Life was beyond perfect, as far as Cheri was concerned. As she progressed through her days, her head hummed with contentment and peace. She and Thomas had been there before, but this time they’d grown even closer, and they shared so many good times. They seemed so compatible, so at ease with one another. Before, she believed they were heading somewhere, until an uneasy coincidence led her to discover that someone at work knew him a bit too well. That knowledge had devastated her then, but now they had hit a stride, a new level in their relationship, and Cheri couldn’t stop smiling about that. This time was different; she just knew it and felt it. When she told him goodbye the first time, he was all broken up. Now, he was a changed man, a new Mr. Graham, and they were on track again. Every cell in her body told her they had something special, that theirs was not ordinary, that what existed between them was real, true love.
Cheri didn’t expect to spend every waking minute with him, in his arms, or texting back and forth. Thomas was a very busy, very successful contractor, and she understood that he was under pressure to meet deadlines and complete many high-bid construction and renovation projects in the city, including the one she happened to walk past that fateful day. Not only that, but she had a lot on her paralegal plate as well, and she had things to tend to at home. Once the rain settled down, Mr. Titus and his crew could finally get back underway with her leaky roof.
Wayne was a little on the pesky side and messaged her chronically about every little detail of the job. She wondered if Thomas was like that with his clients, though she didn’t dare ask him. He already wanted to bump Titus Home Repairs out of the way and take over, and that would be all the ammunition he would need to do just that.
Despite their busy lives, though, Cheri didn’t think it was unfair to expect to hear from Thomas occasionally. He was, after all, courting her, in his own words, and up until the moment they started sleeping together again they’d been somewhat chatty and flirty. At that point, all the texting and talking and joking was almost a little too much, something like a codependent addiction, to the point where Cheri actually had to put down the phone and do an honest hour’s work. Since that morning when he dropped her off at work after she spent the night at his place, though, there had been one measly little message. Days passed, and it seemed Thomas had simply disappeared.
Cheri wasn’t a possessive person by nature, and she certainly didn’t want to be that woman, the kind who constantly kept tabs and nagged her guy. She didn’t want to find herself doing drive-bys at his house or job sites, even though it would have been easy enough to find him, since his name was on signs all over the city. She also didn’t want to just happen to be walking by, even if that had worked out before, as unplanned as it was. Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She was still so hot for him she could hardly stand it, distracted to the point where she couldn’t work. Cheri could not keep her mind on things, and even if her body wasn’t out stalking him her brain always was, desperately trying to figure out where the hell Thomas Graham could be and why hadn’t he called.
She reviewed their last communication, searching for any hint that he intended to drop off the radar. The single line of text simply said he was busy. At the time she assumed it referred to that day, but the more time that passed without a word, the more she felt like something was up. Given their history, and given Cheri’s propensity to be a victim of harsh anxiety, she immediately sank into a deep pit of fear and worry, her catastrophic thinking getting the best of her.
To make matters worse, by the end of the week Titus Home Repairs proved Thomas right. Every plea from him to let his company do the work spun in her head. If I hadn’t been so stubborn, if I had just taken him up on his offer in the first place, at least I’d know where to find him, she thought, torturing herself with regret.
Each night she returned home, all wound up from obsessing about the man who’d sworn he’d changed, the handyman she’d hired had taken her house apart a little more. First, it was a matter of the living room being covered with drop cloths. That made total sense and was just a minor annoyance, as her furniture had to be protected from whatever dropped from the ceiling during the work. Then, though, Wayne’s work expanded to involve the middle floor and the attic space, and it became painfully obvious that Mr. Titus was doing far more than necessary, demolishing things much too extensively for what she believed the repair should entail. The ball dropped when she came home to a gaping hole in her roof, draped with a tarp; it was so large it looked as if an asteroid had crashed right through the top of her house.
“What the…? What’s going on?” she asked the handyman in a panic.
“Just following the leak, ma’am,” he replied nonchalantly.
“Bullshit!” Cheri said, unable to take it anymore. In that moment, every ounce of anxiety and angst she felt, over Thomas and over the shaft job she was sure Titus Home Repairs was giving her, came out in a rage. “Put it all back together, Wayne…now!” she barked, barely able to contain herself.
“I don’t advise that. We need to—”
“Bullshit! You can stop chasing the damn leak and put my house back the way you found it,” she screamed, rudely cutting him off and even stomping her foot for effect.
“But, ma’am, we already—”
“I can see damn well what you’ve already done, and I’ll pay you for that work, but I want you to put everything back and get out,” she ordered.
“It’s gonna take a while,” he said.
“You have a week,” she snapped. “In seven days, you’d better be done and out of here.”
Cheri stomped off, with no confidence whatsoever that Wayne or his crew would return after they left that evening. She no longer felt safe in her home, considering it looked as if it had been through a World War. Desperate for help and some consoling, she called Thomas, only to be thrown to his voicemail again. She tried his work phone, but the result was the same and just as infuriating.
“That’s it!” she said angrily, tossing the phone to the tarp-covered couch. “If I don’t catch him first thing tomorrow, I’m going to that job site and asking his foreman where to find him.”
Her house was officially a disaster. She couldn’t stay there, and she didn’t have enough money saved to cover a hotel for any extended period, especially since she had even more repairs to pay for now. Feeling she had no other option, she packed up her sleeping bag and pillow and traveled back to the office to bunk down there. She lay awake under the most uncomfortable of conditions, obsessing about the man she was so hot for and overcome with massive insecurity and anger at the mess her head, heart, and life had become because of him and the botched roofing job.
After a crappy night’s sleep and a workday that dragged on as if every minute was packed with sixty extra seconds, Cheri resorted to something she never thought she would do: She made up an excuse to drop by Thomas’s house. The care package from Whole Foods seemed like a nice gesture, but it was just a shameless attempt to spy on him. The stuff she bought didn’t even make sense, just a bunch of random vegetables, mindlessly thrown into the cart like the most neglectful of tossed salads, but she was so tired she couldn’t think straight.
As she strolled up to the set the bag on the step, his security light went on. Immediately, a beautiful woman came to the door, and Cheri felt her head pulling apart, threatening to split.
“Hello?” said the beauty innocently.
The woman was wholesome, friendly, and perfect. It killed Cheri to see her in Thomas’s house, but she seemed to belong there, as comfortable a fit as his vintage furnishings. The only thing missing was a sweet little apron or maybe her wearing one of his shirts.
“Just some things for Gretchen,” Cheri lied, barely able to speak. She knew she had to play cheerful, when she felt so sick she wanted to puke all over his doorstep.
“Gretchen?” asked the woman, understandably confused at the made-up name.
“Yes, I’m running an errand for work,” Cheri said, adding to her lie. “If you don’t know a Gretchen, maybe I have the wrong address. I guess I’ll have to check my directions.”
“Yeah, I think you have the wrong house,” said the woman.
“Okay then,” said Cheri, ready to die of embarrassment and irritation. Her mind seemed to be spinning a million miles a minute, but her feet would only move so fast. She jogged to the corner as quickly as she could on those stone legs, eager to hail a cab and get the hell away from there.
Unfortunately for Cheri, she didn’t make her great escape quickly enough. Around the corner came Thomas’s truck, at the worst possible moment, beaming his headlights in her direction.
There you are, you two-timing, selfish son-of-a-bitch, she thought, glaring at the all-too-familiar vehicle.
“Hey,” he said, with an alarmed look on his face.
“Hey,” she said casually. “I’ve gotta be going. I just stopped by to drop this food off for you,” she explained, certain that she had a funny, bewildered look on her face as the words tumbled out, an expression she couldn’t possibly control. She spoke to him robotically, but at least she no longer felt like she was going to lose it. Somehow, she was totally numb.
“Is that why you’re really here?” he demanded, seemingly genuinely thrown by her presence.
“Is there a problem with me being here?” she asked, panic rising inside her. “Tell me you didn’t issue a restraining order,” she said, trying to make it sound like a joke.
“No, it’s just a really weird coincidence. I’m just came home after being away, and you’re here,” he said with a smirk. “Is something up, or…?”
“Like I said, I just brought you dinner,” she said.
“Aren’t you sweet?”
In the wake of the compliment, which sounded shallow and almost condescending, Cheri flipped her lid and blurted words she had no idea she was going to say. “Well, if I’m so fucking sweet, why are you accusing me of doing something weird?”
For an answer, he offered only silence. He just stared at her, blinking, as if in total disbelief.
She pressed her eyelids closed, as tightly as she could, but there was no hiding from his questioning glare, his silent interrogation. She stood there and thought for a moment, her fury growing with every passing second. So he was away. Great, but it’s not like he was in some Third World country, devoid of technology. She stole a glimpse of his face and wanted to shout, “Can you hear me now?” but she couldn’t, because he looked totally destroyed. “Where have you been?” she demanded, unable to keep from sounding like a nag.
“I’d rather not discuss it now,” he said, reverting to one of his vague, old standby answers, basically the same response he gave her when she first asked his name after he intervened in the metro that day.
Cheri refused to play that game of tug-of-war with him again, so she abruptly said, “Hey, no problem,” then shrugged it off and started to walk.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I’d rather not discuss it now,” she mocked.
Thomas jerked the emergency brake with an anger she’d never witnessed in him before. It wasn’t the zipping sound of the engaging brake that got her attention, nor was it the fact that he had parked in the middle of the street; the atmosphere itself seemed to change drastically, as if his temper had somehow conjured yet another thunderstorm, sunny as the day was.
“Get in the truck,” he ordered.
“I don’t want to,” she said, even though she wasn’t sure that was true. It all felt like a game to her, and she wasn’t sure she was willing to keep playing along.
“Get in, or I swear I’ll pick your little ass up and…” he paused, as if to sensor himself. “Please get in the truck, Cheri,” he said, in a much calmer, more pleading voice, although the tone didn’t match his words. “Please.” It sounded like more of a statement than a question, because he clearly didn’t like her being there.
Cheri said nothing and only stared at him.
“Do you have a minute?” he asked, softening weary with the exchange.
“No, I really don’t,” she said, then yawned, as if the whole conversation was wearing her out. As if the daunting dialogue between them wasn’t enough, her crappy night of fitful sleep at the office was catching up with her, and her head was heavy with exhaustion. “I have to go,” she reiterated, shaking her head.
“We haven’t seen each other in days. You’re here, and I’m here, and now you’ve gotta go?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Look, Cheri, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a really shitty week. No offense, but I don’t need any drama right now.”
Thomas’s security light went on again and, just as before, his gorgeous houseguest sashayed out onto the porch. This time, she looked even more confused as she gawked at Cheri.
“Marla, this is Cheri,” said Thomas. “Cheri, this is my cousin, Marla.”
“Cherry?” asked Marla.
“Yes, that’s my name,” Cheri replied, completely embarrassed. She liked the way her name looked on paper, but sometimes it was just plain annoying to have to explain the phonics of it. People have names like Sunshine and River. Why is a French name pronounced like fruit so perplexing? she wished, though, in that moment, that she had a more common name like Susan or Jennifer, because she felt about two feet tall when she shook hands with Thomas’s cousin. Was she really his cousin? From the look on Thomas’ face, he didn’t appear to be lying. He looked… exhausted.
Marla stared at her in confusion.
Cheri had two choices: She could tell on herself or just carry on with her former fib and split. She pondered that for a minute, then answered, “Nice to meet you, but I have to go.” She then turned to Thomas and said, “I’ll take you up on that ride, if it’s still available.”
“I’m giving her a ride home, just around the corner. I’ll be right back.”
Cheri walked around the truck and got in.
“What was all that back there?” Thomas asked, also sensing the uneasiness between them. “Are you okay? Did something happen at work?” he asked.
“I’m just tired,” she said, a half-truth if there ever was one. Her own week had been rather shitty as well, what with the wrecking crew from Titus Home Repairs, but she felt it was better to break that news to him when they were both well rested.
“Tired? You’ve had a week to catch up on your sleep,” he retorted, a mild flirtation. “You haven’t been burning calories with anyone else, have you?” he teased.
“No,” she spat, ready to burn a few by wringing his neck.
“Say, listen, I’m sorry if I was a bear back there. You know you’re welcome to drop by anytime you want. I’ve just had a lot going on…”
For a moment, it sounded like he might do her the courtesy of explaining himself, but he stopped short when his phone beeped. Cheri was so incredibly insecure by that point that she interpreted the tone of his voice as an indication that he was being purposefully distant and impersonal, preparing for that it’s-not-you-it’s-me speech, the proverbial dumping. She tried to slow her anxious thoughts and convince herself that the interruption was merely his cousin, but that only made her feel worse, and his next question confirmed one of her fears.
“Who is Gretchen?” he asked, looking at her scoldingly, his words sharp and his voice the furthest thing from seductive, which it should have been, considering the lovers had been apart for a week.
She lived only a block from him, so in the time it took to have a small conversation they had arrived. He stopped the truck in front of her house, still staring at her and awaiting an answer.
Cheri didn’t know what to say to him about her Gretchen story. She just wanted to hop out of the truck and run inside her dilapidated house, but Thomas obviously knew she was trying to evade him and hustled to catch her as she dashed for the door. She tried to turn the key in the lock, but he put his hand on the door, boxing her in with his undeniably amazing body, making it clear that she wasn’t going anywhere until he had an answer. Her throat went bone dry, though, and she couldn’t utter a word.
“Tell me again. What exactly were you doing at my place, and who is Gretchen?” he demanded.
“I just… Well, I…”
“Tell me you didn’t see Marla and think something was up, that I had another woman over.”
Caught like a helpless mouse in a trap, she remained silent.
“Answer me, Cheri,” he said softly.
“What if I say yes?” she huffed, clearly more annoyed with herself than the woman at his house. “For your information, I’ve also had a hellish week, and you’re not gonna like it when I tell you about it.”
“What happened?” he asked with genuine concern.
“I needed you, so I stopped by your house. I guess I should’ve just told her who I am, but I didn’t know she was your cousin, or I would have…” Her voice trailed off, refusing to work anymore as her eye caught a glimpse of the giant blue tarp draping her roof.
“I made a promise to you,” he said, “and I plan to keep it. I admit I was, uh…less than honest with you in the past, but this nonsense isn’t really all that honest either.”
“I know,” she said. “I apologize to you and your cousin. I’ve officially made things weird.”
He shook his head. “No, I did that. I scared you, and scared people act out in different ways.”
Cheri could literally feel it when the light bulb went on in Thomas’s head. She didn’t have to ask what was bothering him when he suddenly stopped talking and took a step back to the middle of the walkway, staring up at the shattered roof.
“For fuck’s sake!” he cursed. “This just keeps getting better and better. I gotta see inside.”
“No,” she said, doing her best to body-block him with her much smaller frame.
He raised his eyebrows, his eyes flaring at her.
“It’s probably not safe.”
“So? Tell me you haven’t been bunking here while this douchebag did this to your house,” he challenged.
Again, she was silent.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, with all the control he could muster. “How bad is it?”
“I’m not sure. I just know it’s, uh…not good.”
“Let’s go,” Thomas said, finally lifting her layer of denial about the house.
“No, Thomas. No,” she rasped, fighting back the tears of humility that flooded her eyes, begging for release.
“Yes, Cheri. You need to start listening to me. I’m just gonna eyeball it, and then you’re coming to my house. You can’t stay here. This is horrible.” He shook his head.
“I can’t,” she said. “I don’t have the nerve to face your cousin. Besides, I think we can both use a real break from…well, everything. I can just go to a hotel.”
“Let’s not do this again.”
“What?”
“You should have let me help you in the first place, and we have to stop letting fear get in the way of communication. If you have a question, just ask me. I promise I’ll tell you.”
Cheri nodded. She felt kind of blasted, but the last thing she wanted was to engage in a full-blown argument with him. She had the presence of mind to take a step back and decided that if she still felt like speaking her peace later when she was calm and clear-headed, she would.
“Let’s go inside. I gotta see this,” he said very decisively, then turned her doorknob and pushed forward, so they could both check out the disaster zone together.