DAMIEN
Meara didn’t come back to the office that Friday afternoon. She didn’t call or text either. I wanted to give her space, so I went out with a couple friends from college instead. We went to two different bars, and both of them hit on women. I played wingman, and when they asked me why I didn’t want to try to get some for myself, I told them it was complicated.
“What do you mean complicated?” one of my friends asked.
“He means someone’s already got their hooks into him,” the other man said.
“Guilty.” I raised my shot glass before knocking it back.
It was fun to be out with the guys. Even better that none of them were aware of the truly complicated situation I had going on at the office. I resisted all of their attempts to pry more information out of me. What happened in the office stayed in the office, or something like that. I was aware how crazy it all would sound, and I didn’t want to open that can of worms.
I was successful in helping one of my buddies hook up, and we left him alone with a looker at the bar. I took a rideshare home because I was in no shape to drive and fell into bed without even checking my phone.
The next day, I was a little disappointed that Meara hadn’t called. I wondered what she was up to and if she was thinking about me too. I didn’t want to intrude on her Saturday plans, and being needy wasn’t a good look on a guy. I forced myself to refocus my thoughts. Turning on the news, I sat down with a bottled water and considered the rest of my day.
I could work on the deck. There was a rotten board that was just begging to be pried loose. I could go to the golf course. It had been ages since I was there, and it always bagged us a good lead on a client. I did both of those things, and by the time Sunday rolled around, I was out of diversions. I wanted to relax, and I needed someone to vent to.
Picking up my phone, I texted Danielle. You up for some company?
Always, she replied.
I got changed into some decent clothes and got into the car. On the drive, I tried not to think about Meara. It wasn’t fair. Kent kissing her had nothing to do with me. Why hadn’t there been such a fuss about Sean’s kiss? Was it because Sean was Sean and Kent was Kent? Was there more to the story? Had something happened that turned Meara off to all of us?
It was torture to worry about it like that. I should just take a deep breath and let it all roll off my back. Unfortunately, I really liked her. The possibility of losing our connection worried me. She had been so reluctant to spend the night until I’d really pushed my agenda and laid down the law. I felt triumphant, euphoric, like I had conquered a mountain and stood on top of the world. My hard-won gains seemed in danger of collapsing around me like a deck of cards.
I pulled into Danielle’s driveway, not even watching where I was going. I came to an abrupt halt as Nova poked her head up from beside her mother’s car. The child was drawing on the pavement with chalk, and I nearly ran over her.
Cursing myself, I eased backwards and pulled up behind Danielle instead of beside her. Putting on the parking brake, I got out. I decided to play it off like there had been no danger. Nova raced up to me and threw her arms around my waist.
“Damien!” she cried.
“Hey there, kiddo,” I replied, tousling her hair. “What are you working on?”
“I’m drawing flowers.” She led me by the hand to where she had been sitting. I looked down and saw a rudimentary bouquet of daisies and tulips. The colors were creative: purple for the daisies and orange for the tulips. But I wasn’t an art critic.
“It looks great,” I enthused.
“Do you want to draw some?” She pressed a piece of chalk into my hand.
I got down on one knee beside the flowers. “What should I draw?”
“A rabbit,” Nova said with a grin.
“A rabbit?”
“To eat the flowers.”
I traced an open mouth next to one of the tulips, stretched wide with fangs as if it was going to devour the petals. After that, I added a poor parody of a rabbit’s body. Nova frowned and shook her head.
“Not like that,” she said.
“Okay.” I stood up, brushing chalk dust off my hands. “Is your mother home?”
“She’s inside,” Nova said.
“Show me,” I commanded.
Nova dropped the chalk and ran toward the house. We entered through the front door, each shouting out for Danielle in our own way.