Nappily in Bloom by Trisha R. Thomas

Author:Trisha R. Thomas
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780312557645
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

I had a theory about life: Whatever you might be thinking and feeling, someone else was also thinking and feeling at the exact same time, possibly in the exact same situation. It helped to know this. To know you weren’t alone, you weren’t the only person doing the stupidest thing.

“Listen to this.” We sat in the darkness of the garage. He turned the ignition so the lights of the dash came on. The music was like gliding on air. “I have over ten thousand songs loaded. I bet if you name a song, I’ve got it,” he yelled over the mellow jazz.

I really couldn’t think of anything. “Earth, Wind and Fire,” I mumbled. My body fell into the feather-soft leather seats. I closed my eyes and was ten seconds from falling asleep. If I could hide there for a couple of weeks, I’d be good.

“Reasons” started playing.

For whatever reason, I laughed. He laughed, too.

My phone started vibrating against my body, where I held my purse. I could guess that it was still Airic not giving up without a fight. I was so sick of being in the middle between him and Jake. I didn’t know how long I could honor my husband’s wish for Airic not to pick up Mya. My phone continued to ring in my purse.

Robert Stanton leaned back and started singing the words to the Earth, Wind & Fire song. “This is a good one,” he said when it ended six minutes later. “Songs were long back then. Now, we were lucky to get three minutes of solid music.”

I was hardly listening. The garage was dark except for the light coming off the stereo display.

“It’s Sunday,” he said, still making conversation. “Too bad we only get one a week. Saturdays are all right, but seem to have a honey-do requirement. Sundays are the best. You can just sit back and relax.”

With that, for whatever reason, I welled up underneath my closed lids. He stuck his finger to my cheek and gathered the tear. Which meant his eyes weren’t closed, and he’d been staring at me the entire time.

“Why are you sad?”

“I’m not. I swear. This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time. I’m tired. You can get tired and still be happy.”

“Yeah, I guess you can.”

“Thank you, for the minute of peace. It was nice.” I pushed myself up from the incline of the seat.

“If you ever want to just talk, or relax, you know where to find me.”

“Yep, I sure do.” I said, grabbing for the door handle, which seemed to have disappeared. He reached over me, and I swear I nearly swooned. I inhaled the soft scent of expensive colonge. His cheek conveniently brushed against my chest, and my body jolted. He felt it, too—I saw the satisfaction on his face. I should’ve been flattered as well, but I knew he was only testing me. I’d failed miserably. He pushed the door open, and I staggered to my feet.

The bass and guitar of the current song sailed up and out of the car right along with the mood.

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