Waking Up With You (20 page)

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Authors: Sofie Hartwell

BOOK: Waking Up With You
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He finally gets out of bed after an hour. “I’m gonna take a quick shower,” he says as he gives me a kiss on the cheek. I’m still prostrate on the bed, with the blanket covering my lower half. I feel enervated, but in a good way. In the silence, his cell phone beeps. A text message at seven in the morning?

I’m curious, but I chastise myself for not respecting his privacy.
Emma, you don’t have to know everything.
Then an image comes to mind. I have not given her a thought for three days now. I am wallowing in the security that sex brings. I look to see if the bathroom door is closed. I quickly press the home button. My heart skips a beat.

See you Tuesday 11 AM at Beverly Hills

It was only a matter of time.

Like a child who has been given free rein over candy, I now find the jar lid shut tight.

CHAPTER 14

“How’s Aspen?”

“It sucked big time.” Paige says in her usual straightforward manner.

“Sucked?…Are you back?” I excitedly ask.

“Yup! We Murphys have developed a new habit of cutting short our vacations.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t have fun. But I’m glad you’re back.”

“Why? Did anything happen while I was gone? What happened at the party? You never even sent me photos.” She sounds miffed.

“Nothing much happened. I left my phone at home so I was unable to take any pictures.” Suddenly, I want to keep the last few days a secret from Paige.

“That’s it. No details? Sounds like you’re keeping something from me.”

“Really nothing much to share.”

“Fine. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.” I’m relieved that she’s letting it go. “Well, are you brave enough to do some last minute-shopping?”

“Aren’t you already done with your Christmas shopping?” I counter.

“There’s always someone you miss, Em.” As she says this, I gasp, since I remember that I have nothing to give Jake. Oh God… I know I’ve been purposely delaying finding a gift for him because it’s so hard to find something for someone who has everything. “Whom did you forget?” Paige asks.

“No one.” Before she can bamboozle me into revealing my thoughts, I quickly ask, “Will you pick me up or will I drive?”

“I’ll drive. I’ll be there in half an hour,” she says.

“Okay. See you later.”

I’ve had to change my mind two million times about Jake’s gift. My ideas are too boring, too stupid, or too outrageous. Since the Christmas party, my mind has been centered only on one thing. I’ve been too busy reliving our intimate moments together. I’m officially addicted to my husband. One look at Jake and my heart does somersaults. He smiles and I’m putty in his hands. I want to spend every available moment with him and, when he’s not by my side, nothing feels right.

Anyway, Paige must have some internal radar or something. Today is Monday, and I need to get my mind off his date with Christina tomorrow. Jake is in Orange County again, helping with some last minute changes at the exhibit area. Ever since I read the text message, I’ve been going out of my mind. I can’t ask Jake because then he would know I’m a snoop. Maybe there’s really no need to talk to him, because only an idiot wouldn’t understand what’s going on.

He wants me, but his heart still belongs to Christina – that’s what’s obviously going on. Yet, we’ve been sleeping together ever since the party, and spending all this time together, but I don’t detect any changes in his behavior. Does he perhaps think that I should automatically know my place in this bizarre arrangement? Does Christina have an open relationship with him? Do I even want to be the third wheel in all of this? Is he just waiting for the time when he’ll tire of me? My head is aching from all the unanswered questions. How ironic that even though I’m his wife, I must now be silent like a mistress.

All things will come to a head one day. Of that I am certain.

***

True to her word, Paige has managed to fill up one hand with shopping bags from several stores at the Galleria. I, on the other hand, go into stores and leave empty-handed, rejecting every item I see. Jake doesn’t need another article of clothing, electronics, or what not. That’s definitely a no to the dual-node percussion manager and automated tie rack. Don’t even get me started on the ridiculous three wheel skates and horn drinking vessel. Nothing is obviously good enough for him.

“Earth to Emma.”

We’re walking side-by-side on the crowded aisles of the shopping mall. I’m so deep in thought that Paige startles me.

“What?”

She scowls at me. “Seriously, it feels like I’m shopping by myself.”

“Sorry, Paige. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?”

“You know… this and that.”

Her eyebrow lifts in an exaggerated manner. “Oh… this and that,” she says sarcastically.

“Oh, give me a break.”

“No, I won’t. Are you a stranger wearing the mask of my best friend’s beautiful face?”

“Paige, I don’t wanna do this now.” My tone is firm.

She looks at me sideways and then sighs. “Em, I’ll let it go if you swear to tell me when the time is right.” I nod and we continue to walk.

After some time, I tell her, “Paige, it’s useless. There’s nothing for me to buy here. If you’re done, let’s just go home and hang out.”

“Okay. I’m done. Who are you trying to buy a present for anyway?”

I refuse to look at her, and don’t say anything.

“Nooo, you haven’t bought your husband a gift?”

“Don’t judge. It’s really very hard to find him the perfect gift.”

“No, I get you. I’m sure it is, but what have you been doing all this time?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to think about it. It’s my first Christmas gift, and I couldn’t …I can’t think of anything.”

“Okay, no need to panic. It’s only the twenty-second?” She says this like a question and not a statement.

“Let’s just go home, please,” I whisper.

We go straight to the parking lot. I know Paige is being unusually patient with me, but I can’t be thinking about Jake’s gift right now. I keep thinking about tomorrow and the days to come. We drive back to Burbank in silence.

As we turn on Victory Place, I see the sign for the Animal Shelter. My mind flashes back to more than thirteen years ago. Our neighbor, Mr. Lucas had just passed away, and his widow was moving to Florida. She asked Charlie if he wanted to take care of their dog, Biscuit. Charlie readily agreed. For some reason, we’d never had a dog for a pet. We had iguanas, hamsters, cats, and even a snake once, but Biscuit was our first dog. And he was the most adorable Jack Russell terrier. He was also smart, and really scrappy. When Jake heard the news, he rushed to our house. His foster mom didn’t allow him to have pets, so he was excited to share ownership with Charlie and me. The two of them got busy teaching Biscuit new tricks and playing doggy treat-hunt around the house. I was only five, so I played fetch with him and had the best task of all – giving him a bath in the tub. We all loved Biscuit but, three years later, he passed away, and we never had the heart to get another dog. By then, Charlie and Jake were off to college anyway.

“Paige, stop the car!”

“What?!” When my words finally sink in, she steps on the brakes and gives me an angry look. “Em, what’s going on? I almost hit the car in front of me.”

“I’m sorry. Can you possibly turn into the parking lot of the shelter?”

“What are we doing there?”

“I’m getting Jake a dog.” I look at her with a ‘don’t you dare say anything’ look, and she makes a right to get into the parking lot.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” She asks me, a little fearful of my reaction.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, for starters, the two of you are hardly at home. You’re at school and he’s at work.”

“That’s not true. I’m home before 5. I’ll feed him in the morning and when I come home. I’ll go home for lunch instead of eating at the school cafeteria. I’m pretty sure Jake will love having a dog. The three of us had a dog when I was six. That was the first time they let me into their little club of two.”

Paige still looks unconvinced, but she doesn’t say anything else.

“He’ll love having a dog. I just know it. We can train it during the holidays.” I take her hand and we proceed to the front office.

“Hi! May I help you?” A smiling clerk greets us as we enter the building.

“Uhm, I’d like to adopt a dog,” I say without preamble.

“Then you came to the right place.” She cheerfully shoves a thick sheaf of papers in front of me. “These are the standard forms and questionnaires for you to fill out so we can help you find the right dog.

I take the pen and papers and start filling them out. Paige, in the meantime, is interested in reading the dozens of pamphlets. “Really?” I ask point-blank.

“What? Maybe I’ll get one someday.” She bristles at my look of doubt. “I could, you know,” she repeats, as if insulted by my unspoken words.

The clerk, whose name is Susan, approaches me to find out if I’m done with the paperwork. I give her the forms and, as she peruses them, I take a look around, reading the posters and looking at the photographs of happy, grateful owners with their dogs from the shelter.

Susan says, “ It says here that you would prefer a small to medium-sized breed. Any specific breed?”

“Well, I was thinking more along the lines of Jack Russell terriers, or something similar. I guess I’ll know when I see it.” My response isn’t exactly helpful, but I really don’t know what else to say. Choosing a dog is not like choosing a dress. Or maybe it is. Hmmm.

Susan nods her head. “So, nothing specific. You just want to look at a couple of dogs first and then take it from there?”

“Yup. That sounds about right.”

“We don’t have any Jack Russell terriers. We have a Norfolk terrier and a Scottish one. There are other small breeds. Most of them are mutts. We actually just got in some new ones. Would you like to come with me to take a look?

I nod my head at Paige and I follow her to the kennels where dogs are housed behind fencing. There is so much racket with the barking and howling. The smaller dogs are together, forced to socialize because of their size. There are three or four really cute dogs, but they seem to be the wrong type for Jake. At the very last crate is a black, brown, and white mongrel, probably part terrier and part beagle, judging by its long, floppy ears, and sturdy, compact body. I bend down and put my hand close to it, and she starts to sniff and then lick. Ahh! She likes me. I move my hand back and forth and she follows my hand. She seems like a sociable dog.

I look up at Paige, as if to ask her “What do you think?” and she shrugs her shoulders and says, “The dog seems to be friendly. I don’t know.” She shrugs her shoulders again. “Only you can find the right fit.”

There’s really no science to choosing a dog. I think it’s mostly instinctive. I ask Susan if I can have ten minutes of alone time with the dog. She unlocks the gate and the dog wags its tail like crazy. This dog is so cute and approachable. We go to a private room and I bend down to pick her up. She immediately goes into my arms and I rub the top of her head to see her comfort level. She enjoys the petting, and I find my heart melting at the thought of having this little creature around the house.

We go out of the room and a 5-year-old girl with braids sees the dog. She touches her fur and the dog quietly lets her. “Cool dog,” she says to me. I smile. “Sure is,” I agree wholeheartedly.

I go to Paige and tell her, “She’s the one.”

“I kind of predicted you’d say that.”

“Well, look at this gentle, beautiful face,” I say while touching her jaw and moving her head side to side. “How can anyone not fall in love with her?”

Paige rolls her eyes and says, “Indeed, how can anyone not?” I slap her playfully and we go out to the front office to fill out some more paperwork.

***

Paige and I are in stitches as the new dog carries her chew toy, running back and forth across the house. It’s like watching a dog on some imaginary treadmill. We marvel at her friskiness and boundless energy while entertaining herself.

We got her a bag of goodies at the pet store before coming home. We also had to get her a crate to reduce her separation anxiety when we leave the house. If only I could be at home all day long.

I’m teaching the dog how to sit when I hear a car coming up the driveway.

“It’s Jake. Stall while I put a ribbon around the dog,” I instruct Paige.

“Fine. I haven’t seen the man in ages, but now I’m supposed to hold him back while he enters his own castle. Whatever,” Paige says wryly.

I hurriedly carry the dog to my bedroom and tie on a giant red sash around her neck. The door is half open, so I can hear Paige.

“Hi Jake. Long time, no see.”

“Paige! What a pleasant surprise. How come you ladies never hang around here?”

“Blame it on Emma. She seems to think that you’d rather not have any visitors hanging around.”

“Did she really say that?” His tone seems anxious.

“Of course not! I’m just messing with you,” Paige says with a laugh. “We really are both very busy and when we do hang out, it’s at Ona’s or over at my place.”

“Paige, this is your home, too. Never forget that,” he says in a sincere tone.

“Thanks, Jake. I have a feeling we’ll be hanging around here more often now.”

“Why is that?

“Oh, you’ll know soon enough.”

I guess that’s my cue to bring out the dog.

“Merry Christmas!” I say shyly to him while I hand over the dog with her large bow.

The look on his face is priceless. I can clearly see his expression of joyful surprise. He comes close to me to put his arm around me.

“Do you like her?” I ask.

“Do you have to ask?” he says with a smile. “No one can top this gift,” he whispers into my ear. At this very minute, I realize how much I love this man. His happiness has now become the most important thing to me.

We both realize that Paige is there to witness our little private moment, so we give her sheepish looks. Characteristically, she says, “Don’t mind me. I’m fascinated by this tender scene.”

We both laugh and then Jake goes down on his knees to play with the puppy.

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