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The more time I spend with her, the more comfortable I feel around her, and I even happen across other benefits like how much less lonely I feel. She tells me all this personal stuff about her grandmother—gram—and how close her brother, Matt, is to her. Then there are things about Jodi as well as Hildi and Zoe. She shares all sorts of insider information on several of the localtownsfolk, things I never knew even though I often work with some of these people.
“Where do you learn all of this?” I ask her. She’s like the Wikipedia of Oak Valley.
“I just hear it, I guess. People like to talk when getting their hair done.”
It’s late one night, while lying in bed together, that I mention Karena. How we were together for four years until I made a mistake.
“What mistake did you make?” she inquires of me.
Though I want to answer her, I have to clear my throat three times before I can. “I popped the question.” At the time, I’d believed a solid four-year relationship meant she’d crave a similar future to the one I did. I was wrong. “She broke up with me then and there. One minute, I was in this wonderful, committed relationship, then there was nothing. No one in my life now even knows about her.”
“Wow. I think that’s the most you’ve ever told me all at once,” she observes, but I don’t comment.
I don’t like to talk about Karena. I’m not sure why I mentioned it now. Losing her had been such a shock to my system.
“Have you had anything that serious since?” Becca asks.
As I trace the outline of her fingers, I reply honestly, “No one. Don’t need to go through that again. Not a big fan of one-night stands, either. You’re the first woman I’ve been with in years, actually.”
“I’m honored, hottie.” She brushes her lips along my temple, and I love the endearment, the sincerity behind it. “I’m not awesome with relationships, either.”
“Except for this one,” I disagree. “This one’s been so easy.”
“This oneiseasy, that’s why. I love that you have zero expectations of me. There’s no talk of ‘us.’” She uses fingerquotes. “Or where this might or might not be going. I appreciate that. What we have is just what we both need for right now.”
She’s right. Not that I’d mind more.
Her mentioning this makes me wonder if she’ll be breaking it off sooner rather than later. I picture what a future with her might look like, what an “us” might look like.
“So you don’t think you’ll ever be interested in going down a more long-lasting road?” I ask, treading carefully.
“No reason to.” She pinches my inner thigh. “Not when I’ve got something as perfect as this.”
I scrutinize her, take in her beauty and rambunctiousness, think about how all her strengths seem to be my weaknesses and vice versa. It feels like time may be running out for us, not only because the renovations on my house are within weeks of being complete but because she’s clearly not going to ask for more. And I can’t suggest that we try, either.
Instead, I reach for her as she saunters out of bed to get dressed, even as she flits out of my grasp. And once she disappears, even though I know she’s right next door, I miss her.
Six
Becca
It’s the week of Christmas, which means my shop is busy with people who want a cut, trim, or style before the big holiday. Although I’ve tried to get away to have lunch with Jodi more than once, I’ve been too tied up with work, and she’s been too tied up with my brother. Not that we dish about him.
Normally, I’d be all up in her business about her having a new man in her life, but since it’s Mattie…Yeah, no. There are some things a sibling just doesn’t need to know.
I do hear a few things, though.
One is all about this scandal down at the high school, suggesting the principal is possibly screwing around on his wife. There’s also one about how Mayor Chuck Graham may be getting a divorce. Belinda, his wife of nearly twenty years, was seen packing up a car to the brim and driving off in a huff.
“It’s been a week, and she hasn’t been back, either,” Rhonda, one of my regulars tells the shop.
“Oh, that’s terrible,” I intone. “How old is Hudson now?” Hudson is Chuck’s teenage son.
“Fifteen,” says Thea, another regular of mine, with foil all through her hair for a tint job. “He’s a sophomore. It’s not a great time to watch your parents go through a divorce.”
I, personally, don’t think there is a good age to end up as the collateral damage of a divorce.
“All that time devoted to a marriage as well as raising a child together.” I sigh. “It’s so sad.”
