Blind Kiss(25)



He shook his head. “I’ll walk you home.”

“No, I’ll be fine. You’ll hear my ankles crack all the way down the street.”

“Fine. Bye.”

“Bye,” I said. When I got to the bottom of the steps, he jumped and landed beside me, grabbing my hand at the same time.

Pulling me along, he said in his typical fast-talking way, “I’m walking you home so shut up. You’re a sitting duck with those noisy ankles. There’s wild animals around here, like Tanya Fairmore in that blue house and Barrette Kiels next door to her.”

“We do have some weirdoes on this street.”

“That’s why I hate suburbia. We’re safer in the ’hood. There’s a nurse coming on Saturday. I doubt she’ll be hot.” He squeezed my hand. “But at least I’ll have a break. You want to go see The National with me at Red Rocks? I have an extra ticket.”

We were at the front door of my house. “You know I can’t do that. Is it just you going?”

He nodded.

“Ask Mike,” I said.

“Yeah, no, it’s fine. I’ll figure it out.”

“But, God, I would love to see them there,” I said.

“That’s why I bought them, Penny,” Gavin replied.

The door swung open, and the air grew thick with silence. We’d had many uncomfortable moments like this, with me and Gavin on one side of the threshold and my husband on the other. It was like getting caught kissing your boyfriend good night in high school. In this case, my husband was the strict dad who waits up all night. It wasn’t fair to think of him that way, but in moments like these, I couldn’t help it.

“Hi, Gavin. I’m so sorry to hear about your dad.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that, man.” They shook hands.

“So what did you buy for our Penny here?”

I answered for him. “Oh, Gavin has a nurse coming over on Saturday to cover for him, so he asked if I wanted to go see The National at Red Rocks with him.”

My husband frowned. “What’s The National?”

“A band,” I said.

“Oh,” he replied.

We were all standing in the doorway awkwardly. “Milo has that project thing anyway, so I told him I couldn’t go.”

“You can go,” he said. “I’ll work on the project with Milo. Why don’t you come in, Gavin? Have a beer.”

“I gotta get back to my dad.” He pulled the tickets from his back pocket and said, “You know what? You guys take them. Milo can come and hang out with me and Frank . . . and Nurse Betty.” He looked at me and winked.

My husband took the tickets and said, “Fantastic. Thank you, Gavin. We could use a date night.”

I wanted to cry but instead I hugged him and said, “Thank you. Hang in there, buddy.”

He whispered in my ear, “You’ll be thinking about me when you fuck him tonight.”

I pushed him off me. “Stupid,” I said.

“I’m joking, lighten up. You’re starting to act like Jenn.” Milo was calling to my husband from upstairs, so he waved to us dismissively and walked away.

“Don’t do that, Gavin. He already thinks our friendship is weird. Couldn’t you tell he was pissed? And I can’t believe you gave him the tickets. You love The National.”

“He’ll get over it, right? Tell him I whispered you had bad breath or something. He couldn’t hear me. Anyway, I gave him the tickets because you like The National more, and I wanted you to see the show. So there. Don’t say I never do anything nice for you.”

He bent over quickly and kissed my cheek. “See ya, P.”





10. Fourteen Years Ago


GAVIN

She was going to be the death of me.

I stood behind her as she unlocked the door to her parents’ house. “Looks like no one’s home,” she said. “I think my mom took Kiki to some pageant bullshit. My dad must be working late. Come on in.”

“This is your younger sister?” I pointed to a picture on the mantel as we walked through the living room.

“Yep, that’s her.”

“How old is she? Ten going on twenty-nine?”

“I know, it’s ridiculous. My mother dresses her like that and makes her compete in beauty pageants. Kiki seems to like it, but I don’t think she knows any better. Poor kid. She’s sweet, though. Come back to my room.”

Come back to my room? Shit. Why did I tell her we could just be friends? I tried to recall the promises I’d made and wondered how many were reasonable to break.

Penny’s house was a standard three-bedroom postwar suburban home. The décor wasn’t what I would call gaudy, but it was definitely froofy. Kind of like a ten-year-old had been allowed to order anything she wanted from the Sears catalog. Everything had a damn ruffle on it. It didn’t suit my idea of Penny.

When we got to the doorway of her room, I noticed how dramatically different it was from the rest of the house. Her bed was covered in a simple black comforter, and everything projected a modern aesthetic—sharp angles, cold, and minimalist. “Do you live in here with a vampire?”

“Ha-ha, very funny. You can sit there and wait for me.” I sat at her glass desk in an office-style chair as she tossed clothes out of her bag and into a hamper. “Some of this furniture is from my dad’s old office, so it’s pretty sterile.”

Renee Carlino's Books