16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
I skipped out of Clarissa’s styling chair with fresh roots when I received a phone call from Fiona. In this week’s call I regretted picking up, Fiona monologued about Mom trying to poison everyone at family dinner with salad dressing that had been in the refrigerator for well over a decade.
I droned, “Oh yeah? Uh-huh.”
“How are things with you?” she asked.
“That’s wild.” I caught myself on autopilot. “Oh, uh, great actually.”
“Great? Really?” Fiona never believed me when I shared good news.
“Working on my physical fitness, starting to draw again.” I wasn’t sure if Beau was sister newsworthy.
“Wow. What are you doing?”
A man in his twenties. “Cycling, strength training, Pilates. A little bit of everything really.”
“You sound really happy.”
“You can hear it in my voice?”
“Yeah. I can’t point out any specifics.”
It was less than half an hour to the start of cycle class, and I needed to change, get a good seat, and properly warm up. “Huh, well, I have to cut this short. I’m off to a cycle class.”
Imagine my surprise when after a couple weeks of my life revolving around Beau and his dick, I arrived to class to discover Starla filling in for him. I checked my phone for any missed phone calls or texts. I didn’t exactly give Starla my all during the cycle class, as I kept looking at my phone, expecting something from Beau. Maybe Starla knew something? After the disappointing class, I waded through the Starla fan club to ask her where Beau was.
“He said it was an emergency. Something with his mom and dad. ”
He never talked about his mom or dad. Jealousy swirled with bile in the pit of my stomach. Starla knew more personal details about him than I did, and I knew what his balls looked like.
I sent a text and then a call that went straight to his messages. In this abyss of incommunicado despair, I did something I wasn’t proud of. I drove to the street he had gestured to on our walk back from Vine and Spirits.
I slowed my car to a crawl to find the house with the basketball hoop in the driveway. At the top of the cul-de-sac, I found a house that fit the description, a sand-colored ranch home with white shutters and trim. The front yard appeared curated with curved, pebbled pathways and flourishing drought-resistant plants. The home was gorgeous in its simplicity.
I parked alongside the street and took a deep breath before leaving my car. This was an invasion. If this was his home, he hadn’t invited me. I was sort of stalking and forcing my way in.
I knocked on the door and counted backwards from one hundred. If nobody answered by then, I’d take that as a sign and drive back home like a normal person. In the final ten seconds, I shifted my weight to pivot around .
Then a slender older woman answered the door who appeared straight out of a prescription drug ad with a head of thick, white hair to her chin, and hazel eyes that were otherworldly. Beau had mentioned his roommate was older. I didn’t know what that meant, but this woman seemed old enough to be his mother.
“Hello,” I said, “is Beau here?”
“He’s watching television with his father. Beau! Someone’s here to see you.”
He entered the foyer, and his eyes bugged. “Sir.”
“I know, I know, but Starla said you had an emergency come up, and I worried. And now I’m here, waving red flags everywhere.”
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his gray sweatpants. “My dad fell off the ladder earlier today. I took him to the emergency room.”
“I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”
He craned his neck and looked off to the room on the other side of the foyer. He looked like he was about to throw up.
I fucked up. I shouldn’t be there. I seriously pole vaulted over a bunch of boundaries.
Sunshine and rainbows Beau lowered his head as if ashamed. He murmured, “I live with my parents. ”
“Oh.” I totally did that movement with my head where I shifted it back as I considered what he said. I shook the expression off because I was making a judgy face, and I so didn’t want to be making a judgy face. He wasn’t ashamed of me but worried how I would react, knowing a full-grown man’s roommates were his parents. “Do you think I care about that?”
I used the moment to ask myself if I did. Growing up, even with the worst economy since the Great Depression, elder millennials like me put value in living on our own. We had shitty apartments where we’d invite friends over and pre-party before hobbling to the club in stilt-like heels and peplum tops. In my nice but not show-stopping condo, I’d probably kind of love dividing the rent with my mother. I’d have half the sanity but also half the cost.
And we really lived in one of the most expensive places in the world . Everyone wanted the Gorda Vista feel with the promise of escaping to the cities sandwiching us. But no one ever wanted to go to those cities. They loved beautiful, over-priced Gorda Vista.
I stepped forward. “I don’t care about that.”
Relief smoothed the crease in his brows.
“But I want you to feel comfortable telling me these things because…” Because this take-it-as-we-go arrangement was taking me straight to relationship town despite better judgment. Although some johns really cared about the prostitutes they hired. Not that I hired Beau for bedroom activities. Though the relationship had an odd transactional element to it. “I care about you.”
His eyes went full-on puppy. “They still make me do chores, you know. I was supposed to clean the gutters, but I’ve been a little distracted lately. Dad took it upon himself to climb up there.”
I swallowed. I was the distraction. A sick feeling overcame me. “Do you feel guilty about what we do?”
“No, but I should be spending more time at home.”
I didn’t expect to be this disappointed in slowing things down. Jesus, I needed to chill and just go back to being a lonely lady who masturbated after reading smut. “I shouldn’t be here. I invaded. I’ll see you when I see you.”
I was about ready to head out the door when he added, “If the shoe was on the other foot, I’d want to be there for you too. ”
I shimmered internally. “I could help you.” At thirty-seven years old, I was still letting a dick make me do stupid things. “With cleaning the gutters.”
His lips twitched, as if he was fighting a smile. “You want to do that? With me?”
No, I didn’t want to clean out the gutters. Ick. Gross. I seriously hired people for that shit. It was one of the few benefits of having my ex-husband as a landlord. But spending time with Beau and helping him care for his family? I wanted to do that.
“I was going to get started with it tomorrow, after boot camp and core class.”
I had a plan for my Saturday. “I’ll be right over.”
He stared at me for the longest time. “Should we hug or something?”
I stepped farther into the foyer, and we embraced. He smelled so clean, like those air fresheners labeled Aloe Winds or Connecticut Clouds— as if he had the world’s best laundry detergent. Hugging in his parents’ house somehow felt more intimate than exchanging bodily fluids. I adjusted my head and looked up at him. He lowered his lips to mine, and we pecked.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”