The Anti-Boyfriend(30)
Kneeling down next to Sunny, I said, “We’re gonna find something you like.”
Song after song, nothing seemed to stop the crying—until I got to the seventies station. “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees was on.
Little Sunny’s eyes went wide as she listened. I started bopping my head to the music and watched as she fell silent and remained content.
“Did we find a winner?” Sharon asked.
When the song ended, a Donna Summer tune started, and Sunny wasn’t having it. She started wailing. So I tried a little experiment. I pulled up the same Bee Gees’ song on YouTube, and sure enough, Sunny stopped crying again. When it ended, the next video was another song by a different artist. Again, she started crying.
The Bee Gees definitely had a unique sound. I wondered if it was the song she liked or the pitch of their voices. So I pulled up “How Deep is Your Love,” a slower ballad. Sunny again quieted and listened intently.
No shit? This is gold.
At that point, I downloaded the whole freaking Best of the Bee Gees album onto my phone.
Then Carys walked in. I couldn’t imagine what she was thinking.
She looked concerned. “What’s going on? Why are you here, Deacon?”
“Deacon is a genius,” Sharon said. “He figured out that Sunny likes the Bee Gees. Listening to their music keeps her from crying. He heard her from next door and came over to help.”
“Well, she stopped crying when I picked her up, but I didn’t want to encourage that habit,” I explained. “Decided to try something new. But the only thing she likes is the Bee Gees, apparently.”
Carys’s mouth hung open. “The Bee Gees? They’re ancient! What made you think of that?”
“It was luck,” I said. “They just happened to come on. That’s when she calmed down.”
“That’s so bizarre. But…thank you for figuring it out.”
“I downloaded their whole best-of album. I’ll get it for you, too, so you have it.”
After Sharon left, we kept the album playing. Carys walked over to the swing to kiss Sunny’s head. She then kicked off her heels and plopped down on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table. I had to the urge to grab her feet and massage them, but I refrained.
“What a day.” She sighed.
“As in bad?”
“That guy you saw me with is a huge potential investor. Cynthia sprung him on me because she had a family emergency. It’s been nerve-wracking trying to make a good impression.”
“It seemed to me he felt you made an excellent impression.”
“Yeah, so much so that he asked me out.”
I swallowed. “Really?”
She nodded. “But that interest got squelched as soon as I mentioned I had a baby.”
Despite my jealousy, I was actually offended for her, which seemed hypocritical coming from me—a guy who didn’t want kids.
My fist tightened. “He said something negative?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. But his tone changed. It went from flirtatious to a bit more guarded.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t have gone out with him anyway.”
I shouldn’t have been thrilled to hear that. I should’ve wanted her to find someone who could make her happy. Instead, my selfish ass was relieved that she wanted nothing to do with that rich prick.
“I need a drink the size of my head tonight,” she said. “And I don’t even drink much.”
“After Sunny goes to bed, you should have it. You deserve it.”
She turned to me. “Hey…thank you for coming over to help today. That’s not your responsibility.”
“Well, now that I know Sunny, it’s hard to ignore her when she’s crying. I’m just glad we discovered something that can pacify her.”
Our eyes locked for a few moments before she asked, “Big plans tonight?”
I hesitated to answer. I did have plans—with a woman I’d met online. Couldn’t say I was too excited about it, though.
“Uh…just dinner.”
Her brow lifted. “Anyone interesting?”
“Not sure yet. The verdict is still out. Haven’t met her in person.”
“Gotcha.” She played with some lint on the couch. “Well…if it doesn’t work out…you know…if she doesn’t make the cut to come back and…play Parcheesi, maybe you can stop by and have a late drink with me.”
Play Parcheesi. I remembered I’d once used that as a metaphor for sex.
“Yeah. Maybe,” I answered, sweating a little and feeling oddly anxious. This felt different. Was it just in my head?
Carys had no idea how badly I wished I could play Parcheesi with her tonight.
*
Her name was Allie, she worked for the city’s water board, and she liked karaoke bars. That was about all that registered. Everything else was in one ear and out the other.
I would’ve loved to believe I just wasn’t that into her, but I knew it was more than that; I couldn’t stop thinking about Carys—her invite and whether I was going to take her up on it. Aside from that one dinner, our get-togethers were always during the day—innocent. Her inviting me over for a drink in the late evening felt different.