He was still only inches away. “I shouldn’t have done that.” He expelled a hard, quick breath. “I’m sorry.”
Before I could speak, he got out of the car and mumbled a hurried good-bye. I felt stunned, like a bird that had flown into a windowpane. Was that all he could say? That he shouldn’t have kissed me? I watched him disappear up his stairs. Part of me wanted to follow him and rush into his arms, but I could only sit in dumb amazement.
As I entered my kitchen, the phone was ringing. No one called me this late. It must be Henry explaining his bizarre behavior. I’d rehashed the kiss over and over on the ride home. Never in my life had a man kissed me, then immediately apologized and practically run away as if his life were in danger. What was his problem? We were both single adults, even if I was Phil’s ex-wife. Did Henry have an aversion to divorced women? If so, why had he kissed me?
I answered the phone and heard Tim say, “How about if I come over? I could be there in fifteen minutes.”
“I’m about to go to bed,” I said. “It’s been an exhausting evening.”
“Poor baby. Why don’t you let Dr. O’Brien come over and make you feel better? We got stopped in the middle of something special today, and you’ve been on my mind ever since.”
I tried to decide whether I wanted to go out with Tim again. I had just kissed another man, and enjoyed it. I wasn’t a two-timing type of woman who could juggle men like beanbags. But I didn’t trust my emotions. How many times had I thought I was making the right choice, only to discover I was living in a fantasy world?
I thought about Tim’s good points and reminded myself the list stretched long. And he seemed genuine, uncomplicated. With Tim what you saw is what you got.
“Not tonight,” I said. “But we’ll see each other again soon.”
At one the next afternoon, Lois and I met for lunch at Azteca Restaurant. Feeling little interest in the Henricks’ deal or any real-estate business, I sat as a foggy spectator while Lois’s elastic mouth emphasized the words closing and co-list. I hadn’t slept well the night before, and the three cups of coffee and two doughnuts I consumed during the office meeting had drained me.
Trying to impress me with hermost recent sale, Lois heaped guacamole and sour cream on her taco salad, then dug in.
“You must have the metabolism of an eight-year-old,” I said. I’d never heard her complain about her weight. The woman seemed to shine twenty-four hours a day. “How do you manage to stay so slim?” I asked.
“I drink more than I eat.” She must have noticed confusion on my face, because she added, “Water. I chug at least eight glasses every day, and I walk on my treadmill in the morning while I watch the news.”
“Your routine must work, because you look great.”
“So my hubby tells me.” She swallowed another mouthful. “Say, you could help me out. In thirty minutes I have an appointment to show Darla Bennett a condo, and it may cut my golf game short. Maybe you could fill in for me.”
I dropped the tortilla chip I was about to plunge into the salsa on the edge of my plate. “Darla is my ex-husband’s girlfriend.” I felt like I’d just unloaded my top bureau drawer, where I hid my private effects, on the table, but she deserved an explanation.
“So? You’ve been single ever since we met. You must have gotten divorced ages ago.”
I grabbed the chip again and dragged it through the chunky red sauce. “Real life’s not like the movies, where everyone can be best friends after they break up.”
Lois stared back without understanding. “Then wouldn’t it be an outstanding revenge to earn a fat commission check from her?”
“No, I think I’d better keep out of it.”
“Have it your way.”
After she left to meet up with Darla, I stashed my half-eaten enchilada in a doggie bag and drove home. I made a stab at straightening the house, threw a load of laundry in the washing machine, even took Charlie for a walk around the block, then tumbled onto the couch for a quick nap.
The neighbor’s leaf blower woke me up. I tried to move my head, but my neck felt locked in place, as though rigor mortis had set in. Swinging my feet around to the floor, I pushed my torso to a sitting position with my arms, which started my head pounding. I checked my watch and realized I’d slept two hours. Laurie would be around to pick me up in twenty minutes.
Feeling woozy, I splashed cold water on my face, then checked myself in the mirror. Nothing I tried alleviated the puffy half-moons under my eyes and the sleep creases on my cheek. My hair lay matted flat on one side, but fiddling with it made it look worse.
Laurie’s horn tooted out front. I finished changing out of my work clothes into jeans and a turtleneck sweater.
“Tell me all about the party,” she said as I piled into her car.
“Not much to tell. There were tons of people there, but the only one I recognized from class was Rhonda. Phil was there, but at least Darla wasn’t hanging on his arm.”
“What did you and Henry talk about?”
I glanced down at my loafers, and noticed I was wearing one black sock and one blue sock. “He was surrounded by admirers and rich patrons most of the time. We didn’t talk much.”
“That’s strange. I’d swear he’s been watching you in class.”
“He probably thinks I’m a still life.” I tried sounding nonchalant. I was tempted to divulge the dinner at my parents’ house
