Cheating on Myself (30 page)

Lily cut me off to say, “Took you long enough. Here’s what bothers me: How could you possibly have had sex with that guy again? Was he really good enough in bed that you were desperate to go back for more? Erik doesn’t strike me as a stallion. He’s less Patrick Swayze in
Dirty Dancing
, more Lloyd Dobbler from
Say Anything
.”

“What’s wrong with Lloyd Dobbler? He was a nice guy! See, this is what’s wrong with your taste in men… Lloyd Dobbler is classic romance, the perfect guy. Patrick Swayze was a man-whore in
Dirty Dancing
. Also, he had a mullet.”

“Lloyd Dobbler is
fine
,” Lily sighed. “But the point is, no one fantasizes about sex with Lloyd Dobbler. The guy’s name is Lloyd. Lloyd is like Erik and his pleated khaki pants… seriously, who fantasizes about one last quickie with a guy who wears pleated pants?”

“Okay, so I
eventually
made the right choice, but now that Erik is out of my life for good, it’s hard to figure out what to do with myself. The Internet dating and the stuff with Joe…” I took a breath and pushed around the pile of apples, hoping Lily wouldn’t ask about Joe again. I was trying not to think about him. Trying not to wonder what might have happened if things had gone differently. Trying not to remember that afternoon in Iowa. Trying not to remember how I’d told him off, and how he’d come to sing for Pippa anyway. “I guess it just feels like I was practicing being an adult for the past few months. But now the game has started—the whistle blew, so to speak, and I’m not sure what position I’m supposed to be playing.”

Lily stared at me, open-mouthed. “If you’re going to keep talking like this, with those stupid metaphors and self-help language, I’m cracking a bottle of wine.”

“It’s eleven in the morning.”

“Some people are driven to drink at eleven in the morning. Specifically, people who are friends with self-help authors.”

“You’d like self-help. It’s a big industry, you know. There’s money in it.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Are you ever going to bake that crisp? I’m hungry.”

As I piled the apples into a baking dish and sprinkled the crumbles of butter and sugar over the top, I thought about the past week. After I’d walked away from Erik in the hospital, I’d felt at peace almost immediately. In many ways, life was better than it was the first time I’d left him, since I knew now that I could truly move on. As much as I had absolutely believed I was ready to move on when I first left Erik, the finality of that last goodbye felt completely different.

The first time I’d left, it had been—in large part—a response to Erik’s actions. This time, I’d walked away because I firmly believed I would be happier without him. I wasn’t leaving because he wouldn’t commit, but because I didn’t want him to anymore. It was liberating to be free, but also somewhat lonely. I knew there was something better out there for me, but I still had to figure out how to get to it.

“Have you talked to him at all?” Lily asked, settling into the couch.

“No, not to Erik directly. Laurel has called every day, though. Aren’t I lucky?”

“I think you’ve actually started to like her,” Lily said, putting her feet up on the coffee table. “I bet you’d be a little disappointed if she didn’t pester you from time to time.”

“Yeah, she’s not bad. But she’s been calling because she still insists I join her for this Foodie Network segment. I sort of feel like I have to—it’s almost impossible to tell her no, even though she has no hold over me. She’s very convincing.”

“Erik obviously got it from someone,” Lily said, closing her eyes. “You’re your own woman now. Don’t do anything she tells you to do if you don’t want to do it.”

“I won’t,” I said, but knew that was easier said than done. “Obviously.”

“Yeah, there are a lot of things that are obvious, but you have trouble seeing them sometimes.” She peeked at me from one half-opened eye.

“You’re not really one to talk,” I said, and glared back at her. “Anyway, it’s easier to deal with Laurel now that I’m not constantly worried about how much insight she has into my sex life. I always vaguely suspected Erik confided just a little too much in his mother. She would look at me, like—” I made a puckered face, and Lily laughed.

As I was sliding the crisp in the oven, I heard a key in the lock and jumped.

Anders peeked his head in the front door, and looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him. “Oh, hey, Stella.” He grinned at me, then at Lily. “I forgot I stole your key that, um, that day you, ah… Well, anyway, here it is—back to you! I was just bringing it back to you.”

I looked from Anders to Lily and back again. I had a hunch Anders and Lily had been spending a lot more time together while I’d been out of the house. They’d always been close friends, of course, but there was something about the way I’d noticed them acting around one another since I’d moved back home that felt different. There was a new level of respect, and a little less snarkiness. But neither one of them had said anything about it, so I wasn’t going to bring it up yet. I loved the idea of them finding each other, and I had a feeling if I pushed too soon, it would crumble.

“Want some crisp?” Lily offered, scooting over on the couch so Anders could sit next to her. I admired the way Lily was always so comfortable around Anders, so sure of herself. I hoped she would have the opportunity to love someone who would cherish her and help her see herself as beautiful and amazing. She needed a sexy Lloyd Dobbler. Someone who wouldn’t make her fret over bra lines or uneven breasts. “Stay and hang out. Stella’s baking.”

“Actually, I’m supposed to be
teaching
, but Lily is a horrible student. This is worse than cooking with Laurel. She’s bossy, but at least she participates.”

“I’m a great director, but a terrible doer. I don’t like to get all wrapped up in the details. Details bore me. I have different talents—marketing bath tissue and toothbrushes to the masses, for one. Want some coffee?” She grinned at Anders, then turned to me with a firm expression and a cold voice. “Stella would be happy to get it for you. Thank you, dear.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” I grumbled, filling a cup of coffee for Anders. “I’m only pouring this cup of coffee because it’s for Anders.
Not
because you ordered me to. I don’t do your bidding, Lily Sparrow. Hardcore Lily may scare some people, but she doesn’t scare me.”

“Hardcore Lily is hot,” Anders said, settling back against the couch to watch the drama unfold. “I’d like to see you boss Stella around some more. You’re sort of sexy when you go all executive, Lil.”

I’d heard Anders say things like this to Lily before, but not with the same earnest tone of voice he’d just used. It didn’t sound like banter, it sounded real. Slightly creepy, but very real.

She beamed. “Sexy, huh?”

“Very.” They stared at each other, and I suddenly felt like I was watching something I wasn’t supposed to see.

“Well, then,” I began to gather my things. “I guess I should go. I was going to go for a run, or do some laundry, or something.”

“Your crisp…” Lily said, vaguely pointing to the oven. “Don’t you want some crisp?”

“You guys can eat it. You made it, after all.”

* * *

A week or so later, just before Christmas, Cat, Anders, Lily, and I sat in the living room at Cat’s house, drinking wine after the girls had gone to bed. We had moved our drinks night to Cat’s house so she wouldn’t have to leave Pippa, who had finally come home from the hospital.

Pip was feeling better, but still had momentary flashes of bad memories and dreams after the accident, so Cat was understandably reluctant to leave her. She also wanted to be near Heidi and Travis—they all sort of marched around the house in a pack, cuddling each other in the most adorable way. The accident had obviously pulled them all even closer together. Cat had gigglingly confessed that she and Trav had finally started to sleep together again, even. A few good things had come of the accident.

“Let’s all discuss the elephant in the room,” Lily said, dumping the rest of the contents of the wine bottle into her glass. She was drinking “Italian-style,” as she called it, using a big water glass to drink her adult beverage, rather than a proper wine glass. “We’re all together, and I think enough time has passed that we can finally discuss it.”

“And that is?” Anders said, touching his fingers to Lily’s knee. I averted my eyes. Every time Anders touched Lily, I cracked up. I’m not sure why—it wasn’t really funny, exactly—but I could not wrap my brain around the fact that they were dating (or whatever you would call it) now. They still hadn’t
exactly
confessed to anything happening between them, but I’d seen the change in the way they related to each other—the touching was a fairly overt sign—and I knew it was just a matter of time before they’d come out with it. Lily had broken things off with Chad, and hadn’t seen Brad since our disastrous date with the dead fish. “Which elephant?”

“Stella’s sex life, moving forward.” She lifted her eyebrows at me. “So? Let’s talk.”

“I’d say the larger elephant is sitting on Anders’ fingers, right there on your knee.” Cat pointed and giggled, which made me feel a little better about my own reaction. “Is there a little sumpin-sumpin happening here?” Cat hadn’t witnessed the shift in how Lily and Anders been acting around one another—for her, seeing them touch was obviously somewhat shocking. “Give me the deets!”

Anders started to pull his fingers away from Lily’s leg, but Lily dragged them back.

“Perhaps something
is
happening here,” she said grinning. “However, I have a tendency to screw up every relationship, so I’d rather not talk about it.” She looked at us haughtily, but it was hard to take her seriously with a water glass full of wine squeezed between her knees.

Cat and I
oohed
in unison.

“Lily keeping quiet?” I asked, realizing Anders was squirming on the couch beside her. “You know the less you say, the more we’ll press.”

“How about you give us a few weeks to see how badly we’re going to fuck this up, and then you can ‘press’ all you want?” Anders pleaded. Lily smirked, aware that because Anders had been the one to ask, we’d probably comply. He had a way of making things sound so reasonable that only a real asshole would pester him after he asked us to lay off.

“Sounds fair,” I said.

Cat agreed. “Just please don’t fuck it up,” she pleaded. “With you guys, it’s a little harder for Stella and I to pick sides if you get twitchy around each other.”

“They’re already twitchy around each other,” I told her. “Look how Anders’ hand keeps jumping on and off her knee.” Cat and I leaned against each other and laughed. “He’s nervous. Aw.” I guess I was the asshole who felt compelled to push.

“This means you’re the only one of us not getting any now, Stella.” Lily beamed, clearly proud of her ability to turn the tables on me. “Unless you are…?”

“Things have been pretty quiet at our house,” Anders announced. “No scarves or bras—or overalls—on the door. Where is our friend Joe?”

I took a big swig of wine. “I told you. We broke up. Over.”

“That was temporary,” Cat said. “Right?”

“No, it was real,” I said pitifully. “It’s a problem that he makes a habit of sleeping with married women.” I’d spent the last few weeks convincing myself I’d done the right thing when I’d walked away from Joe. After all, he was a player who had no interest in committing. He had probably broken up families… families just like Cat’s. “Besides, I don’t really want to be the idiot who falls for a stupid musician who’s doing groupies in the back of the band van.”

“Is that what he does?” Cat looked abashed.

“I don’t know,” I muttered. “Probably.”

“Probably?” Lily laughed. “Maybe so, but I doubt it. They don’t even
have
a band van. And anyway, Joe’s a really nice guy. I thought you were having fun with him.”

“He’s a nice guy because he’s busy trying to get in women’s pants.” My friends didn’t look convinced, so I continued. I spoke aloud all of the excuses I’d given myself for why I couldn’t call him again. “For one thing, he’s in a children’s band. If that weren’t bad enough, he also makes a habit of sleeping with the adoring mothers who come to his shows. I actually do have hopes of maybe, someday, finding someone who makes me happy and wants to spend his life with me, and I know Banjo Boy Joe just isn’t going to be that guy.”

I heard myself saying aloud all the things I’d told myself over and over again, every time I began to fantasize about Joe or thought about that day in the car on our way to Iowa.

“He’s already been divorced once, and now he’s just trying to have a good time. He’s hot, and funny, and incredibly charming… and that’s why he’s trouble. I know you all think I need to have a fling or two, but Joe’s not going to be it. I need to be more responsible with my time.”

My friends stared at me with matching smiles on their faces.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Did you at least sleep with him before you said bye-bye?” Cat asked.

“Or did you
love
him too much to fuck him?” Lily teased.

“You guys are getting all junior high on me. We went out on, like, seven dates. You could hardly call it love. Lust, maybe. But yeah, I really liked him. A lot.” I felt myself starting to flush, and wished I could trick my friends into talking about something else. Every time I thought about Joe, I missed him. I regretted being so rude to him when he’d been nothing but gracious with me, and I wished it had ended differently. Not that it would have ended with us riding off into the sunset together, but maybe it could have ended with a little sex? Just a tiny bit, so I could have seen what it was like to feel those thighs on mine. “And no, we never did sleep together, to answer that classy question.”

“You can’t stop thinking about him,” Anders announced. “Let’s not kid ourselves that you’re not thinking about him right now.”

“I’m thinking about him right now because we’re talking about him.” I polished off my wine in three huge gulps, and felt myself opening up as the buzz crept in. “But yeah, I still think about him a lot. I wish I hadn’t told him off so definitively, but I did, and I need to stick by it.” My resolve was crumbling, but I went on. “It’s over. I have principles.”