Intoxicated (12 page)

“It’s okay, sweetie; don’t be embarrassed.
You shouldn’t have been alone last night, and since I wasn’t here,
my brother’s the next best thing. I’m glad that he stayed with you
until I got home.”

I had a feeling I knew exactly when that was,
but I felt the need to confirm. “How late was he here?”

“He took off about three thirty this morning.
You were both asleep when I got here. We talked for a little while
and then he carried you up to bed.”

I nodded. Exactly how I had pictured it.

“Did you guys talk about other things,
too?”

“No. We didn’t really say much. I wasn’t
feeling much like talking, but I know we need to.”

“Agreed. I’d hate to see him push you away
because of everything that’s gone on in your pasts. I think the two
of you could have a great friendship. You seemed pretty cozy with
each other last night.”

I could only imagine. Blake didn’t see upset
by the fact that I had fallen asleep on top of her brother, wrapped
in his embrace. I sincerely doubted that he had moved out from
under me once I had drifted off.

“I brought it up the night that you told me
everything, but we never finished the conversation.”

“Really?” Blake shifted on the cushion,
settling in for a good story.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“We are close, but we don’t share absolutely
everything. And, no, he didn’t.”

“I texted him. I was worried about him; the
way he stormed out of here. I told him that we needed to talk about
things, that I knew what happened. And then Eric called and
interrupted. Matthew never answered me. Last night was the first I
saw or heard from him since. My hysteric sobbing probably clued him
in to the fact it wasn’t an appropriate time to discuss.”

“Well, you should sooner rather than
later.”

“I know. Especially since I accidentally told
Eric all about it that night.”

I thought Blake’s eyes would pop out of her
head. “You what?”

“When Eric called, I thought he was Matthew
because we were in the middle of texting. I didn’t look before I
answered. I blurted everything out. I feel really guilty about
it.”

Blake shrugged. “Probably not the best
technique, but he would have found out about it anyway. Eric seems
pretty smart. He could just look everything up on the internet.
It’s all out there.”

“Still, I should have been more careful. I
didn’t need to add any fuel to the fire. I’m surprised Eric didn’t
drive up here immediately and pack all my stuff himself.”

“It pisses him off, right?” She smiled
evilly.

“He told me I need to be careful.”

“Good advice for any situation. But I hardly
think you need to fear my brother.”

“He was anything but scary last night,” I
said under my breath.

Blake heard my comment. “Lauren, are you
attracted to my brother?”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“Not what I asked.”

“What you asked is irrelevant because I have
a boyfriend.”

“Hah. I knew it.”

“Blake,” I nearly whined, “I have Eric. Just
because I admit that your brother is cute doesn’t mean that
anything will ever happen between us. I hope we can be friends;
that’s all. That’s all that ever will be.”

There was no way I was going to tell her
about this morning’s text. She would read way too much into that. I
was reading way too much into that. I wasn’t even sure why I hadn’t
deleted it yet. If and when Eric and I ever saw each other again,
if he read it, he would be beyond mad. I doubted that he would be
conniving enough to snoop through my phone, but I wasn’t entirely
sure.

I wasn’t entirely sure of anything
anymore.

Sure enough, another bouquet of roses was
delivered to my office Monday morning at a little after nine in the
morning. I saw the way the women stared at me in awe; I vowed that
I would not make this a weekly occurrence. Instead of working in
their shadow for the rest of the day, I promptly removed the card
from Eric, then transported them into the breakroom for everyone to
share. I might as well not waste them like the last bunch. At least
this way, someone might enjoy them.

It was time to end the silent treatment. I
was satisfied that I had made him suffer since the hang up on
Saturday evening, so I texted him thanks for the flowers. I didn’t
have to let him know where they ended up. Relieved, he responded
immediately, again professing his remorse. He also invited me down
for the weekend, promising that he was one hundred percent sure he
wouldn’t be working. I quickly accepted even though it meant two
hours in the car for me.

That was the way we operated; hot and cold,
passionate and chilly. This was my normal. The move had amplified
the tension tenfold, but the core of the relationship remained. I
knew Blake would shake her head at me. Probably Matthew at this
point, too, but they didn’t understand. Eric and I were going to
make this work, come hell or high water. I didn’t fail at
anything.

Another thing I wouldn’t fail at was merging
my two worlds together. Over the course of Sunday, with Blake’s
help, I tentatively began planning a Thanksgiving Day get together
in Fort Wayne. All I had to do was convince everyone to show up. My
dad would come, no questions asked. I would also invite Gracie,
though I wasn’t sure if she was already busy. If she couldn’t make
it, no harm, no foul. Eric would be the tough one to persuade. All
I had to do was just get him here. Once he could see that I had a
nice place to stay and good friends here, maybe he would be more at
peace with my decision.

Matthew was also a wild card. I knew I had to
smooth things over with him first, especially since he felt such
obvious guilt about my mother dying at the hands of another drunk
driver. Once that was accomplished and I had obtained his blessing,
I needed to focus on my dad. My plan was to talk to my father at
some point prior to the holiday and fill him in on everything.
Then, when the two of them met, Matthew might feel better about
himself as he came to the conclusion that my father wasn’t upset
with him over what he had done. Even though Eric expressed doubt
that this would be the case, he was historically pessimistic. I
couldn’t imagine my father hating Matthew for making a mistake in
his youth, even if it was an ironic one as far as we were
concerned.

Blake suggested that we hold the dinner at
Matthew’s house. This would serve two purposes: one, he would have
to show up, and two, his home was in her opinion better suited for
entertaining. Since I was the one who would be cooking, she
appealed to my senses by describing his gourmet kitchen with double
ovens. I practically salivated, then realized that such
appointments were lost on someone who lived a bachelor’s life. She
stated that he had a formal dining room in his house which
contained an impressive table that seated eight comfortably. I took
her word for it; she used to live there. She promised to take me
over there soon to get accustomed to the place. That way I wouldn’t
have to be nervous, trying to impress people in unfamiliar
surroundings. Instead, I would merely be nervous because I wanted
everyone to get along.

Together, we would bring this plan to
fruition. All I needed to do was set the stage, then cook a ton of
food. Blake would follow behind, wrapping up loose ends. With her
at my side, those loose ends would be tied up in a nice, neat
designer bow. Something fitting of a magazine spread.

Blake’s car was already in the garage when I
pulled in. I had stayed a little later than usual at work, wrapping
up some things after the rest of my staff had gone home. I was
finally getting a handle on my position and was learning my team’s
strengths and weaknesses. This week I planned on sitting down with
each of them one on one to discuss how they complemented one
another and how I planned to utilize them in the future. I hoped I
would receive an enthusiastic response. So far, so good. The group
all seemed to get along with each other, and they had accepted me
as well as could be expected.

Blake hadn’t been home for long, or else she
was just stalling so that she wouldn’t have to feel obliged to
begin the dinner preparations. The kitchen was empty, and I could
hear the shower running in her bedroom. Laughing to myself, I
turned on the oven and went to change while it preheated.

I returned to the still deserted kitchen and
gathered my ingredients. Tonight was homemade macaroni and cheese.
I had no clue if Matthew would be joining us tonight, so my course
of action was to make a batch large enough for the three of us. If
he didn’t make an appearance, I could throw the leftovers in a
plastic bowl and take it to work for lunch. I could pretend that I
planned it that way, and take care to hide my disappointment. Blake
would never be the wiser.

With each passing minute, my hope of seeing
Matthew today diminished. I had made it completely through the
process of getting the dish into the oven. Blake still hadn’t
appeared from her bedroom. I caught myself pacing the floor,
staring at the digital kitchen timer as the seconds ticked off. I
was practically beside myself by the time she strolled into the
kitchen.

She was not dressed for an evening in. The
sapphire blue dress she wore fit like it was made for her.
Strapless and floor length, it clung to her curves in the classiest
of ways. A deep slit revealed a shapely leg wearing a silver
strappy sandal with a stiletto heel. Her blond waves spilled over
her shoulders, the blue streak a striking contrast.

I stared at her quizzically, trying to
remember if she had mentioned a date tonight. I didn’t think so. In
any regard, it looked as though I would have plenty of food left
tonight. I wouldn’t need to buy lunch for a week.

“There’s a charity auction tonight,” she
explained without me asking, “I’ll be home late.”

“Okay,” I said, resigning myself to the fact
I would be dining alone.

“Don’t worry,” she said, placing her hand on
my shoulder, “he’s running late. He’ll be here. The two of you need
to talk anyway.”

With that, she exited through the door to the
garage. I heard the Miata start and the garage door close behind
her as she left. Shortly after, the oven timer signaled that the
food was ready. Grabbing an oven mitt and a cooling rack, I took
the dish out of the oven and set it on the counter.

So according to Blake he was coming. I still
only removed one plate from the cabinet, thinking that pulling
another place setting out would look too presumptuous. After all he
had yet to show, and provided he did, he knew where all the dishes
were. I spooned myself out a generous helping of macaroni and sat
down at the breakfast bar to contemplate things. My fork shook in
my hand as I lifted it to take a bite.

I managed to get about half of my macaroni
down before I heard the now familiar rumble of the Mustang’s
engine. It was all I could do not to spring from my seat and run to
the door. Instead, I remained glued to my stool. As the key turned
in the lock, I lifted my fork and kept eating as calmly as I
possibly could.

Matthew made a beeline for the kitchen. I did
have to admit that the smells wafting through the house were quite
inviting. There would be no doubt that dinner had been already
served.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted, smiling broadly
as he passed.

“Hey, yourself,” I replied, hoping my voice
sounded casual.

He pulled open the cabinet door and grabbed
himself a plate. Just like I assumed, he knew where absolutely
everything was. I watched him as he served himself, piling a
sizable portion onto his plate. He grabbed a bottle of water out of
the refrigerator and sat down beside me. Due to the positioning of
the bar stools, our knees were dangerously close to touching. He
didn’t seem to notice, and I was having a hard time remembering why
I cared.

“Good day at work?” he asked between
bites.

“I guess so.”

“No apology flowers from the boyfriend?”

“I put them in the breakroom at work.”

He laughed, which was a beautiful sound.
“Roses again?”

“Of course.”

He finished eating, then stood to take his
plate to the dishwasher. As he rose, his knee brushed mine ever so
slightly. I shivered noticeably at the contact. As he walked by me,
he collected my empty plate as well. The irony of the situation was
not lost on me. We were the ones playing house as we casually
discussed how my boyfriend had tried to appease for his
actions.

“Did you know about Blake’s dinner thing
tonight?” he asked as he rinsed off the dishes.

“No. Not at all. You think she’s making it
up?”

“I’m not sure. Doesn’t it seem a little
convenient?”

“If so, she went to some pretty elaborate
lengths to set us up. She walked out of here dressed like a million
bucks. It would be pretty hard to go kill some time at the mall in
that outfit. Or those shoes.”

Another laugh. “When my sister gets an idea
in her head, nothing can stop her.”

“Well, then, shouldn’t we honor her
wishes?”

A small smile formed on his face. He quickly
loaded the dishwasher and followed me to the living room. We sat
together on the couch, side by side, nearly touching. Once again I
was reminded of how good soap could smell. The proximity to one
another was encouraging. Perhaps I could convince him that I wasn’t
upset with him and talk him into Thanksgiving dinner all at
once.

“So, you’ve forgiven him?”

If that wasn’t a leading question, I didn’t
know what was. Maybe this wouldn’t be easy after all. I sighed
deeply, stalling as I tried to gauge his tone. I had to tell him
the truth. There was no sense in lying since he would surely notice
my absence this weekend.