Second Chance for Romance

Chapter 13

We spread the word about the Halloween party. I told Freddie and a few other friends in design class. I even invited Gracie, just to try to clear the air between us. She pretended I didn’t exist. She simply stared at her notebook and turned the page.

“Seriously?” I said in exasperation. “Whatever. At least I tried.”

I ran into Andy again, this time on the way to judo class. I told him about the party and asked him to invite Jamie and their other friends.

“Um…,” he said, “I hate to ask, but what kind of party is it?”

“Just a regular party.”

“Regular, as in…?”

“It isn’t a kegger at the frat house with a bunch of assholes,” I said with a laugh.

“But will there be…?”

“People like you?” I finished.

He nodded in relief at not having to say it.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll be there. A few others too.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“But it’s what I mean.”

“Okay, sure,” he said after he mulled it over. “Sounds like fun. I’ll tell Jamie.”

“And the other guys?”

“And the other guys.”

“Awesome! See you Saturday. Oh, we’re having a costume contest, so wear something fun.”

We parted with a wave.

I told Glen about it too, but he had a party at the Kappa Alpha house.

Sometimes I forgot he was in a fraternity. He was the exact opposite of Rod and the Pikes.

I realized with a jolt that I hadn’t thought about them in a while.

Not surprisingly, I took a short and unpleasant trip down memory lane. I shook it off and tried to remember what had started it. Ah, right! Fraternities.

And sororities. Like Chi Omega. And Gina.

“Oh, shit,” I said.

Glen grinned. “Just remember something?”

“Yeah. How could you tell?”

“You looked confused.”

I shot him a rueful grin.

He shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’d better go,” I said. “Have fun at your party.”

“You too.”

“See you next week.”

I jogged home and immediately bounded up the stairs. I didn’t shower or change clothes or anything. Instead, I sat at my desk and took out my unfinished letter to Gina. I added a few more generic paragraphs about my life, very boring stuff.

I was still staring at the letter when Trip came home. He climbed the stairs from the main floor, and I listened for a moment as he banged around the master bedroom. The pipes rattled when he turned on the water for a shower. One more thing to add to the list, I thought with irritation.

I wrote a bit more, until Christy and Wren came home. They were a lot quieter than Trip, but I heard them moving around in their bedrooms. Christy eventually came upstairs and stuck her head into my studio.

“Hey,” she said. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Just studying.” I moved my notebook and covered the letter.

“Oh. Want some company?”

“Maybe later.”

Her face fell.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I said quickly. “I just… need to shower. I came home from practice and had something to do. I got so wrapped up that I lost track of time.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“You wanna tell me about your day?”

“I talked to Siobhan and showed her my sketches,” she said, her eyes bright. “She says I’m ready to make a maquette. It’s a kind of—”

“Model,” I said. “I know.”

“You would know. You seem to know more about sculpting than I do.”

“Not really. And I don’t have your talent.”

She blushed.

“Lemme go shower,” I said. “Then you can show me your sketches. I’ll show you mine for the museum. Sound good?” I had a sudden thought along the lines of I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.

She beamed. “It’s a not-date.”

I kept my thought to myself, obviously, but jerked off in the shower just to be sure.

I finally mailed Gina’s letter on Friday morning. I’d finished it the night before, in a bit of a rush. It wasn’t much more than a description of my life for several days. I thought it was deadly dull, but it was all I had.

The rest of the day was wide open, since we didn’t have classes. None of us knew for sure why, but we weren’t about to complain. Christy and Wren gave the house a thorough cleaning. Trip and I fixed a bunch of little things that had been bugging us. We also oiled and adjusted all the door locks, since we didn’t want random partygoers in our bedrooms or studios.

In the afternoon we decided to skip our workouts and aerobics and go in search of costumes instead. Trip needed a Han Solo vest and boots, as well as a toy blaster, belt, and holster. Wren already had a brown bikini, but she needed thin copper tubing and a skirt that matched. My costume was simplest, and I already had everything, but Christy’s existed solely in her imagination.

“Let’s divide and conquer,” I suggested. “Trip, you and Wren get what you need. I’ll take Christy and hit all the kids’ dress shops.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

I had the last laugh on that score. She found the perfect dress at a local department store, in the Girls & Young Misses section. It was a blue and white confection of satin and organza, clearly meant for a twelve-year-old

with a nostalgic and nearsighted grandmother. I thought it cost too much for an outfit she’d wear once, but Christy blithely wrote a check and we returned home with our find.

Trip and Wren were already there, working on her costume. We ate pizza for dinner, drank too many bottles of wine, and planned the next day’s whirlwind of activity.

Christy and I spent Saturday morning scouring stores for decorations. We spent a small fortune but came home with bags of fun. Trip and Wren did the same at the grocery and liquor stores. He was still grumbling about the cost as we unloaded bags and boxes on the dining room table.

“It’s a party,” Wren said. “Lighten up.”

“But I actually had to work for that money. It didn’t just appear, like magic, in my checking account.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she fired back.

“Never mind.”

“No, tell me. Do you have a problem?”

“Well, yeah, now that you mention it. I thought you were going to stop acting like daddy’s little princess.”

“Uh-oh,” I said under my breath to Christy. “Let’s make a run for it.

Upstairs. I’ll cover you.”

She nodded and grabbed two bags of decorations. I followed with the rest.

The fireworks heated up in our wake.

Christy’s studio was relatively quiet. And since the weather was cool and sunny, we opened the window to enjoy the fall day. We sat on the floor and cut out bats and cat shapes from black construction paper. Then we used string and an entire box of tissues to make little ghosts. (It seemed like a waste of good Kleenex to me, but I kept my mouth shut.) Finally we taped together two dozen honeycomb paper balls.

We had a lot more decorations—crepe paper, fake cobwebs, skeletons, jack-o’-lanterns, and more—but nothing else we could work on upstairs.

“Sounds quiet down there,” I said. “Want me to take a look?”

“What should I tell your mother if you don’t make it back?”

I grinned and stuck my head over the railing.

“What d’you see?” Christy whispered from the door.

“Nothing. But I don’t hear anything either. Let’s check it out.”

We slunk downstairs like burglars. Faint domestic noises came from the

other side of the house. We tiptoed through the living room to the dining room.

Trip and Wren were working in the kitchen. He was washing vegetables at the sink. She was cutting them like she held a grudge. They were together physically but light years apart emotionally.

“Um…,” I said hesitantly, “we’re gonna start decorating. If that’s okay.”

“Fine.” “Whatever.”

Christy and I looked at each other and shrugged. What else could we do?

I slid around the kitchen table. “I’m just gonna get the stepladder.”

“Go ahead.” “Whatever.”

I returned from the basement and carried the ladder through to the living room.

“What do you think?” Christy asked.

“Defcon 2. Could be worse, but it’s pretty tense in there.”

“Should we do anything?”

“Decorate for the party,” I said with a shrug. “Keep a sharp lookout. Be prepared to duck and cover.”

She grinned.

“Come on. Let’s get to work.”

We strung black and orange crepe paper and hung the honeycomb balls from the ceiling in the main rooms. Then we taped up the rest of the decorations and tried to make the place look festively scary. When we were done on the main level, we went upstairs and hung cardboard RIP tombstones on the bedroom doors, with signs that read, “Danger: Zombies! Do Not Enter.”

“Anything else we can do?” Christy asked.

“Decorate the bathroom, maybe. But we should probably wait till later.”

She looked at her watch. “Three thirty. You wanna hang out?”

“I have a better idea. Grab your swimming bag.”

She nodded and went to fetch it.

I rummaged in my dresser until I found my bathing suit and beach towel.

I emptied my judo bag and stuffed them into it.

Christy was waiting for me in the hall.

“Let’s go.”

Trip and Wren were still working together. They were making some kind of bean dip. A yeti would’ve felt at home in the kitchen.

“Hey,” I said, as innocuously as I could, “Christy and I finished

decorating. We’re going out for a bit. Good opportunity for some make-up sex, if you ask me.”

“No one asked you,” Wren said tersely.

I took my life into my hands and slid behind her. I whispered in her ear,

“He loves you, and you know it.” She tried to brush me away, but I persisted.

“Think about how much effort you’ve put into him. The next guy might not be so willing to share. Hmm?” I kissed her cheek and then patted her bottom just to annoy her.

She watched me out of the corner of her eye.

I actually had to stretch upward to speak into Trip’s ear. Sometimes I hated being only middling tall.

“Dude, she loves you. She’s beautiful, smart, and ambitious. Hell, she’s like me with tits.”

He compressed his lips but snorted a laugh anyway.

“She rocks your world and lets you sleep with other women. You will never, ever find another woman like her.”

Just for fun, I grabbed his ass too.

If they were annoyed at me, they might forget to be annoyed with each other.

I rejoined Christy and we beat a hasty retreat.

“You should’ve seen their expressions!” she laughed as we walked down the hill toward campus. “What did you say to them?”

“Told ’em they loved each other. And if they don’t kiss and make up, I’m gonna put itching powder in their underwear drawer for a month.”

She burst out laughing. “What’d you really tell ’em?”

“That,” I said, less than convincingly.

“No, really.”

I shook my head.

“You aren’t going to tell me?”

“It’d take too long to explain.”

“It took you thirty seconds to say. How long can it take to explain?”

“Oh, a decade or two, I guess.”

“What if I stick around that long?”

I glanced at her sidelong. “That’s a good question.”

We went to the pool at the Student Aquatic Center. Christy was like an otter in the water, lithe and playful. She was a better swimmer than I was, but she didn’t rub it in like Wren did. Mostly we goofed around and let off stress.

After an hour or so, we climbed out and dried off. Christy noticed me looking at her.

“What?”

“I just realized I’d never seen you in a bathing suit.”

“So, what do you think?” She let her towel fall. “Here I am in all my glory. A hundred pounds, soaking wet.”

I made a show of looking her up and down.

She frowned. “Kinda scrawny, I know.”

“Not what I was thinking.”

“Oh?”

“Well, you know what they say… good things come in small packages.

Pretty things too.”

She turned on the sun. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s get home and see what kind of carnage we have to deal with.”

We headed toward the locker rooms, and she fell into step beside me. She slipped her arm through mine and smiled up at me.

I smiled back and had to admit that I liked having her there.

Trip and Wren hadn’t killed each other. But they weren’t on the main level either. Christy and I cautiously headed up the stairs. We surprised Wren at the top. She had a towel wrapped around her and was using another to dry her hair. She was looking for something. She jumped when I cleared my throat.

“Hey, babe?” Trip called from the bedroom. “Did you find ’em?” He appeared in the doorway and quickly covered himself with his towel. “Oh.

Hey.”

“So,” I said casually, “everyone in a better mood?”

Trip grinned.

Wren summoned a glare.

“Oh, quit,” I told her.

“Where have you two been?” she said. “We have tons left to do.”

“Attention on deck!” I barked.

Christy played along and braced beside me. We saluted.

“Ensigns Hughes and Carmichael, reporting for duty.”

Christy looked at me hopefully. “Can I be a lieutenant?”

“Ensign Hughes and Lieutenant Carmichael, reporting for duty. Hold on, then you’ll outrank me.”

“You can be a commander.”

“Sounds good.” We snapped to attention again. “Attention on deck.

Commander Hughes and Lieutenant Carmichael, reporting for duty.”

“I dunno,” she said. “I kinda liked it when I outranked you.”

“You’d better be a captain, then.”

She nodded. “That works.”

“Captain Carmichael and Commander Hughes—”

“Shouldn’t you be first?”

“I thought you should. I mean, you’re the captain.”

“No, the person speaking is first.”

“Oh, right. Hadn’t thought of that.”

Wren huffed and stalked past us. “You deal with them,” she snapped at Trip.

He simply grinned.

Christy took a shower in the second-floor bathroom while I used the third.

The hot water never quite reached me. And I’d forgotten to grab my razor, toothbrush, or anything else I needed from my usual bathroom. So I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed down. I knocked on the door.

“Yes?”

“Are you decent? You mind if I get my stuff real quick?”

She opened the door and a cloud of steam escaped. She was wrapped in a towel. Her chest and face were pink from the heat.

“Well, now I know where all the hot water went.”

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think…”

“It’s okay. I’m used to cold showers.”

Her eyebrows rose with a question.

“Not for the reason you’re thinking.”

“And what was I thinking?”

“You know,” I said. “Now, can I get my stuff real quick?”

“Don’t be silly. There’s room for both of us. I’m used to it.”

“Used to it?”

“Mmm hmm. Laurence and I shared a bathroom in our house in Japan.”

She moved closer to the sink and motioned me behind her. She was short enough that I could easily see over her.

“Works for me,” I said.

She grinned at me over her shoulder. “This is how Laurie and I used to do it.”

“I’ve never heard you call him that.”

“What?”

“‘Laurie.’ You just called him Laurie.”

Her eyes misted with tears. She wiped them and forced a smile. “I guess I was thinking of him.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No. Stay. Please. I’d… like it.”

Wren yelled at us from downstairs.

“We’d better get a move on,” Christy said.

“Yep. Chop-chop.”

She laughed. “My dad says that too.”

“Must be a Navy thing.”

“Probably.”

“Christy! Paul!” Wren yelled again, even louder. “Are you coming or what?”

“We’ll be right down!” I shouted back. “Fifteen minutes.”

“We’ll have guests in fifteen minutes.”

“Then send ’em up and they can help stuff my shorts!”

Christy giggled. “She’s probably right,” she said after a moment. “We’d better hurry.”

“Yeah. So no more foolin’ around. Got it?”

“Yes, sir, captain, sir!”