Stripped (6 page)

“Do you still work with her?”

“No, she works on another floor.”

“Is she the one you broke up with recently?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure it’s really over?”

“It’s absolutely over. It only lasted a month, and
that was a couple weeks longer than I wanted it to last.”

“What happened?”

“It’s weird talking about this with a woman.”

“Platonic, remember? We’re never going out. Let me
in on the inner workings of the male mind, it may help me someday.”

“Okay,” he said. “She wanted to get married.”

“Oh. And women should never admit that, right?” Abby
teased.

“No, it wasn’t because she wanted to get married in
general. She wanted to marry me, after we went out twice. I already wasn’t
feeling it by then, anyway. We had gone out with a bunch of people from work
one night and this other doctor was hitting on her. Instead of being jealous, I
was hoping he’d take her off my hands.”

“Chris, that feels so good,” Abby said softly. He
had worked his fingers all the way up one of her feet to her toes, which he was
rubbing individually. No one had ever touched her feet before, and she was
surprised at the way the relaxing sensation spread throughout her body. She
also felt an unexpected stirring of arousal from knowing Chris’ hands were on
her. Though she had just reminded him their relationship was platonic, her body
was still aware of how attractive he was.

She had been grinding her hips against men all night
and it had done nothing for her, but this foot massage was awakening feelings
that had been dormant for a long time. As Chris made his way up to her ankle
and then her calf, she gave a low moan of desire. His breath hitched, and he
moved his hands back down to her foot.

He finished with one foot and moved to the other,
and Abby’s relaxation, coupled with her fatigue, made her drift into a light
slumber.

“I’m falling asleep,” she murmured.

“That’s okay. Just relax,” he said. She heard the
buzz of his pager and he paused to look at it.

“You need to go?”

“Yeah,” he said, disappointed.

Abby bundled herself up tightly in her coat,
conscious that she had let her guard down with someone she hardly knew. She said
a quick goodbye and made her way to her car, still thinking about the way
Chris’ hands had felt on her.

Seeing him tonight had been sensual, beyond just the
way he had touched her. Even his voice and the way he’d smiled when their eyes
had met had reached Abby in a way she wasn’t used to.

She tried to shake it off, but the feeling stayed
with her as she burrowed under the covers of her bed. Sleep took her quickly,
but thoughts of Chris still danced in her subconscious.

Sara’s long, sandy brown hair was a near perfect
match for Abby’s. She giggled with excitement as Abby ran a brush through it.
Her hands were wrapped around the sides of the stool she sat on in the center
of the small kitchen.

“Okay, what’ll it be?” Abby asked.

“Braids. Lots of little braids, with rainbow rubber
bands on them. A different color on every one,” Sara said, giddy with her idea.

“That’s gonna take forever,” Audrey said from across
the room.

“We can both braid, it’ll be fine,” Abby said.
Audrey was turning 13 soon, and Abby was starting to get a glimpse of her
newfound moodiness. Audrey rolled her eyes as she crossed the room to help.

“I want to take a picture of yours, Aud,” Abby said,
reaching for her cell phone. Audrey brightened, smiling as she posed to show
off the wavy style Abby had given her straight hair with a curling iron.

“Does this beauty salon do nails, too?” Sara asked.
Her favorite Saturday morning game was “beauty salon”, something all three of
them enjoyed.

“Of course,” Abby said.

“I want blue!” Sara grinned. “No, rainbow – a
different color on every nail.”

“Do we get to do your hair, too?” Audrey asked Abby
as she braided Sara’s hair.

“If you want. Do you guys want to get lunch first?”

“What the hell is this?” Kathy asked as she came
into the kitchen. She had just woken up, still wearing her wrinkled t-shirt and
sweats from the day before. Her hair was matted and in need of washing.

“Beauty salon!” Sara said happily.

“Beauty salon?” Kathy said, disgusted. “Abby, what
are you doing to them?”

“We’re having fun. They like getting their hair and
nails done.” Abby didn’t meet her mother’s eyes, sensing her anger.

“What, they’re not good enough for that high-dollar
salon you go to every week?”

Abby said nothing. She had to go to the salon to
keep up her hair and waxing for the club, but if she pointed that out, Kathy
would pounce on the opportunity to comment on her being a stripper.

“We could do your hair, Mom,” Audrey offered.

“Hell, no,” Kathy scoffed. “My hair’s fine like it
is. And yours is, too. I don’t want you two becoming whores like your sister.”

“What’s a whore?” Sara asked innocently. Abby shot
her mother a look.

“It’s a woman who sells herself to men,” Kathy said.
“They’re too stupid to make money any other way.”

Audrey’s face dropped as she sighed, and Abby hated
her mother in that moment. She didn’t care what she thought of her, but
influencing Sara and Audrey to think less of her hurt.

“Abby’s not stupid,” Sara said. “She helps me with
my homework, and I always get all the answers right when she does.”

“You’ll see,” Kathy said, shaking her head as she
reached for a soda in the refrigerator and left the room.

The girls’ happiness went with her, and Abby and
Audrey braided in silence. Abby wondered, as she often did, how it was possible
the three of them were Kathy’s daughters. They were different from her in every
way.

Abby craned to look out the edge of the living room
curtains as she waited for Chris to pick her up. It wasn’t a date, but it felt
like one, and she had never been on the sort of date someone picked her up for.

“Why do you keep looking out the window?” Audrey
asked.

“Just looking for my ride.”

“I want to see him.”

“Am I supposed to let him walk up to the door?” Abby
wondered out loud.

“Yes. That’s what everyone on TV does,” Audrey said
authoritatively.

“Hmm.”

“I think that’s him! It’s a dark car,” Audrey said,
looking out the front window.

“Don’t pull the curtains back! Just answer the door
for me, okay?” Abby said, walking toward the bathroom to look herself over one
more time.

She was concerned her jeans, tall brown leather
boots and sweater wrap were too casual. What if they were going to a fancy
place? She should have asked Chris, she thought again as she touched up her
lipstick. Her hair was loose past her shoulders in big waves, and she pushed
her fingers into the roots to make it look bigger.

“Abby!” Audrey called in a singsong tone. “Your date
is here!”

Abby rolled her eyes at the mirror as she pushed her
hair back down again. She took a deep breath as she left the bathroom.

“Hey,” Chris said, smiling. Abby couldn’t believe he
was standing in her living room. The Greek God was
right next
to her
old, worn out flowered sofa.

“Hi,” she said, relieved to see his faded jeans and
casual, button-down shirt. “Are you ready to go?”

“Sure. Nice to meet you, Audrey,” he said, raising
his hand high on the doorframe so Abby could duck under it as he held it open.

“In bed by nine,” Abby turned around and told
Audrey.

Chris opened the passenger door to his car and Abby
smelled his cologne as she got in. She didn’t recognize the woodsy, masculine
scent, which surprised her. She smelled so many different colognes when giving
lap dances that she thought she knew them all.

“Do you like Italian food?” Chris asked.

“Sure, I can find something I like just about
anywhere.”

“I made us a reservation at a new place I heard was
good.”

“Dave Matthews?” Abby said, smiling at the song
playing low from Chris’ iPod on the car’s stereo.

“One of my favorites,” he said.

“Me, too.”

Abby watched the houses passing by through her
window. She was warm with happiness at how normal it felt to be going out for
dinner with a friend. It didn’t hurt that her friend was dead sexy.

“How’s your Mom doing?” Chris asked.

“Okay. Back to her usual cantankerous self.”

“Is she hard to get along with?”

“That’s an understatement. She’s out of the sleeping
medication and she’s been hounding me to get her more.”

“She shouldn’t need more.”

“I know. But drug addicts can never get enough.”

“You have a lot to deal with for a 24-year-old,”
Chris said as he pulled into the packed parking lot of the small restaurant.

“Things are so much more stable now than they used
to be. I’m in a good place.”

The restaurant smelled of fresh baked bread and
sautéed garlic, and Abby liked it immediately. It was dimly lit, with candles
on every table and soft music in the background.

“Would you like wine?” Chris asked as they sat down.
The server gave him a look that said she was about to ask that herself.

“Just water,” Abby said.

“Same for me,” Chris said.

“It smells divine in here,” Abby said, closing her
eyes.

“I know. I’m a fiend for carbs, too. I love pasta.
Are you going to be able to find something that works? I know you’re careful
with your diet, I shouldn’t have picked an Italian place.”

“They have fish and salad. This place is perfect.”

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Chris asked, folding
his menu closed.

“What, you want the lap dance now?”

A slight flush colored Chris’ cheeks as he laughed.

“Well, maybe not
right
now,” he said. “You
said in the car that things are more stable than they used to be. What did you
mean?”

“Oh,” Abby said, looking away. “Like I told you the
other day, my Mom got started on drugs when she was with Tim, her second
husband.”

“What was that like for you?”

Abby shrugged uncomfortably.

“I try not to think about it anymore. There were
times they’d be so strung out that Justin and I would go around to the
neighbors’ houses asking for food. We had no idea what to do for Sara and
Audrey, but we learned. And when they were out of drugs and had no money, they
fought. They would scream and break things and beat the shit out of each other.”

“And you were the oldest, so you must have felt like
you had to look out for the other kids.”

“Yeah,” Abby said, looking down at the white fabric
tablecloth. “We all shared a room, and I’d tell them to hide under their beds
during the fighting, and I would close the door and sit in front of it. Like I
could have kept them out if I’d needed to.”

Chris watched her intently and Abby smiled
uncomfortably.

“Were you ever abused?” he asked softly. Abby sighed
and met his eyes.

“I feel like you’re trying to determine how messed
up I am,” she said.

“No, I’m sorry. No. I just want to understand you. I
can already see you have a lot of walls up, Abby. You’re defensive.”

“I feel like you and I are from two different
worlds. You should be having dinner with someone who likes fashion and sailing
instead of me.”

“Don’t assume I’m a snob because I’m a doctor,”
Chris said with a smile. Abby looked away, feeling admonished. She knew what it
was like to be judged unfairly.

“Why don’t you tell me about your family?” she said.

“I don’t see much of my parents. They fly in every
few months for a day or two.”

“Tell me about them.”

“My Dad’s a good guy, but kind of a workaholic. He
was born here, but his parents are from France. Even though he comes from
money, he’s pretty down to earth. My Mom…I don’t know. We have a hard time
relating to each other, I guess. We had a falling out a long time ago and I
never got over it. And she’s disappointed in my career choice.”

“Disappointed you’re a doctor?” Abby asked, unable
to hide her disbelief.

“Yeah. In the world my parents live in, doctors make
shit money. They wanted me to go into business, but it never interested me. It
took my Mom a long time to recover from the shock of the news that I wanted to
be a doctor, but then she decided I could become a plastic surgeon or a cardiac
surgeon. She cried when I told her I was going into emergency medicine.”

The waitress looked tentatively at them, as though she
didn’t want to interrupt their conversation, and Abby waved her over. After
they ordered, she listened to Chris talk about growing up in Germany, South
Africa and England. He was fascinating to her: funny, sweet and unassuming. And
as the candle on the table flickered shadows onto his face, she couldn’t help
thinking about how attractive he was, too. The waves of his dark blond hair
were combed back, but a lock that had escaped hung over his forehead.