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I scold myself for all this soppy thinking, and plunge myself into the bath. Tonight the town will come together and we’ll sing and be content with what we have, and it’ll be enough.
My red dress fits snugly, and my boots clack as I walk around fussing with the rest of the outfit. I’m not sure about the gloop. Scarlet lipstick smears my lips, and it just feels wrong, as if I’ve gone and dunked my mouth in lard. Mascara coats my lashes and it’s all I can do to see past them; I get the heebie-jeebies when I glance upward and it looks as if I’ve got spiders’ legs poking out of my eyes. And women do this every day? A knock at the door startles me. Damon. Groaning, I peep at myself once more. I’m worried I look like a clown with so much stuff on my face. And I’ve spritzed on too much perfume, I’m sure of it.
I fan myself with my hands to dispel the scent as I walk to the door.
“Well, look at you.” His gooey caramel-colored eyes hone in on my face.
“Too much?” I ask. He ignores me and his gaze travels down my body, making me squirm.
“You look beautiful. Truly beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
I shift my feet and try not to stare at the floor. It’s not a date; it’s simply an escort to a public event. It’s not a date. Damon’s grinning like a fool, and he’s dressed up for the occasion too. He’s still wearing super-snug jeans, which I don’t rightly oppose, but he’s swapped those awful checker shirts for a tight sweater that stretches over his stomach. I can see the outline of his muscles. He’s holding a thick black jacket over his shoulder. And a grey woolen scarf is wound expertly around his neck. He smells divine, like something sweet and sugary. Something edible. I retreat to grab my coat. An uncomfortable heat spreads through my body and if I didn’t know better I’d say it was desire.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Sure am.” I’m debating whether to hold his hand when his phone rings. I force a smile on my face as he motions to the cell and walks back down the driveway. Who in the hell keeps calling him? I’m feeling about as smart as tree bark even entertaining the thought of going out with Damon. It’s as if I have a gift of picking men who want to break my heart.
Hold his hand? Goddamn it, girl. While I wait for him to finish, I head back to the bathroom and roughly wipe off the lipstick. Who was I trying to be anyhow? It’s just not my thing. My eyes prick with tears, and I wonder what’s got into me.
“Lil. Lil?”
“I’m coming,” I say with one last look at the girl in the mirror.
Damon frowns when he sees me. “What happened?”
“Nothing. Let’s go — we don’t want to be late.”
He goes to speak then changes his mind.
We walk to the town center, and Damon chatters away about inconsequential things. I nod, and say, “Mmm,” but my heart isn’t in it any more. I’m annoyed at myself for being upset. Joel, remember, you love Joel. But I begin to wonder if that’s true. Maybe I just like the idea of being married because it means someone loves me above all else.
“Have I done something to upset you?”
An awkward silence hangs between us, while I walk a pace ahead. “Why do you say that?”
“You seem distant, and before you were positively glowing.”
“I’m fine. Just tired. I might call it a night. I’ll introduce you round, then head on home.”
He catches up and puts his hands in his pockets. “Aw, what? What’s upset you, Lil?”
I pull my coat tight and cross my arms. “Nothing, it’s been a long day, that’s all.” There’s an edge to my voice and I can’t seem to disguise it. I hope I don’t start crying on account of this fool.
He slaps his head. “Was it the phone call?” Stopping in front of me, he holds my face and forces me to look into his eyes. Lowering his voice to a husky whisper, he says, “Was it?”
“The call? Don’t you mean calls? You sure are popular on that damn cell. Don’t you know that’s a lot of radiation going in your ear, right into that brain of yours?”
“Is that what’s bothering you, all the calls?” He looks truly concerned, but that doesn’t wash with me. Joel’s phone was ringing off the hook near on a month before he walked out. I know what this is.
“It’s nothing to do with me. Your phone is your business.”
“Lil, I’m not going to lie. I like you. I like you a lot. But there’s things you don’t know about me. And I was gonna tell you…”
“What? That you’ve got a girl back in New Orleans that you’re stringing along?”
He has the audacity to laugh. I glare up at him.
“No! There is no girl…well, there is a girl…”
Storming forward, I push past Damon, and head towards the town square.
“Wait! Would you wait?” he says, pulling me back by my elbow. “Let me explain.”
Feeling utterly stupid, I brush tears away with my sleeve. “You don’t owe me any explanation.”
He groans, looks up at the sky. “You’re making this hard.”
I open my mouth to respond and he leans forward and cups my face with those big hands of his. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Before I know it, he’s planted his lips on mine and I’m truly lost. Warmth spreads through me, while our lips collide. My body betrays me; my legs feel like jelly. My heart hammers against my chest as I pull him closer. I melt into him, and move my hands to his face, until my brain clicks back into gear.
There is a girl.
I step back, and glower at Damon. “What do you think you’re doing? You got a girl back home and you’re—”
“I sure do.” He’s grinning at me like a damn fool again. What is he playing at? He’s got this love-struck, goofy look on his face.
“Are you drunk?”
He touches a finger to his lips, as if he’s reliving the memory of our kiss before smiling at me again. “Come on, let’s walk, and I’ll tell you all about the girl back in New Orleans.”
I snatch my hand away when he tries to clasp it. “Shoot.”
“Her name’s Charlotte, and she’s as pretty as a picture.” He darts me a look that says wait. “She’s got these blond, itty-bitty curls, kind of like yours…”
“Get to the point, Damon. You aren’t exactly winning me over here.”
“She’s turning seven next month. СКАЧАТЬ