Hope(less) (18 page)

“I am.  It doesn’t mean I don’t window-shop.  Go down there
and flirt with him and see if we can get twenty percent off our bill.”

“I will not,” I huffed with a laugh, getting myself a drink
of water.  We still spoke quietly, both of us casting glances at the open door.
 “It’d be safer to send Clay down there to learn how to fix it than me trying
to get us a price break.”

“If our dog starts fixing things,” Rachel said leaning
against the counter, “we’re hitting the road and making some money.”

We both heard the heavy tread on the basement stairs at the
same time.  Rachel’s face lit with anticipation while I eyed the door with
dread.  Was it too late to run past and hide in my room?  With Clay so close to
the door, I’d probably trip on him and the repairman would find me lying at his
feet.

Then, I saw him.  With a body like that, a girl had to look
her fill.  Denim hugged his long lean legs, and a snug shirt displayed his
biceps and abs to perfection.  I made an effort to blink to break my stare.  I
knew better.  He’d take my attention as a come-get-me signal for sure.  Lifting
my eyes to meet his, he smiled broadly and flexed.  Well, that just ruined the
whole window-shopping experience.  A conceded hottie.  Their vocabularies
didn’t include the word ‘no’ making them difficult to fight off.

The situation called for a retreat.  I turned to Rachel and
in a single breath said, “I have to go pick up my ring before Clay gets here. 
He’d be heartbroken if he found out I bent a prong on the setting already. 
Plus my hand feels naked without it.”  While I spoke, I held out my left hand dramatically
while looking at it wistfully.  Maybe it was over doing it, but I wasn’t sure
he’d get the point.

Puzzled, the man looked at Rachel, “The dog?”

A nervous laugh escaped before I could stop it.  “We named
the dog after my fiancé.  He’s got a good sense of humor and likes the dog
too.”

Since I stood only five steps from the back door, I escaped
before any further conversation delayed me.  Clay hadn’t been fast enough for a
change and I had to leave him behind.

Not knowing what else to do, I went grocery shopping, taking
my time reading the labels of the different orange juices the store offered.

Even after shopping, I had to drive past the house three
times before the truck finally disappeared.

When I staggered in through the back door laden with
groceries, Clay sat waiting for me in the kitchen.  Setting down the bags, I
peeked around the corner for Rachel before whispering, “You better keep reading
the books I bring home.  You can be our repair guy.  It gives me the willies
knowing he knows where I live.”

Clay nodded his head in agreement, which Rachel saw as she
walked into the kitchen.

She paused mid-stride her eyes wide.  “Did he just nod?” she
demanded.

“Yep.  I’ve been working on it with him.  He caught on
really fast.  The nodding isn’t bad, but his smile can be a little scary.”

Rachel recovered and shook her head.  “You’re weird Gabby,
but in a good way.  Anyway, it was one hundred and twenty-five dollars to fix
the washer.  I covered your half.  With the vet bill, you’re up to one hundred,
minus the burger and drink from disaster night.”

Ouch.  “Okay.  I’ll run to the bank after class to
tomorrow.”  I chewed my lip for a moment.  My pathetic savings couldn’t take
these kinds of unexpected hits.  Life was more expensive than I’d anticipated.

I turned to unpack the rest of my groceries and noticed Clay
watching me closely.  Not wanting to draw Rachel’s attention to him again, I
ignored his look and finished up to go study.

*    *    *    *

On Friday afternoon, Rachel rushed in through the back door
calling my name in a panicked tone.  I jumped up from the bed calling, “here!” 
We nearly collided as she flew through my bedroom door at the same time I tried
to leave it.

“What’s going on?” I said catching her by the arms seriously
concerned.

“Peter broke and told Scott he had plans to go to dinner with
me tonight,” she panted.

She ran through the house to tell me she had a date?  I
really didn’t see how I qualified as the weird one sometimes.  “So?”

“Peter’s coming here to pick me up… and Scott’s coming
with.”  She stood framed in my bedroom door shifting from foot to foot. 
“Gabby, I don’t think he’s going to take no for an answer for a date tonight. 
Peter can’t shake him.”  Her emphatic expression told me the degree of
insistence Scott had used to accompany Peter.

I groaned and flopped back on my bed forgetting about Clay
and landing on him.  He didn’t even twitch, but I still reached back to pat
him, “Sorry Clay.”  I froze mid pat staring at the ceiling in revelation.

“I’ve got an idea!” I exclaimed scrambling off the bed.  “If
you have any clothes I can borrow that would say I’ve been dating a guy for a
while, can I borrow them?”  I didn’t want to spend any money unnecessarily.

Rachel moved out of the way as I rushed from my room.  I
heard Clay hop down from the bed to follow me.  I grabbed shoes from the
closet, lost in thought.  My plan could work.  I just needed to convince Clay. 
They both trailed behind me watching struggle to slip on some shoes as I walked
to the kitchen.  It wasn’t easy.  I almost tripped twice and covered most of
the distance hopping instead of walking.  I grabbed my car keys before Rachel
spoke up.

“Sure, but who are you dating?”

“I’ll let you know when I bring him home.  Come on Clay,” I
called holding open the door for him.  With a baffled glint in his eyes, he
willingly followed me.

Rushing to the car, waving for him to hurry, I had the doors
slammed closed and the engine rumbling seconds later.  I felt him study me as I
careened out the driveway and took off in the direction of the shopping
district.

“You’re here to keep me safe, right?”  He grunted which I
took as a yes and continued.  “Then I need you to be more than my dog.”  I
risked a glance at him.  He titled his head at me clearly confused.  I pleaded,
“Will you put on your skin tonight to be my date?”

I sounded desperate, but I didn’t really care.  The thought
of Scott cornering me gave me shivers.  Not the good kind.  His personality
probably normally qualified as nice, but I’d seen the obsession at work on
others before.  Scott’s fascination with me had obviously advanced.  Asking
Clay to run interference as my date could permanently dissolve Scott’s
interest.

Searching for a parking spot at the shopping center, I
probed, “You took a shower today, right?”  I expected the harrumph he let out,
but I had to be sure.  “Do you know what size you wear?  Shirt, pants, shoes?” 
Unhelpful, he continued to stare at me.  Given what he’d worn when I first saw
him, he probably didn’t know.  Speeding into a parking spot, I slammed on the
brakes.  His good balance kept him from falling out of the seat.  “Fine.  I’ll
be back in a few minutes.”

Trying to remember how he looked as a man, I scoured the
sales racks, guessing at sizes and trying to stick with safe clothes.  I bought
him some essentials, a linen pant and shirt set, and the largest brown foam
bottomed sandals I could find.  I could always cut the foam down to size.

Shopping in a clothing store on my own usually didn’t turn
out well, but running from rack to rack like a crazy woman held most of the men
I encountered at bay long enough to run past them.  Panting for breath, I paid
and ran out of the store.

Back in the car, with Clay staring at me, I tried to think
where I could take him to get dressed.  Somewhere he could walk in as a dog and
out as a man.  I couldn’t think of a single place that allowed dogs in changing
areas.  I’d just have to try to pull a fast one on Rachel.  Putting the car in
gear, I drove it as if I’d stolen it and made it to the house in record time.

Rachel, already dressed, stood at the door waiting for me
with a stack of clothes in her arms.  Her eyes searching the empty car behind
me, she demanded, “Where’s the date?  They are going to be here in fifteen
minutes.”

“He’ll be here in a few minutes… I hope,” I said not looking
at Clay.  Waving for her to go first, she led the way back into the house.  I
paused to toss the bag of new clothes in the bathroom for Clay.

“Let’s go in my room and you can help me pick what to
wear.”  She’d already noticed the fact that liked my privacy and usually left
me alone.  So she perked up at the opportunity to dress me.  Pulling her into
my room with me, a sign of my desperation to get rid of Scott permanently, she
failed to notice that Clay hadn’t followed us from the kitchen.

“I need something a little tropical, or hippie-ish,” I said
as I closed the door and started to undress.

Rachel set the clothes on the bed, her expression filled
with suspicion.  “Who is this guy?  Why do you need to dress like a hippie?”

“He’s a good friend and he didn’t much notice to go home to
change.  Because I’m cheap, I got him some clean clothes from the summer closeout
racks.  He’s got longish hair so I think he might look like a hippie in them.”

I spoke a little louder for his benefit, thinking he might
hear me through the door.  I wanted him to know why I purchased what I had. 
Rachel looked up at my sudden increase in volume.  Clearly, my weirdness had
just increased a level.  I motioned to the pile of clothes, distracting her.  She
began rifling through them searching for something to fit my requirements.

Continuing my story, I said, “He was just behind me.  I told
him he could use our bathroom to change.”

“How good of a friend is he?” she asked.

“Well,” I smiled knowing Clay could hear, “we’ve slept
together.”

She surprised me by not saying anything.  Instead, she held
up a few options.  I picked a flowing, knee-length cream skirt with a light
yellow, scoop-necked top and hurried to get dressed.

“You do know that the best way to look like you’ve been
dating a long time would be too look like you don’t care how you look, right?” she
asked.

I rolled my eyes at her and gave the skirt one last tug to
straighten it, studying myself in the mirror with a critical eye.  Dressing up
was a gamble.  It might send the wrong message to Scott even with Clay present. 
Maybe I should follow Rachel’s advice and dress down.  Then Clay would look out
of place in his clothes.

“That looks great on you,” Rachel complemented me, as she
scooped up the rejects.

Worried Clay might need more time, I stalled by fixing my
hair.  I didn’t own any make up to apply.

“So what’s the guy’s name?”  Rachel watched me closely.

“Clay,” I admitted reluctantly.  Considering I’d asked a
huge favor of him, I couldn’t lie about his name.

“Shut up...,” she laughed in disbelief, standing in the doorway
with arms draped with clothes.

Holding up my hands in the mirror, I swore, “Not lying.  He
talks as much as the dog too.  So don’t bother trying to make conversation.”

Figuring I pushed our time limit, I turned and let Rachel
inspect me.  She smiled her approval and dashed to her room to ditch the extra clothes. 
We crossed paths in the living room as she went to look out the picture window
while I went looking for Clay.

The door to the bathroom remained firmly closed so I tapped
on it and whispered, “Do you need help?”

Unfortunately, Rachel overheard and started sniggering
behind me.  Apparently, there was nothing to see out the window.  I tried shooing
her away with a wave but she shook her head leaning against the hallway wall to
watch.

“Please hurry Clay,” I begged him yet again.

The door opened.  I took a step back to avoid the cloud of
steam that rolled out.  Clay stepped out with it.  Stunned, I stared at him.  I
hadn’t seen him since the beginning of the summer.  Well, excluding that brief
look at his backside.  I’d been too shocked to actually look then.

He still looked scruffy, sporting a beard that concealed his
entire neck along with a full mouth-covering mustache.  His damp hair hung in
limp wavy strands in front of his eyes, covering the top portion of his face
almost down to his nose.  Clean and dressed in the clothes I’d forced him into
he looked amazing.

His shoulders filled the short-sleeved shirt, and although
snug on his chest, it fell loosely to his waist.  Standing there, he put his
hands in his pockets and waited for my inspection to finish.  Embarrassed, I
tore my gaze away, but not before I noted he’d left himself barefoot.

“Brat,” I muttered.  Clearing my throat, I added, “You’ll
do.”  I turned catching Rachel’s smirk.  “Quiet from the peanut gallery.”

She just laughed and rushed to answer the front door that
mercifully rang just then sparing me from having to look at Clay again.  In a
way, I’d forgotten the man under the fur.  I followed Rachel slowly entering
the living room feeling curiously lost.  Clay padded softly behind me.

“Come on in,” Rachel invited Peter.  Scott followed inches
behind Peter.  His eyes found mine and he smiled widely.  I flashed a politely
cool smile in return.

I could see the moment Scott spotted Clay.  His face first
fell and then firmed in tense appraisal.

“Hi, Peter.  Nice to see you again, Scott.”  His face lit at
my statement.  I felt bad for him.  Bad that I needed to hurt him to end his fixation
on me.  “We were going to join you guys, but Clay just got off of work a little
while ago and suggested he and I take advantage of the empty house tonight.” 
My heart skipped a beat or two at my bold words and I struggled to control the
blush that wanted to paint my face.  Thankfully, Clay stood behind me so I
didn’t need to witness his reaction to my words.

Scott’s face was a different story.  I watched it turn red. 
“Isn’t Clay your dog?” he asked suspiciously.

I smiled apologetically still feeling pity for Scott, “We
named the dog after my boyfriend.  It’s a bit of a joke.  Clay, this is Peter
and Scott, Rachel’s friends.”  My disassociation of him broke Scott.  His
shoulders slumped and the familiar look of shame stole over his face.  Why did
this happen?  I hated it.  Pity and remorse swamped me.