Leaving Normal (31 page)

"I do. My treat."

She rearranged her clothing, got her coat and hat, and the two of them left the dorm building.

Chicago Cany out was at Harrison Street and Wabash Avenue, and the cafe was always packed with students.

"Did you ask your mom about Easter?" Cassie asked while reading the signboard menu as they waited their turn in the sandwich line.

"I forgot."

Disappointment hit her. "I thought you were going to ask her when you talked to her yesterday."

"I told you, I forgot. I'll ask her. I'm sure she's cool with you coming home for Easter with me."

"I need to know so I can tell my parents. My mom's already bought me a ticket for Boise. I can change it, but I think I should let her know soon."

Austin moved up in the line. "Can you change it to Minneapolis?"

"I think so, if the airline flies there. That's why you have to ask your mom as soon as you can. I can't keep letting my mom think I'm coming home if I'm not."

A part of Cassie regretted ditching a family get-together, but how often did she have the opportunity to go to her boyfriend's house for Easter? Never. She'd always been with her parents. She was eighteen. It was her turn to choose where she wanted to go. She just really needed to let her mother know as soon as possible.

Cassie was a planner, like her mom. And Austin's inability to remind himself to ask his mom bothered her. She wished he could be more on top of things.

"What do you want?" Austin asked, glancing toward . her, then at the pretty cashier. "Hey," he said to the girl, giving her a grin.

Cassie held off the stab of jealousy that pricked her. He was always doing this. He was a hopeless flirt, and in front of her, too.

"Hi," the clerk replied, her lip gloss shiny and sexy. "I know you. We have the same poetry workshop class."

"Oh, yeah. I've seen you. What's your name?"

But the clerk didn't have to reply. Austin stared at her name badge that just happened to be right over her breast.

"Candi," he said with a smile. "You'll have to say hi to me."

"Okay." She giggled and Cassie wanted to smack her. She encircled her hand around Austin's upper arm, keeping him close.

They placed their orders, Cassie suddenly not so hungry for a turkey sandwich anymore.

"Do you want this for here or to go?" the clerk asked, looking only at Austin and not her.

"For here," Austin replied.

"To go," Cassie said, gazing into Austin's eyes. "I want to go back to my dorm room and we can be alone."

He shrugged and she paid for their lunch.

While they waited for the sandwiches to be made, Cassie grew quiet and thoughtful. There were times when she wasn't sure about Austin, if he was really the right person for her. Other times, she was very lonely at school and she was so glad to have him in her life.

Her mood grew sullen.

Outside, the weather was bleak like a water-faded, old newspaper. It was windy, too. That wind always had so much bite to it, it could take a person's ears off if they didn't cover them. While Idaho winters weren't that great, Chicago winters were the worst. The streets were always littered with sheets of paper and debris that spilled from office doorways and then were sucked onto the streets. Chaos.

Chaos
. A good word. She'd write that in her journal tonight.

Her first year in college felt like chaos at times.

"Austin," she said, snuggling next to him and feeling those butterfly feelings stir in her stomach. "Do you love me?"

"Of course. I tell you, don't I?"

"Yes…but I mean it—do you
really
love me?"

"I do. I mean it, Cassie. 1 love you."

Relief poured through her body, her hands and legs and toes. She needed to hear that, needed the reassurance that he was only interested in her.

"I love you, too," she said, but questioned just how deeply. How real. She had nothing to compare it to.

Austin Mably was her first big crush.

Sex Bed

Tony had never been to the Boise Art Museum. Just hadn't been on his list of places he felt like visiting. It wasn't what he expected. A little more urban, maybe.

The floors were colored and lacquered concrete, a small gift shop was to the right of the main entry. Exhibition rooms veered left and right, all full of art.

The exhibit was flowers in still life by various artists.

"This one is great," Natalie said, walking several feet ahead of him. She kept her tone lowered at a respectful volume. He felt as if he were in a library or the Catholic church during mass.

"I like the pastel color palette," she commented while studying the large painting. "And I like the arrangement. It's not symmetrical. I have to try and not do that so much."

"Why?"

"Because abstract can be better."

He was truly clueless. "Why?"

"Just because it tricks the eye. You don't want everything to be just right, so perfect."

He shrugged, moved along and viewed the other paintings. The side room wasn't lit real well, the walls making him feel closed in. He said he'd come to this, to see a piece of her "world," but an art museum wasn't his thing. While it didn't turn his crank, he respected Natalie enough not to tell her that this place went unappreciated on a guy like him. Give him a beer and a crowd; he preferred loud sporting events or anything outdoors.

"That one's nice," he said, just to say something positive.

A sunflower painting was illuminated by a light beaming above it. There were some nice strokes of paint on the canvas, the yellow and gold colors bright. Other than that, it was just a vase of sunflowers.

"I like it, too." She gave it her attention.

He gave her his attention.

She wore jeans and a thick sweater, and a coat that was unbuttoned. He liked her when she was carefree. That was one good thing to say about the art museum. Natalie Goodwin felt comfortable here. She walked with a casualness, an ease he didn't normally see in her. The art exhibit brought out her smile, sometimes laughter or thoughtful words.

She was enjoying herself.

He appreciated that.

They'd agreed not to decide anything about their re- . lationship and just continue as friends who did things together. It was an easy compromise for him to do—if one called it a compromise. He'd already made up his mind he was only going to date women who had the potential to be his best friend. Kim had never been that for him. He'd never been able to really go to her with things that were deep issues for him. He vowed never to have that isolated feeling again.

They wandered the rest of the halls, walking into a large room with a sculpture of metal. He couldn't see the attraction to it, but she stood and studied it for a long while.

He studied her.

She'd pulled her hair back in a claw, pieces falling along her cheeks and neck. Diamond stud earrings sparkled from her earlobes. When she'd turn her head, they'd catch the light. Her eyes seemed greener, her lips were pinker, fuller.

He recalled sleeping next to her on his sofa. They'd woken up in the early hours of morning when the newspaper hit the front door around 4:00 a.m. He knew right away who he was with, where he was. His sleep had been surprisingly deep and sound. He woke with a clarity about his senses and was glad to have this woman in his arms. She smelled great, too, was so soft and warm.

He'd felt himself need her, want her. His body stirred slowly, like a drug that came to the surface of his senses. There were things about her that made him desire more than a casual friendship. Her independence and strength, the way she smiled and looked at him.

When he was being a realist, he was aware that she wanted different things at her age and was at a different place. But boundaries were like firebreaks. Sometimes a spark leaped over them and started a fire. Issues that seemed to be hurdles could look differently suddenly. Sometimes seeing too much wasn't the best way to deal with something. Sometimes going by feel, relying on a sense of touch, was better. It was how he was trained. Love didn't come with instructions.

When they'd finished looking at the exhibit, she buttoned her coat. "Do you want to get something to eat?"

"I was hungry an hour ago," he said before he could stop himself.

"You didn't like the show?"

He held the door open for her. "It wasn't that I didn't like it, it's just not something that I would do on my own."

She smiled at him. "And I wouldn't have gone to a hockey game on my own."

"So we're even."

"But I liked the hockey game. You didn't enjoy this."

"I didn't say I didn't like it." They walked through the barren rose garden to the parking lot. "I just didn't find the same appeal in it as you did. I thought some of the paintings were really good."

"They were."

"So there you go."

He unlocked the Ram and opened the door. She got up inside, and he still liked how she did that. She put a hand on the grip and pulled her body up to climb in. He got a nice view of her behind.

Closing the door, he went around to the driver's side. Once behind the wheel, he asked, "Where do you want to eat?"

"Anywhere. I'm starved."

"Cobby's?"

"Perfect."

He took the side streets from downtown to Chinden and they didn't have to drive far to the landmark sandwich shop. Once inside they ordered, then got a table. He ate, thinking it felt really comfortable to sit here with her.

She asked, "What will you do at work tomorrow?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean—like, if there's no call to go on. Do you watch daytime TV?"

"I only do that when I'm at home doing laundry," he laughed. "I was a former
Days of Our Lives
watcher. Don't tell anyone."

A smile curved the corners of her mouth. "Okay."

He swallowed a bite of sandwich, wiped his hands on a paper napkin and said, "I get there a little early, talk to the guy I'm relieving. I ask how the day before went. I'll wash the engine, make more coffee if the pot's empty. I don't drink a lot of coffee, though."

"Why not?"

"Just don't need it."

"Do you have a hard time getting up?"

"Snooze button, babe."

She laughed, then her expression grew more serious. "You woke up just fine the other morning."

"Because I wasn't alone."

She gazed down at the sandwich paper, then at him, a hesitant smile touching her mouth. He would have liked to know what she was thinking in that head of hers. Probably too much. She worked too hard to analyze things. She didn't do herself any favors.

"I liked having you sleep next to me."

She said nothing, and he sensed there was more on her mind than she let on. He'd had that feeling for the last thirty minutes, even though she'd tried hard not to show her preoccupation.

"I liked it," he reiterated. "I like having you around. I like kissing you even more."

He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the mouth. Her lips were soft and sexy; they moved beneath his as he traced hers with the tip of his tongue, a light and easy stroke. He felt her shiver when he pulled back.

She licked her lips, said nothing.