Be Good (5 page)

“It was no trouble at all and I wanted to cook for you.”

He smiled and my
withered heart started to blossom. At this rate, my desolate heart would be in full bloom in no time.

“Dig in,” he
encouraged.

I picked up the fork and took a bite of the pancakes. “Del
icious.” They really were good, light and fluffy.

I noticed Brett was just sitting on the edge of the bed watc
hing me eat. I was suddenly self-conscious. “Aren’t you going to have any?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I made it for you.”

“I can’t eat all of this. It’s enough for a small army. Please share it with me.”

He grinned.
“If you insist.”

I noticed he had placed an extra set of cutlery on the tray just in case. That made me smile.

He dug into the other side of the pancakes. “These are pretty good.”

“So you’re a rocket scientist and a chef,” I
teased. “What other hidden talents do you have?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

I felt a twinge of pain when I thought about the night we had spent together. I wished it would have been different and I remembered being with him. I hoped I would get another chance.

I took a bite of the bacon. “Yum, I love bacon.”

“It’s good, isn’t it? I get my meat from a butcher shop instead of the supermarket.”

“Keep doing what you’re doing. This could be the best bacon I’ve ever had.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

The two of us couldn’t eat all the food he’d prepared. I felt stuffed. Brett rose from the bed and picked up the tray. “We’ve got a big day ahead of us
. There are a few special places I want to take you. Wear something warm. We’ll be outside.”

I cringed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I live in Arizona. I don’t have a lot of co
ol weather clothing.”

He grinned. “No problem. You know how much I loved se
eing you in my clothes.”

A short time later, I found myself standing in front of Ga
mble Garden wearing one of Brett’s oversized college sweatshirts. He was wearing one, too. We were both in jeans and sneakers. I always wanted to punch the faces of couples, who wore watching clothes. I thought they were sappy and overly sweet. Now I was one of them.

And it felt kind of nice.

The Gamble Garden was quite lovely and Brett’s whole demeanor shifted a bit as soon as we entered the facility. He was less uptight and actually seemed to be at peace. I wished there was something that brought me that kind of peace, other than alcohol, which wasn’t terribly reliable. Sometimes drinking only brought more heartache.

I was starting to feel some peace
fulness being with Brett. He definitely had a calming effect on me. It was like he was taming the shrew in me.

“The rose garden was recently restored,” Brett said as he grabbed my hand and lead me in that direction. “Roses aren’t my favorite flowers but these are quite nice.”

“Are you going to show me your garden?” I asked as we viewed the roses.

“Of course.
That’s where we’re having dinner tonight.”

Dinner in a garden sounded romantic but Brett had already made it quite clear we weren’t going to have sex.
Bummer. 

“There’s something else I really want to show you
.” Brett pulled me in another direction. “This is Cherry Allee.”

It was a pathway lined with beautiful cherry trees.

“A few weeks ago, they were in blossom,” he
continued. “I’m sorry you missed it. But there’s always next year.”

Next year? Was he already planning that far ahead? I could barely think about what I was doing the next day
and he was already planning for next year?

We looked at the Grotto with its lovely fountain. Brett said it would be good luck to give me a kiss in the Grotto. I had a feeling he made that up just to get a kiss but it didn’t matter. His
kiss was soft and delicious. I liked the way he tasted slightly like spearmint. He told me spearmint was his favorite tea and gum.

“You seem so happy here,” I
observed.

“Gardens always make me happy.
My mother loved them. The best times I remember spending with my mother were helping her in her garden. Unfortunately, after she died, my dad couldn’t or wouldn’t take care of it, so it slowly died after her.”

I
was overcome with sadness as Brett talked about his mom. My mother was still alive and I didn’t care whether I ever saw her again or not. He didn’t have the opportunity to ever see his mom again and he seemed to desperately want to. It was obvious he missed her.

“That’s why I buil
t my own garden in my backyard. And having a backyard is the reason I bought a town house rather than a condo.”

“I love your townhouse. I feel at home there. And there aren’t too many place
s I feel that way.” I didn’t want to admit there was actually
no
place where I felt at home except for Brett’s townhouse.

Brett’s eyes were smiling. “Good, I’m glad. I was hoping you’d like it.” He leaned over and gave me another kiss. Then h
e whispered, “And I was hoping you’d want to spend more time with me there.
Much
more time.”

I gulped
as panic set in. That was the second time he’d hinted at something more serious between us. I didn’t know how to respond. No guy I ever dated (if you could even call it dating, more like hooking up) mentioned a
future
together and I never expected it. Things with Brett were so new to me, and definitely unexpected, but I liked it.

Brett showed me the rest of the garden and told me some interesting things about flowers
—like calla lilies are a symbol of beauty and sunflowers are a token of pure love. Very few things beyond celebrity gossip had ever captured my attention but hearing the enthusiasm in Brett’s voice as he talked about plants actually made me interested in learning more about them.

“I have someplace else to take you,” Brett
walked toward the car. “It’s a place where I spend a lot of time, so I hope you like it as much as I do.”

“I’m sure I will
.” Even though I was never sure about anyone or anything, my curiosity was piqued.

Ou
r next stop was a Farmer’s Market. We had Farmer’s Markets in Phoenix but I had never been to one. The main reason was because I never cooked and had no reason to buy food that wasn’t already prepared and purchased from a drive-through window. Plus, my mother always said Farmer’s Markets were for poor people and refused to set foot near them. Not that she didn’t jump on the health food band wagon occasionally but then she’d shop at trendy yuppie stores like Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s.

Brett looked at me with an odd expression, as if he was trying to read my mind. He did that quite a bit. The scary part was, he was usually able to deduce what I was thinking.

“Ever been to a Farmer’s Market before?” he asked as we hopped out of the car.

“This will be a first for me,” I admitted.

“A Farmer’s Market virgin,” he teased. “I would have never known.”

I had to laugh at that one. “No one has ever put me and vi
rgin in the same sentence.”

T
he Farmer’s Market was huge and a bit overwhelming. The vendors looked much more upscale than I was expecting and based on some of the prices I saw, my mom’s assertion that Farmer’s Markets were for
poor people
was clearly wrong. At least, that wasn’t the case here. I could never afford to shop at a place like that on a regular basis. My budget barely allowed for the dollar meal deals at my favorite fast food joint.

Brett grabbed my hand and pulled me towards a vendor sel
ling fresh seafood. “See anything you like?”

I shrugged. I hated to admit my experience with eating ocean creatures was limited.

“The tilapia looks really good,” Brett said as he pointed to it. So does the salmon. Do you have a preference?”

“
Either sounds great.” Based on my previous experiences with his cooking, I had a feeling anything he made would be wonderful. Not that I was picky. I lived on fast food and often wondered if even calling it
food
was a misnomer.

Brett purchased the
tilapia then he pulled me over to a vegetable vendor. I watched as he carefully inspected each of the vegetables. He even sniffed a few of them. The vendors seemed to recognize him, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, since he said he frequented the place. It didn’t faze me too much until we got to a bakery, where he planned on purchasing a bread loaf to make garlic bread. The look on the Bakery Girl’s face when she saw Brett sent a twinge of jealously through my body. Her plain face immediately lit up when she saw him. She was short but slender and had mousy, shoulder length hair brown hair. The more I looked at her, the more she reminded me of Rebecca “Sweater Vest” Stiller. She was wearing a polo shirt and khaki shorts, definitely preppy, which made me think that she probably also had a sweater vest lurking somewhere in her closet.              

Brett gave me a strange look and I realized I was gripping his hand just a little too tightly. I gave what I knew was a fake smile and loosened my grip a bit. Brett still had concern in his eyes and I knew he’d ask me about it later. I quickly realized he was the type, who talked about things and didn’t let things just slide
, which was definitely not something I was used to. My family members were masters of evasion and silence. We bottled our thoughts and feelings inside and we didn’t express them. And the guys I dated seemed very happy I was the type who didn’t want to discuss everything. My lack of communication was a plus. 

It took a moment for Bakery Girl to register that Brett was holding my hand and when she did, she looked like a balloon that was suddenly deflated.

“Hey, Penny,” Brett said cheerfully. He either hadn’t noticed the change in her demeanor or he was trying to ignore it.

Penny started blinking rapidly as if she was holding back tears. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,”
she managed to mutter as her voice cracked. She definitely had a thing for Brett. I could feel myself gripping his hand even tighter. This time, though, he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

I wasn’t sure if Brett was going to correct Penny and tell her I wasn’t actually his girlfriend
but I didn’t want him to. I had never wanted to be called anyone’s girlfriend before but at that moment, there was nothing I wanted more. I wasn’t sure if it was actually Penny or the fact that she was so much like his ex that bothered me more but I felt insecure and jealous, which were definitely new feelings for me. As sad as it sounds, I had never cared enough about a guy to be concerned if he was with another girl, even right there in front of me. But for some reason the thought of Brett being with anyone else made me sick to my stomach.

“This is Anna,” Brett said in response to Penny. I could feel a pang of disappointment that he didn’t confirm that I was his girlfriend. Not that I actually was his girlfriend but I guess a part of me wanted to be.

I expected Penny to make some kind of snide comment or eye me with disdain, which is what most girls did. (I was, after all, a
slut
.) I was surprised when she just gave a quiet
hi
that seemed laced with sadness.

“The usual?” she
asked Brett.

He shook his head. “I’m making garlic bread tonight.”

Penny swallowed. It seemed to register that Brett was going to be cooking me dinner. She started blinking again, fighting back tears. She quickly turned around.

“I have just the thing,” she mumbled as she grabbed a long loaf of freshly baked bread.
“I think you’ll really like this.” She handed the loaf to Brett.

“How much?”
Brett asked.

“Five dollars
.” I could see she was avoiding eye contact with Brett by looking at the ground.

“Is everything okay,” Brett asked as he handed her the mo
ney. He seemed oblivious to the fact that Penny obviously adored him and that he’d totally crushed her by introducing me to her.

I could see Penny swallow again then she looked up at Brett with wet, puppy dog eyes. “Anna’s beautiful
.” She said it as if I wasn’t even there.

“Thanks,” Brett
replied. He turned and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I think she is, too.”

I could see Penny’s eyes dart to me then back to Brett. I thought she might lose it
, instead she said, “Enjoy the bread,” as her voice cracked again.

Brett just smiled in response as he pulled me
away. “One more stop before we head home.” He pulled me toward a vendor selling fresh cut flowers. He picked out a small bouquet and paid for it. Then he handed it to me.

“A beautiful bouquet for my beautiful woman,” I could feel
my withered heart perk up and glow.