“Well, when you put it like that…”
“And that’s what I mean about learning to live with myself, being true to who I am. ‘Real men’ are supposed to be macho and hate ‘fags,’ right? What
a crock of shit! A real man has the courage to accept people who’re different.
The same goes for Christy. A real woman should accept who she is. If she’s a good Catholic girl, that’s fine. But if she isn’t, hiding behind a rosary won’t make her feel any better.”
“I’ll… tell her. I dunno how, but I will.”
“Tell her I enjoyed sleeping with her too. Best no-sex not-date I’ve ever had.”
Wren frowned in puzzlement.
“Inside joke. Never mind. I’ll tell her. I need to apologize for the other night anyway. I’ll try to tell her the other stuff too.”
“Don’t,” Wren said immediately.
I looked a question at her.
“She… wants to impress you.”
My eyes widened.
“And I think she’ll be too embarrassed if you tell her.”
“You really are devious,” I said.
“Maybe. But I get what I want. And the results are usually worth it. They were in your case.” She dared me to disagree.
“Fine. But just remember… I’m not entirely sure who I want. I like them both, but for different reasons.”
“Then we’ll just have to make sure Christy comes out on top.” She shot me a grin. “And on the bottom. And on her knees. Oh, especially on her knees.”
“Get out of here,” I said. “I’ll never finish my illustrations if I don’t get back to work. And since they’re fifteen percent of my project grade, I’m going to finish.”
She smiled and stood.
I stood as well, and we leaned together.
She kissed my cheek and then turned mischievous. “On top,” she whispered, “on the bottom, on her knees…”
“Out!”
Christy looked back as I followed her into the kitchen with a stack of dishes.
“I thought it was Trip’s turn,” she said.
“I traded with him.”
“Oh. Okay.”
I turned on the water. While it heated up, I scraped the plates into the trash can under the sink. Then I put the stopper in the drain and added dish soap. The dirty plates went into the water with a clatter of silverware.
Christy brandished a clean towel. “Ready to dry, captain!”
“You are sunny,” I said with a smile. “One of the things I like about you.”
“A light heart lives long, my Granny Carmichael says.”
“Well, I appreciate it. Even when I don’t deserve it.”
Her smile faded a bit.
“I’m… sorry about the other night,” I said. “With the poem.”
“Oh.”
“I was childish and rude. I was upset, but that’s no excuse.”
She nodded and took the first plate after I rinsed it.
“I’m sorry about Sunday too. I know going to Mass makes you happy.”
“I can’t explain it. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You are who you are. Never be ashamed of that.” I glanced at her sideways.
She felt it and furrowed her brow.
“There’s something else I want to say, but I don’t want to upset you. I’m going to risk it, though, ’cause it’s important. To me, at least.”
“What is it?” She took another plate and dried it absently.
“I really enjoyed spending time with you after the party.”
She blushed and set the plate on top of the first.
“And not for the reasons you think.”
“Then… why?”
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it, but I think this is best: you’re my church.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You make me happy. I don’t really understand it myself, but I think that’s why I get so upset when one of us does something stupid and hurts the other’s feelings.”
“That I understand.”
“I thought you might.” I passed her the next plate.
“I had fun too. After the party.”
“I thought so.”
“I was really drunk though.”
“Don’t use that as an excuse.”
Her forehead creased.
“Alcohol doesn’t make you do anything you wouldn’t normally do. It just lowers your inhibitions.”
“But I’m not really like that.”
“Like what? Not the girl who sat on my lap and talked about how good
‘nipple’ feels in her mouth?”
She turned rosy and polished the plate to a high gloss.
I chuckled. “I like that girl. In some weird way, I like this one too, the one standing next to me trying to figure out how to turn invisible.”
She made a strangled noise.
“But here’s the thing…” I stopped washing and turned to her. “They’re the same girl. The flirty one and the shy one. The flirty one just needs alcohol to come out.” I faced the sink again and finished washing the last plate. I handed it to her and started on the serving platter.
She dried in silence.
“I need to work on a couple of watercolors tonight,” I said when I finished with the platter. I rinsed it and handed it to her. “Do you wanna hang out? I probably won’t be much conversation, but I’d enjoy your company. I think my drawings’ll be better for it.”
“I’d like that very much,” she said softly.
I grinned. “Bring a bottle of wine.”
She rolled her eyes and swatted me with the towel.
I looked at my watch and rinsed my brush. I dried it and set it with the others, ready for more when the current paint dried.
“I need to make a call,” I said as I wiped my hands.
Christy looked up from her book. “This late?”
“Mmm hmm. To California. It’s three hours earlier. Duh. You know that.”
She nodded. Then her expression clouded. “Who’re you calling? Never mind. It’s none of my business.” She started to stand, but I stopped her with a gesture.
“Sara Gilman. You remember her?”
“Tall? Dark hair? Big b— um… chest? The photographer, right?”
I nodded and couldn’t help but smile at her description. Take that, Wren!
“Was she the one who called last night?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Oh. I thought it was—”
“Gina? No.” I paused to gauge her reaction. “So… you know about her?”
“How could I not? Wren talks about her like she’s just toying with you, though.”
I laughed. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“Oh?”
“Ex-relationships always are.”
“You can say that again.”
“Ex-relationships always are.”
“I didn’t mean for real!” She laughed in spite of herself. “Always painting with words, aren’t you?”
“One of my many talents,” I said.
She took another sip of wine. Her blue eyes glittered over the rim and the pale golden liquid.
“Right. Well. I need to make this call. Sara’s going through a rough time and needs a friend. I don’t know how long I’ll be, but… you’re welcome to hang out.”
“You want me to hang out while you go talk to another woman?”
“It beats the alternative.”
“What’s that?”
“Um… doing something by yourself while I… uh… do my own thing?
Okay, so it’s lame. It sounded good in my head.”
She smiled indulgently and opened her book.
I went downstairs and closed my bedroom door. I dialed Sara’s number.
She picked up on the first ring.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“I was wondering if you’d really call.”
“Now you know. I really called.”
She laughed.
“So… how’s your day been? How’s Daphne?”
“Good and good. I had a shoot today. Boring fashion ad. The model was hot, but straight and a total airhead.”
“Too bad.”
“How was your day?”
“Surprisingly good. I had a talk with Wren, and…”
We chatted for almost an hour. It seemed like five minutes.
“I’d better go,” she said at last. “Daphne will be home soon. She spends time with Austin before her shift at the club. He’s trying to get her to quit, but he hasn’t said the magic words yet.”