pack and smiled. “Want a hand?”
“You want to help me pack?”
“Sure, why not. I don’t have plans tonight.”
I snickered. “Need to regain your energy?”
His eyes instantly shuttered and the friendly look on his face cooled somewhat. Oh my God, what the hell was wrong with me? This was my friend, not Jake.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “That was out o
f line. You can do whatever and whoever you want. I shouldn’t have said that. It isn’t any of my business.” I closed the car door and he backed up a few steps.
“Whatever and whoever?” His tone told me that Grayson definitely didn’t appreciate that comment.
“I’m sorry. Like I said, I shouldn’t have said anything.” I turned toward my house and walked away.
“Does that include you?” he asked in a low voice.
I froze and paused, considering. Maybe he did appreciate my comment. Then I turned to face him. “What?”
“Whatever and whoever,” he repeated. “Does that include you?” His deep brown eyes bore into me, seeking a response.
Completely out of my depth and taken off guard, I was unsure of what to say. “Um . . .”
Grayson laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you have a lot of men back home waiting for you now that you’re available. I was never your type anyway.”
I shook my head in disbelief and turned to walk back to the house. I had just walked in the front door and turned to say good-bye when my body collided with his. The only thing in between us was the soda can in my hand.
“I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “I didn’t know you were behind me.”
Embarrassed, I looked away and dropped my gaze to his bare feet, then slowly brought it up to his messy midnight hair, taking in every delicious sight in between. God, he was gorgeous. A smile made my lips twitch because I was tempted to touch him all over. Not wanting to make it obvious I’d been ogling him, I lowered my head.
He put his index finger under my chin and lifted it. “Let me help you. I haven’t seen you in years, and I’d love to catch up.”
Caught between not wanting to offend him and desperately wanting to get to know him again, my only option was to agree. “Okay, if you really want to.”
We walked into the house and I put a moving box together. Sitting in the living room with Grayson, wrapping pictures and knick-knacks in bubble wrap, was not how I’d imagined this day. I figured it would be me, my music, and the funny gnomes that were scattered all over the place.
“What are you going to do with all of this stuff?” Grayson asked as he struggled with wrapping one of said gnomes. “Is your place big enough?”
“No, my place isn’t half the size of this house. I’ll be donating most of it.” I glanced around the room that was starting to look more like a shell than the home I grew up in. I sighed and grabbed the packing tape, smoothing some over the box’s flaps to secure it. Then I picked up another figurine.
“Soph?” Grayson asked in a soft voice.
I stopped wrapping and looked at him.
“Why don’t you move back here? I mean, we could be neighbors. What’s the rush to get back? This is home.”
I frowned slightly and focused on making a mummy out of the figurine I was holding. “My home is in Pennsylvania now, and this isn’t my house anymore.”
He took my hand and it felt so natural, as if my hand belonged in his. “Home is where your heart is. I don’t mean to sound like a cheesy ‘Home, sweet home’ plaque, but really, Sophie, what do you have in Pennsylvania? Trudy told me you don’t have any kids.”
I couldn’t believe he’d asked about me and my aunt had never told me; just wait until I talked to her. My eyes glassed over, and I tried to force the tears to stay put.
“No, Jake and I couldn’t have children. I guess it was me because he knocked up his girlfriend just fine.” The pang of disappointment and inadequacy tore at my heart, and apparently it showed on my face.
Grayson placed his hand gently on my cheek. “Don’t, Soph, please don’t do that to yourself. Sometimes things aren’t meant to be. I’ve had to learn that.” He shrugged and dropped his hand.
What was he talking about? “From what I can tell, your life doesn’t seem half bad.”
“Well,” he said as he tapped a finger on my knee, “looks can be deceiving.”
I glanced at his abs, still bare and oh so tempting, and tried not to mentally count his muscles. “Maybe you should go home and grab a shirt. I’ll order us dinner. That is, if you want to stay.”
A broad smile appeared, completely transforming his face and taking my breath away. “I’d love to stay. I’ll grab some menus and some beer from my house and be back.”
When Grayson got up to leave, my focus slid to his hips. The man really was perfectly built.
As soon as he was out the door, I rushed into the bathroom to see how bad I actually looked. The big mirror greeted me like a slap in the face. Holy shit, I looked worse than I thought. I ran to my overnight bag and grabbed my hairbrush and makeup bag.
First, the hair. I yanked out the clip and the hair tie, and tried to run my brush though my hair, which was a difficult task. Stupid me had put it up when it was still damp, so it had this funky wave in it. I smoothed it out the best I could and decided in the time I had to put it back up in a neat ponytail. Then I attacked my face, wiping it with a cool washcloth to try to snap myself out of this funk, and threw on some concealer and mascara. Inspecting my work, I decided I didn’t look great, but I looked eighty percent better than I had when I first looked in the mirror.
I walked back in the living room to find Grayson sitting on the couch. He had put on a navy T-shirt and looked even better. At my approach, he looked up and smiled.
Great, I thought, he probably thinks I did this for him. Then I said, “I didn’t hear you come back in.”
“Sophie, you didn’t have to fix yourself up for me,” he said with a grin. “I know you’re beautiful. You don’t have to make it worse.”
“Worse?”
What did that mean? I looked worse? I was taken aback by what he said and my temper flared.
Folding my arms over my chest, I said tightly, “I didn’t do this for you. My hair was bothering me, so I fixed it for myself.”
Grayson chuckled, then stood and came over to me. “I didn’t mean you looked worse, I meant that—”
When I brushed off his comment with a wave of my hand and moved toward the kitchen, he called out, “Wait, let me explain.”
I stopped and turned to face him. “You don’t have to. It’s cool.”
“No, it’s not cool. I meant that it’s hard enough to sit here and not touch you, and then you go and fix your hair and all I want to do is mess it up. You don’t get it . . . you never got it.” He let out a ragged breath.
What the hell was he talking about? “No, I guess I never did and still don’t. Did you bring the menus?”
He looked confused at my change of subject. “Yeah, I put them in the kitchen. I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for. A new Chinese restaurant just opened, and we can order from there if you want. At least they deliver.”
“Sure. Yeah, whatever you want is fine. I’m easy.” At the sight of the snarky smile on his face, I quickly said, “I didn’t mean I was easy, I meant that I like whatever for dinner. That’s all I meant.”
Grayson walked over and pulled me into a hug, then laughed. “I know what you meant. You were never easy.” His laughter rumbled through his chest as he cupped the back of my head with one hand, and splayed the other on the small of my back.
I rested my cheek on his chest. This was the second hug he’d given me since I’d been back. I hadn’t been hugged or held by a man in over a year, and hadn’t realized how much I’d missed this basic human need. It felt comfortable to be held by Grayson, so I tightened my arms around him and just held him as he rubbed my back.
When I felt his hardness against my stomach, I pulled away. “Let’s order dinner. I’m hungry and I have a lot left to do.”
He nodded his head. “I’ll call. You go pack. Are you still allergic to peanuts?”
“Yeah, you remember that?”
He let out a little snort. “How could I forget? I remember sharing my peanut butter and jelly sandwich with you, and you blew up like a balloon and couldn’t breathe. I was so scared I was going to kill you with my l
unch.”
“Oh yeah, I remember that.” I laughed but then saw the serious look on his face. “You didn’t kill me, though, and here I am.” I threw my arms out as if to say ta-da.
“Yeah, here you are,” he said thoughtfully. “Thank God.” He then pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket, turned away, and called the restaurant.
As he ordered our dinner, I watched him. Grayson was being cryptic and I didn’t know why. Our connection was still strong; that much was obvious. We had both changed but he was still my friend, and even though eighteen years had passed, it didn’t feel that way. We had fallen back into our easy camaraderie as if I’d never left. Except for the comments he had made; those I didn’t understand at all.
I packed up what little was left in the living room while we waited for our food, then moved on to the dining room. Thankfully there wasn’t much to do there, just some table linens. All the china and stemware had belonged to my aunt, so she took that with her. I put a box together and placed the folded linens in it, then taped the top flaps closed.
Hearing a noise, I looked around and smiled. “Ah, that was easy.”
Grayson walked up behind me with two beers and handed me one. It was uncomfortably warm in the house; it didn’t have air-conditioning and the July heat had warmed it up. I had forgotten how warm it could get here in the summer, and was ready to peel off the jeans and T-shirt I was wearing.
Happy for a little coolness, I took the bottle from him and said, “Thank you.” Then I tipped it back and took a long draw on it, before I set it on the table and went to pick up my newly packed box.
“I got it.” Grayson picked it up with ease and put it in the living room with the others. He grabbed a marker I had left on the floor and wrote Dining Room on it.
“Okay, what’s next?” he asked, sounding like he wanted to get this over with.
“My bedroom, I guess. All the other rooms are cleared out.”
I grabbed my beer and he followed me up the stairs, carrying an empty box. When I opened my bedroom door, I was confronted by my youth. I stood there a minute, taking it all in as I looked around.
Moments In Time: A Collection of Short Fiction Page 22