Still Waters (10 page)

Hartley

Oh my God. I’m such a dork. I can’t believe I
just stood there like I was expecting him to get naked and climb into the bath
right in front of me. Shit. ShitShitShit. I shut the door quickly and rest my
forehead against it while I try to think of something clever and witty to say,
to make it seem like I did that on purpose. Nothing is coming to mind. Through
the door, I can hear him taking off his clothes and dropping them onto the
floor. He’s getting into the water, and I must have filled it up too much
because I can hear it spilling over the side.

“I
know you’re still out there,” he calls out and there’s laughter in his voice.

I
make a sound and jump away from the door like it’s on fire. Now my humiliation
is complete. I can hear him laughing from the other side.

I
screw my eyes shut tight and say something completely lame about him liking the
stupid bubble bath. An image of him standing in front of me, shirtless, with
that cocky little smile on his face pops into my head. If I’d had some warning
that I was about to see him with his top off I would have tried to play it
cool. Now he’s going to think I’m a complete idiot.

“You
can hop in too if you like,” he teases, and although I’m almost certain that
he’s joking, part of me wants to call his bluff. I consider it briefly then
shake my head at myself. There’s no way that bath is big enough for two. I’m
about to walk away and bury my shame under the covers of my bed when he asks if
I want to come in and talk while he’s in the bath. Yes, the bubbles will hide
everything. But he’s naked in there. And I know he’s naked. If I turn the knob
and go in, something is telling me there’s no going back. I open the door.

Crew
is lying back with his arms resting on either side of the bath. I’m relieved to
see that I wasn’t stingy with the bubbles, and they do in fact cover
everything. His legs are far too long, so he’s bent one at the knee, and the
other leg is out straight with his foot propped up on the end. When he sees me,
he smiles and pushes his hair off his face with his hands. It looks longer now
that it’s wet; the back of it almost touches his shoulders.

“Hi,”
he says, reaching up to scratch his cheek where the beginnings of a beard are
starting to show. “I think this was built for you, not me.”

As
he picks up his foot and puts it back under the bubbles, I catch a glimpse of a
long thick scar running up the side of his leg. I sit down on the chair next to
the bath and look down at him. I’m aware that I should be feeling really
uncomfortable right now. But I don’t. This feels like the most normal thing in
the world.

“Is
that scar from the accident?” I ask, and he looks down to the end of the bath
where his leg lies under the water.

“Yeah.
It was a bad break, but it’s healed up pretty well. I only feel it when it’s
cold.”

He
sits up straighter, sending a wave of water and bubbles up and down the bath. I
avert my eyes just in case and when I look back, he’s grinning right at me.

“So,
have I converted you yet?”

He
looks down at the bubbles, then across to the candles.

“You
love it. Admit it.”

He
raises an eyebrow at me, then sighs dramatically and leans back so that his
head is resting on the end of the bath.

“Ok
Hartley. I love it. I really, really love it. I love bubble baths so much that
I’m going to get an enormous pink heart-shaped tub installed in my bathroom,
and I’ll never use my shower again.”

“Good,”
I smile and cross my arms. “I look forward to seeing this heart-shaped bath. It
sounds amazing.”

He
smiles to himself and closes his eyes. I take a second to look at him, unobserved.
He has a beautiful face. His hair and eyebrows are almost black, and his skin
is dark and golden like caramel, hinting at the Latin blood flowing through his
veins. His nose is long and straight, and he has a dimple in his cheek when he
smiles. I wonder if he got those from his mother. He looks even bigger in the
bath than he does when he’s out of it. His shoulders are broader than the width
of it so that he has to rest his arms on the sides to prop himself up.

“Can
I ask you something?” he says as he opens his eyes and smiles when he catches
me looking at his arms.

“What
kind of something?”

“What’s
your game plan?”

“I
don’t have one yet.”

“Uh
uh,” he shakes his head. “I don’t buy it, kid. You have to have some idea of
what your life is going to look like here. I’m assuming you don’t have
unlimited resources. Sooner or later you’re going to have to find a job.”

I
squirm a little on the chair and look out the window above his head. He’s
right. Thanks to my trust fund I have enough money to keep me going for a
while. But I can’t avoid the fact that eventually I will have to figure out what
I’m going to do.

“Hey,”
he says and reaches out to grab my hand. His fingers have started to go pruney,
and it makes me smile.
 
“I know I
promised not to push you for information, but you’ve got to give me something.
You told me you’ve run away from something at your old job, but you won’t tell
me what it is. You have an ex-boyfriend who sounds like a total douche bag. And
I have my suspicions that you’re even smarter than you’re letting on. But that’s
just about all you’ve told me since we met.”

He’s
right. And I know he’s right. I feel like a total jerk for silently listening
as he told me his most painful memories without offering him anything in
return.

“I’m
sorry,” I mutter, and he sighs and drops my hand.

“Crew,
I do want to tell you. But I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do yet and
until I do there isn’t much to say.”

He
looks over at me then pulls himself up with his hands so that the water level
plummets to his waist. He leans forward slightly and rests his arms on his
knees. I stand up and walk behind him to the head of the bath. His back is out
of the water, long and muscular and each vertebra a knot the size of my
knuckle. He’s steaming slightly in the cold room. I reach out my hand and trace
the tattoo in the middle of his shoulder blades. It’s slightly raised under my
fingertips, and he shivers under my touch. There are five faces in a circle,
joined at their shoulders and each with an intricate looking headpiece on its
head.

“It’s
a Yant. It was done in Thailand by some monks in a Buddhist temple I visited.
It’s meant to be magic.”

“What
does it mean?”

He
shifts slightly under my touch.

“They’re
the five deva faces. It’s meant to ward off illness and danger.”

“Has
it worked?”

I
follow the lines of one of the faces with the tip of my finger.

“Not
yet,” he sighs. “But maybe it’s starting to.”

I
run my finger down the length of his spine, and he sucks in his breath dropping
his head onto his arms.

“I
love this one,” I say as I run my fingers over the words running up the side of
his back. “
The moment was all; the moment
was enough.
That’s from The Waves, right?”

He
nods into his arms.

“Virginia
Woolf.”

“The
moment was enough,” I say softly, and he sighs.

“Whenever
I miss her I repeat those words over and over to myself like a mantra. But our
moment wasn’t enough for me. I don’t think it ever will be.”

“Crew,”
I say, as I lean forward and place a tender kiss at the nape of his neck. “You
just need to give me a few more days to figure things out; and then I promise I’ll
be an open book.”

He
leans back against the bath, and I kneel down behind him and put my arms around
his neck. He’s warm and clean, and I have a sudden urge to lick a drop of water
off his ear.

“Was
this just a plan to distract me from unpacking those boxes?” he bursts out
suddenly and straightens up.

I
groan into his back and reach down to pinch his nipple.

“Ow!”

“What’s
your obsession with unpacking? Are you some kind of controlling neat-freak or
something?”

I
lean forward so that we’re cheek to cheek. I can feel the side of his face lift
up as he smiles.

“You
not wanting me to look in them makes me really, really want to look in them.
And when I said ‘Ow’ before, what I meant was, pinch me again.”

But
before I have time to consider it, there’s a loud knock on the front door.

Hartley

“Stay
here,” I say, jumping to my feet. Crew gives me a look and slides further down
into the bath.

“I’m
not going anywhere,” he yawns. “I’m beginning to see what you like about this
bath thing.”

I
shut the door behind me and jog down the hallway. I’m involuntarily smiling so
much that my cheeks hurt, and I’m relieved I haven’t had time to hang a mirror
up anywhere yet. I don’t want to know what I look like right now.

“Hey!”
I smile when I open the door and see Eleanor standing on the verandah in a pair
of jeans and a thick woolen jumper. “Wait, why aren’t you in your work clothes?
Are you sick?”

She
shakes her head and tries to look past me into the house.

“I’m
taking a personal day. I really need to talk to you, Hartley. Can we go and get
breakfast or something?”

She’s
jiggling her keys against her leg, and her forehead has that little wrinkle in
it that I know only appears when she’s anxious about something.

“I’ve
already eaten,” I say. “But come in.”

I
step back, and she walks through the door, shutting it behind her. I start to
walk towards the kitchen expecting her to follow me, but she hovers hesitantly
by the coat rack and looks at her feet.

“Ok,
Nor, what’s this about? Why are you acting weird?”

She
looks up to meet my eyes and then sighs.

“I
really just want you to be happy Hart.”

She
leans back against the door and looks at me carefully, as if she’s deciding on
the best way to tell me some bad news.

“I
am pretty happy, considering,” I shrug. I know that through the thin tongue and
groove walls Crew will be able to hear every word. “Do you want to come into
the kitchen and sit down?”

She
shakes her head.

“Do
you remember my oldest sister Jenny?” she says, and there’s a slight edge to
her voice all of a sudden.

“Sure.”

 
I think of the times I’ve met Eleanor’s big
sister. She’s blonde and outdoorsy and has a beautiful smile.

“Well,
Crew Sullivan broke her heart.”

“What
do you mean?”

“He
took her out when he came back to town. She thought it was the real deal
because he kept making all of these plans with her. ‘We’ should spend the
summer down at my Uncle’s house in Costa Rica. ‘We’ should take a skiing trip.
‘We’ should start thinking about the future. But really all he wanted was to
get her into bed and then leave.”

My
stomach begins to churn and suddenly I am far too aware of the bacon and eggs I
ate earlier.

“Oh.”

“It
wasn’t just Jenny, either. He went after pretty much every woman in his target
age range every time he came back here. And let me tell you, his age range was
pretty broad. You know Mrs. Hunter from the decorating shop in town?”

I
think of the attractive woman in her late 40s who sold me my new cushion
covers. She had sleek black hair and frightening red fingernails.

“I
don’t want you to get involved with him,” she whispers. “I’m scared for you.”

Her
eyes are beginning to well up, and she’s nervously chewing her lip.

“Nor,”
I sigh and walk towards her. “I know about his past. He’s been through a lot,
and he admits that he’s made some mistakes. But I feel good about this. Please
don’t worry.”

She
looks into my eyes and shakes her head.

“No.
He’s just trying to get into your pants, Hart. He’s not interested in you.”

I
take a step back from her and cross my arms.

“That
was a little unnecessary.”

She
lifts her chin defiantly and blows the air out angrily through her mouth.

“It’s
also untrue,” cuts in Crew’s deep voice from behind me.

Eleanor’s
eyes are wild and as big as saucers. She looks at me accusingly and turns to
go.

“I
said what I had to say,” she mutters into the door. “Now I’m going.”

I
stand in silence as Nor shuts the door behind her and drives away.

When
I turn around, I can see at once why Eleanor reacted the way she did. Crew is
standing in the hallway, naked except for a fluffy pink towel wrapped around
his waist. And he doesn’t look one bit sorry about it.

“You
couldn’t put a pair of pants on?” I scowl and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“Sorry.”

“You
are not! Now she thinks we slept together last night. Thanks a lot.”

“Are
you mad at me?” he laughs, and that just makes me madder.

“No!”

“You
are so. What did I do wrong?”

“Oh
I don’t know, how about sleeping with my best friend’s sister then ditching her
so she hates you and then running around in my hallway almost naked and looking
like.. looking like..
that!”

He
looks down at his chest and stomach and the pink towel, and then back up to
meet my eyes.

“Ok.
Maybe I could have put some clothes on. But I heard what she said about me just
wanting to get into your pants, and it pissed me off.”

“Well
I think it’s a pretty reasonable assumption to make given your history, don’t
you?”

His
smile disappears, and all of the amusement is suddenly gone from his eyes.

“I’m
going to go and wash and get dressed,” I mutter, and he nods and steps out of
my way.

“Do
you want me to go?”

He
looks serious and guarded, like he’s shutting down.

“No,”
I sigh. “Don’t go. But please, cover yourself up. Your abs are hurting my
eyes.”

A
minute later and I’m in my bathroom looking at the neat pile of his clothes on
the floor. He’s even folded his boxer shorts. I pick them up and quietly place
them on the floor outside. There isn’t enough hot water for another bath, and
I’m beginning to regret telling my landlord that I don’t mind the broken
shower. After a moment’s hesitation, I quickly pull off my t-shirt, bra and pajama
bottoms and slip into the water. The water is still warm, but the bubbles have
almost disappeared. It’s lucky Eleanor turned up when she did. Thinking of
Eleanor makes me think about Crew. Even though he told me he has a past, it’s
not quite the same thing as knowing he slept with my best friend’s sister. This
thing with Crew is starting to feel really messy. And if I’m honest, I have to
admit that spending so much time with him has been a convenient distraction
from those vials of contaminated water sitting in the bottom of my refrigerator.
But I can’t avoid it forever. At some point, I’m going to have to deal with it.

When
I walk into the kitchen half an hour later in a clean pair of jeans and a long
sleeve t-shirt, Crew has made a pot of tea and opened a bag of cookies. He’s
sitting at the table in his clothes from last night, and his expression is
serious.

“Take
a seat,” he says, pulling out a chair. “Hartley. I
am
sorry that I had sex with Eleanor’s sister. If I could go back
and deal with the accident differently, believe me, I would. But I was very
clear about my past with you last night. I really like you,” he says softly and
takes my hand. “But this isn’t going to go anywhere if my history is too much
for you to deal with. If it is, I’ll understand.”

He
drops my hand and pours some tea into my teacup, remembering the strainer this
time. I take a sip and look at him over the rim.

“I
guess I need to know how far in the past this stuff is. Are we talking years?
Months? A week?”

He
takes a bite out of a chocolate chip cookie and chews it slowly.

“Just
over a year. Some stuff I’ve pulled way back on, like drinking. And some things
I’ve stopped altogether.”

He
pours some milk into his teacup and stirs it quickly.

“Like
what?”

“Sex,
mainly.”

He
looks at me carefully.

“You
mean sex with women you don’t know?”

He
shakes his head.

“I
mean any sex at all.”

Wow.
What? The confusion must be showing on my face because when I look back at him,
he’s grinning.

“You
haven’t had sex in over a year?”

“Nope.”

“How
is that possible?”

He’s
openly laughing now.

“Well,
Hartley,” he says quietly, leaning in so that we’re almost nose to nose. “When
a man and a woman love each other, they have a very special cuddle….”

I
sit back a bit and narrow my eyes at him.

“So
I’ve just been very careful not to do anything that might mean I accidentally
cuddle someone in a very special way. That’s all.”

“What
I
meant
was,” I say, smiling tightly,
“when you look like
that
, you must
have women coming on to you all the time. And you’re a man, so…”

“I
just say no, kid. It was the only way I knew how to stop.”

I
lean back in my chair and think briefly about the last time I had sex. An image
of David rushing out of bed to take a shower as soon as we’d finished flashes
through my mind. That must have been at least a month ago. Do I miss it? I
can’t say that I do.

“Oh,
wow. Wow. This is amazing,” Crew laughs as he pulls out another set of bright
orange kitchen scales from a box. I put them next to the two sets of scales
I’ve already found and try to stop the heat from traveling up my face.

“Just
tell me one thing. And I’m only going to ask once,” he smiles. “Hartley, are
you a hoarder?”

“Ha
ha ha. I’m
not
a hoarder. I just went
a bit crazy buying things to set up the house, and I lost track of what I’d
already ordered. I told you I didn’t want to do this.”

“And
these!” he cries as he pushes some tissue paper aside. “What are these about?”

He’s
holding a set of placemats with purple pineapples all over them. I put my hands
over my face and groan.

“I
will try to explain this to you, but you can’t make fun of me.”

 
I slump down onto the ground next to him and
look over at the set of salt and peppershakers that look like kittens. We’ve
been through almost all of the boxes and bags and now the house is beginning to
look a little less like a thrift store and a little more like a home.

He
puts his hand over his heart and nods for me to continue.

“I
bought a house back home, and I redecorated it all by myself. I did the floors
and painted all of the ceilings and remodeled the kitchen. I’d almost finished
it when I left, and I thought it was perfect. But then when I got here, I realized
that I’d redecorated my house exactly the way my mother would have done it. Even
the curtains are the same ones she has hanging in her sitting room. I didn’t
even realize it until I got here, and I saw this house for the first time. So,”
I sigh and pick up a placemat. “I wanted to make this place perfect for
me
this time. And I went a little nuts.”

“Why
didn’t you just say that?” he says. “I was beginning to think you had something
really interesting in these boxes.”

“Like
what?”

Crew
screws up his face in concentration and pretends to think.

“An
extensive porn collection from the seventies.”

“Ew!”

“Five
hundred Barbie dolls still in their boxes?”

I’m
trying not to smile as I wait for him to come up with something else. I’m
thinking he’s either going to go with toenail clippings or belly button fluff
when his phone starts ringing from the table. I stand up and start collecting
up the empty paper bags that are littered across the floor to give him some
space to take the call.

“Hello?”
 
he says, smiling at me as he presses the
phone to his ear. “
Si. Cuando?
Rayos no vayas a hacer nada esperame a que llegue ok?”

He
hangs up and looks over at me. My heart is sinking because I already know where
this is going.
Do not do anything until I
get there.

 
“That doesn’t sound good,” I say, noticing
that he’s suddenly full of tension and nervous energy. He’s already looking
around the room for his keys.

“It
isn’t. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to catch a flight out tonight. There’s
a problem with the Venezuelan project, and I can’t stay away any longer.”

I
nod to myself and stuff an armful of bags into a cardboard box to try to hide
my disappointment.

“I
need to get home and change and start packing. Do you want to come over later?
I’ll make us some lunch before I go.”

I
look at him for a moment and think about whether that would be a good idea or
not. As far as I’m concerned, this is hurting enough already without me seeing
his house and him making me lunch.