Repeat(32)

So no kissing accidental or otherwise is best.

Frances comes in to visit. Interestingly enough, this occasion has less of a supervisory feel and more of a sisterly affection vibe for once. It’s nice. We have lunch at an amazing oyster place on the waterfront. Iris even closes up the shop to come with us. Apparently she does this occasionally when cabin fever starts to settle in and she needs to get away from the books for an hour or two. With a few drinks in her, my boss tells the most amazing stories about her various ex-husbands. Despite having one die, one cheat, and one come out of the closet, she remains a hopeful romantic at heart. Currently, she’s seeing the owner of a gelato shop a block over. He’s a dapper Sicilian gent who’s apparently killer in the sack—a detail I didn’t need to know.

A little after six, Ed arrives to take me home. My insides sort of swoop at the sight of him. The want to not inconvenience him wars constantly within me against the need to be around him. If he knew, he’d be even quieter, more guarded. And he’s being pretty damn silent as it is. I can barely get a word out of him. We pick up some more takeout, tacos this time. Turns out, I fucking love tacos. Then back at the condo, I watch another movie while he works. A pity. Because despite the whole clear division of areas on the couch and required physical space between us the night before, I enjoyed experiencing the movie with him. But tonight, not even Gordy’s interested in hanging out with me. Maybe I smell funny or something.

“Oh my God.” I sigh when it’s over, relaxing back on the couch with my stress cushion still clutched tight against my chest. “I loved that movie so much.”

“Yeah?” Ed sits at the table, drawing on a computer tablet. “It used to be another one of your favorites.”

“It was a really great love story.”

“Clem, you do know the movie’s called Terminator? It’s about a killer robot.”

“I don’t care. I mean, it’s not a romance because strictly speaking it doesn’t have a happy ending, but the love story in it is superb.”

“Those are the rules, huh?”

“Those are the rules.”

“The second one’s pretty good too. I kind of envy you being able to watch them all over again for the first time.”

I smile grimly. “Gotta be some perks to my situation.”

“After the second one, though, the quality drops off. At least, that was what you always insisted. I asked you once what you had against movies made this century.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “You said these ones from the eighties were all your mother’s favorites. That you used to watch them with her.”

“Oh.”

“Mind if I ask, have you been to see her grave?”

“No, I don’t mind. But no,” I say. “I suggested it to Frances once, but she shot the idea down pretty quickly. I think it’s weird for her, still mourning Mom when I don’t even remember.”

He nods.

“Did you want to watch it with me? The second movie, I mean . . . if you feel like it.” Hope is such a bitch. “No big deal if you don’t. I was just thinking, it’s only nine and—”

His jaw firms. “Pretty busy right now.”

“Right. Sure.”

Silence.

“What are you working on?”

“Just a piece for a client.”

I wait, but no further information is forthcoming.

Gordon sleeps on in the corner on his bed. The very picture of doggy contentment. When someone hammers on the door, however, he bounds instantly to his feet. His ears start twitching, nose sniffing.

Ed frowns.

“Were you expecting someone?” I ask.

“No.”

When he opens the door, all hell breaks loose. Or at least it sounds that way. A deep voice shouts out greetings followed by much manly hugging and slapping of backs. Gordy shuffles elatedly around the newcomer’s feet, tail wagging like mad. I just wait on the couch.

“’the hell are you doing here?” asks Ed, not unhappily.

The new guy is about as tall as Ed with dark hair. Lots of ink. He has a motorbike helmet in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other. “Heard you and Clem broke up. Figured you’d need cheering up.”

“That happened a while back.”

A shrug from the stranger. “Well, I’ve been busy on the West Coast. Hadn’t talked to Mom for a while so I only just heard. How are you doing? Never did like that girl, too fucking high-strung.”

“Man—”

“I’m telling you, you can do much better.”

“Really? ’Cause I seem to remember you trying to come on to her a time or two.”

“I’d had a few drinks. I was just being friendly!”

Ed grabs the back of his neck. “Right.”

“I mean, at least you didn’t marry her and then have everything go to hell. Imagine if you two had kids. It would have been a damn mess,” he says. “Better to get out now when things aren’t so complicated. Or is she being a bitch about this place?”

Ed just turns and looks at me. His face is drawn, expression distinctly pained.

Then the man also turns, taking me in with surprise. “Ah, shit. Hey, Clem. Good to see you.”

I lift a hand in greeting. “Hi.”