Jackie

“Anything else?” Marco Zennaro asked as he tucked a side table under his arm like it weighed nothing.

I peeked into the van. “No, that’s everything. Thank you so much for letting me store everything here.”

“No problemo, Jackie. Hey, did Shar tell you that I’ve got this poker buddy, Sid? He’s divorced and looking around. You guys might hit it off. Can I give him your number?”

“Actually, I have this great boyfriend right now. But thanks anyway.” My cheeks flamed as I answered. In fact, I got a total body hot flash each time I mentioned Leo.

Sharon returned from the house and smacked her brother on the shoulder. “Don’t pimp out my best friend to your poker buddies. She’s too good for them.”

I closed the van doors.

Marco stood there, table balanced on his hip. “You two want to stay for a drink or something? Gina’s supposed to drop by later.”

Sharon kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, but we need to get back. We left Hannah and Kayla alone, and Jackie’s been sweating bullets the whole time.”

“I haven’t been sweating,” I protested. After another discussion with Brent, we agreed that Hannah could begin babysitting. So the two girls were in charge of themselves and Tristan while Sharon and I drove to Coquitlam to drop off my stash of extra furniture before our first open house.

Sharon nodded. “Yeah, checking your phone every thirty seconds and calling her twice in an hour shows what an ice-cold bitch you are.”

It was easy for her; Kayla had been staying by herself for a year—a fact that Hannah recited regularly. We thanked Marco again and got into the van.

“How come he has so much space?” I wondered as I pulled out through the iron gates of his driveway. Sharon’s brother was a single guy with a 5000-square foot home.

“He bought this place because it’s got a triple lot. But he’s never gotten around to developing it.” Sharon replied.

“When is he going to marry Gina?” I asked. They’d been going out ever since I’d met Sharon, which was over ten years ago.

“Fucked if I know. I think it’s because she’s too nice. At some point, you have to tell your boyfriend to shit or get off the pot. She’s never done that.” Her voice trailed off. “Listen, kiddo. I heard what you said about Leo. Did you guys have the talk yet?”

“The talk? What is that?”

“You know, the relationship talk. Like if you’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

I shook my head. “We don’t need to have a talk. We’re having, er, relations.” My blush returned. Incredible, fireworks-igniting relations that made my body tingle when I remembered the feel of his tongue on me.

Sharon’s sigh filled the car. “Why me, Lord? Okay, welcome to dating in the twenty-first century. People hook up and it means nothing.”

“Of course it’s a relationship. He’s going to be coming over for dinner every Wednesday night. At least when he’s not busy.” That rationale sounded ridiculous even before the last word came out of my mouth.

“So he gets food and a fuck. Sex does not mean commitment. I hate to have to bust the balloon you’ve been floating around in ever since you got laid, but you need to take things slow.”

“We are taking things slow. He’s really busy, and I don’t have that much free time.” Otherwise we’d be following Leo’s suggestion of a dirty weekend. That would be heavenly.

“Jackie, you’re not. You only know two states: being alone and being married. You’re cooking dinner for Leo, you’re finding a nanny for him, and you’d be redecorating his place if you hadn’t done that already. A wife does all that shit. You’re not his wife.”

“Decorating his place was my job,” I protested. She couldn’t know about the new curtains and the fern in a striped pot. “Besides, I’m finally happy after all that time being miserable. Why are you saying all this?”

“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt. I’m not saying don’t enjoy yourself; I’m only saying slow the fuck down. Besides you weren’t miserable before, you were painting and enjoying life.”

“Ugh, I’m one of those women, aren’t I? The crazed let’s-look-at-china-patterns-after-the-first-date women you see in the movies. I’m being a complete idiot.”

But Leo made me feel like I was alive and desirable after all the time I’d felt discarded and worthless. He was so amazing. Not only the sex, but he was so smart and perceptive. Wait, did that mean he could see how much I was into him? Maybe it was already too late.

Sharon saw the change in expression on my face. “Fuck. I can see you’re getting all upset. Look, let’s talk about something else. What’s with all the furniture we took over to Marco’s place? Didn’t you do all that clutter-cleaning shit before the real estate agents came in?”

“I did. This is all the stuff I’ve been buying for the project I’m doing with Fiona in the fall. Whenever I’m at a garage sale or thrift shop, I pick up bargains that I can refurbish.”

“You go, girl! Hey, have you given any more thought to doing a house flip with me? There’s a guy I know who has a nice house to rent. It’s only a block from us, and he’s picky about who he rents to. If I recommend you, you’ll be in.”

I scrunched up my nose. “I’m still not sure about leaving West Van. After everything I’ve done to keep their lives stable, should I be making them change schools and their friends?”

“Tristan’ll have new friends in no time. Hannah would have Kayla. It’s her last year of elementary. Once they’re in high school, moving gets way more tricky.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve thought about all this, but it’s tough for me to make up my mind.” Maintaining the status quo was easier than making a big change. But still, dating had been a big leap, and look how well that had turned out. “Besides, our house may not even sell for ages.”

“Your house is a realtor’s wet dream—it’s going to sell after the agent’s open. Did you go with Carole?”

“Yes.” I didn’t go into all the details of the battle royale that ensued when I insisted on Carole over Brent’s agent.

“Good for you. Did you end up telling Brent to fuck off on the art issue?”

“No, but I had a brainstorm. It was all the colour he didn’t like. I took my existing paintings, put lines of painter’s tape over them, and then painted the whole thing with raw titanium and yellow ochre. Then I pulled away the tape, popped them into plain wood frames, and voila… tasteful, refined art! Brent didn’t say boo.”

It was a small victory for Team Jackie, but a victory was a victory.