The Best Friend (28 page)

What woman would sit around considering what she could or could not prepare for a meal? His mind started wandering to all the different situations that could arise in which his damn amputation could become an issue. He really couldn’t hang out with her beyond this. It would never work. It was part of why he remained so reclusive. He could not stand the attention his handicap aroused. Much less, the sympathy.

It was part of why he became so difficult at times. He was always on edge, expecting the next obstacle that he’d have to try and overcome with his fumbling inability to do things. When would he next need to have his freaking meal cut up for him?

“Sooo—”

He glanced up at Gretchen’s drawn out “so,” and raised his eyebrows, waiting for her question.

“So what were you doing today?”

“Nothing until about five o’clock when my mother  makes dinner for me and my dad.”

“And now?”

“Now what?”

He knew he said something wrong for she pursed her lips up as if in annoyance. “Now… are you going to invite me over to have dinner with you?”

He lowered the glass of orange juice and stared up at her with a frown, perplexed. “Do you want me to ask?”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to be this obtuse with everything? Will I have to spell out everything?”

“Everything? As in…”

“Us. See? You were doing it again.”

“Us?” he grimaced when her eyebrows lowered into a stormy expression. Okay, he’d done it a third time. He just didn’t know when to believe her.

“Us, as in, my God, Tony! Get a clue.” She nearly gritted her teeth at him as she stood up, scraping her chair on the hardwood floor before grabbing her plate and nearly shattering it when she tossed it into the sink.

“Uh, Gretchen, will you come to dinner tonight?”

She turned toward him, glaring. “Yes. Obviously. Even though I had to convince you to ask me. Anyway, will you come somewhere with me first?”

“Where?”

“To Olivia’s. In fact, I need to get there by ten. That’s why breakfast was so early. She and Helen are expecting me for a brunch, and of course, to give her some presents.”

“Yeah, I would love to see her. I don’t have anything for her, however. I already gave it to her last Thursday.”

She paused from scraping food off the pan she was scrubbing. “You bought her a present?”

“Of course.”

“What? What did you buy her?”

“I don’t know, this fashion-doll-kit-thingy she was chatting about for a few weeks.”

For some reason, Gretchen smiled. Throwing down the dish, she dried her hands and came over to him. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips. “Yes, she has been. You really should quit pretending that you’re not such a decent, kind, and wonderful man.”

He didn’t have a clue why she just said that or kissed him for it. “Well, she’s a little kid. A nice kid. Of course, I’m nice to her. And why don’t you let me do the dishes, since you cooked breakfast?”

She stepped back and smiled smugly, “See? There you go again. Okay, I’ll go get ready.”

She started down the hallway and he could have sworn she had a happy bounce to her step. Why? Because he volunteered to do the dishes? Or because he invited her to dinner? Or because he bought Olivia a Christmas present? He really wasn’t sure what he’d done to make her suddenly so happy with him. She might not be as hard to please as he used to perceive she was. In fact, maybe she was too easily pleased.

Or maybe, she too easily made him feel happy.

Chapter Seventeen

Olivia squealed and jumped up and down when she spotted Gretchen and Tony together. All smiles that were punctuated with piercing shrieks, Olivia spent the first hour showing them her new toys from Santa. Tony hung back at first, trying to hide his shocked disbelief. Olivia lived in a small apartment, and apparently slept on the sofa, while her terminally ill grandmother, Helen, lay, now nearly bedridden, in the only small bedroom.

Gretchen explained to him in detail how sick Helen was; and although he had known Olivia for three months, the little girl never once mentioned that her grandmother was dying. How could someone so young keep that bottled up inside? And how could she find so much happiness in her life still? Gretchen wasn’t sure exactly how much Olivia really understood regarding what would soon be happening to her.

Olivia had no other family: no parents and no relatives. All of a sudden, Tony felt nothing but a sense of deep compassion for her as well as being angry with himself for not picking up on the unspoken, tragic circumstances of the sweet, guileless, little girl’s history.

Olivia was just happy to have them both there. Tony spotted a small, fake tree in the corner that was adorned with more handmade ornaments than store-bought ones. Gretchen provided the entire meal. Much to his surprise, she froze the whole thing so it could easily be re-heated and ready to serve at the small, four-person table. Helen even came to the table, wearing a smile that was soft and strained, but genuine. Tony instantly realized that missing an arm wasn’t a death sentence. He was sitting now close to someone who was very close to that and he found a kinship with Helen that he rarely knew with anyone else. She seemed to know and probably felt the same thing towards him in return.

Gretchen had a slew of presents for both of them. When it was time to leave, Tony questioned whether to take Olivia, but Gretchen explained that Helen wanted all the time she could possibly share with little Olivia; and this would be her last Christmas; of that, there was no doubt.

Shooting about fifty pictures of every single thing that happened over the five hours that they spent there, Gretchen was mainly focused on candid shots of Helen with Olivia.

Gretchen and Helen had a long talk, which left Gretchen on the verge of tears. They finally tore themselves away and headed down the sidewalk to her car. Tony kept quiet, sensing the gravity of something much more there.

“What will happen to her?”

Gretchen glanced up at him and sucked in a slow lungful of air. “Can we talk about it later? It’s Christmas. I had a lovely day with them, and I’m having just as lovely a time with you. I’d like that to continue.”

He shifted in the seat and stared outside the car. “Yeah, there’s always time for reality later, isn’t there?”

She eyed him sharply, but didn’t comment.

They pulled into Tony’s driveway. As they entered his parents’ house, Leila looked up from where she was mixing a batter in her countertop mixer. Lewis was in the living room, reading the paper; and they both paused and stared with their mouths nearly wide open when Tony and Gretchen walked in. An odd, uncomfortable silence hung between the four of them. He previously texted his mother, letting her know he wouldn’t be coming home, and also, informing her of the guest who was coming to dinner. No doubt, she easily figured out why he didn’t come home, and damn, if he didn’t almost begin blushing under his parents’ attention.

Ms. Manners, however, wouldn’t allow him to simply ignore the awkward tension in the room. She walked around him towards his mother, while he shuffled towards the counter, following behind Gretchen.

“Hi Leila, I hope it’s okay if I join you.”

“So happy to have you, Gretchen…”

He quit listening immediately. Of course, his mother was thrilled that a woman was joining him, let alone, a normal, beautiful, wonderful woman like Gretchen. He excused himself to run downstairs and put clean clothes on. Although he tucked his white shirt in to go to Olivia’s, trying to look somewhat respectable, he was now rumpled and wrinkled. He changed his clothes and soon joined his father who was watching college football. After the simple hellos, Tony noticed his dad’s secret smile. It was hard not to grin back at his dad’s meaning:
Nice going, son. She’s hot.
Lewis, however, would never have talked about a woman like that. He had to be relieved to know his son seemed to still have some interest in sex. No doubt, his parents knew he didn’t often leave the house, so they had to know he wasn’t exactly getting any.

Soon, the meal was ready and they were called to the table. His mother, like Gretchen, also set a formal, festive table. It was something neither he nor Lewis would bother doing. His mother’s ham, fresh baked bread, homemade baked beans, and salad was melt-in-your-mouth delicious. She set Tony’s plate in front of him, with the ham cut into small bites. He refused to raise his eyes to Gretchen while wondering, did she or his mother cut it up? Not that it mattered. It had to be done although it managed to bring his scowl back. He hated having only one fucking arm and the restrictions it put on his life. Conversation was easy and casual, and he eventually ate enough to cause him some slight discomfort.

Finally, the meal ended as both women rose in unison and started clearing the table. He leaned back and finished the beer his mother handed him, pausing in conversation when Lewis left the room. Gretchen sat quickly next to him.

“Why were you scowling?”

“When?”

“At dinner? You were fine, then, all at once, you weren’t.”

“Oh. Just wondering who cut up my food.”

“I figured as much. Me. I did it. I am well aware of what you can and can’t do. I mean, do we have to keep pretending it’s not so? Or could we just act like grownups now and deal with it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. Her breasts poofed up against her arms and his gaze stayed there a little too long. She sighed. “Don’t make me do it.”

“Do what?”

“Start stripping again. If that’s the only time you can be nice, then you’ll have a real interesting time explaining to your parents why I’m suddenly standing naked in their living room.”

At least, her ultimatum made him smile. He smirked and shook his head. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would too, if it improves your behavior.”

“My behavior isn’t that bad.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Go ahead, strip away. As if I’d stop that. You’d be rewarding me.”

“Until your father started eyeing up my tits. That would probably bother you.”

His eyes gleamed in humor and smile filled his face. At least Gretchen could find a way to finally make him smile and not take every single situation, good or bad, so serious. “You’d never do it.”

“Try me. It’s Christmas, and I don’t like your bad mood. So try me.” Her hand went to the hem of her shirt and she started to lift it up. His hand shot out and wrestled her wrist until she was still.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll smile. See?” He forced his mouth into a fake grin.

“Keep this conversation in mind. You stop being nice. I strip.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

She got up, carrying the used salad bowl, and kissed his cheek as she said, “You love me and you know it.”

Turning, she sauntered into the kitchen and started washing dishes with his mother. She didn’t notice how he froze in horror at her words. Did she really say
that?
His stomach cramped and he fisted his hand.
Love? No, sex.
They were barely having sex. She just meant it casually, and in a quick way. Not that she thought they were…
No,
he would not think about it anymore.

****

“Leila? Is anything wrong?”

Leila glanced up swiftly at Gretchen. They had just finished dessert and the men were out talking and watching TV. Leila was putting the leftover pie in a container. Gretchen was getting a weird vibe from Leila ever since she came in. Leila didn’t meet her gaze or talk directly to her. It was very evident she had her own opinion about the capacity in which Gretchen was there with Tony.

Her mouth tightened. “Are you spending the night?”

“Um, well, I don’t know. Maybe? I haven’t discussed that with Tony. And I don’t assume anything with Tony.”

“He doesn’t need it, you know.”

What? Sex?
Leila thought he didn’t need sex? It made no sense to Gretchen. It’s not like Tony was still sixteen. Why would Leila care about his sex life? Did the idea of it really offend her sentiments that much?

“What do you mean?”

“You! He doesn’t need you doing this. What do you think that accomplishes?”

“I wasn’t trying to accomplish anything. I like your son. It’s not unusual for two adults to end up together after that occurs.”

Why were they having this discussion? Where was Leila going with it? And why? Leila had always been so nice to her, and nearly treated her like a surrogate daughter. Now, she wasn’t welcome there?

“Oh, because you’re going to settle down with him? He doesn’t work and still lives with his parents. He—”

“It’s a little early to tell anything about us, either way. Just as it would be with any man I just started to see. And I already know every single obstacle involved with him. Why are you interrogating me? You act like I’m here as some kind of predator who intends to hurt him.”

“He can’t take anymore hurt. Or anymore rejection. I wish you’d just stop. Go home. Leave him alone. He was fine before you showed up.”

Fine? How was Tony fine? Unhappy, rude, and holed up in his parent’s basement? He was not fine, as Leila herself suggested at the first dinner she shared with the Lindstroms. And as Donny well hammered home to her. How could she think that? And why was there so much animosity in Leila’s heated glare?
What was really going on?
Gretchen usually got a read on most people, but she didn’t expect to receive that kind of reaction from Tony’s mother. Not in the least.

Leila snapped the lid shut on the container and nearly slammed it into the refrigerator as she whipped around. “He has been through so much, and he’s finally reached a decent place. Maybe you don’t think it’s fine, but it actually is. It’s a hundred percent better than he was the first year after
it
happened. The last thing he needs is some stupid woman getting involved now and screwing it up for him. When he’s worked so hard just to get this far.”

Audrey.
This had to revert back to her. There had to be a story there that caused Leila to feel unreasonably fearful of Tony getting involved with anyone again, including her.