Lex (Unconventional Hearts) (4 page)

My mom, Faith, is a hardworking woman, has
been since I can remember. Probably where I get my strong work
ethic from, because let’s face it; it’s not from my dad, whom I
haven’t seen or heard of in over twelve years. I’ll tell you more
about that later. Anyhow, downtown here in Heartfair, my mother
owns and runs a flower shop. She bought it when we moved here
twelve years ago and it’s very popular, because of her ability to
create one of a kind arrangements. Now, going with the strange
theme of this town, can you guess what her shop is called? Faith’s
Flower Shoppe. It’s a Heartfair thing. I find it charming. I’m sure
many others find us kooky. But I must say, anything is better than
where I lived before moving to Heartfair.

Reaching over to my nightstand, I steal my
cell phone and pull it to my face. My eyes are so tired I can’t see
straight. Blinking a few times, I’m finally able to focus and I
shut down its incessant beeping. I know it’s Saturday and that it’s
seven a.m. I always get up at six on the weekdays and seven on the
weekends. It’s routine, and I do it so I can wake up and do yoga. I
rarely sway from my routine.

Gruffly rolling out of my queen sized pillow
top, I fold the ivory duvet back into place. And precisely position
each of my eight pillows where they belong.

Weekend routine commencing - bed done.

Next - disrobe, use the potty, brush my teeth
and hair, redress, then, on to yoga. Which is down the hall. It has
pale green walls, an oversized yoga mat, a large three foot bronze
Buddha in the corner that weights a ton. Not literally, but he’s
over three hundred pounds. I had three men lugging that giant thing
up my stairs a few months back. The room is even complete with its
own Zen altar, which is a brown table set with aromatherapy
candles, a small bonsai tree and a Zen sand garden. Along one whole
wall is bamboo that nearly reaches the ceiling and in the middle of
the bamboo wall is a large hexagon stone fountain. Serene is the
one word that comes to mind when I think of that room. It’s amazing
and worth every penny.

Raising my arms in the air, I lift off my
delicate pink satin gown over my head and gently fold it. Placing
it on top of my dark brown eight-drawer dresser, which matches my
sleigh bed and curved nightstands down to a T. My floor is the same
wood I have throughout my house, smooth and flawless. Linens of
gold and ivory decorate my bed, along with gold sconces on my
plaster ivory walls and a golden crystal chandelier hanging from my
inlayed-coffered ceiling. The large area rug adds a sense of warmth
with its gold, ivory and red hues. I have an entire wall of windows
hung with heavy dark brown swags. I love my bedroom. It gives off a
sense of comfort and sophistication, which is exactly what I look
for in a bedroom.

Entering the en suite bathroom, I’m startled
when I hear Roni yelling. “Lex! Lex! Are you awake?”

What kind of alternate reality did I wake up
in? I’m the one who doesn’t want to get up because I’m tired and
Roni is awake at seven. It’s a miracle and something’s utterly
wrong with this picture.

“Lex!” she yells again, I can hear her voice
coming closer so she must have already made her way up the
stairs.

“I’m naked, Veronica. What do you want? And
more importantly, you do realize it’s the weekend and that it’s
seven in the morning.” I call back to her, standing in the doorway
between my bed and bath.

My bedroom door flies open and standing there
is a rather angry Roni, wearing smiley face pj bottoms and an
uglier than sin green camouflage t-shirt. All the short auburn hair
atop her head is a disaster. Roni is a pretty girl, a few inches
shorter than I am, body curvier and slightly fuller than mine. She
has large purplish blue eyes, and petite lips to go with her
perfect nose. Except she hides all of that hot body and beauty
under a mountain of clothes too big, no makeup, and on an occasion,
she actually styles her hair. Roni reminds me a lot of Hayden
Penettiere when she had short hair, except Roni’s has freckles and
dark red hair. Which is all-natural. I couldn’t get her to dye it
to save her life.

Standing in my birthday suit, Roni doesn’t
bat an eyelash. We’ve seen each other nude a million times since
high school. It’s not a big deal.

“Can I help you?”

She’s frozen, staring at me, her chest rising
and falling, heaving for breath. Something has her all in a huff on
this beautiful spring morning.

“Your mother came to my apartment this
morning to deliver two sets of flowers. Except they’re not for me,
they’re for you. They had the address wrong, so now I have two huge
bouquets from two different men sitting in your kitchen, on the
table. Would you care to explain?” Tapping her foot, she sets her
hand on her waist, lips drawn into a taut but cute line that I
can’t help but smile at.

“It’s not funny, Lex. You give me shit about
having you set up that account and now a Donald and a Corey are
sending you flowers. Not cool amigo. Not cool at all.”

“Donald is the guy from the meeting last
Monday. This is the fourth bouquet from this week. Apparently not
getting a response when he sent them to the office he decided to
deliver them to my residence. I can’t control that. And I ran into
Corey on that site. It’s high school Corey, you know who I’m
talking about, and we’re having lunch today. I didn’t tell you
because I know you well enough to know you’ll be getting your hopes
up for nothing. I’m not marrying the man, not that I could if I
wanted to.”

I’m certain that explanation sufficed because
her shoulders visibly relax and she loses the grim expression,
replacing it with a tiny smile.

“Good, okay, do your yoga, I’ll make some tea
and meet you downstairs in an hour. Sorry, you know I hate flowers
and
being woken up. Evidently Mom decided she hasn’t gotten
that memo the past ten plus years. You’d think since we’ve been
best friends forever, she’d have thought to
not
wake grumpy
Veronica up.”

Chuckling, I walk over and pull her into a
hug. Turning her into a stiff board, she’s not comfortable with
affection, but deals with it only if it’s coming from me, my mother
and possibly Bob. I have no idea; I haven’t seen them two together.
They spend most of their personal time alone in her apartment. I
know what they’re doing. Occasionally she forgets she’s left a
window open and being the screamer I know she is, I get to hear the
entire show, play-by-play. Including and not limited to; multiple
orgasms, dirty talk and sometimes gaging. I don’t know what that
means. I don’t want to know. So I don’t ask. Her sex life is hers
and hers alone. Now, when it comes to mine, she thinks she should
have all the say and control it. However, I have other plans.

Releasing her from her hug, Roni
uncomfortably dismisses herself from my bedroom and I shut the door
behind her.

“How was yoga?” Roni asks sitting at my table
in the same clothes she left my bedroom wearing.

“Great as usual.” I reply, taking a seat
across from her at the breakfast table and my tea is ready and our
newest biscotti flavor is sitting on my pretty plates. Lemon,
blueberry, almond biscotti, I picked them up from Barbie’s Bakery
yesterday during lunch. When you think of Barbie, you think of
dolls, and pink, or that’s what I think of. Barbie’s Bakery sits
three shops down from my mom’s on Paramour Avenue. Which by the way
is the worst name, in the history of names, to call the main street
that runs through the middle of our small city.

Any who, back to what I was saying. Barbie’s
Bakery is a confectionary and dough haven, the entire shop looks
like it was plucked right out of the fifties. Big glass display
cases, bright pink walls, black rotating stools sit at a six person
ice-cream bar. It is by far the most adorable store in all of
Heartfair. Plus, like Dolly, Barbie the owner is the sweetest
woman. She and Dolly are best friends, and have been since high
school. How sweet is that?

“So, other than Corey, have you decided on a
date with anyone else from that site?” I can tell Roni is treading
lightly. Normally she’s more forward and jerkish about stuff like
this.

“No, I have no interest.” I’m firm with my
answer, even though I’m not being entirely truthful. The Suit
Master has sort of been on my mind a lot. After receiving two more
emails from him this week. That were just as eloquent, funny and
well versed as the first one. I’ve been hard pressed to find a
reason not to reply.

Time for a subject change, no more about Lex,
how about we talk about Roni, that is sure to make her even more
uncomfortable.

“So, Roni, how are you and the
hunk-of-burnin’ love from Auto’s doing?” I ask, placing my orange
infused tea to my lips. Mmmm, this is delicious. Who am I kidding?
All tea is delicious. Some people are coffee addicts. I’m a tea
addict.

Crinkling her cute nose, she swirls her spoon
in her tea staring into it, like it’s going to give her the answer
to my question.

“Well…” I press a little further.

“I’m not sure. Only been dating a few weeks
and he wants it to be
more
than what it is. And you know me,
I don’t do
more
.” Her tone suggests she’s not so sure if she
wants what she refers to as ‘more’ or not. Normally I’d say no. But
normally her boy-toys typically stick around a week or two, tops.
Bob, on the other hand, is closing in on a month. Which tells me
she’s not bored yet.

“Are you telling me a man can stand you for a
month
and
wants to have more than hot kinky sex with you?” I
giggle at my sarcasm and Roni looks up from her tea, glaring at me,
and throws half-eaten biscotti at my head. I duck to the side and
it flies past me, hitting the wall and ending up on the floor.

“Fuck you.”

Well, alrighty then. I love you too.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like him, Miss Sassy
Britches. Give him a date or two and then see if he can still stand
you, your ugly clothes and vibrant, loving, personality.”
Apparently, I’m dripping with sarcasm today. Must be this weird
morning I’ve had thus far. I fell out of dandayamana-janushirasana
pose today, which I’ve not done in two years. Something is off with
me and I don’t know what.

“Oh, fuck you, Lex. We are so busy with
Keagan Cosmetics and Creams, and I have no desire to ever marry,
have children or even a dog for that matter. I’m twenty eight, I
like sex, beer, cars, and if I had a penis, I’d probably be happier
than bleeding every month.”

No, she wouldn’t. Being a woman is awesome.
Why would she ever want to trade that is beyond me.

“Calm down, I love you; I’m just saying Bob
might be the right guy. He’s busy too, he’s older, sexy, doesn’t
have kids or a dog. He obviously likes sex as much as you do and he
just wants a little more, maybe to go to dinners with. I don’t see
the auto mechanic asking you to doll yourself up or be something
you’re not. Take it for what it is and give him what he wants, or
let him go. I don’t understand why it’s imperative for me to date
and find someone. All the while, my best friend just wants a damn
booty call. Wake up and smell the roses, Roni, what’s good for the
goose had better be good for the gander. So, if your butt wants me
to date, you will have to put in the effort and do just the same.
Got me?” Woo-hoo, I’m a roll today!

Nodding as if she agrees, I get up and sit my
mug in the sink. Now it’s time to get dolled up to go out with
Corey.

Chapter Five

Agreeing to meet Corey in Lords at Buckeye’s
Tavern for lunch and a drink at one. I’m running on time and just
pulling up when I see Corey standing outside the taverns metal
front door. He’s wearing a light blue polo shirt that highlights
his blonde hair and piercing blue eyes perfectly. The rest of his
large muscular body is clad in khaki pants and brown loafers. He’s
very handsome.

Sliding out of the Jag, my heels nosily
‘click, click, click’ on the blacktop on my way to greet him by the
door. Corey turns his head my direction as I’m about half way to
him. As soon as he realizes it’s me, his eyes widen and his juicy
man lips pull into a dazzling toothy smile. Causing my heart to
skip a beat and I lose my breath. Wow, he’s as gorgeous as I
remember. The hungry monster between my legs agrees with that
observation as well. Not sure if this is a good or a bad sign.
Maybe I should have listened to my mom and worn something less
tight or revealing. I’d hate for a wet stain to magically appear at
the bottom of my dress. That would be unbelievably embarrassing to
the hundredth degree.

Today, just before I drove here, I stopped
and visited my beautiful mom at her shop. As soon as I set foot in
the door, it clanked annoyingly, alerting her that she had a
customer. Once she saw it was me, she swooped in for a hug. My mom
gives the best hugs on this planet. I know a lot of kids might say
that, but in this case, it’s true.