Something Borrowed (6 page)

“Work. If you'll excuse me, I'm late already.” I kept walking.

“Hold on.” He grabbed my arm to stop me. “Look, I was just kidding around. I'm sorry I interrupted you and Sideshow Bob back there. Why don't you let me make it up to you by driving you to work? It's a pretty long walk from here, especially in this heat.”

I hesitated, then nodded. He was right about the heat—I was sweating already. “It's a deal,” I said, shaking my arm free of
his grip, which for some reason he'd failed to loosen even after I'd stopped. “But what about your tacos?”

“I'm not really that hungry.” He fished his car keys out of the pocket of his shorts. “Come on, I'm parked over there.”

Soon we were in the Prius heading for Wellington Gardens. I adjusted the AC output so it blew directly on my face. It felt kind of weird to be alone in the car with Jason. After six months I was getting used to him as a sort of accessory in Teresa's life, like her favorite cologne or her horses. Sitting next to him in the car like this was different—almost like he was a real person.

“So was that your new date for the wedding?” Jason asked.

I glanced over at him, but he wasn't looking at me. Traffic on Route 30 was snarled with shoppers darting in and out of businesses and parents picking up their toddlers at day-care, and he had his eyes on the road.

“Yeah,” I said. “Zoom's a cool guy. I'm hoping he can help keep me sane while I'm dealing with my insane sister.”

“Good luck with that.” Jason snorted. “Teresa told me about the appetizer thing the other day.”

“You mean the Great Canapé Disaster? Camille is
still
complaining about that one.” I grimaced. “But it's way too nice a day to waste talking about my crazy sister. Let's change the subject.” Figuring he probably wouldn't be interested in discussing how lucky I was to have met Zoom, I fished for a more mutually interesting topic. “Can you believe Teresa leaves for her trip in like a week and a half? You're probably going to miss her even more than I am, huh?”

He didn't answer. His eyes stayed focused straight ahead, even though the car was stopped at a red light. “Yeah,” he said at last as the light turned green. He sped through it and pulled over to the curb in front of Wellington Gardens. “Well, here we are. Don't be too shy to tip your cab driver.”

I reached for the door handle. “Here's a tip,” I said. “Those Bermuda shorts make you look like my Grandpa Hamilton.” I jumped out, then leaned back in before shutting the door. “Thanks for the ride, Gramps.”

Half an hour later I was ringing up a flat of zinnias and idly thinking that I was glad Tommy wasn't in that day. I hadn't seen him
since our little phone chat on Sunday. Even though I had Zoom now, I was still a little embarrassed thinking back on that goofy message I'd left for Tommy.

“Thanks for shopping at Wellington Gardens,” I told the lady with the zinnias. “Please come again.”

“Thanks,” the woman said, picking up her bag and walking away.

The next customer in line stepped forward. “Find everything you need?” I asked automatically, barely glancing at him. Then I did a double take. “Oh, wow! Andy! Is that really you?”

My favorite ex-boyfriend ever was standing there grinning back at me. Andy looked even more adorable than the last time I'd seen him, almost a year earlier. He'd let his sandy-brown hair grow out a little, and he looked fitter and more mature. He was holding a pair of women's gardening gloves, but he dropped them on the counter and came around to give me a hug.

“Hi, Ava,” he said into my ear in that warm, sexy voice of his. He smelled like coffee and aftershave. “How's it going?” He pulled back and gave me a once-over. “You look great.”

“You, too!” I stared at him, still a little in shock at his sudden appearance.

Andy was the only guy I'd ever thought of as The One That Got Away. He was in Teresa's grade, and I'd dated him for almost five months. I'd broken up with him toward the end of his senior summer, just a few weeks before he left for Brown, telling him it was because I wasn't into the longdistance thing. But in truth that was only part of the reason. The other part was that Andy had always been a little too comfortable with illicit substances for my taste, and I wasn't sure I wanted to deal with that any longer. But I'd always sort of wondered . . .

Luckily, there was nobody behind him in line. I leaned on the counter and grinned like an idiot at him. “So what are you doing here?” I asked him.

“Running errands for my mom.” He gestured at the gardening gloves.

I reached over and gave him a playful pinch on the arm. “Not that. I mean here in a more general sense. Good old PA. Teresa told me you had a job up in Providence for the summer.”

“I do. But I took a couple of weeks off to visit the old stomping grounds.” He smiled.
“Plus I told Mariella Farley I'd go to some big ol' wedding with her next weekend.”

I should have known. “You and everybody else in the tri-state area,” I said, rolling my eyes. Andy had grown up next door to Camille's high-school friend Mariella. I wasn't surprised that she'd asked him, even though he was a few years younger. I'd seen him in formalwear, and he was way beyond presentable. “But never mind that. Have you seen Sam and Davey and the rest of those guys since you've been home?”

“Not much.” He cleared his throat. “I—um—don't really have too much in common with those guys anymore.” At my look of surprise he smiled sheepishly. “High school was one thing, but getting wasted all the time didn't mesh too well with Ivy League schoolwork. I had a choice to make, and I decided to give that stuff up.”

“Wow, that's great. I'm proud of you, Andy. Really.” Just then I spotted my boss coming toward me from the seed aisle, and a pair of old ladies approaching from the other direction with an armful of flower pots. “Oops, I almost forgot I'm supposed to be working. . . .” I grabbed the gardening gloves and rang them up.

“Thanks,” Andy said, his hand brushing mine as he took the bag. “I'll see you next weekend, Ava. Maybe we can catch up more then.”

“For sure.” I smiled at him. “Save a dance for me, okay? For old times' sake.”

As he left, I blew out a long sigh. For a moment I almost wished that Zoom and I weren't getting along so great. It was tempting to imagine rekindling things with Andy now that he'd cleaned up his act, and a nice romantic setting like a wedding reception would certainly be the perfect place to do it. . . .

Too many guys, too little time. That was what Teresa always joked should be my motto in life, and maybe she was right.

“Welcome to Wellington Gardens,” I said to the old ladies automatically, visions of cute guys still dancing through my head. “Find everything you need?”

The next day I worked a double shift to make up for taking off for the wedding most of the following week. During my lunch break I hid out in the back of the perennials section and called Zoom.

“Dude, you just caught me,” he said, sounding just as laid-back and awesome over the phone as he did in person. “I'm about to head out to the rally.”

“Do you still want to get together later?” I asked.

“Totally! Been thinking about it since yesterday.”

I shivered, liking the idea of him thinking about me so much. “Me too,” I said. “So where are we going?”

“Do you know where Thermopylae is?”

“You mean the music club in Old City?” I absently plucked a dead leaf off a nearby scabiosa. “Yeah, I know it.”

“I heard this awesome new local band is playing there tonight. Thought we could meet up there around nine. They've got totally tasty Greek food too, in case we get the munchies.”

“Sounds great. I'll see you then. Oh! And good luck at your bike thing.” As soon as I hung up with Zoom, I dialed Teresa to see if she—and chauffeur Jason—wanted to tag along and make it a double date. She was game, so we were all set.

I was still doing a mental happy dance over how well things were working out as I returned to work a few minutes later. Even seeing Tommy coming toward me didn't dampen my spirits. The way everything was going in my life at the moment, that awkward little phone message seemed nothing more but a distant, oddly charming minor memory.

“Hey, Ava,” he said, swiping a hand through his dark hair. “Mr. Baum wanted me to tell you to go water the herbs.”

“Okay, I'm on it. Thanks, Tommy.” I
smiled at him and hurried off, humming under my breath and trying to figure out what I should wear for my date with Zoom that night.

Soon I was walking slowly between the wide flats of herb plants, sprinkling them carefully with the curly hose I'd pulled down from the irrigation system overhead. The plants released their fragrances in moist green waves every time I brushed them with my hand or the hose. I breathed in deeply, enjoying the mingling scents of basil, thyme, rosemary, oregano, lavender, and more.

For the first time in a while—or possibly
ever
—I was actively looking forward to my sister's wedding. Going with Lance hadn't seemed anywhere near as exciting and romantic as going with Zoom did now. I was starting to think that Lance had done me a big favor by dumping me. Our relationship had just about run its course anyway, and this way I could kick off a fun new relationship with Zoom at the wedding.

Before, all I'd been able to think about the wedding was the bad stuff: how much more hysterical Camille would be by then, how many things were likely to go wrong
and send her over the edge, how idiotic I was going to look in the Pink Nightmare. But now here I was, humming cheerfully as I thought about all the fun things that day would bring. Me introducing Zoom to everyone I knew. Zoom watching me walk down the aisle with the other bridesmaids looking regal and gorgeous. (Okay, so I sort of edited the Pink Horror out of that part of the daydream.) Me and Zoom dancing at the reception, maybe sneaking out to the rose arbor behind the hall to steal a kiss or two . . .

I clicked off the hose and closed my eyes, smiling as I imagined that last tasty little scene. The wedding and reception were taking place at a luxurious old Main Line estate that had been converted into a site for such events. Its lush grounds would be in full bloom this time of year, including a famed rose garden that would serve as the backdrop for some of the formal photos. I could just imagine strolling through that darkened rose garden, hand in hand with Zoom, breathing in the heady floral scent just as I was breathing in the herbs surrounding me right now.

Okay, so Zoom wasn't exactly the Latinlover
type or anything. But a wedding could bring out the romantic in anybody, right? Maybe as we wandered beneath an arbor he would reach up with one of those long, lean arms of his and pick me a perfect white rose off one of the vines. I opened my eyes just long enough to pluck a sprig of lavender to stand in for the imaginary rose. Closing my eyes again, I held it to my nose and breathed in the romantic scent. Then I tucked it into my hair and wrapped both arms around myself, swaying from side to side and humming a romantic tune. . . .

Just behind me I heard someone clear his throat. My face went hot as I realized I'd completely forgotten where I was. Could I possibly be more of a dork? I quickly yanked the lavender out of my hair, praying it was only my boss, Mr. Baum, coming by to check on me. He'd known me a long time and was likely to forgive and forget a little wacky behavior, especially considering the circumstances. Tommy, on the other hand, might take this as the final sign I was a complete loon.

“Uh, hi, Ava.”

I froze in horror. That wasn't Mr. Baum's voice. It wasn't Tommy's, either.

Deciding I couldn't just stand there with my back to him forever, I forced myself to turn around. “Lance,” I said, taking in his Pep Boys T-shirt and grease-stained hands. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.”

I rolled my eyes. Lance had a penchant for stating the obvious. Funny how that hadn't really bothered me before. In fact I'd once found it charming.

“Well, here I am.” If he could do it, I could too. “So what do you want?”

He rubbed his hands together nervously, which made his biceps flex in a rather distracting way. I did my best to ignore that and stay focused on his face, which looked troubled.

“I feel bad about the other day,” he said. “You know—how we left things between us. I, uh, thought maybe we should talk about it.”

Wow. Lance had never been much of a conversationalist unless said conversation involved stuff like gear shifts and pistons. He
really
had to be feeling guilty about his rotten breakup technique to actually seek me out for a relationship chat. Or should that be an
ex
-relationship chat?

In any case, it wasn't my problem anymore. Why waste the time and energy?

“Sorry,” I said briskly, grabbing the hose and coiling it back into its place. “I have work to do. Now if you'll excuse me . . .”

He opened his mouth as if to protest, but I didn't give him the chance. I hurried off toward the checkout area without a backward glance.

“Give me a break, Mother! How am I supposed to finalize the seating chart when we don't even have all the RSVPs yet?” Camille exclaimed. She whirled in her chair. “Daddy, will you talk some sense into her, please?”

My father had a distant little smile pasted on his ruddy face—an expression that hadn't changed since we'd all finished dinner an hour or so earlier. I suspected that while his body was still there in the kitchen in the midst of yet another bridal meltdown, his mind was somewhere out around the sixth green at the club.

I tugged at the hem of my short black skirt and sneaked a peek at my watch. At the moment the sixth green was sounding pretty good to me, too. And I don't even like golf.