Constructing Us (New Adult Romance)

by Lake, C. J.

  “Oh, hey, Matt,” she said when she saw him on the couch, and began clicking her way toward the front door.

  “Hey.”

  “Unh, Andy, you missed most of the first half,” Tragan told her, jerking his head toward the screen.

  Her sarcasm matched his, as she snapped her fingers and said, “Oh, darn…”

  Tragan grinned at her. “Heading out?”

  “Yes. Brad’s downstairs. But listen, I made quiche lorraine, if you guys are interested.”

  “Let’s see, ‘quiche’ ‘lorraine,’” Matt said, repeating each word distinctly and looking doubtful. “Sounds kinda girly to me.”

  “If Andy made it, it’s awesome,” Tragan said, tossing the rubber ball high and catching it. When he caught her eyes, she smiled at him. “Fortunately, I’m very secure in my masculinity, so I’ll be inhaling that in a minute.”

  “Okay, me, too,” Matt agreed. Then he looked over his shoulder at Andy. “Thanks.”

  “No problem. Let me know how it is. Also Tragan, would you do me a favor? I forgot to set the DVR up, but there’s a movie on LMN I wanted to see. It starts at midnight. Can you record it for me?”

  “Sure. Um, don’t you think you’ll be back by then?” he asked, sounding nonchalant though Matt sensed the question wasn’t completely casual.

  When Andy flipped a blonde wave over her shoulder, she revealed a sparkly earring dangling from her ear. “No, Brad and I are actually going out with another couple. They work at the hospital and they got tickets to see the Pops. Then we’re all doing dinner and they might show us their new townhouse, so I doubt it.”

  Though Tragan said, “Cool, have fun,” his tone was flat. He’d stopped tossing the ball now, and seemed to be absently compressing it in his hand.

  “Thanks, bye, guys,” Andy said with a wave, continuing to the door.

  After she left, Matt remarked, “So Andy’s cool.”

  “She’s got a boyfriend already,” Tragan said abruptly.

  “Uh, yeah--I kind of put that together myself,” Matt replied sarcastically. She’d basically said as much when she’d detailed her plans tonight. Besides it wasn’t like Matt was thinking of hitting on her; it was just a harmless observation.

  Suddenly Tragan rose from his chair. “Want another beer?”

  “Um, sure.”

  As Tragan headed toward the kitchen, Matt sensed his friend’s mood had changed. Tray seemed curt all of a sudden--irritable. Oh, no. With a quiet sigh, Matt shook his head, hoping he was wrong. That Tragan wasn’t jealous of this guy Brad. That his friend wasn’t catching feelings for Andy. Because what were the odds it could end well? As Matt had learned himself once: falling for a girl with a boyfriend was simply asking for trouble.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Guys, I need a favor--quick!” It was the next evening and Andy’s plea was addressed to Tragan and Bardo, who were slacked out in front of the TV. For half a second, she became distracted by the screen. “Oh, my gosh, more basketball?” she said. “Is it ever not on TV?”

  “It’s March,” Bardo explained, holding out his hands as though the logic was obvious--yet this didn’t appear to clarify anything.

  “What’s up?” Tragan broke in, getting back to the subject of her favor.

  Andy said: “My mom’s on her way up. We’re supposed to go shopping for my nephew’s birthday presents and then out to eat. But she wants to come up and use the bathroom first.”

  “And you’re out of toilet paper?” Bardo ventured.

  “No.”

  “Hand soap?”

  “Can you just let her talk?” Tragan said, silencing his friend and muting the game with the remote.

  “The thing is…she doesn’t technically know about you, Tragan.”

  “Which part?” he asked, confused.

  “Mm, the part about you existing. See, she thinks I live with a girl. It was just easier to tell her that. She’s been here before, of course, but never when you were home. So I always just told her that ‘Helga’ was out--”

  “Who?”

  “Oh, yeah, I told her that my roommate’s name was Helga,” Andy explained, then gave a hapless shrug. “It was the first name that came to mind when she asked me.”

  “Wow, Helga’s kind of a manly name for a girl,” Bardo remarked, then looked encouragingly at Tragan. “You should be flattered.”

  Suddenly there was a light rap at the door and Andy almost jumped. Her blue eyes went wide and pleading, gazing mostly at Tragan. “Please, just play along, okay?”

  Tragan nodded and Bardo gave her a thumbs-up.

  “Hi, mom! Come in,” Andy said warmly and led her mother into the apartment. Immediately Tragan saw a resemblance between the two women--the pretty blue eyes, the blonde hair, the petite frame. Though, Andy’s hair fell loosely past her shoulders, while her mother’s was pulled back into some coiled, uptight-looking hairstyle.

  “Guys, this is my mother, Kathryn. Mom, you know my roommate, Helga?”

  “No, unfortunately I still haven’t met her,” Kathryn stated, cautiously eying the two men in the living room.

  “Well, I just meant--this is Helga’s boyfriend, Jamie,” Andy said, pointing to Bardo.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” he said, tipping his head back to look at her.

  “And that’s Jamie’s friend, Tragan,” Andy finished.

  Unlike Bardo, Tragan bothered to rise up, walk around to her and extend his hand. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he said. When Kathryn took his hand, she smiled more graciously at him than she had at Bardo, who remained seated, with his arm spread across the back of the sofa.

  “Um, the bathroom’s right there,” Andy threw in with a little, nervous-sounding laugh. “Well, you’ve been here before, so obviously you know that.”

  “I’ll just be a moment.” Then Kathryn paused and said, “Actually, is Helga home today? I’d love to say hello finally.”

  “Oh, you know what? She’s not,” Andy said quickly. “She was here, but…then she ran out to get a pizza for Jamie. He was hungry.”

  At that, Kathryn made an unmistakably disapproving face and even slid Bardo a chastising look, albeit brief. “Hmph, well, times have sure changed,” she muttered under her breath (though Tragan managed to hear it), and then stepped into the bathroom.

  As Andy walked back toward the sofa, Bardo whispered to her: “Hey, wait--you didn’t make me look like a good boyfriend.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s true, Andy,” Tragan agreed, sitting back down. “Sitting on your ass while you send your girl out for pizza? That’s kind of a scumbag move.”

  “Yes,” Bardo agreed, slapping his own thigh, “that’s what I’m saying!”

  “I’m sorry!” she said softly, checking over her shoulder for signs of her mom. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  With some measure of concern, Tragan looked up at Andy’s face, and met her eyes. “So…you really think…your mom wouldn’t be cool with me?” he asked. A beat passed before he qualified, “I mean, you know, as a roommate.”

  Andy’s expression seemed to soften, as she tilted her head and studied him. “Tragan, it’s not personal, believe me. She’s just protective. She didn’t even want me to move out, but she was being supportive. She’s sort of old-fashioned, you know?”

  When Kathryn stepped out of the bathroom, Andy beamed a smile at her. “Ready?”

  On their way to the door, Bardo piped up. “I’ll tell Helga you said hello!” Tragan nearly rolled his eyes. Apparently his friend was futilely trying to convince the woman that he wasn’t a jackass boyfriend. “We have a very good relationship,” Bardo insisted with a smile. “She, uh, always gets my pizza just right.”

  Kathryn Delphin’s smile seemed strained. “Isn’t that nice?” she gritted out, as Andy led her to the door.

  As soon as they left, Tragan burst out laughing.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, bro. Oh, game’s back,” Tragan said, reaching for the remo
te.

  “Did I make it worse?” Bardo said.

  “Nah, it doesn’t even matter,” Tragan told him as he un-muted the TV.

  After a few moments, Bardo said, “So, buddy…do you have a thing for Andy now?”

  Slanting his friend a suspicious look, Tragan sort of ducked the question. “Why would you say that?”

  Bardo shrugged, still facing the screen. “I don’t know, it just seemed like you wanted her mom to like you.”

  At that, Tragan barked out a laugh. “I did? Man, what about you? ‘I’ll tell Helga you said hello’?”

  Bardo held up a hand to explain. “Hey, if Helga existed--and was into me--and was willing to pay a little attention to detail--I’m sure she would get my pizza just right.”

  Amused, Tragan said nothing, because if Bardo’s logic made him happy, who was Tragan to argue with it?

  ~

  An hour or so later, Matt and Pellican showed up with two jumbo cartons of Buffalo wings. As everyone descended on the food, Pellican announced, “Just a reminder--don’t forget--you guys are helping me move on Saturday.”

  “Yep.”

  “We know.”

  “And just so you know, it’s going to be back-breaking and intensive work,” Pellican went on, “so plan on being there all day.”

  Matt snorted as he pried off his bottle cap. “You’re really selling it, man.”

  “I just want to be upfront with it and honest,” Pellican said. “I’ve got a lot of stuff, so be prepared to lift more than just pillows.”

  Impatiently, Tragan interrupted, “I lift heavy shit all day long. I think I can handle it.”

  Meanwhile Bardo pressed two fingers to his throat, looking mildly distressed. “I think I’m coming down with a touch of something.”

  “Bullshit,” Pellican said with a warning tone. “Your ass better be there.”

  Bardo slumped in his seat, accepting his fate. With a chuckle, Matt tapped him on the arm. “It was a decent try.”

  “Oh, by the way,” Pellican said, relaxing his tone now and reaching toward the carton. “My sister’s helping, too, and she said she’ll probably bring her friend, Hailey. Tragan, I think you might be feeling her.”

  “Really?” Tragan said, though he was not particularly interested.

  “Yeah, Hailey’s really cute,” Pellican told him. “You know that girl Mia you used to date? Hailey sort of looks like her. I think she’s your type.”

  “Okay,” Tragan said with an acquiescent shrug, which was his way of saying “we’ll see.” Deep down he knew it wasn’t going to happen. Even if Pellican’s sister’s friend was cute as hell, Tragan was already way too into somebody else. As frustrating as this whole Andy thing was, right now she was the only girl he wanted--and the only girl he could picture as his.

  Chapter Eighteen

  On Friday that week, Andy met her sister at the Copley Mall for lunch. Emma worked flex hours at the science fiction magazine, Alien Notion, which rented an office suite on the sixth floor. After they ordered Caesar salads, Andy reached for her glass of water--and almost did a double-take.

  “What is it?” Emma said, noticing.

  “Oh, nothing,” Andy replied, realizing she’d been mistaken. “I just thought I saw Tragan. That guy over there...” She waved her hand vaguely in the direction of the sporting goods store across from the restaurant. “It’s not him.”

  “Hmm,” Emma murmured thoughtfully. “That’s the second time you thought you spotted Tragan. Before, it was over by the escalator. I’m thinking that either a fleet of sinister doppelgangers have descended on the city--or--he’s on your mind for some reason.”

  Rolling her eyes, Andy laughed. “Sinister doppelgangers? That’s the Alien Notion talking.”

  “Fine, but still.”

  At twenty-seven, Emma seemed perennially youthful in her appearance--especially now, with her cute, sardonic smile, and her shiny brown hair hanging straight, with a slim, narrow braid falling along each side of her face. One would never guess she was a widow and the mother of two small boys.

  “No, he’s not on my mind, per se,” Andy said now. “Though, I feel like I haven’t seen him in a few days,” she admitted. The truth was, she was starting to miss Tragan a lot. He’d been working long hours and life in the apartment seemed incomplete without him.

  “So what’s he like?” Emma asked now, sipping her soda. “Is he turning out to be semi-obnoxious like Ethan said?”

  “Not at all,” Andy stated emphatically. “I really don’t get what Ethan was talking about. Tragan’s really nice. He has a good sense of humor, too--and he’s fun.”

  “Good sense of humor? I’m already seeing the disconnect between him and Ethan,” Emma remarked dryly.

  Just then the waitress set down their salads. Immediately she apologized for forgetting the dressing, before hurrying off to get it.

  “Plus, he’s considerate,” Andy went on. “And he’s really cute,” she added without thinking.

  “Wait, he is?” Emma said, pausing as she stabbed into the lettuce. “I don’t recall you mentioning that detail when you first moved in.”

  “Oh. Well, I guess I didn’t realize it at first.” Strangely, it was the truth. Her attraction to Tragan had definitely grown since their initial meeting--though it was hard to believe she could have missed how incredibly hot he was.

  Appearing thoughtful, Emma didn’t say anything to that. Then after a moment of Andy pushing her salad around, she asked, “So what about Brad?”

  Guiltily, Andy looked up, somehow feeling caught. “What about him?”

  Innocently, Emma said, “How are you guys doing? That’s all I meant.”

  “Brad’s fine. He’s on rounds now.” Toying with her fork, Andy inhaled a sharp breath, then said, “The truth is…I’ve been thinking about maybe breaking up with Brad.”

  “Really?” Emma said, setting her own fork down.

  “Yes, but I’m not sure. I don’t want to do anything impulsive--because, you know, I’m not sure if we’re just in a blah phase and maybe it will pass.” Preempting any reaction from her sister, Andy commented, “I know you probably think I should.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Emma replied in her usual even tone.

  “I know you’ve never really liked him.”

  “Again--I never said that.”

  Impatiently, Andy stopped twisting her fork and looked at her sister dead-on. “I can tell. How come? For real.”

  For a moment, Emma glanced off to the side as if that were where the diplomacy could be found. “Well, Brad always just seemed so slick--and kind of shallow. I’m sorry,” she amended quickly, “maybe I’m wrong.”

  “Mom loves him,” Andy feebly pointed out.

  With a wry sort of look, Emma tilted her head. “Of course she does. Brad’s wealthy and nice-looking, with a prestigious career and impeccable manners. What’s not to love--from a mother’s point of view?”

  “Okay, but from a sister’s point of view…?” Andy pressed.

  Emma looked a bit reluctant before she answered, “I guess my read is that for half of the relationship you were away at school. You guys were leading totally separate lives. And in a way, you still are--you never seemed to have much in common. Look, I know he’s got the stats. Mom loves stats. But…” Emma gave a questioning shrug. “What’s holding you guys together?”

  When Andy hesitated--because she honestly didn’t have an answer to that--Emma said, “Don’t get me wrong. I know sometimes there is just a deep love, and there doesn’t have to be an itemized list of common interests. Sometimes there is just that strong bond between two people.” She didn’t have to say it; Andy knew that Emma was, at least on some level, referring to the love she’d shared with her late husband, Connor. They’d been high school sweethearts and pretty much attached to each other, until Connor was sent overseas and killed in combat four years ago.

  Andy wasn’t about to compare herself and Brad to Emma and Connor--even implicitly. “We
don’t have that big love,” she admitted. “But…I just like knowing he’s there for me.” She threw a hand over her eyes. “I guess that sounds so wrong!”

  “Of course it’s not wrong,” Emma assured her, reaching across the table to pry Andy’s hand off her face. “Half of any relationship is about leaning on the other person.”

  “Really?” Andy said almost tremulously, looking for some affirmation or maybe wisdom.

  “Yes, but that’s the weird part. You’re implying that Brad is some sort of a crutch, but in actuality, you really don’t lean on him much. So what’s even the point? You never stay at his place, and you don’t talk about him that often--not anymore. Honestly, it seems like you’ve outgrown him.”

  “Maybe I can’t handle change…?”

  “What BS! If you couldn’t handle change, then why would you move out of mom’s big house, and into that comparatively small apartment?” Mentioning the apartment brought Tragan to her mind again. “Just don’t be so tentative,” Emma told her firmly. “I know it’s hard to let go, but Brad’s not the only game in town. Other people are there for you, too--and anyway, you’re way stronger than you think.”

  When the waitress re-appeared to check on them, she noticed that they’d barely eaten their salads. “Everything all right?”

  “Yes, fine. Can I have another Sprite, please?” Emma said.

  “Sure.” As she reached over the table to grab Emma’s glass, Andy caught sight of someone about thirty feet away. A young guy with blackish hair, walking toward the men’s room. For an instant, he reminded her of Tragan…but she didn’t dare mention that to her sister.

  Chapter Nineteen

  That night Andy started feeling woozy. It happened somewhat suddenly, after a couple hours of reading. She set her book down and squeezed her eyes shut. Then put her head down on the arm rest for a few moments. It was the chair that Tragan usually sat in when his friends were over and now she thought she caught a trace of his scent with her face against the fabric.