Slim Chance (23 page)

“No, no, no. We absolutely cannot be friends.”

“Oh.” This was a bit confusing. “What then?”

He thought carefully for a moment or two, then said, “For today, how about lovers? If you’re up for it.”

“Are you asking me to…to…”

“Sure. Why not? Just this once, though.”

This was very unlike Bruce. Very blunt. Reckless, almost. I liked it.

“It is
so
not us to do something like this.”

“Exactly,” he said, getting up from the table and extending his hand for me to take.

“Now?” I asked, half panicked. I was wearing horrible cotton granny underwear.

“Now,” he said.

We didn’t do it right there on the kitchen floor, or anything like that. And we made it to the bedroom without tearing each other’s clothes off. That wasn’t what it was about. Kissing him was familiar and sweet, but it was also strange and exciting, like we both knew it was probably a better idea not to. And for the first time in years, it was truly amazing. Really wild. And totally intense.

Afterward, we talked like it was no big deal. In situations such
as these, most girls know that mature, post-coital banter is essential in order to offset any accidental impressions of neediness.

“What was
that
about?” I asked, fanning my face with my hand. All guys like being complimented after sex, and he definitely deserved it this time (
Cosmopolitan,
March: “5 Politically Incorrect Ways to a Man’s Heart”).

“You complaining?” He still seemed a bit bewildered.

“No! God, no. But you’re like a new man!”

“No I’m not, Evie.”

“Say what you want, but I’m telling you, that was something else.”

“I know. I was here, remember?”

“I’ll never forget it.”

“Stop it. You’re being an idiot. What am I going to do with you?”

I fluffed my pillow and snuggled back down under the covers. “Just ignore me,” I said.

“That’s not so easy. You always seem to be around.”

“You can tease me as much as you like. I don’t care. And I may not know exactly how you feel about me these days, but one thing’s for sure—you’re still pretty hung up on my family. You can’t get enough of us. Admit it.”

He pushed me away. “Well, your mother’s a much better cook than you ever were.”

“Too bad you lost out on all that when you dumped me. A lifetime of lasagna, and you gave it all up…”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so—she brings me food every Sunday!”

“She does not!” I gasped.

“Go look in the freezer. There’s turkey for Monday, cannelloni for Tuesday, meatballs for Wednesday…”

“Unbelievable. She’s unbelievable.”

“Don’t you dare tell her to stop! I’ll never forgive you,” he said.

“It isn’t fair, Bruce. You’re giving her false hope.” I was hop
ing he’d say something like, “No, I’m not—there’s still a chance for us, Evie. Can’t you feel it?” But he didn’t.

“I probably should try to back off a bit,” he agreed instead.
Damn.
“But all the cooking aside, they’ve both been great to me, Claire and your mom. Claire, especially. Really supportive. How can I tell her I don’t want to talk to her anymore? She’s my pal.”

“She’s always adored you,” I said. All of Bruce’s grandparents were dead, so he’d sort of adopted Claire in that sense.

“You know, I don’t really mind the blond so much,” he said, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “It suits you in a weird way. And it kind of makes me feel like I’m lying here with a stranger.”

“I’m changing it back. I just haven’t bothered yet.”

“Really?” he sounded surprised. “But what about the new you?”

I sighed. “The new me got old.”

“Yeah, I figured that might happen,” he said, moving a bit closer. “So I guess I better take advantage of you now, Blondie, before the Old Evie shows up again.”

“I’m starting to hope they’re both gone for good,” I said.

“You
didn’t,
” Morgan said.

“It’s no big deal,” I told her.

“Were you overwhelmed with grief or something? Was he comforting you?”

“No, it wasn’t like that.”

She shook her head. “But Bruce so always does the right thing, and that was definitely the wrong thing. He’s too level-headed for ex-sex.”

“Ex-sex?”

“You know—well, I guess you don’t, actually. It happens when you’ve forgotten all the reasons you broke up in the first place, or pretend you don’t care, just to indulge in one last romp in the hay to get it out of your system.”

“I don’t think it was like that for us.”

“Of course it was. Think of it as a much nicer way to say
goodbye than all the horrible things you probably said to each other when you broke up. If I’ve done it once I’ve done it a thousand times. Well…not that many exactly, but you get my point.” She lowered her voice and said, “Two weeks after I told Peter that I couldn’t see him anymore, we did it once, just for old times’ sake.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

“What? Just because I’m toying with the idea of monogamy doesn’t mean I can’t fall off the wagon once or twice. And I haven’t touched him since.” She paused thoughtfully. “But he’s been in Singapore for a month.”

“But you and Peter were just about sex,” I reminded her. “Mine and Bruce’s relationship had nothing to do with sex. Wait… That’s not what I meant…. What I mean is, for me, not being with him is like saying goodbye to the biggest part of my life. And I’m ready to deal with that. If that’s the way it has to be, then I can learn to handle it,” I said, hoping that saying it out loud would somehow make it true. “Only now, I can’t help but think it’s sort of the same way for him, too.”

“Evie, it’s different for guys,” she pleaded. “He probably wasn’t thinking about all that. He just wanted to get laid. Ex-sex. You see?”

“You don’t get it. He’s far too cerebral not to consider the consequences of his actions, regardless of what’s going on in his pants. I know this doesn’t mean we’re getting back together tomorrow or anything like that, it’s just that I know he’d be super-careful about making sure he didn’t give me the wrong impression. And he speaks to my mother all the time. She still cooks for him, for God’s sake! He’s not exactly cutting all ties—”

“But he’s been getting on with things, with that chick,” she interrupted.

“This has nothing to do with Daphne. It has to do with us. Me and him. That’s it… But if you must know, he did mention that he and Daphne are just good friends for now. And no, I didn’t ask him if he slept with her, because I’m trying to avoid
that whole psycho ex-girlfriend thing, but I’m almost a hundred percent positive he didn’t.”

Morgan made an If-You-Believe-That-Then-You’re-Even-More-Deluded-Than-I-Thought face. But she didn’t know Bruce the way I did.

“Look, ex-sex or not, I know it was weird of him to initiate it, but I think he just wanted to be in control for a change. And all I’m saying is that if we were drawn to each other and we both let it happen, then isn’t it possible that there might be some sort of future for us someday?”

“No way! It’s about nostalgia, plain and simple.”

An emotional Popsicle like Morgan might never have the capacity to understand a thing as complicated and delicate as my relationship with Bruce.

Since I feared that hounding Bruce after our little tryst might scare him off, I resolved not to call him until I had something new to say. Which is why I was so relieved when I finally found a job a couple of weeks later. Not a very good one, but one that’ll get me through until I find something respectable. So as of next Monday—instead of enjoying the first day of my honeymoon as originally planned—I would officially begin my tenure as the new In-House Director of Marketing and Communications at…oh, God…Casella Computers. Technically, I’m the only one in the department, but the title works for me.

It was all I could get without a reference, since I obviously couldn’t give out Pruscilla’s name. And although they don’t pay for employees’ gym memberships, the insurance package, which kicks in after three months, will reimburse me for up to eighty percent of my therapy costs. Which is a good thing, since it looks like Dr. Shloff and I will be getting to know each other pretty well.

Bruce was very happy for me when I filled him in on things, although Mom had probably told him everything already. Still, he listened politely to all the details, and even said that he’d like
to take me out to celebrate. Instead of sounding too eager and pressuring him into setting a date, I casually told him to give me a call when he had a free evening. It was brilliant.

But Morgan was somewhat less receptive. She thought it was a terrible idea for me to get a job through Albert, although I thought I heard a hint of relief in her voice.

“I’ll be out of your hair before you know it!”

“Yeah, that’s great, Evie. But don’t take a shitty job on my account—I don’t care if you stay for another six years.”

“I can just see it…you, me and Billy, living happily ever after.”

“Joke all you want, I know you’d love that—you’d get to see him in his boxers all the time, you’d accidentally walk in on him in the shower in the mornings….”

“Shut up!” I shrieked. She was still convinced that I wanted him. But I had no interest in another woman’s man. Except maybe Daphne’s.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much….” she laughed. “Don’t worry, Evie. Billy and I aren’t setting a date any time soon—we plan to have a really long engagement. I think that’s enough for now.”

“That’s absurd. What’s the point if you don’t plan to get married?” I said, wishing I’d thought of that last year.

“We’re still working out all the kinks,” she explained.

“I know, my bedroom is right next to yours….”

“You’re a pig. I could leave the door open, if you want to steal a peek.”

“No thanks.”

“Just let me know if you change your mind,” she said, and I think she meant it. “So, not that I want you to leave, but when can I tell Billy we’ll be putting the whips and chains back in your bedroom?” she asked. “He’s missed them so.”

“After a paycheck or two.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing. I can’t imagine working for my mother’s husband.”

“That’s because he’s a carpenter. Or he used to be, anyway. Look, Morgan, it’s not like I have much of a choice—I can’t be dependent on Claire forever. I’m almost twenty-eight, for God’s sake. And I won’t be working for Albert, by the way. His son was the one who hired me.”

“As a favor to Albert,” she added.

“You make it sound awful, but it isn’t. They were looking for someone anyway. It’s a growing company. There are lots of flyers to coordinate. And a catalog, too.”

Morgan yawned. I guess it did sound a little drab.

“At least I won’t ever have to see Albert,” I said. “When I told Mom she could set up the interview for me, I only agreed to it on that condition. He’s in Queens. I’ll be at the Manhattan branch—the flagship store!”

“Oooh. The
flagship
store! Sounds fantastic,” she said. “Can you do my toes for me?”

“Give it a rest, will you? There are some decent perks, like it’s not far from your office. So we’ll be able to have lots of extra-long lunches! And since I came clean about the fact that I don’t know a thing about computers, they already know not to expect great things. Not right away, at least.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought of everything,” she said grumpily.

“Why do you care so much?”

“I think you can do better.”

“Morgan, I can’t find anything better right now, unless you want to hire me.”

“Are you kidding? I’d
never
hire you. You’re far too much of a slacker. And judging from your track record, you’re not good with numbers either, especially those with a dollar sign in front of them.”

“You see? Plus, I don’t have any references. I’d be better off telling people I’ve been in jail for the last three years than giving out Pruscilla’s number.”

“I guess. Now will you do my toes?”

“Sure. Get me the polish.”

She jumped up excitedly and returned with a bottle of blood-red Chanel. “You do them almost as well as my girl,” she said. “Maybe you should go to pedicure school or something. That would be a good career for you.”

“Your toes are one thing,” I said. “But touching a complete stranger’s feet? I don’t think so. I’m okay with this job, Morgan. Don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so. But promise me you’ll quit if it sucks.”

“Of course I will. Do you think I’d do something I hate?”

She glared at me.

“Kendra White was different,” I explained. “I was personally involved.”

“You hated it from the beginning,” she said.

“Well I won’t hate this. It’ll be great…sort of like being my own boss! And if it doesn’t work out, I can always get a job dancing topless or something. I don’t think you need references for that.”

“Oh, I assure you, you do,” Morgan said.

“The only problem with this job is that I don’t have a single decent outfit to wear, now that I’ve completely let myself go….”

“Tell me you’re not serious,” she moaned. “Maybe we should give the nude dancing some more thought.
Please.
NO more shopping.”

“What? I think it’s a good thing. Better than starving myself to fit into the clothes I already have. It’ll be fine—it’s not like I have any credit cards anymore, and I won’t use any of Claire’s money for this. I’ll wait till I get my first paycheck and just pick up a few things.”

Dr. Shloff thinks my spending habits are far less troubling than my weight issues, and I agree. Provided I don’t get too out of control, we feel it’s in my psychological interest to spend a few bucks on clothes rather than succumb to that whole crash-and-burn diet and exercise cycle again. She’s assured me that as soon
as I learn to feed my emotional needs in other ways—a breakthrough which might be just around the corner—then I’ll stop gaining weight.

“I’m going to look at this as a sign of my progress,” I told her.

“How so?”

“Well, that I’m ready to shop…it must mean I’m feeling like myself again.”

“God help us all,” she said.