Ex and the Single Girl (16 page)

“
Perfect for a summer fling, then.”

“
He
’
s already rejected me once.”

“
He was being a gentleman.”

I cringed. “
I
cried
in bed with him.”

Beauji paused, then started walking again. “
I
’
ll give you that one as a definite mood spoiler, but he seems to like you anyway, so what
’
s the problem?”

I caught up with her and debated answering the question before finally coming out with it. “
Penis Teflon
.”

“
Tell me you
’
re kidding,”
she said. I shook my head.

“
You mean you
’
re going to throw away a perfectly good famous millionaire writer because of
Penis Teflon
? It
’
s imaginary, Portia.”

“
That
’
s easy for you to say,”
I grumbled.

I got a few feet ahead befor
e I realized Beauji had stopped. I turned to face her.

“
What? Your water break or something?”

She stared at me. “
Why? Why would it be any easier for me than it would for you?”

I shrugged, trying to come up with something that wouldn
’
t make me sound stupid
and petty. I couldn
’
t, so I said what I was thinking.

“
Your men stick. Your father stayed. Your boyfriend became your husband and he
’
s still around. You
’
ve got brothers. Me...I
’
m Penis Teflon. If I learned anything from Peter, it
’
s that it
’
s a waste of ene
rgy to invest in a man emotionally.”

She studied me with sharp eyes and crossed her arms over her tremendous belly. “
Well, that
’
s about the stupidest thing I
’
ve ever heard.”

I kicked a stone and sent it flying off the side of the road. “
Thanks for your sup
port.”

“
The truth is better for you than blind support,”
she said, “
and the truth is that you can
’
t know if something
’
s a waste of energy if you
’
ve never tried it.”

“
What
’
s that supposed to mean?”

“
Name a man you
’
ve invested in.”

I stared at her.
Duh.
“
Pet
er.”

“
How? You never brought him home. I never met him. The Mizzes never met him.”

I stared at her. I never invested in Peter? What was she talking about? Of course I invested in Peter.

Didn
’
t I?

“
I slept next to the man for two years.”
My words limped out, lame at the gate.

“
Whatever.”
She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “
Anyone can be roommates.”

“
We were more than roommates.”

“
Did you ever tell him about the Penis Teflon?”
She paused. “
Did you ever tell him that you have this insa
ne idea that every man you ever care about will desert you?”

I stared at her. “
What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

Beauji eyed me for a minute, then gave a brief nod and started down the road again. I looked at my watch and headed after her.

“
Shouldn
’
t we be turning around?”

“
No. It
’
s only two more miles to the Babb farm. Ian can drive us back.”

“
Whoa, whoa, whoa,”
I said, grabbing her by the arm. “
Hold on there, cupcake. What do you think you
’
re doing?”

“
I am not going to sit here and listen
to you ramble on about Penis Teflon for the rest of your damn life,”
she said, jerking her arm out of my grip and pumping down the road. “
You can come with me or you can go home, but I
’
m paying a visit to Mr. Writer Man.”

“
To what exactly do I owe this un
expected
—
and very early
—
pleasure?”

Ian sat down at the kitchen table after supplying us with tea and muffins. His hair was disheveled and his eyes bleary, but he
’
d been awake and writing when we barged in on him, despite the fact that it was 6:45 in the mo
rning.

“
I want to know what your intentions are toward Portia,”
Beauji said. Both of my hands slapped flat against the table.

“
Beauji. Stop.”

Beauji picked off a small chunk of
muffin
and popped it into her mouth. “
What? He
’
s leaving at the end of the summ
er. You two need to shit or get off the pot.”
She waved the muffin at Ian. “
These are very good. Where
’
d you get these?”

Ian rubbed his eyes. “
Um. Sue Ann
’
s Bakery, I believe.”
Beauji nodded, popping another bit in her mouth. “
Sue Ann
’
s? Really? Wow. You k
now, they
’
re right? Everything does taste better in the third trimester. So what
’
s your answer?”

“
Beauji...”
I grumbled.

Ian glanced from me to Beauji, looking heartily confused. “
I apologize. It
’
s early and I haven
’
t gotten much sleep. Did you ask me a qu
estion?”

Beauji motioned toward me. “
Your intentions toward Portia. What are they?”

Ian sat back. He opened his mouth, closed it, and looked at me with a confused smile. Beauji tapped her fingers on the table. “
Come on. I don
’
t have all day. I could go int
o labor at any minute. Tick tock.”

Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god.
I felt a sheet of ice run over my body. Ian rubbed his forehead.

“
Forgive Beauji,”
I said. “
She
’
s temporarily insane. I think it
’
s the pregnancy. The hormones.”
I gave her a hard look. “
Isn
’
t th
at right, Beau?”

Beauji stood up. “
Well, my work here is done. Talk amongst yourselves. I have to go pee.”

Ian stood, motioning toward the hallway. “
It
’
s just down the hall on the left...”

She waved him off. “
I know, I know, I
’
ve been coming out here since
I was a baby.”
She waddled out of the kitchen, leaving the door swinging in her wake.

Ian sat back down. There was a year of excruciating silence packed into about five seconds. I put my face in my hands.

“
I got arrested for running naked on campus once,”
I said. “
Excuse me?”

I pulled my face out of my hands and forced a sardonic smile. “
Just searching for a moment more humiliating than this one.”

He laughed, then leaned forward. “
Look, Portia ..

I stood up. “
Beauji
’
s crazy, and I shouldn
’
t ever have mentioned the hair tucking, so is there any way we can just forget all of this and go on with our lives like none of it ever happened?”

He stood up, too, and took a step toward me. “
The hair tucking?”

“
The hair. Tucking. Ear. Thing.”
I gave a s
harp exhale. He reached over and pushed some hair away from my face and tucked it behind my ear.

“
You mean this?”

I jumped back.

“
Yes. That. Stop doing that, okay?”

His posture straightened and he pulled his hand back. “
I
’
m sorry. I didn
’
t mean to
—”

“
I kno
w, you didn
’
t mean to send me...wrong signals and please understand that I don
’
t mean to send you...wrong signals.”
I pushed my chair in, hoping Beauji had faked the pee and was standing outside the door and would take the sound as a signal to come in and
save me from myself, because I was heading into a full-tilt ramble.

“
I
’
m going through a lot of weird stuff right now. My mother is running around town setting farm animals free like some sort of Greenpeace wacko. My father
—
who abandoned me at the age of t
wo, by the way
—
is coming to town.”

Ian
’
s eyes widened. “
Portia. Christ. Why didn
’
t you mention
—
?”

“
He doesn
’
t want to see me,”
I said, feeling my throat begin to tighten. Ian
’
s eyebrows contorted in concern, and he touched my arm.

“
Are you all right?”

“
I
’
m
fine.”
I held my hand up, gently shrugging off his touch. The last thing I wanted to do was get started on the whole Jack thing. “
It
’
s just that my family is nuts and Beauji is trying to help and I know that, but she
’
s making things worse.”
I took a deep
breath and looked up at him.
Oh, hell. Might as well keep going.
“
You
’
re the only
non-explosive
thing in my life right now. And I don
’
t want anything to mess that up.”

Ian was quiet for a second, then gave a brief nod.

“
I wish you
’
d told me about what was
going on with your father,”
he said.

“
I come here to get away from all that,”
I said quietly.

Ian smiled. “
Good. I
’
m glad coming here makes you feel better. But if you ever need to talk about anything, I want you to know I
’
d be happy to listen.”

“
I know th
at. Thank you.”

Our eyes held. I looked away first.

“
Beauji is usually not this crazy. I mean, she
’
s crazy, but not like this, not like...”
I sighed and put my hand to my forehead. “
I am really, really sorry.”

Ian smiled and rocked back on his heels. “
It
’
s
all right, Portia. It
’
s actually made for a very interesting morning.”
He moved forward, then stopped and placed one hand awkwardly on the back of a kitchen chair. “
I
’
m sorry if I
’
ve been making you uncomfortable.”

I gave him a weak smile. “
You haven
’
t.”

He tucked his hands in his pockets. “
Yes. I have.”

“
No,”
I said, playing with my watch, unable to meet his eye. “
I like it. It
’
s just...”

My eyes darted up and caught on his.

I
’
m afraid. I
’
m going to be alone forever.