Chapter 6 Ben #2
One side of her mouth was pulled up in a lopsided grin as she watched her dog. My gaze rose from her mouth to trace the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. In this light, her eyes were crystalline blue.
Damn, she was beautiful.
It was obvious the first time we met, even though she was frazzled and still a little sweaty from sledding. Now, with the red blotches gone from her skin and her – definitely not orange – hair worn loose in long, cascading waves, it was impossible to ignore just how beautiful.
“Want to see the rest of the house?” I asked her.
Her eyes lit up. “Of course.”
I took her through the first floor, explaining the work I’d done so far and what I planned for each space once it was finished.
Right now, the house was pretty barren of décor, and it took some imagination to envision what I described.
I brought my tablet with us, pulling up images of the furniture I planned to buy, the rugs I wanted to spread over some of the floors in the higher traffic areas, and so on.
Being an artist, Ella had no trouble keeping up.
She looked back and forth from the tablet to the rooms around us as I talked, nodding along as if she could see the picture I painted for her with my words.
Every now and then, she offered input. Maybe place the chairs here, instead of there, in the sitting room, to maximize the view out of the rear windows, or add a large mirror to the windowless wall in the dining room to give the illusion that the space was bigger, while also bringing in more light from the reflection of the southern facing windows on the perpendicular wall.
Every suggestion was insightful and logical, and I’d be an idiot not to implement all of them in the final design.
The dogs followed us through the house, attempting to sniff each new thing they came across.
Ella called them to heel whenever she thought they were getting too nosy or rowdy, or to keep them from straying when we entered a room with gaps in the drywall.
They instantly snapped to her side when she did.
I opened the basement door toward the end of the tour. Fred and Sam peered into the darkness like they were curious but stayed glued to Ella’s side.
I flipped the lights on and led them down. “They’re pretty well trained.”
“Thanks,” she said from behind me. “Huskies are smart, but kind of like the cats of the dog world. Pleasing their humans isn’t super high on their list like it is with most other breeds, so starting their training when they’re young, like I did, is definitely recommended.
And I still let them act like actual dogs and have their fun with new people and places.
Like when they met you. You looked like you were in puppy heaven at Jack’s, so I let them go a little wild.
Had you been a frail old lady, that interaction would have been very different. ”
I was impressed. The last dog my parents had couldn’t be trusted off a leash. Sure, she was a docile English lab that wouldn’t dream of biting someone, but she still never listened.
“Maybe if I take my mom’s advice and get a puppy you can give me some pointers,” I said.
“Absolutely.”
We reached the bottom of the stairs, and I flicked on the last set of lights.
Ella stopped short. “Woah. It looks like a Planet Fitness threw up in your basement.” And then she was off, disappearing between the large pieces of equipment and muttering to herself as she examined the ones more unfamiliar to her.
I caught a flash of red hair over the top of the upside-down leg extension machine. “I mean, what does this one even do?”
I didn’t answer, because I was pretty sure she was talking more to herself than to me. Or maybe she was talking to the dogs. One of them gave a little whuff in response, like he was taking part in the conversation.
She rounded the benchpress, coming back into sight, and paused at the free weights.
Her eyebrows rose as she stared at them.
“Can you even…?” she asked, stepping up to the heaviest dumbbell.
She put both hands around the handlebar like she was thinking about testing it out, then cocked her head sideways, read the weight stamped into the metal, and let it go like it had stung her. “No. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not today, hernia.”
It was only when my cheek twitched that I realized I was grinning like a fool. Funny what a little bit of human interaction could do to a guy that had been lacking it.
Damn it, maybe Mom was right.
Ella paced to the massive ropes coiled on the ground by the back of the room.
“Heh,” she said, thumbing toward them, “What are these for? Tying up your victims?” Her tone was sarcastic, but before I could answer, she turned fully toward me, her expression morphing into what I hoped was faux panic.
Her voice was shaky when she spoke again. “They’re not, are they?”
If I knew her better, I would have played along, maybe let loose a maniacal muah ha ha ha ha for good measure. But after my earlier outburst of temper, I didn’t want to risk appearing even slightly menacing right now. Instead, I smiled in what I hoped was a non-threatening way and shook my head no.
“Jump rope, then? Like, if you only have two people. One does the twirling, while the other jumps?” A wide grin split her face. “I bet you and Jack have pulled off some badass double-dutch sessions with these.”
The thought of Jack quick-footing it back and forth as these two-inch-wide ropes flew over and under him was enough to surprise a laugh out of me. “They’re battling ropes,” I told her. “You take the ends, and with your arms, you get them going in a sinuous motion. Like this.”
I picked them up, stepped back, and demonstrated their proper use. Ella had to grab the dogs to keep them from lunging. Right, probably should have warned her. The ropes must have looked like tug-of-war heaven to them.
I dropped them after a second to stop the dogs’ torment. Ella’s eyes were on the ropes instead of me, her cheeks nearly the same shade as her hair. I couldn’t tell if she was blushing, or if the effort of holding her dogs back had brought her color up.
She let them go, and they immediately pounced, each of them trying to pick up their own rope. Must have been the strain.
“How’d you get all this stuff down here and installed without anyone recognizing you?” she asked. Before I could answer, she held up her hands. “Sorry, none of my damn business.”
I was starting to regret what I’d said at Jack’s about my privacy.
I didn’t want her to feel like she had to walk on eggshells around me.
“It’s fine, Ella. I said I don’t like it when strangers pry into my private life.
That wasn’t exactly prying, just an innocent question.
And we’re not really strangers now, are we?
I mean, you’ve met my parents. One of your children already wants me to adopt them. ”
She shot Sam a look. “Traitor.”
He dropped his rope and stared adoringly up at her, tongue lolling out of his mouth.
“The gym gear came in the containers I shipped my stuff in,” I said.
“I was able to disassemble it and lug it down in pieces before setting it back up. And, like I told you the other night, I can get most everything else I need delivered. It’s lucky the local home improvement store offers truck drop-off, or I’d be screwed.
Still, I’ve had to get really good at making precise measurements while I’m working, so I don’t under order supplies. ”
“What do you do when you have to deal with someone face-to-face?”
“I, uh…I wear a disguise.”
Mischief crept into her expression. “What kind of disguise are we talking about here? Costumes? Wigs? Just so you know, I’m imagining an entire closet of spy-grade silicone face masks. You know, like the ones from the Mission Impossible movies.”
“Nothing that fancy.”
She stared at me, eyebrows raised in question.
I sighed. “Fine. I looked like an awkward hippie cosplaying as a praying mantis.”
She frowned, her gaze roving over my face like she was trying to picture it.
I could tell the second she did, because her mouth started to twitch.
It was like the flood that broke the dam.
Her lips parted, and she let out a small little chuckle that quickly grew in volume and pitch until she was bent over at the waist, hands on her knees, all but scream-laughing at me.
“I’m not sure if I should be offended or embarrassed right now,” I said.
“Oh, God. The mental image, Ben,” she said as she fought to straighten back up.
“Because you’re all…” She flared her shoulders out as wide as they would go, flexed her arms, and made a face I’m sure I’d never made in my life.
“…and that sounds…” She tucked her chin down, opened her eyes as wide as they would go, and crab stepped toward me.
Then she was laughing again, and I lost it too. I really had looked like a damn fool in that getup.
By the time I calmed down, my ribs hurt.
I couldn’t remember the last time someone got me laughing this hard.
Goddamn it, Mom was right about my isolation after all.
I was self-aware enough to admit that I’d been lonely as hell and just suppressing it.
And I was probably more secluded than I should be out here.
Even with that awkward phone call from my parents, this morning was nice. Needed. Sharing a cup of coffee with someone, playing with their animals, showing off my hard work, it was these little things that made the difference.
I already got this to some extent with Jack when I visited him, but he was more reserved than Ella.
Our conversations tended to be more serious, with long, comfortable pauses where we were left alone with our thoughts.
It wasn’t like that with her. I couldn’t just fade out.
Every second she’d been here, I’d been fully tuned in, wondering what she was going to do next.
Do you want to be my friend? I almost blurted.
Like this was preschool, and it was that easy still.
I wished it were. Over the past decade, all of my friends had come from the sport I played.
My agent. My PR rep. My fellow players. My personal trainer.
People I was forced together with at first and then slowly developed relationships with throughout the course of our interactions.
It was easier that way than making friends outside of football circles.
Those people got it. They understood the stress, the highs and lows, the intensity.
And they kept their mouths shut about it all because blabbing to the media or online would cost them their jobs or their reputations.
It was a risk, making a friend who wasn’t tied to football in some way.
But then again, maybe it would be worth the reward.
To have someone in my life totally divorced from that world, to have a person I could talk to about literally every other subject on the planet, would be a welcome distraction, and would probably provide a much-needed mental break.
Ella hadn’t once, during any of our – admittedly limited – interactions, given me the vibe that she would ever blab on social media about me.
The fact that she’d made up a fake name for me in front of her sister, and then double-checked my identity on the phone in case I was a catfish showed just how much she respected my privacy.
Maybe it was time I started trusting my judgment again.
“Hey, so,” I said. “I know your family is in town and Christmas and the following days will probably be hectic for you, but did you want to swing by sometime after, when it all dies down, and bring cribbage with you?”
She immediately sobered. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay here on Christmas by yourself?
My family spends Christmas Eve and Christmas morning together, but then we break apart during the afternoon and go out visiting other people.
It’s a tradition in the local area. I always pop in to visit Jack.
I could easily swing by here afterward.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
She waved me off. “You really wouldn’t be.
Megan doesn’t do the whole visiting thing.
The stress of being around our entire clan for an extended period is too much for her.
She usually goes back to my place to chill out, and I try to give her plenty of time to do so.
But I don’t want to impose on you, either.
Like I said earlier, I tend to push myself on people, and I don’t want to do that to you.
I know you said you came out here to get away. ”
My first instinct was to tell her not to come over.
Not because I didn’t want her here, but because I didn’t want to upend her life.
Then again, she was a grown-ass woman, so if she was saying she wouldn’t mind stopping over, I should take her at her word.
And act like a grown-ass man and be honest in return.
“You’re not being too much,” I said. “If you’re up for it, please come over on Christmas.”
She brightened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said, grinning down at her.