It's Only Temporary - The Complete Collection

by Megan Bryce

It had taken the ever efficient Ms. Charles a few days to get Delia’s painting framed and hung. Thanksgiving had interfered, but finally, it was there. Front and center in Jack’s lobby and Delia stood in front of it, grinning.

  If you were thinking paper, like most people who came through the door would be, that’s what it looked like. Brightly colored specks of paper, flying, like a brisk wind had just flown in through an open window and flung the papers in the air.

  And they did look colorful and happy and feisty. They looked joyful in their one moment of freedom.

  Jack had asked what she called this painting and when she’d said, “Supernova,” because she thought she’d been painting an exploding star, he’d said, “Now it’s called Paper.”

  She hadn’t even argued with him. He was right, it was paper. She thought she’d been painting the stars and it had turned out to be paper.

  And that seemed just about right.

  Delia floated to Jack’s office. She couldn’t decide what she was happier about, having her painting there or having the check deposited in her bank account.

  They were all really, really great feelings.

  And this week, Jack’s desk and bookcase would be moved to the other side of the office and Delia would start painting the other half of the ceiling. Half-way done.

  Delia smiled at Ms. Charles and breezed into Jack’s office. When she found it empty, she deflated a bit, but realized this was probably for the best.

  She was just entirely too happy to trust herself around him.

  Delia pulled off her coat, pulled on her booties, and realized something was wrong.

  It was 9:23, and there was no Jack. He could have been in a meeting but his computer was on, his chair was out from behind his desk instead of pushed in neatly.

  Delia said into the empty office, “Jack?”

  “Up here.”

  She climbed the scaffolding to find him lying on his back studying the ceiling.

  “What are you doing?”

  He tipped his head to look at her and said, “Looking at Lucifer’s brothel.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I think you’re imagining it.”

  “I assure you I couldn’t imagine the things I’m seeing up here. You’re the one with the overactive imagination.”

  He pointed to a spot that from far away would look like a cloud and her face turned red.

  He said, “Is that me?”

  “No. That’s Lucifer.”

  “Lucifer looks like me.”

  “Oh? Do you have a tail?”

  “No. I especially don’t have a tail that is shaped like a phallus at the end.”

  Delia looked away from the ceiling. “Okay, let’s go down. This scaffolding really can’t hold two people.”

  Jack pointed to what would look like, from down on the ground where he should have been, two clouds stuck together and said, “And look, here I am again. But this time my tail is in use.”

  She started making her way down and he said loudly, “And just what is that I’m pleasuring? A donkey?”

  She muttered, “It’s Lucifer’s brothel. It’s not really about pleasure.”

  Delia jumped down the last step and looked up to find him leaning over the side. He said, “I’m really getting the impression you don’t like me.”

  “It’s not you.”

  “So you’ve said. Are you up here?”

  “No.”

  His lips tipped up. “Mm. I don’t think I believe you. That donkey is slightly red.”

  “That cloud is just close to the setting sun. It’s a red sky. Things are red.”

  He smiled. A smile that made her stomach twist, that made the fire flicker in her belly.

  Delia turned away. “I’ve got to go. Don’t kill yourself climbing down the scaffolding.”

  When she got to the door, she turned to find him still watching her. Still smiling.

  And she ran.

  She ran to the stairs, flying past the elevators and down three flights before she slowed. Another three flights of stairs before she stopped to sit wide-eyed and unseeing on the slate gray step.

  She sat, and she told herself what she’d been telling herself since she painted him up on that ceiling doing indecent things to a four-legged animal. Don’t be an ass, Delia. The ass is not enjoying it.

  Oh sure, it looked like it was having a good time. It looked like it had forgotten its name and never needed to remember it again.

  But it was just fire. He was just fire. It would burn out. She would just wait here until it had burned itself out.

  She sat there for over an hour and then climbed back up a few flights to Gus’s floor.

  Delia waited for Gus to finish helping a new hire and then said, “I’m not going to lunch with you guys today.”

  “Why not? Jack said he was treating us to the best steak in Boston to celebrate having your painting hung.”

  Delia muttered, “I am really starting to hate that man.”

  “No one hates Jack. He’s perfect. He never does anything wrong.”

  Delia lifted a corner of her lip. “Speak for yourself. He’s got a sadistic streak a mile wide.”

  “No, he doesn’t. Wanting to celebrate with ‘the best steak ever’ is not sadistic.”

  “I must see a different side of him than his little sister does.”

  Gus snickered. “Don’t tell me what side of him you’re seeing.”

  Delia opened her mouth and Gus smirked, “You didn’t come home the other night.”

  “Well, I was not with Jack, seeing that side of him. I was at Justine’s. I missed her couch.”

  “Sure.”

  “It’s sad but true that her couch is softer than my new bed.”

  “And how soft is Jack’s bed?”

  Delia flopped her head onto the counter, her arms falling heavily.

  Gus pushed at Delia’s arms. “Hey, hey, hey. This scanner is brand new, don’t break it. And I don’t care what you’re doing with my brother, as long as I don’t have to think about it too hard.”

  Delia pushed herself back up and Gus checked the scanner intimately, making sure it was okay. She said, “I requisitioned it,” and there was pride on her face. This was Gus getting stuff done, and Gus liked it.

  Gus leaned in close, jerking her head at the office behind her and whispering, “She makes me sign all the requisition slips now.” She grinned. “We’re getting a Keurig.”

  Delia looked at her happy face and said, “I wish I was eighteen again.”

  Wished she could be carefree and live in the moment, like she used to. Wished she could be innocent again and not know the ending. Not know that in six months Gus would hate this job that she loved so much.

  Not know that after the excitement and pride came the boredom.

  Not know that after the fire came the emptiness.

  She wished that she could just go upstairs and close Jack’s door behind her and put out the flame because it wasn’t going away on its own. She wished that she could be happy just having that one moment.

  But she wasn’t eighteen, and she did know. And she couldn’t un-know it.

  Gus said, “No, you don’t. You just can’t remember what it’s really like. Everyone tells you what to do.”

  “That doesn’t change, Gus. You just learn not to listen because everyone always has an idea of what your life should be like. It is too easy to advise and criticize. It’s living that is hard. It’s taking your own advice that’s hard.”

  “Is that why you’re not sleeping with him?” Gus pointed to the ceiling a few times. “Because you think you shouldn’t or because someone else thinks you shouldn’t?”

  “Are you trying to pimp out your own brother?”

  Gus folded her hands and said seriously, “You’re good for him. You make him smile.”

  “I’m not good for him, I’m not anything for him. And, anyway, I don’t think he’d be good for me. He reminds me of when I was married. He reminds me of how I was with my ex-
husband.”

  Delia folded her arms and looked up at the ceiling. She didn’t think about how she’d paint a reverse pyramid, a reverse stairway to heaven, on it.

  Gus said, “Do you hate him?”

  “My ex-husband? I know it’s hard to imagine but I don’t think anything of him.” Delia shook her head. “I wanted him so bad, I thought I would die without him, and now, he’s nothing to me. It happened, it’s over, I have the tattoo.”

  “Can I see it?”

  Delia sighed. “Don’t tell Jack I showed it to you. It’s embarrassing.”

  She looked down the hallway, making sure it was clear, then pushed her jeans down just enough to show Gus the Pierre that was scrawled across her butt cheek.

  Gus studied it silently, then said, “You know what it kind of looks like?”

  Delia closed her eyes and nodded. She knew. She’d designed the stupid thing, made everything just right, but somehow, with the placement, with the cursive, it didn’t look like Pierre, it looked like Piuu. She must have been trying to tell herself something.

  Gus screeched, “Oh, God! That is embarrassing!”

  Delia pulled her pants back up. “It does make me think twice before I hop into bed with someone. And I make sure the lights are out.”

  Gus shrieked with laughter and Delia couldn’t help but laugh with her. Delia had only been eighteen when she’d gotten the tattoo, when she’d gotten married. So young. So stupid.

  Gus finally choked out, “Now if you’d told me you didn’t want to sleep with Jack because you didn’t want him to see that, I’d believe you.”

  Delia didn’t want to sleep with Jack because she didn’t want a tattoo on the other cheek that said Jackass.

  Delia watched Gus laugh for a little while longer, then said, “I guess I’ve got to go back upstairs. I can’t stay down here listening to you squeal about my tattoo.”

  Gus wheezed out, “I’ll be sure and knock before entering. Just in case you’re getting Jack’s opinion on it.”

  “Don’t make me come over there and break your scanner.”

  Gus wrapped her arms around the scanner protectively and Delia waved as she walked out the door. She trudged back to Jack’s office, ducking her head as she pushed his door open. She pointed a finger in the direction of his desk and said, “Don’t.”

  When he didn’t say anything, she snuck a glance at him. He was smiling. Not a sexy smile, not a melt-in-your-mouth smile. It was a smile that said he knew he’d made her run.

  She said, “Don’t!”

  He wiped the smile off his face and looked down at his keyboard, and she didn’t say another word to him until noon.

  He turned off his computer, pushed his chair in, and said, “The best steak in Boston?”

  She clipped out, “Yes. Thank you.”

  He chuckled as she climbed down, and when she got to the bottom she turned to him and said, “Today will be my treat.”

  He shook his head and ushered her out the door. “No, Delia, it will always be mine.”

  She was afraid he was right.

  The next Monday, Delia and Gus treated themselves to a coffee early before work. Because they’d arrived before nine and neither one of them was willing to let their bosses know it was actually possible for them to do that.

  Delia choked at the price of a simple black coffee and said, “Whatever happened with the Keurig?”

  “Yeah, it’s up there. But what are we going to do for thirty minutes? You don’t want to give Jack a heart attack by showing up on time.”

  Delia wouldn’t mind giving Jack a mini heart attack, she just didn’t want him to expect her to show up on time ever again. Today had been a fluke.

  Delia sighed and ordered a small. Gus splurged with a cinnamony mexi-mocha.

  They sat and sipped, watching other workers taking the time to grab a hit of caffeine before rushing up to their offices.

  Delia said, “How come I’ve never met Nate? I’m starting to think he doesn’t really exist.”

  Gus had gone out with him last night again but he’d never come up to the apartment. Delia wasn’t sure he did exist accept she could hear his motorcycle revving as he sped away with Gus on the back.

  Gus drummed her fingers on the table, then leaned forward conspiratorially.

  “I’ll tell you but you can’t tell Jack. Promise me.”

  “Oh, like you didn’t tell him about my tattoo? Sure, I promise.”

  “He’s going to find out about that anyway when he finally gets you naked.” Gus closed her eyes, pretending to vomit, then waved that image away. She said, “And that’s why Nate hasn’t come up to the apartment. I know you’ll tell Jack.”

  “I told you I wasn’t going to report your every little move to him. One, I don’t care enough to keep track. And two, it’s none of his business.”

  Okay, she might be splitting hairs there because she would tell Jack every little thing about Nate.

  Gus read Delia’s mind and said, “Promise you won’t tell him anything about me and Nate.”

  Delia crossed her arms and tried to imagine what secret Gus could possibly be hiding.

  Gus said, “Well?”

  “I’m thinking. Are you pregnant?”

  Gus’s head whipped back and she said with disgust, “No!”

  “Are you doing anything illegal?”

  Gus rolled her eyes. “No. I just don’t want Jack to know. I don’t want a lecture. I don’t want him to look at me like he’s disappointed.” She murmured into her coffee cup, “I finally got that look out of his eyes.”

  Delia said, “If it’s something involving drugs or animal sacrifice then my promise is null and void.”

  “It’s nothing like that.”

  Delia nodded. “Okay then. I promise I won’t tell Jack.”

  “He’s old.”

  “I think Jack was born old.”

  “Not Jack. Nate.”

  Delia took a sip, giving herself time to digest that. “How old?”

  “He’s twenty-eight. He’s mature, a man. Not like those stupid eighteen-year-old boys who think it’s funny to moon everyone.”

  Delia snorted. Yes, eighteen-year-old boys were stupid. And so were most eighteen-year-old girls. Luckily, most of them grew out of it.

  Delia said, “I object to you calling a twenty-eight-year-old old considering I am eight years older than that. However, yeah, that’s kind of old for him to be your boyfriend.”

  “Jack would hate it.”

  “Is that why you’re doing it?”

  Gus gave Delia the insulted teenager look. “No!”

  “So what’s so great about this twenty-eight-year-old?”

  “He rides a motorcycle.”

  Delia nodded. “Sure. That’s hot.”

  “You know what I like about you, Delia? I could tell you anything and it wouldn’t shock you.”

  “I lived in San Francisco; I’m pretty hard to shock. A guy riding a motorcycle doesn’t even register. What else do you like about him?”

  Gus stared at her blankly and Delia said, “That’s it? He rides a motorcycle?”

  “There’s more than that. He’s wild and crazy. He doesn’t care about money and society and rules.”

  “Well, as long as you’re having a good time with him. But next time you might want to think about raising your standards. There’s lots of wild and crazy men out there who don’t care about rules. A lot of them are in jail.”

  Gus sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. “He’s different.”

  “Different from what you’re used to.”

  “Yes! He doesn’t care that Mother is a Lowell, that Jack is a Cabot, that I’m a Bradlee.”

  Delia stared blankly at her and Gus muttered, “In certain circles, those names mean something.”

  “Right. Well. Still. I’m guessing there are lots of men out there who wouldn’t care about that. I’m simply saying think about raising your standards. Think about what you want in a man, not what he doesn�
�t want in you.”

  “There’s lots of things men don’t want in me. It’s the limiting factor.”

  “Honey. You’re a gorgeous eighteen-year-old woman. You could have any man you wanted.”

  Gus waved at her black, chopped off hair. “No, I couldn’t.”

  “I bet you–” Delia pulled out her wallet and opened it. “I bet you sixteen dollars and fifty-eight cents that I could pick out any man in here and you could make him forget his name.”

  Gus laughed, blushing a little.

  Delia pushed at her. “Gonna put your money where your mouth is, poor little rich girl?”

  “Delia.”

  Delia jutted her chin at the guy at the cash register. “He looks like your age. Go see if you can conquer someone who is not ten years older than you and starting to grow a beer belly.”

  “Nate doesn’t have a beer belly.”

  “Then what’s wrong with him?”

  “Nothing. He’s just a little older than me.”

  Delia didn’t believe her. There was something wrong with a twenty-eight-year-old wanting an eighteen-year-old girlfriend. Gus was just too inexperienced to realize that.

  Delia said, “Ten years older than you and he doesn’t have the balls to meet your roommate? Doesn’t have the money to buy you breakfast?”

  “You’re eighteen years older than me and don’t have money for breakfast.”

  “Touché. Is he a starving artist?”

  “Please drop this.”

  “I will when you go make that kid over there forget his name.”

  Gus sighed, closing her eyes. “Do you make fun of Justine’s boyfriend like this?”

  “Oh, yeah. You should ask her about it. Paul’s easy to make fun of, just like Beer Belly.”

  “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about him. You promised you wouldn’t say anything about him.”

  Delia shook her head, sipping her rapidly cooling coffee. “No, I promised I wouldn’t tell Jack about him. I didn’t say I wouldn’t make fun of him incessantly for dating a girl ten years too young.”

  Gus glanced at the kid behind the register. “If I do this, you’ll shut up?”

  “About Beer Belly, I will.”

  “I’m never telling you anything ever again.”

  “That’s fair. But I’m pretty sure you’ve already told me all your juicy secrets.”