A Love Your Neighbor Story
Chapter One
Vinnie:
My best friend, Suzette, is sprawled next to me on the loveseat. We are both wearing comfy fuzzy jammies and making serious inroads on the tons of junk food covering the top of the coffee table. Tradition reigns tonight, the night that Hallmark starts showing their Christmas movies. No men, no phones, no healthy food. Those are our rules.
Suze giggles like a little girl when the actress literally plows into her future love interest and knocks him over. “That’s just like you and the Holy Grail.”
“I did not knock Troy over.”
“Literal, figurative, who cares.” Suze reaches for the Oreo package. “Hey, it’s empty. We didn’t eat the whole thing already, did we?”
“No. There were only a few in there. I meant to buy some more on my way home, but I forgot.” A commercial is on, so I stand up and stretch my legs. We’re already on our second movie. I’m not sure I’ll make it through our traditional three. “Here, hand it to me, and I’ll throw it away.”
Suze hands me the empty Oreo package. She sorts through the rest of the food as I walk around the corner to the kitchen. I’m almost back to the living room when there’s a knock on the door that I recognize.
My heart leaps. The corners of my mouth curl up. I’m glad I’m not in the living room where Suze can see me. This is supposed to be a girl’s night only. I wipe the grin off my face and stroll into the living room.
Suze’s gaze darts from the door to me. Her eyebrows are lowered. “You didn’t invite Troy, did you? This is our tradition.”
I shake my head and hurry to answer the door.
“Hey, Vinnie.” Troy smiles at me.
“Hi.” If Suze wasn’t watching us from the loveseat I would throw myself at him. I haven’t seen him since last night, and it feels like forever.
He hold out a plastic grocery bag. “Sorry, I’m interrupting. I meant to bring this by earlier, but I got tied up with work. I thought you guys might want it.”
“Thanks.” I take the bag. It feels weird not to invite him in. He’s been over nearly every night since we became a couple a month ago.
He peeks over my shoulder and waves at Suzette. “Hi and bye, Suze.”
“Bye,” she hollers through a mouthful. “Movie’s back on, Vin.”
I scrunch up my face and shrug. “Sorry, Troy.”
“It’s girl’s night.” He grins and turns toward his door. “Enjoy it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
My heart wishes I was going with him as I shut the door. I sit back down and set the bag on the coffee table. Suze reaches for it as I settle into my spot. The movie is paused with the actress’s face frozen in a most unbecoming expression. I’m ready to keep going, but Suze’s nose is still in the bag.
Her eyes are huge when she looks up at me. “He’s a mind reader or something.”
“Why? What’s in there?”
Suze pulls out a package of mint flavored Oreo Thins. She tosses the bag to the side and opens the package. She bites a cookie and grins at me. “He’s definitely a keeper.”
This time I don’t hide the smile that blooms on my face because I happen to agree.
Suze twists around until she’s facing me instead of the television. She has that look on her face that tells me we’re probably not restarting the movie any time soon. “So, what’s his apartment like? Is he a neat freak or messy? Does he have curb furniture or what?”
“It looks tidy. His couch is grey, I think.”
She’s about to pop the rest of the Oreo into her mouth, but when I quit describing his apartment she lowers it. She eyeballs me for a solid ten seconds. Finally she asks, “Were you too busy kissing to notice anything?”
My face flames. I’m not a kiss and tell kind of girl, not even with Suze. “No!”
“Then give me the details.”
“I don’t know any details. I’ve never been in his apartment.” My double take mirrors hers as I realize it’s true. Troy has never invited me over. He always comes to my apartment.
“Okay, that’s bizarre. You’ve been dating for a month, and he’s your next door neighbor. How have you not been in his apartment?” She’s staring at me like I’ve sprouted antennae or something.
“I don’t know.” I shrug because I don’t want her to know how weirded out I am by the realization. “He always comes over here.”
“I hate to say this, but he has to be hiding something.” Suze shakes the half eaten Oreo at me. Dark crumbs drop and lodge in the fuzz of her pajamas. “It’s the only logical explanation.”
“Why?”
Suze’s head turns and she looks at my television in all its twenty seven inch glory. “All men love big screens, and I mean, big. Your TV is more like a computer monitor these days. We’d be at my apartment watching movies tonight if I had cable or satellite. I bet his TV is twice as big. If you’re watching stuff here, he’s got his reasons to not have you in his apartment.”
I stare at my TV. Deep inside I’m afraid she’s right. I know the movies he’s introduced me to would be more spectacular on a bigger screen. We’ve worked our way through all of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings movies. He’s horrified I haven’t watched all of the Marvel movies, so I suspect those are imminent. I’ve seen enough of those to know I’d appreciate the heroes even more on a bigger screen.
“Vin?”
I glance back at her.
She gives my arm a sympathetic squeeze. “Maybe I’ve watched too many movies, but you need to check it out.”
I nod.
Suze turns the movie back on, but I can’t focus on the story. Instead I’m worrying about all the possible reasons Troy has for not letting me see his apartment. Maybe he has a shrine to some ex-girlfriend. Maybe he doesn’t actually work for Mobile Application Solutions because I never heard of them before. Maybe he has a dead body in his bathtub.
I give myself a mental shake at that thought. It’s too close to Halloween for me to let my imagination have free range. I’ll give myself nightmares about monsters and zombies. Before I can stop myself, I get a mental image of Troy morphing into a werewolf and howling at the moon.
I force my eyes to focus on the screen. I will not imagine a problem where none exists.
I’m so glad when Suze decides she can’t handle a third movie and goes home. I’m being turned inside out with this whole idea that Troy doesn’t want me in his apartment.
As soon as she leaves, I run to the bathroom and brush my teeth. I have no idea if Troy is up, but I am going to find out. I don’t change my clothes because he’s already seen my pajamas and will know. I tell myself I’ve just going to say goodnight, but I’m not fooling anyone. I have to see his apartment, or I won’t be able to sleep for all the awful things I’ve imagined.
Troy:
It’s different being in my apartment. I haven’t spent a lot of time here lately, which I haven’t minded a bit. I love being in Vinnie’s apartment. It’s so homey and full of life. My apartment feels like a wasteland after time in hers.
I feel bad that I interrupted her movie night with Suze. I bought the Oreos that morning on my way to the office. I meant to give them to Vinnie when she got home, but the meeting with my newest client ran a lot longer than I expected. Suze wasn’t happy that I knocked, but I hope the Oreos make it better.
At any rate, I’m standing in my living room trying not to spend too much time thinking about how adorable Vinnie looked in those pajamas with a fox on them. If Suze hadn’t been shooting daggers at me with her eyes, I’d have swept Vinnie up and kissed her soundly. I kind of wish I had anyway.
It’s only been a month, but I don’t remember how I occupied my time before Vinnie. I like that we cook together almost every night. I enjoy playing games and watching movies. I love sharing the things that happen during our work days, especially since her nursing stories are way more interesting than my computer science related ones are.
Tonight though, I am alone and, quite frankly, a little lost.
Then I notice a fine layer of dust on my entertainment center and shelves. Cleaning isn’t my favorite thing to do, but it beats moping around until I’m tired enough to sleep. I start with the living room and work my way through the apartment. It’s not a lot since mostly it means dusting and vacuuming.
I finish in the bathroom and wander out to the living room. I glance at my watch. It’s nearly eleven. It’s late enough that I doubt Vinnie will knock once Suze leaves. I realize now that I’ve been killing time with the hope that she’ll want to see me before she goes to bed.
I rub my hand across my burning eyes and consider calling it a night. It really is too late to hope.
Then I hear Vinnie’s door shut. A shadow passes in front of my windows. It has to be Suze leaving. I’m tempted to go knock on her door, but I already interrupted once tonight. It might be better if I settle for a good night text.
I’m hunting around my spotless apartment for my phone when I hear a knock at my door. I smile at the wall and pump my fist. Apparently, it’s not too late, and I couldn’t be happier.
I open the door and pull her into my arms. I kiss her the way I wanted to earlier. She clings to me, but her kiss feels tentative and unsure. I stop and gaze at her.
My smile slips when I see Vinnie’s pale face. She looks like she’s on the verge of tears. “What’s wrong?”
She looks over my shoulder into my apartment. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” My chest tightens, but I step back so she can enter. I’m glad I cleaned everything, but it’s not going to help her impression any.
She stops short. I see the surprise she thinks she’s hiding.
“It’s so…”
“Grey?” I suggest. “Depressing?”
Her eyes are huge when she turns to me. “I was going to say modern.”
I glance around my living room at the angular couch and matching chairs on their thin wooden peg legs, the gray blunt lines of the entertainment center and shelves, and empty walls. “You could use bleak and sterile. I do.”
“Why do you have this,” her forehead wrinkles as she waves her hand at the furniture, “if you don’t like it?”
“That is a truly long and miserable story.” It’s not one I want to share in particular. I don’t like reliving those experiences, or admitting how caught up in an idea I was.
Vinnie folds her arms underneath her chest and arches her eyebrows. I suspect she thinks she looks intimidating, but the fuzzy pajamas and slippers ruin the effect. She’s too cute.
Cute but serious. I sigh. “You might as well try to get comfortable.”
She gives me a confused look that lasts until she sits down on the couch. “Oh, wow. It’s hard as a rock.”
She claps a hand to her mouth as her face flames.
I chuckle and sit down next to her. My amusement dies fast when I think about what I’m going to say. “About three years ago I met someone who was gorgeous, smart, and successful, and it was flattering when she started flirting with me. I fell hard.”
Vinnie’s whole body stiffens. She looks down and starts picking at her pajamas.
“About six months into our relationship, Grace started making small suggestions about things I should do or ways I could improve myself. I wanted her to be happy so I made an effort to please her. When she said she didn’t like the way red looked with my hair, I stopped wearing it. When she didn’t like my glasses, I got contacts.”
Vinnie’s head shoots up. She peers at me. “You wear contacts?”
“Turns out that Grace was right about that one. I look a lot less geeky with contacts.”
“There’s nothing wrong with glasses,” says Vinnie with a frown. “And you look great in red.”
“Um, thanks.” I love that she wants to defend me, but if I don’t get this story out now, it might never happen. “Anyway, Grace slowly but surely molded me into what she thought was the perfect boyfriend, and I went along with it because I was afraid of losing her. I moved into a new trendy apartment downtown and let her decorate it because I just knew we were going to get married.”
I know Vinnie’s getting angry as her lips get thinner and thinner. Her hands are clasped together on her lap, and her knuckles are turning white. I wish that was the worst of the story, but it isn’t. I take a deep breath and continue.
“Eighteen months into the relationship, I decided to propose. I bought the ring and everything. When I asked her, she told me no because I wasn’t man enough for her.” I swallow hard. These particular memories haunt me. “I proved her right a few seconds later when I begged and pleaded with her to change her mind.”
Vinnie shakes her head.
“I know. It was a mistake. I realize that now.” I heave a sigh. “All of it was a mistake. I should have listened to Mr. Wilder when he told me to get out while I could.”
“Who is Mr. Wilder?” asks Vinnie.
“Grace’s dad. He told me that the first time I met him. I’m still not sure if he was joking.”
“Ouch.”
“Yep.”
Both of us are quiet. I don’t have a clue what she’s thinking. I wish I did.
“How long has it been since you broke up?” she asks in a small voice.
“It’s October, so about fifteen months.”
Vinnie’s big brown eyes search my face. “Do you still love her?”
“Of course not.” I scoot closer and put my arm around her shoulders, but she doesn’t snuggle into me like she normally does. “It took me a few dark months to realize what she had done to me, but once I saw the truth I was so grateful she broke up with me. I lost who I was when I was with her, and I didn’t like the man I became so I left. I found this apartment and started over.”
I’m startled when Vinnie stands up.
She takes a few steps and turns around to face me. Her face is pinched and miserable. “Why do you still have the furniture she picked if you aren’t in love with her? Why keep it?”
I don’t have an answer. I know Vinnie knows I don’t have one because she turns on her heel and marches out my door.
I should follow her and make sure she knows I love her, but I’m paralyzed by the emotions her question evokes.
Vinnie:
Tears streak my cheeks before I get to my door. I can’t believe he didn’t try to stop me.
Once I am inside my apartment I turn the deadbolt. I ignore the mess on my coffee table and shut off all the lights. I feel my way down the hall and into my room. I close that door before I turn on the light. I don’t want to give Troy any indication I am still awake if he decides to check my window.
The first thing I do is pull out my laptop. I settle on the bed and google the woman my boyfriend wanted to marry. I click on the first link which takes me to a picture. I wish I hadn’t when I see Troy wearing a tuxedo and smiling at the blonde bombshell on his arm. She screams sex appeal in a body hugging short sheath that displays all her assets including a set of long gorgeous legs. Her stiletto shoes are the kind very tween dreams of owning. Her hair is perfect. Her makeup is flawless. She is a knockout.
I’ve never felt so mousy in my life. I like Milky Ways too much to compete with her body that curves in only the right places. I’d never in a million years pour my body into the dress she’s wearing or kill my ankles in those shoes. I don’t even know how to put on the false eyelashes she’s so expertly employing on Troy in the picture. He looks properly smitten. I’m sure I’ve never seen that expression on his face. No wonder he still has the furniture.
I wonder where they were when the picture was snapped. I can’t help it because in the month we’ve been together, Troy hasn’t taken me anywhere. I never thought about it until this moment, but now I can’t help feeling like he doesn’t want to be seen with me because I don’t measure up to his previous standard.
I check her Facebook and LinkedIn profiles. She’s on track to be a partner in the most exclusive law firm in the city. Troy is right. She’s gorgeous. She’s smart. She’s successful. She is everything I am not.
I’m a sobbing mess by the time my laptop battery dies.
Troy:
I lie in bed, but I can’t sleep. The hurt on Vinnie’s face haunts me. I toss and turn, but every time I close my eyes all I see is the pain in her beautiful eyes. I caused that pain. I want to erase it, but I can’t until I can figure out why I still have all the awful furniture that Grace chose.
It’s after one in the morning when I finally give up and turn my light back on. I put on my glasses and study the bedroom furniture.
Grace told me my old comfortable stuff would stick out like a sore thumb in my new apartment. I knew she was right and I could afford new furniture, but I regret not following my instincts at the furniture store.
I don’t like the flat smooth fronts of the dresser and nightstands without any handles. I’ve jammed my fingers more than once in the grooves on the top that are supposed to be used for pulling them out. I despise the peg like legs that stick out at angles instead of going straight down. The grey color is blah. Not even the navy colored bedding liven up the room.
With a sigh I make the short trek to the living room, but it’s still full of the hard angular furniture that more or less reminds me of Grace’s personality. The dining room is more of the same with its oddly angled chair legs supporting more hard grey seats. I lean against the wall and really study the chair closest to me. I remember Grace delighting over the designer and the statement he made with his chairs, but all I see is more peg legs, just longer than the rest.
It occurs to me that I’ve mentally described all of my furniture as pirates. I snort over the unfairness of that description. At least pirates liked colorful clothes.
Everything I own is as hard, cold, and unforgiving as Grace, so why have I kept it all?
My knees give out when the answer dawns on me. I sink to the floor as realization laps over me in crushing waves of self-awareness. I’ve kept the furniture as a form of punishment, a constant reminder of what I lost, and I’m not referring to Grace. In trying to please Grace, I let everything go that made me who I am.
Alone and cold, I sit there on the dining room floor. My head tilts back until I’m staring at the popcorn texture on the ceiling and wondering if my self-inflicted penance has shattered my relationship with Vinnie.
Chapter Two
Vinnie:
My parents are suspicious but welcoming when I show up at their house early Saturday morning with my laundry and the feeble excuse that I want to spend time with them. It doesn’t take long for Mom to pry the truth out of me. She isn’t sympathetic. She tells me I am running away from my problems instead of acting like a grown up. Smart alecky me responds that I’ll be a grown up on Monday.
Now it’s Monday evening. It’s time to put on my big girl pants and … oh, who am I kidding. I’m not ready to face this loss with any kind of dignity. I tiptoe up the stairs with my basket of clean laundry in my arms. My overnight bag is slung over my shoulder. I’m hoping I can sneak past Troy’s windows without being caught because I resemble a raccoon more than a human after a weekend of little to no sleep. Maybe I’m a zombie like one of my patients accused me of being, since tomorrow is Halloween.
I reach Troy’s lit window and pause. The blinds are open. I can see the barest glimpse of wall from where I stand. I think about ducking down and squat walking underneath the light pouring through his blinds. It sounds painful, but not as painful as seeing Troy and knowing I’ll never measure up.
I squat.
I take a step. It hurts my hips, but I can do it.
His door opens.
I shoot upright like a clown out of a cannon. My folded scrubs and delicates fly up into the air. Most of them land back in the basket in a jumble, but the wind catches my favorite camisole just right. It fills the silky fabric like sails on a boat and sends it sideways. The camisole skims the railing and falls in a flutter of fuchsia lace.
My face is on fire. I don’t want to look at Troy, but I can’t resist.
His wide interested eyes follow the arc of my camisole before they return to me. He has a slight grin on his face.
I want to bury my face in my laundry and never look up. Instead I push past him to my door. My hand shakes as I try to unlock it.
“Vinnie?”
I hear the concern in his voice, and it claws at me. I don’t want his pity. I don’t want to be second best. Tears well, but I blink them back and slide the key into the lock.
“Please, Vinnie,” he says. His voice has a desperate edge to it now.
Without looking at him, I shake my head. I can’t deal with this. I can’t hear him confess that he still has feelings for Grace.
My door opens, and I rush in. I close it and ram the deadbolt home. I don’t even care about losing my favorite camisole. I cannot face the heartbreak on my doorstep.
Some grown up I turn out to be.
Troy:
The door slams in my face. The deadbolt shoots home with a decisive click.
I’ve been waiting since five o’clock for this moment. I was so excited to show Vinnie what I’ve done so she will know how I feel, and it flopped. I should have sent all the texts I typed and deleted. I should have called.
I stand there waiting for her light to come on. I have this idea that if I knock long enough she’ll open the door, but the light never comes on.
Somehow I have to fix this. I have to get her to look at me, talk to me so I can show her. What can I do?
Then I remember the tank top.
I run down the stairs and scan the area in front of our building, but it’s too dark. I take the stairs two at a time on my way back up for a flashlight. I will look all night if I have to because Vinnie is the only woman who lives on this side of the building, and I don’t want the other guys to see something I suspect she considers underclothing.
With the flashlight, the hot pink tank top is easy to spot. I scoop it up and take it back upstairs.
It’s a mess. Stalks of dead grass and bits of brown leaves have worked themselves into the lace layer. I can’t return it like that. I spend the better part of an hour pulling out each speck.
I try not to spend too much time thinking about what I’m cleaning. My imagination doesn’t need any help or encouragement, but still, I can’t help being surprised. Vinnie’s scrubs are playful because she’s a pediatric nurse. The rest of her clothes seems to fall into the practical and comfortable realm. I’m certainly not an expert, but this pink lacey tank top screams sexy more than practical. It’s unexpected, mostly because she’s so modest. She has no idea how utterly appealing that modesty is to me.
After the tank top is clean I find a plastic sack to put it in. I can’t imagine trying to hand it to her when she won’t even look at me. Her apartment in still dark when I go outside, so I tie the sack to her door handle. Making sure she gets her tank top back is the least I can do after all the pain I’ve unintentionally caused.
Vinnie:
It’s near midnight, and I keep picturing a stranger finding my camisole. The mental image makes me squirm in my bed. It’s so unfair that the wind blew away my favorite. Why couldn’t it have blown away the worn out white one with pit stains that I keep meaning to throw away?
I can’t stand it. I throw back the covers. After slipping on my tennis shoes, I find my emergency flash light and flick it on. It still has batteries so I am set to brave the cold night and biting wind to retrieve my favorite camisole before it gets too grimy to keep.
I peer through the peek hole in my door. All I see is black. This disappoints me, which is beyond dumb. It’s not like I really expect Troy to camp out on my doorstep when I know he’s not going to pick me over the memory of Miss Perfect.
I leave my light off as I unlock the deadbolt. There’s no sense in alerting Troy if he’s still awake. The handle twists in my hand as I ease the door open. The cold north wind rushes into my apartment as the door swings open, but it’s not unbearable. Everything is going great until I brush the edge of the door on my way out.
Something rustles and skims across my hip. I feel it sliding across my skin through the threadbare leggings I am wearing. Then it settles against the door with a muffled whump.
My heart is in my throat, choking off my shriek before it rips the quiet night. My hands are shaking as I flip on the flashlight. The beam reflects off white plastic. It nearly blinds me. Blinking, I flick the light to the floor.
Then I see it. Someone has tied a plastic grocery sack to my door handle.
It has to be from Troy.
To be honest, I’m almost afraid to touch the bag. What if he gave up on talking to me? What if this is my last contact with him besides awkward meetings on the sidewalk?
I’m trembling as I untie the bag. Maybe it’s the cold. Maybe it’s nerves.
My guts churn as I stare at the sack. It isn’t heavy, but I’m almost afraid to look inside it. Despite the cold wind raising goosebumps on my arms, I break out in sweat. Acidic regret burns through me. I don’t want this to be the last contact I have with Troy. Maybe he won’t choose me, but I have to know for sure. I can’t spend the rest of my life thinking about what might have been.
My flashlight turns the plastic bag pink when I shine the light inside. Fuchsia lace and fabric greet my gaze. He found and returned my camisole.
I pull the camisole out of the sack and hold it up. Even in the feeble light of my flashlight I can tell it is immaculate. Troy must have picked it up immediately for it to be this clean.
Heat and hope flare in my chest as I watch the dangling camisole swing in the wind. Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe Troy will choose me after all.
Chapter Three
Vinnie:
I couldn’t get home fast enough after work, but now I’m wasting precious time agonizing over what to wear. I want to look amazing when Troy opens his door. I have a plastic pumpkin full of his favorite goodies to hand him as I apologize for avoiding him. It’s probably not going to be a fun conversation, but a future with him is worth it. In the mean time, I need to figure out a killer outfit.
My thought makes me giggle. It IS Halloween after all, and that gives killer outfit a whole different meaning. Unfortunately, it might be easier to dress as a creepy murderer than as a sexy girlfriend because I’m not seeing much in my closet that inspires me. The sad truth is that I own dresses for church and then a bunch of casual clothes. My career didn’t give me a closet stocked with amazing cocktail dresses and fancy shoes.
Every minute I spend regretting my lack of suctioned on dresses and ankle spraining shoes is a minute I don’t get to spend with Troy. That’s unacceptable after nearly seventy two hours of not seeing him so I finally choose my favorite pair of skinny jeans, and a loose blush sweater. The sweater has a loose crocheted pattern with a wide v neck that necessitates the use of a camisole. I choose my lacey fuchsia one.
I study myself in the mirror. I like the tiny flashes of fuchsia under the lighter pink sweater. I feel pretty. Maybe I don’t look as hot as Grace did in that dress, but I’m a lot more comfortable dressed as I am. The flats I slip on also won’t break my ankles or make me limp after a few minutes.
My doorbell rings before I have time to touch up my makeup. I can’t believe I have a trick or treater when I didn’t even turn on my porch light. I rush to the living room and grab some of the chocolates off the coffee table still sporting the junk food from Friday’s movie marathon.
Overwhelming amounts of bright yellow and blue make me blink when I open the door. It take a couple of seconds for me to realize it is a giant Minion. A few seconds later I recognize Troy’s tentative smile. I blink and then start at his feet and work my way up.
It really is Troy standing on my doorstep in Minion footed pajamas complete with three hairs sprouting from the top of the hood. He’s holding out an adorable ceramic bowl shaped like a pumpkin and heaped with bite sized Milky Ways.
His smile broadens. “Happy Halloween, Vinnie.”
“Happy Halloween.”
“Here, this is for you.” He extends his arms so the bowl is practically touching me.
“Um, thanks.” I look at the bowl, but my hands are already full of chocolates. “Can you bring it in?”
“Sure, but I can’t stay,” he says as he walks into my apartment. There’s a cheerful bounce in his steps.
My heart plunges to my toes, but I make myself smile. “Big plans?”
Troy glances up from the coffee table. He stands there awkwardly holding the bowl because there’s not any clean space on the table. “Actually, yes. A party.”
I drop the chocolates back in their bag and sweep the debris to one side so he can set the bowl down. “Sounds fun.”
“I think so.” He straightens up and turns toward the door.
“Um, Troy?” He looks back at me. I know he probably needs to get going, but I’m human enough to wish he looked sadder about it. “Can you wait for a moment? I have something for you too.”
“Sure thing.”
I hurry down the short hall to my bedroom. My plastic pumpkin and goodies look like a pathetic peace offering now that I know he’s in a rush to go somewhere else, but it’s all I have.
When I come back I hand it to him. I can’t quite meet his eyes so I gaze at the G on his pajama’s overalls as I take the plunge. “I’m sorry I walked out on you on Friday night, and I’m really sorry I ignored you last night. I should have acted more like an adult and less like a sulky child. I hope you will forgive me.”
Now that I’m finished, I look up. Troy’s mouth is twisted to one side, and his eyebrows are scrunched together. I’m not sure why he seems to be wavering between disappointment and irritation, but it doesn’t help me feel any better.
Then his face smooths. He burst out laughing, a deep belly laugh. It’s the kind of laugh I adored before I found out about Grace. Tonight it exasperates me because I have no idea what he thinks is so hilarious. “It’s really rude to laugh when someone apologizes!”
Troy chokes on his laughter. “Sorry, Vinnie. I’m not trying to be rude. Honestly, I’m not.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
He gives me one of those asymmetrical grins I love as he puts down the pumpkin. I’m trying to decide if I should be furious as he crosses the space between us. My instincts say yes, but my heart demurs with a pitter patter.
Troy cups my face with both hands before he leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead. There’s a lilting hint of amusement in his voice when he says, “You just sort of ruined my apology. I had this great plan, but you beat me to it.”
I’m torn between the desire to kiss him and the need to know what he’s talking about. Curiosity wins. “What plan?”
“Well, I was going to call you in a minute and beg you to be my date to the Halloween party, but I wasn’t sure you’d answer your phone so I brought the chocolate to soften you up.”
I shiver as his fingertips skim my neck as he moves his hands to my shoulders and then my back as he pulls me close. The fact that he wants to take me somewhere makes me happy. Resting my head on his shoulder I ask, “Where is this party?”
“It’s a real exclusive event. Only the best people are invited.”
He sounds so serious that my back stiffens. Visions of him in a tuxedo with Grace on his arm fill my mind. I pull away to stare at him through narrowed eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I’m hosting the party, and you are my guest of honor.”
I scrub my clammy palms on my jeans as I think. I’m not sure where the two of us stand, and he wants me to meet people who are important to him. What are they going to think about me? Do I need to figure out some kind of costume that won’t look like a last minute afterthought? Unlike the rest of my sweaty self, my mouth is so dry that I can’t ask.
He smiles at me. “Did I mention it is exclusive?”
I nod.
“And only the best people are invited?”
I nod again.
“Will you be my date tonight?”
I nod a third time, and then words find me again. “Do I need to wear something different?”
Troy’s gaze sweeps over me. His eyes brighten when he notices the top of the fuchsia camisole in the v of my sweater, but he doesn’t let his gaze linger. “Why would you change? You look amazing.”
The desire to kiss him returns a hundred fold. This time I give into it and fling my arms around his neck.
After a thorough kiss, Troy holds me close and whispers, “I missed you, Vinnie.”
“I missed you too.”
“Will you ever forgive me for not following you on Friday night?” he asks with his lips against my temple. “I was so shocked by your question that I didn’t know what to do.”
A familiar weight presses on my heart. This is what I’ve been dreading since Friday. I pull away and wrap my arms around myself. “Do you know the answer to that question now?”
His face flushes, but he doesn’t look away. “I never thought about it until you asked, and it took me some time to realize why I never bothered to get rid of the furniture. I suppose I had myself convinced that I spent good money on it, and it was a waste to get rid of it. The truth is that I kept it as a reminder.”
I hug myself tighter as cold uncertainty sweeps over me. How could he kiss me like that if he was still in love with Grace?
His gaze falls. His hands ball into fists at his sides. “I wanted to remember how it felt to lose everything that makes me who I am. I kept it to remind me that I don’t want to be with someone who thinks I need to change who I am to be with her.”
I take my first good breath in a minute as he looks back up.
“Technically, I kept it because of Grace, but not because I still love her. I don’t like her any more than I like that furniture. Once I realized that, it was easy to let it go.”
“What do you mean?”
Troy’s face brightens as his asymmetrical smile blooms. “Come to my party and find out.”
Troy:
I’m bouncing on the balls of my feet as I pause in front of my apartment door. Vinnie’s giving me a funny look, but I can’t contain my excitement. I’ve been waiting for this moment since yesterday afternoon.
Vinnie gasps as she steps into my apartment. She darts a quick glance at me before turning to examine the room.
I watch her take in the reclaimed wood entertainment console before her gaze moves to the painting of a herd of wild horses over the top of the new brown leather sectional with matching ottoman. I chose that sectional with her in mind. I want us to sit together, so I made sure to buy something soft and comfortable to make snuggling together more enjoyable. I even bought a couple of throw pillows.
She whirls around. Her brown eyes are wide and maybe even a little teary. “You changed it!”
I nod and grab her hand. “Come on, let me show you the rest.”
“There’s more?”
“I know you never saw it, but the rest of my apartment was full of the same kind of stuff.” I pull her down the hallway toward my bedroom. “Everything was grey, miserable, and had peg legs.”
I flip on the bedroom light and step aside. I’m proud of the sturdy wood frame with its solid square legs and traditional headboard. The dresser and two bedside tables make the set. I like the blue and white bedding set I found. I’m personally impressed that I bought extra pillows for the decorative pillow case things that came with the set, but I did that because I knew I was going to show Vinnie if she gave me the chance.
“This is great.” Vinnie squeezes my hand. “I like how relaxing it looks.”
“I’m glad you like it.” I tug her closer and give her a shoulder hug. “Are you ready for a party now?”
“Sure.”
She doesn’t sound very sure, but I know she’s going to love it once she catches on. Tonight is all about showing her how much she means to me, and I can’t think of a better way than what I have planned. “I’ll meet you in the living room once I’m out of these pajamas, and we can get started.”
Vinnie disappears down the hall almost before I finish talking. I shut the door and unzip the Minion pajamas. I shrug them off and throw them in the closet. Thankfully it’s a lot cooler without the pajamas layered over my clothes. I’ll be forever grateful to my mom for the touch of whimsy the pajamas gave me in my campaign to win over Vinnie tonight, but I want to look my best for the rest of the evening, especially since Vinnie looks so great.
I find her stretched out on the sectional with her bare feet on the ottoman. She’s staring at my television hanging on the wall. The sight is almost more than I can handle because she looks so at home and comfortable. The overwhelming sense of belonging I feel around her fills my chest.
She catches sight of me and drops her feet to the floor as she sits up. “Where is this party at?”
“It’s here.”
She cocks her head to one side. “What time is everyone coming?”
I can’t help the smile on my face as I say, “Everyone important is already here.”
Vinnie lifts her eyebrows. “You mean it’s just you and me?”
“I told you it was exclusive, didn’t I?” I hold out my hand and help her to her feet when she takes it. “I invited the woman who owns the key to my heart.”
She sways toward me. I know she wants me to kiss her so I do.
Vinnie:
I’m sitting across from Troy at his new dining room table. Our feet are tangled together underneath the table. I think neither one of us really wants to let the other out of reach, but we’re in the midst of a secretive pumpkin carving contest. I peek around my huge pumpkin that I carved in a traditional look, but Troy refuses to meet my eyes. He also refuses to share any details about his design. I keep an eye on the pieces he discards, but they are all irregular chunks that give nothing away.
“Troy?” I bat my lashes at him when he looks up from his pumpkin. “Are you sure I can’t have a teeny tiny hint?”
“Your feminine wiles aren’t going to work on me.” He tries so hard to sound stern, but he can’t quite manage it. His eyes are twinkling. “This is a competition.”
My bottom lip pokes out. I give him my best puppy eyes.
He chuckles. “It’s a good thing you’re across the table. If you were any closer I’d be tempted to kiss that pout away.”
I start to stand.
He shakes his head. “If you leave that chair you automatically forfeit.”
“Kissing you is worth forfeiting.”
“Or we can finish, and I’ll kiss you anyway.”
With a dramatic sigh I slump against the back of my chair and pick up my biggest carving tool even though I’m done. “I suppose I can wait a little longer.”
“Good, because I’m done.” He sets the little knife down and grins at me.
“Really?”
“Yep.” He stands up and reaches for the candles at the end of the table.
He hands me one of the candles and a long charcoal lighter. I stick my candle in the pumpkin and light it through the generous triangle nose.
He lights his and then shuts off the light. Shadows dance on his face as he asks, “On the count of three?”
I count out loud. On three I swivel my pumpkin. My candle is wobbly so I take my time. Once it’s around I look up. Light flickers through two huge hearts and a big half circle on Troy’s pumpkin.
He carved the heart eye emoji.
I glance up at him and smile. “You win! I absolutely love it.”
“I love you, Vinnie, and only you.” His knuckles turn white as he grips the back of his chair. “I don’t want you to ever doubt that again.”
I look at the pumpkin and then at him. I’m not sure exactly what he sees in me, but I believe him. All the doubt and uncertainty of the weekend vanishes. In this moment I know I am who he wants, and it’s enough.
He’s standing there waiting for a response.
I run around the table and jump into his waiting arms. “I love you too.”
Karen Tezen Writes 