Second Chance for Romance полностью

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah. Just outside of Pittsburgh. But anyway… Christy’s Catholic too?

She isn’t a bride-of-Christ type, is she?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“A nun.”

“Oh. No. Definitely not. But the problem is, she thinks she should be.”

“That’s pretty common. Catholic guilt. I lived with it till I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

“What’d you do?”

“Ran away, as far as I could get, started working the clubs. Some darker stuff too, that I’m not proud of. Then I got my shit together, got the hell out, and made something of myself. Isn’t that what all good Catholic girls do?”

“Um… no. Not this one, at least. Well, not the first part. The last part…?

Not sure yet.”

“It can be tough. I mean, they put a lot of pressure on you.”

“That’s part of the problem. She puts a lot of pressure on herself.”

“What’d she do? Wait, lemme guess. She went to confession the day after she fooled around with you.”

“Give the lady a prize!”

She laughed. “I actually believe it when you say that.”

“What?”

“When you call me a lady.”

“You are,” I said simply. “And one I like more and more as I get to know you.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.” She fell silent for a moment. “I have to go soon. Sorry. But I’m dying to hear what happened with you and Christy.”

“Well, I didn’t react very well when she went to church. I have a bit of a history with religious girls and their sexual hang-ups.”

“Tell me about it!”

“I figured you’d understand. Anyway, I was an absolute jackass to her the next day.” I told her about Monday evening. “I more or less told her to fuck off and die. Not in so many words, but that was the gist of it.”

“Sounds like it. And you’re right, you are a judgmental asshole.”

“Told you. But what do I do? I mean… I really like this girl. That’s why I

tried to push her away. Same thing you were doing with Daphne earlier.”

“Do you want to fix things with Christy? Or do you want the other girl, Gina?”

“I don’t know. That’s the problem. Gina is… awesome. She’s fun, she’s smart, she’s pretty, she’s everything. But Christy is… I dunno. It’s hard to explain. She’s exciting. She’s pretty too, and smart in a different way. But she’s also talented and creative. She puts me to shame.”

“I remember that. Everyone in the art department talked about her.”

I nodded. “She’s also… I dunno. I can’t figure it out. Something about her just gets me worked up. One minute I want to jump her bones, the next I’m so angry I turn into mega-jerk.”

“Sounds like you do have problems,” she laughed. “Makes mine seem insignificant.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” I said. “Your problems are plenty big.”

“Thanks for reminding me— Oh, shit! I gotta go. Call me tomorrow.

Before nine o’clock. Okay? Bye!”

The line clicked.

I stared at the phone and wondered if the past hour had really happened.

Wren cornered me after she came home from the pool on Thursday. She bounced up the stairs and stuck her head into Christy’s studio. Then, as if on a whim, she poked her nose into mine.

I looked up from my painting. “Seriously? You can’t think of anything more clever than that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You can hear the water running downstairs. Christy’s in the shower. So if you’re up here, you’re looking for me.”

The pipes hammered as the water shut off. I gritted my teeth and imagined what I’d like to do to shoddy contractors.

“Well, now that you mention it…,” Wren said, completely transparent.

“Who were you talking to last night?”

I cleaned my brush and dipped it in the fresh water. Then I loaded it with brown paint and started applying it to the heavy paper. The tree trunks and branches had to dry before I could add the foliage. And I had to shade and color the building itself before I did that. I also had to put the finishing touches on an interior watercolor, so it was going to be a long night.

I’d missed Wren’s question completely. “I’m sorry… what?”

“Who were you talking to last night?”

“A friend,” I said absently. “In California.”

“Aha! I knew it.”

I looked up and automatically moved my brush to the dirty paper towels.

(You learn things like that when you accidentally drip paint on an almost-finished watercolor because you aren’t paying attention. But I digress.)

“What’re you talking about?” I said.

“You were talking to Gina!”

“No.”

“Don’t try to hide it.”

“Wren, I wasn’t talking to Gina. Besides, why do you care if I was?”

“You know why. Christy’s really upset.”

“How is that my fault? Never mind. I know how.”

“Exactly. You were a real jerk to her.”

“Yeah, I know. I’d try to explain it to her, but I think it’d only make things worse.”

“Then maybe you can explain to me.”

I sighed and dropped my brush into the dirty water. I wasn’t going to get any more work done until I satisfied Wren, and not in the way I wanted. Still, I took my time cleaning the brush and putting away the watercolors. Then I wiped my hands on a rag and hung it from a hook on the side of my desk. I still needed a real drafting table, but it would have to go on the list with all the other things I wanted to do around the house.