“You’re welcome very much. Not that you make sense or anything, but is he gone? I didn’t hear the bike start up and my head hurts from getting slammed into the dashboard. Thanks for that too, by the way.”
“Psh, whatever.” Mel waves me off. “I’m helping you develop some character. All white girls need a little color here and there.”
“Not in the form of bruises. Come on, where is he, Mel?”
She smirks. “Oh, he’s gone.” Chuckling to herself, Mel continues, “He drove off a few minutes ago and went that way.”
I sit up and give her a girlie slap, the kind where hands are a blur of motion and it’s more annoying than anything. “You suck! We’re going to lose him.”
We pull out of the parking lot and follow Sean’s bike, leaving several cars between us. “Damn we’re conspicuous. The only way we’d be more noticeable was if your horn played La Cucaracha. It doesn’t, does it?”
“No.” I drop back further and hide behind a truck. Mel tells me where he turned and once we’re on side streets, it’s much harder to hide. “Where the hell is he going?”
“Beats me if I know.” But her voice is tight like she does know and it isn’t good. We’re in the middle of suburbia, complete with lawns, houses, and families.
“What do you think he’s doing over here?”
Mel doesn’t answer this time. Instead, she says, “Pull over and let’s find out. He stopped a few houses down.”
I slip over to the side of the road and park next to a minivan. I can’t see much, so I lean over to Mel’s side of the car. Mel is tense and it takes me a second to see why. After Sean parks his bike, he walks over to a woman standing on the front lawn of a cute house. A work crew is putting in a white picket fence, beautiful flower-filled gardens, and painting the little home so it looks like new.
The woman matches Sean’s height with inky black hair that’s tied into a neat chignon at the base of her neck. The dress she’s wearing fits her perfectly. The longer I sit and stare, the more I wish I had no eyes. The two of them seem comfortable together, like there’s a relationship there. This can’t be what it looks like. I slip back into my seat and glance at Mel. “Well, what’s he doing?”
The smug smile that’s usually lining Mel’s lips isn’t there. A crease furrows her brow as she stares down the street at the couple and the house. “It could be anything, Avery.”
“Yeah, but what’s your gut impression?” Mel’s quiet for a moment and that’s all the answer I need. “Yeah, mine too.” I manage to say before swallowing the lump in my throat.
I lean back over to get another look, hoping that it’s not what it looks like. Because, to me, it looks like that is Sean’s house and this woman is close to him, like in a relationship kind of close. I see it in the way they stand shoulder to shoulder, their bodies turned toward one another. She’s not a business associate. His body language is too personal, too intimate for that.
I swallow hard, looking at the white picket fence. That’s what I wanted, but it appears that he already has that with someone else. I wonder if the whole family thing was an excuse to take off, to come back here to this woman. But then what the hell was Peter doing? Why’d he come say those things to me. Sean’s actually smiling as he leans in close to her ear, closing the space between them. His hand slips around her waist and they stay like that, head to head, talking. Maybe that’s not an intimate pose for some people, but it’s a step past sex for Sean Ferro. No one is close to him like that. My heart is crumbling in my chest. I wait for them to separate, but they don’t.
Mel and I watch them for way too long. The woman touches his hand, arms, and shoulders, pointing and smiling at the house and the yard. Sean doesn’t shirk her off like he does with other people. Instead his hand finds the wrist of her hand, and he helps her through the messy yard.
I can’t watch any more.
CHAPTER 9
Without a word, I start the car. The engine turns over on the first try. I sit there for a second. Running is for losers. I could get out of the car and stomp down the street like a jaded lover or I could leave and pretend that I never saw any of this—but I did. My stomach is so sour that it feels like I’m going to wretch.
Mel’s voice is soft, compassionate. “You want me to walk down there and take his balls off for you, honey?”
I laugh a little and shake my head. “I thought he loved me. How is he making the life I wanted with someone else? He said no to me and yes to her? I don’t understand.”