Stumbling into Love
Page 6
I love what I do. I love making people feel good and helping them relax. When I was younger, I used to get migraines so bad I would become physically ill. The doctors couldn’t do anything for me, so my mom did some research and found out that a lot of people were able to find relief with massage. I was skeptical, but after my first session, I left feeling normal and clear-minded—unlike when I took medication. That day, I became a believer. I knew that I wanted to help people the way I had been helped.
Once I get some incense burning, I take off my coat. I drape it over the back of my chair, then take a seat at my desk. I rest my forehead on the cool wood as tears fill my eyes again. I shouldn’t care as much as I do that things with Wesley ended the way they did, but that does nothing to stop the stabbing pain I feel in my chest.
It takes longer than I’m comfortable with to get myself under control, but after a few deep breaths, I sit up and pull his number out of my pocket. I try to memorize it before opening the top drawer in my desk and dropping it in, hoping I will never have to use it. I dig my cell phone out of my pocket and plug it in to charge, then head for the bathroom to clean up.
I have a few clients coming in today, so I figure that will help keep my mind busy until I leave the office. Then I’ll head out to visit my parents and sisters on Long Island for the Thanksgiving holiday. I’m now looking forward to going—they will be the distraction I so desperately need.
Standing in my parents’ kitchen the next morning, I lean against the counter with a cup of coffee in my hand, listening to my mom blabber on about the new neighbor who moved in a couple of houses down. Mom’s working on the pies for Thanksgiving tomorrow.
“He’s single. Maybe you could go over and introduce yourself to him,” she suggests, looking at me expectantly.
I hear Libby giggle from her perch on one of the stools at the island in front of us. She would think it’s funny that our mom is trying to hook me up with a fifty-year-old man she knows nothing about. It’s not happening to her.
“I’m not interested in dating anyone right now, Mom,” I mutter.
I take a sip of coffee.
“Are you a lesbian?”
I almost spit it out but instead suck it down the wrong pipe and choke on it. “What?” I cough, wipe away the coffee dribbling from my bottom lip, and grab a paper towel so I can wipe the rest off my hand and shirt.
“You haven’t been on a date in forever. I never hear you talk about any men that you are interested in. I’m just wondering if maybe you’re—”
“I’m not.” I cut off her next words. “God, Mom. Seriously?” I throw my free hand up in the air before dropping it back down to my side. “I don’t want to date, so I’m automatically a lesbian?”
“Well, there is nothing wrong with it if you are. You can’t blame me for asking.” She scrunches up her nose as Libby laughs harder.
“What’s going on?” Fawn asks, coming into the kitchen a second later.
She’s wearing her normal attire—a sweater and leggings with a pair of Toms on her feet. Her blonde, curly hair, currently tied up on top of her head, makes her seem pixielike. I swear she’s glowing. She looks happy, really happy. I know it has to do with the man she’s been dating for a few weeks. Levi, her neighbor—a hot cop who moved in next door to her weeks ago. A hot cop who looks at my sister like she was put on the earth just for him.
God, why does that make me jealous?
“What is it?” Fawn repeats, looking at Libby, who’s still laughing like a crazy woman.
“I suggested that your sister go over and introduce herself to Brent. He just moved into the Manors’ old place.”
“Oh . . . ?” Fawn says, looking at me.
She’s clearly confused, not understanding why that would make Libby laugh like a hyena.
“Mac said she’s not interested, so Mom asked her if she was a lesbian!” Libby fills in the blanks through her laughter.
I shoot daggers at her.
“Ohhh.” Fawn’s lips twitch into a smile before she starts laughing, too. She covers her mouth as she does.
“You would think it’s funny—because it’s not you!” I mutter, annoyed with all of them.
My mom’s statement doesn’t surprise me. She’s crazy. And dead set on getting us girls married off so she can get to the grandkids.
Good luck with that.
“I know Fawn’s not a lesbian. She’s sleeping with Levi,” Mom states matter-of-factly. Fawn’s eyes get big. “How is he in bed, honey?”
“Mom!” Fawn hisses as her face turns bright red.
“Yeah, how is he in bed?” Libby asks, sitting forward expectantly.
“I’m not talking to you guys about my sex life . . . ever,” Fawn states.
I laugh, earning a glare from her before she walks over to the fridge, opens it up, and grabs a soda.
“My girls are all so hush-hush! Sheesh, can’t a mom know that her girls are happy anymore?” Mom gripes.
I roll my eyes at Fawn. She does the same in return.
“When I have a sex life, I will talk to you about it, Mom,” Libby says.
Mom smiles at her. How my baby sister remains so innocent always surprises me. She is the kind of girl most of the men I know fantasize about—tall, thin, with dark hair and crystal-blue eyes that always look mysterious.
“That’s why you’re my favorite.” Mom reaches across the counter and pats her cheek.
“I know,” Libby agrees.
I fight the urge to laugh. My mom does this to us all the time, claiming that one is her favorite if it suits her—when I know for a fact that she loves us all equally.
“Is Levi home?” I ask Fawn when she takes a seat on the stool next to Libby.
As soon as I ask about him, I see her face soften.
God, she’s in love.
I don’t even think she knows it, but she is totally crazy about him. It’s written all over her pretty face.
“Yeah. He’s going to be home alone for the holiday since he’s on call.”
“That sucks,” Libby states.
I nod in agreement. It does suck that he’ll have to be alone tomorrow, especially when his family lives in Connecticut and Fawn will be here with us. I can’t imagine having to be alone during the holidays.
“You should go back and spend Thanksgiving with him,” Mom says, surprising all of us with the suggestion.
“I . . .” Fawn opens her mouth, then closes it.
“I don’t like the idea of him spending the day alone,” Mom continues before Fawn can say more. “I’m sure he’d enjoy having your company.”
“You and Dad wouldn’t be upset about me leaving to go spend Thanksgiving with my new boyfriend?”
“No,” Mom says.
Fawn smiles for a second, then frowns at her.
“Are you sure?”
“Honey, I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t.”
“I’ll think about it,” Fawn says.
I can see in her eyes that she’s already made up her mind. She’ll be back in Manhattan before the night is over. Not that I can blame her. If I had a man, I would want to be with him, too. At that thought, Wesley flashes through my mind. I hold my cup of coffee tighter.
I doubt I will ever see him again. That’s for the best. Right?
As we load into my parents’ car the next morning, I think for the hundredth time that this is a really bad idea. Fawn did go back to Manhattan to be with Levi, which I knew she would do. What I didn’t expect was having my mom come into my old room to wake me up and tell me that I needed to get up and get ready. Her plan is to make us all head into the city to surprise Fawn and Levi with Thanksgiving dinner. I tried to tell both my parents we shouldn’t, but neither of them will listen to me.
“How mad do you think Fawn will be?” Libby asks as she gets into the backseat with me and buckles in.
“I’m not sure.”
I look over my shoulder, out the back window at the two cars parked behind us. My aunts, uncles, and cousins are all piling into their own cars so they can follow us. “I doubt she’s going to be mad, but I bet she and Levi will be shocked to see so many people at their front door before it’s even nine in the morning.”
Once I get some incense burning, I take off my coat. I drape it over the back of my chair, then take a seat at my desk. I rest my forehead on the cool wood as tears fill my eyes again. I shouldn’t care as much as I do that things with Wesley ended the way they did, but that does nothing to stop the stabbing pain I feel in my chest.
It takes longer than I’m comfortable with to get myself under control, but after a few deep breaths, I sit up and pull his number out of my pocket. I try to memorize it before opening the top drawer in my desk and dropping it in, hoping I will never have to use it. I dig my cell phone out of my pocket and plug it in to charge, then head for the bathroom to clean up.
I have a few clients coming in today, so I figure that will help keep my mind busy until I leave the office. Then I’ll head out to visit my parents and sisters on Long Island for the Thanksgiving holiday. I’m now looking forward to going—they will be the distraction I so desperately need.
Standing in my parents’ kitchen the next morning, I lean against the counter with a cup of coffee in my hand, listening to my mom blabber on about the new neighbor who moved in a couple of houses down. Mom’s working on the pies for Thanksgiving tomorrow.
“He’s single. Maybe you could go over and introduce yourself to him,” she suggests, looking at me expectantly.
I hear Libby giggle from her perch on one of the stools at the island in front of us. She would think it’s funny that our mom is trying to hook me up with a fifty-year-old man she knows nothing about. It’s not happening to her.
“I’m not interested in dating anyone right now, Mom,” I mutter.
I take a sip of coffee.
“Are you a lesbian?”
I almost spit it out but instead suck it down the wrong pipe and choke on it. “What?” I cough, wipe away the coffee dribbling from my bottom lip, and grab a paper towel so I can wipe the rest off my hand and shirt.
“You haven’t been on a date in forever. I never hear you talk about any men that you are interested in. I’m just wondering if maybe you’re—”
“I’m not.” I cut off her next words. “God, Mom. Seriously?” I throw my free hand up in the air before dropping it back down to my side. “I don’t want to date, so I’m automatically a lesbian?”
“Well, there is nothing wrong with it if you are. You can’t blame me for asking.” She scrunches up her nose as Libby laughs harder.
“What’s going on?” Fawn asks, coming into the kitchen a second later.
She’s wearing her normal attire—a sweater and leggings with a pair of Toms on her feet. Her blonde, curly hair, currently tied up on top of her head, makes her seem pixielike. I swear she’s glowing. She looks happy, really happy. I know it has to do with the man she’s been dating for a few weeks. Levi, her neighbor—a hot cop who moved in next door to her weeks ago. A hot cop who looks at my sister like she was put on the earth just for him.
God, why does that make me jealous?
“What is it?” Fawn repeats, looking at Libby, who’s still laughing like a crazy woman.
“I suggested that your sister go over and introduce herself to Brent. He just moved into the Manors’ old place.”
“Oh . . . ?” Fawn says, looking at me.
She’s clearly confused, not understanding why that would make Libby laugh like a hyena.
“Mac said she’s not interested, so Mom asked her if she was a lesbian!” Libby fills in the blanks through her laughter.
I shoot daggers at her.
“Ohhh.” Fawn’s lips twitch into a smile before she starts laughing, too. She covers her mouth as she does.
“You would think it’s funny—because it’s not you!” I mutter, annoyed with all of them.
My mom’s statement doesn’t surprise me. She’s crazy. And dead set on getting us girls married off so she can get to the grandkids.
Good luck with that.
“I know Fawn’s not a lesbian. She’s sleeping with Levi,” Mom states matter-of-factly. Fawn’s eyes get big. “How is he in bed, honey?”
“Mom!” Fawn hisses as her face turns bright red.
“Yeah, how is he in bed?” Libby asks, sitting forward expectantly.
“I’m not talking to you guys about my sex life . . . ever,” Fawn states.
I laugh, earning a glare from her before she walks over to the fridge, opens it up, and grabs a soda.
“My girls are all so hush-hush! Sheesh, can’t a mom know that her girls are happy anymore?” Mom gripes.
I roll my eyes at Fawn. She does the same in return.
“When I have a sex life, I will talk to you about it, Mom,” Libby says.
Mom smiles at her. How my baby sister remains so innocent always surprises me. She is the kind of girl most of the men I know fantasize about—tall, thin, with dark hair and crystal-blue eyes that always look mysterious.
“That’s why you’re my favorite.” Mom reaches across the counter and pats her cheek.
“I know,” Libby agrees.
I fight the urge to laugh. My mom does this to us all the time, claiming that one is her favorite if it suits her—when I know for a fact that she loves us all equally.
“Is Levi home?” I ask Fawn when she takes a seat on the stool next to Libby.
As soon as I ask about him, I see her face soften.
God, she’s in love.
I don’t even think she knows it, but she is totally crazy about him. It’s written all over her pretty face.
“Yeah. He’s going to be home alone for the holiday since he’s on call.”
“That sucks,” Libby states.
I nod in agreement. It does suck that he’ll have to be alone tomorrow, especially when his family lives in Connecticut and Fawn will be here with us. I can’t imagine having to be alone during the holidays.
“You should go back and spend Thanksgiving with him,” Mom says, surprising all of us with the suggestion.
“I . . .” Fawn opens her mouth, then closes it.
“I don’t like the idea of him spending the day alone,” Mom continues before Fawn can say more. “I’m sure he’d enjoy having your company.”
“You and Dad wouldn’t be upset about me leaving to go spend Thanksgiving with my new boyfriend?”
“No,” Mom says.
Fawn smiles for a second, then frowns at her.
“Are you sure?”
“Honey, I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t.”
“I’ll think about it,” Fawn says.
I can see in her eyes that she’s already made up her mind. She’ll be back in Manhattan before the night is over. Not that I can blame her. If I had a man, I would want to be with him, too. At that thought, Wesley flashes through my mind. I hold my cup of coffee tighter.
I doubt I will ever see him again. That’s for the best. Right?
As we load into my parents’ car the next morning, I think for the hundredth time that this is a really bad idea. Fawn did go back to Manhattan to be with Levi, which I knew she would do. What I didn’t expect was having my mom come into my old room to wake me up and tell me that I needed to get up and get ready. Her plan is to make us all head into the city to surprise Fawn and Levi with Thanksgiving dinner. I tried to tell both my parents we shouldn’t, but neither of them will listen to me.
“How mad do you think Fawn will be?” Libby asks as she gets into the backseat with me and buckles in.
“I’m not sure.”
I look over my shoulder, out the back window at the two cars parked behind us. My aunts, uncles, and cousins are all piling into their own cars so they can follow us. “I doubt she’s going to be mad, but I bet she and Levi will be shocked to see so many people at their front door before it’s even nine in the morning.”
