Josh and Gemma the Second Time Around by Sarah Ready

Author:Sarah Ready [Ready, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Swift & Lewis Publishing LLC

18

My mom and I spent two hours at a lingerie boutique on the Lower East Side, and by the time we finished shopping I was both starving and ready to get back to Josh.

It wasn’t as awkward as I thought it’d be helping my mom find nighties, thongs, and lacey bras.

My mom and I even had a good laugh at the mannequins ironically posed in overtly sexual positions around the shop. At least, I hope they were ironically posed that way.

We’re back now. I hold up my hand to wave goodbye as my mom pulls out of her parking spot and heads home. Her brake lights glow red at the stop sign and then she turns, disappearing into the steady stream of traffic.

I breathe in the humid evening air filled with exhaust and the smell of hot brownstone and concrete. Car horns honk a few blocks away. They’re such a constant soundtrack that I only notice them when I concentrate on the noise.

I shift the bags in my arms. I have a discreet bag filled with tissue paper from the lingerie shop. I couldn’t help joining in my mom’s enthusiasm for all things lacey and see-through. I also have a plastic takeout bag that’s so full of food, the handles are leaving red indents in the skin of my wrists.

I don’t feel great about the way that Josh and I left things tonight. Honestly, I don’t feel great about how things have been since I woke up.

Tonight, I’m going to start fixing them.

I hitch up the bags and hurry into the apartment. The soothing colors and the quiet greet me. I shut the front door and block out all the horns, traffic and noises of the city.

Josh is on the couch in the living room, a sketchpad in his lap. He has a pencil behind his ear and an art pen in his hand.

When I close the door behind me, he stiffens, but keeps drawing for a few seconds before looking up.

“Hey,” he says, smiling hesitantly. That hesitant smile, it feels like the Grand Canyon opening up between us.

He carefully sets the drawing pad on the couch next to him and stands. “You have fun?”

“Yeah. A lot of fun.”

“Good.” He puts his hands behind his back and nods, waiting for me to say more.

I look around the living room. It’s clean, all the baby stuff is put away and I don’t see Hope.

“Did you put Hope to bed?”

“About thirty minutes ago,” he says in a stilted, awkward way that he’s never had with me. Jeez. Jeez.

“What are you up to?” I ask, hoping to break the itchy, uncomfortable tightness arching between us.

He looks back to the sketchpad, and his expression lightens a bit and his shoulders relax.

“I’m working on a new concept. I’m swamped during the day working on the spinoff of Grim with the studio, busy as all get out. But the whole thing is creativity by committee. It’s frustrating and stifling and frankly working that way is as fun as running a cheese grater over your balls.

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