186 Miles

NICOLE HILDRETH

To Robbie…

And my long list of rock star family and friends

who have literally been listening to me

yammer on about this for the past six months.

XOXO to you all.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Chapter One

I don’t remember what the weather was like that day.  It could have been 30 degrees outside.  It may have been 100.  I just remember sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair, wearing an uncomfortable black dress, staring into a hole.  That hole was made in order to bury my husband.

Ryan Stephens was a good man.  He worked as an insurance actuary.  35 years old.  We had no children; we were “waiting for the right time.”  He went running on a Saturday morning.  45 minutes later, I got a visit from the police.  Ryan was gone.  That was it.  Heart attack.

I was 33 and starting over.  What the fuck do I do now?

After the service, everyone came to my house, a tradition I’ve never understood.  Luckily, I was always a party planner.  We hosted three to four parties a year; I knew exactly how many canapés would feed 30.  So, I made platters.  I made cold food, I made hot food.  I kept busy.

An idle mind is the devil’s playground.  (My mother said this.)

No one knew what to say.  The looks on their faces said it all.  Everyone pushed to keep the atmosphere light.  There was a lot of arm rubbing and reassurances that I “wasn’t alone” and if I “needed anything,” surely, I should let them know.

Was I supposed to call them when I couldn’t sleep?  Or eat?

Ryan was in a band in college.  I always assumed it was, you know, the marching band or something super-geek.  He talked about “the band,” but I never inquired much about it.  Not only was I the host of this event, but I was also hosting two of the members of this group for the week.

They came Monday afternoon.  Word travels fast.  The viewing was Tuesday at 4 pm.  The burial was the next morning.  They wanted to help me.

Rachel, what can we do?  Can we help you set the table?  Call anyone?

For the most part, I kept quiet.  I liked both of these people.  They were great; I just didn’t feel much for socializing and they let me have my time.

I asked them questions.  Not a lot at first, but enough to know who was staying in my home.  They were brothers.   Vince Conti was the older of the two.  35, the same age as Ryan.  He had wild, deep brown hair and a tall, thin frame.  When he smiled, I noticed that one of his teeth in the front was overlapping the other just a bit.  I liked it.  It gave his face character.  Vince, he smiled a lot.  He was here for his friend’s funeral, but he had a calm air about him.  He, too, did a lot of arm rubbing.  I had never met this man, but I let him touch me.  He felt oddly familiar, friendly even.

Jack was my age.  He wore his dark hair short, neatly trimmed and tight.  He was shorter than Vince by at least three inches, his body resembling that of a boxer.  Strong looking arms, substantial shoulders, washboard stomach.  He wore glasses most of the time; cute, retro-looking black plastic frames… very GQ.  Jack and Vince had faces that indicated their close relation, but that’s where the similarities stopped.  Vince looked like he could eat anything and nothing would happen.  Jack looked like he ate 3,000 calories before breakfast and then spent the remainder of the day under a weight bench.  He seemed quiet, reserved.

Jack wore a wedding band.  Vince did not.

That day, I spent a lot of time filling and refilling trays.

Do you need another drink?

Napkin?

Let me get that for you.

I ran around.  I talked to the kids, got them an extra juice box, watched them color.  I avoided “the adults.”  I knew everyone meant well.  Of course they did!  They were my friends, my family, Ryan’s friends, Ryan’s family.  But this day, they were all just in my house.  Eating my food, staring at their plates.  Bereaved.  Uncomfortable.

They offered to stay, help clean.  Visit… keep me “company.”  Normally, if someone wanted to help pick up, I’d be all about it.  Want to help clear at Thanksgiving?  Hell yes.  Want to collect all of the random wrapping paper on Christmas?  Have at it.  Today, I wanted to be left alone.  I fantasized about eating Ben and Jerry’s and drowning myself in an Arrested Development marathon on Netflix.  I made it clear that I wasn’t interested in any extra guests.

Vince helped me clear plates, bag trash, wash dishes… all while telling me about his life back in Chicago.  Even though we were only a little over a three hour drive, I wondered why I had never met him before.  I had heard Ryan speak of him often, but I didn’t know what he did, what part of the city he lived in, if he was married; nothing.  I felt embarrassed.  He seemed to know a lot more about me than I did about him.

I peeked around the corner towards the living room.  Jack was laying back on the couch, head propped on a pillow; his eyes were shut.

I kept my voice low.  “So, I noticed that Jack wears a wedding ring, but he’s never mentioned being married.”  I picked up a fork and set it in the dishwasher tray.

“He is,” he whispered, “but I think that they are getting a divorce.  Not a hundred percent, but…”

“He’s maybe getting a divorce and you’re not a hundred percent?”

“Well,” scratching his head, “the girl he married?  She got pregnant.”

“And?”

“It’s not his.”

“Yowsa.”

“Yeeeeahhh.”  He smiled.  He had a dimple.  I hadn’t noticed before.

“Well, there you go.”  I smiled back.

“There you go.”  He nudged me with his hip as he loaded a few plates.  It seemed deliberate.

“So, what about you?  Married?  Girlfriend?”  I cocked my head at him.  “Boyfriend?”

“Uh huh.  To all three.”  He smiled again.  “Actually, I’m not really a ‘dater.’”

“A ‘dater?’”  A thin smile spread across my lips.

“I don’t really ‘date.’  I see girls sometimes, but I’d rather wake up alone, you know?”  He shrugged.  I got the feeling that this wasn’t the first time he’d answered that question.  It sounded well-rehearsed.

“Huh.”

“What, huh?  What does ‘huh’ mean?”  He shut the dishwasher door.

“Nothing.”  I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and threw it on the counter.  “Anyway, I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.  I think I may go to bed.  Can you get the lights?”

“Yeah, sure.”  He paused.  “Hey, Rachel?”

“Yep?”

“Thanks for taking us in.  We’ll be gone before you know it.”

“You’re no trouble.  Really.”  Honestly, they weren’t.  I welcomed the distraction.

*

I woke to the rooster.  That goddamned rooster.  I hated that alarm, but Ryan found it “amusing.”  I couldn’t bear to pack it.  Although, that was what today was for.  Today, we packed.

In movies, when a child died, I always found it bizarre that it took the parents something like ten years to even endure the task of packing a single stuffed animal.  I mean, I guess I got it, but it always seemed excessive.  Now, faced with that situation myself, I couldn’t imagine holding on to anything.  Looking at all of Ryan’s things made me want him back.  I just wanted to shut the blinds and hide.  How would I ever feel normal again?

Would I?  Would I meet someone new on fucking match.com and then remarry in a year?

The thought repulsed me.

Ryan was an average man.  Not flashy or rich or beautiful.  He made me feel safe.  Flawed, but he was thoughtful and charming.  He told me I was pretty.  I always felt like I was too fat.  Ryan touched me constantly.  He would lay his hand on the dip in my side and say “I love this.”  He talked about me in front of his friends like I wasn’t there.  Isn’t she amazing?

I sat up in bed and looked at his side of the closet.  After a quick scan, I lowered my eyes to my feet and focused on my chipped toenail polish.  I would not cry.

I shuffled out to the kitchen, careful not to wake my new friends.  After making a pot of coffee, I dug around for lawn and leaf bags.  Grabbing a few, I headed back up to my bedroom.  Sitting down on the floor, I took out a pair of cream colored Converse.  They were ruined.  I placed them in the bottom of the bag and literally choked on a sob.  Could I do this?

Vince gave a quiet two-fingered knock to my open bedroom door.

“Rachel?”

I quickly wiped away my tears and cleared my throat.  “Hey!”  Ugh.  A little too animated.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I thought I heard you crying.”  He ran his hand through his unruly, dark hair.  It really did have a mad scientist quality height to it.

“Nope, just packing.”  I picked up another pair of old running shoes and tossed them in the bag like it was nothing.

“Want some help?”

“Um… sure.  I’m just going to go grab a cup of coffee first.”

“Let me.  Black, right?”

“Yeah.”  I pinched my forefinger and thumb between my eyes.  “Thank you.”

His t-shirt was white and fitted with block letters that simply read “Shangri-La.”  I thought to myself that’s totally Vince, though I barely knew him at all.

We drank coffee.  We talked about Northwestern.  I found out that he worked at a recording studio on Division.  As it turned out, it was just up the street from where my sister, Elsa, lived in Wicker Park.  He was funny and eloquent.  We talked about Ryan.

Ryan was an amazing guitarist.  Ryan was an incredible writer.   Ryan was such a loyal friend.

He had so many considerate things to say.

I knew Vince would be leaving tomorrow.  It made my insides twist.  Who would I talk to?  Where would I go?  It was safe having him and Jack there.  They didn’t know me like my other friends.  It was simpler that way.  They wouldn’t pry.  They would just let me fucking sit.

My mother had left me ten messages… since yesterday.

Rachel, I don’t want you to be by yourself.

Rachel, call your sister.  I’m sure she would come down.

Rachel, you should go to Carrie’s.  I’m sure she could use some company.

Rachel, make some chili.  Who doesn’t like chili?  And it keeps!

I was surprised to have received the messages at all.  My mother had a gift; she made every disaster in life somehow revolve around her.  I powered my phone down.  No more calls.

Vince and Jack wanted to go out for our last night.  They wanted me to show them “the sights” of Indianapolis.  I definitely wasn’t an expert on the city.  We had lived in town for a little less than five years, but I only knew how to navigate my neighborhood with any mastery.  So, I started there.

We went to dinner at a pub in the Village.  Jack wanted to drink.  To Ryan!  To Ryan.

We went back to the house and sat on the patio.  Ryan and I had spent many nights out there, laughing with friends, sitting on the loveseat together, his hand lazily stroking my thigh.  I could still hear his voice.

How did I get so lucky to have found you?  And I get to keep you.

I could still smell the fabric softener in his favorite orange, plaid shirt.  His hands were soft, even after playing guitar for hours.

So, I sat there, fake laughing with my new friends, feeling blank.  I knew that Vince could feel my ache.  He made eye contact often.  He kicked me playfully in the leg, as if he were trying to wake me up.  I smiled and played along.  Eventually, I excused myself and went upstairs.

I looked at Ryan’s side of the closet, now empty.  I clicked off the light and listened to the muffled laughter through my window.

Chapter Two

Friday.  Vince and Jack were leaving today. Could I ask them to stay?

I knew that Vince worked on Monday.  He had already taken four days of PTO in order to attend the services.  I couldn’t ask.  I wouldn’t.

Jack sipped his coffee thoughtfully.  “Are you going to be okay, Rachel?  I mean, we could come back next weekend.  It’s like, what, three hours?”  He looked to Vince.

“Yeah, Rachel, we could come back.  Or Jack could go without me and I could stay with you for a while.”

I looked at him, confused.  “What?  No, of course not.  I’m fine.  I’ll be fine.  You guys don’t need to worry about me.  I have chili, you know.”  I gave a short laugh.  Please do not pity me.  Please.

Vince put his feet on the coffee table.  “Honestly, I can take as much time as I want.  A few phone calls and it’s done.”

“I couldn’t ask you to stay.”  I left it open ended.

“Well,” Vince continued, “how about this?  How about we go home tomorrow instead?  Then, I’ll come back next Friday.  I can help you with whatever you need done around here.  Or we can just get drunk and watch House Hunters.”

I laughed, this time genuinely.  “It’s fine, guys.  I’m cool.  You have both been a super help this week.”

“You act like this is the end.  We’re going to see you again, woman.”  Jack softly bumped elbows with me.

“Yeah, sure.  When I come to the city to see my sister, I’ll call you both.”

“Not necessary,” Vince added.  “I’ll see you next Friday.  Besides, we’ll see you tonight because we aren’t leaving until tomorrow.”

Jack nodded.  “Y-yyep.”

“Seriously, go home.”

“You want us to go home?”  Vince stuck out his bottom lip.

“I mean, I’m not kicking you out, but you don’t have to stay.  I’m sad, but I’m not that sad.  I’ve got people, you know.”  I smiled.

“What fucking people?  I haven’t heard your phone ring in three days,” Jack responded.  He had a point.

“I turned it off.”

“Why haven’t they come by?  My buddy’s wife dies?  I’m gonna stop by if he’s not answering the phone.”  Why hadn’t I thought about that?

“Eh, whatever.  They know you guys are here, so it’s no big whoop.”  I got up and busied myself by unloading the dishwasher.  When I looked up, Vince was examining me.  I quickly looked back at the silverware tray.  I needed to focus on something other than him.

We watched television a bit that morning.  I went to the garden; neither Jack nor Vince followed me.  I pulled weeds for a while and then just sat on the flower bed and lit a cigarette.  I stared blankly across the street at some kids playing basketball.  I quit smoking three years ago, but bought a pack this week. I didn’t intend to start back up, but I didn’t want to be away from a vice right now.  I never was much of a drinker.

“You have another one of those?”

I jumped.  “Jesus, Vince!”

“Sorry!  Sorry, Rachel.  I thought you heard me.”  He grinned and pushed his hands deep in his pockets.  His pants were tight.  I could see the outline of his fingers.  He was barefoot.

I smiled back and handed him a Camel.  “Hope you like Virginia Slims Ultra-Light Menthol 120s.”

“I prefer Capris.”  He let out a short, hard laugh.  “My mom smoked them.  It was the first cigarette I ever tried.  Jack and I took a few out of her purse and went to the park.  I was sick for a fucking week.”

“Serves you right.  Capris are a classy ladies’ cigarette.  Not meant for children.”

He smiled.  “Sure you don’t want me to stay tomorrow?”

“I’m sure.”  I wanted him to stay.

I felt awful.  I knew I was lonely.  That’s what this was.  This mindless flirting wasn’t even real.  He was being nice to his friend’s wife.  She had lost her husband.  That’s definitely what this was.

We smoked our cigarettes.  He placed his hand lightly in mine and squeezed my fingers.  “I’ll text you this week.  If you are feeling upset or lonely, just send me something.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it, Rachel.  Ryan was my friend.  Now you are too, so that’s what we do.”

I snubbed my butt into the dirt and placed it in my coffee can filled with weeds.  I was starting to get a fucking lump in my throat.  I had to get out of there.  I needed to be alone to come apart in peace.

“Hey.”  He placed his thumb under my chin, forcing me to look up at him.  I tried to look over his head… anything.  “Hey,” he said again, this time with a rougher tone.

I got up and brushed the dirt off of the back of my sundress.  “I’m fine, Vince.  I just need a few minutes.  I actually have a lot of work to do.  I have this design project to work on and I haven’t looked at it in days.  Do you and Jack want to go somewhere?  I can give you directions to wherever.  Art museum?  Bars?”  I tried to smile.  It was weak.

He stood.  “Rachel, look at me.”  I did.  “Jack and I don’t need to be entertained.  We are here for you.  So if you want to work, work.  But if you want to hang out with us, hang out with us.  No one expects you to work today.  I’m sure your boss would understand if you took off this week.”

“I’ve already taken off this week.  I’ve been off since last Monday.”

“Rachel, for fuck’s sake!  Take vacation.  You’re a mess.”

God, was I that pathetic?

“I need to work for a while.  Just an hour.  Then we will go get some lunch or I can make something.  Whatever you guys like.”

Truth was, I just needed an hour away from Vince.

*

I lay down on my bed and stared at the clock.  11:07 am.  Get up, Rachel.

I still hadn’t cleaned up yet after my gardening, so I ran a hot shower and stepped in.  I leaned against the tile wall, closing my eyes.  When I opened them, I noticed that I had forgotten about Ryan’s toiletries.  Razor, shaving balm, body wash.  I took the bottle and squeezed a small amount into my palm.   I rubbed it on my arms.  Goddamn it.  I rinsed immediately.  I then took some of my own soap and covered his scent with mine.  I was torturing myself.

I dried my long, honey-colored hair and shoved it up into a loose bun.  After applying a light layer of makeup, I zipped up a new dress.  I had gotten some sun earlier.  My shoulders were pink.

When I got downstairs, the guys were playing a video game on the console.  Jack was winning, but Vince didn’t seem to care.  He looked up at me and mouthed I’m sorry.

I mouthed it back.

Vince got up from the game.  “Hey!” Jack yelled as he walked in front of his line of vision.

He walked over and put his arms around me.  He had touched me a hundred times, but this was the first real hug I had gotten in days.  I squeezed back, tight.  He kissed the top of my forehead when I started to pull back.  He squeezed tighter and said, “Bring it in, lady.  This is the good stuff.”  I laughed gently.  It was the best stuff.

Chapter Three

Jack and Vince left on Saturday morning as planned.

I decided to listen to Vince and take the week off of work.  Honestly, it was much needed.  I read, I planted, I had dinner with my friends.  Carrie came over that Sunday night after the guys had left and kept me company.  She brought her two girls with her.  They played in my small yard while Carrie and I sat on the patio.

Carrie was the first friend I found after moving to Indiana.  Ryan urged me to meet people, so I signed up for a Zumba class at the park.  She was there, in the back row like me, just as uncoordinated.  After three classes together, we decided to get a beer.  We never went back to that class.

“So, how were Ryan’s friends?”  Carrie was wide-eyed and curious.

“They were really good.  A good distraction, I think.”

“Yeah?  I can’t believe those guys are brothers.  They totally look like different species.”

“I know, right?”

“So, are you going to see them again?”

“Um,” I paused.  “I don’t know.  I mean, I’m sure we’ll stay in touch or I’ll friend them on Facebook or whatever, but I really hadn’t thought about it much.”

“Dude, they stayed at your house for like a week.”

“It wasn’t a whole week.”

“Whatever.  You know what I mean.  It was long enough.”

“What do you want me to say?”  I looked at her, exasperated.

“Nothing.  I was just curious.  You turned your phone off all week and hung out with these two strangers, so I figured there was more to it.”

“Well, there’s not, so…” I nervously picked at the skin around my fingernails.  “I think I’m going to cut my hair.  Ryan liked it long, but I’ve always wanted it short.”

“You should totally do that.  You would look hot in an Emma Watson pixie.”  She smiled at me.  I was sure that she thought I was kidding.  I wasn’t.

*

On Thursday morning, I called my hairdresser.  “Maria, hey, it’s Rachel.  Rachel Stephens.”

“Rachel!”  Her voice audibly dropped.  “I heard about your husband.  Ay, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Thank you.  Hey, do you think you could squeeze me in today?  Just a cut.”

“Yeah, I’ve got two cancellations in a row today.  This fucking place.  I should quit.”  Her Puerto Rican accent was cute.  “Anyway, I’ve got a 10:30 or 11:00.”

“Um, I’ll take the early one.”

“Alright, mama.  See you in an hour or so.”

*

I arrived around 10:15.  Maria was ready for me, so I plopped down in her chair.  “My friend said I would look hot in an Emma Watson pixie.  So, that’s what I want.”  I paused.  “Hmm, maybe with longer bangs though.”

“Are you sure, Mami?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, you got it.  And she’s right.  You’re gonna look hot.”

An hour later, I looked in the mirror at a new girl.  My bangs hit just below my eyelashes, but she had cut the sides and back super short.  After a few pins and a lot of unnecessary product, I was complete.  And Carrie was right.  I looked cute.

So cute, in fact, I texted Vince and sent him a selfie.

He texted back.

Vince:  Holy Shit!

Me: Not exactly the response I was looking for.

Vince: I just can’t believe you did that.  It looks good.  Like really good.

Was he flirting with me?

Me: Thanks.  Hope you are well.

Vince: That’s it?

Me: That’s it.  Talk to you soon.

Vince: You will.

*

On Friday, I woke up late.  I started a pot of coffee when the doorbell rang.  I looked through the peephole.  Fuck!

I swung the door open.  “Vince!  What are you doing here?”

“Um, it’s Friday.”

“Yeah?”

“I said I would come back on Friday, so… here I am.”

“I thought when you said that you were coming back on Friday, you meant like ‘someday.’”  I was mumbling.  Incoherent.  Blushing.  What was he doing here?

“I smell coffee.”

“Yes.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.  Yes, of course.”  God, I was an idiot.

“I missed you this week.”

“Yeah?”  I knew I was blushing... again.  I felt like this was the first time we had ever met.  I hadn’t showered.  Gah!  My now short hair had to be a wreck.

“You look so cute with that hair.”  Was he reading my mind?  “I still can’t believe that you did that.  Up top!”  He raised his hand in the air so I could smack it.  I gave him a slap and immediately sent my eyes to the floor.

“Crazy, right?”  I turned around and headed towards the pot.  “Mm, splash of cream, one sugar?”

“Perfect.”  He unzipped his bag.  He brought out something and handed it to me.

“What’s this?”  I opened an old photograph.  Ryan had to be 18 years old.  He had an electric guitar in his hand.  He and a much younger Vince were throwing devil horns.  It was my new favorite picture in the world.

“Oh my God.  Can I scan this?”

“What do you mean?”  He looked confused.

“I mean, can I make a copy?  I would love to have one.”

“I brought this for you.”

“Oh.  Wow.”  My throat got tight.  “This is so nice.  I can’t believe that you would give this to me.”

“We’re friends, right?  That’s how we do.”  He curled his arm around my shoulders and gave me a tight squeeze.  He smelled like Irish Spring.  It was the soap that my dad always used.  “You smell like Irish Spring.”  God, that was stupid.

“Yep.  Keepin it old school.”  He stretched his arms, baring his stomach.  I noticed a tattoo I hadn’t seen before.

“Oooh, treasure trail ink!” I exclaimed.  “Is it a mermaid?”

“Worse.”  He laughed.

“Old English script that reads Get It Here, Ladies?”

“Not that much worse, but still pretty bad.”

“Come on, Vince.  Out with it.”  I poked him in the side and he clutched his shirt, pulling it down.  “You’re building it up too much.”

“God, this sucks.”  He pulled up his shirt and nudged his button of his jeans open.  He pulled them down just an inch.  It was a blue star about the size of a baseball.  Nothing fancy.  Just a blue star.

“What’s the big deal?  It’s a star.”

“Oh God, if you only knew the douchebaggery that goes with it.”  He paused.  “We were in the band and I thought we were going to hit it big.  We had a little air play on local radio and my head swelled up like a balloon.“

He ran his fingers through his hair.  It stood up on end.  Hilarious.  It was literally five inches tall.

He continued.  “Anyway, I figured that I would be the next fucking Bono, so I got this thing, you know, to signify some ridiculous rock dream.”  He let out a long groan.  “So stupid.”

I smiled.  “I think it’s cute.  And the good news is, you can always turn the star into a mermaid tail later.”

“Shut it.  I’m hungry.  Are you hungry?”

“I could eat, but I have to shower first.  I’m a skank.”

“You look beautiful.”  Was he kidding me?

“Ugh.  I’m fat.”  What the hell was wrong with me?  I regretted saying that the second it came out of my mouth.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Forget it.  I don’t know why I said that.”  I turned around, acting like I was looking for something.

“Rachel.  Turn around.”  I faced him.  “You are one of the cutest girls I’ve ever met.  Like ever.”

Cute?  Fuck.  The way that everyone described me.  Why couldn’t I be hot?  I mean, seriously?  For like one day.

“Thanks.”  I grabbed my keys.  “Let’s go.”

“What’s the matter?”  He looked frustrated.

“Nothing.”  I paused.  “Well, not that it isn’t a nice compliment, because it is.  Honestly.  But I hate being called cute.  It just seems so… eh.”  I shrugged my shoulders.

“Well, you are.  So get over it.”  He smiled.  He looked so good today.  He pulled a pair of matte black, plastic framed glasses on.  I had never seen him in them before.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Well, it’s probably because I don’t really wear glasses much.  Just to drive mainly.  So, let’s drive, lady.”

“Yes, let’s drive, lady,” I teased.

I knew I was supposed to be feeling sad.  I missed Ryan.  I did.  Absolutely.  But today was a good day.  Vince was here and I was feeling just… better.  I could feel myself healing.

*

Friday and Saturday flew by.  We went to Luna to shop for records, we ate and drank until our stomachs were sick, we lay on the couch and talked all day and night.  He even mowed my lawn for me and fixed my broken gate.  We retired each evening, not wanting to turn in.

Sunday morning.  I made coffee and we ate bagels in silence.  I could tell that we were both heavyhearted.  I knew it wasn’t just me.  We were becoming close friends.  It was easier to talk to him than to Carrie right now.  She knew everything about me.  This was just, I don’t know… lighter.

His bag was packed and sitting on my dining room table.  “Well, I guess I should go.”  He nodded and put on his glasses.  God, he’s so cute in those.

“Yeah.”

He came up and put his arms around me.  He leaned in close and nuzzled my neck.  I could feel his breath near my ear.  I pulled away.  Too soon.

“I’m sorry, Rachel.  I didn’t mean anything.  I’m just going to miss you.”  He quickly grabbed his bag and ran a nervous hand down the front of his shirt.  He scratched at his stomach, not making eye contact.  “When can I see you again?”

“I don’t know.  I mean, I’m busy with work and stuff, but maybe I can come to see you soon.”

“Yeah?”  His face lifted.  “Like when?”

“Um, I don’t know… like in a couple of weeks?”

“Well, what about the fourth of July?  That’s just three weeks away and we’re having a party.  Well, it’s kind of a party.  It’s like a neighbor barbecue thing or whatever, but it should be fun.  Jack will be there.  You should come.  Stay with us.”

He was talking way too fast.  Was he nervous?

“That sounds fun.  I’ll check my schedule and I’ll text you this week.”

“Please come.  Don’t let me being an almost dick make you change your mind.  Jack would love to see you.”

“Alright.  I’ll see what’s up.”

He gave me one tight, quick squeeze and exclaimed, “Fourth of July!”

I did a fist pump.  “Fourth of July!”  It came out strained.

He looked crushed.  He thought this was the last time we would see each other.  His eyes were easy to read, even behind his big, clunky glasses.

“Drive safe, Vince.  I’ll miss you.”

I’ll miss you?  What?  Go in the fucking house, Rachel.

His face got brighter.  “I’ll text you tonight.”

*

Three weeks flew by.  I received at least a few texts every day from Vince.

He also filled my Facebook account with private messages and pictures of himself out and about in town.  One in front of Shubas.  One in front of Alliance Bakery (you bastard!).  A few inside of his apartment.

He was showing me his life.  I couldn’t wait to visit.

I took off Friday after work and pulled up at his apartment just after 8.  He was sitting on the front stoop, smoking a cigarette.

“Capri?”

“Oh, God, I can’t believe you remembered my brand.”  I scoffed at him.

He tossed a Camel at me and I took a seat next to him on the steps.  I placed my bag at my feet.  He put his arm around me.  My head rested on his shoulder.

I heard the door slam behind us.  “Rayyy-chel!”  Jack wailed in a sing-song voice.

“Jack!”  I popped up and swung an arm around his waist.  He squeezed me and said “You.  Drink.  Now!”

Alright, I guess we were drinking.

I knew I should call Elsa.  Here I was, a few miles away.  I couldn’t explain Vince just yet… another time.

Vince grabbed my bag and brought it up the stairs.  His apartment was big for the city.  My old apartment in Bucktown was almost a thousand dollars a month and it was half the size.  I couldn’t imagine what he must be paying.  He gave me a quick tour.  Living room, kitchen, bathroom, his room, Jeremy’s room.  Jeremy was “the roommate.”

Jeremy was really tall.  And hot.  Like… crazy hot.  Shaved head, sleeves of tattoos.  Lean, muscular body.  I knew this because he wore next to nothing.  Just shorts.  No shirt, no shoes.  Just sitting on a couch, drinking a pint and basking in his hotness.

“Jeremy, this is my friend Rachel.”  Vince looked decidedly uncomfortable.

“Hey, friend Rachel.”  Oh my God, was he British?  Fuck.

“Hi,” I whispered back.  My voice automatically slipped into Kathleen Turner territory.  I knew that Vince picked up on it.

“Hey, Rachel… let’s go get coffee, yeah?”

“I just got here.”

“Yeah, she just got here.”  Yeah, definitely British.  Maybe we should go get coffee.  Or an ice bath.

“Alright, then do you want to go to the patio with me and Jack?  Catch up?”

“Sure.  I missed you guys.”  I did.  So much.

I glanced back at Jeremy on the couch.  He was staring a hole through me.  I don’t know if this was some sort of pissing contest, but I needed the discomfort to end.

*

Vince, Jack and I talked until almost three in the morning.  I missed this.  The last three weeks had been sort of lonely.

Jack got up and grabbed his keys.  “I’m out, brotha.”

“You’re leaving?”  I wasn’t sure I was ready to be alone with Vince just yet.

“Big day of drinking tomorrow.  I need my beauty sleep.”  He patted his flat belly with a thump.

“See you tomorrow.”  I got up and squeezed into his side.  He kissed me on the top of my head.  I noticed that he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring any longer, but I hadn’t asked about that.

Vince stood and pulled Jack into some sort of hug-slash-handshake and smacked him hard on the back.  “Tomorrow, little bro.”

After Jack left, I yawned and stood.  “Guess it’s time to hit it.  Where should I be?”

“You can just sleep with me.”  There was a long pause.  Smiling, he said, “Not like that, honey.  Who do you think I am?”

“I can just crash on the couch.  It’s not a big deal.”

“The bed is huge.  You won’t even know I’m there.  I don’t want you to sleep on that couch.  Lord knows what Jeremy has done on it.”  Ooof.  Lord knows.

I decided not to argue.  I was tired.  I grabbed my bag and headed to the bathroom.  “Towel?”

He threw one at me.  “And I got some of that soap you use.”

I smiled.  “Aw, I was looking forward to keepin it old school.  Irish Spring!”

“Well, there’s that too.”  He pulled some folded sheets from a laundry basket and started to make up our bed.  Our bed.  Gah.

After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I dug around in my bag for clothes to wear to bed.  Already, I was regretting my decision on what I had packed.  I had a white tank top and light pink cotton shorts.  They were short.  When I packed, they seemed the most unattractive choice of my sleepwear.  At home, Ryan liked me to wear lingerie.  He bought me tons of it.  Since I couldn’t wear that with Vince, I chose those stupid shorts.  I pulled at them, but that only made my midriff show.  Not to mention that my tank top did very little to hide my headlights.  Ugh.  I automatically crossed my arms over my chest.

Damn it, Rachel.  Make better choices next time!

I turned off the light and headed towards Vince’s room.  He was already in bed.  No shirt.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

I climbed in and faced the door.  “Goodnight.”

I felt his fingertips trace the tattoo on my back.  “Whoa, woman, why haven’t I seen this?”

It was a tree.  Thin, delicate branches spanned the width of my shoulder blades.  The trunk, heavy with roots, ended just under the band of my shorts.  It took four sessions.  Painful, but worth it.

“I don’t know.  I was wearing something that covered it last time, I guess.”

“Good God, how far down does this thing go?”  He pulled at my tank.

“Goodnight, Vince.”  I smiled towards the door, closing my eyes.

I heard him inwardly growl and click the light switch.  “Night, Punk Rock Girl.”

*

Vince took me everywhere on Saturday.  The building party was that night, so we shopped.  Food, alcohol, string lights.  We spent much of the day back and forth to the apartment.  We hung lights, we set out metal tubs, we talked and laughed.  A lot.

The night came too fast.  I wasn’t done being alone with Vince.  I knew that once his friends showed, he wouldn’t have as much time to spend with me.  It was 6 pm when the first guests arrived.

“I promise I won’t leave you.”

“It’s fine, Vince.  I’ll meet people.  And I already know Jack and Jeremy.”  That last part stung.  I could see his face visibly change when I mentioned his roommate.

“Well, I won’t leave you, so it’s a moot point.”

“You said moot.”  I smiled at him.

He started to make his way to the door after hearing the bell.  He gave me a soft swat on my backside as he walked past.

Oh. My. God.

Vince had a lot of friends.  Before long, the patio was filled with people and music.  I sipped a drink and tried to fit in.  I talked to Jack a bit, but he also knew most everyone, so it was difficult for me.  I was typically shy at these things.

I took a seat in a metal rocking chair near the gate.  I set my beer on the side table and fished in my pocket for a cigarette.  Jeremy came and sat next to me.

“Can I get one of those?”

“Yeah, sure.   I keep meaning to quit, but I just can’t.”  Oh God, I was blabbering.

“Eh, I only smoke when I drink.  So, I end up smoking a lot.”  That accent was going to kill me.

I smiled and handed him the lighter.

“So,” he continued, “I hear you lost your husband.  That sucks, right?”

“Right you are.”  I tried to lighten the mood with my flip comment.

“And that’s how you met these guys?”

“Yep.  They stayed and helped with stuff at my house for a few days after the funeral.”

“Well, that seems… generous.”  He paused.  What did that mean?  I ignored his remark.  It seemed cold; I was suddenly uncomfortable.

“Wanna do a shot?”

“Oh, no.  That’s okay.  I’m not very good with shots.”  I wasn’t lying.  I did two shots last year at our friend’s wedding and Ryan had to carry me into the house.

“Ah, come on, lady.  One shot.”  Jeremy started to reach for a bottle hidden in the planter next to us.  “Secret stash.”

Jagermeister.  Goddamn it.  My Kryptonite.

“One.  That’s it.”  I caved.

“Atta girl.”  He poured us two shots.  “What do we drink to?”

“Um, Fourth of July?”

Jeremy barked, “Ah, yeah!  Independence!” He tossed back the brown liquid.

I took mine and sipped it like a princess.

“No wonder you’re no good with shots.  You just gotta spike it.  Go on then!”

I “spiked” it and winced.

As soon as I put the glass down, I looked up.  Vince was at the next table.  His soft brown eyes were glued to mine.  I wanted to look away, but I didn’t.  I just stared back.  Finally, he came over.

“Hey, pretty.”  Yes, definitely a pissing contest.

Jeremy stood.  “Well, I’ll let you two have at it.  Later, lovely.”   Vince sat down in his now empty spot.

“Sorry to leave you.  I got all caught up with these people.  I’d rather be with you though.”  He laid his hand on top of mine and gave a gentle squeeze.  Just as soon, he pulled it away.

“That’s okay.  Jeremy kept me company.”

“Yeah, I saw that.  Shots, huh?”

“Just one shot.”  I blushed.

“Thought you didn’t do shots.”

“I don’t.  Well, normally I don’t.  But I guess it’s a party.”  I was making excuses.  I really hated shots.

“Then do one with me.”

“Aw, man.  I am not a shot girl.  I’ll be passed out in an hour and you’ll have to put me outside like a dog to sleep.”

“I won’t make you sleep outside.  I promise you that.”  He took a long pull off of his beer.  “Just one?”

I had to.  I couldn’t do one with Jeremy and not do one with Vince, right?

“One.”  I paused.  “I’m fucking serious.”

“Okay, you’re fucking serious.”  He smiled widely.

I picked up the thick syrup and put it to my lips.

“Wait, wait!  It’s bad luck if you don’t shoot to something.”

“Okay.  To World Peace.”

“Weak!”  He made a game-show buzzer sound.

“To gay marriage?”

“Better.  How about ‘to new friends.’”

“Yes, good one.”  I threw back the drink and squeezed my eyes shut.

Just then, Vince pulled me out of my chair.  “Let’s dance, mama.”

I grinned at the term of endearment.  Some of my other friends also called me that.

He pulled me in close and lazily spun me around.  It was more like a hug and a sway.  I put my head against his chest.  I could smell his soap.

“I feel a little dizzy, I think.  Shots.”  I staggered a bit.

“Whoa.  Come on, pumpkin.  Let’s get you some water.”

Vince took me through the kitchen, grabbed a bottle from the refrigerator and headed into his bedroom.  He shut the door behind me.

“Sit, lady.”  He handed me the bottle.  “Drink it.”

I cracked the cap and took a short swig.  “Go back to the party.  You don’t have to stay here with me.”

“I told you.  I want to stay here with you.”  He sat down on the side of the bed.  “Do you need to lie down?”

“Maybe for a minute.”

He repositioned himself on the bed so that he was lying down.  He put his arm out so that I could nestle into the crook.  I put my head on his chest and closed my eyes.  When I opened them, he was looking at me.  This was serious.  He was going to kiss me.  I could feel it.

Did I want him to?  Did I need him to?  He was my closest friend right now.  He was helping me… with everything.

He closed the gap between us and lightly brushed his lips to mine.  Seconds later, he pulled back.  “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”  I answered too quickly.

He leaned in again.  This time, his mouth opened slightly and he traced my bottom lip with his tongue.  His hands curled around my back, pulling me in tighter.

Oh. My. God.  Did I want this?

Everything in my body said (yes!).  But I was lonely.  He was my “Replacement Ryan.”

I couldn’t let him be that.  If I wanted him, I had to slow down.

“Wait,” I breathed.  He immediately stopped.

“Are you okay?  I’m sorry, Rachel.  I got carried away.”  He jackknifed up into a sitting position.  “It was too fast, right?”

I rubbed his back lightly.  “I like you.  Seriously.”  I paused to gather my thoughts.  “I just think it’s too soon.  I think about you all of the time, I do.  And I wanted you to kiss me.  But now that you have, I just feel fucking awful.”

He looked down at his hands and kneaded his fingers.

“Vince.  I didn’t mean it like that.  I feel bad because I wanted you to kiss me.  I mean, say that I was your wife and you died.  Would you want Ryan to kiss me?”

I could see it start to sink in.  “No, you’re right.  If you were mine, I wouldn’t want anyone else to touch you.”

“I know that he’s gone, but I don’t want to be some crazy slut that gets a new boyfriend after like five weeks, you know?  I mean, not that you’re my boyfriend or whatever…” I trailed off.

“I’ll wait.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll wait for you.  I mean, until you are ready.  So, we can stay friends, if you want… for now.  And when you’re ready, you can let me know.”

“You’re just gonna wait?”

“Yep.”  He traced his thumb casually along my cheek.  “You are special to me and I don’t want anyone else to have you.  So, I’ll wait.”  He looked out the window.  When he looked back at me, he said thoughtfully, “Just don’t make me wait forever, please.”

“I won’t.”  I leaned into him and placed a light kiss on his lips.  “I promise.”

He shuffled around in bed and kicked his shoes off.  He reclined back again and put his head on the pillow, staring at the ceiling.  “I haven’t gone and fucked it all up, right?  We’re still going to be friends?”

“Yes, silly.  I’d miss you too much.”

He rubbed my hand and laced our fingers together.

“You are literally killing me.  I’m ruined!”  He laughed aloud and put our clasped hands over his face.  “Fuckin’ hell, man!”

I laughed.  “Can you come to Indy in a few weeks?”

Why did I say that?

“Yes.”  He rolled over and pulled me in, my back now pressed against his front.  He wound his arm around my stomach and lightly rubbed.

God, I wish he wouldn’t rub me there.  I bet he dates supermodels.

“You’re tense,” he whispered.  “Don’t freak out.”

Was he reading my mind?

“This is about us.  It’s not about Ryan.  I know you loved him.  I’m not trying to bully my way in and take his place.”  He pulled me closer.  I reached behind and placed my hand on his hip, reassuring him that this wasn’t our end.

Chapter Four

Two weeks dragged by.  More phone calls this time, fewer texts.  I heard his voice almost every night.  I began to look forward to our conversations more and more, checking the clock.  He told me about the different bands he was working with, what food he ate, the video games he played with Jack.  The dialogue was simple.  Easy.  We flirted shamelessly.

That Friday couldn’t come fast enough.  I was supposed to meet Vince at my house at 5:30.  I didn’t have enough time to get ready at my place, so I brought some clothes and makeup to work.  At 5, I went to the bathroom and revamped my wardrobe.

I took off my stuffy black suit coat and sheath dress and replaced it with a white sleeveless pleated dress with a black Peter Pan collar and matching thin velvet belt.  I slipped on a pair of bright green ballet flats and a similar hued green pin for my hair.

I swiped a fresh coat of mascara on and painted my lips in a strawberry-flavored sheer pink gloss.  I walked back to my desk to grab my bag and close up for the weekend.

Just then, Lauren came out of her office.  “Hot bitch!  Where are you going?”

Oh God, I’ve been spotted.

Lauren was technically my boss, though she rarely acted that way.  I had moved up from a Designer to a Senior Architect under her tutelage.  She was my biggest cheerleader at the firm.  She, too, had moved up this year, to an Associate Director.

“My friend is coming in for the weekend and we have dinner plans.”

“Must be some friend.  I haven’t seen you this dolled up in a while.  Like a long time, now that I think about it.  Who is it?”

Do I tell her about Vince?  She wouldn’t understand.

“My friend, Vince.  He’s actually Ryan’s friend.  They went to Northwestern together.”  I gathered my things from my desk and shoved them in my huge satchel.

“I think it’s good you’re getting back out there.”  She smiled at me.

I groaned aloud.  “I’m not ‘getting back out there.’  I’m just hosting him for the weekend.  He’s in from Chicago.”

“Chicago?  Weren’t you just there a few weekends ago?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, he and his brother had a party for the Fourth.”

“Uh huh.”  A sly smile spread across her lips.  “The Fourth.”

“Shut up.”  I stuck my tongue out at her.  “Going home.”

“I know you are, girl.”

*

I pulled up in my driveway.  Vince was sitting on the bench next to the garden, flipping through his iPhone.  When he saw me, he shoved it in his pocket and gave me a short wave.

My heart immediately picked up speed.  What the fuck, Rachel?

He headed towards the car and grabbed my bag from the passenger seat.  “Wow.  You look crazy hot.”

“You do too.”  He really did.  He normally dressed in jeans and t-shirts.  Today, he wore a white fitted dress shirt with a skinny black tie and tight black pants.  They were both a little wrinkled from the drive, but he pulled it off seamlessly.  He looked incredible.

“I thought we might go downtown,” he said.  He walked around to my side and casually leaned in to kiss my cheek.

“Whatever you want.”

“Well, you look way too good to sit around here.  A waste of an impeccable dress.”

He placed his hand on the small of my back.  “You smell so good.”  He leaned in and put his lips to my neck.  I looked around slowly, checking for nosy neighbors.  I didn’t push him away though.

“I thought we could go to The Libertine, maybe?  I haven’t been there yet.”  My voice was a bit broken.

Still wrapped around me, he lifted his lips to my ear.  He traced his hand down the back of my dress.  He was getting bolder.

“Vince!  Focus up!”  He pulled back to look at my face, but his hands never left my back.

“I am focused.”  With that, he smiled.

“You’re not.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”  I squirmed and broke eye contact.

He held me tighter.  “You heard me.  I want to kiss you.  I’ve been thinking about it for the past two weeks.  So, let’s just get it out of the way now.  That way, you won’t be thinking about it all night.”  He smiled and rocked me in his arms.

“I won’t be thinking about it all night,” I lied.

“You’re thinking about it right now.”

“You said you would wait.  This doesn’t feel like waiting, Conti.”  I placed my hands on his chest and gave him a light push.

“I’m having a hard time waiting.”  He paused.  “Just kiss me.  That’s it.  I’m not asking to sleep with you or marry me.  Just one kiss.”

I dropped my arms to my sides.  “Fine, just do it!”  I mocked him, closing my eyes and puckering my lips.

He cupped the sides of my face and leaned in slowly.  His lips tasted like cherry Chap-Stick.  His breath tasted of mint gum.  The kiss started off innocently.    Soft, light, slow.  I carelessly parted my lips just a fraction as his shifted into a slant, his tongue pressing inside.

Instinctively, my arms found his back and I pulled him in tighter.  One of his hands drifted to the side of my neck.  The other dropped to my backside, giving a modest pull.  In my driveway, for crying out loud!  My dress hiked up an inch in back.  It was starting to feel like this was going somewhere.  We were going to end up in my bed if I didn’t stop.

“Hey,” I breathed.  “Maybe we should go.”

His breath was heavy.  He was stimulated.  Alert.  “Okay.”  Disappointed.

“Would you rather stay here?  I mean, we don’t have to go anywhere.”  Why did I say that?

He nodded.  “Yes.”  He gave me a quick kiss on the lips.  “Please.”

“We’re sitting on opposite sides of the room.”

He gave me a mega-watt smile.  “If we aren’t going to touch each other, we may as well go out.”

I didn’t trust myself.   Could I stay here with him?  Alone?  God, I wanted to.

I was conflicted all of the time lately.  I thought about Vince constantly.  Ugh.  This thing with him felt natural.  I could feel the hole that swallowed me just over seven weeks ago slowly closing.  Vince was responsible for that.  Could I deny what we were feeling?  Better yet, would I?

I didn’t feel like we were moving too fast.  To the outside world, I would look like a mega-slut.  I hadn’t slept with him, but wouldn’t I, if given the chance?

How would I explain this to my friends?  To my family?  To Ryan’s family?

Oh hey, guys, this is my new boyfriend.  You know, Ryan’s friend?

I was making too much of this.  I didn’t have to tell anyone.  I could hide Vince away and we could be weekend friends who made out.  I mean, would that work?  Eventually, he would want more.  Who was I kidding?  I would want more.

“Okay, patio.  Drinks.  I sit in the chair, you sit on the loveseat.”  I poked my finger into his stomach.  “I mean it.”

He put his hand to his chest.  “Cross my heart.”

Yeah, right.

“I wonder if I should change out of this dress.”  I don’t know why I said that out loud.

“No,” he said quickly.  “You got all dressed up for me.  Keep it on.”

I wasn’t going to make it ten more minutes.  I wanted a million things from him.

I went inside and grabbed two beers from the refrigerator.  I slipped the flats off of my feet and fumbled around in the silverware drawer, trying to find a bottle opener.  I felt his hand before I saw him.  He slipped it around my waist and pressed up against my back, leaning his head down to my ear.  He spoke in a whisper.  “God, you look so fucking good in that dress.”

Fuck it.

I shut the drawer and turned to face him, clutching on to the front of his shirt, gently pulling on his tie.  I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my mouth to his.  His hands dropped to the curve of my backside.  He gave me a slow squeeze.

Oh. My. God.

I broke the kiss for a second.  “Are you sure you don’t want to go out?”

He gave me my answer my lifting me onto the counter and pulling me towards him roughly.  Our mouths were inches apart.  My legs parted.  I could feel his erection.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

My chest literally felt like it was bursting.

“Tell me to stop, Rachel.  Now is the time.  If you don’t want me, tell me now.”

I could feel tears welling in the back of my eyes.  Was I betraying Ryan?

“I do want you.”  What is wrong with me?  “But we have to slow down.  I’m not going to drop my panties in the kitchen.”  I put my hands on his chest and pushed lightly.  “Can’t we just have a beer and sit outside for a while?  I’ll tell you what… you can even sit on the loveseat with me.”  I gave him my biggest grin.

“Oooh, the loveseat.  Color me excited.”

Feeling bold, I pulled him closer, gently rubbing over the material of his trousers.  “I noticed.”

“Good God, woman.  If you want me to go outside, you’re gonna have to stop touching my junk.”  He leaned in and gave me a short, wet kiss.  He lifted me off of the counter and placed me back on solid ground.

*

We sat outside, listening to music and talking.  We held hands.  He rubbed my fingers lightly and kissed me often.  Around 10, it started to drizzle, so we packed up.

I made up the spare bedroom for Vince.  Was he supposed to sleep in it?

When I went to his place, I slept in his bed all weekend.  Even if nothing had happened, it still felt strange to sleep apart.  I placed his bag on the spare bed anyway.  I didn’t want to assume anything.

I went to the bathroom to change.  I hung my dress and put on a black nightie with a white bow at the front.  It was the longest one I owned, just hitting above the knee.  It dipped low in the back though.  There was nothing I could do about that now.  I pinned my bangs back and washed my face.  I rubbed lotion into my legs and arms and stared at my reflection in the mirror for far too long.

Okay.  Go, Rachel.

When I stepped into my bedroom, Vince was there, unpacking his bag.

“You put my bag in there.”  He pointed to the other bedroom.  “Why?”

I shrugged.

“Do you not want me in here?”

“I do.”  I paused.  “I just wasn’t sure.”

He closed the gap between us.  “I want to be in here with you.  I don’t want to sleep in there.”

I turned towards the dresser.  He came up behind me and placed his hands lightly on my shoulders.  He dipped down and traced the outline of my tattoo with his tongue, pressing feather light kisses on my back as he went.

Jesus Christ.

“Come to bed, Rachel.  Don’t over think this.”

I turned towards him and pressed into his chest.  I could hear his heartbeat.  I broke the embrace and climbed into my side of the bed.

He continued to take things out of his bag and made small talk.  He shrugged out of his shirt.  He was thin, but strong looking.  I wondered if he worked out.  He never said; I never asked.

When he started to unbutton his pants, I looked down nervously and began pushing at my cuticles.

“Don’t get shy, lady.”  He grinned and folded his pants.  Thankfully, he was wearing underwear.

He grabbed a pair of drawstring pants from his bag and strolled into the bathroom.  He closed the door behind him.

Oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord.  Were we going to do this?

Not tonight.

Not tonight.

Not tonight.

I knew I had to stand my ground.  We could kiss.  That’s it.  I may even let him get to second base.  I had to put down limits.

He walked out of the bathroom and threw something in his bag.  His underwear?

Fuck.

He slid into bed next to me.  I turned to the center of the bed, facing him.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this, Vince.”

“What?  Bed?”  He was smiling.

“You know what.  This.”  I gestured between us.

“Alright.  Whatever you want.  I’m not going to push you.”

I put my hand on his hip and leaned in to kiss him.  He angled towards me and put his arm around my waist, pulling me closer.

I pressed my lips to his and parted them.  The kiss deepened.  He put his hand on my backside and pushed in, our hips adjoining.

I was seriously close to losing this battle.

He pulled up on the hem of my nightie.  His hand trailed up my back.  I moved my hand to his hip.  He rolled me to my back and moved his hand to my waist, just skimming the elastic of my underwear.  His finger lifted the lip of satin.

“No.”  I sat up.  “I want to, but...”

“You can’t.”  He pulled away from me and shifted the covers, straightening them.  “It’s fine, Rachel, really.  I understand.”  He turned the light off on the nightstand.  “Goodnight, mama.”  He kissed me one last time before he turned and faced the wall.

I lie awake, staring at his back for what seemed like hours.  His skin was smooth and ivory with tiny freckles throughout.  It took everything I had not to trace them with my fingertips.  My eyes were growing heavy and, eventually, I drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Five

I woke to Vince’s lips on my back.  His hand was on the outside of my thigh, moving up gently.  He whispered in my ear.  “Good morning.”

He pulled gently at the elastic on my underwear and slid two fingers into the material.  I turned to face him.  His eyes were steady, questioning.  I put my hands to his waist and tugged at his drawstring.

He leaned in and brushed his lips against mine.  Just once.  He slid down the side of my neck and laid soft, wet kisses there.

Oh my God, we were really doing this.

His hand continued to tug bit by bit at the band of satin.  I lifted my hip off of the bed, helping.  He pulled harder and the fabric slid down my legs easily.  I kicked them to the floor.

Oh yeah, we were doing this.

He brushed his hand across my breast.  My breath caught.  He leaned in and put his lips to the material, his left hand moving to the hem of my gown.  He lifted it up as I raised my arms.  It joined my underwear on the side of the bed.

I placed my right hand just inside of the band of his pants.  The skin on his hip was warm and soft.  He turned briefly onto his back and pulled them off in one quick movement.

Oh. My. God. He. Is. Huge. Never. Gonna. Fit.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me on top of him.  I was insecure.  I felt like, from this angle, all of my fat was on display.  He traced the small, red heart on my hip.  “Another tattoo?  Fuck.”

He flipped me onto my back and lowered his head to my ink, running his tongue over it.

Is internal combustion real?

He shifted me to the middle of the bed.  His left arm was wound tightly around my back.  His right hand moved between my legs.  He pushed one finger inside.  I bowed my back.  “Oh, God.”  He added another finger.

“You’re so wet.”

Holy shit!  Did he just say that?

He supported himself on his elbow and looked at me.  Playful Vince was gone.  His fingers still stirred inside of me, but the pace was now slow and easy.  “Are you sure about this?  Tell me now.  We can stop anytime.”

“Yes.”  I meant it.

“Do you have condoms?”

“Nightstand.”

Oh God, Ryan’s condoms.  Ryan’s nightstand.

No, Rachel.  You WILL NOT RUIN THIS.

He released me and dug in the drawer, producing a three pack.  He pulled one from the perforated set and made quick work of sliding it on.  He turned back to me and slid his hands up my sides.

“Last chance...”

“I’m ready.”  I was.

He situated his body on top of mine.  “Is this alright?”  He was worried about me.  His face was filled with questions.

“Yes, Vince.  For Christ’s sake, put it in!”  I tried to lighten the mood.  It worked.

He slowly pushed inside of me, taking his time.  Oh God, oh God.   He focused on me.  He touched my face, kissed my neck.  He put his hands, not as gently this time, on my breasts.  He whispered in my ear.

Normally, I wasn’t a big fan of the breezy talk during sex, but Vince made it an art.

God, you feel amazing.

You’re so fucking hot.

I could stay inside of you forever.

I’ve wanted you for so long.

He turned me over so that I was on top of him.  Not this again.   Would it be weird if I put my gown back on?

“I want to look at you.  I want to see you come.”

Jesus Christ.  Ryan never talked to me this way.

Stop thinking about Ryan.

I moved against him.  God, he felt good.  He was experienced.  He made me feel sexy.  Wanted.  Needed.  I needed this.

He brushed his thumb against my clitoris.  I came.  Just like that.  No warning.  It just happened.  Worst part?  I screamed.  Yep, like I was the victim in a horror movie.

Second worst part?  Vince liked it.  Like a lot.  Within seconds, he released inside of me, calling out my name.

I was mortified.  There’s no way that Vince had ever been with a girl that screamed.  Not like that.  Screams of passion were acceptable.  Just fucking screaming?  Unacceptable.  And probably weird.

He rolled me onto my back.  “Jesus, woman.  You almost killed me.”  He laughed and covered his face with his hands.

“I’m sorry.  I was just surprised, I guess.”  It was official.  I was an idiot.

“Are you fucking kidding me?  What are you sorry about?  I don’t think I’ve ever had that reaction before.”

Yep, just as I suspected.  Unacceptable and weird.

I sat up and fumbled around for my gown.  Vince wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back in.  “Are you embarrassed?”

“That’s never happened to me before.”

“Yeah, I guessed.”  He laughed.  “Don’t be embarrassed.  Seriously.  If we do that again and you don’t scream, I’m going to be disappointed.”

He sat up and pulled off the condom, wrapping it in a tissue and tossing it into the bin on the side of the bed.  He reached for his drawstring pants, tugging them on.

He swatted me on the backside.  “Coffee, woman.  Let’s go.”

“Meet you in a minute.”  I hurried into the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror for a few seconds.  I was flushed, my cheeks still hot with humiliation.

I could feel tears coming.  I was guilty.  I had just slept with a man that was not my husband.

*

I joined Vince in the kitchen a few minutes later.  He was sitting at the table, his elbows propped up.  He was drinking out of a cup that read “Flirty at 30.”  Carrie bought it for me that year for my birthday.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” I responded.  I busied myself.  Picked out the right sized cup, opened and closed doors; anything to avoid him.

He walked up behind me, dropping his chin to my shoulder.  “You okay?”

“Yeah.”  I turned around and gave him a shaky smile.

“Hey.”  He took my chin and tipped it up, forced to connect.  “Have you been crying?”

“I’m fine.”

“I didn’t ask if you were fine.  I asked if you’d been crying.”

I shrugged my shoulders.  “I’m just having a bad day.”

“A bad day?  We just woke up and made love.  We’ve done nothing else.”  He paused.  “So you’re telling me that you regret being together?”  He looked confused.

I couldn’t answer.  I wasn’t sure.

“We fucked and used my husband’s condoms,” I blurted.

“Are you serious?  First of all, don’t say that we fucked.  You know that’s not what that was.  And I’ll go buy my own fucking condoms.  That’s a ridiculous reason to be crying.  It’s something else.”  His tone was terse.

I poured my coffee and walked past him, taking a seat on the couch.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No.”  Please don’t go.  I’m just freaking out.

“Then talk to me.  What’s the real problem?”  He slid in next to me.  Too close.  He fiddled with a piece of my hair.

“I’m just being a weirdo.  I just haven’t been with anyone else really, so…”

“Well, I assumed so.  I met you a day before the funeral, so I figured it was a safe bet.”  He smiled and brushed his thumb across my eyebrow.

“No, I mean like besides Ryan, I’ve only been with one other guy before him.  So, I guess I freaked out a little bit.  It felt like I was cheating.”

“Alright.”  He encircled me with his arms and pulled me tight.  “I got it.”

I broke from his grasp and stood.  “I’m going to take a shower, I think.”

“Rachel.”

I turned.

“I talked to a guy about a job here.”

My body froze.  “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve just been looking in the last week.  A really good opportunity came up.  It’s at a studio downtown.  The pay isn’t that different than what I make in Chicago and the rent would be cheaper here.  I’m not looking to move in with you.”  He chose his words carefully.  “I just want to be near you.  I love you.”

My voice was coarse.  “You don’t love me.”

He stood.  “Yes… I do.”  His face was genuine.

I turned and headed up the stairs.  I couldn’t manage this.  I didn’t want to.

*

I turned on the shower.  I needed distance.  Time.

He loved me?  Was he insane?

I wanted the water to wash my guilt away.  It wasn’t working.

When I made my way back into the bedroom, Vince was there.  He was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Baby, please, talk to me.”

I turned to the dresser and picked out a lingerie set.  “I don’t have anything to say.”  I turned on my heel to face him.  “No, actually, that’s not true.  Why are you doing this?  Why do you want to move here?  Why did you say you loved me?”

“Because I do love you!  I can’t fucking think about anything else.  I spend my entire week waiting.  Every day, all day, I wait.  I can’t get anything done.  I don’t want to live in that apartment with that fucking asshole.  I want to live here.  With you.”  His voice softened at the end of his rant.

He rose to his feet and placed his left hand behind my neck, his right on my lower back.  He pressed his lips against mine.  It was gentle, slow.  After a few seconds, his lips became rougher, more desperate.  I felt his tongue, his teeth, everything.

He pulled at my towel.  It pooled to the floor.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.  Seriously?

I practically climbed him.  He turned me around towards the bed and gently deposited me in the center.  He pulled his t-shirt over his head in one accelerated movement and tugged at his loose pants, yanking them down.

He was perfect.

He climbed into the bed, sliding on top of me.  He cupped my face with his hands.  “I love you.”

I turned my face away, tears building fast.  My lip was starting to tremble.  “Stop saying that.”

“I do.  And you love me.”

I shook my head.  “I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”  He smiled at me, reaching into the nightstand, tearing back the foil on a condom.  He eased his hand between the two of us.

Just one last time.  You can do this, Rachel.  You can do this and then tell him to leave.  You don’t love him.  Do you?

His lips trailed up my neck and stopped at my ear.

“Are you ready?”

I breathed in and out carefully.  “Yes.”

With that, he pushed inside of me.  I groaned, arching my back.  I could feel the pressure building up in my body already.  We were together only an hour ago!  God, I was a slut.

His hands curved around my backside, pushing deeper.  Faster.  Faster.  Faster.

I panted.  These weird sounds started spewing out of my mouth.  I was embarrassing myself again!

“Oh God, yes!”  Kill me now.

“Are you close?”  He breathed in my ear.

“Yes.”  I let out this bizarre “Oh!” sound.

“Wait for me.”

Wait, what?  My head was ready to pop off.  Should I ask him approximately how long I should wait?  I didn’t think I was going to last another five seconds.

“I’m close,” he breathed.  Thank God.

Three seconds later, I blacked out.  Maybe not exactly, but it was similar to the feeling of giving blood.  I may need a juice box and a cookie.

Vince lay on top of me, comatose, breathing heavy.  I ran my fingers through his hair and rested my hands on the back of his neck.

“I need you,” he whispered.  His sentiment was thick with worry.  He knew I wanted to let him go.

I stayed silent.  I shifted a little and he pulled out of me slowly.  I pushed on his chest lightly and shuffled out of bed, pulling on a fresh pair of light pink lace underwear and a matching demi bra.

“You are so beautiful.”

“Please, Vince.  Don’t.”

“What?  Don’t tell you that you’re beautiful?  That I need you?  That I love you?  I can’t.”

I shuffled through the clothes in my closet, deciding what to wear, my back turned to him.  I chose a white sleeveless A-lined dress with a yellow apple print.  It came just above my knee.   I pulled it over my head and started a slow struggle with the zipper in the back.

“I love the way you dress.”  He zipped me up and placed his hands on my shoulders.  “Let’s go out.  I want to spend the day with you… in that dress.”

*

We went to a brunch place near my office.  I had been there a few times, but always with Ryan.  Vince tried to hold my hands across the table.  I couldn’t.  I placed them in my lap.

What if someone that I knew was here?  What if Ryan’s mom showed up?  Did the waitress recognize me?  Surely, she would know I was unfaithful.

It was irrational, I knew.  I still couldn’t help it.

“Hey.”  His face was soft.

Oh God, he did love me.  I needed to deal with this fast.

“Just don’t.  I can’t touch you here.  We’re a block from my office.  I lost my husband less than two months ago.  Just… stop.”

I was such a bitch.  Why was I being like this?

We ate our food.  The noises from the restaurant were deafening through our silence.  When the waitress brought our check, Vince handed her his card; she walked away.  He grabbed my silver metal chair and scraped it across the ground until it touched his.  Our faces were inches apart.  He leaned in and brushed his lips against mine.  A soft, wet kiss.  In front of everyone!  He pushed my chair back just as the waitress walked back up with the receipt.

“Thank you,” he told her, his eyes never leaving my face.

Chapter Six

I wanted him to pack his bags.  Go home early.  Never come back.  Didn’t I?

He was taking his time.  Flipping channels.  Feet up on my coffee table.  Thumbing through my magazines.  He wasn’t going anywhere.

He was supposed to leave tomorrow, but I thought that he would be ready to pack up after the way I treated him all afternoon.  When we went to the canal, he tried to hold my hand.  I pulled away.  When he leaned down to kiss my face outside of the car, I dodged him and fumbled around in my handbag.  I was cold.  Frigid.

He patted the couch.  “Come.  Sit with me.  I want to talk to you.”

Here we go.

“I want to take that job.  Bob called me back today and said it’s mine if I want it.”

“I can’t tell you to take the job or not.  You should make your own decisions.”  I was being unpleasant.

“Do you want me here with you?”

“Vin, don’t move here for me.  If you want that job, that’s your business.  I don’t want you to leave your life because you think that we’re going to run off into the sunset together.”

Ouch.

“If I move here, can I see you?”  His eyes were pleading with me.

“Of course we can see each other.  But what happened here today… that can’t happen again.”

He leaned into me.  “Rachel...”  He brushed his finger across my bottom lip.

I pulled back.  “I mean it.  I don’t regret it and I can’t take it back, but I need time.  I told you I needed time before, but you pushed me.”

His face snapped back like I had slapped him.  “I pushed you?”

“You know what I mean.  I don’t mean physically, you know that.  I just mean that I wasn’t ready and I told you that.  Then this morning, you just took what you wanted.”

“Took what I wanted?  Fuck you, Rachel.  You wanted me too.”  He stood, angry.  Confused.  I didn’t blame him.  I did want him.  He knew I was hitting below the belt.

“You’re right.  I wanted you.”  It came out like a whisper.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean what I said.  I just think we need to slow down.  Like way down.”

He sat back down and placed my hands in his.  He lazily rubbed the insides of my palms with his thumbs.  “Help me find a place?”

“Here?”

He beamed.  “Yes, here.  I can’t commute from Chicago to my new job.”

My heart was beating out of my chest.  Was he really going to move here?

“So you already took the job then?”

“I start next Monday.  I have a week to find something.”

“You can stay here until you find a decent place.  Don’t move into the first one you see.”

What was I talking about?

“Yeah?  Okay.  I’ve started to look, but I don’t really know the city, so I need your help.”  He looked excited.  “And just so you know, I’m only signing a six month lease, wherever I end up.”

“That’s going to be harder.  Most places won’t let you sign for less than a year.”

“Well, then I’ll sublet.”

“Why only six months?”  My heart dropped in my chest.  Did he want to move back to Chicago?  Was this just a temporary situation?

“Rachel.”  He paused.  “I want to be with you.  I know you need space.  I’m going to give you that.  But I need you to know that I’m not giving up.”  He squeezed my hand.  “I know where I want to live long term.  With you.”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“I know you’re scared and you think everyone is going to judge you.  If they do, fuck them.  Seriously.  They don’t know me and they might not understand this.  But if they love you, they’re not gonna care.  And speaking of that, I haven’t met any of your friends.  We should have people over tonight.”

“Vince…”

“I’m not going to put my arm around you or kiss you in front of them.  I just want to meet them and I want them to meet me.  Then, later on, when we tell them that we’re together, it won’t be weird.”

*

An impromptu cookout.  After twenty or so phone calls, I was shocked at the number of people who wanted to come last minute.  Honestly, I hoped that they would all be busy and it would just be Vince and me.  No such luck.

Tonight, I was introducing Vince to my world.  Ugh.

I ended up wearing a short, white and navy bold striped fit-and-flare dress with a thin, red belt.  Vince picked it out.  He was right.  It was a good choice.  I went barefoot and painted my toenails red before my guests arrived.

He wore a white fitted t-shirt and tight red jeans with black Chuck Taylors.  When we had a minute alone, I whispered, “You look like Jack White.”  I blushed.

“You like that?”  His arm snaked around my back and pulled me close.  He leaned in at my ear and whispered, “When all of these people go home, I’m going to fuck you in that dress.”

“Mister Conti!” I hissed.  I acted upset.  When I turned from him, a slow smirk spread across my lips.

As expected, everyone loved Vince.  He fit in.  He was an easy man to like.  Every once in a while, I caught him looking at me.  Staring.  Focused.  Did anyone else notice?

I introduced him to everyone as my “friend from Chicago.”  I could feel his disappointment, but I couldn’t give him us.  Not yet.

Lauren pulled me aside.  “Girl, is it me or are you two gettin the business?”  Her eyes were wide.  How did she know?

“No!” I lied.  I had to.

She cocked an eyebrow at me.  “If you haven’t, you’re gonna.  That boy wants to take a ride on the fuck train.”

“What’s wrong with you?  I mean, honestly.”

She mimicked a humping gesture.  I stared at her and shook my head.  Everyone needed to go home.  Enough with the questions.

The night grew on and eventually, it was just Vince and me.

He helped me with dishes, he cleaned up the patio, he emptied ashtrays and recycled the gazillion beer bottles that filled every empty space.

When the last bag of trash was tied, he looked up at me.  “Thank you… for tonight.”

“It was fun, right?”  I pressed the button to start the dishwasher.

“I love you like crazy.”

Oh God, there it was again.  Why couldn’t he let it go?

“Vince…”

“You don’t have to say it back.  I just need you to know that I am fucking nuts about you.  I would marry you tomorrow.”

Marry me?

“Stop.”  I could feel tears pricking.  Why did I start to cry whenever he voiced his emotions?

“I can’t.  I won’t.  I’m gonna tell you every day until you feel the same way.  When that day comes, I’m moving in here.”  He grinned.  End of story.  That was just happening.  No conversation, no decisions, just moving in.

*

“I’m going to get ready for bed.”  I started up the stairs.

Vince followed.

“You have to sleep in the spare room.  I’ve decided.”

“Oh, you’ve decided?”  He laughed aloud.

“Seriously!”  God, he was annoying.

“I am being serious.  I’m not sleeping in that other room, Rachel.  I’d start off in there and end up in yours anyway, so quit being a pain in the ass.  Scoot your boot.”  He smacked me on the backside.

I growled audibly, like a five year-old having the start of a tantrum.

“Don’t take that dress off.”

What?

When we reached my bedroom, Vince pinned me against the wall near the closet.  He pressed his lips to mine with need.  He reached under my dress and ripped my underwear.  Right off!

“Vince!  Those were good underwear!”

He pressed his lips back to my neck.  “I’ll buy you new ones.  Just kiss me, woman,” he teased.

He lifted me off of the ground and my legs wrapped around his backside with a natural ease.  Oh my God, oh my God.  He hiked up my dress and pressed me against the wall, wrestling with the button on his jeans.  He pulled a condom out of his right pocket.  That little shit.  He had this planned!  Placing the packet between his teeth, he shifted me into a more comfortable position.  Our eyes locked.

I probably should have been upset.  Instead, I lowered my hands to his waist helping unzip him the rest of the way.  I took the package from his mouth and tore it open.  It was a weird angle, but I successfully eased it on.  He lifted me up once again and lowered me onto him with one fast lunge.

“Oh God.”  I threw my head back.  I cracked it against the wall.  “Ow!”

Immediately, he started to rub my head.  “Aw, sweetie… are you okay?”  He laughed at me.

“This better be worth it.”

“Oh, it will be.”  He ground his hips into mine and pushed harder.  He cupped my backside.  I could feel his fingernails digging into my skin.

His mouth was hot on mine, his tongue pushing inside.  He was more aggressive tonight; his usual naughty talk was a little rougher.  Bolder.  Raunchier.

You feel so fucking good.

I can’t wait to taste you.

You like that?

I could feel the pressure mounting.  Surely, I was going to embarrass myself in some way.  I stared up at the ceiling and tried to focus on not seeming like a crazy person.  But, as I suspected, it was happening anyway.  “Yes, yes, yes, yes!”

Shut your mouth, Rachel!

“Fuck.”  He ground his hips one last time before going still.  He kissed me, soft and wet, before gently lifting me up and setting me on the ground.  He pulled off the condom and headed into the bathroom.

He was becoming some sort of drug for me.  I needed him to leave tomorrow morning so that I could get some distance.  Perspective.

But in one week, he would be living here.  Waiting.  For me.

*

In the morning, I woke to find Vince’s arm wound tightly around my waist.  I could smell him.  He was becoming so familiar.  His touches, his kisses, his voice.

“Good morning, pumpkin.”  He tugged me tighter, my back to his front.  God, he felt good.

“Hi.”  I snuggled back into him.

“I wish I could stay today.”

He had to go.

“I can if you want.  I don’t have to be to work until 8 tomorrow.  Besides, it’s my last week.  I could be a little late tomorrow morning and stay again tonight.”

“No, you should go.”

Vince sat up.  “You want me to go?”

“I just mean that you have a lot of stuff to do this week.  Packing, for one.”

“I can pack anytime I want.  I’m thinking about hiring movers anyway.  I hate that shit.”  He nuzzled my ear with the tip of his nose.  “I want to spend every second with you today… in… this… bed.”

“No, sir.  I have to be a productive citizen.”  I got up and started to gather laundry, lifting my hamper and heading downstairs.  “Need coffee.”

He followed me down.  “I’ll help.”

“Vince, it’s laundry.  I don’t need help.”

“Fine.”  He turned on his laptop.  “Then I’ll look for a place this morning.”

I put a load of whites in and pulled up a chair next to him at the dining room table.  We flipped through apartment after apartment.  He wanted to be close to me, so we tried to keep our search to the Village area.  We found a one bedroom bungalow a block south of my favorite pub.  Vince called on it and we were able to make an appointment for a viewing that afternoon.

Since the weather was being agreeable, I decided to go to my garden.  I put on my rubber boots and my canvas gloves.  I took my hedge shear and trowel and headed outside for a little alone time until we met with the rental agent.

I pulled a few weeds, but then just ended up sitting in the dirt, smoking a cigarette that I had hidden in the coffee can.  I was thinking about, well, everything.  Vince was moving here.  This was official.  If he didn’t like this place, he would just pick another.  This was happening.  Was I ready?

*

The house was nice.  It was spacious enough and had hardwood floors throughout.  A lot of light.  A little fence.  Vince seemed to like it enough.  “What do you think, babe?”

“It’s nice.”  It wasn’t my house.

“Yeah?  I don’t want to move anywhere that you don’t like.”

“I don’t have to live here.”

“But I assume you’ll be coming over, right?”

“Yeah.”  I paused.  “No, it’s fine.”

He walked me away from the agent.  “What’s going on with you?  Do you not like it?”

“I said it’s fine.”

“Bullshit.  What’s the matter?”

I wish you would live with me.

“I like it, actually.  Nice light.  Flowers.”

“You are so full of it.  Out with it, Stephens.”

“Honestly...”  I rubbed his arm.  “It’s great.”

“It would be better if I lived with you.  Are you sure about this?  We could say fuck all and just move in together.”  He was whispering now.

Could we?

“No, this is good.  It’s nice and really close to my house.”

He turned back to the agent.  “My girlfriend likes it.”  I rolled my eyes.  Seriously?  “I’ll take it.”

Chapter Seven

When we got back to my place, Vince was quiet.  He packed his bag of toiletries.  “Do you think I could just leave my clothes here?  Less stuff to pack.”

The rental wouldn’t be ready for another three weeks.  We would be living together in my place for two of them.  I knew that it was a possibility that he would have to live with me for a while, but I was nervous.

A lot could happen in two weeks.  I had to make myself less available.  Go out with friends.  Work overtime.  I didn’t want to seem like I needed him.

“It’s fine.  I’ll wash them and put them in your closet.”

“Ooh, I get my own closet?”

“Yeah, in the spare room.”

He stared at me.  “Seriously?”

“I can’t just play house with you for two weeks.  I told you that we will work on this.”  I began to fold some towels.  “I just can’t sleep with you.  When I do, I lose focus.”

“You’re cute.”

I put down the towel and faced him.  I lowered my voice.  “Please, Vince, listen to me.  I know you think I’m being funny, but honestly, I’m not.  I mean this.  I need for you to sleep over there.”  I pointed at the other bedroom.  “Just while you are living here.  Let’s just see what happens.  Can you not try to sleep with me for two weeks?”  I was being petulant.

“Yes.  I will sleep over there.  I will behave.  I’m not going hide my feelings from you though.  I’m not that guy.”

“Can you at least be that guy in front of my friends?  I don’t want them to worry about me.”

“Yep.  I can be whatever you want… but only for a while, Rachel.”

*

Five days was an eternity.  An actual eternity.  Besides a few text messages, Vince and I had not communicated for the most part.  He kept his distance.  He gave me space.  I missed him more.

Today was his last day in Chicago.  He would be here within the hour.  Apart from one suitcase, his apartment was being packed up and transported by a moving company on the first day of his lease.

This was the start of our two weeks together.  In my house.  I was manic.  I cleaned for two days.  I bought new sheets for his bed.  I vacuumed the curtains.  Who vacuums the curtains?

I was a mess.

He pulled up a little after 9, letting himself in with the key I had given him the weekend before.

“Rachel!”

“Hey.”  I breezed down the stairs, trying to act nonchalant.  I was failing miserably.

He practically ran to me.  Like ran.  He squeezed me tight, burying his face in my neck.  “God, I missed you.  I wanted to call you a hundred times.”

I patted him on the back twice, trying to keep it casual.  “Me too.”  Ugh, a little too casual.  I may as well have said “you find the place alright?”

“We have the whole weekend to hang out.  Bob doesn’t need me in until Monday, so… what should we do?”

“Actually, Carrie and I are going to Lauren’s for a party.”

“Oh.”  He looked crushed.  “What time?”

“She should be here any minute.  I would ask you to go, but it’s just girls.”

“A party with just girls?”

“It’s one of those stupid Love Passion parties.  You know, with the edible underwear and all that crap.”

A smile crept up his face.  “Huh.  Okay.”  He leaned in and whispered, “Red is my favorite color.”

The doorbell rang.  Fuck.

He walked to the refrigerator.  “Mind if I take a beer?”

I shook my head and opened the door to Carrie.  “You ready to get your slut on?”  She looked over at Vince.  “Heyyyy… didn’t see you there.  She’s not really a slut, Vince.”

He popped the bottle open.  “Go get your slut on, girls.”

I groaned.

Carrie headed for the door.  “See ya, Vinnie.”

“Bye, Miss Carrie.”

I turned to him.  “Bye.”

“Be careful.  Come home soon.”

I closed the door.

“Be careful?  Come home soon?  You are seriously fucking that guy, right?”  Carrie reached in her giant bag for her keys.  “He totally wants in your lady parts.”

“Get in the car, Carrie.”

She made a crude gesture with her hands.

Seriously, where did I find my friends?

She sat in the front seat and studied me.  “For real, though.  What’s going on with you guys?”

“I don’t know.  It’s all a mess.”  I looked out the window.

“He moved here for you.  Something is up.”

“He didn’t move here for me.  He got a job here.”

“Uh huh.”

“I mean it… just stop.  I feel bad enough as it is.”

“Why?  Because of Ryan?”  She leaned in.  “Honey, no one knows what you need more than you do.  If you need Vince, fuckin’ do that.  Seriously, fuckin’ do that.”  Another crude gesture.

I paused.  “I already did that.”  I paused again.  “Three times.”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.  Please tell me you are kidding me right now.”  She was way too excited.

“I swear to God, if you tell anyone, I will end you.”  I poked a finger towards her.  “I mean it… seriously.”

“Fine.  Seriously, I know it’s sick, but I want details.  At the party, in those red pants, he looked all man.  I wasn’t trying to look, but come on.”

“Really?”

“Kidding!  But really, did you…?” she trailed off and made a vulgar choking gesture while she attempted to deep-throat her own hand.

“I’m going back in.”  I made for the door handle.

“Okay, okay.  No more.”  She grinned and started the car.  “You did blow him though, right?”

*

I made it home a little after 1:00 am, lightly buzzed on pina coladas.  My lips still mildly stung from the cherry flavored nipple gel.  Seriously, the hostess made us put it on like lip gloss.

To get the whole experience!

I crept up the stairs, trying to keep as quiet as I could.  The light was on my bedroom.   “Vince?”

He was curled up on Ryan’s side of the bed, clutching an open book, snoring lightly.  I kicked off one of my heels, accidentally sending it flying into the wall.  Shit!  I tried to steady myself and lightly took off the other one, placing it on the floor of my closet.  I pulled my dress over my head and hung it on a velvet hanger.

I brushed my teeth and ran a quick makeup remover wipe over my face.

Opening my lingerie drawer, I selected a red, sheer baby doll nightie.  It had a matching thong.  Eh, what the hell.  I pulled back the covers and crawled in next to Vince.  I pulled the book out of his hands and placed it on my bedside table, clicking off the light.

Sometime in the middle of the night, he woke up.  “What do we have here?”

I was half asleep.  “Hey…”

“Red?  You buy this at the party?”  He fingered the material of my gown.

“No, I had this.”

“It’s nice.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, turning towards him.

“Sorry.  I fell asleep in here.  I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”

“I got home around one.”  I put my hand to the front of his shirt.

“Alright, well, I’ll go back to my room then.”  He pulled back the covers and leaned in, whispering, “If you want me to stay in that room, don’t wear that.”

I watched him get up and walk into the other room.  Close the door.  That was it.  Did I do something wrong?

*

The next morning, I slept in late.  When I woke, Vince’s door was open and he was gone.  His car was in the drive, but I didn’t see him anywhere.  My house was far too small for a person to go missing.  He must have gone on foot.

About a half hour later, he strolled in, carrying two paper cups.  He was wearing running gear.  “Hey.  I got you a coffee.”

“You went running?”

“Yep.  I didn’t want to wake you.”

I felt a knot in my throat.  It was irrational.  When Ryan went running, he never came home.

“You alright?”  He set our cups down on the counter.

“Fine.”  I walked away.  I knew I was being crazy.  He didn’t need to know why.  “I may go back to bed.”

“You just woke up.”  He paused.  “Sure you’re okay?”

I needed to change the subject.  “You know, on second thought, I think I’ll walk down to the market and get some pastries.”

“I can go, babe.”

“Don’t call me that.”  I was being rough.  He looked noticeably hurt.  He took his coffee and started up the stairs.

“Vince,” I called.  He stopped.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean it.  I don’t know what is going on with me.  Do you want me to get you one?”

“What I want is for you to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“I just had a stupid reaction.  You went running.”

“So what?”

“Ryan went running.”

He came back down and stopped in front of me, placing his cup back on the counter.  “I know I’m gross and sweaty, but…” He put his arms around me and pressed me into his chest.  He kissed the top of my hair.

He released me after a few seconds and cupped my face with his hands.  “I’m not going anywhere.”  He started for the stairs.  “I’m taking a shower.  Then we’ll walk down to that market together, okay?”

*

I stood outside of the running water.  Vince was in there.  Grow some balls, Rachel!

Fuck it.

I stripped out of my red nightgown and shimmied out of my thong.  Now or never.

I slowly pulled back the shower curtain and positioned myself behind him, placing my hands on his hips.

“Jesus, Rachel!  You scared the shit out of me.”  He let out a short laugh and turned to face me.  “What are you doing?”

“I needed you.”

His stomach tensed.  “You needed me?”  His dimple appeared.

“I want you.”

This was it.  I had to show him.  I wasn’t conflicted this time.  I pushed up on my toes and curled my arms around his neck, pushing my lips to his.  He was holding back.  He didn’t push me away, but he wasn’t exactly reciprocating.  His hands barely gripped my hips.  Turn on your lady charms, Stephens.  I ran the tip of my tongue across his bottom lip and dragged it to the underside of his jaw, trailing my hands down his chest.

He was growing.  Fast.

“Do you want me?”  I tried to use my best seductress voice.  If this didn’t work, I was going to have to move out of state.

“You know I want you.  I have never wanted anyone so much in my entire life.”  He lifted his arm and pulled my short hair at the nape of my neck, craning my head back.  “Let’s go.”

Wait, what?  Where were we going?

“What?”

“Out of here.  I can’t fuck you in this shower.  I’m taking my time today, woman.”  He turned the knobs and smacked me on my backside.  “Now.”

Okay, okay.

He picked me up over his shoulder and tossed me onto the bed.  I let out a squeal.  Already, I was acting like an idiot and he hadn’t even stuck it in.

He crawled in on top of me and grabbed me by the back of my knees, pulling me with a hard, swift motion towards him.  Dear Lord.

“What do you want, Rachel?”

“You,” I breathed.

“What do you want, Rachel?”

Um… I was confused now.

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”  He rubbed up and down the front of my thighs methodically.

“Do you want me to take you this way?”

He flipped me over onto my stomach.  Holy Mother of God.  “Do you want me to take you this way?”  He ran his tongue across the ink on my back, kneading the flesh around it with his fingers.

“What do you want?”

I was going to explode.  Just full-on split in half.

I wasn’t a master of the sex talk.  It embarrassed me.  Ryan wasn’t a talker and he certainly wasn’t as bold as Vince was.  What was I supposed to say?

I turned my head to face him.  “I want you.  I don’t care how.”  There, that’ll do.

“I’m not going to fuck you until you tell me how you like it.”  He growled in my ear.  “Do you want it soft?”  He kissed the tops of my shoulder blades.  “Do you want it harder?”  It was official.  I was turned on.

I rolled over until I was on my back, propped up on my elbows, facing him.  “Like this.  And hard.”

Who was I?  Linda Lovelace?

He reached into the nightstand and tore a foil wrapper.  “We have got to get you on the pill.”

“I am on the pill.”

“Are you serious?  Then why did you use condoms?”

“I don’t know… they’re from before, I guess.”

“Before when?”

“Before I went on the pill, I think.”  Ugh, he needed to stop asking questions.  “Just… I’m not doing that with you until I see a doctor’s note, friend.”

He grinned.  “I’ll make an appointment tomorrow then.”

Chapter Eight

I think I had thigh burn.  And possibly tennis elbow.  Vince was insatiable.  I just wanted some rest.  Yes, I wanted him yesterday.  Like… in a crazy way.  But now, I had to deal with this “living together” thing.  Basically, I told him that I wanted him to stay away from me; not try to sleep with me.  And then I had gone all Slutty McSlutterson and attacked him.

It wasn’t like I could just go back to square one.  I either had to embrace my newfound sluttiness or ignore him all together.

A conundrum.

Luckily, I had a shopping trip with Lauren today.  I could get a little distance.

Vince was serious about the clinic.  He woke up early and started making phone calls.  I was sure that no clinic was open on a Sunday, but he found one.  Of course he found one.  His appointment was at noon.

So, what happened when he got a clean bill of health?  Oh, God, let’s hope he gets a clean bill of health.  Having sex without protection seemed serious.  It was what “real” couples did.  They grocery shopped together, ate off of the same plate, held hands in the movies, had sex without abandon.

In less than two weeks, he would be moved into his own place.  Things would slow down.  Right?

*

Lauren came to pick me up around 11:30.  Vince had left for his appointment a few minutes before she arrived.  She wanted to spend the day getting “pampered.”  This included shopping, nails, and an earth shattering back massage at Majestic.

We ended up going to the mall on the north end, aimlessly walking around and poking our heads in different boutiques.  I dragged her into Anthropologie and ended up spending an hour trying on dress after dress.  I finally settled on a black-and-white printed Dusen Dusen tennis dress with a deep box pleat in the center.  It cost way more than I intended to spend, but it was crazy awesome.  I would just eat soup this week.

We walked across the hall and settled into another store.  This one was a little out of my price range.

“So, how’s Vince?”  She raised her eyebrow at me, shifting through the clearance rack.  She was trying to look disinterested.  It wasn’t working.

“He’s fine.”

“You guys hooked up yet?”

I was hiding.  Literally trying to hide from her behind a tall rack.  At 5 feet, 2 inches, it was pretty easy to camouflage myself behind a row of maxi dresses.

“Girl, I can see you.”  She shoved the dresses and bent her head down, peering at me through the metal.  “You slut!  You totally did it, right?”

I picked up a pair of large sunglasses and slid them on.  “Paris Hilton or Florida housewife?”

“Oh my God.  You did.”

My face was getting more flushed by the minute.  I was caught.

Carrie already knew.  She didn’t seem to think it was horrific, but she was my best friend.  She had to stick by my side and all that nonsense.  “Please, Lauren… don’t say anything.”

She grabbed my hand and said, “Cookies.  Now.”

We sat outside of the bakery.  I tore small pieces off of my Snickerdoodle and listened to her one-sided conversation about my new “relationship.”

Oh my God.

Do you know what this means?

I mean, he’s living with you.

Oooh, we need new lingerie!

Cookies consumed, she was obsessed with me buying some sort of lacy nightmare for Vince.  An hour later, I walked away with a full bag of slut gear and two bottles of perfume that I hated.  It felt comical.  I was sure that the bag would get pushed to the back of my closet and returned next week.

“Screw the massage.  Go home, put on that green thong and get some.”

“I just want to take a nap.”  I groaned.

“Nap after.”

She pretty much peeled out of the parking lot, clearly on a mission to get me laid.  I looked out the window on the way home while she talked.

I really did just want to take a nap.  This was all getting so complicated.  I was starting to forget Ryan; my days were filled with Vince.

Spending the weekends together was really great, but they were full days.  We were around each other nonstop.  I was thankful that we both went back to work tomorrow.  We would be in a routine.  We wouldn’t see each other during the day.  I worked north, he worked downtown.  A thirty minute drive.  There would be no lunches spent together.

She pulled into my drive and put the car in park.  Oh no, this wasn’t over.  She turned to me.

“Rachel.  All jokes aside… this is good.  You need to get your mind off of things.”  She paused.  “So what if Vince isn’t the love of your life?  You had that.  If this is a distraction to help you, see where it goes.  You don’t have to marry the guy.  Just … be happy.”

She smiled at me.  I looked at my lap.  “Okay.”  I pulled the door handle.  “See you tomorrow at work.  Thanks for driving today.”

“Love you, bunny.”

“Love you too.”

*

Vince was watching television when I cracked the door.  He clicked the remote and turned it off.  “You need help?”

“I’m good.  I don’t have that much.”

“Victoria’s Secret?”

“Yeah, Lauren made me buy all of this stuff.”  My voice trailed off.  “Perfume and other stuff.”  I said “stuff” again.  What was wrong with me?  Why couldn’t I just tell him that I bought slut wear to tempt him with?

“She made you?”  He was smiling at me now.

I groaned aloud.  “Whatever.  It’s just underwear.  No big deal.”

“Oooh, let’s see.”  He clapped his hands together.  “Fashion show?”

“No.”  I turned to the stairs and started up them.

“Don’t you even want to know how the clinic went?”

Oh crap.  I had forgotten about that.

“Oh yeah, how did that go?”

“Got a full screen for everything.  I wasn’t sure what all you wanted me to get, so… anyway, the HIV test is negative.  They told me while I was there.  The rest of the stuff takes about 48 hours.  Someone should call me by Tuesday.”

God, were we talking about this?  It seemed so intimate.

“Oh, good.”  What else was I supposed to say?  Great, now we can do it like bunnies?

“So, we wait until Tuesday and then I take you out to celebrate.”

“What are we celebrating?”

“It’s a sex-a-bration.”  He grinned, proud of his cleverness.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yep, but you love me.”

“Nope.”  I started to climb up the stairs.

“Yes, you do-ooh,” he said in a sing-song voice.

*

On Monday, Vince left for his new job.  He was so cute; I think he was actually nervous.  He changed clothes three times.

It was really hot that morning, so he ended up in a white Distillers t-shirt and dark, cuffed jeans, but they were both fitted and nice.  Plus, he worked in a recording studio.  I don’t think they had much of a dress code.

The morning routine was easy.  Comfortable, even.  It reminded me of my work mornings with Ryan.  Vince got up, showered and made coffee.  When I came downstairs, he poured me a cup.  I took it and went back to my room, commencing with my morning ritual.  Shower, hair, makeup, dress.

He caught me staring into my closet and gave his opinion.  “You should wear that pink one with the white flowers.  You know… the one you wore to my party.”

I couldn’t believe that he remembered what I wore to a party that was over two months ago.  It was a little dressier than what I normally wore to work, but I paired it with a cream vintage cardigan and ballet flats to make it a little more casual.

He had a bit more of a commute than I did, so he left a few minutes before me.  I could tell he wanted to kiss me goodbye.

Although he had slept in my room again on Sunday night, he hadn’t kissed me.  I could tell that he was hesitant.  He wanted me to have space if I needed it.  I wondered if he lay in bed like I did, feeling awkward, wishing we could just “be” together.  When would that day come?

When he made for the door, he turned.  “You look so pretty.  Wish me luck.”

I walked to him.  “Good luck, honey.”  Honey?  Ugh.

Eh, fuck it.  I leaned in and gave him a short, wet kiss and placed my hands on the sides of his neck.  I wanted him to know that he didn’t have to keep walking on eggshells around me.  I wasn’t going to break.

When the kiss broke, he smiled.  He was happy.

*

Vince came home from work, gushing about his day.  I was overjoyed that he seemed to be so settled in such a short amount of time.  His rental would be ready in a few weeks and things would start to adjust.

“Tomorrow is Tuesday.”

“Yeah?  What’s Tuesday?”

He raised his eyebrow, his look knowing.  “You know what Tuesday is, lady.”

“Ah, yes.  Test Results Tuesday.”

“No… it’s All-Sex-All-The-Time Tuesday.”

“What’s wrong with you?”  I mocked him.

“Nothing is wrong with me.  Why can’t I be excited to have a little sexy time with my girl?”

“Sexy time?”

“Whatever.  You know what I mean.”  He leaned in.  “I’ve been so good.”

“God, Vin, it’s been like two days.  Seriously, like two full days.  You’ll survive, I bet.”  Truthfully, I was counting the hours as well.

He slid over to me.  “What if we just did a little second base action?”  He breathed in my ear.

“What happened to All-Sex-All-The-Time Tuesday?  It’s less than 24 hours from now.”

“Okay, I can wait.  But I can’t wait to kiss you.”

He leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine, parting his lips, his tongue warm.  I wrapped my arms around his neck, breathing him in.  God, he smelled good.  He placed his hands on the tops of my thighs, moving up.  He moved his left hand and placed it on the small of my back.  His right hand disappeared under my dress, brushing the front of my underwear, his fingers pressed against the outside of the satin material.  I was squirming now.

“That’s more than kissing, Vince.”  I breathed the words aloud, but they weren’t very convincing.

“Okay.”  He was breathing hard.  “Tomorrow then.”  He took his hand out of my dress.

What?  Oh God, what did I do?  I didn’t mean it!  I didn’t mean it!

“You don’t have to go.”

“I can’t not kiss you.”

“Then kiss me.”  You slut.

He inched back into me and put his arms around my waist, pressing his lips to my ear.  “I’m going to go upstairs and change out of these clothes.  Then I’m going to get in that bed.  Please come.”

“Okay.”  Mega slut!

“We won’t do anything.”  He kissed me slowly down my neck, licking the hollow at my throat.  “I can wait 24 hours.”  He brushed his hand across my breast, lightly palming it.  Sweet Mother of God.  “Can you?”

“Um… yeah.”  I couldn’t.  But, I would.

“Let’s go up.”

*

I brushed my teeth and watched his reflection in the mirror behind me, stripping out of his t-shirt and jeans, taking his boxer briefs with them.  I stared into the sink, flushing with embarrassment.  When I dared to look back up, he had replaced them with a pair of plaid, drawstring pants.

Seriously?  I had let this man do God knows what with me and I couldn’t look at him naked without feeling flustered?

I was tempted to put on sweatpants.  I needed to lock down my lady parts.  I wanted to keep this PG.  I pulled on a white eyelet short gown.  That was virginal enough, right?

He was in bed now, the sheet pulled up just below his waistband.

“You look like an angel.”  Aw, that’s sweet.  “I can’t wait to do unspeakable things to you.”  Alright, maybe not.

“Keep it in your pants, Conti,” I warned.  I slipped in beside him and clicked off the bedroom light.  “Night.”

He casually placed his arm around my waist, pulling me closer.  He kissed the back of my neck lightly.  “Goodnight, love.”

*

Work on Tuesday was painful.  I had already resigned that I was going to sleep with Vince, but I hadn’t planned on being nervous about it.  I had already slept with him, for crying out loud!

This was different somehow.  One little piece of paper.  That one paper that catapulted him from “casual sex friend” to “possible boyfriend” status.  I feared that we wouldn’t be able to keep this secret forever.  He wanted to tell people about us.  He wanted to make us official.

I couldn’t.  Not yet.  I also couldn’t picture my life without him.  I was changed now.

I received an email from him at 3:02 that afternoon.  It read “All-Negative-All-The-Time-Tuesday!”

I felt my cheeks redden.  Oh God, did I forget to shave my legs today?  What should I wear?  Should I take another shower?  Would we eat first or would he just bend me over the closest surface he could find?

I was overthinking.  He wasn’t a teenager.  Surely, he could make it through a meal without wanting to poke me with his boy parts.  I shifted uncomfortably.  I couldn’t focus on work.  I popped into Lauren’s office.

“Hey, I think I’m going to get out of here.  I don’t feel that great.”

She didn’t look up from her computer screen.  “I bet I know what would make you feel better.”

“Seriously?”

Smiling, she said, “Go.”

*

I arrived home shortly before 4 pm.  Vince’s car was in the driveway.  I wondered if he was as nervous as I was.  What was he doing here?  I unlocked the door.

There were candles on the table in the center.  The table was set; he had used our wedding china.  The pattern Ryan and I picked out.  I could feel my throat starting to get tight.  Get it together, Rachel.  It’s fucking dinnerware.

I could smell something cooking, but I couldn’t determine the scent.  Lasagna?  Just then, Vince came down the stairs.

“What are you doing here?  You’re early.”

“I wasn’t getting anything done at work, so I just decided to come home.”

“But I’m not ready.”  He was whining a bit.  “I wanted it to be perfect.”

I walked over to him and stood on my tiptoes, placing a light kiss on his lips.  “It is perfect.  You’re absolutely perfect.  Thank you.”

“You look so pretty today.”  He turned the oven light on and peered inside.

“Ech.  I hate this dress.  It’s so old.”

“Well, I think it’s pretty.  Pink is nice on you.  You wear it a lot.”

He was right.  I did.  A sales girl once told me that pink was my color.  I took it to heart, I guess.

“What are you making?  It smells awesome.”

“It’s my Nonna Conti’s lasagna.”  Nailed it.

I sighed.  “Mmmm.”

“You have no idea.  Jack actually makes it a lot better than I do, but he’s not here, so mine will have to do.”

“How is Jack, by the way?  I haven’t talked to him in a while.”

“He’s good.“  He paused.  “Talked to a lawyer, so he’s finally going to get that divorce.”

“Did you like his wife?”

“Well, she’s really hot, so the initial male reaction is to like her, but once I was around her for any length of time, I figured out that she wasn’t meant to be married.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that the first time I hung out with her and Jack, she tried to put her hands down the front of my pants, so there’s that.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah… wow.”

He opened the oven and pulled out the giant pan.  He placed it on a trivet and opened the refrigerator.  “Wine?”

“Mmm, beer, I think.”

He took two bottles out and handed me one.  He clinked his bottle to mine.

“To Tuesday.”  He smiled.

“To Tuesday.”

A few minutes later, we sat at the table and consumed the best lasagna I had ever tasted.  If she were still alive, I would have kissed Nonna Conti on the mouth.  Conversation was easy.  Vince was relaxed and content.  I was becoming more and more neurotic by the minute.

“Do the dishes now or wait until morning?”  Vince turned to me.

“We should at least soak them, I guess, but I don’t feel really want to do them.”

“Come upstairs.”

Chapter Nine

Oh God, could he see me sweating?

He took my hand and led me up the staircase.  Inside the room, Vince had placed a bouquet of flowers on my bedside table.  Pink roses.  I had told him once that they were my favorite.  Pretty basic, but I guess they were a classic for a reason.

He walked to the small turntable on my dresser.  “What do you want to listen to?”

“Surprise me.”

He chose Al Green’s “Here I Am.”  Good choice.

He walked around behind me and slowly started to unzip my dress.  He placed his hands on my shoulders and slowly slipped the material down my arms, the dress crumpling at my feet.  “Your skin is so soft.”

I shivered.  He turned me around and leaned in for a whisper soft kiss on my lips.  “And tastes so good.”

Why was I so nervous?

He slid his arm around my waist and pulled me closer.  His lips were slow and sweet; he was taking care of me.  I started to deepen the kiss, taking his bottom lip and dragging it with my teeth.  “Fuck…”  He broke the kiss and responded by running his tongue up the side of my ear.  “You can’t know how much I want you right now.”  His grip got tighter.  “How much I need you.”

My hands reached for the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down with a quick motion.  I slid my hand under the band of his underwear.  He was ready.  Oh my God.  Definitely ready.  Was I blushing?

I slowly pulled my hand from his jeans and slid it to his hip.  “You need me?”  I leaned into his chest and placed small kisses down to his ribcage.

“Yes,” he groaned.  “Do you need me?”  He moved his hand between my legs and slowly slipped his fingers inside of my underwear.

“Oh, God.”  I closed my eyes.

He turned and placed me on the side of the bed in a sitting position, kneeling in front of me.  His hands moved to my backside, gently tugging at my underwear.  I placed my hands on the bed, lifting up, as he moved them down my legs.  His eyes never left mine.  I was embarrassed a bit.  He was still clothed and I was completely undressed except for my bra.  His mouth moved a trail from my neck down to my breasts.  One hand moved to the back of my bra and unclasped it on the first try.  Yowsa.

There’s a 50/50 chance that I won’t survive this.

Removing my bra and sliding it down my arms, he grazed my nipple with his teeth.  He kissed down my soft flesh, breathing in deep, as if memorizing my scent.  I tried to relax.  I had always been anxious about my stomach; I avoided being on top or positioning myself in any way that wouldn’t be attractive.  I tried to focus on how good this felt, with Vince kissing me so intimately, slowly moving down between my legs.  He paused, peering up and meeting my eyes.

Oh God, is he changing his mind?  Does he not want to do this?

“I love you.”

That was the last thing he said before he kissed me.  Down there.  Oh my God… right there.  I tried to concentrate.  Think about anything else.  Did we leave the oven on?  When is the last time I got a bikini wax?  Does he like doing this or is he just doing it because he thinks I want it?

His hands pressed my thighs further apart, gripping the outsides and pulling me closer to the edge of the bed.  I was clutching the coverlet now, the material bunching in my tight fists.  I panted, swore, moaned… acted like a girl who had never received oral sex in her life.  Yes, surely I was embarrassing myself.  But, in true Vince fashion, he seemed to love it.  Totally immersed in my idiocy.

I felt pressure forming inside.  I could feel all sanity slowly slipping from my grip.  I’d seen Cinemax before.  I knew this was the point where the woman would look positively alluring and seductive while she laid back and rode out her climax.  Me?  Oh, no.  Instead, I gripped the back of his hair and squealed like some sort of deranged barnyard animal.

Vince kissed my inner thigh and laughed.  Yes, laughed.  “God, you are too fucking much.”

I put my hand over my mouth.  “I’m so sorry.”

“If you apologize one more time for having an orgasm, I’m not gonna give you another one.”  He wrapped his arms around me and placed a short, wet kiss on my mouth.  I could taste myself on his lips.

“Thank you,” I breathed.  “You know… for that.”

“Are you kidding me?”

I didn’t know how to say it.  “Ryan… he wasn’t really a fan.  Of… that.”

He smiled softly.  “Well, lucky for you… I am.  A huge fan.”

I laughed and leaned in to kiss him again, running my tongue along the outside of his lower lip.  He bit my lip this time, pulling on it for effect.  I couldn’t get enough of his mouth, his lips, his tongue.  I could make out with him like a teenager all day.  But this kiss was different.  It was definitely meant to go somewhere.  I knew he wanted me and I couldn’t wait another minute to have him.

I wanted to ask him a million things, but I had always been too puritanical.  I never talked about sex while we were doing it.  I never asked Ryan what he liked or what he wanted.  He never asked me.   It was hard to turn that button off now.  Did he want me to reciprocate?  I never minded doing that with Ryan, but he always seemed to end it too soon.  He would let me try for a minute or two, but it would always turn into sex.  He never just let me drive him crazy with no end goal in his sights.

“What’s on your mind?”  Vince lifted me from my sitting position and laid me down on the bed.  He stood and pulled off his t-shirt.  Finally.  Then came the pants.  Thank God.

“Nothing.”  Speak up, Rachel.  “Okay… do you want me to?”

“Do I want you to what?”  He slid into bed next to me, smiling.

“You know, kiss you?”

He laughed.  “Kiss me?  Are you asking me if I want you to…?”  He laughed again and gave me a crude gagging gesture.

“Forget it.”  Were he and Carrie related somehow?  I put my hand over my eyes and rolled over on my stomach.

“Ray,” he teased.  “I’m kidding.”  He traced his fingers across the dark ink on my back.  He lowered his voice.  “I’m not going to fight you if you want to kiss me, but I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

I rolled back over and locked eyes with his.  “What do you like?”

“What do you mean?”  He lazily rubbed my stomach, his head propped up on his elbow.

“I mean, what do you like… in bed?”

“I like you in bed.  You have no idea how fucking hot you make me.”  He leaned in and kissed the heart tattoo on my hip.  “I could come just by kissing you.  I like you on top of me.  I like to rub you until you scream.  I like when you dig your fingers into my back... when you scratch me.”  He smiled.  “I like everything about you.”

I was definitely blushing now.  “Can I talk about Ryan?”

“Now?  I’d rather not.”  He gave a short laugh.

“No, I mean that sometimes it helps me to talk about him.  I don’t want to compare you two, obviously, but sometimes I find myself wanting to tell you about him.”

“Ryan was my friend.  I know it doesn’t seem like it this minute,” he said, pulling me closer.  “But I loved him and if it makes you feel better to talk about him, I want you to do that.”

“He didn’t like blow jobs.”  There, I said it.

“Yes, he did.”  He gave me a quick kiss.  “Trust me.”

“No, I mean, not really.  He always made me stop.”  The last few years, I had stopped completely.

“I’m telling you, he liked them.”  The grin was back.

He leaned into me and pressed his lips against mine.  “I can’t wait another minute to be inside of you.”

Oh, okay.

Our kiss deepened.  He was practically licking my teeth.  I could literally feel my body temperature rising.  He shifted so that he was lying on top of me.  I could feel his stomach hardening, pushing his breath in and out.  He moaned lightly, my legs reflexively opening between his.  I hitched my left leg around his hip, nudging him.  I was trying to give him the “I’m ready” signal.  Why couldn’t I just say it?  Stick it in!  I needed professional help.

He looked at me with seriousness.  I felt a wave of embarrassment.  I hid it with a short laugh.  I don’t know why I was flustered now.  He literally had his face in my lady parts not 10 minutes ago!

“Are you ready?”

No barrier this time.  We were basically taking this to the way next level.  “Yes.”  I ran my fingers through his thick hair.  “I need you.”

With that, he pushed in slowly, as if it were my first time.  “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”  I kept my stare fixed on his.  My body slowly began to adjust.

He groaned and placed his forehead on my shoulder, pushing in and out with a careful ease.  “Fuck.”  He was taking his time with me.  He kissed my throat, lightly bit my shoulder, pushed his fingers into my sides so hard that it almost hurt.  Almost.  “I’ve never wanted anyone more,” he breathed.

I thought about that for a second.  I wondered how many girls he had been with.  Stop thinking about that, Rachel.  He felt so experienced.  There was no way… he wanted me more than anyone else?  Ever?  He was definitely the best I’d ever had.  Of course, I really only had one man to compare him to.  I felt terrible for even thinking it.  I’d married the love of my life.  Wasn’t he?  But with Vince, I literally felt like I was on fire.

“Is this okay?” I asked, breathing heavy now.  “How do you want me?”  God, I’m a slut.

He pulled out and rolled me to my side, positioning himself behind me.  Lifting my leg just slightly, he slid back in, scissoring his legs in between mine.  He groaned and pushed in harder, his fingers splayed across my stomach, pulling me back into his body with each movement.  I bit the side of my pillowcase and let out a short cry.  He moved faster now, my insides curling.  I could feel that he was close.  He was tensing up; breathing harder now.

He moved his hand down from my stomach, cupping me lightly, his thumb gently rubbing between my legs.  Yep, I was going to lose it.  My head craned back, practically cracking the base of my skull against his forehead, screaming my release.

“Rachel,” Vince breathed in my ear.  He pushed into me one last time and his body stilled, breathing hard, his mouth against my neck.  “Fuck.”

He pulled out of me slowly and kissed my left shoulder blade.  “Don’t go anywhere.”  My eyes followed him into the bathroom.  I could hear the knobs turn and the water start to pulse in the shower.  He came back to the bed and put his hand out, inviting me to follow him.  “Shower?”

I placed my hand in his and followed him into the tub, closing the curtain behind me.  He cupped my face in his hands.  “Thank you.”

“For what?”  I smiled up at him.

“For bringing me back to life.”

I stood on my toes and kissed him, splaying my hands on his chest.  “I’m coming back too,” I whispered.

I immediately felt ashamed.  How could I say that?  What kind of a person bounces back so quickly?  I wanted to run from the shower, go back to bed, pull up the covers and hide for six months.  I stared at the shower floor, trying to fight impending tears.

“Hey,” he whispered, pulling my chin up, locking his eyes to mine.  “Don’t run away.”

“I’m not.”  I closed my eyes and ran my hair under the hot water.  Vince squeezed some shampoo in his hands and started to massage it into my scalp.  “I’ve got it.”  I turned on a dime.  I was suddenly cold.  Distant.

He pulled me into his body, wrapping his arms around me tightly.  “No, you don’t.”  I knew what he meant.

Fuck.  My throat was getting tighter.  I could feel a sob escape, a string of expletives rolling around in my brain.

I was crying now.  Double Fuck.  And he was right there to watch the magic happen.  Vince let me cry as he rinsed my hair and washed my body.  He had to be getting sick of my little post-coital shame fests.  I know I was.  He said nothing.  He just helped me to stand, to get clean, to pull myself together.

63 days.

That’s how long it took for me to fall in love with Vince.

Chapter Ten

I had decided that I needed to visit Elsa in Chicago.  I hadn’t seen her since the funeral and she had been trying to call me for a few days.  I couldn’t avoid her forever.  I had to tell her about Vince.  She would be disappointed but, thankfully, sisters forgive.

The next night, at dinner, I made my announcement.  Hopefully, he hadn’t planned anything for the weekend.

“I think I’m going to visit my sister.”

“Oh yeah?  Well, I might have to work on Saturday.  Bob made an appointment and now he doesn’t know if he can be there.”

I nodded.  “Well, that’s okay.  I was going to go by myself anyway.  We haven’t really talked since the funeral and... she also doesn’t know about you.”  I winced just a bit.

“Oh.”  He paused.  “Okay.  So, are you going to tell her then?”

“I kind of feel like I have to.  I don’t want to keep things from her.  I know she’ll tell our mom, which I’m not looking forward to, but I don’t want them to find out some other way.”

“I’m pretty sure since no one else knows; it would be hard for them to find out.”  His tone was thick.  He wanted everyone to know about us.

I had only told Carrie and Lauren.  I didn’t even want him to tell Jack.  So far, he had kept our “secret.”  I wasn’t sure why I was so concerned with Jack finding out.  I guess it was just one more of Ryan’s friends that I didn’t want to disappoint.  I knew Jack would understand, but it still felt too raw.  Too exposed.

“I think I’m going to leave after work on Friday.”  I stood and cleared the dishes from the table.

He was silent for a moment.  “You gonna stay at Elsa’s?”

“Where else would I stay?”

“I don’t know.  With Jack, maybe?”

“I’ll probably call him, I guess.”

“Are you going to talk to your mom while you’re there?”

My mom lived in Naperville, about 35 miles west of Elsa’s apartment.  I hadn’t planned on seeing her, but Vince planted that seed now.  I would have to take a drive over.  She hadn’t seen me since Ryan had died, but not for lack of trying.

“Maybe I’ll go over there for an hour before I come home on Sunday.”

“Anything you want me to do here?  I noticed the garage is pretty full.”

“Leave it.”  I couldn’t bear to have him pack Ryan’s things.

“Okay.  Well, maybe I’ll see if I can get a temporary key to the rental this weekend.  I could paint or something.”

“That’d be good.”

His voice got soft.  “Everything okay?  I feel like you’re being distant.  I don’t know… something.”

I walked over to his chair and straddled his lap.  “I’m great.”  I wrapped my arms around his neck and lowered my lips to his.

He tightened his grip around my waist, pulling my body closer.  Moving his mouth to my neck, he slowly licked along the underside of my jaw.  “You always smell so good.”

I rocked up on his lap, grinding down a little.  He let out a quiet moan.  I eased back and off of him, gently lowering to my knees.  Locking eyes, I fumbled with the button of his jeans.  I unzipped them and lightly brushed my hand over the front of his underwear.  Yep, he was ready.  He caught his bottom lip in his teeth, looking strained.  I can’t believe I’m doing this.  I was not an expert.  I knew a little about what Ryan liked just by the sounds that he made.  That was it.  What if Vince liked something else?

I knew the basics:  no teeth, mild sucking, make your tongue as wet as possible, relax your throat.  That was about the extent of my oral skills.  I had never once swallowed.  It had never gotten that far.  What if Vince came?  I mean, I should expect that he would, right?

Stop being neurotic, Rachel.  Just grab it and go.

I eased him out of his underwear.  Relax.  Quit being such a prude.  I took the tip and placed it in my mouth, easing my lips down.  This wasn’t so difficult, right?  I continued to focus.  What had I seen done?  What had I read about?  I tried all of the tricks.  Vince strained his back against the kitchen chair.  “Fuck…”

Oh, he liked that.  I started to take mental notes.

1.                  Place hand along base and squeeze just a bit.

2.                  Shuffle your grip a little.

3.                  Lick along sides; creates positive feedback.

4.                  Develop friction.

5.                  Weird pee hole?  Put your tongue into it.  Not too much.

6.                  Make noises.  Enthusiasm is key.  The more noise I make, the more he makes.

He was writhing in his chair now, his hands tugging at my hair slightly, his hips elevating.

“Aaah, Rachel.  You’ve gotta stop unless you want me to come.”  His voice was strained.  He was close.

I had to know.  I had to swallow.  Lauren told me once about this place right below the tip… it was called the “P-Spot.”  She had described it in great detail as only she could do.  You were supposed to push on it.  Or massage it.  I couldn’t exactly remember.  Now or never, Stephens.  Just find it and go from there.

I found it.

Vince gripped the side of the chair, stilling in his seat, gasping for air.  I, on the other hand, nearly choked.  I tried a trick I had read in Cosmo about massaging your own throat while you swallowed.  I was able to get it down, but it was kind of gross… and salty.  Ugh, how did girls do this?  Maybe I would have to try a different Cosmo trick next time:  cover it with my hand or just throw a towel over it and run away.

I looked up at him.  Why was I embarrassed?

“I love you so much right now.”  He was breathing hard.  He leaned in and took my face in his hands.  He brushed his lips to mine and gave a short laugh.  “You are good at literally everything.”

I smiled.  “Really?  It wasn’t bad?  I was so nervous.  I didn’t know what you would like.”  Was I really being this casual with him?  I was talking about it like I wasn’t sure if he liked wheat or rye.

“Rachel, you never have to do anything that you’re nervous about.”  He stroked the side of my face with his fingertips.

“No, I just meant that I didn’t know what you would like and so that made me nervous.  I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

He laughed.  “I thought you didn’t do that really, so I was surprised, I guess.  You’ve got some moves, Stephens.”  He shifted in the chair and buttoned his pants.

I stood.  “I don’t do that.  I mean, I really haven’t.”  Just spit it out, Rachel.  “I’ve never swallowed.”

“Oh.”  He stood and took my hands in his.  “Now I feel bad.”

“Why?  You told me it was happening and I didn’t stop.”  I paused.  “It wasn’t bad,” I lied, “I just wasn’t ready, I suppose.  I mean, maybe there is no way to get ready for a burst of semen in your mouth.”  I laughed aloud, lightening the air.

“Best.  Girlfriend.  Ever.”

I turned to him.  “Hey, Vince?”

“Yeah.”

“I wanted to ask you about something.  When we first met, you told me that you weren’t a ‘dater.’”

“Yeah?”

“Well, now you’re so different.  You call me your girlfriend and you tell me you love me… you want to tell everyone about us.  I just wondered what had changed.”  I braced myself for his answer.

“You.”

“What do you mean?”

“You changed me.  I like a lot of things, you know?  I like music and I like my job and I like my friends.  But I had never felt love for anyone other than Melora… and she totally fucked me over.”

Wait, who?

“Who’s Melora?”

*

“My ex-girlfriend.  We were together for a few years.”

“Define ‘a few.’”

“Five.”

Whoa.

“That’s kind of a long time, Conti.  Seems like you would have brought her up before now.”

“Why?  I’m not with her anymore and I don’t love her or want to get back together, so it seems unproductive to talk about it.”

I supposed he was right.  But I did want to talk about it.

“It’s not unproductive.  I want to know.”  Did I?

“Well… I met her when I was about 28, I guess.  She was a singer in a band and I was working at a small recording studio at that point.  She came in to record a demo and I ended up moving in with her a week later.”

Ouch.  I really didn’t want to know about this.  I felt a stabbing sensation in my chest.  Why was I having this reaction?  Did I think that he never had a girlfriend before?

“Oh.”  What was I supposed to say?

“What?”

“Nothing.”  Just kill me now.  I couldn’t breathe.  I needed to lie down.  Instead, I sat on the couch and clutched a throw pillow.

“Aw, what’s the matter?”  He chuckled.  “Surely you knew that I’ve dated someone before.”  He slid into the space next to me, moving close.

“I guess I didn’t expect it to hurt.”

I was an idiot.

“Come here.”  I placed my head to his chest and he cupped the back of my neck.  “I never felt for one day about Melora like I feel about you.”

Fucking Melora.  Even her name was making my fists clench.

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“Rachel, listen.  She means nothing.  I just mentioned her because you asked me why I didn’t date.  I guess it was because she broke me a little and I never wanted to get into all of that stuff again… until I met you.  I fell in love with you, so there wasn’t anything I could do.”

Ah.  I could breathe again.

“So, what happened?  You know, with her?”

“Like why did we break up?”

“Yeah.”

“She got an abortion.”  He said it so casually.

“What?”

“She got pregnant, she didn’t tell me and then she got rid of it, also not telling me.”

“Oh my God.  How did you find out?”

“My friend John was dating this girl, Sarah, at the time.  Sarah worked at the clinic and saw Melora there.  I guess she tried to talk her out of telling John or me or whatever, but Sarah told him anyway.  He called me and I confronted her about it.”

He let out a heavy sigh, but continued.

“She didn’t deny it.  She told me that she had plans to be fucking famous or whatever and that a baby didn’t fit into that plan.  She thought I would feel the same way, so she never ‘bothered’ to tell me.  I had to find out from my fucking friend.  After it had happened.”

This was a lot to process.

“Did you want a baby?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe not at the time, but I would have liked to have had the fucking option to discuss it.”  His voice was heated now.

“Do you think you’ll ever want a family?”

“Yes, I want one with you, eventually.”  He said it matter-of-factly.  Just like that.

What should I say?  What did I want to say?

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.”  He smiled.  “It wasn’t right with her.  When it was over, I felt… relief, almost.  It’s hard to describe.  I may have wanted that baby, but I would have been tied to her forever.  I don’t know.  I guess that’s why they say everything happens for a reason or whatever.”

“Is she still in Chicago?”

“I don’t think so.  Jack said that the last he heard, she moved to L.A.  Better music scene or whatever.  Honestly, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.  I’ll answer whatever else you want to talk about tonight… just no more about her.”

I could live with that.

“Vince, I’m really sorry that happened.”  I was.

“All trails led me to you, so I’m not.”

“Let’s go upstairs.”  I rubbed his thigh lightly.  “I’m going to miss you this weekend.”

He pulled me onto his lap.  “Why do we have to go upstairs when we have a completely good couch?”

Chapter Eleven

I got to Elsa’s on Friday a little after 9 pm.  She was dressed and waiting for me.   By dressed, I mean that she had clothes on.  If her pants were any tighter, I could have read her thoughts.  I barely made it in the door with my bag before she was rushing me out.

“Whoa!  Look at your fucking hair!”  She ruffled her fingers through it.  “Let’s move it, woman.  Sultan’s closes at 10 and we need meat pies.”  She was right.  We did need meat pies.  I had a lot to tell her.

We walked the short distance to the restaurant and got a chicken shawarma and two meat pies to go.  She flirted shamelessly with some guy behind the counter.  He knew her name… I got the feeling that there was more to that story.  When we left, she winked at him, linking her arm through mine.

“What’s happening in our wee Indianapolis these days?  Are you feeling okay?  You should move back here… you know, since Ryan’s gone.”  She was worried about me.  Mom probably wanted scoop.

“It’s actually really good.  I have a lot to tell you.”

“Really?  Dish.”

“Let’s wait until we get back to your place.  I need to stretch out… and drink a beer.”

“Word.  Oooh, I’ve got Jager too!”  She rubbed my arm.  “I miss you, sissy.”

“Aw,” I responded, mocking her a bit.

She responded by punching me in the upper arm.

The walk was too short.  I wasn’t ready to spill just yet.  I knew she couldn’t wait because she told me approximately ten times on the way.  “I can’t wait to find out your news!”

We settled in and filled our plates.  Sitting down on giant throw pillows, we sat across from each other at her coffee table.  She flipped on the television to Pandora.  We listened to the Interpol station.

“I’ve been seeing someone.”

She nearly choked.  “Uh, say what?”

“I’ve been seeing someone.  His name is Vince.  It’s new, but I wanted you to know.  I know everyone will think it’s too soon, but I can’t help it.”  I was talking way too fast.  “He lived here in Chicago, but I met him in Indy.  He’s moved there now… he’s really great and I want everyone to like him, but I’m afraid…”

She cut me off.  “You love him.”

“No,” I lied.  I hadn’t even told him that yet.

“Yes, you love him.”  She paused.  “How is that possible?  Like when did you meet?  It had to be love at first sight because it’s only been like three months, right?”  Now she was the one talking fast.

“Nine weeks.  We met just before the funeral.”

“Holy fuck!  Were you two together before Ryan died?”  Her eyes were huge.

“No, God, Elsa!  I met him because Ryan died.  They were friends from Northwestern; he came to the funeral.  Do you remember him, maybe?  Tall?  Anyway, he and his brother stayed at my house for almost a week after.  Since then, he’s just spent every weekend back and forth between here and there, basically.”  I was staring at my plate.  I couldn’t make eye contact with her.

“Whoa.  This is a lot to take in.”  Her eyes had a million questions.  She just asked one.  “Does he love you?”

I breathed in carefully.  “Yes.”

“Ho-lee shit.  Mom’s gonna fucking die, for reals.”

“Please, El, don’t say anything.  Promise me.  I’m going over there on Sunday and I’ll bring it up.”

“How are you gonna bring that up?  Good luck, dude.”  She took a bite of her pie and chewed slowly, a smile spreading across her face.  “You guys fucked yet?”

“El!  What’s the matter with you?”

“What?”  Her mouth was full.  “It’s a fucking valid question.”

“God…”  What was I supposed to tell her?  “It’s complicated.”

“How’s it complicated?  Either you fucked or you didn’t.”

She had a point.

“We’ve slept together.”  There.  End of subject.

She got a solemn look on her face.  “And how do you feel about that?”

“Well, I did feel okay about it, but I don’t know if I should, judging by your face.”

She put her meat pie down and wiped her mouth with a paper towel.  “Seriously.  What did you expect me to say?  Your husband dies, I’m worried fucking sick about you, you won’t return my phone calls, so I think you’re down there taking fucking sleeping pills or something… then you get here and tell me that you’ve totally moved on!  I mean, what’s my face supposed to look like?  I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

I could feel tears coming.  Fuck.  Every time someone tells me something I can’t handle, I cry?

“I haven’t moved on.”  My voice was quiet.

“You love this guy, Rach?  Cause that’s what you’re telling me.  I mean, that’s what I’m hearing.  And that’s alright if you do.  I just wish you wouldn’t have waited two fucking months to tell me.”

“I haven’t been with him the whole time, El.  This is new.”

“You just told me that you met him nine weeks ago.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t fuck him on the night of the funeral!”  I stood up.  “Fuck you, Elsa.”

I grabbed my bag and, with shaking hands, fumbled around for a cigarette.  I stalked towards the kitchen and made my way her sliding glass door which led to a small patio.  I sat on a hard metal chair and clicked the lighter.  A few minutes later, she joined me.  She reached out and took my free hand.

“I’m sorry.”

The tears came now.  I tried to stare at a corner of the table, taking a long drag off of my cigarette. I choked out, “I knew no one would understand.  That’s why I kept it to myself.”

“Are you kidding me?  I understand completely.  You were alone.  This guy came and picked up the pieces.  I mean, think about it.  When Dave and I split, I was fucking shredded.  Then, three days later, I fucked a guy from Pilates class.”  She cocked her head at me.  “See?  I know.”  She took the cigarette from my hand and took a pull off of it, handing it back to me.

“I just wish it were easier.  We have to hide.”

“Why?  Fuck those people.”

She always did have a different outlook on life than I did.

“That’s what Vince says too.  I don’t know.”  I flicked the lighter a few times and laid it back down on the table.  “I think I just need to talk to Jack.”

“Who the fuck is Jack?”

“Jack is Vince’s brother.  He doesn’t know about us either.”

“Don’t you think Vince should be the one to tell him?”

“He wanted to, but I wanted him to wait.  I don’t know.  It seems like I’m the only one hung up on this whole thing.  I’ve just been trying to put myself in Ryan’s shoes.  What if the tables were turned?  Would I want everyone to just be okay with him having a new girlfriend two months after he buried me?  I feel like I’m screwed no matter what.  Vince tries to understand, but he just thinks that this is ‘natural’ and doesn’t understand why I want to keep it a secret.”

“You have to put yourself in Vince’s shoes, not Ryan’s.  He wants to fucking be with you and can’t.  All he sees is that he has a girlfriend that he loves and he can’t tell any of his friends or family about it.  That kinda sucks, Ray.”

I held my hand up.  “I know, you’re right.”

“Fuck it.  Let’s call Jack.  You want to talk to him, I’ll come with you.”  She took the last draw off of the cigarette and flicked it over the balcony.  “Is he hot?”

*

Jack was home when I called.  Elsa and I had gotten in a cab and headed up north to Edgewater.  It was an expensive ride, at least seven miles from her apartment.  When we arrived, Jack was sitting on the steps with a large dog.

“Hey.”  I darted up the steps; he pulled me into a warm embrace.  The dog licked my hand.

“Where’s my bro?  I figured he’d be with you.”

“He’s in Indy.  Jack, this is my sister, Elsa Black.”

The two shook hands and said their hellos.  “Jeremy is here.”

He was?  Jack hadn’t mentioned that on the phone.

“Does he live here now?”

“Well, he’s staying here for a while.  After Vince left, he couldn’t really afford that place by himself.”

Oh.

“Great.  It will be nice to see him,” I lied.  I didn’t feel comfortable around him; I wasn’t sure why.

Elsa looked at me.  I just shrugged my shoulders and we went inside.

“This here is Buster.”  He peered down at the dog.

“Nice place, Jack.”  It really was.  Vince said that Jack made his living as a furniture maker.  I didn’t know much about carpentry, but maybe I needed to change professions.

Elsa leaned down and rubbed Buster on the head.  “Hey, buddy.  Who’s a good boy?”  He hopped up on the couch.

“You guys want a beer?”

We both nodded and Jack headed into the kitchen.  Jeremy came out of his room, as if on cue.  He was shirtless, as usual.  I had seen him in a shirt once, at the party.  Otherwise, being half nude was his uniform.

“Hey, little mama,” he crooned, picking me up and doing a half spin.  Were we that friendly?  He put me down slowly, his huge hands splayed across my back.  “Who’s this?”

“This is my sister, Elsa.  This is Jeremy.”

If she could have smiled any bigger, her face would have split.  “Hi.”

“Drinks all around for the hot sisters.”  See?  This is why I felt uncomfortable.

Elsa giggled.  I shot her a look.  She mouthed what the fuck?

Jack came back with the beers and we all took a seat around the dining table.  I wanted to speak with Jack alone.  I couldn’t talk to him about Vince with Jeremy around.  Instead, we just sat and talked.  Jack told us about the visit to his lawyer’s office and the final paperwork he had to sign in order to finally get his divorce.  Her name was Lana.  I didn’t even know that.  I really needed to be a better listener.

Jeremy stood and disappeared for a moment into his room, revealing a green glass bottle.  Fucking Jagermeister.  “Too bad you didn’t hold on to that one, mate.  She was a hot piece of ass.”

“Yeah, she’s having someone else’s kid, so I was pretty sure that was my exit.”

“Well, she’s single now, so maybe you could give me her number?”  He smiled, but his face was unreadable.  Was he being serious?  Ech.

“I’m pretty sure even you wouldn’t want to fuck her.”  Jack’s tone was clipped.  He took a long pull off of his bottle.

Jeremy turned to us.  “Shots then, ladies?”

Elsa smiled.  “When in Rome.”

“We’re not in Rome, Els.”  Stay away from him.  Stay away from him.

“Oh come on, sissy.  It’s one shot.”

Jeremy pounded his fist on the table.  “Yes!  At least one of you is not a fuckin’ nancy.”

Jeremy and Elsa finished their shots… and two more rounds.  I turned to Jack.  “Hey, can we go somewhere a little private?  I want to talk to you for a few minutes.”

“Sure.”  He stood.  “Hey guys, Rachel and I are going to step out front for a smoke real quick.  We’ll be back.”

“Ah, workin your way through the Conti brothers, are we, love?”  Jeremy looked up and tipped his empty shot glass to me.

I gave him a seething glare and headed towards the door.

“Watch yourself, Robinson,” Jack defended.

When we were settled on the steps, I fished a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and offered him one.  “Nah, I’m good.  I thought you were quitting.”

“I am.”  I smiled at him and flicked the lighter.

“Uh huh.”

“That guy’s a dick.”  I thumbed towards the door.

“I know… but he has a steady gig and pays half the bills.”

“What does he even do?”

Jack smiled, readjusting his glasses.  “He’s a model.”

I laughed aloud.  “Douche.”  I took a deep breath and started in.  “I wanted to tell you that Vince and I… well, we’re together now.”

He laughed.  “Uh, yeah, I know.”

What?

“Did he tell you?”

“Honey.  He packed up all of his shit and moved to a new state.  I didn’t think he moved because he wanted a new job.  He could have gotten one of those here.  I’m not a fucking genius, but I figure that if I’m gonna move 200 miles away, I’m gonna do it for a good reason.”

“186.”

“What?”

“It’s 186 miles.”

“Whatever, you know what I mean.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”

Jack looked out at the street.  He chose his words carefully.  “You were Ryan’s girl.  We knew that.  I talked to him a fucking hundred times about you.  I told him to back off.  He understood that, but I don’t know.  Every weekend, he would pack that bag even though I told him not to.”  He looked at me now.  “Don’t get me wrong.  You’re a beautiful, sweet girl.  But… he wasn’t supposed to fucking fall in love with you.”

How did he know that Vince was in love with me?

“He’s not…” I trailed off.

“Yeah, he is.  Listen, I’ve known him my whole life.  He may seem impulsive, but he’s not.  We grew up here.  We’ve never even left the fucking city.  We went to college here.  He’s never expressed any interest in moving anywhere else ever.  And then one day, he just says ‘hey, I’m moving to Indianapolis.  I got this great job.’  Fucking seriously?  He would never even have applied for that job if it weren’t for you.”  He picked up a rock and tossed it into the bush at the bottom of the steps.  “So, he’s cooked.”

“I love him.”  God, why did I tell him that?  I hadn’t even told Vince.

“He know that?”

“No.  I mean, yes, he says that he knows that I love him, but I’ve never said it out loud.”

“Well,” he said, “I suppose you better go home.”  He rubbed my back.  “Tell him.”

*

When we got back inside, I commenced upon a very drunk Elsa pinned up against the wall by a very aggressive Jeremy.  She had her hands on his chest, pushing him.  “Get your hands off of my fucking sister.”  I grabbed her arm.  She laughed nervously.

“It’s cool, sissy,” she slurred.

“It’s not cool, El.  Let’s go.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”  With that, she ran to Jack’s bathroom, slamming the heavy wood behind her.

Jeremy sauntered into his room, barking out a short laugh before closing his door.

Jack turned to me.  “You guys can stay here.  Just sleep in my room.”

“God, I wish she would fucking get it together.  I just want to go back.”  I leaned in, whispering, “I don’t want her here… with him.”

“Honestly, he’ll probably be passed out in a half hour.  I’ll wait up and make sure she gets to bed okay.  I’ll take the couch.”

I sighed.  “Thanks, Jack.  And I’m sorry, you know, for this.”  I pointed to the bathroom.  I could hear Elsa’s retching.  Not cute.

“No problem.  I did the same thing last night, so I feel her pain.”  He smiled.  “If you want to wear anything other than that,” he said, pointing at my dress, “there are t-shirts and sweats and stuff in the dresser.”

I leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  “You’re sweet like your brother.”

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s sensitive.”

“Who, Vince?”

“No, Jeremy.”  He smiled.  “Yes, Vince.  Just be careful with him.  He can’t survive you.”

I nodded.  “I can’t survive him.”

Chapter Twelve

Elsa and I had planned to go to Pilates on Saturday.  Instead, Jack took us back to Wicker Park in the morning and Elsa went back to bed.  I texted Vince.

Me:  Hi.  Miss me?

Vince:  So bored last night.  Went to the Wellington with Carrie and Rick.

Me: My Carrie and Rick?

Vince:  I know 3 people here.

Me: Right.  Have fun?

Vince: Thought about you.

Me: I can’t wait to come home.

Vince: Come home today then.

Me: I’ve got to see mom first.

Vince: Tell Elsa?

Me: And Jack.

Vince: What?

Me: Tell you tonight.  Coming home after I visit with her.

Vince: Be careful.  I love you.

Me: XOXO

I slid into bed next to Elsa and gave her a little squeeze.  “Els?”

“Uhhh,” she moaned.  “Fuck off.”

I laughed.  “Hey, I think I’m going to get dressed and go to see mom.”

She rolled over and stared at me, her eyes streaked with mascara.  “Yeah?  Can I come?”  She smiled.

“No.”

“Can you at least videotape that shit?”

I smiled.  “After that, I’m going back home.”

“No!  We were supposed to do fun stuff tonight.”

“I think I’ve had about all the fun I can handle.”  I rubbed her back.  “Speaking of that, how could you make out with that fuckwad?”

“Eh, I have a weakness for the Brits.  Plus, he looked like David Beckham.  I did it for womankind.”  She sat up and gave me an awkward hug.  She smelled like a mixture of stale beer and old vomit.  Gross.  “Good luck with mom, Rach.  Stay strong and all that shit.”  She pulled at a long strand of my hair.  “I really do like that haircut.”

She lay back down and turned towards the wall, asleep in seconds.  I put my hand on my little sister’s hip and gave her one last pat.  I would miss her.  We didn’t see each other enough.

*

The traffic was heavy; the trip to Naperville took longer than expected.  I took a deep breath and walked up the steps of my childhood home.   I knocked on the door, opening it after a few seconds.

“Mom?”

I could hear her wedding ring gliding along the metal railing.  My dad had been dead for over twenty years.  She never took it off.  Sarah Black was nothing if not a complex woman.  “My goodness, it’s really you.”

“Yep, it’s me.”

We hugged briefly.  “Come in here,” she said, gesturing towards the kitchen.  I could smell coffee and stale smoke.  “Sit, peanut.  How is my baby?”  She paused.  “You cut your hair off.  You should grow it back out.  This short cut makes you look a little heavier.”

Thanks, Mom.

“Okay.  No, I’m good, Mama.  I’ve just been busy… you know, work and stuff.”

She pulled a cigarette out of her pack, tapping the end of it on the table twice before placing it in her mouth and lighting it.  It was something I’d seen her do a thousand times.

“And you’re healing.  That keeps a woman’s mind occupied.”  She drummed her long acrylic fingernails.  “I should know.  When your father died, I never thought I was going to make it.  Some days, I still don’t know.  I was only a little older than you are now.”  She crossed herself.  “God just needed him more than we did.”

I rolled my eyes.  “Mom…“

She cut me off.  “You’re my daughter and you respect me in here.  You roll those eyes again, you can see yourself home.”

Fuck.  This conversation was going to be worse than I thought.

“I’ve got to talk to you about something.”  There.  Better to just rip the bandage off.

She straightened her blouse and placed her free hand flat on the table.  “Now… what’s going on?”

“I…”  This was going to be way worse.  “I met someone.”

The wheels were turning.  She knew what I meant.  “What do you mean, met someone?”

“I mean I met someone, Mama.  You know what that means.”

She looked down at the old formica tabletop, tapping her cigarette into the glass ashtray.  “Mmm, hmm.  Well, Rachel, I can see that these last few months have been productive for you.  I’m glad to see you are moving right along.  No rest for the wicked.”

Ouch.  She was upset.

“I’m not ‘moving right along.’  That’s mean and you know it.  I met someone and he’s great.  I came today to tell you about it because I thought it was the right thing to do.  That’s all.”  I crossed my arms over my chest.  I was acting petulant, but I didn’t care.

“When my Ray died, I never looked at a man again.”  Her lips pursed.  Was she fucking serious?

“Well, Mom, I guess that makes me a sinner.”  I threw my hands up and feigned a Southern accent.  “Please, Lord, forgive me and my wicked ways!”

“Out.”  She pointed to the front door.  “Get out of my house.  You are not welcome back here.”

“Mom…”

“I mean it.  If your father could see you…”  She shook her head.

“He can’t.”  I paused.  “Even if he could, he would be happy to know that someone cares about me.  That someone loves me.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Rachel.  This man doesn’t love you, whoever he is.  He is preying on a weak woman who is in mourning.  This man is a vulture.”

That was my cue.

I stood and slung my handbag around my shoulder.  “Thank you for having me.  I have to go.”

She stood.  “I’ll pray for you.”

I turned before she could see the first tear drop from my eye.  Fuck her.

*

It was the longest four hour drive in the history of man.  I needed to be home.  Vince was working today, but I hoped he would be home by now.  It was a little after 4 pm.

I couldn’t put the key in the lock fast enough.  “Vince?”

Vince came out of the den, smiling widely.  “There’s my girl.”

I ran to him, pressing my chest against his.  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I stood on the balls of my feet and pressed my mouth to the bottom of his throat.  “I love you.”

He stilled and pulled me back, studying my face.  “Whoa, what?”

“I love you.”  I glued my eyes to his.

He splayed his hands on my back and pulled me close, bending to kiss me.  He raked his tongue across my upper lip and tugged on it with his teeth.  “What happened in Chicago, honey?”

I pulled back.  “What do you mean?”

“You’re obviously upset.  Although I’ve been dying to hear you say those words, I wish you would’ve said them when you haven’t been crying.”

Oh God.  I really needed to buy waterproof mascara.  My hands flew to my face, trying to wipe away any evidence of my earlier breakdown in the car.

“Talk to me, Ray.”

“Nothing, it’s just my mom.”

“Okay… what’d she say?”

“Basically that I was an abomination to the sanctity of marriage.  That kind of thing.  She was terrible, even worse than normal.  Ever since our dad died, she’s just… I don’t know… been different to us.  Like his cancer was our fault.”

He rubbed my back and sat me down on the loveseat, placing my legs in his lap.  He glided his fingers across my calves.  Ugh.  Forgot to shave today.

“She called you a vulture.”  I smiled up at him.  “Said that you were preying on my weakness.”

“Wow.  Harsh.”  He brushed his lips against mine.

“Yeah.”  I shifted my legs and straddled his lap.  I ran my fingers through his messy hair, grinding my hips into his.

“Hey,” he murmured.  “Do you want to talk?”

“Do you?”

He answered by pulling the hem of my dress and tugging upward.

He took his time with me.

He touched me everywhere.

He kissed every inch.

He whispered everything.

I arched my back and closed my eyes, hoping it would never end, needing to wash this day away.

*

Vince and I spent Sunday morning in bed.

“So, tell me more about Chicago.  What did Jack say?”

I faced him, tracing down the center of his chest with my fingertips.  “He said he knew.”

He smiled.  “He asked me before I left.  I didn’t say anything, but it was pretty obvious, I guess.  He wasn’t upset, right?”

“Oh, no, not really.  I think he was a little disappointed that you didn’t heed his warnings about staying away from me and my vixen ways…”  Now I was the one smiling.  “He said that he didn’t want you to fall in love with me… because I was Ryan’s.”

I felt his stomach tense.  “I wish it wasn’t like this.  I wish that I had just met you at some stupid party and that you were never married.”  He touched my cheek and leaned in, gently pressing his lips to mine.  “I don’t want this to be complicated for you.”

“I know.  Me too.”  I thought about what my mother had said.  She never recovered from my father.  Looking down at my own ring still decorating my left hand, I wondered when I might be ready to say goodbye.

To put it in a drawer.

To end that chapter of my life with Ryan.

To move on with Vince.

I raked my hand lightly through his thick hair.  “You need a haircut, sir.”

“I know.  I just never get around to it.”  He paused.  “You alright?  You just looked a little serious business there for a minute.”

I moved closer, our faces only a few inches apart.  Vince wrapped his arm around my waist.  “Does it bother you that I wear a wedding ring?”

“No.  I guess it might if we were talking about getting married, but I know you’re not ready for that.”

“You’re not either.  We just started this.”

“Honey, I would go downtown and get a license tomorrow if you would.  But I am trying not to scare the shit out of you.”  He smiled.  “So I’ll wait until you decide to put it away.  Then I’ll ask.  Hopefully, you’ll say yes.”  He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

I buried my head in his neck.  What if he tired of me before I was ready?  What if he found someone else that would say yes?  The thought made my stomach twist.

He whispered in my ear, “I can’t wait to wear your ring on my finger.”

A moment later, the doorbell rang.  I looked at Vince.  “Are you expecting someone?”  Generally, people didn’t make a habit of dropping in.  I rarely had visitors.

“Who do I know here?”  He had a point.

I pulled on the sundress I wore the night before and grabbed a cardigan to throw over it.  I couldn’t find my bra.  Vince fastened his jeans and stretched an old Pixies t-shirt over his head.  I hurried down the steps and unlocked the door.

“Oh, wow… Linda!”

Ryan’s mother.

Chapter Thirteen

Was this really happening?

“My precious girl,“ she crooned.  “I’ve missed you so.  You look so beautiful… and you got a new haircut.”  I touched my head instinctively, nervously.

“Yeah… and I’ve missed you too.”  I hugged her hard.  I did miss her.  Ryan’s family was close.  They were the reason we moved to Indianapolis.  He grew up in Carmel, about twenty minutes north of our house.  My house now.

“I’m so sorry to barge in on you like this.  I should have called, but I didn’t know if you would answer.”

“Of course I would have answered.”  I wasn’t positive that I would have.

“I know, honey, but we all suffered a tragedy and I know how people are.  They hide away and I just didn’t want to miss an opportunity to see you.”

Vince appeared in the stairwell.  He had to know by now that Linda was our visitor.  It’s not like he could hide up there.  Could he?

“Hi, Mrs. Stephens.”  He paused and walked towards her.  “I don’t know if you remember me…”

She cut him off.  “Vincent...  Of course.”  She looked over to me and back to him.  “What are you doing here, sweetheart?”

“Well, I recently relocated to Indianapolis for a job and Rachel was nice enough to let me stay here until my rental is ready.  I move in next Friday.”  His answer was practiced.

“Oh my goodness, how delightful.  Well, we must celebrate.  Why don’t the two of you come to our house tonight for dinner?  Walter would love to see you both.”

“No, Linda, that’s okay.  We couldn’t.”

“I insist.  We need to celebrate Vincent’s new job and catch up.  We can order in.  No cooking.”  She smiled at me, her lips painted a bright coral shade against her white teeth.

Linda Stephens was a wealthy woman and, thanks to monthly injections, a beautiful one at that.  She wore her thick bottle-blonde hair in a chignon at the nape of her neck.  Her scent was Chanel No. 5.

I looked to Vince for guidance.  Help, help, help.

“What time?”  What?  What was he doing?

“Why don’t we say 7:00?  I am just delighted that you can come.  And, Rachel?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to visit… Walter and I have been coping in different ways, but that’s no excuse.  I should have been here with you every day.”

Do not cry.  Do not cry.  Do not cry.  A few tears dropped to my cheeks.  I wiped them away, carefully, trying my best to mask my emotion.  “It’s okay, Linda.  We’ll see you tonight.”  She needed to leave.  I wasn’t ready for another breakdown.  Didn’t I just have one of those yesterday?

She walked to me and wrapped her arms around my back, placing her chin on my shoulder.

“My little girl.”

She squeezed and rocked me gently.

Oh God.  Just go.  Just go.

Linda pulled away, clearing her throat and brushing her hands to her hips.  “Now then… much to do.  Vincent, what do you drink?”

“Whatever you have, ma’am.”

“Well, I’ll just get a little of everything, then.”  She walked over and placed a light kiss on Vince’s cheek.  “Oh, my, you have grown up into a lovely man.  And Ryan was so envious of you.  You were always quite the charmer.”  She winked at me.  Did she know something?

“Au revoir, my sweet children.  See you in a few hours.”

I closed the door and clicked the lock behind her.  What the fuck was I supposed to tell her?

*

The car ride was silent.  I didn’t have much to say to Vince.  Why would you do this to me?  Why are you sabotaging this?

He lay his hand on my thigh.  I shrugged it off.  “Don’t.”

“What’s the matter?”  He ran a hand through his thick hair.  “She doesn’t know about us, babe.”

“Are you so sure?  You tell her that I was ‘nice enough’ to let you stay with me?  I wanted to die.”

“Don’t say that.  She’s one person, Rachel.  One.  She was your mother-in-law… but not now.”

“She will always be my mother-in-law, Vince.”  I was quiet.

“Just trust me.  I’m not trying to ruin your life.”  His eyes were straight ahead.  “This isn’t a ploy.  Jesus.”

“God, Vince, don’t be such a drama queen.”  I folded my arms across my chest.  I was pouting.

“Me?  You’re the one that has been fiddling with your fucking fingernails for the last ten minutes… not talking.  You’re making a way bigger deal about this than we need to.  So what if his parents want to host us for a dinner?  It’s one dinner.  They’re just people.”

“They were my people!”

“Were, Ray.  Were your people.  She said it herself, she hasn’t called you or come by once since Ryan died.”

“Her son died.  Think she’s been sitting around wondering what everyone else is up to?”

“You were his wife.  So, yeah, I would have thought she would have bothered.”

I sat silent.  We were close now; the house was coming into view.  It seemed so cold from the outside.  Long driveway, white brick, thoroughly manicured garden that started just past the black wrought iron gate.  I shifted in my seat, rubbing the top of the bottle of wine I had brought for them.  It was an expensive choice for me, over twenty dollars.  Now, it just seemed cheap.  I debated leaving it in the car.  We parked my small, ten year-old Volvo and sat for a minute.

He reached over and held my hand in his.  “I could fake the mumps or something.”  He smiled.

“I’m pretty sure people don’t get mumps anymore.”  I rubbed his thumb with mine.

“You look so beautiful.”  His eyes drifted down to my short, yellow skirt.  It was a high-waisted A-line style and had a layer of crinoline underneath.  I could feel it scratching the backs of my thighs.  He moved his thumb to my waist, gently rubbing the side of my white tank top.

I pulled at my long necklace.  “Let’s go.”

Linda answered the door and placed her hand to her heart.  “Babies,” she cooed.

“Hi, Linda.”  I handed her the wine.  “I brought this, but it’s probably not very good.”  Did I need to vocalize every thought?

“Oh, I’m sure it’s wonderful.  Shiraz.  My favorite.”  She paused.  “And you both look so lovely.  You match!”

We did.  It wasn’t on purpose.  Vince was wearing a white fitted t-shirt and black jeans with low top butter-colored Chuck Taylors.  They were the same shade as my skirt.  I laughed, uncomfortably.  “Oh, yeah, I guess we do a little.”

“It’s sweet.  Now, come see Walter.  He’s at the grill.”

“I thought you said we weren’t cooking.  You went to too much trouble.”

“Nonsense.  I’m not cooking… Walter is.”  She gave me a sly smile.  “Who wants drinks?”

Oh God, did I.  We both nodded in unison.

“Rum and pineapple?  Jack and Coke?  Wine?  Beer?  We’ve got a little of everything.”

I rubbed my hands together, contemplating.  “Um… rum and pineapple.”

“I knew it.  Your favorite.  I picked up fresh pineapple juice today from that organic place.”

I nodded my head.  “Mmm.”

“Vincent?”  She turned to him.

“Oh, I’ll just have a beer.  Whatever you have.“

She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving us standing awkwardly in the sitting room.  I kept quiet.  Vince lightly touched the inside of my hand with his fingertips, brushing my palm.  I pulled away and started heading towards the kitchen.  “Linda?  Can I help you with anything?”

“No, darling.  Go see Walter.  He’s been waiting for you.”

I looked out the glass window, seeing my father-in-law busying himself at the grill.  People always told Ryan that he was the “spitting image” of his father.  This man looked like my husband.  I used to think it was cute.  Now, it was painful.  I would never see the man that Ryan would grow into.  He would never rub my back again or kiss me on the neck while I cooked dinner.

“Walter.”  I stood there, my feet planted.

He turned and faced me.  “Ray.”  He walked over slowly, opening his arms.  He squeezed me into them and held me tightly.  “Oh, we have missed you, kiddo.”  My eyes started to water.  I stared at a crack in the patio, willing the tears to dissipate.

I pressed my face into his shirt, effectively using it as a tissue.  Pulling back, I peered up at him.  “It’s so good to see you.”  Vince appeared in the doorway.  “Walter, do you remember Vince Conti?  He and Ryan went to Northwestern together.”

“Oh, yes,” he bellowed.  “From ‘Kiss Me Till Midnight,’ right?”  He laughed aloud.  Vince blushed.

I turned to him.  “Kiss Me Till Midnight?”

Vince rocked on his heels, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.  He was embarrassed.  “Yeah, that was the band’s name.”

I smiled.  “Ah.  How is this literally the first time I’ve ever heard that?  Ryan never told me the name.”

“I guess you never asked,” Vince replied.  He was right.  I should have hung on every word.  I should have told Ryan every day that I wanted to know everything.  I should have forgiven him.

Walter walked over to Vince and extended a hand.  Vince took it and gave him a hard grip.  “Good to see you, sir.”

“How’s that brother of yours?  I saw him at the thing.”  He couldn’t say funeral.  “But I didn’t get a chance to say hello.  I hope you’ll send our best to him.”

“I will, sir.”

“And cut out the ‘sir’ shit.  It’s a barbecue.”  He smiled and went back to the meat on the grill.  “I hope you like steak, Vince.  It’s Rachel’s favorite.”

“Is that right?”  He glanced over at me, giving me a bright, crooked grin.

“Oh yeah, this girl likes her meat.”

Vince shot me another look and mouthed a laugh at me without making a sound.  I rolled my eyes.

“Steak is great, Mr. Stephens.”

“No ‘sir’ and definitely no ‘Mr. Stephens.’  Just ‘Walter.’”

“Okay, Walter it is.”

Linda walked outside and handed us our drinks.  A Mary Pickford for me and a wheat beer in a tall glass for Vince.  I took a sip and winced.  As usual, Linda made a strong drink.

We sat and ate, catching up on their lives.  Walter’s work and Linda’s social calendar.  They asked about my work and Vince’s new job here.  Linda inquired about his new rental.  They were both surprised to hear that it was just up the road from mine.  I could feel a trickle of perspiration beading on my neck.  They knew we were too familiar.

A few hours later, we were saying our farewells in the drive.  Walter and Linda lingered at the car, hugging us, making plans.  It seemed, though, like they were saying goodbye goodbye.

*

Vince pulled into the garage a few minutes after 11.  He cut the engine and turned to me.  “Hey.”

“Hey.”

He placed his hand in my lap and laced my fingers in his.  “Come here.”

I leaned in and pressed my lips to his gently.  He opened his mouth a fraction and deepened the kiss.  How could I be turned on right now?  Hadn’t I just spent the last four hours with Ryan’s parents?  I parted my lips and curled my free hand around his neck, pulling him closer.  Breaking the kiss, he whispered, “Inside.  Let’s go.”

I practically ran into the house, throwing my bag on the kitchen counter.  Vince tossed the keys beside it and pulled me tight against him, moving his mouth against my neck.  He lifted my backside and deposited me onto the kitchen table.

Lifting my skirt, he gripped the sides of my lace boy shorts and slid them down my legs.  Moving his hands back up, he kneaded his fingers into the skin of my upper thighs, pushing my knees apart.

I reached for the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down.  I locked my eyes with his and rubbed him over his underwear, wrapping my left hand around his back to pull him closer.  He pressed his hand against my breastbone and pushed me into a laying position, sprawled across the table.  He pulled his jeans at the waist and dropped them to floor, kicking them out of the way, along with his shoes.  Gripping the outsides of my thighs, he pulled me towards him until we were touching.  He was so ready.  I had never been so turned on in my life.

He eased himself between my legs and pushed inside.  It always took a moment for my body to adjust to him… he was considerably larger than Ryan.  Much more substantial.  “Fuck…” he groaned.  He clenched my hips with his fingertips and drove into me.  Faster.  Splaying one hand over my abdomen, he pushed gently, causing something inside of me to come to life.  I propped up on my elbows and urged him on with my words.

“Yes… fuck me, Vince.  Harder.”

I didn’t even care if I sounded ridiculous.  I was way too turned on to care.

You like this?

Yes… oh fuck.

You want it harder?

Oh!

He pressed his hand lower, his thumb doing ungodly things, as he pushed into me harder.  Harder.  Harder.

Oh my God, Vince!

You close?

Yes!

I arched my neck and gave a low moan, dropping my elbows, lying back down.  I was seeing stars.  Literally seeing stars.

He stilled inside of me, my name on his lips, breathing raggedly.  He eased out and leaned up against me gently, his hands resting on the outsides of my thighs.  He placed light kisses on my stomach.

I was embarrassed now.  Who was that girl?  Certainly not a good girl raised by a Christian conservative mother.  That girl was a slut, fucking her husband’s friend on the dinner table, begging him to do it harder.  I sat up and pulled my skirt down, smoothing it with my hands.

“You okay?”  He pulled my chin with his fingers.

“Yeah…” I lied.  “Great.”  I gave him a weak smile and hopped off of the table, heading upstairs to the bedroom.  I needed to get out of this skirt.

Vince followed close behind.  He had pulled his briefs back on, but he was carrying his jeans.  He tossed them into the hamper.  I unzipped my skirt and slid it down my hips, tossing it in on top of his pants.

“How did you meet him?”

I turned to him.  “Who?”

“Ryan.”  He smiled.  “I don’t think he ever told me.  Just one day he started dating some random girl and the next thing, you were his wife.”

He was right.  Ryan and I met in early summer and were married by Christmas.  We didn’t even have a wedding; we just went to Maui.  None of our friends were invited, not even our parents.

“Um… well, we met in Chicago.  He had just graduated and was working for a small insurance firm in the Loop.  I was waiting tables while I finished my Master’s.  He came in with some co-workers for lunch and I waited on their table.”  I walked to the bathroom and grabbed my toothbrush from the holder, squeezing a little paste onto the tip.

“That’s it?”

I mumbled while brushing, “That’s it.”

“So, he got your number?”

“Yep,” I nodded and spit into the bowl.

“You knew?  Like he was ‘the one’ or something?”  He had an irritation to his voice.

“No.  I just thought he seemed sweet, so I gave him my number when he asked.”

“How long were you guys together?”

“Um, including dating?  I guess a little over five years.”

“You move here because his parents lived near?”

“Yeah, he missed them.  He was kind of tired of the city.  I guess I was too.  So after I graduated, we moved here.”

“Why didn’t you guys ever have kids?”  Ouch.  A blow.  Ryan had always wanted them.  I thought we needed to wait.

“I don’t know.  I wasn’t ready, I guess.”  I unhooked my bra and turned my back to him, sliding it down my arms.  I quickly replaced it with a short eyelet gown.

“Don’t you want them?”

I turned and faced him.  “I guess.  I don’t know.  I’ve still got time to decide, I suppose.”

“You’re 33.”  Fuck, he was hitting below the belt.

“So?  Carrie was 36 when she had Audrey.”

“I’m not saying you can’t have a baby after 33, Rachel.  I was just asking if you had thought about it.”

“Yes, I’ve thought about it,” I snapped.  We needed to stop talking about this.

“Honey,” he said, his face relaxed.  “Calm down.  I was just wondering.  I was curious.”

“About what?”

“It’s something people talk about, right?  We’re in a relationship.  I’m 35 years old.  If I want kids and you don’t, this is something that we need to discuss.”

The deal breaker.  He wants a child.

“So if I’m not ready, you’re just going to find someone who is?”

He climbed into bed.  “No, Ray.  We’re just having a conversation.  One that millions of people have when they finally meet the person that they want to spend the rest of their lives with.”

I breathed in slowly and climbed in next to him.  “Can’t we just slow down?”  I kissed his face.  “I’m trying, but I don’t know if I’m ready for all of that yet.”

He moved his body so that he was on top of me, curling his arm around my waist.  “I know… and I am happy.   I told you that I would wait for you and I meant it.  I hope that it doesn’t take you ten years, but if it does…” he murmured, kissing my lips, “then I’ll wait ten years.”

I pulled him closer.  “I’m sorry I’ve been so weird tonight.  The minute I start to let myself be happy, I want to strip it all away.”  There it was.  The revelation.

“You deserve to be happy.  Are you?  With me?”  He moved down, his tongue sweeping my neck, just under my ear.

“Yes,” I breathed.

We made love again.  This time was different.  We studied each other, touched, kissed.  I fell asleep quickly after, Vince’s arms wrapped around me.

Chapter Fourteen

The week was closing.  Vince had been busy at the studio, staying late most days.  He got the keys to his place tomorrow.  He would be packing up and meeting the movers in the morning.  Jack and Jeremy were coming down tonight to help.  I was excited to see Jack.  Jeremy, on the other hand…

“Does that douchebag have to come here this weekend?”

Vince smiled.  “Well, it’s either that or I have to get you and your friends to help.”

“I can have Carrie ask Rick or something.”

“I’m not asking your friend to make her husband schlep boxes.  That’s a bitch move.  Besides, between Jack and Jeremy, they’ll have me moved in before lunch.”  He leaned in and pressed a wet kiss to my lips.

“I’ll miss you not being here.”  Why did I say that?  Stop looking needy, Rachel.

“Just say the word, babe, and I will reroute the movers.”  He studied me.  “I mean it.”

“No, it’s fine.  I’m just being whiny.  Your new place has such a great yard.  You should get a dog.”

“Do you want a dog?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not going to get a dog.”  He winked at me.  “Remember.  Six months.”

I rolled my eyes at him, folding his laundry.  “Why am I the one always stuck washing your crap?”

He took the half folded t-shirt from my hands and threw it on the couch, wrapping his arms around me.  “Because you love me.”

“You’re lucky I do.”

His eyes looked serious.  “I am.”

“Should we eat?  I’m hungry,” I declared.

“Whatever you want.”

“It’s the Last Supper.  It should be whatever you want.”  I picked up the t-shirt and started over.

“Ray, it’s not the ‘Last Supper.’  You’re being dramatic.”

I was.  “Well, living in two different places means that I won’t see you as much.  Between work and everything else, you know, you will be busy or whatever.”

“Honey, look at me.  I will be here every night.  We will eat dinner together every day, just like we do now.  We will watch television together, read books in bed, talk about whatever you want…”  He stood behind me now, pressing his erection into my back.  Oh God.  “Fuck wherever… and whenever we want.”  He pulled on my hips, crushing my back to his front.  “We have an hour before the guys get here.”

I didn’t want to be such a tramp.  I really didn’t.  But I really did.

I leaned back and craned my neck to meet his lips, wrapping my arm around the back of his head.  I moaned quietly into his mouth when he bit my lip.  His left hand moved to my breast, his palm rubbing roughly across my cotton dress.  His right trailed between my legs.  “Put your hands on the couch.”

I followed his request, gripping the arm of the sofa.  Vince lifted the back of my dress and pressed a finger to my thong, moving it lazily back and forth over the satin material.  He pulled up on the strap, causing friction.  I let out a short cry.  He pulled at it again, this time moving the material to the side and slid the same finger inside of me.  Oh!  He leaned into my back and kissed along my spine.  “I can’t wait any longer.”

I heard the sharp sound of his zipper.  Curling his right arm around my waist, he pushed into me.  Hard.  “Ahhh!”  I cried aloud.  God, could every time feel better than the last?  He moved slowly at first, building momentum.  He placed his left hand on my shoulder, his right at my hip.  His fingers dug into my side.

“Too hard?”  He squeezed my shoulder.

“No… harder.”  I was being a total slut.

He started to move then, his pace more frantic.  He pulled at my dress, lifting it higher, exposing my back.  He ran his fingers across my ink.  “You look so fucking hot right now,” he whispered.  I could feel his tongue on my back, licking across the base of the tree.  When he bent, his angle changed inside.  I was close to peaking.

“Oh God, Vince… I think I’m gonna…”

He pushed harder, cupping his hand between my legs.  I screamed my release, gripping firmly on the outside of the sofa.

If the neighbors didn’t know Vince’s name, they probably did now.

He was close.  I could tell; his movements changed.  He was worked up, frenetic.  “God, Rachel…”  He went motionless, panting roughly, his breath catching.  He rested his head on my back, his body limp.  He pressed a few warm kisses there and pulled out of me slowly, turning me to face him.  He crushed his lips to mine, sweeping his tongue into my mouth.  I returned his kiss, gripping his neck, digging my fingernails there.  We kissed like that for a few moments; I pulled back, gasping for air.

“Where did that come from?”  I smiled and lightly brushed my swollen lips with my fingertips.

“I don’t want to go.”

I knew what he meant.  “You have to.  We need a little space.”  I wasn’t sure why.  We had already told everyone except Vince’s parents about us.  God, I really needed to meet them at some point.  Kill me now.

“What do you mean?  You need space from me?”

“That’s not what I meant… I just think that separate places will be good for us.  Just for a while.”

The doorbell rang.  Shit.  They were early.

I quickly smoothed my dress and checked the pins in my hair.  I patted my cheeks twice.  “I look okay?”

Vince zipped his pants.  “You look beautiful.”  He smiled.  “Rosy cheeked and thoroughly fucked.”

“Vince!”  I snapped at him, a smile forming at the side of my lips.

I opened the door to a beaming Jack.  “Jack!”  I looked behind him.  “No Jeremy?”

“He’s getting our bags.”

Ugh.

“Great.  Well, come on in,” I replied, my voice full of cheer.

“You look good, Rach.”  He looked me up and down.  “Something’s different.”

Yes, your brother just fucked the daylights out of me thirty seconds before you got here.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Huh.  Well, you look good anyway.”  He pulled me into a brief hug.

“Thanks, Jack.”  That was sweet.

“Bro-seph!”  He walked to Vince and clapped him on the back.

“Brotha Jack.  How’s tricks?”

“Oh, can’t complain, can’t complain.  That thing with Lana’s all worked out.”  Jack scratched the back of his head.

“Good to hear, man.  Anything else going on?  Where’s Buster?  I figured you would bring him with.”

Jack glanced over to me.  “Actually, he’s staying with Elsa this weekend.  She’s taking care of him.”

What?  Since when was he talking to Elsa?  And how familiar would they have to be in order for her to be dog-sitting?

The door cracked open and Jeremy came in carrying two bags.  “Hey there, chum.  And hey to you, beautiful.”  He tipped his head, locking his eyes to mine.  I shivered inwardly.

“Hello, Jeremy,” I responded.  I wasn’t about to encourage him with a hug.

“Jere,” Vince mumbled.

“Well, you guys, why don’t you put your stuff upstairs?  I have the spare room made up and there’s an air mattress blown up in the office.”

When they disappeared at the top of the stairwell, Vince pulled me close.  “We don’t need space.  I promise that once I move, things will go back to normal.  You can have your girls over and drink margaritas or whatever the fuck you guys do,” he smiled, continuing, “and I can watch all of the sports I want on my giant TV… at my own place.”  His lips trailed at my neck.  “When you are feeling lonely, you can come over and watch my giant TV too.”

“Okay,” I said, peering up at him.

“Love you.”  He kissed the top of my head.

Jeremy trampled down the stairs.  “You fucks wanna go get a beer or what?  Let’s get pissed.”

Ugh.

Vince answered for us.  “Yeah, sure.  There are a bunch of places in the Village.”  He looked at me.  “Tavern?  Brewpub?”

“Either is fine.”  I continued to smooth my dress, pulling at the back.  “Let’s go.”

*

We had to meet the movers at 10 am.  Ugh.  Hung-over and moving?  Vince didn’t have much at my place.  Just his toiletries and a duffle bag full of clothes.  He insisted on leaving it there.  He was spending the night with me anyway.

“Vince, you’re probably going to want to stay at the new place, don’t you think?”

“No, I want to stay where you are.  If you aren’t spending the night with me, I don’t really want to stay there.”

Swoon.

“We have five thousand things to do today.  You aren’t going to want to leave.”

“Ray, if you don’t want me to stay, say so.”  His tone was clipped.

I rolled my eyes at him.  “Forget it.  You always take whatever I say out of context.”  I paused.  “I have a headache.”

“Do you think that it’s from the six pints you had?  Or the two Jager shots?”

Smart ass.

“Whatever, I just don’t want to fight with you today.”  I crossed my arms over my chest.  Definitely pouting.

“Who’s fighting?”  He squeezed me around my waist and lowered his lips to mine.

I kissed him briefly.  “Fine.”  I huffed.  He laughed.

We walked to his new house.  I should have driven.  It was two blocks, but I was fucking shredded.  I couldn’t believe that we had to unpack boxes all day.  Blech.

The movers were there, leaning up against the truck, having a cigarette.  “Hey guys,” I murmured.  They nodded.  “You think I could have one of those?”

The taller of the two fished a cigarette pack out of his pocket and handed me one.  He lit it for me, using a Kiss lighter.  I sat on the porch and smoked it, watching the guys move box after box, shuffling past me on the porch.  I should probably move.  Eh, it hurts too much to move.

“Baby, get in here and check this out,” Vince shouted.

I crushed my cigarette against my shoe and carried it inside, looking for a trash can.  “What?”

“In here.”  Bedroom, maybe?  I followed his voice.

I walked into an empty room.  He closed the door behind me and pinned me against it, his mouth drawing down on mine.  His breath was coming fast, his hand moving under my t-shirt.  “Vince,” I breathed.

“I can’t wait to fuck you here later… when everyone is gone.”  He kissed me slow.  “And it’s just me…” Another kiss.  “And you…”

I pushed him away, placing my hands on his chest, letting out a short laugh.  “What’s wrong with you?”

“What?  I just wanted to show you my new room.  It’s where the magic happens.”

“Oh, boy.”  I opened the door and shot him a look.  “Behave.”

He made a jolt after me, smacking me on the behind.  I was way too hung-over for this.

*

We unpacked box after box and assembled mountains of furniture.

“Ugh,” I groaned.  “This sucks.”

“We’re done now, babe.”  He paused.  “Hey, Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“Talked to my mom yesterday.”

Oh, boy.

“Yeah?”

“She wants to come down.  She and my dad were thinking next weekend.”

Oh God, oh God, oh God.  What if they hated me?

“Oh, to see your new place?  That’s nice.  You should make dinner or something.”

“They’re coming down to meet you.”

Pressure, pressure, pressure.

“Oh.  Well, I’d like to meet them, so… that’s good.”  What was I supposed to say?

He walked over and gave me a quick hug.  “They’re going to love you.  I do and Jack does.”  He held my face in his hands.  “You remind me of her.  My mom.  She’s selfless, just like you.”

“Thank you.”  My voice was low.  “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Good.  They get here Friday night.”

Oh.

*

I was tired, falling asleep on Vince’s couch.  When I woke, I heard Vince in the kitchen with Jeremy, their voices low.

Vince was upset.  “What the fuck are you talking about, man?”

“I’m just saying, if you two aren’t exclusive, I wouldn’t mind taking a crack at her.”

“Are you kidding me right now?  Rachel?  My Rachel?”  Oh yeah, he was pissed.

“I didn’t think she was yours, mate.  Not by the way she acted in Chicago.”

Um, no.  I needed to end this, wherever it was going.

I walked in and put my arm around Vince’s waist.  “What happened in Chicago, Jeremy?”

Jeremy smiled and faced me.  “Well, hello, love.”

“What happened in Chicago, Jeremy?” I repeated.

He turned to Vince this time.  “You know how she is, man.  She was gagging for it.  Hell, she had a hump with you a week after you met, so why would you think that she was such a good girl?  She’s like a peach, this one.  Ready to burst.”

Vince stood and took a swing, connecting with Jeremy’s chin.  He stayed standing, but took a step back, smiling.  He lightly massaged his jaw.

“Get out of my fucking house,” Vince growled.

“She tastes like fucking honey, am I right?”  Jeremy swiped his bag from the floor and headed towards the door.  “And she sucks like a fucking porn star.”

Why was he doing this?  He had never even touched me.

“Out.”  Vince stepped out of my grasp, walking to the door.  “Now.”

Jeremy smiled again.  He turned his back to us and shut the door behind him.

“What the fuck is he talking about, Rachel?”

Are you kidding me?

“I have no idea, Vince.  I’ve never even touched him.  When we were in Chicago, he got my sister drunk and then tried to fuck her while Jack and I were having a cigarette on the front porch.  That’s about the extent of my ‘time’ with Jeremy.  I had to pull him off of her.”

“Then what?”

“Then what, what?”

“What happened after that?”  He was terse, angry.

“Nothing!”

“Did Jack take you home?”

“Elsa got sick so we spent the night.”

He ran a hand through his hair and walked into the bedroom, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.  I followed, sitting close to him.

“Nothing happened, babe.”  I rubbed his back.  “You have to believe me.”

He placed his hand on my thigh, rubbing his thumb across my skin.  “Okay.”

“Okay?”  I locked my eyes with his.  “I mean it.  Nothing.  Elsa and I slept in Jack’s room and he slept on the couch.”

“I know... I believe you.  That guy’s a dick.  I’ll talk to Jack.  He’ll be gone by Monday.”  He stroked my leg with his fingers.  I could feel him softening.  “I wonder why he would say those things.”

“I don’t know.  Is he jealous of you?”  I thought about it.  “Maybe he just doesn’t like me.”

He didn’t answer.  “Let’s just go to your house.  I don’t know where anything is here, so we would just be fumbling around trying to find shit.”

“Okay.”  I paused.  “Where is Jack, by the way?”

“He went to your place while you were taking your nap.  He felt rougher than you did, I think.”

“Think Jeremy is going to go there to try to get a ride back from him?”

“Not if he’s smart, he won’t.  He’ll get the first fucking bus back to Illinois.”

Chapter Fifteen

Jack was sitting on the couch when we got back, playing some sort of zombie game on the Xbox.  “Take that, you fucker!”

“Hey, Jack,” Vince called.  “Turn that off, will you?”

Jack clicked pause on the game.  “What?”

“Jeremy come back here?”

“No, I figured he was with you guys.”

“Nope.  Hey, uh, he basically told me that he fucked Rachel.”

I tensed.

Jack shot up.  “What?”

“Oh yeah, he said that she did it on her trip to Chicago when she saw you guys.  Said she was like a peach.”  He looked at me.  “Ready to burst.”

“Um… unless you count him trying to dry hump Elsa against a wall while Rachel and I were outside, then I would say he was mistaken.  They got to our place after 10 and were asleep by midnight.  Elsa spent half of it chucking her fucking guts out in the bathroom, so there wasn’t a whole lot of time for that.”

Vince looked agitated.  I hadn’t ever seen him look like that before.  “He’s gotta go.  When you get back home, throw his shit out on the patio.  I mean it.”

“He’s already scheduled to move at the end of the month, but as soon as I get back, he’s gone.”  Jack stood.  “You alright, man?”

“No, I’m not fucking alright.  He just told me that he fucked my girlfriend and that she sucked him off, so no, I’m not alright.”  He was practically shouting.

I winced.  “Vince,” I whispered.

He turned to me.  “What?”

“I didn’t do that.  I wouldn’t do that.  You know it.”

“I know, Ray.  I just don’t want anyone to talk about you like that.”  His voice was softer, vulnerable.

I laced my fingers in his.  “Hey.”

He turned and dipped his head to kiss me.  “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Hey, you guys, I’m gonna take off.  You need time alone or whatever.”  Jack looked visibly uncomfortable.

I turned to him.  “Stay.  I’m going to make dinner and then we are going to have a little family feast.”  I clapped my hands together.  “It’s going to be epic.”  I smiled at both brothers.

*

“So, Ms. Stephens, Vince tells me that you are going to meet the parental units next weekend.”

I concentrated my eyes on the wok in front of me, running a wooden spoon back and forth over my chicken and vegetables.  “Yeah, so he tells me.”

Jack laughed.  “You’re gonna like them.”

“He said that too.”

Vince put his arms around my waist, dipping his chin into the crook of my neck.  Sometimes Ryan did that.  “They are going to love you, mama.”

Jack sipped a beer at the counter.  “They will, Rach.  You’re like our mom a bit.”

Huh.  Vince had said that too.

He continued.  “Yeah, she’s all Betty Homemaker and shit.  She’s a nurturer… like you.”  He tipped his bottle and gave me a close-lipped smile.

“Thank you.”  I stared into my pan.  “Do I call them Mr. and Mrs. Conti or Isabelle and Anthony?”  I looked up now, searching for guidance.

Vince laughed.  “Definitely not Mr. and Mrs. Conti.  And my mom goes by Belle.”

“Oh… that’s pretty.”  It was.  I always secretly wished that I had a pretty name like Belle.  Rachel was so… eh.  “And your dad?  Does he go by Tony?”

“No,” both men said in unison, laughing.

“What?  Is that a weird question?”

“No,” Jack answered, “it’s just that his dad was Tony and he hated his dad, so…”

“Ah, gotcha.”  I turned the burner off and pulled out plates.  “Vince, can you set?”

“Yep..”  He leaned in and kissed me, giving my backside a slow pull, sending a burn through my belly.

Jack stifled a smile.

I turned to him.  “What?”

“Nothing… I guess I just never pictured Vince to be so domesticated.  Don’t get me wrong… I love it.  He’s finally got a girl that I like.  Not like that crazy bitch.”

Melora.  I almost forgot about her.

Vince flinched noticeably.  I saw it in his face.  “Let’s not say ‘the M word’ at the dinner table, huh, Jackie?”

“I’m just saying, this is great.  I can tell it’s real.  I like it.”

“It is real,” Vince answered.  “I’m gonna marry her.”

Now it was my turn to flinch.  “Whoa, cowboy.  Let’s just try to get through chicken without getting hitched.”  My face was heated.  I could feel my cheeks burning.  The worst part?  I could picture all of it.  A small wedding, family, friends, a baby.  It was terrifying.

*

Dinner with Vince was always great.  Dinner with Vince and Jack was fantastic.  They talked endlessly, laughed a lot and told stories about growing up.  Belle was a high school music teacher, but had retired a few years back.  Anthony owned his own business; he was a tailor and had been since the boys were young.  He was also in a fairly well-known jazz band when he was younger, playing all over Chicago.  He still played now, but mostly fill-ins, according to Vince.

“So, is that where you two got your interest in music?  I don’t even know what you play, Jack.”

“Well, a little bit of everything, I guess, but in the band, I played bass.  My dad played the stand-up, so that’s what I first learned.  Then he bought me a bass guitar and taught me how to play that.  But my mom’s real love was piano, so she pushed that shit on both of us.”

“He’s being modest.  He was the fucking singer of the band.  And a great singer at that,” he answered, beaming at his younger brother.  “But yeah, she pretty much made us practice until our fingers bled.”

“You never told me you played piano.  Only guitar.”

“You never asked.”

I really have to get better at that.

“Are you any good?”

“I guess,” Vince answered.  “I haven’t played in years, but I can still read music.  It’s not like I could fit a piano in any of my apartments to practice.”

“I have one,” I blurted.

“Where?”

“It’s in storage.  My dad played and when he died, my mom put it in a unit.  I think she just missed him too much and it reminded her of him.”

“I thought he died like twenty years ago.”

“He did, but my mom didn’t want it near her, I guess.  So, it’s just basically sat in that place this whole time.  Anyway, she told me I could have it if I wanted, but I just never got it moved.  It’s still in Naperville.”

“Let’s have it shipped,” he said immediately.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.”

“Um, okay.  I guess I could call the storage facility and have something worked out.”

“This week… I’ll pay.”

“Why this week?”

“I haven’t played for my mom in a million years.  She would love it.”

I smiled.  “Okay, it’s done.  I’ll call Monday.”

*

Jack headed back to Chicago on Sunday morning after breakfast.  He had told us that morning that he was thinking of selling his house in Edgewater… said it was “too far from everything.”  I wondered if “everything” was code for “Elsa.”

Vince and I decided to go to his apartment for the day and spend some time putting things away.  We also toyed with the idea of painting his bedroom.

I had once read about painting rooms the color of the sky so that it would mimic a beach.  He said that blue was for little boys and he needed an adult color.  We settled on a shade of dark gray called “Kendall Charcoal.”  We also needed to repaint his trim white.  It looked as though it hadn’t been touched up for at least a few tenant cycles.

We stared at the ceiling, lying on his bed.

“Do we have to paint today?”  He was whining.

“No, I just said that we could if you wanted.  You think I want to paint?  Sheee-ah.  I hate painting more than I hate moving.”

“Let’s get a fucking Groupon and have someone else do it.”

“I like where your head’s at, Conti.  Want to watch TV or something?”

“I have a better idea,” he whispered, rolling towards me.  He placed a light kiss to my shoulder.  “We could spend the day doing house stuff… or…”

He trailed his fingers down my stomach, stopping at the button on my shorts.  He popped it open and slowly ran his fingertips under the elastic of my underwear.

I propped up on my elbows and stayed silent, watching his movements.  He slid off of the bed and kneeled in front of me, dragging the cotton down my legs and over my wedges, dropping them at the floor.

“Why are you wearing high heels on painting day, baby?”  He brushed the insides of my thighs with his lips.

“They aren’t high heels,” I breathed, noting that my voice went a little high.  “They’re just… wedges.”  Yeah, definitely an octave higher.

“Well,” he said, “they are staying on.”

Vince pulled at my underwear, taking his time with them.  Teasing me.  Dragging them down my thighs inch by inch.  Oh God, oh God, oh God.  “You make me so hard, Rachel.  I could come without touching you.”

I stared down at him.  “Please.”  What was I begging for?

“Please what, honey?”  He pulled the last inch of material, sending it on top of my shorts.

I breathed heavier, but stayed silent.

“Please what, Ray?  You want me to do this?”  He placed one light kiss on the inside of my thigh.

“Yes.”

“Or this?”  He brushed his lips to the other side.

“Yes.”  Oh God, just get on with it, Vince!

“Or this?”  He took his time, torturing me with his tongue and lips, working my body into a frenzy.  He pushed his fingers into me slowly… he was making me absolutely nuts.  I gripped his hair, threw my heeled feet over his shoulders and screamed his name.  Oh, I knew I was being a huge slut.

I never acted like this with Ryan.  Never.  What the hell was wrong with me?

He rose to his feet, keeping my ankles elevated on his shoulders, pushing the backs of my thighs with his hands.  He slid into me slowly.  This position was almost uncomfortable.  Not so uncomfortable that I made him stop.  Oh, no, of course not.

He went slowly at first, pushing my legs back an inch at a time.  “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” I lied.  Really, I would rather have my legs wrapped around him.  I wasn’t used to all of this yoga stretching nonsense.

He pushed deeper.  Oh, gotcha.  This is why people did this.  I felt him everywhere, practically in the back of my throat.  I whimpered a little.

He stilled.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, you’re just a little… big.”

He smiled.  Oh, God.  Way to go, Rachel.  Like he needs more encouragement.

“Well,” he said, sliding back in, “you let me know if I’m too big for you.”  He let out a short laugh.  That was it.  The last time I ever said that.

He was gentle with me, pushing in ever so slightly, but going deeper with every movement.  I was getting used to the angle, but it was more demanding than any other time we had been together.  Not that it wasn’t good.  It was always good.  Like so astonishingly good.

He increased his pace just slightly lifting my behind higher off of the bed, cupping it with his hands to place me where he wanted.  “This good, Rachel?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Tell me.”

Oh God, not this again.  Didn’t he know that the talking embarrassed me?  Well, I guess sometimes it didn’t.

“Yes, it’s good, Vince.”

He pushed harder.  “Yeah, just good?”

Faster.

“Oh... Really good!”

Harder and faster.  This time, he added his hand, coarse against me at the same pace… Oh, Jesus Christ.

“Fuck,” I blurted.

“You feel so good, Ray.”  He breathed into my skin, licking up the side of my calf.  “You taste so incredible.”  I could feel him swelling.  “I’m not gonna last.”

He lifted me up another couple of inches, elevating me off of the bed, gripping my hips.  I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, my body convulsing.  “Vince!”

He let my legs go; they fell naturally to the sides of the bed.  Oh, sweet relief.  He got close to my face, his body now lying directly on top of mine, pushing his hips into me.  Lightly biting my ear, he whispered, “I love you so much.”  He groaned one last time and gripped at my shoulders, his body silent except for his chest contracting with shallow breaths.

He finally looked up, propping his elbow on the bed, still lying on me.  “Our first room christening.”  He was smiling big, his dimple showing.

I patted him on the back.  “Yes, honey.  Now get off of me.  You weigh a ton.”

“I do not.  I’m only 185 pounds.”

Whoa, really?  “How fucking tall are you?”

He laughed.  “You know how tall I am, baby.  You can see me, right?”

“I’m really bad at that kind of thing.”

“Eh, six foot two.  I don’t know, maybe three.”  He kissed my neck and eased out of me, rolling to my side.

“Isn’t that like super low body weight?”

He laughed again.  “Um, I don’t think so.  No doctor has ever said anything.  I’ve always been like this.  I’ve never really thought about it.”

I was thinking about it now.  I was five feet, two inches.  152 pounds.  Was he really only 33 pounds heavier than me?  And a foot taller?  God, I needed to hit the fucking treadmill.  I had always been this weight.  Since junior high, maybe before.  It had bothered me a bit from time to time, not in clothes so much, but definitely getting naked.  Ryan had always liked my body, so it hadn’t bothered me enough to make life altering changes, like actually getting a gym membership.

“Oh.  Well, okay.”  I sat up, pulling down my t-shirt.  I leaned over the bed, reaching to find my underwear and shorts.

“Hey,” he pulled at my shirt.  “Come here.”

I nabbed my underwear off of the floor and pulled them up.  I faced him, still sitting.  “What?”

“What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you told me I was heavy and then we talked about my weight for like five seconds and then you wouldn’t look at me.”

“You’re 33 pounds heavier than me.”  Did I literally just tell him how much I weighed?

He smiled.  “So?  You’re the fucking hottest girl I’ve ever been with.  Who cares that I’m 30 pounds heavier than you?”

“33.  And a foot taller.”

“Rachel.  Stop.”  He placed a hand to my shoulder.  “I love you.  I don’t look at you as some sort of number.  You are fucking hilarious.  You’re smart.  You’re an architect, for Christ’s sake.  You’ve got like an actual career.  You love your friends.  You’d do anything for them… for me… for my brother.  You volunteer.  You’re a great fucking cook.  You dress like you’re going to a cocktail party when you go to Target.”  He looked up at me.  “You are my dream girl.  I mean it.”

I kissed him.  Wet and long.  Then I showed him how much I thought that he was my dream guy too.

Chapter Sixteen

I sat near the window, continuously looking out.  They were supposed to arrive around 6 pm.  It was 6:20 now.

“Get away from the window, Ray.  You look like a stalker,” Vince joked.

“Stop.  I’m nervous.”  I stood and rubbed my hands together.  “Like really nervous.  What if they hate me?”

“Can you hear yourself?”  He smiled.

“Come on, my own mother doesn’t even like me.”  It was true.

“Now you’re being ridiculous.  She’s just mad right now.  She’ll be fine in a month.”

He hadn’t met my mother.  She could make holding a grudge into a fine art.  Once, when I was five, I decided that I wanted to cut my own bangs.  I did.  When she saw me, she took those scissors and cut the remaining hair I had to about an inch all over.  I went to school that way.  That’s how she taught me and Elsa “life lessons.”

I went back to the window.  They were pulling up in a silver sedan.  I ran to the bathroom and checked my lipstick, my teeth, makeup, hair.  Was I too dressed up?  Would they think I was trying too hard?  I went through my wardrobe forty times and decided on a yellow and white striped, pleated dress with a thin yellow belt.  It was sleeveless and had a collar that mimicked the petals on a daisy.  When I picked it, I felt like it was an ideal choice.  Now, looking in the mirror, I felt like an idiot.

“Get out here, weirdo,” Vince called.

“I look stupid.”

“You look stupid hot, so come on.”

Ugh.  I joined him in the living room and placed my hands on my hips.  I didn’t know how to stand.  I had cast away all customary behavior.

“What the fuck are you doing?”  He smiled.  “Relax, Ray.  They’re two people.  And they’re not scary.  So get over here and act normal.”

“God…” I groaned.

Vince went to the door and opened it as they walked up.  I looked at the ground, focusing on breathing exercises.  In.  Out.  In.  Out.

“Hey, guys!”

“Oh my goodness, my sweet baby,” Belle responded, her Italian accent thick.  She placed her hands on his cheeks, taking him in.  It looked as if tears were forming.  She was dark skinned with dyed, espresso hair.  She, too, was wearing a dress.  Thank God.

“Belle, leave that boy alone.”  Anthony was tall like Vince, but broader.  He wore a Hot Doug’s Sausage Superstore t-shirt and a pair of loose fitting flap-pocket chinos.

Belle turned to me.  “And this must be your Rachel.”  Her voice cracked on my name.

“Yes, Mamma.  Rachel, this is my mom, Belle, and my dad, Anthony.”

“Hi,” I croaked, my voice giving out.  “So nice to meet you.”

Belle walked to me and placed her hands on the sides of my neck.  “Innamorata, you are the girl who brings my Vincent back to life.”

Whoa, that was a lot of pressure.  Note to self:  ask Vince later what “innamorata” means.  Oh God, it probably means adulterer.

“Thank you, Mrs. Conti.”

“No, my love, you call me Belle.”  She leaned into me and placed her head on my shoulder, wrapping her arms around me.  She rubbed my back slowly.

“Mamma, you’re gonna scare her,” Vince laughed.

She pulled away from me, her eyes glistening.  I felt my throat start to tighten.  She noticed.  “Oh, this is an emotional day for all of us, no?”  She looked me up and down.  “Look at Rachel, Anthony.  Is she not the most beautiful girl in the world?  She looks like a flower.  It’s no wonder our Vincent loves her so much.”

I felt my body flush.  I was sure that my cheeks were betraying me.

“Yes, love, she is, but you are gonna make that girl run away.  Let her go, Belle.  We are here all weekend.”  He patted her back.

“Okay, then.”  She took a deep breath and focused her eyes on me.  “I will try not to scare you, baby.  I am just so happy today.  I spent the last few months thinking about you.  What you would look like, how you would be with my son… would I see that look in his eye?  Were you the one for him?  And now, when I see you, I know.”

She ended it there.  Well?  Was I?

I squeezed her hands in mine.  “Thank you.”

Vince put his hand on her shoulder.  “Mamma, can we let Rachel go now?  Let’s drink something.  Papa, do you want a beer?”

“Yes, figlio, let’s drink.  Your mamma, she talk the whole way here.  She was so nervous that she changed that dress five times at home.”  He patted Vince on the back.

“I hear you talking about me, Anthony.  I still can’t believe you wore the hot dog t-shirt.  Rachel, I’m so embarrassed.  Look at my husband and this terrible sausage shirt.”

“I love Hot Doug’s,” I replied.

“See, Belle?  Some people understand the sausage.”  Anthony winked at me.

Belle rolled her eyes.  “Okay, marito, whatever you say.”

*

Vince made dinner.  Nonna Conti’s manicotti this time.  I wanted to take them out, but I had no idea what kind of food they liked.  Best to stick to the classics.  Besides, Vince was a really good cook.  I made cupcakes for dessert.  Chocolate with espresso ganache, a recipe that Elsa had taught me.  Vince could cook; I could bake.

“My, Rachel, that was a damn fine little cake,” Anthony said, patting his round belly.

“Thank you, Anthony.  Have as many as you’d like.”  It felt way too informal not calling him by his surname.  My mother would not have been proud.

Belle helped me with dishes while Vince and Anthony stared at the colossal TV.  “Do you want to go out back and have some wine, honey?  We can leave these boys in here.  It’s a nice night and I want to talk to the girl that both of my sons are gushing over.”  She smiled.

“That would be nice.”  I put a dishwasher tab in and pressed the start button.

Vince and I had gone to the liquor store the night before.  We stocked up on beer and wine; our selection was diverse.  “Belle, what kind of wine do you like?  I’ve got Chardonnay, Shiraz, Merlot…” my voice trailed off.

“Oh, my Rachel, I don’t care what kind.  The one with the most alcohol in it, okay?”  She rubbed my back and gave me a squeeze at my waist.  Was this what mothers were like?

I uncorked a bottle of Riesling and poured us two generous glasses.  When I filled them only halfway, Belle gave me a gesture with her hand, indicating that a fill to the top was in order.  We took our glasses and sat in the only two rocking chairs on the wood plank deck.  Vince had an obstructed view of the canal, but it was still beautiful at night.

“What a beautiful city.  I love that my Vincent ends up here.  He was just working that job, you know, in Chicago and that’s it.  He comes home, he has no life.”  She rocked back and forth.  “And your poor Ryan, he dies.  And Vincent, he has one more thing in his life that makes his heart sick.  So, he comes down here to mourn his friend.“

She reached over and placed her hand on mine.  “And he comes home like I’ve never seen him before.  He tells me nothing, but I know.  Something has happened to him.  I talk to my Jackie, he doesn’t tell me nothing.  So, I’ve gotta put a little more pressure on my baby.  You know Jackie, he’s an easy nut to crack.”

Pausing to sip her wine, she continued, “It turns out, Ryan has left a widow.  She is beautiful and smart and has captured the eye of my oldest son.  Normally, I would be against this.  You were a woman in mourning.  He should have given you time to grieve.  But instead, he is coming down every weekend, calling you every day.  My sons get this from their father.  They can’t leave a woman alone.”

She winked at me.  “My Anthony wore me down, calling three to four times a day.  Of course, I would have married him eventually.  He was the most handsome man… he looked just like my Vincent.  Tall and so slim back then.  Not like now, baby.”  She gestured to her stomach and stuck it out, rubbing it for effect.

I laughed and took a sip of wine.  “Vince eats so much and never gains any weight.”

“Oh, you just wait, honey.  His day is coming, I say.  If his papa is any indication of the future, you better start buying the pants with the elastic, you know?”

She was funny.  I felt comfortable.  Loved.

“Has my Vincent asked you to marry him?”

I looked at her, nearly choking on my wine.  “No, why?”

“He is ready, you know.”  She was quiet.

I looked down at the deck.  “I know, but I’m…”

She cut me off.  “It’s too soon, I know.  You haven’t had time to say goodbye to your husband.  I know that my son is a good man.  He is so passionate and thoughtful.  I know he only thinks of you.  He just forgets that he was alone and you were not.  You were thrown a curveball.  No one knows how long you need to recover.  Some people never get over it.  Some people find their fate and can’t deny it.  You know what I’m saying to you?”

I nodded.  “My mother never got over my father.”

“I know.  Vincent tells me that your relationship with her is strained.  She doesn’t understand what you have found here.”

I stared at the canal, the sky dark now.  Belle squeezed my hand.  “Do you need more time?  Is Vincent the one for you?  If he’s not, you need to let him go.  He will fall apart.”

I turned to face her.  “He is the one.”  I meant it.  “I feel like everything is so screwed up though.  I wasn’t supposed to fall in love, Belle.”  My eyes were filling with tears.  Fuck it, she was just going to have to witness my breakdown.  “I wasn’t supposed to meet him.  I should be at home, drowning in ice cream.”  My voice cracked.

She patted my back.  “That’s why we needed the full glasses, baby.  I’m gonna tell you this.  You are a lucky girl, dear Rachel.  Most women, they get one shot at a happy life with a man that they love.  Some never get even one chance.  You?  You get this gift two times.   It seems as if God is smiling down on you, ragazza dolce.”

“What does that mean?”  I looked into her face carefully.

She looked to the water.  “It just means that my boy picked the right girl.  I hope you will be patient with each other.  I know you feel pressure right now, love, but you pick the pace that you go at.  If you are not ready, you make that call.  You tell him that.  He will wait for you.  He will seem impatient and he may say things that make him seem like an insensitive man, but he will wait.”

I wiped under my eyes lightly with my fingertips.  The last thing Vince needed was to see that I’d been crying.  He was already worried about me.

Belle stood.  “Come on, sweetheart.  Let’s go see what the boys are doing.  They must miss us like crazy by now,” she whispered, winking at me.

*

I went back to my house after my evening with Vince’s family.  It felt uncomfortable to sleep at his place with his parents there.  He was disappointed, but he understood.

Saturday morning, I woke a little after 9 am.  Walking downstairs, I was surprised to see Vince and Belle at my stove, cooking together.  Anthony was flipping the channels on the television.

I was wearing yoga pants and a camisole, thankfully, not my usual short gown.  “Hi, guys.”  I ran a hand through my short hair, checking for stray wild pieces.

Vince walked to me as soon as I hit the last step, wrapping his arms around my waist.  He bent and pressed his mouth to mine, slanting his lips, parting them an inch.  “Good morning, lady.”

Whoa.  In front of his dad?  I had never kissed Ryan like that in front of Walter.

“Hi,” I breathed.  He held my hand and guided me to a stool at the bar.

“Sit, babe.  We’re cooking.”

“I see that.  Good morning, Belle.”

She smiled at me.  “Good morning, beautiful daughter.”

I froze.  It seemed so intimate.  I couldn’t think of a time that my own mother had been that familiar with me… ever.

Vince smiled warmly.  “You want some coffee?”

I nodded lazily, pressing my chin to the bar top.  “Yes, please.”

He handed it to me and rubbed my thumb with his.  “We’re making doughnuts.”

“Really?  I didn’t know people actually did that.  I just thought that you went to Krispy Kreme or whatever.”

Belle put her utensil down and stared at me.  “You’ve never had any homemade doughnuts, honey?  Your mamma never made you any?”

“My mother barely opened cereal boxes.”  I sounded bitter.

“Well, today is your lucky day, baby, because we are making the good ones.  Zeppole!” Belle answered.

I looked at Vince.  “They’re basically like cream puffs,” he said, smiling.

“Mmm, sounds good.”

Belle rolled out the dough, carefully kneading it with her fingers.  “My Vincent, he could barely sleep last night.  He misses you too much.”

Vince snapped, playfully, “Mamma, what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m just saying, you have a hard time without her.  He was counting the hours to see you.”

I looked at him and smiled.  “I counted the hours too.”

He leaned over the bar and pressed his lips to mine.  “Love you.”

Belle had a worried look on her face.  I knew she was afraid that I would break him.  She feared that I was lonely; that my heart belonged to someone else.

“Love you too.”  I reassured her… and him.

A slow smile crept up Belle’s lips as she rolled out her mix.  She washed her hands carefully in the sink and then turned to Vince, placing them on his face.  “You are a lucky boy, figlio.  You have this good woman here, yes?  You take your time with her.  She needs you to be patient.  You show her love, but not too fast, hmm?  You’ll scare her away and then where will you be?”  She turned back to her prep station.  “You kids go sit down with your papa.  I’ll finish up here.”

*

They really were the best doughnuts I had ever tasted.  There was definitely something to be said about fried homemade dough dipped in sugar and swimming with ricotta cheese.

Anthony told stories about his days in the jazz band and beamed about his children.  Vince and Jack were truly the lights of his life.  He had a hearty laugh; it sounded like Jack’s.   They asked me about my job, my friends, my volunteer work, how often I baked, if I played any instruments… everything.  They wanted to know everything about the girl who loved their son.

After breakfast, Vince turned to Belle.  “Mamma, we have a surprise for you.”

“What’s that, my baby?”  She had the look of sheer panic in her eyes.  Did she think that we were getting married or something?

On Monday, as promised, I had called the storage facility in Naperville and made arrangements for my father’s piano to be shipped to Indianapolis.  It had arrived on Thursday afternoon.

“In here.”  He guided her into the den.  There, in the corner, sat an old, out-of-tune upright.  Belle placed her hands on her face.  “Oh!”  She turned to Vince.  “Play something for me.”

Vince had practiced all night on Thursday.  He was rusty at first, but he took his time, adjusting to the feel of the keys.  I lay on the loveseat listening to him for hours that evening.  When I started to get tired, I kissed the back of his neck.  He shut the lid and carried me upstairs.

“Well, we’ve only had it for a few days, so I haven’t practiced much.”  He smiled at her.

“I don’t care.  Just play something.”  She turned to me.  “My Vincent and my Jackie were the best at everything.”

I know.

Vince familiarized himself with the keys for a few seconds before playing a piece I had heard many times just a few nights before.  It was called “Last Date,” an instrumental by an old country musician named Floyd Cramer.  It was such a sweet song.  Belle walked to Anthony and he took her in his arms.  He held her close and they began to sway like they had danced to this song a thousand times.  Had they?  Had Vince played this song for them?

I could feel my throat getting tight as I watched them.  I joined Vince on the bench and laid my head on his shoulder.  When he ended the song, he caught a few of my tears with his thumb.  “Hey, what’s going on?”

“I’m going to take a shower.  I’ll be back down in a few minutes,” I whispered.

I stood and turned to his parents, still wrapped in an embrace.  “I’m going to get cleaned up.  Thanks for breakfast, Belle.  I’ll be down soon.”

*

After my shower, I took extra time getting ready.  I misted my hair with ridiculously expensive sea salt spray and let it dry naturally.  I took my long bangs and pulled them back, pinning them together with a small, rhinestone clip.  I needed another haircut.  That was one negative about short hair.  You had to actually cut it from time to time.

I carefully selected my clothing.  I chose a tomato red pullover dress with an empire waist and deep pockets at the side.  It dipped into a low V at the front and had the tiniest of light blue flowers strewn throughout the material.  I paired it with cornflower blue ballet flats and a pair of silver skull stud earrings that Elsa had given me.

I wore a light coat of smudged kohl eyeliner, thick mascara and strawberry gloss.  After a final look in the full length mirror, I made my way back downstairs.

“Sorry that took so long,” I announced.

Vince came to my side, whispering, “It’s worth it.  You look so beautiful today.”

I smiled up at him and turned to Belle and Anthony.  “Anything you guys want to do today?”

*

I was exhausted.  We went to the Farmers Market, took a walk around the Circle, wandered down by the Canal, went to Brugge for a late lunch… by the time we ended up back at Vince’s apartment, my feet were killing me.

I tried to talk him into dropping me off at home so that he could spend time alone with his parents, but he insisted that I stay with them.

“I’m really tired though, babe.”  I collapsed on his bed.

“Just relax.  You’ll be fine.”  He seemed nervous.  His mind was elsewhere.  “Let’s go back out to the front.”

“You alright?”

“Oh yeah, I’m good.”

He was lying.  I knew his tells.

“Yeah?  You look a little frazzled.”

“No, I’m fine.”

I followed him out to the living room.  Belle and Anthony were on the couch;  her legs were in his lap.  He rubbed her feet.

Vince walked around the couch, now facing them.  “Ray?”

I looked at him, puzzled.  “Yeah?”

“Can you come over here?”

He was definitely acting weird.

I walked over so that I was standing opposite him, in front of his parents.  Yes, this was definitely odd.

He knelt on the ground in front of me and held up a delicate white gold band with a small, princess cut stone in the center.  Accent stones decorated the sides.  “Rachel…”

I turned and faced the front door.  I felt a wave of nausea hit, so I ran to the bathroom instead, vomiting the contents of my lunch into the toilet bowl.  Did he just do that?

After washing my hands and brushing my teeth, I cracked the door and headed back into the living room, my head dizzy.  I looked at Vince.  He was visibly crushed.  I turned my attention to his parents.  “I’m so sorry.”  I picked my bag off of the table and closed the front door behind me.

I got into my car and drove straight to Carrie’s.

Chapter Seventeen

Lila answered the door.  “Auntie Ray!”

I smiled down at her.  “Hi, baby.  Is your mama home?”

“Mom!” she screamed.  I flinched.

Carrie came to the door holding a near-sleeping Audrey.  “Hey, what are you doing here?”

I looked at her, tears starting to form in the corners of my eyes.

“Oh, boy, get in here.”  She clasped her free arm around my shoulder.  “Let me just put this one upstairs and meet me on the patio.  We need wine.  Lila, come upstairs with me.  Mommy’s gonna talk to Auntie Ray for a few minutes.  Can you come watch a video with your sister?”

Lila hesitated, but responded, “Yeah, I guess.  I get to pick though.”

Carrie caved.  “Whatever you want.  Move it.”

A few minutes later, Carrie joined me on the deck.  I had grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack, but it sat on the table, unopened.  She fiddled with the corkscrew and finally pulled the cork out, exclaiming, “I hate these fucking things.”  She didn’t bring any glasses out.  Instead, she took a swig straight out of the bottle and handed it to me.

She chose her words carefully.  “Oh, Ray, what did he do?  Break up with you?”

“Worse,” I sniffled.

“Okay… cheat on you?  That fucker…”

I cut her off.  “He bought me a ring.  He was going to ask me to marry him in front of his family.  I threw up and then ran.”

She smiled at me.  “Like threw up on them?”

“No, asshole, like in the bathroom.  But thanks for the sympathy,” I huffed.

“Listen, babe, I know this is bad, but I thought you were going to tell me some tragedy.  All it sounds like you are telling me is that this guy is fucking nuts.  In a good way, of course.  He just loves you, but got a little premature.”  She took another swig.

“I love him too, but I’m not ready for that.  He knows it, but bought me that ring anyway.  What am I supposed to do?”

“I know that you’re looking for advice here.  If you were picking out a pair of shoes, I could help with that.  But I am not helping you with this.  You have to have your own Come-to-Jesus moment.”  She fumbled through my bag and found my cigarettes and a lighter in the side pocket.  Lighting one and handing the pack to me, she said, “I know you want me to tell you what to do.  But you know what you want.  You want this guy.  But you have to tell him to slow the fuck down.”

I took a cigarette out of the pack and lit it.  “I’ve gotta quit these things.”

“Go home, Ray.  Talk to Vince.  He’s confused about what just happened.”

She was right.  I finished my cigarette and had three slugs of wine out of the bottle before grabbing my purse.  “You better go get your girls.  They’ve probably been up there painting on the walls.”

“Ugh, I know.  They’ve been total assholes lately.”  I gave her a wide-eyed stare.  “What?”

I pulled her in for a tight hug.  “Thanks for listening.”

“Sure.  And, hey, if the worst thing he can do is ask you to marry him after three months, you’re doing pretty well.  It took Rick six years, so… there you go.”

“But now you’ve got everything,” I said, pointing upstairs.

“Yep, I do.  Now go get yours.”

*

When I pulled into my driveway, the sun was just starting to go down.  Vince was sitting on the bench in the garden.  When he saw my headlights, he stood, fumbling nervously.

I pulled into the garage.  He followed.  “I’m sorry, Ray,” he spewed.  “I don’t know what I was thinking.  It just seemed like the right time and I don’t know why I thought that.  I know you told me that you wanted to wait, but I got way ahead of myself.  I asked my mom to bring that ring with her from Chicago.  I don’t know why I did that.  Now I’ve ruined us and I…”

“Vince, stop.”  I motioned for him to come in the house.  “You haven’t ruined us.  You just need to stop for a minute.  Think about all of this.”

“I have.  I wouldn’t give you my Nonna’s ring without thinking about who I was giving it to.  I guess I got to the point where I couldn’t see a future without you, so I jumped the gun.  I should have waited for you to tell me that you were ready.”  He kneaded his hands together.

“I see you in my future too.  And I love that you wanted to give me your grandmother’s ring.  But I need you to hold on to it for a while.  We need to set some ground rules.”

“Okay, whatever you want.”

“I just want a little time to get used to being a couple, you know.  But I need it to be at a normal couple pace.  First of all, I want two weeks.”

“Two weeks of what?”

“Being alone.”

“Ray…”

I sat down on the couch.  “I mean it.  We need to get some perspective and I can’t when we’re together all of the time.”

“Okay,” he said, sitting on the opposite end.

“Okay?  Next, we need to go on dates.  Like you pick me up, take me to the movies and kiss me goodnight.  None of this fucking-every-two-minutes thing we’ve got going now.”

He smiled.  “Okay.  Dates.”

“We’ll make our first date two weeks from today.  You plan it and I will be ready.”

“Can I still call you?”  He looked desperate.

“Not for two weeks.  If you do, I’ll just end up breaking and you’ll probably end up moving in here.”  I smiled at him.

“What about texting?  Can I say good morning?”

I thought about it.  “One text per day.  Make it good.”

He squeezed my hand, got up and walked to the door.  “I’m not gonna screw this up, Ray.  I promise.  I’ll see you in two weeks.  5:00.”

“Seriously, Vince?  5?  Are we going to the MCL?”

“5:00 sharp.  Wear the dress with the apples.”

He turned the knob and gave me one last look.  “I do love you, Ray.”

“I know.  I love you too.”

*

Day One:  Thinking about you this morning.  Sundays are usually spent in bed together (Talking.  Get your mind out of the gutter).  I miss your face and your voice.  13 days left.

Day Two:  Bob is wearing a Wu-Tang tee and stretch pants today.  I wish I could taste your strawberry lip gloss… on your lips.  12 days.

Day Three:  My mamma says she misses you.  She and my dad want to see you again when things go back to normal.  Will they go back to normal?  11 days.

Day Four:  A girl at the Starbucks gave me her phone number on a cup.  I didn’t realize that people really did that.  Anyway, I threw out the cup, of course.  But not before drinking the coffee.  10 days.

Day Five:  When I think about spending my life without you, I don’t want to get out of bed.  Having a bad day, Ray.  Will you still love me in 9 days?

Day Six:  Put some pictures of last weekend up on Facebook today.  We look so happy in them.  In 8 days, we will take another picture.  On our first date.  We’ll take a hundred pictures.  I love you madly.

Day Seven:  I put on the red pants you like today.  And the Jeff Buckley t-shirt you wore to bed the other night.  My mom washed it, but I can still smell your shampoo.  Saturdays without you suck.  7 days.

Day Eight:  I can’t wait to have my second first kiss with you.  6 days.

Day Nine:  It’s early.  You’re probably sleeping.  When you get dressed, wear that white dress with the black collar that you wore when I kissed you in the garden.  5 days.

Day Ten:  There’s a Bruce Lee marathon on tonight.  I wish you were watching it with me on my ridiculous TV.  I need someone to throw popcorn on.  4 days.

Day Eleven:  I woke up and you weren’t here.  It’s been too long since I’ve touched you.  3 days.

Day Twelve:  I talked to Jack.  Something weird is going on with him and Elsa.  She answered his phone.  I can’t wait to hold your hand on Saturday.  I’m not going to let it go the whole night.  2 more days.

Day Thirteen:  Work won’t be as terrible today knowing that I get to go out on a date with the hottest girl in the city tomorrow night.  I think Bob is ready to kill me.  Tomorrow.

Day Fourteen:  I will see you in just a few hours.  I can’t wait to smell your perfume.  Touch your skin.  Hear your voice.  5:00.

*

At 4:55 pm, my doorbell rang.  I had been ready for an hour, staring at the driveway.  I swiped a fresh layer of strawberry gloss on and ran to answer it.

“Hi,” I answered, out of breath.

“My God.  You look more beautiful today than you ever have.”

I blushed.  “Thanks.  Are you ready?”

“Can I come in for a minute?”

“Sure, do you have to pee or something?”  Do you have to pee or something?  You’re an idiot.

Vince cupped his hands to my face and pressed his lips to mine gently.

“Nope, that was it.  I just couldn’t wait another minute to kiss you.”

God, I missed him.  For the past two weeks, I had cried a hundred times.  Every text was a stab in my heart.  I pictured him in a hundred different scenarios touching me in a hundred different ways.  I turned to my battery-operated-boyfriend several nights, sadly.

“Wow,” I breathed.  “Well, that was nice.”

“There’s more where that came from.  So, shall we?”

I set my security alarm and locked the door behind me.  Vince took my hand and led me to the driveway, opening the passenger side door for me.  “Milady.”

“Oooh, aren’t we formal?”

“Nothing if not formal, my dear.”  He closed my door and walked around front to the driver’s side.  I admired him.  Luckily, he had a slow gait.  He wore a fitted white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of loose dark jeans with large cuffs at the bottom.  He wore his butter yellow Converse.  They complimented the apples on my dress.  He knew what I would be wearing.  He matched me on purpose.  The idea made the butterflies in my stomach come to life.

He pulled out his matte black glasses and put them on, looking to me.  “Ready?”

I wanted to say fuck all and go back inside, pin him to a wall and have my way with him.  Instead, I said, “Yep.”

“MCL then?”

I smiled at him.  “Hey, it’s your date, buddy.”

“No, it’s our date.  Our first real one, right?  It only took almost four months.”  He studied me.  “By the way, I’ve been doing some thinking these past weeks, believe it or not,” he said, smiling, “and I just want to apologize that I never really took you on too many dates, you know?  We went to the Village and got dinner or whatever, but I never really wooed you.”

“Wooed me?”  I laughed.

“Don’t laugh, Ray… you know what I mean.  I should have taken care of you.”

“You took care of me,” I said, smiling.

“Not like that, dummy.”  He smiled back.  “But that’s going to change.  I’m going to impress the shit out of you.”  He started the car.

*

We drove to the Corner Wine Bar.  We could have walked from my place, but I was wearing heels.  He was thinking ahead.  We sat out on the patio and had a glass of red wine.  I let him hold my hand across the table.  He lightly rubbed our fingers together.

“So, did you like the texts?”

“All of them except one.”

“The I’m-Lonely-And-I-Want-To-Die one?”

“No, the Starbucks girl one.”  I frowned.

He smiled.  “I hoped that you missed me.  That one was selfish.  I shouldn’t have sent it.  What I should have said that day was that I loved you and that I missed you so badly.  I did, you know.”

I looked up at him.  “I know.”  I paused.  “I cried.”

“When I sent you that stupid Starbucks text?  Oh, God, I’m sorry, Ray… I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, not that.  Every day.”

He looked visibly upset, staring at our hands linked together.  “Please.”

I didn’t know what he was asking for.  “What?”

“Please don’t leave me.  Give me another chance.”

I squeezed his hand tighter.  “This is our chance.  I don’t want to be without you.  I was miserable these last few weeks.  I picked up the phone constantly.  I couldn’t sleep… I lost three pounds!”

“Three?”  He laughed lightly.

“Well, you know, for me, that’s like a miracle.  Most of the time, I have to work at it for like a month to lose even one.”

He laughed again.  “Baby, I’m going to make you gain all three back tonight.  I have plans.”

“Oh, plans?”  I grinned at him.

“Yes.”

“Hey, what’s going on with my sister and your brother?”

A slow smile spread across his face.  “I don’t know, but there’s something going on there.  She called me the other day.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t know.”

“Well, what did she want?”

He shifted in his seat.  “She wondered why we were on a break.  She asked lots of questions about what I did to you and why you left me.  I guess Jack must have talked to our mom.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her that I was shamelessly in love with you and that I asked you to marry me and you freaked out.  Then I told her that I felt like a jackass and that I was trying to make it up to you.”

I leaned in.  “You didn’t ask me.”

“What?”

“You never asked me to marry you.  You just started to.”  I took a sip of my wine.  “And then I threw up loud enough for your family to hear me.  I’m sorry about that.  I never did apologize.”

“I won’t ask you again.”

I frowned.  “Why?”

“You’ll have to ask me.  I’m not messing this up again ever.  Nuh uh.”

I toyed with my napkin on the table.  “Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, I’ll ask.  Or at least I’ll let you know that I want you to ask,” I teased.

His face lifted, smiling.  “I can’t wait.”

“You will though, right?  Wait?”

“Oh, yeah.  I’ll wait a hundred years.”

God, I wanted to kiss him.  Eh, fuck it.  I stood and leaned across the table.  He rose and met me in the middle, clasping his hand around my neck.  It was a soft kiss, but full of promise.

Chapter Eighteen

The next stop was for ice cream.  There was a gelato shop that I read about in a local magazine, but I hadn’t been there.  We had yet to eat dinner, but Vince was determined to woo me.  So, gelato it was.  I had a sea salt caramel cup and Vince had chocolate.  Both were amazing.

He kissed me in between bites.  He held my hand and rubbed my back.  He was absolutely perfect.

He had made reservations for a late dinner downtown, so we had about an hour to kill.  Instead of going anywhere, we sat on a bench outside of the shop and talked.  We kissed a bit, but we spent our time catching up on all of our missed hours together.

“So,” I continued our earlier conversation, “do you think that Elsa and Jack are like… seeing each other?”

“I guess so.  Is that weird?”

I scooted closer to him and placed my hand in his lap.  “No, I guess not.  I don’t know.  It’s hard to say because we haven’t seen them together.”

I changed the subject.  “Vince?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry about how I acted with your parents.  Do they think I’m crazy?  Your mother was so nice to me and I literally fell apart in front of her like a nut.”

He nudged my shoulder.  “They love you.  Honestly.  My mom was so mad at me for what I did.  I had to work on her for hours just to get her to talk to me.  She didn’t understand why I ‘tried’ to ask you that way.  She said that a proposal should be private and that I embarrassed you.”

I looked down at the pavement and scraped my heels across it, my short legs barely touching the ground.  “I’m the one who should be embarrassed.  I don’t know what happened.”

It was his turn to get serious.  “I hope that your reaction was just one of surprise and not one of disgust.  I know you aren’t ready to get married, but I do hope that you still feel the same way about me that you did.”

“I do.  I love you.  I’m just not sure what to do now.  I want us to go back to the way we were before, I guess, but I’m not sure we can.”

“We can, Ray.  I will spend every minute trying to fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix.  I just need to heal some more, I think.  When we were apart, all I thought about was you.  I’m getting there, I promise.”

He leaned over and gave me a soft kiss.  I leaned into him, making my intentions clear.  He was mine.  He was forgiven; I wanted to show him.  He pulled away slowly.

“Vince…”

“I know you’re okay.  I just want more than that.  I want you to be ready for everything.”

*

We arrived at the restaurant around nine.  The walls were high; it was a private booth, apart from the server.  The meal was exquisite.  Vince had steak and frites.  I had scallops with butternut squash risotto.  I was so full that my dress felt tight.

“Ugh, I can’t believe I ate all of that.”

“I’m doing my best to fatten you back up.”

I smiled.  “Honestly, what’s wrong with you?  I need to fit into the clothes I have, baby.”

He leaned in close, whispering in my ear.  “I miss you calling me ‘baby.’  I miss you in my bed every night.”

“Spend the night with me.”  What did I say that for?  Slut.

“I can’t,” he sighed.  “I want to, but you’ve had three glasses of wine.  I want to make sure you really want me there and aren’t just thinking with a buzzy head.”

“So, let’s go out for a while longer.  I’ll drink eight glasses of water.  I’ll take aspirin and we’ll go back to my house and listen to records.  If you still want to go home, you can.”  I was desperate.  I wanted him so much.

“I’ll take you to your house.  We can listen to records... and then I’ll go home and take a cold shower.”

I had a better idea.  “Or… we could take a hot one at my house together.”  Seriously, was I trying to make him run?

He signaled to our server and asked for the check.  He signed the slip and turned to me, whispering.  “I want nothing more than to take a shower with you, fuck you for hours and wake up with you tomorrow.”  He paused.  “But, we are on a first date, lady, and you are pushing it.”  He smiled and leaned in for a quick peck on my lips.

I placed my arms across my chest and stared at the table.

“Are you pouting, sweetie?”

“Yes,” I growled.

“Next date, you can get to second base.”

“What’s second base?  Hand job?”

He smiled.  “Maybe,” he said, pausing.  “Or maybe it’s me who gets to second.”

My cheeks flushed.  “And what does that mean?”

“It means that maybe you are the one who gets the hand job.”  He took his fingers and lightly brushed the front of my dress.

I was breathing hard.  “Let’s go.”

“We can go, but I’m taking you home.”

“Are you kidding me?”

He smacked the top of my thigh.  “Nope.”  He slid out of the booth and offered his hand.

I took it.  “I hate you so much right now.”

“You better be nice or you’re not even going to get to first base when I get you home.”

He was toying with me.  Maybe I wouldn’t even let him get to first base.  Maybe I would be a total bitch and send him home with no goodnight kiss at all.  Oh, who was I kidding?

*

He pulled into my driveway just after midnight and killed the engine.

“Are you coming in?”  God, please say yes.

He sighed and put his hand on top of mine.  He was still wearing his glasses.  I fantasized about straddling him.  “For one minute.”

Yes!

“Great!”  I sounded way too enthusiastic.

“I mean, it, Ray.  One minute.”

I whined.  “Why?”

“If I stay longer than that, I’ll just… stay.”

“So?”

“So, I thought you wanted to take things slow… go on dates.  You made those rules, not me.  I’m trying my best to follow them, but you keep confusing me.”

“Stay, Vince.”  No confusion.  I knew what I wanted.

He opened the car door.  “Stay there,” he said.  Walking around to my side, he casually opened the door and put his hand out for me to take.  “One minute.”

He held my hand on the way inside, only letting it go so I could disable the alarm.  I set my keys down on the table and hung my handbag on one of the three hundred hooks that Ryan had installed for me.  I had a serious shopping issue.

I walked to the refrigerator.  “Beer?”

“No.  I’m not going to be here long enough to drink it, Ray.”

“Yes, you are.”  I strolled back to him and placed my hands on his hips.  “Stay.”

I stood on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck, curling my fingers into his hair.  I pulled him close, touching my lips to his.  I opened my mouth a fraction, coercing a response from him.  His arms curled around my waist.  Yes!  He lifted me and placed me on the counter, pulling away and studying my face.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes,” I breathed.  “So much.”

“Do you miss me?  Or just this?”

I felt my throat constrict.  Did he honestly think I was using him?  I loved him.  “Vince, no.  Don’t be confused.”  I kissed his cheek and smiled at him, lowering my hands to the countertop.  “The sex is great, yes.  But… if we never did it again, I wouldn’t care.  I need you, not that.”

“Because I can’t be that guy.  I can’t be the guy that hangs out with you and sleeps with you and then finds out that you might not ever be ready for what I want.  For what I need.”

“What do you need?”  I asked.

“I need it all.  Moving in, marriage, kids.  Even if you can’t give it to me today, I need to know that you will eventually.  I don’t want to get crushed by you.”  His voice dropped an octave.  “Things are different now.”

“I know.  Just be patient and we will have everything, I promise.”

I leaned in and placed my hands back on his neck.  He crushed his lips to mine.  “God, I’ve missed you so much, Ray.”

“Take me to bed.”

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, whispering into my ear.  “Come with me.”

I popped off of the counter and squealed, letting him guide me into the bathroom.  He let my hand go long enough to open the shower curtain and turn on the knob.  Just one knob.  The cold one.  He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.  See you tomorrow.”

*

He left me there.  Seriously?

I locked the door behind him and watched him pull away.  Would I see him tomorrow?  I texted him five minutes later.  He would be home by now.

Me:  I miss you already.  Please come back.

Vince:  Do you have any idea how hard that was for me?

Me:  I love you.

Vince:  Goodnight, Ray.

Me:  Do you love me?

Vince:  Goodnight, Ray.

A few minutes passed.

Vince:  I love you too.

Finally.  I could sleep.

*

On Sunday morning, I got a text from Vince.

Vince:  You up?

Me:  Yeah.  Come drink coffee with me.

Vince:  Be there in five.

Thirty seconds later, the bell rang.  Vince stood in the doorway with a brown paper bag.

“Hi, lovely.”  I flung my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

“Doughnuts.  Or, well, the stuff to make doughnuts.  You know, like the ones my mom made.  I can teach you.”

“Or… we could just go upstairs.”  I was going to try this again.  I had already embarrassed myself last night.  What could it hurt?

“Maybe after doughnuts.”

Was he serious?

“Okay… what do we do?”

We mixed our dough and put it in a big bowl with a damp towel over the top.  “It’s got to rise now, so we’ve got a little bit of time.”

“Time for what?”  I asked.

“I could play you something on the piano.”

“Or?”

“Or what, babe?”  He smiled and brushed his thumb across my cheek.

“God, are you seriously going to make me beg?”

“I have every intention of making you beg,” he said, grinning.

I huffed.  “Okay then, Vince, I’ll beg.  Will you please take me upstairs so that I can have my way with you?”  I put my hand on my side and jutted out my hip.

“Hmm, okay.  Come on.”  Were we really going to do this?  It had only been a little over two weeks since we had made love, but there was a measurable anticipation in the air between us.  I followed him up the stairs, straight into my bedroom.

He stood at the end of the bed and pulled his t-shirt off in one movement.  I stood a few feet away.  I removed my camisole, both of us locked in a stare.  He unbuttoned his pants and slowly dragged the zipper down.  I shimmied out of my pink short bottoms.  I stood, naked, waiting for him to finish undressing.  It was painful and deliberate.  I wanted him inside of me.

He pulled off the last of his clothing, standing just outside of my reach.  “Tell me something that you’ve never told anyone.”

“What?” I asked.  I thought we were going to do it!

“Tell me something about yourself that no one knows.”

Oh, God, we were sharing.  “Um… I’ve never been out of the U.S.”

“No, baby, that’s not a secret.  Tell me something else.”  He moved closer.

I paused.  “Ryan cheated on me.”

His eyes went wide.  “What?”

“It was a long time ago.”  I was standing there naked… talking about this?

“Well, like how long ago?  You guys were only together for five years, so it couldn’t have been that long.”

“Three years ago this past May.”  I took a deep breath and sat on the side of the bed.  He sat next to me and put his hand on the small of my back.  I felt embarrassed.  I wasn’t sure why.  No one knew what had happened with Ryan and Lisa.  Not Carrie.  Not Lauren.  Not even Elsa.  Why did I have to ruin our almost-sex moment?

“How did you find out about it?”

“From her.  She called me on the night of my 30th birthday party.”  I flinched, recalling the memory.

“Who?”

“Lisa.  The girl.”  I stared straight ahead now, my voice dipping low.

He shifted closer, his fingertips grazing my skin.  “Who was she?”

“Just some girl from his office.  She was his intern.”  I laughed.  “Fucking typical, right?  She was like 21 or something.  She thought she loved him, so I guess she wanted to break up his marriage or whatever.  I don’t know.”  I went silent.

“But you forgave him?”

“Well, not at first, but there was nowhere for me to go.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I didn’t tell anyone because I wasn’t sure if we would work it out… I didn’t want anyone to judge me if we stayed together.  I already felt weak and I didn’t need more shit, you know?  From my mom or my sister… anyone.  I just wanted it to all go away.”

“Was it like a full-blown affair or was it just a one-time kind of thing?”

We really needed to put our clothes back on if this was how it was going to go.

“According to him, it was one time.  According to her, they fucked all over the city for a year.  Who knows and who cares?  I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Baby,” he whispered.  “I’m so sorry.  I thought you guys were like this utopian couple.  I didn’t know.”

“We were.  Or maybe I thought we were.  I don’t know why he did that.  He told me that he just got drunk or whatever and that he didn’t remember even kissing her.  But she described all sorts of things… and she didn’t leave much out.”  I paused.  “She knew about him.”  I looked down at my hands, embarrassed.  “He had a birthmark.  Down there.  She described it.  She told me that she wrapped her lips around it on the first day they met.  You asked me before why we used condoms when I was on the pill?  That’s why,” I admitted.  A few tears ran down my face.  “After that, I only slept with him a handful of times before he died.”

He took my hand and kneaded it softly in his.  “Fuck, Ray, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to bring this up.  Let’s just get dressed and go take a walk or something.”

“No… can you just stay here with me?”  I met his eyes.  “Can we forget this and go back to where we were?”

“We can… but do you want to?”

Not really.  I was wiped.  “I don’t know.  I guess not.”  I wiped the tears from my eyes.  I had already cried a thousand times over that one.  No more.  “Fuck… I’m sorry,” I sniffled.

He went to my closet and picked a few pieces of clothing for me.  A white cap sleeve A-line dress with a color block short skirt in turquoise and dark gray horizontal stripes.  It had a thin yellow belt.  He pulled out a light yellow cardigan and asked me, “Does this go?”

“It’s fine, thank you.”  I smiled weakly.

I went to my underwear drawer and pulled out a white cotton t-shirt bra and matching boy shorts, taking my time putting them on.

“God, how is it that you can take a pair of regular white underwear and make me fucking nuts?”  He was sitting back on the bed, still undressed, leaning on his elbows.  He was watching me.

“Get dressed.  Let’s go to Zest or something.  We can make the doughnuts later.”

He stood and walked over to me, pulling my chin up to meet his eye.  “Hey.  I’m sorry that happened to you.  I want you to know one thing.  I would never do that.  I waited for 35 years to find you.”

I buried my head in his chest, letting a few tears fall.  “Will you get fucking dressed, weirdo?  You’re all naked and freaking me out.”  I laughed lightly and pushed on his stomach.

“I will, but I’m not happy about it.”  He smiled.

“Well, I promise you, I’ll undress you again later, okay?  You better at least let me get to third base, Conti.”

“Oh, I promise you’ll hit a home run.”

“Don’t be gross.”  I smacked him on his naked behind and went to Ryan’s empty closet.  “You can leave some of your stuff in here if you want.”

He smiled.  “How about all of it?”

Chapter Nineteen

Vince kept me occupied all day.  He was careful with me, apprehensive.  After breakfast, we took a long walk on the Monon; he asked if he could hold my hand.  We sat outside at the pub and had a pint.  He kept the conversation light, telling me about work.

Bob was thinking about leaving; he wanted Vince to shadow him.  Vince was a studio tech, but as the studio/booking manager, he could make quite a bit more money.  He seemed nervous, but enthusiastic about the opportunity.

“We could be set if I took that job.”

“What do you mean?”  I studied him.  “We already do fine.”

“No, I know, but this would mean that we could buy a place that you loved.  You know, that we could grow in.”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight.  “I like my house now.”

“I like it too, Ray, but it’s small.”  He held my hand and toyed with my wedding ring.  “Eventually, we might want to get a bigger place, you know?  I mean, not some monstrosity in the suburbs or anything, but maybe something with an extra bedroom or a finished basement.”

He had been thinking about this.

“Okay, I’ll consider it.”

He smiled.  “Good.  The area that we live in now is practical, I think.  About halfway from my work and yours.”

“I said I’d think about it.  I don’t want to put my house up for sale right now.  Besides, you’ve still got five months on your lease.”

“Are you worried about Walter and Linda?”

Where did that come from?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if we buy a house and move in together?  Eventually, you have to tell them about it.  About us.”

I hadn’t really thought much about that.  I was now.

“Um… I don’t know.  I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“You should talk to them.”

“Why?”  I really didn’t want to talk to them again.

“Because we’re together now.  I don’t want to wait until we’re a year in before you tell them about us.  The longer you wait, the worse it’ll be.”  He squeezed my hand.

“They know.”

“They don’t know, Ray.”

“No, I mean about Ryan.”  I paused.  “And Lisa.”

“I thought you said no one knew.”

“No one from my family or friends.  His mom knew because she was at the party.  She heard me on the phone with Lisa.  I was crying after I hung up and she asked me about it.  I didn’t want to tell her, but she kind of guessed.  It was almost like she knew too.”

“Okay… but, what does her knowing have to do with us?

“I guess I just thought that she might understand, you know… a little more.”

He leaned in.  “Babe, that was her son.  Regardless of what he did, she probably won’t understand this right away.  Give her time.  Eventually, she’ll see that you’re happy again and she will be too.”

“I am, you know… happy.”  I smiled at him.

“I know.”  He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.  “I am too.  Now, let’s go home.  I’ve got a little buzz on and I want to take full advantage of you.”

*

His place was closer than mine, so we ended up there.  He was cautious not to rush me.  “Do you want anything to drink?”

I walked up behind him at the refrigerator, wrapping my arms around his waist.  “No.  I want you to take me into that bedroom and let me take advantage of you.”

He turned to face me.  “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”  I felt like my body was convulsing with need.  I had thought about him every minute since we had been apart.

He took my hand and guided me into his room.

“You painted!”  The once-white room was now a dark matte gray, the shade we picked together.  It looked incredible.  “It’s so nice.”

“I had a lot of time on my hands these last few weeks.”

I flinched.  “Oh.”

“It’s fine, babe.  Everything is good now.  We’re back together.  The sun is shining and all that.  So, let’s just forget those weeks.”  He kissed me lightly.  “They never happened.”

I jumped on the bed.  He had a new duvet cover and shams as well.  They were cream with orange and ash colored birds on them.  “This is pretty.  It’s new too, right?”

He took off his shoes and climbed into bed next to me.  “I got it for you.  I know how you like the bird stuff.”

My heart skipped a beat.  Oh, I fucking loved him.  “Well, it’s lovely.  And you’re lovely.”

He leaned in and brushed a piece of hair from my face.  “No, you’re lovely.”  He pressed his lips to my cheek.  “Like so fucking beautiful, I can’t stand it.”

I looked away.  My cheeks flushed.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, just embarrassed.  It’s stupid.”

He rubbed my shoulder.  “Embarrassed because I said you were beautiful?”

I shrugged.  “I guess.”

“Well, you better get used to it.  I’m going to tell you every day for the rest of our lives.”

Yes, I’ll marry you.

I got up from the bed and pulled back the comforter on my side.  “Get up.  Help me.”

He pulled his side and we got in under the sheets.  They matched the duvet.  So cute.  “Are we taking a nap?”  He smiled.

“Hardly.”

I rolled to the middle and faced him, moving as close as I could, wrapping my right arm around his waist.  I pulled on the hem of his shirt and tugged at it.  “You know, we could have gotten undressed before we got under here.”

“Don’t sass me.  Undressing you is half the fun.”

He sat up and lifted his shirt over his head.  “There.  I’m helping.”  He lay back down and turned towards me again, studying my face.  He brushed his fingers across my bottom lip.  “You’ve got so many clothes on.”

I pulled his thumb into my mouth, biting on the tip, lightly running my tongue over it.  “It’s one dress, Vince.  And… it doesn’t even have a zipper.”

He dragged at his thumb, replacing it with his lips.  He kissed me hard, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth.  “I love you so much, Ray.”

I pulled him closer, digging my fingers into his backside.  His hands fumbled with the belt on my dress, eventually successful.  He tugged at it until it came free from the tiny loops and tossed it on the floor.  He jerked at the material, stretching it.  This was difficult lying down!  “Help me, babe.”

I sat up and gathered the bunched cotton, hefting and sending it to the floor with my belt.

“Finally,” he laughed.

I rolled on top of him and straddled his thighs with mine.  I could feel his excitement increasing with every movement.  He pulled me close and kissed me softly, his fingers working the clasp of my bra, pulling it down and off.  He sat up and buried his head into my neck, running his tongue across my throat.  One piece left to go!

I shifted on the bed, pushing him back down.  Kneeling between his legs, I unbuttoned his jeans.  Taking my time, I removed them, along with his underwear.  I tossed them onto the pile.  He closed his eyes, pushing his head firmly into the pillow, breathing sharply.  I lowered my lips to the blue ink on his waist, dragging my tongue across it several times.  He placed his hand on the nape of my neck, gripping my hair.

“Oh, God,” he growled.

I lifted my head.  “Put your hands on my hips,” I instructed.  He splayed his hands at my side.  “Take these off.”  I motioned to my underwear.

He sat up and pulled me into his lap, my legs sprawled out to his sides.  He licked along my jaw and placed his right hand into my underwear, pushing inside.  Oh!

“You ready for me?”  We stared at each other.

“Yes,” I breathed.

“I can tell.”  He pulled out and flipped me over on to my stomach in one movement.  His hands curled into the sides of my underwear and drew them down my legs.  He nudged between my knees, opening them further.  Oh, God.  His hand traced along my backside, massaging there.  Please move up, please move up.  He did not need to see my cellulite up close.   He leaned over my back and whispered in my ear, “I’m the luckiest man on the planet.  Every day, I get to come home to you.”  He brushed his tongue against my lobe.  “I get to touch you… taste you… make love to you.  You get to be mine.”

He rolled me back over and gently positioned me back under the sheets, my head propped on one of the pillows.  He lay on top of me, his face inches from mine.  Placing his hands on the sides of my head, he leaned in and kissed me.  “I love you, Ray.”

I pressed my hand to the side of his neck, a tear slipping from my eye.  What was happening to me?  Was I in some kind of fucking Lifetime movie?  Get it together, Stephens!

Was I going to cry?  Like start fucking crying?  I could feel the waterworks coming.  Mother… fucker!  I started to choke and tried to mask it with a cough instead.  Right in his face.

“Are you okay?”  He laughed.

“Yeah,” I sniffled, “besides being a fucking idiot.”

He kissed along my eyelids, my cheeks, the sides of my lips.  “Well, I like when you’re a fucking idiot.  You’re adorable.”  He kissed my neck.  “And sexy.”

“Uh huh.  It’s super-hot to cry before sex.  I know most guys really love to stick it to an emotional wreck.”

He kissed across my breasts, biting lightly.  “You’re lucky I’m not like most guys.”

He lifted his face, pressing his lips to mine.  It was soft at first, the pressure building.   He pulled back, positioning himself between my legs.  He pushed inside slowly, watching me.  I turned my head a fraction, flustered.  “No, Ray, look at me.  I want to see you.  I want you to forget about all of the complications and other shit going on.  You love me, right?”

I nodded.

“Okay, then tell me.”

Oh, God, he was right.  I didn’t tell him nearly enough.  He told me all of the time.  He just wanted something back.

“I love you, Vince.”

He moved his hips more rapidly, accelerating the pace between us.  He held my face and crushed his lips to mine.  His kisses were wet and deliberate.  He was taking his time, unhurried.  He studied me, kissed me, ran his hands along my waist, up my back.  All the while, he never broke eye contact.  It was disconcerting.

Ryan had never looked at me like this.  I couldn’t imagine anyone except Vince looking at me like this.

“Move in with me,” I blurted.  Did I just say that?

Oh, yeah, I did.

“What?”  He slowed his pace, starting to pull away.

“Don’t stop,” I breathed.

He pushed back into me, harder this time, causing me to gasp aloud.

“Say it again,” he whispered, moving briskly now, pushing gently on my abdomen.

“Oh!” I screamed.

“Say it again.”

“Move in with me.”  I really was insane.  Didn’t I just tell him a few weeks ago that he was moving too fast?

He drove into my body, causing it to shudder uncontrollably, choking out a cry.

“Did you just come?” he questioned, his face amused.

“Oh, God… I’m sorry.”

He laughed at me, of course, and pushed his hips into mine, more forceful this time.  He was concentrating, his face determined.  He lowered his lips to my ear.  “Yes, Rachel.”  Within seconds, he let go, gripping my waist and gasping for air.

He moved in that night.

*

We were lucky.  After a lie we told to his landlord about getting married, he conceded to letting Vince out of his lease.  He only lost the deposit and his last month’s rent.

The next weekend, all of his large furniture ended up in a storage unit.

After moving him all day Saturday, we collapsed on the couch at our new place.  Ours.

“I’m so happy, Ray,” he purred.

“Me too.”  I was.  Ecstatic, even.  I don’t know why I had been so nervous.

“We should go talk to Ryan’s parents.”

Oh, God… that’s why I had been.

“I haven’t even told my own mom.  I can’t talk to them first.”  I hadn’t talked to her in over a month.  She hadn’t called.  Not one single message.

“So, call your mom first.  Then we’ll go talk to them… together.”

My heart was working overtime.  I couldn’t imagine either interaction going well.  “Can’t we just watch a movie and hide?”  I smiled at him.

“Nope.  It’s official.  I’m living here now, so we need to tell people.”

“I told Carrie… and Jack and Elsa know,” I pleaded.

“Nope, not the same.  Move it.”  He handed me the phone.  “Like a bandage, babe.  Just rip it off.”

I groaned.  “I hate you.”

He smiled.  “Go.”

*

My mother answered on the first ring.

“Hello, Rachel.”  Her voice was cold.  “I wondered if I would ever hear from you again.”

“Hi, Mom.  How are you?”

“Well, I’m fine, considering my oldest daughter hasn’t called me in 40 days.”  Oh, God, she was counting.

I sighed.  “I’ve been busy, I guess.  But you didn’t call me either,” I answered, taking a shot at her.

“Mm hmm.  Well, I suppose you’re calling to tell me that your new ‘friend’ has ended things with you.”

“No,” I whispered.  “Just the opposite.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s moved in with me, Mama.”

There was a long pause.  “Uh huh.  Well, that sure was fast.  So, I take it this man doesn’t have a job and he’s found himself quite the gravy train, huh?  Living off of your husband’s insurance policy?  Sounds like a smart man to me.”

My face heated.  “No, Mother, he has a job.  A good job.”  Why was I explaining myself?  “I love him and he loves me and we’re living together now.  I just wanted to let you know.  I didn’t call you so that we could fight about it.”

“Oh no, of course not.  You just wanted to share your joy with me.  Mission accomplished.”

The line went dead.

I walked into the living room and threw my phone down on the coffee table, hitting with a loud thump.

“What happened, babe?  Was she not home?”

“Oh no, she was.  She hung up on me.”

“Fuck her.”  He took my hand and sat me on the couch, pulling me into an awkward hug.  I straightened myself and pushed my whole body into his.  He turned to me.  “Well, let’s go to Walter and Linda’s.”

I pulled back.  “Are you fucking crazy?”

“Nope,” he replied.  “We needed to tell your mom and you did.  We need to tell Walter and Linda, so let’s go.  Better to get it done all today.”

I sighed.  “I need to change.”  I stood and he smacked my behind.

“Make it fast, honey.”

I groaned and made my way up the stairs.  I turned to my closet.  I needed an outfit that said I’ve met someone else and I’m burying the memory of your son.  I chose a white, sleeveless silk dress with a jacquard print lace overlay in black.  I fastened a thin red belt and slipped on matching ballet flats.

Vince joined me in the bedroom, pulling off his t-shirt and replacing it with a gray dress shirt and dark jeans.  He cuffed the sleeves of his shirt and sat on the edge of the bed, lacing up a pair of suede oxblood colored boots.  “Hey,” he whispered.  “We’re going to be fine.  What we have is good.”

He was right.

“Okay,” I said, smiling.  “Let’s go then.”

*

We sat in the long driveway for a minute, staring at the front door.

“You ready, Ray?”

I placed my hand in his and gave it a squeeze.  “I guess.”

I opened the passenger side door and straightened my dress, smoothing the wrinkles that the seatbelt had created on the drive over.

He placed his hand on my back.  “You look beautiful, sweetheart.  Now stop fidgeting.”

I rang the bell and stared at the ground below.  Less than a minute later, Linda stood in the frame.  “Oh, my darlings.”

Vince reached over and placed his hand in mine.  I wanted to pull away, but laced my fingers with his instead.  This is what we were here for.

She noticed.  “Please, come in,” she said.  Her voice was cooler now.

Vince gripped tighter and then let my hand free.  When she turned her back to walk towards the sitting room, he mouthed I love you.

“Sit,” she announced.  She smiled, but she was different now.  “Walter!  Ray and Vince are here.”  She turned to us.  “Now, what can I get you to drink?”

“Just water is fine, Linda,” I answered.

“No, don’t be ridiculous.  You’re our daughter.  We drink wine, not water.”  She got up and walked towards the wooden rack.  I knew the daughter comment was meant to sting me.  “Red okay?”

“It’s fine, Linda.  We can’t really stay.”  We could.  I just didn’t want to.  We needed to get this done.

Walter strolled into the room.  “Ray,” he said, his voice loud, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.  “So good to see you.  And Vince… you came too.  Nice to see you again, son.”

“You too, sir,” he answered.

“What did I tell you about that, boy?  No ‘sir’ here.  Just Walter.”

“Sure.”  He looked nervous.  Thank God I wasn’t the only one.

Linda joined us with a bottle and an opener.  She twisted it on the foil a few times and pulled the cork out.  “Now, what brings you here this evening?”

She knew.  She was toying with us.

“Well,” I started, “Vince and I wanted to tell you that we’ve been… seeing each other.”

She poured the wine into a glass, a thin smile on her lips.  “Oh,” she responded.  “Well, that’s wonderful.  I’m glad to see you’re moving forward.”

I flinched.  “It’s not like that, Linda, you know that.”

She handed me a glass.  “Of course.”

Walter chimed in.  “How long has this been going on?”

“Just a short time,” I lied.  “Since Vince moved here, we’ve been spending more time together and we’ve sort of…”

Vince cut me off.  “Fallen in love.”

Shut the fuck up, Vince!

I stared at the dark hardwood floor.  “Yes.”

Walter swirled the dark liquid in his glass.  “Well, I can’t say that we’re surprised, really.  The last time you came, you two seemed… comfortable.”

“We weren’t together then,” I answered.

Vince spoke, “We were.”

Seriously, Vince?

“Well, we just started to see each other, but we weren’t together yet, really.”  I was desperate.  This had to go better than my earlier phone call to my mother.

“I understand, darling,” Linda said.  “You were upset and Vincent was there to take Ryan’s place.”

“No,” I responded.  “It wasn’t like that.  You’ve misunderstood.  This is different.”  My voice went low.

“Mrs. Stephens,” Vince said.  “I love Rachel.  This wasn’t supposed to happen this way.  I can’t tell you that I wish I’d never met her because that would be a lie.  However, it was not my intention to hurt you or your family.  That’s why we’re here.  We wanted to tell you… out of respect.”

“Respect?” Walter asked.  “You come to my house and tell me that you’re in love with my son’s wife because you ‘respect’ me?”

“Yes, sir,” he answered.  “I do.  Ryan was one of my best friends.  I loved him and so did Ray.  She still does.  But he’s gone and there’s nothing any of us can do about that.”  He paused.  “Listen, we wanted to tell you.  We knew this would be a shitty conversation and no one would be happy.  But we,” he looked to me, “are thrilled to have found each other.  I wake up every morning with a purpose.  She means everything to me.”

Linda looked to the side and nonchalantly wiped a tear from her eye.  “Well, we’re happy for you, Rachel.  Really.  Wonderful news.”  She rose from her chair and walked to the sliding glass door, opening and shutting it behind her.

“Please excuse me.”  I stood.

I felt awful leaving Vince there with Walter, but I had to talk to Linda.  We couldn’t end things this way.  I slid open the door and took a seat next to her on a lounge chair.  She stared into their ridiculously oversized pool.

“Linda…”

“Don’t,” she sniffled.  “I can’t look at you right now.”

“I love him.”

She turned to me.  “I know, honey.  I’ve got eyes.  I knew when I came to your house.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I wanted it to end.  I thought maybe he would just disappear and you would need us again.  I thought that maybe you were with him because you were upset over Ryan.”  She was crying now.  Just full-on crying.  “And then when I saw your car pull up tonight… and he was driving.”  She choked on a sob.  “I thought you were here to tell us that you were remarrying or something.”

“No, Linda.  It’s not like that.”

“But it is, darling.  I can see that boy’s face.  He is done.”

I sighed and placed my hand in hers.  “I’ll never replace Ryan.  That’s not what this is.  I just…”  I didn’t have the words.  I didn’t know what to say.  “He’s moved in with me.”

She placed her hand over her eyes, gently patting under her lids, removing tears.  “Okay.”

What did she mean, okay?

“What’s going on, Linda?  Say what you need to.  Yell at me.  Something… please.”

“I can’t yell at you, dear.  I understand what’s happening.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re getting back at him!” she shouted.  “For that whole Lisa nonsense.”

“No,” I replied.  “I forgave him for that.”

“You never did... and I don’t blame you.  Something like that can slowly kill a woman.  I know.”

What did that mean?

She continued, “Ryan told me.  He said that he didn’t love that girl, but that you would never fully forgive him.  You wouldn’t sleep with him… he tried so hard.”

My face got hot.  “Would you sleep with Walter if he did that to you?”  I was practically screaming now.

She turned, her face serious, whispering, “He has done that to me, sweetie.  What do you think?  I can’t compete with women half my age vying for his attention.  There have been a string of them everywhere.  The office, traveling, my friends, the tennis club, you name it.”  She looked at the ground.

I sat up, facing her.  “Linda…”

“No, you don’t get to feel pity for me.  I understand that you’ve found someone else.  I don’t blame you.”  Her eyes were soft now.  “I really don’t.  Honestly.”

We sat and talked for a while, opening up more than I ever had with her before.  She stood and straightened her overpriced wool pants, finishing the last of her wine.

“Now then, let’s go face the firing squad, shall we?”

When we walked back in, Vince and Walter were missing from the front room.  We found them in the den, playing a game of pool.

Um, what?

“Hello, gentlemen,” Linda said.

“About time,” Walter responded.  “You two done hashing it out?”  He walked over to me and kissed the top of my head.

“We’re fine.”  Linda focused her eyes on me.  “Better than fine.”

“Well, then, should we have a proper drink then?”

My eyes pleaded with Vince.  “Really, we have to go,” Vince said, handing his pool stick to Walter.

He took it and placed it back on the rack.  “Another time then?”

“Yes,” I said.  “Soon.”  I took my time, choosing my words carefully.  “You two are my family.  I’ve always thought of you that way.  My own mother refuses to acknowledge Vince.  I would like you to meet his parents… for a dinner or something, the next time they’re here.”

Linda walked over to Vince, placing her hand in his.  “Yes, darling.  We would love to meet them.  They are welcome in our home anytime.”

Chapter Twenty

“Baby, get a move on.  We’re gonna be late.”

I groaned, audibly.  “I’m going as fast as I can.  I can’t find anything to wear.”

“You’ve got ten thousand dresses in there.”

I shot him a look.  “Whatever.”  He was right.  I didn’t know what my problem was.  “Do we have to go to this party?”

“I don’t care, honestly, but I think that Lauren’s gonna get pissed if you miss her 40th birthday.”

She had been talking about it incessantly for the past two weeks.

“Uhhhhh,” I complained.  “My hair sucks today.”

“Don’t be a drama queen.  Just put a hat on.”

“Put a hat on?” I whined.

“Yeah.  Or wear fucking sweatpants.  I don’t care.  We can go and leave in an hour.  I can tell Lauren that you’re on your period.”  He swatted my backside.

“Don’t be smart, jackass.”

I pulled a pink-and-white chevron print shift mini dress from my closet and tugged it over my head.  “How about this one?”

Vince didn’t even look at me.  “You look hot, now let’s go.”

“You don’t even know what I’m wearing.”

“Yeah, it’s a dress.”

I threw the plastic hanger at him, missing by a mile.  He smiled and tackled me onto the bed.  “Did you just throw that at me?”

I kissed him hard.  “Can’t we just fuck and get take out?” I asked, laughing.

“Um… that sounds awesome.  But, once again, if I don’t take you to that party, I’m gonna somehow be the dick, not you.”

*

We were late, again… as usual.  I shuffled into the car, nearly thirty minutes after the party started.  We had a twenty minute drive ahead of us.  Lauren would not be thrilled.

Vince looked so good; I could barely take my eyes off of him.  I rubbed his thigh and moved my hand up towards his zipper.

“Baby, I’m driving.”

I kissed his neck.  “I know, I can see that.”

“So, that means no touching.  I can’t concentrate.”

“I can’t concentrate either,” I responded, my hand moving higher.  “You look like Clark Kent in those glasses… it’s hot.  Maybe you should pull over in that parking lot.”

He turned his head, smiling.  “What is with you tonight?”

“Nothing,” I whispered, “I just need you so much right now.”

He laughed.  “Okay, Lois, I promise, we’ll make our way to the first bathroom I see at her house and I’ll have my way with you, okay?”

“Promise?”  I lowered my head and bit the top of his thigh.  When I rose back up, I saw a set of headlights.

The sound of crushing metal overwhelmed my ears, but all I could focus on was the blood.  So much blood.

*

I stared at him in that bed for three days.  Three days, I waited for him to wake up.

The doctor said that Vince hadn’t suffered any paralysis or internal injuries.  The accident was quick.  A hit-and-run.  Not our fault.

He wasn’t waking up.  He had to wake up.

I sat at his bedside, barely sleeping, talking the entire time.

The girls were here.  Carrie brought them.

Lila said the funniest thing earlier.

Your brother and Elsa are here.  They’ve got some news.  You need to wake up so they can share, okay?

Your mom and dad are worried sick about you.

Lauren said I could take off as long as I need, so I’ll just be here.

I was babbling constantly.  Nervously.

On the third day, his eyes opened.  It was Tuesday morning.  He was groggy.  Confused.  He looked at me, but I couldn’t tell anything by his expression.  Did he know me?  Did he remember what happened?

“Vince?”  I whispered.

“Rachel,” he said, his voice hoarse.  Oh, thank God.

Immediately, I pushed the assistance button on the side of his bed.  The doctor came to take his vitals and talk to him about what had happened.

What was our next move?

How long would he be in therapy?

Would he be the same?

He sat there and listened.

I knew that he was overwhelmed.  I would be taking care of him.  I had to know everything.  When the doctor left us, I tried to help him understand.

“Hey.”  I scooted closer to him.  He held his hand out for me to take.  I pressed my lips to his cheek, kissing gently.  “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” he responded.

“I know.  You need to rest.  We were lucky.  Mostly lacerations, but you broke your foot… and you lost a lot of blood.”  That last part stung.  I was sick that we weren’t a match.  I felt so helpless.

He smiled at me.  “Okay,” he said, pausing, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

I rubbed his hand in mine.  “I’m fine.  The impact was on your side.”  I winced at the memory.

“Good.”

“Are you kidding me?  I’ve been watching you sleep for three days.  Not good.”

His voice was rough, raspy.  “It’s good for me.  I couldn’t have watched you for three days.”  He lifted his hand to brush my face.  “You said it was a hit-and-run.  Did they catch the guy?”

“No,” I responded, my face somber.

“When do we go home?”

“In a few days, I think.  They wanted to run a few tests once you were awake.  If everything is good, we should be able to get out of here.  I’ll take care of you at home.”

“I’m fine.”  He touched my bandage, just a few stitches above my eye.  “Does this hurt?”

“No,” I lied.  I had mostly forgotten about it in the past few days.  I also had a deep cut on my left thigh, but he didn’t need to know about that just yet.

“We missed the party,” he laughed.

“Lauren’s been here every day.  She feels sick about it.”

“What about Bob?”

“He knows everything.  He’s been here a few times.  Don’t worry about work.  Hey, I have something to tell you… it’s big.”

“What?” he said, looking panicked.

“Elsa and Jack… they’re… getting married.”

His eyes widened.  “How long have I been out?” he joked.

“I guess things have been a lot more serious over there than we thought.  He wanted to wait until you woke up, but Elsa cracked.  They went home really early this morning, but he said they’d be back in a few days.  Work stuff, I guess.”

“Wow,” he replied.  “That’s big, for sure.”  He looked a little somber.  “It’s great though.  I’ll call him a little later.  I’m just really tired.”

He rolled to his side, his eyes heavy from the medication.

“Sleep, honey.”  I kissed his lips softly, waiting for him to wake up again.

*

Vince was released on Thursday night.  He was walking stiffly, but other than that, he was mostly back to normal.  He had to wear a boot for the next five weeks, but he felt relieved.  After some minor therapy, he would make a full recovery.  He was glad to be home, he told me often.

Belle and Anthony had been staying with us for the week.  I had a few projects to wrap up at work by Friday; they wanted to make sure that he was taken care of.  I was grateful to them.  I couldn’t stand leaving him during the day.

Belle washed dishes, did laundry, cleaned around him while he slept.  “Stay in that bed, baby.  You need rest.”  She sat with him, singing songs, talking.

“I think I’m going to try to get a nap, Mamma.”  I heard him say this often.

“Il mio bambino.  Sleep.”

She pulled his covers to his neck and kissed him on the forehead.  “Buonanotte, miele.”

*

Friday evening, I woke Vince at 5.  I wasn’t done with my project, but Lauren shoved me out the door.  She knew I was a nervous wreck.  I kissed his neck and slid in behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist.  “Hi,” I whispered.  “I’ve missed you all day.  You feel okay?”

He pushed back and craned his neck to kiss my lips.  He turned and faced me, pushing his mouth against mine.

“Honey, slow down.  I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m fine,” he breathed.  “Just kiss me.”

I pulled him closer, but my lips were guarded.  I was so worried about him.

He broke the kiss, staring at me.  “Ray, for Christ’s sake, will you kiss me already?  I’m not going to break.”

I smiled.  “I just got you back.  I’ve been worried sick about you all day.  I’m not going to take any chances.”  I rubbed his side.  “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, dear,” he responded, smiling.

“I mean it, Vin.  You need to rest... and eat.”

“What I need is for you to stop acting like I’m some kind of china doll.”  He pushed closer.  “Now, get on top of me,” he said, smiling.

“No can do, sweetie.  I’m going to cook you dinner.  Your parents went out to grab something and take a walk on the trail.  They won’t be back for at least a few hours.  So, we can have some time together.”

He sat up.  “Good.”

I ran my fingers through his wild hair.  “Let’s eat.”

He pouted.  “I don’t want to eat.”

“Doctor says you have to eat something.  You’re taking like forty pills.”

Vince pulled the covers back and tugged at my dress, lifting it over my head.  He kissed my stomach and trailed his fingers down my hips.  “Well, baby, I’m not hungry for food.”  He licked around my navel, causing me to shiver.  He was trying to distract me.  I knew his game.

I gripped the back of his hair.  “Please… stop,” I whispered.  I didn’t want him to stop.  “Doctor says no sex this week.  Too much jostling.”

He laughed.

“Hey, his words, not mine,” I giggled.

“But… he didn’t say anything about kissing.”  He pressed his lips into my hips, my stomach, my breasts, my legs.  I let out a soft moan when he swept his tongue over my inner thigh.

“God, Vince.”

He hooked his thumbs into the strings of my thong and tugged them over my hips, drawing them down.  I squirmed.

“Relax, Ray,” he warned.

I missed him so much.

For approximately one minute, possibly less, he teased me with his tongue.  That was how long it took before I screamed out a climax that was more intense than I had ever experienced in my entire life.  Sixty seconds.

Vince propped up on his elbow, looking oh-so-proud of himself.  He smacked me on the hip and gave a short laugh.  “You alright, babe?”

I stared at the ceiling, panting and basking in the aftermath of my freakishly breakneck orgasm.  I gave him a thumbs-up.

“Come on, then.  Food,” he said, bouncing on the edge of the bed.

I put my arm over my eyes, trying to catch my breath.  “Vince?” I breathed.

“Yesss?”

“Thank you,” I drawled, rolling over onto my stomach.  I spread my arms wide, nestling into the pillow.

He grabbed me by the waist.  “Up you go, lazy.  Put some clothes on so we can eat.”  He smacked me on the bottom.

I growled.  “Oh, now you want to eat?”

“Lady, come on.  I mean it,” he teased.  “I need you to fuel up.  I’ve got plans for what you’re going to do to me later.”

I turned and smiled at him.  “But you need your rest,” I whined.

“Are you serious right now?”  He nabbed my dress from the floor and threw it at me.  “If you don’t get up, I’m going to withhold all sexual activities from here on out.”

I swung my legs over the side.  “Fine.  What do you want me to make?”

*

“Jack and Elsa want to come this weekend,” Vince announced after dinner.

“Is that right?”

I smiled at him.  When they were at the hospital, it was obvious that something was going on, but when Elsa finally broke, I still couldn’t wrap my head around their news to save my life.  Getting married?  She hadn’t even told me that they were really together.

“How did my mom take it?” he asked.

“She didn’t seem surprised, oddly enough.  It’s totally nuts, right?”

“I guess.  Kind of.  Jack’s always been pretty spontaneous though.”  He wrapped his arms around me and leaned in for a kiss.  “Want to go outside and sit on the patio?  We haven’t done that in a while.”

“Yeah,” I said.  “Let me go change though.  I need yoga pants or something.”

*

We sat on the loveseat together.  He leaned on my shoulder and leisurely rubbed my stomach.

“You’re feeling better,” I speculated.

He sat up.  “Ray?”

“Yeah?”

Oh, boy.  He looked serious.

“Do you think you’ll want to marry me someday?  I know I said I wouldn’t ask again, and I’m not, but… after the accident, I’ve just been thinking…”

I cut him off.  “Yes.”

He stood from the sofa and dropped to his knees in front of me.

Oh God, oh God, oh God… please don’t ask me now.

He buried his head in my lap and dug his fingers into the tops of my thighs.  I winced.  My stitches were still healing.

“Seriously?” he whispered.

“Don’t ask me yet.”

“What?”  He looked confused.

“Just trust me.  I won’t make you wait long, I promise, but you can’t ask today.”

His face lifted.  “Soon, then.”

It was silly.  A formality.

He leaned in and kissed me roughly, biting my bottom lip.  “I can’t wait.”

*

Work on Monday was a hustle.  I went from one meeting straight into the next.  Everyone came by my desk to ask about the accident.  Word had spread fast.

So glad to hear that you and your husband are okay.  I heard this more than once.

Lauren sent me an I.M. around 4.

Get in here.  I want to talk to you for a sec.

I walked into her office a few minutes later.  She motioned for me to close the door.  I took a seat across from her.

“What’s up?”

“You and Vince?  How is he?”

“He’s good.  Well, he seems fine.”

“You ready?”

I paused.  “Yeah, I guess, right?”

I had told her my intentions.

“Oh, God, Rach… this is fucking huge.  What do you think he’ll say?”

I scrubbed my face with my hands.   “I hope yes.”

“What about you?  You look stressed.”

“Here’s what I’m stressed about.”  I took my voice down to a whisper.  “I think most of these people here think that it was Ryan that was in the accident with me.  Does no one remember the email that went out about him, you know… dying?”

She lifted her hand, gesturing with her middle finger.  “Ah, fuck these bitches.  Go.  You’ve got a date.”

I stood up and straightened my dress.  “Wish me luck.”

*

My hands were swollen.  Fuck.  I tugged and pulled at the ring on my finger for five minutes.  Soap, lotion, twisting.  Finally!

I studied it for a few minutes and gave it one final cleaning before placing it in a little velvet pouch.  I arranged it in the back of my jewelry box.

What to wear.  I changed out of my black work dress into a sleeveless, ivory lace one with a scalloped hemline.  It had a deep V in the back and was crazy short.  I pulled on a pair of orange patent leather wedges.  Clipping a matching orange accent pin in my hair, I reapplied my lip gloss for the millionth time.

I was a wreck.  I had moisturized, coiffed, waxed, planned… but my nerves were shot.  This was the night that would change our lives forever.

*

“Vince?” I yelled.

“Coming,” he responded, hobbling out of the office.  I knew his boot was uncomfortable.

Ugh.  Why was I so nervous?   I straightened my dress and took in a few deep breaths.

“Hurry.  We’re going to be late.”

I checked my lip gloss in the mirror again, keys in hand.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” I responded.

“I’m excited.”  He smiled.

“Let me grab a jacket really fast.”

I went to the front closet and pulled my thin, black leather jacket from the hanger.  It was cropped and adorned with grommets.  I loved it and hadn’t worn it since last spring.  It fit like a glove.

“Wow, you look fantastic.  That dress is…”  He didn’t finish the sentence.  He just smiled, flashing his dimple.  He looked so amazing.

“Thanks.  So do you.”  I clutched the front of his shirt and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.  “Every girl will be jealous of me tonight.”

It was typical for a late September evening in Indiana; cool and a bit crisp.  Vince was wearing dark jeans with cuffs, a white Breeders t-shirt, boots (well, one boot) and a black slim fit leather jacket.  We matched!

I armed the alarm and held my hand out for him to take.  I laced my fingers in his and held our clasped hands with my free one.  I didn’t want to let him go for even one minute.

I opened his door for him and waited for him to get settled, helping arrange his foot.  I bent down and pressed a light kiss to his lips.  “I love you.”

He cupped my face in his hands.  “I love you too.  So much.”

*

We drove to the park just a few miles from our house.

“What are we doing here?” he asked.

“You’ll see.  Come on.”  I walked over to his side and opened the door.  Stopping at the trunk, I popped the lid and grabbed a packed bag and two low seat beach chairs.

The closer we got, the more people there were.  Chairs were strewn throughout the grass.

I took the chairs and opened them, positioning them towards the back of the crowd.  “Let’s sit back here.  More private.”

There was a huge screen mounted to the side of the fence.  “A movie?”

“Yes.”

Once he was settled in his chair, I dug in the bag and produced a blanket.  I laid it on top of both of our legs.  “In case you get cold.”  He shuffled his chair closer to mine.  “Oh, I almost forgot!”

I dug back in the bag and brought out a bottle of champagne and two plastic cups.  I popped the plastic stopper and poured us each a glass.

“Are we celebrating?” he asked, nudging my arm.

“Oh, yes,” I teased.

We talked for a few minutes when the screen came to life.

He turned to me, recognizing the opening right away.  It was Scott Pilgrim vs. The World.  Vince and I had seen it a few months back on cable and had both insanely loved it.  When I told him that I thought it was the most romantic film I had ever seen, he laughed at me.  We constantly quoted it to each other.  Sometimes, he would call me his “Ramona.”

He squeezed my hand.  “Oh my God, did you do this?”

“You mean, did I rent out the whole park so that we could watch this movie together?  No.”  I laughed.  “I got a Nuvo and saw that it was playing here tonight.  I guess I thought it was a sign.”  I handed him a big bag of Skittles.  “Your favorite.”

He laid his head on my shoulder.  “You are so getting some tonight, Stephens.”  He rubbed his thumb over my ring finger, as he often did.  “Hey,” he said, his face soft.  “You took it off.”

I nodded and stared at the screen, pushing back a lump in my throat.  I was ending it with Ryan.  I would always have our memories, but that was the last piece tying us together.  Once I took that ring off, I could forget.

After the movie, we gathered our things and trudged back to the car.  Vince held my hand.  I could tell his foot was bothering him.

“Rachel?”

I turned, recognizing the voice.  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Trent, hi!  Hillary!”

Trent and Ryan had been best friends since childhood.  They had gone to school together from elementary to their senior year.  When Ryan and I decided to move to Indiana, Trent was beyond thrilled.  He had never left the area and was excited that he and Ryan could reconnect.  He also wanted his wife out of the house and pushed her on me as often as possible.  I couldn’t stand her.

“Wow, I haven’t seen you in ages,” he replied.

The funeral.  That was the last time.

“Yeah, what’s been going on?”  I pulled my fingers from Vince’s.  I was sure they had noticed, but I felt exposed.  Ashamed.  For the most part, my relationship with Vince had been mine.  I had let a few friends in, but we were private.

“Well, Hillary and I are pregnant!”

“Oh, wow, that’s so great,” I replied.

“You look so good,” he said.  Hillary shot him a look.

“Thank you.”  I turned to Vince.  “Vince, this is Ryan’s friend, Trent, and his wife, Hillary.  Guys, this is Vince Conti.  He and Ryan went to Northwestern together.”

Trent took Vince’s hand and gave it a hard shake.  “Ah, how’s it goin, man?”

Vince nodded and tried to smile.  “Nice to meet you both.”

Trent turned to me.  “How are you these days?  Hanging in there?”  His voice was sympathetic.

“I’m good.”  My eyes darted to Vince.  “Just busy.  Really busy.  Work and everything.”

“Yeah, I hear you.  So, Vince, what do you do?”

“I work at a recording studio downtown.”

Trent looked impressed.  “Whoa, like a record producer or something?”

“More like a booking agent,” his answer was clipped.  He was not having fun anymore.  I needed to end this conversation.

“We really have to go.  We’ve got dinner reservations,” I chimed in.  “It was so nice to see you.  And congratulations again, Hillary.  Both of you.”

Trent leaned in and gave me a brief hug.  “Call me if you need anything.  I’m just a phone call away.”

I gave a weak wave to Hillary and we continued to the car.  I tried to take Vince’s hand back, but he pulled it away, shifting the chairs in his arm.

We got in the car.  He wouldn’t let me help him, slamming the door.

“What’s the matter?”

He turned to face me.  “Do I embarrass you?”

“Oh, God, no.”  I leaned in and pushed my lips to his.  “I hate those people.”  I kind of did.

“Why didn’t you introduce me as your boyfriend?  Why did you let go of my hand?  You said I was Ryan’s friend from Northwestern?  You acted like we were fucking friends, Ray.”

He was right.  I don’t know why I did that.  Eventually, we would run into more people.  Different situations.  I did treat him like a friend.  It nauseated me that I could do that to him.

“I’m so sorry.  I panicked.  They were the first people we’ve really run into since Ryan died.  I promise, that will never happen again.”  I brushed my thumb across the side of his neck.  “Super-mega promise.  Swear it.”

He gave me a smile, but it was tight lipped.  He wasn’t buying it.  He pulled his glasses from their case, sliding them on.  Why did those things turn me on so ridiculously?

“Push your seat back.”

“It’s pushed all the way back already.  Why?”  He stared straight ahead, his voice still a little cool.

“Because I want to fuck you in those glasses.”  I brushed the front of his pants.

He looked around the parking lot.  It was mostly empty now.  “Here?”

“Yes, here,” I breathed.

“Ray, we’re two minutes from the house.”

I licked the side of his neck.  “I can’t wait two minutes.”

He grabbed my waist and shuffled me across his lap, my legs spread at his sides.  He shifted his booted leg over to the driver’s side, giving me a little room to move.  I lowered my hands to his waist, unbuttoning him, sliding his zipper down, easing him out of his boxers slowly.  He moved his hands from my hips to under my dress, moving my underwear aside, slowly pushing in.

“Oh, God,” I cried, leaning my back against the dashboard.  I smacked my hand on the glass by accident.

Vince laughed and pulled me closer.  “Be careful, babe.  We’re gonna get arrested.”  He dragged his tongue over my breastbone.

I could feel every movement.  He felt incredible.  He gripped the back of my jacket and pushed into me over and over, never breaking eye contact.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“Marry me,” I breathed.

Oh my God, did I just ask him to marry me mid-thrust?

I moved faster, grinding my hips into his, gripping the back of his neck with my fingernails.  I could feel a coil in my abdomen.  I wasn’t going to last another thirty seconds.

“Marry me, Vince,” I said, once more.  I pushed my body into his, slowing my movements, watching him closely.  I couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else, with anyone else… ever.

“Yes.”  His body slowed, moving at an easy pace, studying me carefully.  “Yes,” he repeated.

He clutched my side with his left hand and moved his free hand under my dress, speeding up the process.  I arched my back, clenching his neck, my nails concentrated in his skin.  I shattered against his thumb, whimpering softly.

“I love you so much,” he whispered before stilling inside of me.

Once we could breathe again, we both started to laugh, our bodies still connected.

“Did you just ask me to marry you?”  He was grinning widely.

“Did you just say yes?”

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.  “I did.”  He swatted my behind.  “Let’s get home before we have to spend the night in county lockup, Mrs. Conti.”

Oh my God.  I would soon be Mrs. Conti.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his grandmother’s ring.

“I always carry this, just in case,” he said, sliding the delicate diamond band onto my left hand.  It fit perfectly.

Chapter Twenty-One

Vince wanted to get married right away.  If I would have gone along with it, we would have been at the courthouse on Tuesday morning.  I wanted an actual wedding.  Not like my first one, with no one present.  I wanted a memorable day.  Nothing showy or ridiculous, just fifty or so of our friends and family, saying our vows in the garden of the house we shared together.

I promised him six weeks.  November 2nd.  That’s how long it would take me to pull this off.  We designed our invitations together.  They were informal and fun, using vintage video game fonts and pixelated hearts.  We received them a week later.  They were priceless; exactly how we imagined.

*

Elsa and Jack came into town on the first Saturday of October.   She and I spent the day shopping for a dress while the boys went shopping for Vince.  I had no idea what he would wear.  He just said he wasn’t wearing a tux.  That’s all I had to go on.

We tried a million different dresses, but I knew the moment I zipped it up.  It was a light shade of pearl pink lace.  Capped sleeve, just above the knee, a raw silk long bow in the same color hanging at its natural waistline.  It was simple and beautiful.  No embellishments, no starchy underpinnings.

I asked the salesgirl for a swatch of the material.  I would give it to Vince as a tease.

Elsa sat on the loveseat in the showroom.  “Do a spin.”

I shot her a look.  “Really?”

“That dress is fucking cute.  You look like Audrey Hepburn.  Ooooh, you need a thick headband!”

“Huh.  Maybe.  It’s not a bad idea.”  I paused.  “What’s Jack gonna wear?”

“Don’t fucking start.”

I threw my hands up.  “I’m not.  I’m just saying, I can’t believe you guys are getting fucking married.  What the hell has been happening over there?”

This conversation was weird.  This was Vince’s brother and my sister.

“Um… I’m not sure how to tell you this, so I guess I’m just gonna.  We kind of already got married.”  She squealed aloud.

I plopped down next to her on the sofa.  “Are you serious?”  My eyes went wide.

“Yes, it’s insane.  I’ve been dying to tell you… I don’t know why I waited.  I guess it’s because Jack got divorced not that long ago... I love him like crazy.  And the sex?  It’s stupid hot.”

Ew.  My brother-in-law.

I smacked her on the leg.  “Will you shut up?  Your voice has one level.  Loud.  And are you fucking serious?” I yelled in a whisper.  “Married?”

“We just decided to do it.  It was just last Friday.  We wanted to tell you guys in person.  We’re gonna have a reception at the house, but not until after your wedding.”

“Oh my God… I just can’t believe it.  Why didn’t you call us?  We would have come up.”

“You had so much going on… your own wedding stuff.  I just didn’t want to mess anything up.”

I studied her.  “So, what did Mom say?”

She smiled sheepishly.  “She doesn’t know.”

“What?” I practically screamed.  The salesgirl scoffed at us.

“And you better not fucking tell her either.”

“So, you’re just going to be secretly married now?  You’re not even gonna tell her?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, peeling at her nail polish.  “I will.  Just… not today.”

“Holy shit, El.  You just went to the JP or something?”

“Yeah, I just bought a dress in the morning and met him on the steps.”

So romantic.

“Oh my God.”  I leaned in and wrapped her in my arms.  “I just can’t believe… this is nuts, you know.”

“Are you surprised?” she asked.

“Um… yeah.  Isn’t that the point of an elopement?  To surprise the crap out of everyone?”

“I guess.  Mom’s gonna be pissed.  I can’t wait.”

I laughed aloud and stood, facing her.  “So, this is the one, you think?” I asked, looking down at the dress.

“Oh, yeah.  You should probably shorten it though.  Show him what you’re workin with.”

I rolled my eyes at her.  My little sister.  Freakin married.

*

I did a rush order on the dress.  After it came in, I tried it on a dozen times each week to make sure it still fit.  I did take Elsa’s advice and shortened it a few inches.  It was perfect.

Whew.

I loved that dress.  I couldn’t wait to wear it for Vince on our wedding day.  I was getting more anxious by the day.

November weather in Indiana was risky.  It was different from hour to hour.  It could snow or be 60 degrees.  Vince was convinced that we had to get married in the garden at our house.  He was right, it was beautiful.  I spent so much time out there, tending to my flowers.  It felt like a waste to have the ceremony inside.  We watched the weather every morning as our wedding day approached.

“Hey, what do you think about music? Should we hire a band or something?”

I sat beside him on the couch and ran my fingers through his hair.  “I don’t know, probably not.  We have neighbors.  What about asking Bob to do it or something?  Didn’t he used to be a DJ?”

He leaned in and kissed me.  “You’re so smart.  I’ll call him later.  Come up with a playlist, maybe.”

“Or… ‘Kiss Me Till Midnight’ could play,” I teased.

He smacked me lightly on the back.  “Smart ass.”

“Oh, just make sure he plays Ludacris’s “Get Back.”   I smiled widely.  “Elsa’s favorite.”

He laughed.  “Really?”

“Oh yeah, Els and I know that whole song from beginning to end.  I’ve got mad rap skills.  You didn’t know?  I’m a true baller.”  I laughed.

“Is that right?  Well, this I’ve got to see.”

“I don’t have the song… sorry,” I replied, grinning.

“Oh, honey, welcome to the digital age… if you’re going to rap right now, I can pull it up in sixty seconds.  Please?” he begged.

“Fine.”  I stood in front of him and did a few lunges, laughing at myself.

Vince found the song (of course) and plugged his laptop into the speaker system.  “You’re up, baby.”

“Heads up… Heads up… Here’s another one.  And a… and another one,” I started, walking in a slow circle, doing a low bounce.

Why you all in my ear?

Talkin’ a whole bunch of shit that I ain’t tryin’ to hear.

Get back, mothafucka, you don’t know me like that…

Get BACK, mothafucka, you don’t know me like THAT!

I swung my arms towards him in true hip-hop style, causing him to nearly split his face smiling.

So, so come on, come on… don’t get swung on, swung on…

It’s the knick knack paddy whack…

Still ridin Cadillacs…

Family off the street made my homies put the baggies back!

Vince’s face was priceless, but I continued my act, turning my back to him and giving him a Beyoncé-style ass shake.

We in the Red Light Dis-TRICT!

The Red Light District…

Four minutes later, Vince was literally clutching and biting a throw pillow, staring a hole into me.  When I finished my “performance,” he laughed so hard, I felt embarrassed.

“Hey,” I warned, “no making fun!  You begged me to see that, so now you have to live with the image forever.  That’s on you.”

He pulled me into his lap and kissed me hard.  It ended too soon.  “Do you want to just go down to the courthouse today?  I don’t think I can let another day go by without being married to you.”

I punched him in the chest lightly and shuffled to my feet.  “Shut up.  You’re mean.”

“I’m not.  What just happened here was literally one of the best things I’ve ever seen in my life.”

I changed the subject.  “What do you want to do about cake?”

“Baby, don’t be embarrassed.”

I repeated my question, this time with a smile on my lips.  “What do you want to do about cake?”

“My mom wants to do it.  Is that okay?”

“Elsa could do it.  I mean, she makes these elaborate, beautiful cakes at the bakery all of the time.”

“You want her to have to make the cake and then figure out how to transport it three hours in Jack’s truck?”

“You’re right.  Your mom should do it.”

Besides, if it was anything like her doughnuts…

“She’s excited anyway.  Let her have this.”  He smiled.

“Of course.  What kind is she making?”

He shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Does it matter?”

“No, I guess not.”

All of our decisions had been like this, thankfully.  A thirty second conversation that ended with Eh, I don’t care.  We just wanted to be married.  He was the first man I knew that was dying to have a ring on his finger.

I had picked it up from the jeweler last week.  It was a simple 3mm platinum band with a matte finish.  I hoped he would love it.

“Two weeks, honey.”  He nudged my leg.

“I can’t believe we are still trying to do so much stuff last minute.  I should have planned better.”

“We’re getting married at home.  The invitations are mailed.  My mom’s making the food.  You’re doing your own flowers.  We’ve got lights, candles… it’s going to be great.  I don’t give a shit about any of that anyway.  I only care about you in that pink dress, me finally getting to call you by my last name.”

“I’m thinking about going back to my maiden name, actually,” I teased.

“Oh, yeah?”  He tackled me onto the floor, kissing me.

“Sure.”

He pulled his head up.  “Are you serious?”

I kissed him hard.  “No, dummy.”

His sigh was audible.  Last week, on the phone, I heard him make a hotel reservation for “Vince and Rachel Conti.”  I had never heard his voice lift as much as it did with that one sentence.

“Thank God.”  He laughed softly.

“Why is it such a big deal?”

“It just is.  It makes my heart ache thinking of you as Rachel Stephens.  Or Black, for that matter.  I know it sounds totally caveman, but you’re mine.  I guess I want everyone to know,” he said, lightly rubbing between my legs.

I laid my head in the crook of his neck.  “I do want to.  I can’t wait.”

I couldn’t.  I wanted to write my soon-to-be name a thousand times on a piece of notebook paper like a thirteen year old.

“Have you written your vows yet?”

Oh God, I still needed to do that.

“Mm, well, I have some ideas.”  I looked up at him.  “Have you?”

He brushed my lips with his finger.  “I know what I want to say to you.”

“Hey, I know we aren’t going to have a typical ‘aisle,’ but do you think your dad will want to walk with me?”

He studied my face, a few tears forming in the corners of his eyes.  “God,” he responded, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“What’s the matter?”  I rubbed his back.

He laughed lightly.  “All of this wedding stuff is turning me into a total pussy.  I need to go shoot some cans or go fly fishing… something.”

“I know what will make you feel a little more masculine,” I teased, unbuttoning his pants.

He punched a serious hole in his man card that morning, right there on our living room floor.  Twice.

*

It was Tuesday.  Only four days until our wedding.  On Friday, we were expecting a house full of people.  Elsa and Jack would come first, followed by his parents, my mother, and a few friends of Vince’s from Chicago.

They were all staying at hotels, thankfully, but they would most likely be here all day.  They were going to help us set up and prepare.

I spent that evening after work writing my vows.  I sat at the computer, staring into a blank screen.  What would I say to the man who would be my husband?   I started to type.

Vince had other ideas.

He came into my office, touching my shoulders, giving them a squeeze.  I shut my laptop.

“What’cha writing?” he asked, smiling.

“Ugh.  Vows.  I’m just gonna say ‘I do’ and that’s it.”

He spun my chair around and lowered himself to his knees in front of me.  He ran his hands up the front of my thighs.  “You’re wearing pants.”

“Yeah?”

“So, you never wear pants to work.  I was really hoping you were wearing a dress.”

Oh, boy.

I put my hands in his hair and gave it a tug.  “Baby, I’m trying to get this done.”

He tugged at my tucked blouse and ran his tongue across my navel.  “And I’m trying to get this done,” he responded, unbuttoning my wool trousers.

“Vince,” I breathed.

He drew my zipper and put his hand down the front of my satin underwear.  “Come on.  My whole family will be here soon and there is no way I’m going to go one more minute without being inside of you.”

I sighed.  “Give me ten minutes.  Go to our room.  I’ll meet you there.  Promise.”

He dragged his hand out of the material slowly, causing me to shiver.  “Ten minutes,” he said, disappearing from the room.  I watched his slow pace.  His lazy walk was one of my favorite things about him.

Thank God he got that boot off yesterday.

I typed a few final lines and unbuttoned my shirt, followed by my pants.  I pulled my bra and underwear off and took a glance at myself in the full-length mirror.  I turned sideways and sucked in.  “Ugh,” I complained, talking aloud to myself.  “No candy for the rest of the week.”

I walked from the office to the bedroom, crawling into bed next to Vince.  He was watching me, a soft smile on his lips.

“Come here.”

*

On Thursday, I took off of work, planning to get some things done around the house.  When I went to the mailbox in the morning, it was full.  I guess we had forgotten to check it for a few days.  It was mostly bills, but there was a letter from the blood center addressed to me dated October 25th.  Lauren had hosted a drive at our office a few weeks earlier; she was still feeling guilty about the accident.

Dear Ms. Stephens,

Thank you for your donating to the Liberty Blood Center.  However, we are unable to accept your donation at this time.  Please do not hesitate to contact any of our branches should you have any questions.

Test results: Positive Pregnancy

Sincerely,

Marla Johnson

Director

Donor Recruitment and Client Services

I read it three times.  Positive Pregnancy.

I shoved the letter in my purse and drove straight to the drug store.  This couldn’t be happening.  I was on the pill.  Wasn’t I?  I had been taking it, right?  We weren’t planning for this.

My hands were shaking as I paid the clerk for my tests.  “Good luck,” she whispered.  Ugh.

I took one.  Shit!

I took a second.  Different brand.  Shit!

I took a third.  Well, fuck.

I knew Vince would most likely be ecstatic.  I couldn’t tell him today.  We had a wedding to get through.  Just a few more days.

*

The house was bustling with activity leading up to the ceremony.  Vince made me sit down a thousand times, afraid everything was too “stressful” on me.  If he only knew.  He was being ridiculous but, honestly, it was nice to get the help.

Elsa was in charge of the decorations.  Her tastes were different than mine, but she made everything look beautiful.  We chose pink roses, orange gerbera daisies and black calla lilies.  They were all such different varieties, but looked so exquisite together.  We made my bouquet on Friday night using all pink roses and one single lily in on the outside.  Elsa’s arrangements were so elegant; it made me think she had missed her calling as a florist.

My mother had arrived on Friday as well.  She sat at the table with Elsa and me, counting out favors and putting them in mesh bags.

“So,” she began, “you’re getting married again.”

“Don’t, Mama.”  I didn’t need to listen to her complain about my life choices.

“Rachel, I didn’t say anything.  I like Vincent.”

She what?

I scoffed.  “You do, huh?”

“I do.  He seems like a good man.  He certainly is handsome, that’s for sure.   I talked with both him and Jack quite a bit earlier this evening.  He’s very charming.”

Elsa and I made eye contact.  What?

I placed my bouquet on the table and studied her.  “Yeah?  What did you guys talk about?  How disappointed you were in me?”

“No, darling.  Quite the opposite.  I’ve been worried about you.”

I picked the flowers back up and wrapped them in plastic.  Elsa took them from me and placed them in the refrigerator.

“Uh huh,” I replied.

“Listen to me,” she said.  “I was worried about you because you’ve always been the sensible one.”

Elsa piped up now.  “I can fucking hear you, Mom.”

“Elsa Jane, don’t test me.  I can’t even look at you right now… running off and getting married like some pregnant high school girl.”

When my mother turned her back, Elsa gave her a double bird.  Classy.

“I’m still sensible, Mama, even though I know you think I’m making a mistake.”

She cleared her throat.  “I never said that.  I will say this once, so listen.  I am proud of you.  I may not be thrilled about you getting married again so soon, but that’s done.  But… I am excited about being a grandmother someday.”

Oh God, did she know?

“You are?”

“I may not have always been the best mother to you girls, but I’ve tried.  I’ve always wanted another chance.”

“Seriously?”  I shot her a look.  “You’ve never once said that,” I barked, my eyes darting to Elsa, “to either of us, Mom.”

“Yes, well,” she responded, placing her hands in her lap.  “I should probably get back to the hotel.  We’ve got a big day tomorrow.  Come, Elsa.”

“Jack’s picking me up later,” Elsa said.

My mother groaned audibly.  “Those boys are going to be out late.  You need your rest.”

“We probably won’t get a lot of sleep.  We’re gonna practice making you a grandbaby.”

Was she trying to purposefully kill our mother?

My mom stood and placed her hands on the table, leaning into it.  “Elsa, get your goddamn purse and let’s go.  Now!”

My mother never swore.  This was serious.

“Alright, alright.  Keep your pants on, woman,” Elsa whispered, smiling.

She walked over to me and threw her arms around my neck.  “Love you, sissy.  Can’t wait to get our drink on tomorrow.  Shots, sucka!”

My mother grabbed Elsa at the elbow like she did when we acted up as teenagers.  “Come, honey, now.”  Her voice was softer, but she was not thrilled with my sister.  She leaned in to me and gave me a small peck on my cheek.  “Tomorrow then, dear.”

Yes, tomorrow.  In less than 24 hours, I would be Mrs. Rachel Louise Conti.

Chapter Twenty-Two

It was the first night I had spent alone in months.  Without Vince in bed, I tossed and turned for half of it.  He insisted on sleeping apart the night before our wedding.  Belle and Anthony were both superstitious and had passed their paranoia onto their son.

I checked the weather.  This morning, it was 52 degrees and sunny.  Yes!

I needed coffee.  My house was decorated way too beautifully to ruin it by dragging the pot out of the closet and grinding beans.  I decided to take my alone time and walk down to the Starbucks.

Ugh.  I probably had to start drinking decaf now.

While putting some necessary pins in my hair to tame my morning nest, I picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hello?”

“Linda?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Hi, it’s Rachel.”

“Hi, darling.  I almost didn’t recognize your voice.”

“Hey, do you want to meet me for a coffee this morning, maybe?”

“That would be wonderful.”

Twenty minutes later, my soon-to-be-ex mother-in-law sat across from me at a table, holding my hand.

“Today’s the big day,” she whispered.  “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I said.  “I know it’s fast, but I feel really good about it.”

“You seem different, too.”  She looked distressed.

“I’m pregnant,” I blurted.  Why did I say that?  I hadn’t told anyone, not even Vince.

“Oh,” she said, quietly.  She took a slow sip of her coffee.  “How far?”

“I have no idea.  I got this,” I said, digging in my purse.  I handed her the letter.

She looked it over.  “You should find out for sure.”

I sighed.  “I took three tests.”

“I meant you should find out how far along you are.  What does Vince think about all of this?”

“He doesn’t know.  I only got that yesterday.  I figured I should wait until after the wedding.”

“Don’t wait too long,” she said, looking down at her cup.  “He’ll think you were hiding it.”

“Please don’t say anything yet,” I pleaded.  I changed the subject, shifting it to the real reason I called.  “I wanted to meet you today because I needed you to know that I’m not replacing Ryan.  Yes, some awful things happened to us and I didn’t always trust him.”  My voice got soft.  “But… I always loved him.  That’s why I stayed.  I really felt like he was the love of my life.”

She looked out the window, dabbing the insides of her eyes with her long square fingernails.

I continued, “So, in a totally twisted turn of events, Ryan helped me to find Vince.”  I paused.  “And this baby.  I’ll be forever grateful for that.  And I’m happy again.”

She smiled, but it was weak.  I hoped that someday, she could forgive me.  “So,” she said, “what kind of help do you need today?”

Whew.

“Nothing, really.  Just come a half hour before it starts, I guess.  I really appreciate you and Walter being there.”

“You’re our daughter,” she said, standing.  “Where else would we be?”

*

After the coffee, I popped into one of the nail places in the Village.  I came out with a chic pale pink French manicure.  She painted my toes in a sheer shade of rose.

Vince had taken all of his wedding garments to Jack’s hotel, so I wouldn’t see him until our ceremony.

It was almost noon now.  We would be married in six and a half hours.

How long would it take me to get ready?

I texted Vince.

Me: Had coffee with Linda.

Vince: How was that?

Me: Painful, but okay.

Vince: I can’t wait to marry you.  Happy Wedding Day.

Me: Me too.  I don’t know when to get ready.

Vince: It takes you 30 min during the week.

Me: It’s my wedding day.

Vince: So take an hour.  Go do something fun today.

Me: Okay. XOXO.

Vince:  I love you.

Next, I texted Elsa.

Me: Hey, what are you doing?

Elsa: Just woke up.

Me: Wanna get waxed?

Elsa: Um, no.

Me: Come on.  I’ve heard that boys like the Brazilians.

Elsa: Fuck those boys.  I like to rock a full bush.

Way too much information.

Me: Okay, what about the lingerie shop?

Elsa: The nice lingerie shop or the disgusting one?

Me: Disgusting?

Elsa: Be there in 15.

She wasn’t lying.  Fifteen minutes later, she pulled up in Jack’s truck, giving one long honk.  God, she was irritating.

Elsa talked the whole way to the store.  She rattled on about Jack.  What time he woke her up the night before… what time they finally got to bed.  She described some “wheelbarrow” position they had tried out in way too much detail.

I walked around the lingerie section for a while, finally deciding on a low-cut black ruffled baby doll nightie and a matching black thong with a pink bow.  It was actually fairly tasteful.  Half of the clothes in there were missing major parts.

When Elsa checked out, she had a vinyl stud skirt, some strawberry nipple gel, a skull corset, a pair of see-through mesh boy shorts, chocolate body paint, something called a “cock-sweller,” a pair of knee high stiletto boots and a how-to shower video.

What the hell were she and Jack doing over there?

“Think you’ve got it all?” I teased, hefting her three bags into the trunk.

She rolled her eyes at me.  “That stuff,” she said, throwing a thumb towards the back, “helps keep the dream alive, sister.”

“Please tell me you’re not wearing any of that to my wedding.”

“Not that you’ll know about.  Jack may be wearing something.”  She smiled.  Eww.  “Now, let’s go get ready for this fucking thing.”

*

My mother and Elsa helped with makeup and getting dressed.  Belle worked on the food downstairs. Elsa had braided my long bangs and pinned them behind my ear, fastening a single small, white lily there.  Luckily, my mother worked for twenty years behind a Clinique counter.  My makeup looked flawless.  I did insist on wearing my strawberry lip gloss though.  It was Vince’s favorite.

I carefully pulled on my dress.  Elsa zipped the back.  I tied the bow in front and made sure that it fell in just the right place.  I had purchased a pair of closed toed heels a few weeks before, but I felt bad covering up my super-cute pedicured feet.  It was less than sixty degrees outside though; I had to wear them.

My mother walked up behind me and placed her hand on my back.  “What a lovely dress.  I don’t like this big tattoo on your back though.  You should have picked something higher.”

I sighed.

She turned me towards her and handed me a small, white pouch.  “For you.”

I shook the bag in my hand.  Two small rose colored heart earrings fell into my palm.  “Mom.”

“I wore them on my wedding day to your father.”

Elsa turned away.  I could see her face twist.  She still missed our dad so much.  Her whole childhood was practically spent without him.

I walked over to her and slung my arm around her shoulder, whispering in her ear, “You’ll wear them to your reception.”

She pushed me playfully.  “Don’t be such a fucking sap.”

“I hate it when you girls swear,” my mother responded.  “Can we have one day where the two of you don’t sound like sailors?”

Elsa walked over to my mother, nestling into the crook of her arm.  “We’ll really fucking try, Mom.”

My mother squeezed her and smacked her on the arm.  “Get dressed, honey.”

Elsa wore her long, beach-blonde hair in a messy, razor cut shag with short, uneven bangs.  I always wished I had the balls to get a haircut like that.  She always looked so carefree and ridiculously cute.  She was shorter than I was, coming in at barely five feet tall.  She didn’t need makeup, but she wore thick, black eyeliner and dark cherry lips.

She wore a steel gray silk dress with a serious deep V in the front.  It was obvious that she had decided against a bra.  The skirt ended right below her underwear.  She had a body similar to mine, a little thinner, but the way she wore clothes was downright indecent… and made me jealous.

When she came out, my mother did a double take.  “Elsa, were you planning to wear undergarments on your sister’s wedding day?”

“My boobs are taped to this thing.  I promise, no nip slips.”

My mother threw up her arms and left the room, mumbling.

“You ready?” Elsa asked.

“Yep.”

She got serious.  “Hey, Vince is the one, you know.”

“I know.”

“No,” she continued.  “He’s like the one.  You’re different with him… than Ryan.”

I took her hands in mine.  “I know.  So, come on.  My man is waiting,” I told her, smiling.

Anthony appeared in the doorframe.  “Everyone is here.  Are you good?”

I linked my arm with his.  “El, go.  Grab the flowers in the fridge.”

“Meet you down there.”  She stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on Anthony’s cheek, leaving a light cherry imprint of her lips there.  He rubbed her arm.  “This is it,” she breathed, hurrying down the stairs.  She made me nervous in her five-inch heels.

I turned to Anthony and wiped the lipstick off of his face with my thumb.  “I’m so ready.  Are you?”

“My sons have never been happier in their lives.  You girls are responsible for that.  I am proud to call you my daughter.”  He touched my face with his fingertips.

I sucked in a breath and tugged him tighter.  “Let’s go.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

I stood across from Vince, smiling like a jackass.  I was sure that everyone was laughing at me, but I couldn’t help it.  He looked so beautiful and I was beyond excited.

He was wearing a super slim fit dark gray single-button suit with a white, crisp shirt.  He had the piece of material I had given him from my dress tucked in the upper pocket.  His tie was a matching gray with thin stripes running through it in a paler shade.  His hair was particularly disheveled, but looked so unbelievably cute.  On his feet, he wore his timeworn black Chuck Taylors.

Can I kiss him now?

We held hands.  I couldn’t concentrate on anything the officiant was saying.  I just heard “Blah blah… love… this man…” and put all of my focus on Vince.

When it came time to say our vows, I felt flustered.  Nervous.  He was up first.

“Ray,” he started.  “I love everything about you.  I’m lucky now.  I never felt like that before.  My whole life, I was happy, I guess, but I never knew that it could be like this.  When I met you, it’s like someone flipped on a light.”  He reached his hand to my face and wiped a tear from my eye.  He choked on his next sentence.  “I can’t imagine my life for one minute without you,” he said.  “Today, you become my family.  I can’t wait to start our life together.”

I put my hands to my eyes, covering them.  When I opened them back up, he was smiling, his eyes glossy.  We both laughed anxiously for a second.

I was up.  Oh, God… had I forgotten everything I wanted to say?

“Vince,” I said, looking down at his shoes.  I moved up to his face, concentrating on his smile.  “I was lost.  My world got a little black there for a while.”  I paused.  “It got a little brighter when I met you.  I put up this great, big wall… but you waited.  I’m glad you did.”  I squeezed his hands in mine.  “Now,” I said, squeezing harder, “we have everything.  It’s so bright now.  I have a new family that I love like crazy and we get to be together every day… it’s so hard for me to believe that I get to have you.”  I repeated his last words to me, “I can’t wait to start our life together.”

We exchanged rings.  His eyes were heavy.  Elated.

We both leaned in and he pressed his lips to mine.  “Mm, strawberry,” he said, running his tongue across his top lip.  There was a quiet laughter from our guests.  We hadn’t even gotten to the You-May-Now-Kiss-Your-Bride part.

The officiant took that as his clue.  “I now pronounce you husband and wife.  Please, continue,” he said, a small laugh on his lips.

Vince grabbed me by the back of my neck and pulled me into him.  I wrapped my arms around his waist, placing my hands under his jacket.  He kissed me hard, pulling away with a laugh.  “Awesome, right?” he asked.

I nodded.  “Yes,” I laughed.  “Awesome.”

We kissed again, this time softer, wetter, getting whistles from the peanut gallery.  He broke the kiss and turned to them.  “She’s my wife now.”

I rolled my eyes.

*

The party was fantastic.  We picked great music, the food was delicious and the drinks were plentiful.

Well, for everyone except me.

Vince never left my side.  He introduced me to all of his friends that I hadn’t met.  “Hey guys, have you met my wife?”

Those words rose from his lips a dozen times.

A few times when I looked over, Jack had Elsa in a serious lip lock.  She was not being ladylike.  Belle was watching them.

I walked over to her, watching her eyes follow Jack.  “Hi, Mamma.”  I knew she would soften if I broke out the big guns.

She wrapped her arm around my waist.  “Hello, my beautiful daughter... the most gorgeous bride in the world.”

“Oh, thank you.”  My eyes darted between hers and Anthony’s.  “Don’t worry about them,” I said.  “They’re good.  She really  loves him.”

“We know… we love her too.  I always worry about Jackie,” she continued.  “He’s different than Vincent.  He just seems to have rushed into this marriage with your sister.  She’s so young and… he just got divorced.  I just wish he would take some time to himself.”  She rubbed her hands together.  “And look at him.  He already wants to make a baby when they have been married only one month.”

I looked over at them.  Elsa was smiling and had her hand on his hip.  Her finger was hooked into one of his belt loops.  He brushed a soft kiss to her lips and pushed her hair behind her ear.  “Well, they’re nuts about each other.  And she’s not that young.  She’s 28.”

“She’s such a bright spirit… like I was, I guess.  You’re right… they’re head over heels.  When they are together, it’s like no one else is in the room.”

“Yeah,” I replied, looking over at my sister and her new husband.

She put her hand to my face, changing the subject.  “Your vows were beautiful, my Rachel.  I know you meant every word.”

“I did,” I said, “and I meant it when I said that I loved you all.  I do.”

“I know you do, baby.  And Vincent is so happy.  He gushes over you.  He’s lucky.”

He did gush over me.  I was the lucky one.

She nudged me.  “So, where are you off to now?”

“Well, we’re going to fly to Florida for a week.  We’re staying on Captiva in some hotel on the beach.”

“That sounds wonderful.  You deserve to sit on a beach somewhere.”

I looked at Vince.  He was talking to Bob.  Once he met my eyes, he crooked his finger at me and mouthed Come here.

“He wants me,” I told them.

Anthony nodded.  “Mm hmm.  Go.”

When I reached him, he took me in his arms.  “Let’s dance.”  Beck’s “Ramona” played in the background.  He kissed me slow, his lips humming to the melody.

He pressed his mouth to my ear, whispering, “Happy Wedding Day, Mrs. Conti.”

I was definitely the lucky one.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Vince sat on the edge of the bed, removing his shoes.  “Ugh.  I’m beat.”

All of our guests had gone.  Our house was a wreck, but I told everyone to go home.  I could clean tomorrow.  We didn’t fly out until Monday.

“Me too.”

Vince got up and pressed his mouth to my back, kissing gently.  “You were so beautiful today.  The absolute most beautiful I’ve ever seen you.”

I turned and faced him.  “Thank you.  You were so adorable, I could barely make it through the ceremony,” I joked.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, parting them, his breath heavy with need.  I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him tighter.  I wanted to tell him about the baby, but I was nervous.  It could wait.

“This dress needs to come off,” he breathed.  He took his time unzipping it, pulling slowly at the long silk string in the front.  He slid it off of my shoulders, dropping it at the floor.

“Hey, pick that up,” I teased.  “That’s not a regular dress.”

He laughed and grabbed it from the floor, putting it on a velvet hanger in my closet.  “Better?”

“Yes,” I said, pulling him back to me.

“Keep those shoes on, Mrs. Conti,” he said, kissing down my neck.  He kneeled down and pressed light kisses into my hip, running his tongue across the front of my light pink Coquette ruffled boy shorts.  “I like these,” he said, snapping the side of the elastic.  They had more coverage than I normally wore, but it was my wedding day and my dress was short.  I didn’t want to have any accidental paparazzi moments.

“They’re kind of PG, but the dress wasn’t heavily lined.  I guess I was afraid that I would be showing ass in my wedding photos.  Couldn’t have that.”  I ran my fingers through his wild hair.

“Well,” he said, laughing, “I like this PG underwear.  It’s hot.”  He tugged harder, sliding the material down my legs, lifting one of my heeled feet at a time and tossing them in the hamper.

He was still fully dressed.

His left hand moved to my backside, while his right stayed focused between my legs.  I couldn’t believe that I was embarrassed.  He was my husband now.  Vince always made it feel like it was our first time.  I was vulnerable, naked, exposed.  He focused on me, always.  It was never about him.

“Hey,” I whispered, looking down at his face.  “Sit on the edge of the bed.”

He scooted back on his knees for a few feet and propped himself up so that he was perched on the side.  I paraded over to him slowly, practicing my vixen trot in my tall shoes.  I bent forward, not bending my knees, placing my hands on his thighs.

It was a maneuver I had seen in many films; it always looked great.  I’m sure, with my short frame, it wasn’t nearly as hot as when I’d practiced it in my head.

“Let’s get you out of these,” I purred, pulling on his bottom lip with my teeth.  I lowered to my knees and fumbled with the button on his wool pants.  He put his hand on the back of my neck.

“Stand up for a second,” I urged.

He rose to his feet.  I pulled at his belt loops, trailing my fingers down his legs as I gathered the material at his feet.  “Sit.”  I was being bossy.

He sat back, his hands splayed at his sides.  He found this amusing.  His expression was significant.

I wedged his legs further apart with my waist, taking my time with the buttons on his shirt.  With each button, I placed a kiss on his chest, moving south one inch at a time.  I unbuttoned the cuffs and slid the shirt off of his back.

Moving down, I took him into my mouth slowly.  He exhaled in surprise, leaning back further, balancing on his elbows.  He was watching me closely, letting out short sighs as I continued, accelerating my movements.

“Ray,” he murmured, “you’ve gotta stop.”

I moved my hand, kneading the tops of his thigh, lowering myself further.

“I mean it,” he breathed, sitting up.  “I’ve got plans for you and I don’t want to ruin this.”

“You don’t like it?” I asked, looking up at his face.

“I hate it,” he said, laughing.  “Seriously?  Get up here.  Your turn.”

I moved from the floor and stood, stepping out of one of my shoes.

“I told you to keep those on,” he said, grinning.

I crawled into bed and sat up, my back against the headboard, looking down at my heels.  He pulled at my ankles, sending me halfway down the mattress.  He placed his hands behind the backs of my knees and lowered his head to my upper thigh, licking a trail around my new scar.  “You are so amazing,” he uttered.  His breath was thick.  “And you married me.”

He moved his hand between my legs, slowing slipping one finger inside.  His tongue was soft and wet, brushing me, washing any anxiety aside.  I inhaled, letting out a deep sigh.  After a few minutes, my legs started to tremble; my knees close to knocking.

“Oh, God… Vince,” I screamed.  “I’m… I’m…”

His hand moved swiftly now, the twist in my midsection rushing to the surface.  “Aaah!” I shouted, jackknifing into a sitting post.

Could I ever have a normal orgasm?  Like ever?

He sat up and pulled me into his lap, rearranging me, his back against the headboard.  My legs widened, spreading over his.  He brushed his hand between them, causing a shiver before he gripped my backside, slowing filling me.

I arched my back, one hand clutching the headboard, the other dug into his neck.

“You feel so fucking good.”  He pushed harder; his fingertips bore into my back.

It was almost painful.  He was so abundant… my legs began to cramp.  “Oh!” I bellowed.  He flipped us over, him on top, sliding in effortlessly.

“It’s never been better,” he whispered, clutching my hips.   He went faster, pushed in harder.

I was peaking again, embarrassed so soon after my last climax.

“Oh my God!” I called out.  It was rough, chafing… my body ignited.

Would it be like this with him always?

“Let go, Rachel.”

I came apart, staring at him.  He dipped his head into the curve of my neck, moaning softly, settling inside of me.  It was quiet, motionless.

He breathed in and out, dully.  “And they say that marriage kills your sex life.”  He laughed, gasping lightly.

I caught my breath, my eyes fixed on his.  “I have something to tell you.”

He sat up abruptly.  “What’s going on?”

I slid out of bed and headed towards the bathroom.  I dug through the bin under the sink, pulling out the plastic strip.  I took a deep breath and walked back into the bedroom.

I crawled in beside him and handed him the test.

“We’re pregnant.”

He sat quiet for a moment, staring at me.  He held my hands in his and squeezed tight, his eyes brimming.

“I’m going to be a father?” he asked, choking on a laugh.

“Yep,” I whispered.

He cupped my face and placed a long, soft kiss to my lips.  “Best day ever.”

*

Ramona June Belle Conti

Born 07.13.14

At 2:45 pm

7 lbs. 3 oz.

20.5 inches

With love and joy,

Rachel and Vince

Epilogue

Vince

I watched her as she pushed our two children on the swings.  She looked so beautiful today.  Her hair was longer now, pulled into a high pile.  I missed her short cut, but I would never tell her that.  Her lips were shiny and pink.  She wore a white sundress; it dipped low in the back.  God, she looked good.

I sat, leaning up against the hard back of the picnic table.  She took turns shifting between them.  Ramona laughed and screamed, begging Ray to push her higher.

Within moments, Ramona turned sour.  She cried now, being melodramatic, as she was often known to do.  She ran to me, her short red dress riddled with dirt.

“Daddy,” she sobbed.  “Abe hit me.”

I glanced over at Rachel.  She gave me a smile and an eye roll.

I pulled Ramona into my lap.  “He didn’t hit you, honey.  I’ve been watching you the whole time.”

“He did.  He pushed me and called me a brat.”

Abe had turned fifteen months the week before.  Besides “cookie” and “no!,” his vocabulary was exceptionally limited.  “Ramona,” I pleaded, “he was trying to play with you.  He loves you.”

“I know, but he’s being mean.”

“He’s not,” I said, kissing her rounded cheek.

She leaned into me, pressing her soft body into my shoulder.  “Can we go home?”

“Soon, baby.  Why don’t you go play with some of the other girls?”

She sighed, pushing the hair from her face.  It was the same light cinnamon color as her mother’s, her eyes a soft brown, like mine.  “Those girls are mean too.  Do we get to go to Grandma and Grandpa’s house now?”

“In a few hours,” I smiled at her, giving her a squeeze.

“And swim in the pool?”

“Probably.  You promise me that you will be nice to your brother?  Otherwise, no pool.”

“Okay,” she huffed, burying her head in my neck.

Rachel turned to me, carrying Abe in her arms, her round belly prominent.  Less than two months to go before our second daughter arrived.

“Babe, they’re tired.  Let’s go,” she smiled softly.  “I’m exhausted too.”

“What time is Walter picking them up?”  I couldn’t wait for some time alone with her…

“Five, I think.”

I gathered the bags, taking my son from her arms.  “I’ve got him,” I told her, leaning in and pressing my lips to hers.  I would never tire of kissing her.

She tasted like strawberries… always.

About the Author

Nicole Hildreth lives and works in Indianapolis, IN, where she spends her time supporting local art and music.  Which you should do, too.  Seriously.

Table of Contents

Chapter One. 4

Chapter Two. 9

Chapter Three. 12

Chapter Four 26

Chapter Five. 33

Chapter Six. 40

Chapter Seven. 47

Chapter Eight 54

Chapter Nine. 63

Chapter Ten. 68

Chapter Eleven. 74

Chapter Twelve. 82

Chapter Thirteen. 88

Chapter Fourteen. 97

Chapter Fifteen. 105

Chapter Sixteen. 113

Chapter Seventeen. 122

Chapter Eighteen. 129

Chapter Nineteen. 137

Chapter Twenty. 149

Chapter Twenty-One. 163

Chapter Twenty-Two. 173

Chapter Twenty-Three. 178

Chapter Twenty-Four 181

Epilogue. 185