Stray (23 page)

I didn
’t know how to think about Jon after that night. He’d tried to do the right thing, only to have Ashleigh throw it back in his face, both literally and in a very crude way. I burned with shame every time I thought of all those people who now thought I was probably giving Jon oral sex night and day. The fact was that we weren’t seeing each other much, outside of the clinic. He was busy with the lawsuit that the construction company brought when he canceled the contract for the new hotel. And I was busy with the clinic, as usual.

Occasionally, we had dinner together, and he’d stopped arguing with me when I wanted to pay for my own meal. It was a routine I was now comfortable with; go to work, see Jon now and then for an informal dinner, hike when the weather allowed it. Thankfully, Megan had either come to terms with my presence or more likely found another boyfriend. As long as I didn’t keep her overtime on a Friday evening, she kept her behavior relatively reasonable.

A week passed, and then two, and before I knew it, it was the end of January and Max was ready to go home with Jon. The only thing was, where was home? I knew Jon had a house in Boulder. I also knew he’d been staying at the resort. Where did he intend to take Max? If the resort, I was going to have to reconsider allowing him to adopt Max. Max needed space.

On a blustery late-January Saturday, I took a phone call at home after clinic hours. I was cozy in my easy chair, my warm shawl around my shoulders and feet drawn up under me. I had a steamy romance novel on my Kindle, and a weekend of relaxation ahead of me. It was Jon on the phone.

“Erin, would you do me a favor?”

“What’s that, Jon?”

“I need a woman’s opinion. I’ve narrowed my search down to four houses. Would you come out with me to look at them again, and help me make a decision?”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the only woman friend I have? Come on, it would really help me. I need to close on one so Max will have a home to come home to.”

That settled it. If it was for the dog, I was fine with it. I met him at the first house, a two-story contemporary near Doc’s. This house had been built recently, as a ski-getaway home for an east-coast financier. It had all the amenities anyone could want, granite countertops, slate floors in wet areas and Brazilian Cherry everywhere else. The living room had a vaulted ceiling with a breathtaking chandelier hanging over what would be a cozy seating area in front of a fireplace. The master bedroom was luxurious, with an en suite bath that boasted an actual hot tub, as well as a shower that would have accommodated an entire family—or an orgy. But, it had no soul. I wandered through it, trying to feel the previous owners, and the house just wasn’t alive, like Doc’s was. Maybe it was because the furniture was gone. When Jon asked if I liked it, I shrugged. It was nice; if he liked it, what difference did it make if I did or didn’t?

The next one, just on the next street, was a big, rambling ranch-style, all one level. Similar amenities made me understand that this was a development with just one builder, and when I realized it was Miles-McGraw, it all made sense. We looked at two more before Jon asked which one I liked best.

“Why?” I said. “What difference does my opinion make?”

“Well, I like them all equally, so I don’t care, but I have to have a way to make a choice. Was any one of them better for a dog?”

“I liked the one with the reclaimed hardwood flooring and the big kitchen overlooking the stream,” I said. “It’s already got a fenced area, where Max can run without being on a leash. Max won’t care which one, as long as you’re there with him as much as possible. If you get the one with pine flooring, though, you’ll have to make sure to keep his nails trimmed. Otherwise, he’ll ruin your floor.”

“Good point. Okay, well thanks for giving me your opinion.”

“Sure, Jon. If you’re through with me, I’d like to go home, now. I have a chick flick and some Kahlua hot chocolate waiting for me.”

Jon smiled over at me and said, “Sounds perfect.”

I made my eyes big and round and squealed, “Oooooh, you like chick flicks, too? You could come over, watch it with me. We could do each other’s nails.”

Jon laughed. “Well, I’d probably prefer an adventure or comedy, but a movie and Kahlua hot chocolate sounds like a good way to pass a lazy Saturday afternoon.”

“Sorry, all I’ve got is chick flicks.”

“I get it. You want to be alone. I’ll take you home, then, but will you go furniture shopping with me next weekend?”

I had to think about that. It required a bigger time commitment, since we’d have to go to Boulder, or maybe even Denver. Plus, furniture was a lot more of a personal choice than a house. You could pretty much make any house your own and fit your style, if you had the right decor. And furnishing a house of that size—that was a daunting task. “Let me think about it. Maybe.”

We were at my apartment by then, and I hopped out of the car without waiting for him to open the door for me. “Thanks, Jon, that was fun,” I said. Then I ran, giving him no more time to say anything. If he started asking me to pick out towels and sheets, I would seriously freak. I waved from the top of my stairs, and watched him drive away slowly.

Did I want to spend several hours with him, looking at furniture as if we were a couple? The sales people would assume it, I knew. But, we’d probably never see them again, so what difference did it make? After all was said and done, I enjoyed Jon’s company, especially now that he was much more relaxed.

Since the New Year’s Eve party, even though we didn’t spend time with each other every day, it felt more like we were friends. He was more fun, too. I didn’t feel that I had to be on constant guard against unwanted advances, because he didn’t make any. In short, this was a different Jon than the one I’d met two months before. Sometimes, the way he talked, I almost wondered if he was channeling a woman so he could become my best friend or something. But then, awareness of his body overtook me. In no way was this man feminine.

It had been a month since I
’d sent Ellyn, as I had to think of her, a friend request. I talked incessantly about my dog, and posted plenty of pictures of Max to back it up. Max on the trails, scooping up snow with his nose and flinging it far and wide as he shook it from his coat. Max in front of my new house, the one that Erin liked. On Saturday, I was going to use the excuse of furniture shopping to suggest I meet her in Denver. But, I needed a buffer.

I knew Ellyn would recognize me immediately, and I was afraid she’d run, or refuse to talk with me, as soon as she saw me. All this time, I’d been thinking I’d ask Erin to go with me and break the ice, but now I wondered if I’d made a mistake in not taking her into my confidence from the beginning.

I hadn’t told Doc that I’d found my mother, either. I thought about it, but the more I thought, the more I wondered if she was running from the men in her life, instead of her twelve-year-old kid. What could I have done to make her go? I was no more obnoxious than any other twelve-year-old, less than some. I’d come to the conclusion that I was just collateral damage. That didn’t make it any easier to take, but it did make me want to approach her without Doc, at least at first.

Doc and I had spent a number of evenings together, getting to know and appreciate each other as friends. We didn’t exactly begin to act as father and son, whether because it was uncertain I didn’t know.

I’d consulted a lawyer about my position with regard to my inheritance, and he assured me that as long as there were no other claimants, I shouldn’t worry about it. My mother’s husband, the man I grew up knowing as dad, had acknowledged me as his, so for all legal intents and purposes, I was. He had been an only child, and so had I, so there were no other claimants that I knew of.

The other part of my plan, I thought Erin would tumble to immediately, but I had to take the risk. I’d screwed up my chances with the whole Ashleigh thing, and the only way to get back on solid footing with Erin was to give it time. Ashleigh had let me off the hook, though I would have wished for a more conventional breakup scene.

I talked with Erin about it a few days after it happened, apologizing that Ashleigh had dragged her into it. She told me she was okay, and we didn’t discuss it after that. Neither did I make any romantic or even sexual approaches. I had to wait for that, maybe for months, and give her time to get over what Ashleigh said.

Once we were comfortable as friends, I’d talk with her about whether there could ever be more. I was willing to wait as long as she made me, because if there was ever an example of grace under pressure, it was Erin. No matter what kind of stress I’d seen her under, she never lost her controlled demeanor.

The only time I’d seen her out of control was in bed, and that was a good thing. The memories of those times had to sustain me until I could make new ones, because there was never going to be anyone else for me now. Erin was beautiful, funny, smart and she liked the same things I liked. And the sex! We had only been together twice, but both times had been fucking unbelievable. I had to have her for my own, forever.

The first move in that plan was to get her to approve of the house I bought. That way, when I asked her to move in with me, it would be to a house she liked. Next was to learn her taste in furniture and decor, and fill the house with things she’d find comfortable and attractive. Of course, Max would be an incentive, too. I wanted it to feel inevitable when it happened. Killing two birds with one stone by meeting my mother in person seemed to be a no-brainer, as long as Erin would cooperate.

On Thursday, I asked her to go to dinner with me, figuring I’d better not spring this scheme with my mother on her. Something was telling me I maybe hadn’t handled it correctly. It was too late now, though, to do anything but follow through. If Erin wouldn’t help me, I’d have to hire someone to be Erin Johnson long enough to lure Ellyn into the open. Once she was seated, in a Starbucks or somewhere like that, I’d reveal myself, apologize for deceiving her, and see what happened.

I had imagined the scene over and over. In one version, my mother jumped to her feet and threw her arms around me, crying that she’d missed me so much. In another, she slapped me hard enough to knock me down. I hoped for the former, dreaded the latter, and assumed it would be something more in the middle of the two extremes.

I tried to imagine how I’d act in any given scenario. Would I be cool? Let her see the anger and disappointment that I’d harbored for years? Because I had. It was an honest and to-be-expected emotion. My mother had left me…walked out and never returned, without even a goodbye, much less an explanation. That would twist any kid, wouldn’t it?

I sat across the table from Erin on Thursday night, trying to screw up the courage to tell her what was on my mind. I’d thought about it so much over the past week that Erin’s every possible reaction had been examined, a response planned, and filed away against future need. Now that it was time, I couldn’t get the words out.

“Jon, what’s wrong with you tonight? You’ve been fidgeting like a kid since we got here,” she said, taking a sip of the wine I’d ordered to go with our steaks. I didn’t even remember what kind, I was so distracted.

“I need to ask you a favor. And I’m afraid it’s something I’ve already screwed up. You’re going to be mad at me again.”

Erin laughed. “Surely you haven’t been dating someone and telling them you’ll marry them, while sneaking out for casual dinners with me,” she said. Even though she made it a joke, I could tell she was serious about the intent behind it. I wouldn’t get another chance to even be friends if I was cheating on someone else, much less her.

“No, not exactly,” I answered.

Erin’s color drained and she set down her wine glass. “Not
exactly
? Maybe you’d better tell me
exactly
what you have been doing.”

“Well, I’ve been pretending to be someone I’m not. A woman, in fact.” The expression on her face was priceless, a mixture of incredulous amusement and bewilderment.

“Why in the world…and how?” she asked.

“Erin, I found my mother,” I said then. There was no way to break it gently or varnish it, so it came out baldly, just the fact, as if it explained what I’d been doing. Of course, it didn’t. That was going to require finesse. Erin was staring at me, and now the expression was complete bewilderment, no amusement left.

“I think that’s wonderful, Jon, but what are you trying to say?”

“I found her on Facebook, Erin. She’s been in Denver this whole time. Just an hour from here. The whole time. And she never, not once, tried to get in touch with me. What’s that about? I’ve got to know, so, I did something you probably won’t approve of.”

“I’m surprised you care one way or another, but why are you telling me this?”

“Because I need your help. She’ll know me instantly. We look so much alike, Erin, you wouldn’t believe it. I need someone else to meet her in a public place, where I can come in later. If I knocked on her door, she might slam it in my face. If she saw me in public, she might run. But, if she’s sitting with you, having coffee at Starbucks, and I come up behind her, it won’t be so easy.”

“Why me?”

“Um, because she’ll think she’s meeting someone named Erin.” This was the part I feared. I stopped without explaining any more, to give her time to react. Of all the ways I imagined her taking it, I’d missed this one.

“Are you telling me you’ve been impersonating me, or some woman named Erin, on Facebook to get close enough to your mother to get her to meet you?”

“Yeah, that’s about the size of it.”

Her face became stern. “That’s despicable. You’re stalking her! I can’t believe after all the trouble it caused you last year to pretend something that wasn’t true, you’d turn right around and do it again.” That part I expected, and I was prepared to throw myself on her mercy and play the abandoned child card, when she let out a bark of laughter that she muffled with both hands. “And I have to say, I’ve been wondering why you sometimes sound like a girlfriend around me. Oh, my God! You’ve been pretending to be a woman? That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard!”

I’m sure my mouth was hanging open.

“So, you’re not mad?”

“Of course I’m mad. I meant it when I said that’s despicable. But I’ve got to admit it’s also incredibly funny. How did you hatch this scheme, anyway?”

“Well, it isn’t like I thought it through. I just kind of did it.”

“What have you been using for a profile picture?”

“Max.”

“Oh, God, you’ve dragged an innocent dog into this, too? Jon, you are too much. How am I ever going to trust you when you keep pulling stunts like this?”

“So, will you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Will you meet her in Starbucks on Saturday and keep her talking until I can come out of hiding and surprise her?”

“Are you sure you want to do that, Jon? You might give the poor woman a heart attack.”

“Somehow I doubt it. She looks pretty healthy in her pictures. I think it’s the only way to be sure she doesn’t get away before I get some answers.”

“What are you going to do if she gets up and walks away, refuses to talk to you? Restrain her?”

“I’ll have to cross that bridge when I come to it, but I hope she won’t.”

“I would. I think I have to help you, just to see you get your comeuppance. If she does just that, don’t say I didn’t warn you. And Jon?”

“What?”

“Next time you have a hare-brained scheme like this, please run it past me first. I don’t know how often I can forgive you, and I’m trying very hard to stay friends with you.”

“Thanks, Erin. I mean really, truly, thanks.”

“You mean, for reals?”

I grinned, recognizing the chick-speak. “For reals,” I replied, sending her into gales of giggles.

~*~

Ellyn messaged me that she could meet me at the Arvada Starbucks on Wadsworth at 80th, but not until around three in the afternoon. That would mean a trip up the canyon road after dark, which didn
’t seem like a bad idea with Erin in the SUV beside me. It also gave us several hours to shop some outlying furniture stores. I hated downtown Denver, with it’s narrow, crowded streets that always seemed to be going one-way in the wrong direction for me, so I welcomed the suburban shopping experience.

I asked Erin to be ready at eight-thirty, because I really did want to get some decisions made, especially about master bedroom and living room furniture. With that, I could more or less camp out until I had the rest of the house furnished. Sure, I could have hired an interior decorator to do it all, but then I wouldn’t get the benefit of Erin’s opinion.

I was scheduled to close on the house sometime the following week, so it was imperative to do this over the weekend, even though my ulterior motive was the real reason for going to the Denver metro area instead of shopping in Boulder.

I didn’t think I had much of an opinion about furniture, but it turned out that I did. Thankfully, Erin and I seemed to have similar tastes, and I liked everything she pointed out as something she found attractive. By noon, we’d selected the bedroom furniture and a matching sofa and love seat for the living room and I had arranged for delivery on Thursday. I’d need some other pieces, and some end tables, lamps—accessories of all kinds as well as decor.

We decided to take a break and have some lunch before hitting other stores for some of those items. After that, there wasn’t a lot of time left before we’d have to drive down Wadsworth to be closer to the Starbucks. I was getting nervous, and couldn’t concentrate on such things as throw pillows when the answer to a twenty-two year old mystery was, hopefully, about to be revealed. We window-shopped without much progress until it was time.