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“Fiona!” Holly looks thrilled. “I cannot believe this. How could you withhold this information from me? And by the way, what does huge mean?”
“I’m not exaggerating. I’m serious. I can’t exaggerate this guy. He looks exactly like he sounds on the phone. I thought he was an aging ex-wife fantasy but nuh uh. Bo’s the real deal Holly, the real deal.” Finally I’m smiling. Wine or not, it feels surprisingly good to get all the details off my chest. “Um…he has dark hair, brownish eyes, a perfectly shaped goatee…I shouldn’t be talking about this.”
“Why? Are you kidding me? He sounds like Superman on a platter! You should be calling him five times a day!” she shouts gleefully, then hesitates. “Wait a minute, he’s not Ulysses all over again, is he?”
“No!” Her question causes me to sit bolt upright. “No way. He’s as refined and selfless as any gentleman I’ve ever met. He’s just incredible Holly. Like very, very hard-to-even-believe-he’s-real incredible. I’m fucking in love and I have no idea how I’m going to get through this.”
“Fiona!”
“Sorry…scuse my French. It’s just…I am in deep, deep trouble here. Like my-life-will-never-be-the-same-again trouble.”
Holly grins and claps her watery hands together. “Bravo! Fiona’s in love! I can’t believe it! I had the sense you were secretly into him but…this is Earth-shattering.”
“Damn right it is, and I have no idea how to navigate from here. The first day we spent hours at his Expo booth, hanging out together between clients, and everything was going great. And then all of a sudden he started telling me how he doesn’t intend to have a fling or take advantage of a ‘woman like me’. And I was like, okay…what does he think this is then? So I reminded him point-blank that I was flying home to all my responsibilities in two days. And he just said ‘We’ll work something out’.” When I pause for a breath I’m met with Holly’s baffled stare. “Well? What was I supposed to say to the guy? I mean, yes…I wanted to go to bed with him. And I know that’s not characteristic of me at all, but I haven’t felt this in…actually I’ve never felt like this about anyone. And I sure as heck wasn’t going to walk away from a guy like him, but—”
“Fiona…hang on. Are you hearing yourself at all here?”
“What?”
“You’ve got a man you’re wild about, who insists on not using you, and you sound upset about it. I don’t understand what it is you’re going for in life. How are you possibly interpreting any of this as a bad thing?”
“Holly, you know my situation. You know as well as anyone that this can’t possibly go anywhere.”
“But—”
“I can’t lose my business Holly. I can’t put my livelihood in jeopardy in the wild pursuit of a long distance boyfriend. If Quade ever caught wind of it, and I assure you that one way or another…that would happen, he would pull the plug on everything I am, overnight.”
Chapter 24
Bo
Sunday mornin I whip outta bed bright and early. After one full day of hardly movin, I’m ready to get my ass back on the horse. The trick is for me to concentrate on the realness, the life and the love I heard in her voice there at the end. Though she tried hard not to, Fiona gave herself away. And as long as she still feels, I’m gonna draw her back into her light. Damn beautiful woman. What’s a man to do?
After hittin the hardware store for some supplies, I do somethin I haven’t done in years. I unlock the old house and enter. I detect no mold in here; the place always was tight as a drum, solidly built. Other than about a foot of dust, it’s nothin too daunting. Memories hit me in a torrent as I track through the rooms, peeking around doors and opening cabinets.
When I place my boot on the bottom step, somethin freezes me up. Me and Mack’s childhood bedrooms are upstairs, and it’s strange to think of them still just sittin there suspended in time…all quiet and cobwebbed and unused. I didn’t know I was gonna set foot in here when I woke up today. Figured I’d lay in my supplies and then hit the garden. I guess being so close to fixin up the place compelled me to go ahead and have a look.
I’ve already laid everything out on charts…the new kitchen I’m gonna put in, updates to the bathrooms, modern lighting and ceiling fans, a fresh coat of paint everywhere. The hardwoods are as good as ever. What they need is a nice polishing. I’ll replace the nasty old carpeting in the bedrooms and take up the kitchen linoleum. This place will be picture perfect on the day my doll moves in with me.
There’s nothin like a hard day’s work to take my mind off my troubles. By nightfall I’m dirty and exhausted, and ready to whip up a little dinner. I throw a homemade pizza together and hit the shower, then kick up my heels with a book while it finishes baking. I almost psych myself up imagining Fiona will call again tonight, but my intuition says it ain’t gonna happen.
Nonetheless, I can’t concentrate on science fiction. My mind is wholly set on gettin the house done and gettin her in it. It’s gonna be a long process if I can’t find my peace of mind, but it’s been slipping me ever since that dern phone call. I’m best off to forget all about Fiona for now, and that ain’t an easy prospect. Maybe she’ll at least stay out of my dreams for a while.
I finish up my plant chores and settle into bed, quiet enough to hear a pin drop. The cicadas are my only company tonight, and they even sound more distant than usual. I close my eyes and concentrate on lettin go, clearin my head. And then the images come, plain as day. Not dreams but memories…the sounds and scents of Fiona, rushin into my awareness all at once. And the way she looked in the throes of pleasure. Admittedly, my pride’s a little battered by how she could just walk away like this. I know what I did for the woman…and I know what she did for me. I honestly thought her barriers would come crashin down.
Which brings me back to wonderin exactly what is up with that Quade fella. If he did tap her phone, will she even bother to tell me? I guess I’ll find out when she orders more orchids, but that could be weeks or a couple months out at least. Or maybe she’ll just hook herself up with a new supplier.
Naw…now my mind’s gone all rotten on me. Fiona is my woman, the woman of my actual dreams. Nothin can come between us. I slam a fist into the mattress and try to fight the urges of my body. The anger at Quade that was filling my veins, now drains and morphs into other aggressive emotions. A low growl develops in my chest and I let it out, thrashing my blankets off and seizing my turgid member. After all my efforts to not act like a total animal around Fiona, the thought of her drives me mad in this endless aftermath of noncommunication. I need her next to me. Under me. On top of me. My right-hand gal for all time.
I give in and indulge myself in the torture of fantasy, wonderin for the life of me whether Fiona’s doin the same thing tonight.
Chapter 25
Fiona
“Holly,” I say the moment she picks up her phone, “Lieutenant Earnhart called back today.”
“And?”
