- Gemma -
Alex’s broad shoulders dwarfed his chair as he leaned back. “I got a job that summer,” he said. “To help out my mom.”
I forced a smile. “That was good of you.”
“It had nothing to do with you.”
I dropped my eyes to my steaming mug and slid it towards me. “I never thought it did,” I lied, thinking of the nights I spent staring at the underside of the bunk above me, replaying our kiss from the previous summer in my mind and wondering if I’d scared him off.
Looking back, I knew it was silly to think he’d stopped coming to camp because of a stupid kiss. It only lasted a few seconds. And overall it was kind of fumbly and awkward. Not that I understood that then.
Besides, the kiss itself wasn’t why it meant so much to me. It was the fact that for one second, I didn’t feel fat and ugly and invisible. For one second, I felt light and attractive and seen.
Did he know what that meant to me back then? How many character-building days I got through because of the kindness he showed me when I was at my most insecure?
“Did you miss me?” he asked.
I flicked my eyes up at him and felt my stomach flip at his focused attention. “Of course,” I said, trying to sound as casual as possible so he wouldn’t detect how needy and nostalgic I was for that feeling. “Eating peanut butter out of a jar alone isn’t nearly as socially acceptable as using the buddy system.”
He smiled, and my insides turned to mush.
I straightened up in my seat and hoped my cheeks weren’t as pink as they felt.
“Is that why you stopped?”
“Stopped what?” I asked, noticing the absence of a wedding ring on his hand.
“Eating peanut butter out of the jar? No offense, but you don’t look like you do that much anymore.”
His awareness of my body made me squirm. Anyone’s did. Especially now that I’d lost so much weight. Before that, people’s eyes could only find the sack of armor I wore around me. The weight used to make me feel safe, protected. And no matter how strong I felt now, the fact that I was a womanly shape provoked a whole new kind of vulnerability, one I was still learning to navigate
“I didn’t say that to be rude,” he said. “I’m just interested in health and fitness.”
“I know.” Compliments may have been a mystery to me, but rudeness I was well able to spot. “And to answer your question, no. I kept eating peanut butter out of the jar without you. I only stopped last year when my ex kindly pointed out that my dimpled thighs looked exactly like sacks of crunchy peanut butter.”
The color drained from his face.
“Not a nice guy in the end.”
“Jesus, Gemma. I didn’t know—”
I waved his concern away. “It’s fine.” If he thought that was bad, he’d probably faint at some of the names my ex called me. Tubs. Lardass. Tiny. Crisco Kid. The Cookie Monster.
“What an asshole.”
“Wish I’d figured that out as fast as you did.” I drained the rest of my coffee and reached for his mug.
“I got it,” he said, taking them to the sink.
I turned in my chair and watched the muscles in his back shift as he washed the mugs. “What did you end up doing for work?” I asked, desperate to change the subject. “That summer?”
“I got a job as a janitor in a local gym.”
“And you cleaned the weights until you could lift them?”
“Very funny,” he said, glancing over his shoulder before turning off the faucet. “But you’re not far off.”
“There’s a dishtowel on the inside of the cupboard.”
He looked around, his wet hands raised in the air.
I made a beeline for the cabinet beneath the sink, reaching awkwardly past his hips to free the dishtowel from where it was hanging so near his crotch it triggered a hot flash between my legs. When I held the towel up, he wrapped his hands around it, inadvertently trapping my hand in his.
I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the sparks flying inside me in response to his shrouded touch, but my breath caught in my throat when I saw how he was looking at me.
“Thanks,” he said, his deep voice making me forget myself.
“I’m going to need that back,” I said, my soft voice shaky as I nodded towards my hand.
He loosened his grip to let me go.
“There you are,” Mary said as she appeared in the doorway.
I turned towards her as Alex reached for one of the mugs and set it on the drying rack.
“Where the heck have you been?” she asked.
I opened my mouth to speak, but it turned out to be a hypothetical question.
“There’s a pileup at the front desk over some water aerobics harassment issue, and I can’t. I just can’t. You know I leave early on Mondays.”
Is that a Monday thing now? I wanted to ask. I thought it was an every fucking day thing. “I’ll be right there.”
“Ten minutes ago would be better,” she said, disappearing down the hall.
I clenched my jaw and took a deep breath.
“Does she always snap at you like that?” Alex asked, shifting his weight.
“Scary Mary snaps at everyone like that.”
“Scary Mary?”
I shrugged. “Hungry Mary would be more accurate, but it’s less catchy.” I ran a hand over my head. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Isn’t she the manager? Shouldn’t she deal with something as serious as harassment?”
“You’d think,” I said. “But if she took her hanger out on the members instead of the staff, there would be none of the former.”
Alex followed me out of the break room and down the hall.
“Can I be candid with you?” I asked quietly, seeking verbal confirmation that the inexplicable trust I had in him wasn’t totally unjustified.
“Of course.”
“Between you and me, she’s pretty checked out of this place.”
“How do you mean?” he asked, offering a smile to some middle-aged women by the watercooler that triggered a cascade of giggles and whispers.
“I mean you can’t make someone care, you know?”
“Isn’t that what paychecks are for? To make people care about their jobs?”
“That’s a depressing thought,” I said, speeding up when the young women at the front desk came into view. “Can you see if Mary’s office is unlocked? I want this discussion to take place behind closed doors.”
“Sure thing,” Alex said, calling to me when he’d confirmed there was a private place to bring the angry members.
I invited the two girls to join me in the back to discuss their issue, which seemed to be a certain dirty old man whose presence had taken the fun out of their water aerobics class. “Would you excuse us?” I asked Alex after he assumed a standing position by the office door.
“Wouldn’t it be good for me to see how you handle this?” he asked.
“It would be good if you could cover for me at the front desk,” I said, pushing him out the door. “Greet the visitors. Remind people that we’re closed for maintenance next Saturday night. Pick up any towels you see lying around.” I closed the door in his surprised face.
“Okay, girls. What exactly happened?” I ignored Mary’s standing desk and pulled up a chair.
The shorter one nodded to her tall friend, whose wet hair had soaked the shoulders of her shirt. “Some guy showed up unexpectedly today—”
“I know the feeling.”
They cocked their dripping heads.
“Never mind,” I said, leaning forward and doing my best to focus on them. “Please continue.”
But something told me it wouldn’t be the last slip of unprofessionalism Alex’s presence provoked in me.
Not if the infatuated butterflies in my stomach had anything to say about it.