“You forget the Catholic guilt thing.”
“She didn’t seem guilty after you kissed her, did she? Or today?”
“No, not really. She’d talked to Wren about it, though.”
“Remind me who Wren is? I mean, I know who she is. But I don’t have a good image of her in my head.”
“Five-three, about 120 pounds. Brown hair, about like mine, and hazel-blue eyes. Curvy, but not a Playmate.”
“She isn’t an art major, is she?”
“No. Communications. Public Relations.”
“Ah, right.”
“If you ever saw her, she was with Christy.”
“All I remember is that little bitch Aisling.”
I laughed. “You carry a grudge, don’t you?”
“You’d better believe it, buster!”
“Well, anyway, Christy must’ve told Wren about the kiss. Wren is playing matchmaker from both sides, so I’m sure she told her not to rush off to church or anything.”
“That bugs you?”
“Yeah, it does.”
She laughed, but it was soft and ironic.
“What?”
“I used to love going to Mass,” she admitted. “It was the one time I knew I wouldn’t get slapped around or called names.”
“Family or other kids?” I asked after a moment.
“Father. Alcoholic. Mean drunk.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Change the subject. Back to you.”
“Right. Got it. But if you ever wanna talk…”
“I don’t,” she said curtly. Then she sniffed.
“Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault.”
“You think I don’t know that! I don’t need a fucking shrink, asshole!”
“Hey, calm down. I’m not a shrink. I’m your friend, remember?”
“Yeah,” she said, and sniffed again. “Just brings back bad memories.”
She laughed bitterly. “You’re the first guy I’ve ever been able to talk to about this.”
“A lot of guys are assholes.”
“You aren’t, though. I’ll give you that.”
“Thanks.”
“But seriously, let’s change the subject. Back to you and Christy.”
“Okay.”
“Does she know any of your past?”
“About the nudism and swinging? Are you kidding?”
“No, I’m serious. You’ll have to tell her, sooner or later.”
“Does Daphne know about your past?”
“Yeah, she does, matter o’ fact. So, whaddya have to say to that?”
“Ha! Was that your Pittsburgh accent?”
“Yeah. You like it? I mostly lost it when I was working through the Midwest.”
“I like it. It’s a part of you that most people don’t know.”
“Yeah, it is. But don’t make me start crying again. Asshole.”
“I won’t. Anyway, about me and Christy… Yeah, I’ll have to tell her some of it, but I guess I’m waiting for the right time. On the other hand, that’s one of the things that’s so appealing about Gina.”
“What about her?”
“Her family and mine are best friends. They’re nudists and swingers too.”
“Ah, right! The parties. You mentioned her. So you wouldn’t have to explain your deep, dark secrets to her.”
“Right.”
“Then let me ask you this: do you think Christy can handle them? ’Cause you can’t change your past. You can hide it, but sooner or later, it always catches up with you.”
“That’s kinda what I’m worried about. Christy has this whole good-girl, bad-girl thing going on. Wren says she isn’t as goody-goody as I think, and I’ve seen flashes of that. Give the girl a glass of wine and she’s as flirty as anyone. But when she’s sober, when she thinks she needs to act like a ‘good Catholic girl’—”
“Mmm hmm.” She heard the quotes.
“—she’s a goody two shoes.”
“I’m not so sure,” she said after a moment. “You said she hadn’t had a drink when she kissed you.”
“A glass of wine at dinner, but that’s all. And that was a while before.
She was stone-cold sober at the time. And just to be clear, I kissed her.”
“Yeah, but she kissed you back. And she was sucking your finger before you did. That doesn’t sound like a goody two shoes at all. I mean, when I suck someone’s finger, I’m not thinking about going to confession.”
I laughed.
“So maybe you’re oversimplifying things.”
“Maybe. But I’m still worried about telling Christy about my past. Maybe I’m reading too much into her behavior.”
“Maybe you should actually talk to her instead of making assumptions.”
“Ha! Listen to you. Who’s the shrink now?”
“Hey, I just know how it was with Daphne and me. Some of my favorite memories are when we just talked.” She laughed softly. “That and watching her dance.”
“Seriously? Me too.”
“You too what?”
“Watching Christy dance. Ballet.” I explained about her impromptu routines after aerobics.
“With me it was always watching Daphne at the club.”
“I bet. She’s—”
Someone knocked on my door.
“Hold on a sec,” I said to Sara. To the door, “Yeah? C’mon in.”
Christy opened the door and stuck her head in. “Sorry to bother you…”
“No problem. What’s up?”
“Only, you’ve been talking for two hours, and… Are you almost done?”
“Holy crap! Really?” I looked at my watch.
“Sorry. It’s just that I told my mom I’d call, and…”
“I’ll wrap up,” I told her. “Gimme five minutes.”
She nodded and smiled. “Tell Sara I’m sorry. Oh, and tell her to let us know about the show. Okay?”
“Will do.”
She smiled again and pulled the door closed.
“The little princess needs to call the queen,” I told Sara.
“Huh?”
“Christy needs to call her mother.”
“Oh, right! Sorry. I speak in visual metaphors.”
“Ha! You do. Speaking of which… Christy wants you to let us know
about the show.”
“She’s just nice, isn’t she? I mean, like, honest-to-God nice.”
“Yeah, she is. Well, except when I’m a jerk to her.”
“Then don’t be a jerk to her. Jesus. How hard is that?”
I laughed. “Harder than you think!”
“I have faith in you. Now, let her call her mother.”
“Right.”
“And…”
I could almost hear her gathering her courage.
“Thanks for trusting me about that stuff, earlier.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Makes me feel better about trusting you.”
“You can always trust me.”
“I’m starting to realize that.”
I smiled. “Take care, Sara. Talk to you soon. And let us know about the show. We’re excited for you.”
She laughed, much to my surprise. “Did you just say ‘we’? Like you’re a couple?”
“Oh my God… I did!”
“Wedding bells,” she teased with a laugh. Then, “Take care yourself.
Talk to you soon.”
We said goodbye and hung up. I held the phone to my chest for a moment longer. I smiled as I replayed the last few minutes of conversation in my head.
“You’re pretty nice yourself, Sara Gilman,” I said to the ether. “You just save it for special people.”
Chapter 22
I came home after judo on Thursday and checked the mail. I had a letter from Gina. I opened the envelope as I climbed the stairs. Then I checked my watch. Trip and the girls wouldn’t be home for twenty or thirty minutes. I locked my bedroom door, tossed my bag in the corner, and stripped off my clothes. I flopped on the bed and started reading.
Dear Paul, I finally climbed out of the bath. I was thinking of you and had to take care of things. Again. Now I’m one big wrinkle! Are you sure you can’t fly out to LA? I’ll make it worth your while. Ha ha!
Just kidding. I know you can’t. Maybe I can come visit you in Knoxville. I just don’t know when. I’m busy with class, the sorority, the clinic, you name it. Too many things going on, I guess. And I have to keep studying for the MCAT. I should be doing that now instead of writing to you. But the test is so far away and you feel so much closer.