Comfort Zone

by Missy Johnson

  I could play with her mind all night. Among other things…

  “Oh, before I forget.” I toss her a folded piece of paper. “Jake asked me to give that to you.”

  She uncrumples the letter and reads it, a smile on her face.

  “I haven’t seen or spoken to him since his party,” she murmurs. “Brooke wasn’t too happy with me, apparently.”

  “So, I heard.” I smirk. “What did he write?”

  She clears her throat.

  “Thanks for getting me in the shit, you dicknob. Brooke is out for your blood. The only thing stopping her from ripping up your place card is the fact that your helping bring Grammy to the wedding. By the way, I can’t thank you enough for that. See you soon…unless you do something else to fuck my life up.”

  “He did not say that,” I challenge her. She holds the letter up for me to see. I glance at it and laugh. She read it word for word. “You two have a very unique friendship.”

  “Every friendship with me is unique.” She grins.

  I don’t doubt that for a second.

  I pull out from her driveway and out onto the road and begin our long drive toward Vegas. Nobody drives this far unless they have to, but I’ll make the most of it and use the time to get to know Becca a little more. She might not remember much about what happened at Jake’s bachelor party, but I sure did. I saw a different side to her. Not just the side of her that loves the attention, but a softer, more vulnerable side. It’s a part of her that I don’t think she lets very many people see.

  “So, the plan,” I begin, getting back to her original question. “I figured we’d pick up Grammy now, then head back to the resort and stay overnight. Then tomorrow, you go to your sex ceremony—”

  “Do you want me to get out of this car right now?” she snaps.

  “Sorry—anniversary party,” I correct myself. “I’ll look after Grammy while you go do that, then we’ll drive back here when you’re done.”

  “Okay,” Becca says slowly. “But wouldn’t it be easier to pick up Grammy tomorrow?”

  I think about it. As much as I love the idea of spending more time alone with Becca, it would make tomorrow even more painful. I know how bad Grammy can get in the evening with her dementia. It’s going to be hard enough to handle her during the day, let alone at night.

  “Probably, but then we’d have to backtrack,” I explain. “Trust me, this way is easiest.”

  “Okay. Are you even allowed to have cats at the hotel?” she questions, scrunching up her nose.

  I laugh, shocked that she believed me about that. What else would she believe just because I tell her?

  “Andrew isn’t coming,” I assure her. “The drive alone would probably kill him. Mom has spoken to Grammy and she understands.”

  I hope.

  Becca nods, satisfied with that.

  “Are you close to your grandmother?” she asks.

  I take the exit onto the 405 and glance out over the horizon. It’s a nice day. The blue sky stretches for miles in the distance, so at the very least, it should be a relaxed drive.

  “We’ve always been close. She’s been going downhill lately and it’s hard to watch. The dementia is getting worse. It’s hard, when some days she doesn’t even know who I am.”

  Becca nods. “She means a lot to Jake, too, doesn’t she?”

  “She does. After my uncle Sam died, Aunt Jacquie went through a severe depression. Grammy moved in with them for a few months. She was like a second mother to Jake, so they developed a special bond.” I glance at her. “Have you ever met Grammy?”

  She nods thoughtfully. “Years ago, but I doubt she’d even remember me.”

  “As hard as it is for me to watch her go downhill, it must be a thousand times worse for Jake. He’s a good guy. He’s been through a lot,” I say.

  Becca smiles. “You don’t have to tell me that. He’s one of my closest friends, remember?” She glances at me. “You and Jake used to be close too, right? I’m surprised we’d never met, before last week.”

  “You’ve known me all year,” I remind her.

  “You know what I mean. Met through Jake,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’m just shocked we hadn’t run into each other before…”

  “The bachelor party?” I say lightly. She flushes. “Jake and I were close when we were kids, but then life happened, and we drifted apart. I went to college, he became a teenager…it just got too difficult to keep in contact. I’m guessing your friendship started around then?”

  She nods. “So, what changed recently then?”

  I shrug. “I moved back here. We caught up at a family wedding and I realized how much I’d missed out on.”

  “Do you notice the difference in age?” she asks. “You’re what, nine years older than him?”

  “Ten,” I correct her. “Which makes me ten years older than you. Do you notice that difference between us?”

  “No,” she says. “But it’s not really the same thing. Besides, I didn’t realize your students age determines how you teach, at least when you get to our age.”

  “I guess it depends on what I’m trying to teach you.”

  She hides a smile by looking out the window, while I shake my head at how that made me sound like a creepy old man. The worst part is I hadn’t even intended for there to be a sexual context to my comment.

  “Some subjects I do notice the age difference more than others.” I think about how to get my point across. “Trying to explain the feline reproductive system is a hell of a lot easier when your students can name the parts of the anatomy without erupting into giggles.”

  “Except I think I was one of the ones giggling,” she admits, her eyes twinkling. “So your theory is flawed.”

  “There’s always one.” I chuckle. “To answer your question, no. I don’t really notice it with Jake,” I say. “Especially now that we’re older.”

  “Older? You make it sound like we’ve hit retirement.” Becca makes a face. “Am I too old for a career change? Maybe I should drop out of college and take up knitting. Or bingo.”

  I wince. “Don’t mention bingo to Grammy.”

  “Why? She’s not a fan? That’s surprising. I thought all old people liked bingo.”

  “Oh, she likes it all right,” I mutter. “Grammy likes bingo a little too much.”

  “So?” Becca laughs and looks at me like I’m crazy. “What’s the worst that could happen? It’s bingo, for Christ’s sake. It’s not like she’s going to escalate to high stakes poker games and lose millions.”

  “Maybe, but I’m pretty sure being banned from three bingo centers still means you have a problem.”

  It got so bad at one point that we had to alert every possible gambling venue within a twenty mile radius. That’s impressive, when you live just outside of Vegas. Every casino and hotel had a photo of Grammy stuck to their banned wall. She still managed to con her way into places by playing the innocent little old lady card.

  “Really? Grammy’s hard core. I love it.” Becca giggles.

  “Yeah, you love it now, but in the middle of one of her episodes? You might not.” I get back to her earlier statement. “And we are older, aren’t we? If you think about it, our parents and grandparents were married with three or four kids by now.”

  Becca shudders. “Not my parents. Mom was forty when she had me. Dad Forty-three.”

  “Impressive. Are you an only child?” I ask.

  She nods. “They had trouble conceiving. I came along after they’d finally come to terms with not having kids.”

  “You must have been an amazing gift,” I murmur. “I mean, kids in general are,” I say, backtracking.

  She grins. “They’re great: so long as I can send them back home when they start to annoy me.” She chuckles, like she’s a woman with experience. “It’s not that I don’t like kids…I just feel like I’m more suited to looking after a dog, than a child. At least I can lock a dog outside when I’m sick of it.”

  “I’m a firm be
liever that you don’t realize how much you want something until it’s yours, or until you lose it,” I say, for once being completely serious.

  “I understand that.” She nods. “But I’m the opposite. I want something, but then I get it and think fuck, what was I thinking?”

  I look at her and laugh. “Give me an example, then? Something that you wanted, and it took having it to realize you didn’t want it.”

  “You’re putting me on the spot now.” She frowns thoughtfully. “Nope. Sorry. I can’t think with all this pressure.”

  “Then you’re heading into the wrong career,” I tease her.

  “That’s one of the things I worry about most, whether or not I can handle the pressure of being a vet.” Her tone turns serious and I know this isn’t something she’s joking about.

  I shrug. “It’s instinct. You won’t even think about it. When there’s an emergency, you do whatever you need to. You know what to do. You of all people should be confident in your skills. You’re one of the brightest students in my class without even trying.” I smile at her. “I don’t doubt for a second that you can handle any situation you find yourself in.”

  She plays with her fingers in her lap, not saying anything. A few more minutes pass and she’s still deep in thought, so I try again to reassure her.

  “Seriously, don’t stress about it. You’ll be fine.”

  She looks up. Confusion passes through her eyes and then she blushes.

  “Sorry, I was thinking about something else, actually.”

  “What?” It comes out before I think about how nosy I sound.

  “I was thinking about how some people want something so badly and they can’t have it, but other people can have it and don’t want it.” She breathes out quickly, then grins at me. “Try saying that twenty times fast,” she jokes, making a face.

  She leans her head back against the seat and glances at me. Sadness clouds her usually vibrant green eyes.

  “A friend of mine couldn’t have kids. Like you were saying, not being able to have them made her realize how much she wanted them.” She gazes out the window. “I felt so bad, because here I was, thinking I could give or take having them. I had bigger things on my mind than kids, but it was all she could think about. She didn’t get to make the decision. It was made for her.”

  “That’s rough,” I say. “How is she now?”

  She smiles at me. “Happy. Which I guess just shows you that life can still work out, even when it’s not what you’re expecting.” She laughs. “Wow, I think this is the deepest conversation I’ve ever had.”

  I glance at the clock. We’ve been driving for a while now, but I’m still surprised at how late it is. I haven’t eaten anything all day and I’m starting to notice it.

  “Are you hungry?”

  She nods. “Starving.”

  I pull into the next roadhouse we pass and find a spot to park. It’s pretty busy, which means it’s the only one for miles, or the food must be okay. We walk inside and sit down, picking up a menu that sits tucked behind the napkin dispenser. A waitress walks over, pen poised. She smiles at Becca, then at me.

  “You first,” I say, even though I already know what I’m having.

  “Can I have the double smoked bacon burger, with onion rings, and a chocolate shake, thanks.”

  She looks up when I start chuckling and narrows her eyes at me.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You stole my order.” I grin.

  “So, two, then?” the waitress asks.

  I nod. “I’ll have extra cheese, thanks.”

  “Yeah, you look like a guy who likes his cheese,” Becca teases.

  I smirk and let her comment slide, or I’ll end up saying something I can’t take back.

  The waitress returns with our meals in record time. I’m impressed—until she places them in front of us. I smother another laugh as I stare at my poor excuse for a burger. Once she’s gone, I peel off the top of the stale bun and examine the limp lettuce. I pick up the hockey puck they’re trying to pass as a burger.

  “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” I mutter.

  Becca giggles and pushes her plate away.

  “Yeah, I’m not even going to try.”

  “I’m almost one hundred percent certain that this was made for someone else, three days ago.”

  I pick at my onion rings, which are almost edible, but then I give up on them too. I look around, smirking when I recognize the song that just came on the radio. I study Becca, waiting for her reaction, but it doesn’t come. What the—

  She doesn’t remember that either.

  I laugh, then cover my tracks by letting loose a loud, hacking cough. Becca eyes me suspiciously.

  “That’s my trick. What are you trying to hide?”

  “Nothing.” But I can’t even say it with a straight face.

  “Come on,” she coaxes. “Something made you giggle-cough. You’re going to tell me eventually.”

  Giggle-cough?” I repeat, making a face. “I’m a thirty-seven-year-old man. I do not giggle-cough.”

  She gives me a hard stare, showing no indication of backing down.

  “Fine.” I sit back and smirk at her. “I laughed when I remembered the last time I heard this song.”

  “Okay…” She sounds disappointed. I chuckle and comb my hand through my hair. “It was very recent, and I was harder than this burger.” I bounce it on the table and then laugh at the way she’s gawking at me. I can’t believe I said that either.

  “Well, that was more information than I was expecting. Care to elaborate?”

  “Are you sure you want me to?” I tease. “The night of the bachelor party? The private room and my own personal little show? None of this is resonating with you?”

  I pause and breathe out, because just thinking about her like that has me hard.

  “This song that’s on? It started playing the moment you climbed onto my lap and started dancing for me.”

  “I didn’t. Oh God I did. So did we…” Her voice trails off as she looks away, embarrassed.

  I wanted something to happen so bad…she was so relaxed and flirty, like she wanted me as much as I wanted her, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take advantage of her like that, because I had no way of knowing how much she’d had to drink. The last thing I wanted was to end up being something she regretted.

  “No. We didn’t.”

  “Thank God.” She whispers the words, then cradles her face in her hands.

  “I stopped you before it went any further than a kiss.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she mumbles, her cheeks reddening.

  “Don’t be sorry. I wasn’t complaining too hard.” I chuckle and throw her a sideways look. “Well, until you tried to suck on my nipple.”

  “What?” she gasps, her eyes wide. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  “Sorry, that part is true.” I chuckle at her expression. “Trust me, I wish as much as do you that I was making that up.”

  “Well, thank you for stopping things from going too far. That was incredibly chivalrous of you.” She stares out of the window and then turns to me. “I can’t believe I acted that way. I’m so embarrassed.”

  “So you had a big night. It happens. Jake did too, come to think of it,” I say with a chuckle.

  “Really? I wouldn’t know, since I’m still banned from speaking to him.” She rants the words and leans back against the headrest. “What did he do?”

  “There was one point in the evening where Jake was completely naked and riding Garry around the stage, with a crowd full of guys cheering them on.” It’s hard not to laugh while telling this story. “They were going crazy for it, like it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen.”

  Becca giggles. “I’m sorry I missed that.” She glances my way again. “Hey, can I be completely honest with you about something?” She bites her lip and studies my face. “This is so hard for me to talk about, but I feel like we’re getting closer…”
/>   “Sure.”

  “I went back to the club to try and work out what happened,” she admits.

  “Really? And did you find out anything?”

  “Yes and I’m really embarrassed about it.” She shakes her head, clearly distraught over this. “I hooked up with a stripper in a private room,” she blurts out. “I was horrified at first, but when she went into detail about what we did, I got so turned on that I…”

  “You what?” I cough.

  It’s taking everything I have not to ask for an in-depth description, even though I know it didn’t happen. Just the idea of it has me ready to explode.

  “I asked her out and she said yes.” She sighs, a dreamy smile spreading across her face. “The thought of seeing her again and exploring her body…”

  “You’re going out with her?” I ask, shocked.

  “Yes. Why?” She stares at me, startled.

  “No reason,” I mutter. I stand up and toss some bills on the table. “We should probably keep moving.”

  Shit.

  This isn’t what I was hoping for.

  #

  I turn back onto the freeway and click on some music and keeping my eyes on the highway. I don’t trust myself to look at Becca, but it’s hard when she’s right there, sneaking looks at me every few minutes. If I’d been upfront with her from the start, then she wouldn’t have gone searching for answers. I’d secretly loved the fact that she had no idea whether we had slept together but didn’t have the nerve to ask me.

  After everyone else had stumbled home after the party, I found the stripper Becca kissed and asked her straight up if anything happened. I hate admitting it, but after kissing her twice that night, I was jealous at the thought of Becca with someone else.

  “This has gotten really awkward, hasn’t it? Can we maybe forget our last conversation ever happened?” she asks suddenly. “Where did you go to college?” She smiles at me, trying hard to change the subject.

  I frown at her, not convinced this will work, but I give it a go.

  “New York. I wanted to get as far away from my family as possible,” I admit.

  “You don’t get along with your parents?”

  “Mom I do,” I say. “But Dad and I don’t really get along. We don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.” Becca should understand that, working in his office and all.