Blue Colla Make Ya Holla (50 page)

“We didn’t have sex.”

“Ah, so this is your way of working off the horny. Poor Meredith.”

“Shut up,” I mutter. “He’s picking me up for dinner.”

Bethany sits on an exercise ball and drinks her coffee. “Winston sure aged well. I saw Tyler Parker the other day. He’s lost all his hair and looks about seven months pregnant. Winston actually looks better than in high school. Rougher, sexier.”

I narrow my eyes at my slutty sister. “Back off.”

“I don’t want your sloppy seconds.”

“Liar,” I say, grinning. “You always liked Winston. I saw you flirting with him in the hallways, but he blew you off and hooked up with me. Still hurts, doesn’t it?”

Bethany raises her middle finger, sending me into hysterics. I stop the Stairmaster and sit on the ground where I laugh and laugh until she walks out in mock outrage. I find her sitting at the kitchen table, middle finger still upright.

“Sorry, but normally men drool over you. Jamie Winston was the one time a guy wanted me more. Let me have this win.”

Bethany lowers her finger. “So very true.”

I join her at the table with my cup of coffee. “He was sweet this morning. I’d forgotten how gentle he could be. I only remembered the naughtier parts.”

“Naughty? I’ll let that go since you’ve been married to a walking coma patient for so long. So if you didn’t fuck, did you at least squeeze his tight ass?”’

“I can’t really remember. Sorry.”

“No worries, big sis. You’ll tell me all the
naughty
details tomorrow. I can’t wait to hear them either. Not after ten years of listening to you talk about Sandy Snooze.”

“Stop mentioning Sandy. I’m trying to fantasize here.”

Bethany nods. “My apologies. What will you wear tonight? Something sexy hopefully. He saw you half-naked last night and couldn’t get enough. Don’t dress like his grandma or he’ll lose interest.”

“I don’t dress like anyone’s grandma. I simply choose not to dress like a hooker like you, so I appear matronly in comparison.”

Bethany taps my cup with hers. “True again. I like how smart you are today. Winston is clearly a good influence. Don’t blow it.”

“I have no expectations. Until last night, I figured he was married with a few kids. Now we’re going to dinner. Whatever happens will happen.”

“Don’t pretend to be spontaneous. You can’t sell the lie.”

“I’m trying something new.”

“I will pray hard for you not to fail.”

“Stop being a pest and help me pick something nice to wear tonight. I want to look attractive, but classier than last night. I don’t want Winston thinking I’m you.”

“After seeing all of your accent pillows, there’s no way he’ll think you’re me.”

I set down my cup and stand. “Stop insulting me and drive me to the mall to find something to wear.”

“Shopping?” Bethany cries, her smirk gone. “Finally, something we can agree on.”

With my sister’s help, I search for a new dress for this fresh start in my life. Jamie Winston is exactly the type of man who can shake me out of the tedium of ten years with the most boring man alive.

Winston

Chemistry

‡

E
ven after I
arrive at Mom’s house for Sunday brunch, Meredith is all I can think about. My nieces and nephews are loud as usual. Screaming at each other and occasionally just screaming to be heard over the other screams, they’re a wild bunch. I hear none of it. My mind is on Meredith watching me from her front porch.

Mom stands in the kitchen, surrounded by her daughter-in-laws. They’re drinking orange juices spiked with vodka. I hear them laughing over the kids’ screaming. Based on the sly look on her face, Mom is sharing something dirty. Call her grandma day and night, but never call her domesticated.

My brothers Kemp and Boyle sit next to me, watching the Cowboys play. We aren’t big into football. We’re more baseball guys really, but on Sundays, we sit here while the kids scream and the women laugh. It’s our routine and we fall into it easily.

“Saw Meredith Gordon last night,” I say, during a commercial break.

Boyle shoves nachos into his mouth then asks, “How’d she look? I saw Misty Robbies at Vitelli’s Bakery the other day and…”

“What were you doing at Vitelli’s?” Kemp interrupts.

“It’s Heather. With this baby, she craves onion bagels constantly and Vitelli’s has the best.”

My sister-in-law is a lapsed Catholic, but she insists her former faith has nothing to do with why she pops kids out every two years. The current bun in the oven is number six.

“So what about Misty?” I ask when my brother focuses too long on his nachos.

“Oh, she’d gone on some health food kick. Lost a bunch of weight and looked scary skinny. Her head was huge on her tiny neck. Freaky shit women are into these days.”

“Meredith looks great. Sexy as hell and she’s a shrink now. Can you believe that? Listening to people whine all day. I don’t know how she does it, but I bet she does it fucking great.”

Kemp laughs. “You’re in heat, bro. Can smell you from here.”

When I frown at Boyle laughing next to me, he says, “Meredith was a nice girl. She helped me with math once. Her sister was nice too.
Very generous
.”

I roll my eyes. “Shut up. You’re ruining my good mood.”

“Sorry, bitch. So is Meredith single?”

“We’re going to dinner tonight. She got divorced not long ago. Timing is perfect.”

“You’ll be the rebound.”

“If I want. If I want to be the guy then I’ll be the guy. I have a perfect out.”

“How do you figure?”

“If I want Meredith for the long haul, I’ll make it happen. Don’t doubt chemistry.”

“Sure.”

“What if she thinks you’re just a rebound guy?” Kemp asks. “I always assumed those Gordon girls would grow up to be suburban bitches.”

“Watch the language!” Mira yells over the kids’ screaming.

Kemp waves back at his wife without looking at her. I think about his question then shrug.

“Meredith does something to me. I have that kind of power over her too. When chemistry kicks in, well, I don’t think anyone will have any say in the matter.”

“Wonder what the shrink will think about that?” Boyle mutters before shushing us when the game returns.

No matter what my brothers think, Meredith and I are wired to work. Her boring husband left her bored.
Big shock.
My wild women left me broke and sporting a head wound. I need a change. Meredith does too. Now we have our shot and I never lose when the prize is so perfect.

Meredith

Orange Makes Me Bold

‡

M
y favorite color
is orange, yet I fear its vibrancy. I’m not a bold person and only have a few orange accent pillows on a loveseat in the unused living room. As a big believer in the beauty of beige, Sandy insisted we keep things a nice neutral. The orange pillows were my only act of defiance.

Now I stand in an orange sundress and pumps, looking as bold as a raging August sun.

“Winston’s going to eat you alive,” Bethany says, taking a picture on her phone. “Zulma will want to see you decked out.”

I twirl for the picture before checking my hair again.

“You look great, Meredith. Just don’t act like a shrink. Be the way you are with me and Zulma.”

“Arrogant and distant?”

“Well that, but also sweet and irresistible.”

“I’m really nervous and I’m not sure why. He saw me hung over this morning. I looked like crap and my breath was deadly. I look like a supermodel compared to how hideous I was this morning.”

“So very true. I mean, you were pretty hideous when I showed up this morning and you’d taken a shower and brushed your teeth by then. I can’t even imagine the horror he woke up to.”

“You’re not helping.”

Bethany grins. “Winston is a real man, not some prissy bitch like you. He doesn’t care about messy hair or stinky breath. He’s thinking about pussy.”

“I feel better now.”

“I thought that would help,” Bethany laughs, patting my shoulder. “You look sexy and you’re an ace at lying. So, so good at lying. It’s scary how well you lie. Anyhoo, he’ll be all over you by dessert then you’ll come back here and come and come again. Most importantly, I will pick you up in the morning and drive you to work, so you can tell me all the dirty details. You’ll tell me again at lunch with Zulma. We’ll expect a play by play. Possibly drawings.”

I laugh. “That’ll be my favorite part. I have a special talent for drawing cock.”

Grabbing her bag, Bethany shivers. “I love when you talk like a tramp.”

“Thanks for shopping with me. I hope the Dentist likes the edible panties you bought.”

Bethany pauses at the door. “I’ll know he loves me when the Dentist eats something sticky and sugary at my command. Oh, and doesn’t brush and floss immediately afterward.”

“And I’ll know you love him when you stop referring to him as the Dentist.”

“Be bad, sis.”

Smiling, I watch Bethany stroll to her Dodge Durango. She screeches out of the driveway just to upset my neighbors. I close the door then open it again because the empty house bothers me.

My mind is on adopting a pet when Winston’s silver Ford truck pulls into the spot Bethany vacated. Running my fingers through my hair, I’m nervous to the point of needing to use the bathroom.
When did I get a nervous bladder?

Winston looks too good to be real and I’m struck with a strong urge to shut the door on him. I can’t be with this man. Not after a decade with Sandy Moon. I’ve lost whatever cool I possessed in high school. I should date the mumbling guy from the coffee shop. Winston is too damn intoxicating in his jeans and black buttoned shirt. I’m not sure I can handle such a sexy beast.

“Meredith,” is all he says before wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer for a kiss.

No need to play games or put on fronts, Winston kisses me and I melt. Leaning into him, I ache to feel this way forever. Safe, yet electric. Hungry, yet satisfied. Winston is addictive.

“I thought about you all damn day,” he says, still holding me. “You ready to head out?”

I nod, unable to speak. All I do many days is talk until my voice drives me nuts. Other times, I want to say a million things, but keep my mouth shut so my patients can talk. Tonight, I can’t think of a single thing to say. I’m simply amazed to be in Winston’s arms after so many years.

Once in his truck, I regain the ability to speak. “Last night is a blur,” I say as he pulls the truck out of the driveway. “I don’t remember much. I think we danced and I might have thought you were a stripper.”

“Yes, Woody.”

We share a grin. “I just don’t remember anything important, so forgive me if I ask questions you’ve already answered.”

Winston smirks. “You’re nervous. It’s adorable.”

I can’t stop myself from rolling my eyes. Crossing my arms, I ignore his grin. This plan lasts until his hand reaches over and strokes my knee.

“Sorry you married a douche, Meredith. I can see how dating a real man would be scary.”

“It really is,” I say, patting his hand.

“I’m not looking to party. Last night you were drunk and very willing. I didn’t do anything besides drive you home. I might not look like a good guy, but I am. You can relax.”

I struggle not to laugh in a stupid schoolgirl way. For the rest of the drive, my hand remains on his, which still rests on my knee.

The restaurant is packed, so we wait outside for his name to be called. I try to play coy, swinging my dress a bit. Winston will have none of it. He’s hungry and I’m dinner.

“You smell so good,” he says, nuzzling his lips against my throat. “Like a damn fruit basket.”

Even as I laugh, my body goes soft. All except my nipples. Hard little nubs now, they strain against my dress.

“You smell good too,” I mumble, unable to think when my body is in control. “I wish we were alone.”

Winston kisses me and I don’t think of the people around us. Not tonight with Winston who only sees me. Whenever I feel guilty for such a public display, I remind myself how quickly things end in life. Winston was sweet to me for a single week then gone from my life. I thought I’d never see him again. Now he’s all I can taste.