Do Overs (5 page)

Ever.

I couldn’t decide if I was angry or disappointed. Heaviness pulled at my brain and shoulders as if it wanted to suck me right down into the earth and bury me. I dropped the brush and pressed my hand to my chest.

Things were going to change.

Starting tonight
.

I couldn’t go down that path again. Not the same way I had before, anyway. I’d find out if Bob could meet the challenge. I bit my bottom lip and sucked in my breath. I’d find out soon enough.

I wasn’t sure how much of my future I could recover. Now that I’d been fired, what would that to do to my chances at the insurance company? One of the things they’d admired about me was my dedication and solid work history. I chuckled without humor.
Flush that right down the toilet
.

Truth be told, I probably screwed myself up so badly I’d have nothing to look forward to in my future other than slinging hash in a greasy spoon.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.” I grumbled at my reflection.

Before I could make my break and get to
The Common House, Misty crashed through my door. Her beautiful face glowed angry red and I swear she snarled. She scared me a little at first, but annoyance overcame fear. I really didn’t have time to deal with her.

“What the hell do you think you’re up to?”

I gave her a cold look. At least one thing I developed over the years was the ability to stay cool under pressure. Back when I was twenty-three, I would’ve been stumbling over my reply, looking for the easiest exit.

“Getting ready for a date. What the hell do
you
think you’re up to?”

“I talked to Colin this afternoon. H
e told me you modeled for him.”

I shrugged. “He asked.”

“That was
my
job.”

“
You
were a little busy. Colin called this morning for you. I told you he was on the phone, but
you
told me twice you were busy. Busy with the jock du jour. So Colin, obviously not happy you
stood him up, asked me to fill in.”

Misty stood about three inches shorter than me. One of those perfect little numbers, petite and feminine with lots of pale blonde hair curling all over the place. Next to her I felt as sexy as a giant troll, tall, and often awkward. But her face mottled with fury leveled the playing field. I liked being calm amidst this little temper tantrum of hers.

“I bet you were all too eager.” Her perfect little cupid lips drew up in a sneer.

I turned to her. I might have slunk away from her in the past, but not this time. I took a step toward her, my confidence at its peak. I straightened, lifted my chin, and studied her. A flicker of uncertainty twitched in her lips and for a split second her eyes dipped away from my stare. But she stood her ground.

“I helped him out. He had a deadline to meet. Maybe that doesn’t matter to you, but it matters to him.”

“One day wouldn’t have killed him.”

There
, her voice didn’t hold the same nasty self-assurance generally present when she began
her rant. I cracked her shell a little and I liked it. I took another step forward. She took one back.

“How do you know? Or don’t you care? You’re selfish, Misty. You’ve got a great guy who’s
crazy for you and you don’t give a damn.”

That flash of emotion when Colin took my hand filled my brain again. I hadn’t thought about it for hours. What was I doing? Why encourage Misty to be a better girlfriend?

“Don’t tell me what I feel.” Her mouth tightened into a thin line and her fists clenched at her sides.

I chuckled. “Why not? I’m enjoying it. One of these days your cheating is going to bite you in the butt.”

“You didn’t tell Colin about Tom, did you?” A little fear slid into her voice. I swear she actually squirmed.

“Is that his name? They all look the same. No, I didn’t tell Colin, but maybe he needs to know. Let me give you a little piece of advice. Stop screwing around with all these guys or you’re going to find yourself in a position you’re really going to regret. Colin doesn’t deserve to be treated badly.”

Misty tilted her chin up and narrowed her eyes. “And I have a piece of advice. Mind your own business. And stay away from Colin.”

Without another word, she turned and marched out of my room.

As soon as she slammed her bedroom door, my shoulders slumped as the tension slid away from my muscles.

Thank God that’s over.

Well, I tried. I gave her a warning of what might come. What Misty did with my advice was her business. I had no idea if I had changed her future.

I finished my hair, slid on a pair of comfortable black pumps, and grabbed my purse. I needed to be outside in the fresh air to clear my head before meeting Bob.

Pressure built inside me again. Could I really give up the life I’d established with him? Throw
us
away in favor of some passion I briefly encountered with Colin? God, I couldn’t even be sure
what I’d felt for Colin was real.

Of course these thoughts weren’t real. A flash in my brain, that’s all. Wishful thinking.

Best forgotten.

A figment of my overstressed imagination. Better forgotten.

Realistic, passionate and mind blowing. How could I ever forget?

I squeezed my eyes shut, and then opened them. My head throbbed. Too much thinking. Too much worrying.

I needed to rid myself of all this tension somehow, so, I skipped the cab and walked to meet Bob. More fresh air, more time to think about what in hell’s name I was doing and going to do. Part of me wanted to go home. Back to the comfort of my penthouse, my comfortable bed, all the luxuries Bob and I worked hard for. I wanted to get lost in the crowds of New York City, see a show, and go to a museum. Do
something
normal and ordinary. “Ordinary,” I muttered.

Yep, that pretty much summed up my life in New York City. Despite the luxuries, I lived an ordinary, vanilla life.

But hadn't I wanted more than ordinary? I craved the extraordinary. So what the heck went wrong? My skull tightened around the throb in my forehead. A headache was better than crying, though tears stung my eyes, begging for release.

I arrived early to
The Common House, so I wandered back to Tommy’s Park. Twice in one day, I found a seat and gazed at the building where I used to live. Bob lived there too. I hadn’t known it until after he moved.

He used to play one of those little electric keyboards and, before I knew him, I’d listen to his music. Sometimes street preachers stood at the corner of Exchange and Middle Street, yelling about fire and brimstone. Bob would play his keyboard through his open window, ominous music that went along with the words coming from the preacher in the park. His sense of humor made me laugh.

Even now I smiled at that memory, appreciating the wit of the unknown musician and the annoyance on the face of the preacher who tried to be earnest and powerful. When I met Bob and found out he’d been the mystery pianist I’d immediately been intrigued. I quickly became interested in the pleasant looking guy with glasses, nice smile, and sharp mind.

My smile died.

What had happened to the fun streak? It didn’t stick around very long. Maybe the whole music thing had been a fluke. When I met him there wasn’t much of that guy left. At least I didn’t have to shoulder the blame for Bob’s inner fun side disappearance. I could only take responsibility for the disappearance of me.

Bob showed up at exactly the correct time. I didn’t move from my spot, but watched him. Tall and attractive in a quiet kind of way. Not the type who stopped women in their tracks, but nothing to complain about. His looks pretty much stuck around over the years, well, the years to
come. He added more belly and lost a lot of hair, but he remained pleasant looking.
Would still
be attractive
.

I waited for some kind of reaction from my heart, even a little rush of adrenaline, knowing one day he’d be my husband. I sucked in my breath and thought of our first night together, which hadn’t happened yet.

Curiously, my heart didn’t go pitty-pat. The butterflies really never happened, which I regretted, but Bob was a good guy. Sweet and steady.

I made my way to the restaurant and met Bob exactly at the appointed time. But as he held the door open for me I balked. If today was all about new paths and doing things differently, then I’d do this right. And drag Bob with me.

“Let’s go somewhere else.”

Bob looked down at me, brows furrowed. We loved
The Common House. It had become
our
spot. I had nothing against it. In fact The Common House was probably my favorite restaurant in Portland, but I didn’t want to be here tonight. Tonight, with my
rebirth,
I wanted to change things. Ease up on the seriousness.

I wanted us to eat pizza and wander around the Old Port, hand in hand. Maybe stop in at one of the bars later on when things were hopping. So many options and I wanted to grab as many as I could. I looked up at Bob. This could be our only shot. The excitement thrummed through me. Surely Bob would see that.

I didn’t want to turn middle aged before we were middle aged.

“Lila, really.” He gave me a confused frown then glanced back
at the doors to the restaurant.

I grabbed his hand, needing to pull him away from the rut we’d already fallen into. “No, not
tonight. Tonight we’re going to bar hop. Maybe find a place to dance.”

“Dance?” Bob’s voice sounded a bit weak.

I swear he turned a little green. Bob didn’t like to dance. Maybe I could change that. “Yeah. And eat raw oysters. Let’s live a little.”

“Lila, you just lost your job. This is hardly the time to celebrate.”

I pulled him toward the sidewalk. “Who’s talking about celebrating? I’m talking about living like twenty-something’s. You’re too young to be so stuffy.”

Grudgingly he followed me down Exchange Street. I found us the pizza at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant tucked in between a fifties retro bar and a photography shop. I ordered us two gigantic
slices of pepperoni pizza, accompanied by two large mugs of the cheapest beer on tap. We sat at a little table in the corner and I enjoyed the best meal ever. Bob still looked green.

He barely smiled, had barely spoken three words since we sat. I caught him glancing out the window on several occasions, and even more often, checking his watch. I wanted to snatch that damned watch right off his wrist and throw it out with our paper plates. But I let him be. He loved that watch and I hoped he would be distracted enough later to forget about the time.

After pizza, I dragged him by the hand back up one side of the street and down the other, window-shopping. Pausing at a rack of bright silk scarves, I wrapped one around my neck. “What do you think?”

Bob gave it a cursory glance and shrugged. “Not for an office, but I guess for weekends it would be okay.”

I pressed my lips together in mild irritation and hung the scarf back up. Fine. He didn’t like splashy accessories.

As we walked along, I tried to get him to talk, joke a little.

I elbowed him lightly in the side. “Have you ever seen such a big mohawk? What do you think she has in common with the guy she’s with?” I pointed at a girl in raggy, army green pants and tight black tank top. Her red and yellow mohawk must have spiked a good seven inches into the air. Next to her walked a man, her polar opposite wearing a business suit and sunglasses.

Bob mumbled a response.

Music blared from some stores, a mix of good old eighties pop music, garage band punk, and reggae.

I bubbled. Bob sulked. I was truly sorry he hated every moment because I loved every second of our evening. So if I couldn’t change his bad mood, I’d ignore it.

“I love the Old Port.” I inhaled deeply. Ocean air mingled with the spicy scents of the Thai restaurant we walked past. I tucked my arm through his. “Promise me if we ever leave we’ll come back at least once a year.”

“What in God’s name are you talking about?” Bob’s voice mixed bafflement with a heavy dose of annoyance.

I stopped and turned to him, slipping my arms around his waist. I needed to feel
something
from him. Even an inkling of what
could be
for us.

“I’m talking about us not forgetting this place. No matter where we go from here. Who knows, maybe someday we’ll be living in Manhattan and be fabulously successful and wealthy. If we
are, I don’t want to forget the Old Port.” I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against his chest.

This time the flash wasn’t much of a flash, more like looking through water. There we were in our penthouse. The same penthouse I lived in just yesterday. And that was it. Contentment for where we lived. Satisfaction for my success at the office. Pride in our accomplishments.

All wrapped in discontentment, with loneliness as the bow. The card read,
my life could have
been so much more
.