I was still thinking about it when Christy came home from working late on her exhibition piece. I heard the front door close and voices downstairs as she talked to Wren and Trip. Then she came upstairs with a foil-covered plate cradled on a folded dishtowel. She smiled tiredly when she saw me. Then she walked straight into my studio and sank to the floor beside my chair.
“You would not believe how much work I still have to do,” she said.
“Siobhan wants me to make a half-scale marble dust version of The Dying Replicant. The small one doesn’t convey enough emotion, she says.”
“She’s probably right. Anything I can do to help?”
“Maybe pose for me? I can scale up from the small one, but it’d be easier and quicker with you there. Not to mention the moral support.”
“Can do,” I said.
She removed the foil from her dinner and started eating.
“You want anything now? A drink? Dessert?”
“Oh, that’d be awesome. I didn’t have enough hands. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. What do you want? Coke? Juice? Water?”
“Maybe just some water. And… do we have any whiskey from the party?”
“I can check.”
“My nerves are shot, and I could really use something to settle them.”
“One water and one whiskey, coming up. And I’ll see what we have for dessert.”
“Thanks. You’re amazing.”
I headed downstairs.
Wren and Trip were working together at the dining room table, their usual hangout on school nights.
“Do we have any more Jameson?” I asked her.
“Uh-oh. I thought she was okay.”
“Just frazzled.”
“Yeah. She said she’ll be working every night this week and probably through the weekend if she wants to get everything done.”
“Anything we can do to help?” Trip asked.
“I’ll let you know.”
Wren stood and gestured for me to follow her into the kitchen.
“Aren’t you going to gloat?” I said.
“About what?”
“I’m taking care of Christy like she’s my girlfriend.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Wren said. “I only gloat when you’re being stubborn.”
“Mmm. But now that I’m doing what you wanted all along, you’re a gracious winner?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she said. “I’m jumping for joy on the inside. But I’m also worried about my best friend. You’re taking good care of her, so I’m giving you a break.”
“Seems fair.”
She opened the cupboard where we kept our liquor and took down the bottle of whiskey. “Hey, babe,” she called to Trip in the dining room. “Would you put Jameson on the liquor store list?”
“Got it,” he called back.
She swirled the liquid in the green bottle. “Enough for two. You want
one?”
“Sure. Why not.”
She took a tray from a bottom cupboard and set it on the counter.
“We have any dessert?” I asked while she filled glass tumblers with ice.
“Cookies okay? They’re store-bought. In the pantry.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
A few minutes later I headed upstairs carrying the tray laden with late-night goodies. Christy was sitting where I’d left her, eating tiredly. I set the tray on my desk, filled the two whiskey tumblers, and handed one to her, followed by a glass of ice water. I took my own tumbler and sank into the chair.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“You’re welcome. Cookies are on the tray.”
She finished eating in silence and then took a long drink of Jameson. She sighed.
“Better?”
She nodded and took another sip.
I could almost see the liquor work its way through her.
“Would you rub my neck like you did the other day?”
“Sure. Slide over.”
She scooted into place between my feet, and I began massaging her shoulders and neck. She moaned and lolled her head forward.
After a while she finished her drink and set it aside. Then she wordlessly climbed into my lap, where she curled up with her head on my chest and fell asleep in minutes.
I carried her downstairs once I was sure she was good and asleep. I met Wren and Trip on the way up.
“She okay?” Wren asked quietly.
I nodded. “Just tired. Fell asleep in my lap.”
“You’re a good guy,” Wren said. “I don’t care what people say.” She brushed back a strand of Christy’s blonde hair with surprising tenderness.
“Come on, I’ll help put her to bed.” She turned and rose on tiptoe to give Trip a kiss. “Go on to bed yourself. I’ll be there shortly.”
He nodded.
I carried Christy into her bedroom and waited for Wren to clear a pile of clothes from the bed. I grinned to myself and surveyed the chaos.
“Here you go,” Wren said. “Let me take off her shoes first.”
Christy sighed and snuggled deeper into the hollow of my shoulder.
“Okay. Set her down and then help me get her jeans off.”
“Better if you do it,” I said as I laid the sleeping girl on the bed.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. You’ll see everything eventually, but…”
“It needs to be her decision.”
“Right.”
“I’ll wait in the hall.”
Wren emerged a few minutes later. She stretched upward and kissed me on the cheek. “Seeing you with her makes me love you even more.”
“But in a sisterly way.”
She chuckled, low and suggestive. “Only if your sister wants to screw your brains out.”
My eyebrows shot up. My sister did, in fact, want to do just that. But Wren didn’t know that. Not unless she could read minds.
“Down, boy.” She laughed and patted my arm. “As soon as you and Christy are together and she’s ready.”
“You don’t need a doubleheader tonight?” I teased.
“Oh, God, I’d love a doubleheader! You have no idea how much I want you and Trip together. But we can’t. Christy wouldn’t understand. Not yet.”
“I know.” I glanced at her closed bedroom door and thought for a moment. “You really think she has the makings of a swinger?”
“Totally. She’s so hot for you she’d do just about anything.”
“Yeah, but she has to want it. And not just for my sake. You remember how it was with Trip.”
“Yeah. And I’ve talked to Susan about it too.”
My eyebrows headed north again.
“Of course. She gave me her phone number. Told me to call any time I wanted to talk.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“She thinks you and Christy would make a good match.” She grinned, but I saw the barest flicker of irritation at the corners of her eyes.
“Lemme guess,” I said with a low chuckle, “she also thinks Gina and I would make a good match.”
The flicker flared to life. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you were thinking it. I know Susan—better than you do—and she’d’ve said it was up to me.”
“So what if she did?”
“Take her advice. All of it. Yeah, Christy and I might make a good match, but we’re a long way from that. Gina and I have a history together—a pretty good one, too—and she isn’t out of the picture yet.”
“No, but she’s in California. And Christy’s here.”
“You know, I think I noticed something like that,” I said with gentle sarcasm.
“Well, it gives her home field advantage. Soon enough you’ll be undressing her for bed. Then you’ll climb in beside her.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“No maybe about it.”
“Goodnight, Wren,” I said firmly.
“Ugh. I hate it when you’re like this.”
“What? Thinking and acting for myself? Yeah, I can see how that would drive you crazy.” I kissed her forehead. “Just let me do things my way, okay?”
“All right,” she said ungraciously. “But hurry up. I’m dying for that doubleheader you mentioned. And Christy…! Oh, God, Paul, you have no idea what she does to me.”