Calm, Cool, and Adjusted (22 page)

“Simon.” I force my gaze from the backyard sky, seeing the uncertainty I’ve brought to his life. It’s interesting to see how unfeeling I can be on the face of another. I see it in Simon’s eyes. He appears beaten and haggard. I know him— he’ll pop out of it. But the realization that I’m capable of inflicting such pain is still there. Helping people, healing people, I’m in my element, but on the receiving end I manage to mutilate things every time. “Simon.” I grab his hand between my own. “Thank you for this. It’s too much, you know, and I just don’t know how to take it.”

He nods stoically.

“No, I mean it. I really am grateful. What you did for me is just beyond the scale of what I can imagine, and I’m overwhelmed, and frustrated by my response.”

“The proper response is thank you.” He starts to walk towards the back door. He looks towards me. “And you’re welcome.”

“You’re not leaving?” I ask.

“You tell me I’ve got a charitable foundation to start. I’ll need to get on that.”

“Are you making fun of me?” I’m blinking back tears as I ask this.

“Lord forbid I actually give to a friend who deserves my money. Someone who makes my favorite thing—golf—possible with her gentle touch. There’s no tax write-off in that.” He shakes his head. “Shame on me for thinking like a man, instead of a like businessman.” Simon stares straight at me . . . and winks.

“You’re winking at me? This is funny to you? You’re not really going to start a foundation, are you?”

“I thought maybe the ‘Woe is me’ act would work,” he shrugs. “You can’t blame a guy for trying. Someday, Poppy, you’re going to see what you’re missing in me, and I just hope I’m not doing the hula with a gorgeous
wahine
when you realize it.”

“Simon, you can have any girl you want and you know it.”

“But I don’t want
any
girl. What guy does? I want the one I want. The one I know is wife material for me.”

I gasp. “W-what?”

“You heard me. I said the word
wife
. I’ll bet you’re dying for a run at this moment.”

“Simon, you only have to go as far as Lilly and Morgan to know I’m not marriage material. Don’t you want to actually
date
the woman you say you want in marriage? I’ll make my husband eat— Well, what if I took your steak away?”

“You wouldn’t do that, and I’m not as easily frightened as you might think. I can order a steak when we go out to dinner. Do you believe in restaurants?”

“This is flattering, you know?”
But I don’t believe a word of it.

“I do know. I’m a great guy. What’s not to be flattered about?”

I force down the giggle I feel. I don’t think I’ve felt this lighthearted since I was twelve. I feel as though Aerosmith is bellowing “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing.” “You’re so modest too.”

“I’ll give you that: modesty is not my strong suit. It’s from growing up as the mathlete in a sports-related environment. Then, when football got really important, I had to final in the national science bowl.” Simon raises his eyebrow, to give me his best romance cover look. “Now one might think being a quarterback is cool, but the hot chicks know that real men compete in a verbal format to solve today’s technical questions.”

“So you didn’t have many dates, I’m guessing?”

“Not one. But I knew how to create a really cool robot that turned on the vacuum cleaner. It couldn’t actually push the vacuum, but it was a start. Great science comes from humble beginnings.”

“Are you telling me you created the precursor to the Roomba?”

“Come again?”

“The little vacuum cleaner that goes by itself.”

“No, I’m telling you I couldn’t get a date to save my life, and now science has made me a wealthy man and I can’t keep them away. But I don’t want those women. I want the one who would have loved me despite the science fair. I want the one who would have danced with me to the Bee Gees long after it was fashionable. I want
you
, Poppy.”

Every part of me tingles as Simon says this. The truth is I want him too. I never really thought of the possibility, but the reality is that I have a different course and I’ll only ruin his.

“Well, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” I lift my chin towards the sky. “I would have thought you were a geek back then, too, just like the other girls,” I lie. The idea that Simon was ever a geek is ridiculous. He looks like a big, hunky football player with a scientific brain. Bill Gates in a muscular, masculine body. Hardly a geek in anyone’s book.

“Poppy.” Simon crosses his arms. “You wear tie-dye and your Walkman—notice I said Walkman, not iPod—still spews Credence Clearwater Revival. You’re not really in a place to judge geekdom. Just one of the reasons you’re the girl for me.”

I look down at my running gear. In this outfit it’s not all that obvious that I’m out of touch fashion-wise. But make no mistake, if being friends with Lilly and Morgan has taught me anything, it’s that I have no fashion sense. But again, this isn’t about me. “Credence is timeless.”

“You shouldn’t listen to it so loud; it’s bad for your hearing.”

“What, are you the doctor now?”

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Poppy.” At this I turn away and look down at the overgrown grass my father probably hasn’t cut in a year. I focus on it, rather than take in what he’s saying, which is just too far from reality. “I know you understand what it feels like to be different, and I know you light up when I come into the office, whether you want to admit it or not.”

I swallow hard at this, trying to will myself to believe he’s making this all up.
I do not light up when he comes in. What am I, an eighth-grader? I’m just happy to see a consistent patient, is all.
I clear my throat. “That’s not a reason to think you should offer marriage to someone, Simon—because they understand being a geek. That’s like taking the runt in the litter and thinking it’ll love you more because you rescued it. I don’t need to be rescued.”

“I do,” Simon says low and pointed.

“I can’t deal with this now,” I say.

“Do you want to run?”

I sigh loudly. “I’m dying to run. How can you tell?”

“Your leg is shaking. Let’s go to the beach. You can admit your weakness for me tomorrow. I’ll chaperone you while you run.”

“Who’s going to chaperone you?”

“That’s the beautiful part. I’m hoping nobody.”

“Good thing I can take you.” I ball my hand into a fist.

He grabs it. “Good thing.”

“I’m going to pay for all this,” I say as we walk through the house and the stench of bleach. Lilly would be like an addict in here.

“I don’t think you will when you hear what it costs.”

“Are you trying to tell me I’m indebted to you?”

“Forever. How do you feel about indentured servitude?”

“Is that like aromatherapy?”

“Sort of, only the cologne comes on a gift with purchase. Me.” He grins widely, and I have to say, his grin warms my insides.
I’m home.
I hear the ocean roaring, I see the fireplace where my mother had fires before the environmental protection agency warned us against such ozone evils, and I feel truly joyous. I thought this would be the worst day of my adult life, and Simon made it completely fun and I forgot what I feared in the first place.

Simon shouts some directions at the builders and sends them home. “There’s no use in paying them for Sunday night if you already know,” he says to me.

“I can’t believe you did this.”

“Oh that reminds me, I stored all the furniture in a storage unit up the street. You’ll have to go through that.”

“Furniture? My dad left the furniture?”

“Honey, your dad left everything. Not really a compulsive man, is he? When I saw him in that suit, I thought certainly his house would be like an Armani closet. It looked like a well-stocked secondhand store.”

I laugh. “Actually, my father has more taste than cash. His house was almost like a hideout; he always met people at fancy restaurants.” I stop on the front porch and hop one step down from Simon, turning to look at him. “Do you remember in
The Cat and the Hat Comes Back
how there’s this one red spot and the cat destroys everything to clean that spot? That’s sort of how my dad leaves the house looking. Everything around him is painted with the memory of his being there.”

I laugh, but I can tell Simon isn’t fooled. He doesn’t laugh, and he doesn’t comment. I can only imagine what my father left this house looking like, and I’m mortified that Simon saw my childhood in full bloom.

We walk arm in arm down the sidewalk to the beach, and I try to imagine what life would be like if I could submit to my emotions. The waves are lit by a tourist beacon for the restaurants nearby, and my feet are itching, they are so ready to take off.
I will finish two miles in seven and a half minutes
, I think to myself, and I have to hold myself back and not just take off. The surf is calm, and I just want to run into its embrace and feel its power and the sting of salt against my legs.

Simon lets go of my arm and looks down at me from his tall stature. “Just go. You’re like a hummingbird that I’m clinging to.”

“I know. I’m sorry. My body just wants to run. I can’t help it; I’m like a greyhound that’s seen the bunny, you know?”

His brown eyes crinkle in amusement. “I don’t know, but I’ll be here when you get back.”

I take off as though I’ve just heard the starting gun. Oh my gosh, there’s nothing like running on the beach. Tomorrow, my thighs will feel like wet noodles and the next time I run, it will be like my muscles are on fire, but it’s worth every pain.

“Oh Lord in heaven, this is what I live for! Praise You. Praise Your holy name!” I shout to the sky with my arms lifted up. Sure, I look like an idiot, but sometimes that moment with God just hits you, and you can’t help your gratitude. It’s like that when I run.

As I get farther up the beach, the lone beach light begins to dwindle and there’s only the moon. My heartbeat drowns out the waves in my ears. Something makes me stop. Right there in the middle of my run, with point-seven miles left to go according to my time. I turn around and look back up the beach where Simon ponders the stars. His masculine frame looks different here as he plays protector and stays close enough to get me at any time. He’s standing still, but he must have run to keep up with me. Now he’s casually looking towards the ocean as though he has no idea how he got there. His hair is lit blue from the moonlight, and just the sight of him makes me smile.

Simon is definitely the marrying kind, and it’s just too bad he doesn’t get that I’m not.

chapter 16

W
hen I get to work on Monday, there’s an envelope taped to the door. I pull it down, annoyed that someone wouldn’t use the mail slot, but today I’m toting a new, heated chiropractic table for Brian, who’s just gotten his lymphatic massage license. Naturally, the thought occurs to me that this is going to mean more space in my business hunt, but for all the good it will do it’s worth more rent. Lymphatic is one of the best remedies for toxins in the system, and now my patients won’t even have to leave my doors to get their systems flushed by a professional.

I schlep the table, which is in pieces, into the foyer, and drop my keys on the countertop. I wish I could ride my bike to work, but it just doesn’t work out with the traffic and the dangerous route to get here, so I get up earlier and earlier to train as my race gets closer. Just a little more than a month, and I’m there, soaking up the Hawaiian sunshine, and eating goo in the race of a lifetime.

I tear open the envelope, and I feel my stomach plummet. It’s an eviction notice. What the heck? I paid the rent. I have a lease. I— “Jeff!”

Without another glance at the pink paperwork, I exit my office door and head to Dr. 90210’s staged foyer. Jeff’s office is like something out of a model-home environment. There’s a faux limestone fireplace crackling in the waiting room, with deep, rich taupe colors and Tuscan art lining the walls. A fake marble statue of the female form sits in the middle of the room on a marble pedestal, piano concertos play, these fabulous, natural candles fill the room with the most peaceful scent. I pick one of them up against my better judgment and smell its divine scent. I could use a little peace right now.

I’m telling you, this office makes
me
want plastic surgery. Man, it’s like a cult of luxury in here, and all I can say is that when he pulls them in, they’re like flies in a Venus’s flytrap. No one’s going anywhere until they’re nipped, tucked, and well on their way to perfection.

“Where’s Jeff?” I ask his plastic staff girl. Working here, some of the benefits are clearly obvious.

“He’s in a consultation. Can I help you with something?”

“Can you ask him to come to my office when he’s done? I have something to discuss with him.” I try to put on my nice voice, but it’s apparent from Plastic Girl’s face I’m not succeeding. I take in a deep breath and exhale.

She looks down at her open calendar. “He’s really swamped today. I’m not sure when he could find time to . . .” She looks up at me. “Do you know we carry mineral makeup? You would be a knockout with makeup. Just a touch to even out your skin tone. You are really stunning, Dr. Clayton.”

“It will take five minutes of his time, all right? It’s really important to the future of his business. Tell him that for me, won’t you?”

“Anytime you want to come over for a free demonstration, I’d be happy—”

“I don’t wear makeup. I don’t wear anything I wouldn’t ingest into my system,” I snap.

Plastic Girl lets her mouth hang, “Why on earth not? You know, pardon me for being so blunt, but you are, like— Well, if I was a guy, I would say you are totally hot and you have a figure to die for. So I guess I don’t get the makeup thing.” She shrugs, but her Valley speak continues. “I mean, you’d be, like, the kind of girl men were afraid to talk to. That’s my dream. Scare them off before they even approach.”

Yes, it would be.
“I have to say as a makeup salesgirl, you are very persuasive.” I tap the desk a couple times and turn to leave. I smile, thinking about the Tammy Faye look to her taut, flawless skin. There are some women who think of the face as a mere canvas, and where there’s white they must slash it with color and glitter.