“You know, you just made a friend for life there. Friendly face, warm food, cozy porch. He may never leave,” I said to Carla as she walked past me and into the house. I looked at Oscar, who returned my gaze. I swear I detected a smirk on his face. Maybe I was just assuming he was smirking. That’s what Andy would’ve done.
Carla laughed.
We ate the burgers over great conversation. The kids were telling me stories about friends they had in Dallas. Carla watched, smiling and occasionally giggling.
I could see the unfathomable amount of love and devotion in her eyes as she looked at her kids. I watched her watching them and couldn’t help but wonder if she had so much love for everyone she allowed into her life. Had she loved their father as much as she loved them? Would she ever love me with as much enthusiasm and passion as she loved them? I certainly hoped I’d have a chance to find out.
With the kids asleep, Carla and I sat on the porch swing. Oscar lay sleeping beneath us. We talked about nothing in particular. Things we liked, things we didn’t like. Books we’d read and movies we’d watched. As it turned out, we had quite a lot of things in common.
Time went a little too quickly when I was with her. Before I knew it, Andy was driving past us on his way to work.
I glanced at my watch. “Wow. It’s late. I should go.” I didn’t want to leave. Not now, not anytime soon. I wanted to stay by her side and continue getting to know her.
She looked disappointed that I had to leave. “I’ll walk you home,” she offered. It seemed she was just as eager as I was to make the evening last a little longer. This revelation excited me. It appeared she was feeling the same way about me that I was feeling about her.
“But if you walk me home, I’ll have to walk you back home.”
Laughing, she said, “I’m a big girl. I can make my way back by myself.”
“If you insist.” We walked very slowly down the street toward my house, both of us trying to wring every possible drop out of the evening.
Standing at the end of my driveway, I noticed she was hesitant. This was the first awkward pause between us. Neither of us spoke. I patiently waited for her to figure out whatever she was trying to decide.
“Well, Owen, I guess I’d better get back. Thanks for coming to dinner. You can come by any time you want.” She had her hands in her back pockets. Very sexy.
“I can’t bother you for dinner every night.”
“I don’t just mean dinner.” I sensed a sexual undertone, but I didn’t want to react to it, just in case I was wrong. That would be humiliating for both of us. So I waited, unsure of what to say now. Finally, she added, “If you ever want to stop by to talk or visit or anything, you’re more than welcome. And it doesn’t have to be just dinner, you know. You could eat lunch at my place. Or breakfast.”
I don’t consider myself a ladies’ man, although Andy was always telling me that I easily could be. According to him, I had the charm and the looks, which made for a lethal combination. I, however, had always been a one woman kind of guy, literally having been with only one woman.
Even with my inexperience with women, I couldn’t argue that she was hitting on me. I hadn’t failed to notice she said I could eat breakfast at her place. She hadn’t said I could stop by for breakfast, which made me think she was hinting that I’d already be there for the first meal of the day. Of course, I could be completely wrong. I would’ve naturally assumed that I was wrong, if not for the way she said it or the look on her face when she said it.
Just in case I was completely wrong, I decided to take the middle road.
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that sometime.”
“I hope you do,” she said sweetly. She leaned up and kissed me, just like earlier. This time, however, I noticed she left her lips on my cheek a little longer. This meant her hands rested on my arms a little long, and her breasts were lightly pressed against my chest a little longer. And I didn’t hate it.
She walked away, leaving me standing there at the end of my driveway staring after her. I watched until she went inside her house and shut the door. I felt the stupid look on my face, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I tried to force my muscles to relax, but they disobeyed me. I even wiped my hand across my face, trying to wipe the smile away, but it was there.
It remained there until I was in bed, staring at the ceiling, imagining what it would be like to lie next to her. The damn thing was even there the next morning, waiting for me.
I didn’t want to wish it away. It had been a long time since I’d felt much more than a frown on my face. I enjoyed the feeling that came with the smile. The feeling of warmth. The feeling of knowing someone was thinking about me. The feeling that I had something to look forward to every day, a reason to wake up.
8 Carla
I felt Owen’s eyes on me until I was in my house with the door closed. I was glad he couldn’t see my face, couldn’t see the goofy smile that seemed to be painted there.
The last thing I’d expected to happen when I moved here was exactly what was happening. I met someone, a wonderful man, who made me feel good about myself. Unlike my ex-husband, he was easy to be around. I felt safe with him. And I felt like I could trust him with anything.
I didn’t think I was falling in love with him. That would be crazy. We barely knew each other. But I believed that given a little time, it would happen. I could feel it.
I lay in bed thinking about him. His muscular build, his tall frame, and his slightly shaggy, dark hair were all enough to make me dream of him. But it was the way he looked at me that made my heart beat faster.
I could see in his eyes that he wanted to kiss me. I noticed his hesitation when we parted, as if he wasn’t sure if he should or not. I desperately wanted him to. When I’d seen that he wasn’t going to, I’d been unable to resist the urge to somehow kiss him. I was afraid that maybe I’d misread him and he didn’t want to kiss me at all, so I went for another peck on the cheek. It would do for now.
I fell asleep wondering what it would be like to have him kiss me.
I awoke a while later to the sound of someone pounding on my front door. I kicked off the blankets, dashed downstairs and threw open the door, unable to imagine who this could be.
“What the hell are you doing pounding on my door like that so early in the morning?” I asked, infuriated. The sun was just high enough to lighten the sky. My best guess was it was about five o’clock. If he woke my kids, I’d kick his ass.
The man standing before me now, clearly intoxicated, was a stranger to me. He was short, stocky, unshaven, and he smelled like cigarettes and alcohol.
He swayed backwards, but jerked himself forward to prevent falling. To keep himself steady, he put one hand on the door jam. He looked me up and down, smiling broadly. I felt violated.
Suddenly aware that I wasn’t dressed to receive company, I crossed my arms over my chest. I wore a camisole top and a pair of panties, but I still felt naked. It was surely the way he looked at me as if I were. From the look on his face, you’d think I was standing there naked, possibly even jumping up and down.
“Well?” I asked again, angrier.
In a rough voice, he said, “I wanted to come over and introduce myself. I’m your neighbor, Bernie.” He held out his hand for me to shake. It was impossible not to notice the dirt under his fingernails. The tip of each one was dark black. When I didn’t respond, he continued. “I thought maybe you’d like to come over sometime and we could...do something.” The way he was looking at me, made me sick. His eyes, already glassy from the liquor, were more so now, probably from his disgusting lust. I wasn’t positive, but I swear I saw his tongue flicker across his lips.