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She looks off to the side for a moment, then looks back up to me, her eyes bright and curious. She smiles tightly and nods.
“Seven o'clock,” she repeats.
“All right then,” I finally say and make myself walk back toward the sliding glass door. I feel her eyes on me as I walk away and wonder why it feels like there's a band between us, stretching as I cross the threshold.
Chapter 4
Vanessa
How did I get myself into this?
As he walks out the sliding glass door, I can't help but watch his body move. That certain tightness in his lower back, like a coiled spring. His hips churn as he walks, strong and supple like a predatory cat flexing its muscles.
But then I remember, his brothers were just here last night…
Oh my God. Seriously, how did I get myself into this?
Automatically, I look around for something to clean up since I just ate breakfast, but there's nothing left. He did the dishes too? What is he, some kind of domestic superhero? Maybe I'm dreaming. Maybe I'm still passed out from that wine and just invented him. But no, I'm definitely awake. Every few seconds my eyeballs throb painfully, reminding me that I am absolutely, positively awake, even if I wish I weren't.
And now, apparently I have a dinner date too.
I should have said no. There will probably be more wine there, and I guess it makes me a little crazy. Certainly nothing like the tequila shooters I used to do in school. I could plow through a half dozen of those before I even felt anything.
But after just one glass of that sweet potion, I felt myself all warm and loose inside. And then my skin tingled all over and I could feel it like a hunger. I needed to touch, to feel friction, to feel pressure. Before I knew what I was doing, I'd unconsciously dragged my calf against Tim's. It felt so good, I did it again. And then again. Then when I looked up at him, he was staring at me with that thick, intense look of a man engorged with lust.
And God help me if I didn't do the same thing to Tom, on the other side of me. Just like that! Just lost my damn mind!
Reliving the memory, I shudder with embarrassment and shake my head. I wonder if we can move away? How long do my parents think we will be in this house, anyway?
This incident may be the thing that actually goes ahead and makes me sign back up for college, just to escape. Figures. But who goes to school to avoid sexual exploration?
And I am definitely not going to dinner. First two irresistible hunks, then Stan walks right in here like the powerful father figure… Bossing me around, telling me what to do, making me breakfast and then cleaning up the kitchen. I was helpless as soon as he walked in the door, just waiting for instructions. Everything he said, I automatically did it, when all the while he was taking care of me.
So I definitely can't be around these guys again, right? He said there are five, so that’s two more temptations I might not be able to withstand. I can’t just walk right into the middle of a lion’s den.
That would just be nuts.
As the day goes on, I try to distract myself with shuffling boxes from one room to another, looking for a way to organize this enormous house as I recover from this hangover. Even as I work, I find myself peering out of windows, trying to see through the forest. I know that their house is over there somewhere, but the best I can do is sometimes make out a gap where the disordered forest here turns into neat rows that must be the orchard, I assume. There house must be pretty far away.
Two more brothers. I wonder if they’re older or younger? And parents? Or, maybe the neighbors will be over there again? Margie and Ben? I mean, is that the kind of cul-de-sac this is? Does everybody just hang out every day like they’re all in some kind of foreign art film?
Honestly, that would not be so bad. I could take my guitar over there. It really would be like a foreign film. We could project a movie onto a sheet stretched between apple trees. Maybe finish off the night with some music and grape stomping…
No, wait. No grapes. Apples! I don't think you stomp apples. You probably crush them or dice them or something. I'll definitely have to remember to ask about that…
Except, I'm not going!
In the back corner of the parlor with a fireplace, I find another box of my name on it and pick it up. It's really light, which is great because I don't have a lot of strength left in me. I could really use a nap. As I walk up the stairs, the contents of the box shift, revealing a little bit of tawny fluff, and I realize it's actually my giant teddy bear from when I was a little kid. Blaze. The best teddy bear a girl ever had.
I set the box down and open the flaps gingerly, smiling with relief. I can’t believe they kept this. My mom's handwriting on the outside of the box. For some reason, this strikes me as being the most poignant thing. Literally, I'm getting choked up over this stupid bear.
The thing is, it's in a box, in this new place. I haven't seen it in years, so somehow my mom kept track of it and made sure that it would be here for me again. But, we’re not the kind of family that keeps things. We’re not the kind of family that gets bogged down with stuff.
“Ohhh, Mom,” I sigh aloud.
I pick Blaze up, clutching him briefly to my chest and inhaling deeply, then walking back up the stairs to my room. I set him carefully between the pillows on my bed. He'll be happy here. I can tell.
Now all I’ve got to do is let them know that I'm not coming to the dinner.
