Second Chance for Romance

We spent the rest of the day unpacking boxes and arranging furniture. Wren and Christy concentrated on the kitchen and dining room. Trip and I worked our way through the living room, octagonal front room, and the little main-floor bedroom.

The next day Trip and Wren worked in the master bedroom, while Christy and I did the same in our separate ones. I heard her struggling to move furniture, so I offered to help. Then I hung around to unpack an entire box of purses and store them on the top shelf in the closet.

“I know what to get you for Christmas,” I teased. “A stepladder.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious. Why do you want these up here? You won’t be able to get

’em down yourself.”

“I don’t need them very often.”

“Then why’d you bring them?”

“In case I do need them.”

“Yeah, but…” I made a quick guess, “Thirty?”

“Most go with formal outfits or cocktail dresses.”

“How many formal events do you plan to attend?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll need the right outfit.” She opened another large box.

“Holy crap! Are those all shoes?”

“Of course. That box too.”

“What do you need all those for?”

“They match different outfits. Some match purses. Some are just pretty. I haven’t found an outfit for them yet.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course. Why?” She looked up. “What’s the matter?”

“I can’t believe you have all these shoes and purses.” I pointed at the pile of dress bags on the bed. “And those. Same with them?”

“Same what?”

“Formal dresses, cocktail dresses, dresses you haven’t found shoes and a purse for yet?”

She smiled but was clearly nonplussed. “Yes.”

“And you shipped all this stuff from home? From California?”

“How else was I supposed to get it here?”

“Why?”

“Why what? I can’t wear them if they aren’t here.”

“Why do you even need all this?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Clearly.”

She knew she was being insulted. She bristled like a Chihuahua snapping at a Doberman. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind.”

“No, tell me. What don’t I understand? And what’s it to you anyway?”

“Whoa! Sorry I asked. You can have whatever you want. It’s your stuff.”

She continued to look belligerent until I gestured innocuously at the shoe boxes.

“You want me to put those in the top of the closet too?”

She wasn’t ready to back down but couldn’t find a reason to argue.

“Yes,” she said eventually. “Please.”

I stacked shoe boxes on the shelf below the purses. I silently counted—

twenty-one—but knew better than to make a comment.

The mood between us slowly defrosted.

I helped her hang dress bags—six of them, with several dresses in each—

which filled half the closet. Once again, I kept my comments to myself.

I collapsed the empty cardboard boxes while she unpacked her everyday shoes and lined them along the bottom of the closet. She just kept adding more, from sneakers to loafers to docksides. She even had a couple of pairs of knee-high boots. She had six pairs of jellies alone, almost every color of the rainbow. The girl liked shoes. What could I say?

I managed to compose my expression by the time she finished.

“Thanks for helping.”

“My pleasure.”

“And thanks for letting me have the room with the bigger closet.”

“It was luck,” I said, “but I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I just wish it were bigger.”

I swallowed a laugh.

“What?”

“I don’t hear that very often.”

“Hear wha—? Oh!” Her tan cheeks turned rosy.

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

“Very funny.”

I shrugged, unabashed.

“Speaking of which,” she said after a moment, “how’s Gracie?”

“Fine, I guess.”

“You ‘guess’?”

“Well, yeah. ‘I guess.’ I haven’t talked to her in a while. A couple of months.”

“A couple of months? Some boyfriend you are!”

“What? Why should—? Hold on… Gracie and I broke up. Didn’t Wren tell you?”

“I told her n— Um… I mean, no, she didn’t.”

“It was a while ago. Before the summer. But after you left, I guess.”

“What happened?”

“Long story. We weren’t ‘compatible,’ I guess you’d say.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” She didn’t sound very sorry at all. She must’ve heard it too, because she immediately said, “So I guess you had fun this summer.”

Something about her tone made me frown. “How d’you mean?”

“Nothing. Just that you could date a lot of different girls.”

I heard the euphemism and felt the heat rise in my cheeks. “Is that what you think I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“That I sleep around?”

“You mean you don’t?”

I clamped down on my temper. Then I took a deep breath and let it out slowly through my nose.

Christy practically dared me to say something snide.

“I’d better get back to work,” I said instead. “In my own room.”

I didn’t speak to her the next day. I wasn’t rude about it, but she was persona non grata around me. She had a huge argument with Wren too. Trip and I stayed clear of both of them, which suited me fine.

The following morning I returned from my run to find Christy waiting on the porch. I couldn’t ignore her without being a jerk, so I stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She shifted nervously as I waited.

“I talked to Wren yesterday,” she said at last.

“I heard.” The neighbors probably had too.

“She told me about the summer.”

“What about it?”