Voyeur Extraordinaire (18 page)

I didn’t say anything.

“You don’t want to talk to him, right?”

“He loves you Leon. He won’t shout at you for being the bearer of bad news, but he’ll definitely shout at me. I just don’t want to deal with that right now.”

All playfulness disappeared from Leon’s tone. “Is everything okay?”

Great, so much for leaving the past behind. I couldn’t even pretend I was fine over the phone. I hoped my mother wouldn’t pick up on my bleak mood. She was like a bloodhound when she thought I was keeping a secret from her. “I’m fine. I just need a break from the bar and New York.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“You. Born and bred in Brooklyn, you’re practically in a symbiotic relationship with New York.”

“True.”

“So will you tell Jack?”

“Of course. But you owe me.” Was he actually flirting with me? Why did he have to decide to do it after Adrian screwed me over?

“Okay. And thank you.”

I could hear Mona shouti
ng something in the background.

“I need to go. Have fun,” Leon said quickly, then hung up.

I stared down at my phone for a moment. Maybe I’d imagined Leon’s flirty tone. I wasn’t used to subtlety when it came to flirting. Customers in the bar were always very plain about what they wanted to do with me, and Adrian hadn’t really beaten about the bush either. Speaking of bush. That was the first thing I was going to reclaim. I didn’t have anyone to impress anymore so bye bye Depiladoras and torturous sugar waxing. Take that, Adrian.

I walked toward my bed and my eyes immediately flew to the window and the binoculars lying discarded on the windowsill. I felt unreasonable anger toward them. If I’d never started spying on Adrian, everything would have been fine. A thought struck me and I took a step back. My curtains weren’t drawn and I was far from the window, but what if Adrian was watching
me?

I
immediately felt stupid for thinking Adrian would bother watching my window.
Oh please, as if Adrian is even still thinking about you
, a nasty voice snarled in my head.
He’s probably forgotten your name already. He’s probably already hunting for the next panties to get into.

I hurried into the bathroom and closed the folding door behind me. I couldn’t wait to leave my apartment for a few days. I needed a break. I shed my clothes before I stepped into the small shower cabin. The soreness between my legs was almost completely gone by now. Maybe it should have lasted longer. It would have been the perfect punishment for my stupidity.

I turned the water on and let it pour down my body, hot and calming. Every shower in the previous weeks had included fantasies of Adrian, of how it would be to take a shower with him, to run my hands over his chest…But that would never happen now.
I don’t do virgins.
The words wouldn’t stop popping into my head and they were always accompanied by Adrian’s face as he said them. I think his disgusted face had burnt itself into my brain. Only thinking about it mortified me to no end. I'd been such a mess last night. Crying and throwing up…I don’t know how I’d have handled things without Amy's help. I shook my head.

I had to try to see the good in what happened: People learn from their mistakes, so I would never fall for an asshole again. And I could probably use the
whole thing in a book someday.

I snorted. I grabbed the soft sponge and ran it over my body, trying to relax. I'd almost managed when I brushed between my legs. Adrian’s fingers had felt so good as he’d stroked me there. Why did he have to fuck up so majorly?

I swore quietly under my breath and dropped the sponge before turning off the water. Maybe I should try to slip in the shower and hit my head on the tiles. People got amnesia like that, right?

I’d probably just start lusting for Adrian again if I forgot what had happened. I deserved to live with the memories of my mortification. Stupidity deserved punishment. I'd known about Adrian's
manwhorish-ways, had watched him bang more than one woman through my binoculars, and yet I'd foolishly thought he'd be different with me.

I got out of the shower cabin, drying myself off with a not so soft towel. For a brief moment, I could feel the warning heat of tears behind my eyes, but I willed them away.
Never again. I glared at my reflection when I passed the mirror. It took me ten minutes until I was dressed in jeans and a sweater, and had packed a bag for my trip to my parents. I needed to leave as soon as possible. I would return, but right now I needed some space. If I met Adrian in the parking lot by chance, I wouldn't be able to pull myself together, and I didn't want to cry in front of him, or end up strangling him. I put Bruno on his leash and grabbed my bag before leaving my apartment and locking the door behind me.

I decided not to call my parents and surprise them with my visit instead. Maybe I could even startle my mother into silence. She always asked too many questions, and yet I was looking forward to seeing her and Dad again, especially Dad. He would never say so, but I knew he missed me a lot, more than Mom. I decided to rent a car instead of going by public transportation, which was a pain in the ass because Har
rington was difficult to reach.

***

It took me a little over three hours to reach my home town. It was shortly after four in the afternoon when I pulled up in front of the house. Two stories, white porch and flower beds with yellow and lilac flowers. To my surprise Dad's Toyota was parked in the driveway. I would have expected him to still be at work in his vet practice, but maybe he’d decided to take afternoons off after I moved out. Maybe he was worried that my mother would die of boredom without me there to fight with.

I grabbed Bruno and set him down on the sidewalk, then grabbed my bag and got out of my car. Barking sounded from inside the house. Of course, Brownie and Donut would hear me before I even got close to the front door. Bruno yanked on his leash, desperate to get going. The door of the house swung open and Dad stood on the porch, looking at me in surprise. He was still in his black ‘work’
Crogs, so he couldn't have been home for long. Bruno tore even harder, and I let go of his leash. He stormed over to Dad, wagging his stubby tail excitedly. Brownie and Donut dashed out of the house, whirling around Bruno, then advancing on me. They were both black and white Bearded Collies and had more energy than a buttload of caffeine and Red Bull could ever give me. They jumped at me and it was all I could do not to fall over. I dropped my bag and patted them. Dad let out a whistle and Brownie and Donut stopped their assault of me and trotted back to him.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said with a laugh. I picked up my bag, but Dad came toward me, hugged me and then took it from me.
Dad’s hair was almost entirely gray now but it was still full, not a bald spot in sight. I’d inherited my thick brown hair from him. “We didn’t expect you home this weekend. Don’t you have to work?” Bruno, Brownie and Donut disappeared into the house. “No, not in the next few days.” It wasn’t a lie, after all.

There was a hint of worry in his blue eyes. “Wond
erful. We’re glad you’re home.”

I’d forgotten how annoying it was that Dad always talked for him and Mom when she wasn’t even around. They were just like Amy and Jared.
The forever and ever kind of love of soulmates. Couldn’t their luck have rubbed off on me?

“Where’s Mom?”

“In the kitchen, baking her famous Apple pie.”

We walked into the house. Barking was coming from the kitchen, then Mom’s voice. “You need to share with each other. Here another bite for you.”

I followed the noise into the kitchen with its white fronts and dark wooden counters. Mom was busy feeding Bruno a strip of bacon. Brownie and Donut were still chewing on theirs, but already eying the plate loaded with more bacon on the table.

“That’s not good for dogs, you know?” I said as a way of greeting. “Too much fat and salt.”

“Oh shush, I never see Bruno anymore. Let me spoil him when he’s here.” Of course that was her subtle way of telling me that I should visit more often, or better yet move back to Harrington. She finally turned her attention away from the dogs, wiped her greasy hands on a kitchen towel and then opened her arms wide. I hugged her, then pulled back.

“Has anything happened?” she asked, her forehead creased in worry as she studied my expression. The dogs were alternating between watching her back and the plate of bacon.

I shook my head. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Because you show up here without us nagging you about it. It’s just odd.”

“I missed you and Dad. That’s all.”

Mom looked doubtful. She still had hardly any wrinkles, only a few lines around the eyes. I hoped I would look this good when I was fifty. Her blond hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and beneath her apron she was wearing a
flowery dress. “Are you sure?”

I would never tell Mom about Adrian. It was too embarrassing. Mom would probably say that it was my fault for moving to a city like New York. There were no decent men there. Sometimes I thought she was right.

And I didn't want Dad to go to jail for breaking a few bones in Adrian’s body, or at least try to break them. If Jared was right and Adrian knew how to fight, then Dad was doomed. He wasn’t exactly the warrior type. More a care bear.

I giggled, and now Mom looked even more concerned.

“I'm fine, Mom, honestly. I just wanted to spend some time at home and with you.”

She gave me a look that said she knew I wasn't telling the entire truth, but she didn't say anything. Dad appeared in the doorway, smiling. “I took your bag up to your room.” His eyes flitted between
me and mom, probably worried we were fighting. Bruno was still sniffing the floor excitedly, searching for more bacon. “You really shouldn’t give him human food,” I said to change the topic.

“Who else is going to eat it then? You’re still a vegetarian, right?”

She always said the word vegetarian as if it was something offensive. “Yes, Mom.” I considered lying that I was a vegan just to make her freak out completely, but deciding that I wasn’t a teen who lived for riling up her parents anymore, I refrained. “Dad can eat it.”

Dad was, after all, eying the bacon with almost as much longing as the d
ogs.

“Your dad’s on a diet. His cholesterol was over the roof.”

Dad shrugged, looking sheepish. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You’re not eating the bacon,” Mom said, jabbing a finger in his direction.

“What about the cake?” I nodded toward the apple pie sitting in the open oven. “I’d take a piece of that.”

“That’s fo
r the party tonight,” Mom said.

Dad’s eyes lit up. “You can come. Maybe you’ll meet old
friends.” Mom gave him a look.

What friends? Most of them had gone to college all over the country and the rest…well, that was something I really didn’t want to think about. I raised my eyebrows. “Party?”

Mom fiddled with her apron, then threw the dogs a few more bites of bacon. “Yes, Frank and Liz are celebrating their 30
th
anniversary.”

I froze. “You mean the Millers?”

Dad’s and Mom’s eyes met, then she shrugged. “Of course. You should really come.” She paused. “I’m sure Rachel will be happy to see you.”

Rachel and I hadn’t talked since senior year, since our huge fallou
t two months before graduation.

I forced a smile. “I doubt it. We haven’t been friends in a while.”

“Such a shame. You two were inseparable since kindergarten. I still don’t understand--”

“Mom,” I said in warning. “Not this again.”

Dad wrapped an arm around my and then Mom’s shoulder. “Let’s not argue.” He kissed Mom’s temple. “And I think you should come to the party. It’s your chance to see half of town again.”

Dad knew that I had more trouble refusing him than Mom. “Okay, but I can’t promise that I’ll enjoy it.”

“Perfect,” Dad said, then dropped his arms off our shoulders, snatched the last piece of bacon from the plate and pushed it into his mouth before Mom could react. She shook her head, fighting a smile. “That means no apple pie for you tonight.”

“We’ll see.” Any moment they’d start making out. How could they still be
in love after such a long time?

“So when does the party start?” I asked quickly.

“At seven.”

I chanced a look at the clock on the wall. It was almost five by now and it would take a bit to get ready for a party. “I assume I sho
uld wear a dress?”

“There’s no dress code,” Mom said, then eyed my sweater and jean
s. “But a dress would be good.”

I wished Amy were here to dress up and for moral support. Rachel would be at the party, and so would Ben, the reason why Rachel and I had stopped talking. I needed to look good. “I'll find something appropriate,” I said to Mom, th
en turned and left the kitchen.

I took the steps two at a time and stepped into my old room. It still looked exactly as I’d left it three years ago. There were even still the empty spots on the wall where photos of Rachel and me had hung before I’d removed them. Bruno trotted after me into my bedroom and jumped on my bed.