Chapter 9
The sweaty boy standing panting on our doorstep makes my breath disappear. An apologetic smile is smeared on his face, as if he's embarrassed.
"Colin," I manage to stammer.
"Sorry, practice went on and on. You said your time is valuable, and I didn't want to be late." He wipes the sweat off his forehead. I think he ran all the way from school.
All this just to be on time?
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have turned up like this, I can go . . ." He doesn't even complete the sentence before I interrupt him sharply.
"No." My cheeks redden, "Come in, it's fine." It's not really fine. His smell is the last thing I need right now. Really, how am I supposed to concentrate?
"Are you sure?" he frowns.
"Yes. My parents aren't home, do you want to shower?"
My question makes his eyebrow rise mischievously, which makes me force my legs together. A pleasant feeling spreads between my thighs, and I swallow thinking that at this rate, not only my panties will get wet. How embarrassing would that be?
"I didn't mean that . . ." I falter, suspecting that this is exactly what he wants to happen. "Not you and I together . . . just . . . you know . . . if you want . . ." What I want is to stop acting like someone whose brain is fried!
"Sure?" he asks arrogantly as he walks past me and rubs his shoulder with mine. If he forgets his shirt in my room, I'll smell it all night. Don't think about that now!
"School work, Colin, that's why you're here, don't get ideas into your head." I manage to raise some confidence.
"You're the one who offered." He laughs, pulls his shirt over his head and throws it at me. I catch it awkwardly.
"I didn't . . ." I'm not going to survive this evening.
"Relax," he sneaks a glance at me, "I'm don’t mess with virgins."
My heart falls, and I think even Colin heard the crash.
"And I don’t . . . mess with . . ." The words refuse to come.
"With?" He teases me, again. It's become an obscene habit.
"With male whores." My hand leaps to my mouth before I say anything else.
He freezes, then turns slowly with a look that scares me for a moment.
"Is that what I am?" he asks in a low, low voice.
"I'm sorry," I say through the barrier made by my fingers.
"Don't be sorry." He winks. "That's exactly what I am, and you don't get any. Now where's the shower?"
He turns his back again, and with arrogant steps, goes up the stairs to the second floor.
I can't believe I said that, and I can't believe he's the guy I'm in love with.
The sign on the furniture store door is gone.
My heart drops, as I take in the meaning behind it's disappearance.
I'm going to be unemployed.
Henry is leaning against the counter, his eyes betraying his worry. He doesn't like changes and we are both facing a rather large one.
"We're history." I toss the bag at his side and take out the shopping list I've started to do. I have no intention of letting Colin come into my house and think my cabinets and refrigerator are empty. Not that they are empty, not at all, but I don't want to take the risk.
"Cooking?" Henry glances at the ever-growing list.
"I'm hosting," I concede.
"A battalion of the army?" he mumbles, but his remark shrinks my chest. Not a battalion, just one soldier. It's going to kill me. Thank God for the twenty-five thousand dollars that went into my account.
"I'm making dinner and not sure what to cook." So I'm going to buy everything I can think of.
"You invited him, didn't you?" Henry exposes me quite easily.
"Yes." I feel the lump forming in my throat. "Who else can I invite over?"
"Anyone would be lucky if you were to host them," he tries to cheer me up. "You're smart and beautiful."
"You forgot single-mom living in a two-room bungalow," I grumble. So I'm smart, wow, like it did me any good. I'm not pretty, and I have an ugly scar on my stomach that would probably scare any guy who sees it, let alone my other complicated issues.
"Elizabeth, Henry." Mr. Blunt's voice surprises us both. Where did he sneak up from?
"Mr. Blunt," I answer with concern.
"I wanted to let you know that the new owner will be moving in in the next few weeks."
Great. Just what I needed today, when my ex is coming to dinner.
"We'll have to pack the furniture, I hope I can count on you."
He stares at me disapprovingly. I've been missing a lot of work this month, and I know that if I miss anymore, Mr. Blunt won't accept it with understanding.
"You can count on us," I answer firmly.
"Happy to hear, you can start on Monday. Whatever you need is in the storage."
I am not eager to hear that we are about to spend the next week wrapping all the pictures, mirrors and scribbles that fill the place.
"Everything will be ready for when the trucks arrive." I don't think Mr. Blunt will be taking the furniture in his car.
"I'll let you know as soon as I know." He glances around his beloved store, which is about to close, turns his back on us and walks away to the office.
"Do you still think Danielle Cole is the girl you want to be with?" I grumble to Henry, who seems desperate about the situation.
"Not so much," he mumbles.
"I bet not." I go back to my shopping list. To hell with Danielle Cole, and to hell with this dinner that is going to drive me crazy.
I drum my fingers nervously on the steering wheel. In the backseat Vivian is listening to music on my cellphone, giving me a few minutes of silence to gather my thoughts. The stitches on her forehead are healing nicely, and now she is about to meet . . . Maybe I should cancel, maybe it was a bad idea from the start. What was I thinking when I invited him to come, and what am I supposed to say to my daughter?
Nothing. I shouldn't tell her anything. Yet.
I'm going to be out of work if I don't find something fast. But I am so limited in my hours, not many places hire single moms. How many days have I missed in the last few weeks? Four? Fuck, it'll take revenge on my salary.
You don't depend on that now, you have money, and Colin will pay.
I scold myself immediately. I'm not going to depend on him, and the money he gave me has to go to a savings account for Vivian's college. At least she will make something of herself, if she doesn't make the mistakes I made myself.
I park the car in front of the house, turn off the engine and release my seatbelt.
"We're here," I turn to look at Viv.
"Who's that?" She purses her eyebrows, her gaze toward the house.
"Who's who?" I turn my head and freeze. Why was he early?
"Ah, this is Mom's friend, I invited him to dinner." My heart starts beating faster. Colin stands in front of us, his hands in his jeans pockets, the sleeves of his t-shirt clinging to his muscular arms."He's huge!" Vivian laughs.
"Do you think?" I don't take my eyes off him.
"You never invite your friends."
That's because I have no friends. Except for Henry, and he doesn't really count.
"Well now I have. I thought it would be nice." I stare at the guy who smiles at us from the porch, shifting uncomfortably.
"Will you behave?" I turn back to Vivian and try hard to hide the panic attack I'm about to get. What was I thinking? What the hell was I thinking?
"I need to pee!" Viv releases her belt, takes out the earphones, leaves the phone on the backseat and opens the door.
Oh my God. It's really happening. He is really going to meet her.
She leaps out of the car and runs toward the house.
"Viv!" I call as I pull out the keys, rush to open the car door and run after her. "The house is locked!"
"I need to pee!" she jumps in place. I run to the door, open it, and let her inside. Slowly I turn to Colin, who stands stunned.
"You're early," I mutter, his eyes still looking into the house.
"Colin?"
"That's . . ." He can't speak.
"Vivian."
"She's beautiful." He seems hypnotized. She looks like him, and he's not ugly. He's as far from ugly as possible, and if I used to think he looked good, now he's plain hot. God, what is with me? And why did he have to have those tattoos that look perfect on his arms?
"I have to take the groceries out of the car." I shake my head of my thoughts, walk past Colin, open the trunk, and begin to take out the bags.
"Let me help you." He emerges from behind me and his proximity makes me jump. His smell is different and, as for his size, I've always felt tiny beside him, but now it's ridiculous.
"I've got this." I try to breathe and hope he'll move away.
"I'm sure." He ignores me and leans into the trunk next to me, grabbing the bags. "To the kitchen?"
"Yes, please." I nod, he straightens up above me, turns his back and walks to the house. I pick up my cellphone, lock the car, and join him in the kitchen. He places the bags on the small marble counter and starts to inspect the place.
"I want to play in the yard." Vivian returns from the bathroom, and Colin doesn't take his eyes off her. Here it comes.
"Do you want to say hello to Colin?" My voice is shaking like a leaf.
"Hey," she smiles at him. I see his body tensing, shifting weight from foot to foot.
"Hey," he answers softly. "I'm Colin."
"I'm Vivian. My father's name is Colin too."
In one second I feel like a complete idiot. I should have thought about it, or come up with some other name for Colin, or have just activated my dead brain cells in some way!
My heart is racing. Thank God she had not seen any pictures of him. Thank God they are hidden well. I hated myself when I lied to her and said we had no picture of him, I didn't want her to look at them again and again. I hated myself then, but I'm relieved now.
"I have stitches." She gently pulls her hair back and shows him her forehead.
"I see. Why did you need stitches?" he pretends not to know.
"I fell, and the doctor gave me juice and made me sleepy. He was nice."
"Yes?" Colin's voice fails for a moment.
"Very nice, wasn't he, Mom?" She turns her head to me quickly.
"Very nice." How did she notice? Dr. Diaz was professional and sensitive and cared not only for Vivian. He also took care of my wellbeing, which earned him a few more points.
"Nice, huh?" Colin asks intently. I guess he’s not a big fan of the doctor after their encounter.
"Very professional," I wave off his inappropriate question.
"He looks like Flynn," Vivian rejoices. "Can I go out now?"
"Yes, I'll open the door for you." I walk over to the glass door in the living room wall and send the little monster out. What now?
"Do you want to listen to music?" I ask trying to change the subject.
"No." His eyes remain on me.
Dinner won't prepare itself, you know?
"So, who is Flynn?" Colin is intrigued.
"Flynn?" I rummage through my memory. "Oh, a character from one of the movies she loves."
"What movie?" He scrunches his eyebrows.
"Tangled," I reply.
"Is that her favorite movie?" he continues to investigate. His daughter is four and a half, and he has no idea what movies she likes.
"It was. At the moment, it's Frozen." If Disney doesn't release something new soon that my daughter will love, I'll go crazy. How many times can one hear the same songs?
"Does she like to play outside?"
"Yes," I manage to free my legs from their momentary paralysis and go to arrange the shopping in the cupboards. "She also likes to play with her dolls, watch TV and bake with me."
"And she's okay outside, alone?" He looks at the glass door.
"I fenced the yard, there's nowhere she can go." I open the refrigerator and put in the groceries. "Would you like something to drink?"
"Coffee, thank you." He goes back to inspecting the house. I wonder if he is filled with memories, if his head throws him into those days, when this place was his home.
"Listen, Colin . . ." I put the kettle on and turn to him.
"Do you want to move?"
"Move where?" His question confuses me.
"To a bigger house."
"Okay," I take a deep breath. "Let's set some rules, so we can get through the evening safely."
I lean back against the marble counter and cross my arms on my chest.
"Like old times," he mumbles.
"Don't go there, Colin. I'm not looking for a walk down memory lane." I've been walking there for weeks, and it isn't nice, believe me. "And as for the rules, you're not here to fix anything, you're here to meet Vivian and get to know her. I didn't invite you over so that you'd take one look at the place and think it was uninhabitable."
He frowns. "That's not what—”
"That's what your question implied. So I'll spare you the trouble. Vivian sleeps with me in the one bedroom, the shower's dripping, the television breaks down, the kitchen sink sometimes gets clogged, and my car lives on borrowed time. And you know something, it's really okay, so don't come in here with your money, which God only knows where you got it from, and try to bribe me."
"I wasn’t bribing you," his voice turns serious. "And I didn't say that the house was not habitable. I asked if you wanted to move to a bigger house, because that was our plan, and I can afford it."
"And you want to help," I finish his sentence scornfully.
"I'm taking responsibility."
"Too late for that, Colin." I hug myself harder.
"I hope not." He runs his hand through his hair and pulls it back. Hell, every move he makes seems familiar. I know how tense he could be, how he moved and how his eyes would follow me. In perfect timing, Vivian comes running and saves us from the embarrassing silence.
"Do you want to tell me how your day was?" I take a deep breath as she climbs onto a chair and sits down at the table. I turn my back on her and make chocolate milk for her and coffee for Colin and me—God knows I need it.
"Mrs. Robbins reminded me to be careful," she says in her squeaky voice. "And not to go on the slide, and watch it when I wash my face."
"I'm happy to hear that."
"And Daryl said my brain will pour out," she grumbles.
"I think I should have a talk with Daryl's mother," I mumble quietly.
"Who's Daryl?" Colin's bass voice is inquiring.
"He's my best friend," she chirps. "He knows everything."
"Really?" I hear a creaking chair. Glancing back, my body tenses as Colin sits down beside his perfect duplication.
"He's really smart and he's going to be an astromount," she miss-pronounses the word as she always does. The smile on Colin's face makes them both shine. I swallow, when a forgotten sensation makes it’s way to parts of my body that have been in a coma for years.
You're not serious!
"Daryl will be lucky if he graduates from high school," I mutter to myself again, taking the milk out of the fridge.
"And this astromount is your friend?" Colin follows suit with the word.
"Yes, I'm going to marry him."
"We'll see about that." I put the coffee on the table. We do not mention weddings in this house, certainly not now.
"I understand we like Daryl," Colin raises an eyebrow and gives me an amused look.
"Don't encourage her," I say, turning to Viv. "What do you want to do next?"
"Rosie has a birthday, and I want to bake her a cake."
"That's very nice of you," Colin is impressed.
"Rosie is her doll." I lower my head.
"I understand."
"I have to make dinner."
"But I have to celebrate her!" Vivian insists.
"You can take cookies from the jar," I suggest.
"I want four."
"Two," I hold up two fingers.
"Four!" She doesn't give up.
"Two or nothing."
"You're no fun!" she protests firmly.
"How about we go celebrate Rosie's birthday and let your mother prepare dinner?" Colin suggests. I blink my eyes several times just to make sure I'm not dreaming. "What?" he laughs in response to my face.
"You don't know what you’ve gotten yourself into," I shake my head.
"I'm sure I'll survive," he shrugs. "Where are the cookies?" he winks at me. I should have guessed. The guy was always hooked on cookies—with coffee, without coffee, a cookie on the way, a cookie before bed.
"Trickster," I mumble. "Top shelf, she'll show you."
Before I know what's happening, Colin gets up and picks Vivian up by her waist.
"Lead the way, Captain!" My heart crashes in my chest. That's exactly how it was supposed to be. That's what I imagined, that's what I dreamed of, and that’s what he stole from us.
"Higher!" Vivian cries out, and Colin lifts her up without effort. I want to kill him for the ease with which he captures her heart, the smile he puts on her face, which should have always been there.
"Mom, look, I'm an astromount!" she laughs.
"I have to make dinner." I turn my back to them as the choking in my throat increases. Viv takes the cookies out of the jar, puts two on a plate, and all the while she doesn't come down from Colin's hands. They move into the living room and sit on the carpet. I manage to breathe and occupy myself in the kitchen between the glances I sneak their way. It's so easy to come for a few hours and play with the girl and be the good guy.
"How old is Rosie?" Colin is leaned back against the couch.
"Twenty-ten," Viv answers with utter seriousness.
"Wow."
"I know!" she rejoices. "She says you're welcome."
"Thank you."
"You have to wear this." She goes over to the little wooden box and opens it. Now, this is going to be fun. Pulling out a golden crown she places it on Colin's head. "Perfect!"
"So," Colin straightens the crown, "what are we doing at this party?"
"Visiting the beauty salon!" Vivian jumps up. "Mama, can you get your nail-polish, please?"
"Sure, honey." I smile nastily at Colin, who seems to have lost some of his ample confidence. "Use the red, Colin will look great in it."
"I love red," Colin smiles back at me.
"I'm sure," I grumble to him. How's your porridge now, huh?
An hour later Vivian gets up from the dining table and leaves me alone with her father, whom I hate more and more with every passing moment. I made pasta with tomato sauce and pretended I'd forgotten he hates tomatoes. He ate anyway and tried to look brave. He must be sick now.
He spent twenty five minutes on the carpet with Viv and asked her so many questions, I had trouble keeping up.
Who her friends were, what color she liked best, even what she'd asked for for her birthday. She, of course, mentioned the dress and the trampoline I was not going to buy.
You don't really think you can cramp four years into an hour, do you?
"The nail polish suits you," I smile. His fingernails and substantial parts of his fingers are painted bright red, and he doesn't seem to care, which is even more annoying.
Damn him and the lightness he my girl inherited from him!
"Acetone, you know," he raises his hands and pretends to be impressed by his nails. "What I wouldn't give to see you go into the pharmacy and buy the bottle."
"You're jealous because I was invited to Rosie's birthday, and you were not."
"She's twenty ten, who do you think celebrated her twenty ninth birthday?" We sound like two stupid sixteen-year-olds. Very mature, Liz. "We both know that for another cookie you would sell a kidney."
"You're probably right," he shrugs again. I know I'm right, and he has to go.
"I have to shower Viv and put her to bed." I get up from the table and start to clear it.
"I'll wash the dishes," he volunteers immediately and gets up behind me, his phone ringing again. How much work does he have that people are calling him at all hours of the day?
"You don't have to do the dishes," I stop him, as he glances at his phone before shoving it back in his pocket. "You must be busy."
I don't want him to stay. The evening was challenging enough and should end now.
"I was hoping we could talk," he answers quietly.
"I'm tired, I'll probably fall asleep next to her." I really don't want to talk.
"Maybe next time," he sounds disappointed.
"Maybe." Life is hard, Colin, and the times when you got everything you wanted are long gone.
"Elizabeth . . ."
"Vivian!" I call, "Say bye to Colin, he's leaving!"
"Bye, Colin." She waves to him from the living room and he smiles at her warmly.
"Bye, Vivian, thanks for the party."
"Tomorrow I'm celebrating Theresa's birthday," she informs him. I almost lose it. He is not going to come every day!
"I'm afraid I can't make it, but give her my love." I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank God, he has a little decency. Like, a drop of it. He turns to me and the smile disappears from his face. "Good night, Elizabeth."
"Bye," I answer in the most indifferent voice I can muster. You came, you met the girl, you can go. He turns his back on me, opens the door, goes out and closes it behind him. Leaving a deceptive silence, and my body tense as a spring. I lean on the sink and try to breathe regularly.