Michele

 

By Friday, the day of the open house for Evan’s artist, the snow had mostly melted and the streets were a slushy mess.

I stared into my closet, biting my lip, looking for something fancy enough to show up to a ritzy art gallery in. I was looking at a rack of jeans, t-shirts, sweaters and pullovers. I didn’t own a single dress.

My closet back in Indiana had tons of them, dresses from expensive designers, some of them with the price tags still on. Gifts from Brandon, or from his family, things I’d never wear in real life but which came in handy for events and dinner parties. Any one of them would be perfect for tonight.

Resigned that I’d have to go shopping, I closed my closet door and grabbed my bag. As I was tugging my coat on, my phone started ringing. It was Iain.

I hadn’t seen him since the day I had that conversation with Shannon. I was at the bar at night, and he had been working on a case that he said he was making headway on. I missed him - and our text messages had bordered on explicit, frustrating the hell out of me in the best way.

“Hey you,” I said when I answered. I zipped my coat up.

“Hey. What’re you up to?”

“Oh, just heading out to go buy a dress.” I headed to the door, unbolting it and shutting it behind me once I was in the hall. “I’m going to an open house tonight and I literally have nothing to wear. Go me.”

My keys jingled as I locked up. I walked to the elevator, hitting the call button. It was starkly quiet in the hall, the usual hush of mid-morning.

“An open house?”

“Yeah. Shannon’s boyfriend, Evan - he’s an art consultant. He invited her and I to a gallery tonight for an open house for one of his artists.”

“Where’s the art gallery?”

“I think he said Carroll Gardens? Or something?”

The elevator came and I got on it. I hit the button for the lobby and waited for the doors to shut.

“Yeah, kinda near Park Slope,” Iain said.

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see it. “I know next to nothing about these neighborhoods.”

“Where are you going to get a dress?”

“No clue. I was just gonna hit the streets and see what I find.”

It wasn’t lost on me that just a few weeks ago I would have been too frightened, too apprehensive, to do just that - that I barely knew beyond the two blocks around Shannon’s apartment. I was braver now, something that gave me a sense of pride.

“Let me come with you. I could show you where some of the stores in the area are. And I’d never turn down the chance to see you in a dress.”

I laughed, but his words brought heat, and I closed my eyes, the memory of him behind me, on top of me, blinding and hot.

“Yes, okay,” I said. “Let’s meet on the corner. I’m almost out of the apartment.”

We ended the call and I left the building, nodding at the doorman on my way out. On the street, winter air hit me, but I barely noticed it. I was tingling, excited to see Iain, eager to kiss him again.

For the first time in so long, I felt… almost normal. Like someone should feel. Handling day-to-day problems, meeting up with someone special, exploring my neighborhood. Doing things. Not so scared of the past, but living in the present.

Iain wasn’t at the corner when I arrived. I waited for him, watching pedestrians walk by. In the back of my mind, I was on the lookout for anyone suspicious, for anyone who’s gaze lingered too long on me. But nobody did. It was, probably, a false hope to think that I was free and clear of Brandon. But in that moment, in the bright morning, surrounded by strangers, it was hard to fear him.

“Michele,” I heard, and I looked up to see Iain in front of me, a slow smile creeping over his face. I smiled back, easily, letting myself get swept up in the moment. He leaned in and kissed me, his lips cold, but I didn’t care. I wrapped my arms around him and giggled.

“Long time no see,” I said after we parted.

“I know, I’m sorry. But I’ve made a lot of progress on my case.” He paused, and then pulled back, taking my hand and leading me down the street. “Once I get started, I have a hard time stopping until it’s closed.”

“You’re a real Sherlock Holmes, huh?” I was teasing him, but he didn’t smile. I nudged him. “Hey, I’m only joking.”

“I know. But I never get anything more than cheating spouses. I couldn’t compare myself to Sherlock Holmes with a straight face.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I thought I understood his frustration - he’d been doing this for years and probably wanted more interesting cases that had nothing to do with catching people sleeping around on their husbands and wives. I looked at him, thinking about how Brandon had told him that I was a cheater. But I was also missing, which meant that I was probably one of the more interesting cases he’d ever been given.

“Does it bother you?” I asked finally.

“What?”

“That you have a… specialty?”

“Oh. No. I guess I’d like to do more, one day. But everyone has an area of focus in this industry. I just happened to get my start with a cheating wife and it stuck.”

“Tell me about that. How you got started.”

We passed a boutique, pink and gold dresses on display in the window, and Iain stopped. They were beautiful, but I could just tell they were out of my price range. I shook my head and we kept going.

“I told you about how I came back from my last deployment and Emily was gone,” he started. He kicked at a newspaper plastered wetly against the sidewalk. “I was a mess. My best buddy, Erik, was there for me, but I wasn’t working for a while. I refused to go to those workforce programs they have for vets. I just couldn’t see myself in any 9-5 job at all.”

“I’m sure,” I said.

“My dad’s a cop. NYPD for twenty years. I’ve always been interested in what he does, but I was always more fascinated with detectives solving cases. Maybe two or three weeks after I’d been back, a friend from high school I don’t talk to very much hit me up to welcome me home. He got to talking about his cheating wife.”

“And that was all she wrote?”

“Basically. Looking back, I think I was just desperate for anything to do. You know, Chris - my buddy - he didn’t have any proof his wife was cheating, but she’d been acting weird for months. He said he’d love to hire someone to catch her in the act, but he wasn’t sure who to call.” He shrugged then, and then looked at me, his expression softening. “I can say one thing, though. It led me to you.”

It led me to you. My heart sped into overdrive, my throat thickening. It led me to you. It was true, wasn’t it? My world came into sharp focus, and I knew in that moment that whatever Iain and I had, it was real. It wasn’t just for fun, it wasn’t temporary, it wasn’t something we could walk away from unscathed.

Instinct told me to walk away anyway. Surely being this close to him was dangerous and reckless? Despite how happy he made me feel, I still did have Brandon to worry about. I glanced at Iain, eyes scanning his handsome face. I couldn’t walk away. Not now, not when everything felt so sweet, so real.

“It led us to each other,” I said, smiling at him.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

We were coming up to an Old Navy, the sidewalk crowded in front of it. Iain raised his eyebrows at me, as if in question. I nodded, resigned that this was a place as good as any. At least it was within my budget.

Inside, there were several sections devoted to dresses. I pulled out a couple practical looking black dresses, giving them a cursory glance before deciding to try them on. Iain shuffled behind me, hands in his pockets, looking sorely out of place.

“Is it safe to say this isn’t your favorite place?” I asked him, sticking my tongue out. He laughed, glancing around the store, then looking back at me.

“Can’t say I’ve ever been in here before. But I think you’d look great in those.” He licked his lips, his expression darkening. “Or nothing at all.”

I blushed, swatting at his arm. “Don’t be bad.” He pretended to look chagrined, and I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. “Let’s see where I can try these on.”

I made my way to the middle of the store, finding the fitting rooms. I gestured at Iain to wait and went into the only empty one, removing my clothes and slipping into the first dress, a black long-sleeved number fitted at the waist. I turned around, looking at my reflection to see my backside, wincing at my pale legs.

“How’s it looking in there?” Iain asked from outside the door. I smoothed the front of the dress and opened up, doing a lame little curtsy in the doorway.

“What do you think?”

He nodded in appreciation, his eyes dancing down my front. “Very nice. Now turn around.”

Shyly, I spun around, letting him admire that too, before turning back toward him, the hem of my dress dancing around my knees.

“I’ll be cold wearing this,” I complained.

“You look sexy in it. And you wouldn’t be cold with a coat and… what are those things? That cover up your legs?” He was gesturing vaguely toward my own, and I giggled.

“You mean tights?”

“Yeah! Tights. And boots, or something. I don’t know.”

“Right. While you figure out the intricacies of the female wardrobe, I’m gonna try on the next dress.” I shut the door, smiling and shaking my head. I pulled off the dress I was wearing and tugged on the next one, also black, but with tiny pink flowers scattered across it. It was sleeveless, and my arms were chilled.

I opened the door once I got the thing zipped up all the way and looked expectantly at Iain.

“Well?” I prompted. “Does this also pass the Iain Test?”

“Hmm.” He stepped forward, reaching out to touch my bare shoulders, his hands warm. His thumbs caressed the place where the material met my skin, and my eyelashes fluttered from the intensity of such a simple touch. “Yes, I’d say I like this one, too.”

His words were soft, barely audible over the loud music and shuffle of the store. But everything else shrunk, disappeared. I stared at him, my heart picking up its pace, heavily aware of every breath I took, of every time I blinked.

And just like that, it was over. He dropped his hands, an easy smile spreading over his face. As if he had no idea at all what had just happened.

“Which one are you gonna get?” he asked.

In the end, I got them both, along with two pairs of tights and a new pair of boots, black ones with a small heel. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bought anything for myself that was just to have. All the shopping I did when I got here had been things I’d needed: warm clothes for winter, toiletries because I didn’t have any. Everything I owned was a product of necessity.

I looked down at the clothes in my basket. Buying these things was breaking the barrier I’d created. How did I feel about that?

The line moved forward, and I along with it, clutching the clothes to my chest. Iain’s hand rested on the small of my back, a gesture I was becoming familiar with.

“What are you doing tonight?” I asked him. “Working on your case again?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m getting closer to finishing it off.”

“What’s it like? Catching people in the act?”

Iain looked momentarily surprised by my question. “I guess… it’s thrilling, in a way, as terrible as that sounds. To ‘solve’ a case, there’s a sense of accomplishment. But it also sucks. I’ve brought the evidence people have asked for and then they break down from it. Knowing someone is cheating, that’s one thing. But seeing it?” He shook his head, his eyes downcast. “Seeing it makes it real.”

“Yeah. I can see how that’s hard.” The line moved forward again.

“Sometimes….” he trailed off, his voice faltering. I turned my head, meeting his eyes, urging him on. “Sometimes, I wish I could do something that meant something. Something that mattered.”

“You do,” I told him. He didn’t look convinced. “You’re helping people see the truth, aren’t you?”

“I guess I wish I could do something that didn’t feel so… dirty.”

“I happen to like when you’re dirty,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows at him. Iain grinned, the tension seeming to slip right off of him.

He leaned in, his lips grazing my ear as he said, “Then come over tonight. Stay with me. I’ll be more than happy to show you dirty.”

Color rushed to my face. We were next in line, and a cashier called us over. I hurried up to the counter and set my items down, digging into my bag for my wallet. She rang me up, giving me the total, and I counted out the bills to pay.

Iain took my bag for me and we walked out of the store. He grabbed my hand and we made our way in the direction we came from, the cold wind blowing eagerly against our faces.

“I’ll come over tonight,” I said after we’d taken a few steps. “After the open house.”

He smiled. It transformed his entire face, lighting it up, and my heart skipped a beat. “I’d like that.”

We walked back to my building, Iain’s hand in mine the entire time. As we approached the door, we stopped walking and he released my hand.

“I’m going to the hospital again today,” he said.

“Really? That’s great, Iain.”

“Yeah.” He was quiet after that, his eyes downcast, and I reached out to touch his face with my gloved hand, bringing his gaze toward me.

“You’re doing the right thing,” I told him. “I know it doesn’t feel that way, but you are.”

He looked momentarily pained but then nodded. “I know that.” He leaned in, kissing me softly. When he drew back, he said, “I can’t wait to see you tonight. I hope you have a good time at the art show.”

It seemed like he was changing the subject, but I didn’t want to push him. I wished I could invite him to the open house; I would very much like having him there, but I didn’t feel it was appropriate to assume that he could come when Evan’s invitation was only for me. I nodded, grinning, thinking about all the things we could do tonight, the thoughts warming me up and speeding my heart.

It felt so normal, making plans, kissing in public. He was so close to me, his eyes on mine, still holding my shopping bag, his cheeks pink from the cold. On the outside, nobody would have ever guessed how we had come together. I marveled at that, at how Brandon could have been the reason I was able to have something so perfect. It was ironic, in the best way.

We parted ways, and I made my way up to Shannon’s apartment. I was excited for tonight.

But most of all, for the first time in years, I was hopeful.