Be Good (7 page)

“I thought I wasn’t a rebound girl.” I knew I wasn’t being nice but at the moment I was too hurt to stop myself.

“I told you you’re not and I meant it.”

“That’s not what it looks like,” I spat. “Your room is filled with her. At least I understand now why you didn’t want me to see it. I’m going upstairs.”

I turned and marched out. I noticed Brett didn’t try to stop me. I ran as fast as I could to the guest bedroom and just got the door shut before I broke down sobbing. I had cried more since I’d been with Brett than I had in the previous ten years.
Obviously one of the disadvantages of my withered heart coming back to life.

Most of me was glad Brett hadn’t followed me but a small part of wished he had. I wanted Prince Charming and the fairy tale
but unfortunately, I didn’t recall there ever being any slutty Princesses.

I didn’t get much sleep. I debated packing up my stuff and leaving but I really didn’t want to. As angry and hurt as I was, I still wanted things to work out with Brett. I just didn’t know how I would ever compete with someone like Sweater Vest. Even if they weren’t still together, just the memory of
what had been was probably better than me in some respects. It made me wonder why she let Brett go. They were both young. Maybe she realized she wasn’t ready to settle down. She still had a few wild oats to sew. Although, after seeing so many photos of her, she didn’t look like she had a wild bone in her body. She truly was the complete opposite of me in every way possible. That brought another lump to my throat. Maybe I really was just the rebound girl and Brett was just too much of a gentleman to admit it.

***

“So, where are we headed today?” I asked Brett as he pulled out of his driveway. Brett had been quiet all morning and I was trying everything I could to ease the uncomfortable tension between us.

“It’s a surprise
.” He didn’t elaborate.

I wasn’t much for surprises. The few times my parents su
rprised me it was to send me to a new counselor and I always went alone. That was because I was the broken one who they believed needed fixing. What would have been a real surprise was if they ever volunteered to go to counseling with me.

When
ever a guy said he had a surprise for me, it was usually some kinky sex thing he wanted to try.

Yeah, I really didn’t like surprises.

***

When we arrived at
Filoli, my jaw dropped. The magnificent gardens and estate home rivaled the most beautiful of Hollywood mansions. 

“What do you think,” Brett asked me as he grabbed my hand and
laced our fingers. “Do you like it?”

“I don’t like it
. I love it. This place is amazing.”

“I’ve only been her once before and I didn’t have much time when I came. That’s why I wanted to get here early, right when it opened. That way, we’ll have more time to explore.”

I cringed a little when he said he’d been here before. My thoughts immediately went to Sweater Vest and I wondered if he’d brought her here. I had to snap out of it. I couldn’t keep comparing myself to her and wondering if he had been with her every time he mentioned something. I would just drive myself crazy. Well, crazier than I already was.

“Is everything okay?” Brett
had a look of concern in his eyes.

I nodded. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s already one of my favorite places.”

“Just wait until we really start looking around.”

I reached into my pocket and removed my smartphone.
“Time to take some photos.”

I handed the smartphone to Brett. “Will you take a shot of me?”

I posed and Brett took a photo of me in the entryway. We both looked at it.

“You’re beautiful
and very photogenic.”

“Thanks.”

“Will you email me some of your photos?”

“Why do you think I’m taking them? They’re for your laptop
. I’ll know you’re serious about me, if the next time I see you, all the photos of Sweater Vest are gone and replaced with photos of me.”

I knew I was taking a big risk but when was I not
known for taking risks? Being a risk taker was one of my top flaws (
Flaw
3
).

Brett nodded as if he was giving it serious consideration. “You’re right. I need to replace those photos.”

“Thanks.”

After a moment, he said, “Do you have to keep calling her Sweater Vest?”

“Yup.”

Brett nodded. He was quiet for a moment then he said, “I never took
Becca to a garden. I just wanted you to know.”

That stunned me.
“Never?”

He shook his head. “
She doesn’t like gardens. Or plants. She never even visited me in California.”

That stuck me hard. They’d only been broken up a few months but she never visited him.
No wonder the long distance thing didn’t work out. That made me wonder how long she strung him along before she dumped him. Probably just long enough to find someone else. Bitch. I hated her even more.

“She has a lot of allergies and doesn’t like flower or plants.”

“But you live for gardens,” I said.

Brett gripped my hand
and held it a bit tighter. “That’s why I’m glad you love them as much as I do.”

“Especially yours,” I
assured him.

That’s when Brett’s smile returned to his face and my heart felt like it was dancing. Brett’s entire face lit us like a kid on Christmas morning whenever he truly smiled. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed seeing it when we were arguing.

“What,” Brett asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I just love your smile.” I raised my phone camera and snapped a shot of him. “That’s for my laptop
.” 

Brett’s smile grew even wider. “You’re really going to put my photo on your laptop?”

“I said I would.”

Brett nodded.

“Only I don’t have anyone to replace. There’s just you.”

Brett thought about this for a long moment. “You never put anyone else’s photo on your laptop?”

Not that there was ever anyone to put on my laptop. I shook my head. “I don’t have photos of anyone anywhere,” I admitted. “I never have.”

“So, I’ll be your first.”

“No, you’ll be my one and only.”

Brett kissed me cheek. The
n he whispered, “You have no idea how much I love the idea of being your one and only.” And I knew he wasn’t just talking about photos. Neither was I.

***

As we walked through the sixteen acres of formal gardens, I took in every bit of the lush environment. Living in the desert my entire life, I didn’t realize how much I craved green spaces. The place truly was spectacular.

“I’m sure you’ve been wondering why the place is called
Filoli?” Brett queried as we walked through rose garden, which was still in bloom.

“It may have crossed my mind
. But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

I
enjoyed seeing tourist sites with Brett. He was such a brilliant person and knew so much about seemingly everything, he was better than having a tour guide.

“
William Bourn, the original owner of the estate, called it Filoli because it’s the first two letters in the words fight, love and live. It comes from his motto:
Fight for a just cause; Love your fellow man; Live a good life
.

“That’s so cool. I like that. That should be our motto.”

Brett seemed to think about that for a moment. Then he nodded. “Okay. But I want you to know that even when we fight, which I’m sure we’ll do more of, because you’re you and I’m me, don’t ever think it means I don’t love you and want to be with you.”

Brett said he loved me a lot but always in some indirect way. I wasn’t ready to be
in love
. I wasn’t even sure I knew what it meant or if I’d ever feel that way. And I still wasn’t sure why Brett seemed to feel that way about me. Was I worth loving? I still wasn’t sure.

Brett kissed my cheek. “One of these days, you’re going to let me love you.”

Maybe, I though, just maybe.

***

After we exhausted ourselves at Filoli, Brett said he had another surprise for me. “I hope you’re hungry.”

W
e turned down a side street and parked next to an Asian restaurant. “Have you ever had Vietnamese food?”

“I’ve had Chinese take-out. Does that count?”

Brett laughed. “You’re going to love this.”

The small place only had about
12 tables and they were all packed. We had to wait 15 minutes for a table but Brett said it would be worth it. When we were finally seated and the waitress gave us our menus I had no idea what to order. Nothing sounded familiar to me. I glanced around the restaurant and it looked like everyone was eating out of giant soup bowls with chop sticks and weird looking spoons. I had spotted a McDonalds down the block. I wondered if Brett would be upset if I asked him to take me there instead.

“What’s wrong,” Brett asked. I was trying to act casual but Brett could see
how uncomfortable I felt.

“I have no idea what do order,” I admitted. “Is it too late to leave and go to McDonalds instead?”

Brett carefully removed the menu from my hand and placed it on the table next to his. “How about this? I’ll order two of my favorite dishes. We can share them. If you don’t like it, then I’ll take you to McDonalds.”

I nodded.
“Fair enough. I’ll give it a try.”

Ten minutes later, the waitress brought out two bowls filled with what looked like meat, noodles and vegetables.

“This one is Pho Ga.” Brett pointed to one of the bowls. “It’s a Vietnamese Chicken Noodle Soup.”

I
t didn’t look like any chicken noodle soup I had ever seen. But my experience was limited mostly to Campbell’s whenever I got the flu as a kid.

“And this one is Pho Bo. It’s a Beef Noodle Soup.”

“And you eat it with chop sticks and a ladle.”

Brett grinned. “It’s a soup spoon.”

“It looks more like a ladle to me.”

Brett picked up a set of the chop sticks. “Have you ever eaten with chop sticks before?”

I shook my head.

“It’s easy.” He positioned the chop sticks in his right hand. “Hold them like this.”

I took the other set of chop sticks and positioned them in my hand the way Brett was holding his.

“This is how you open and close them.” Brett demonstrated the movement and I followed his instructions. “See, you’re picking it up quickly. You’ll be a pro in no time.”

“I just want to learn enough not to starve if I ever find myself lost somewhere in Asia.”

“Okay, now try picking up a piece of food and bringing it to your mouth.” Brett demonstrated with a piece of chicken that he
easily grabbed from the bowl and popped into his mouth. “This is good,” he said taunting me. “Now it’s your turn.”

I managed to pick up a piece of chicken but it slipped and fell back into the bowl before I could get it to my mouth.

“You almost had it. Give it another try.”

I sighed and tried to pick up the chicken again. But the cho
psticks went sideways on me and the chicken fell back into the bowl with a splat.

“Maybe I can just use the spoon?” I suggested but Brett shook his head.

“No, don’t give up so easily. I know you can do it. Try it again.”

It took me three more tries but I was eventually able to pick up a piece of chicken and get it into my mouth.

Brett gave me a wide grin. “See, I knew you could do it. Thanks for not giving up.”

“Thanks for not giving up on me
.” When Brett’s eyes met mine, we both knew I meant more than just here and now. 

If you would have asked me a few weeks ago, if I would have thought someone like Brett had anything to teach me, I would have thought you were crazy. Now it seemed Brett was teaching me something new every minute of the day. And they were things I actually cared about learning. I’d never cared about learning anything before
I met Brett.

I had a feeling what I had to learn from Brett was much deeper than how to use chop sticks and trivia about flowers and gardens. I had a feeling he was going to teach me a lot about love and life.

As we exited the restaurant, Brett grabbed my hand. “So, what’s the verdict on Vietnamese food?”

I thought about it for a minute. “The food was different, which isn’t bad. I’m glad that you make me try new things. I always considered myself a risk taker, sometimes too much of one, flaw number
three, by the way. But I realized I don’t take risks like you do. Seeing and experiencing new places and eating different foods. Those are good risks. The kinds of risks I’ve taken in the past are the dark and dangerous kind. The risks you take are the healthy kind. The kind that broaden your horizons.”