Toronto Collection Volume 3 (Toronto Series #10-13) Read online

  He smiled, not meeting my eyes, then turned away to fumble on the floor for his boxers. "Definitely. I'll ace it for sure." He pulled on the shorts under the cover of the sheets, leaving the condom on, then slipped out of bed. "Look, I... um..."

  I held up a hand and shook my head. "Don't." I couldn't bear to hear him explain how he couldn't keep seeing me because he had a girlfriend, or was busy at work, or was about to join the Marines, or whatever excuse he was scrambling to put together. "It's fine. Let's just leave it as it is. Okay?"

  "Okay," he said, clearly relieved. He dressed quickly, while I lay studying my fingernails, then said, "Well. Bye."

  "Bye," I echoed, then he left the room. The click of the door seemed awfully loud. Awfully final.

  I stayed in the bed we'd shared for a few more minutes, keeping my mind blank, then I couldn't stand being there another second. I thought about taking a shower but I just wanted to be out of the room and the hotel and the whole town of Mississauga.

  I dressed in my jeans and sweater then packed my other clothes away along with the box of condoms I'd brought. I moved faster and faster as I packed, until I was rushing around the room like Paddington desperate for a walk. Once I had everything back in my bag, I left my room key card on the dresser so the hotel could check me out in the morning with the credit card number they had on file and stepped out into the hallway.

  Then I escaped the hotel, going out without a glance at the bar in case he'd returned there, and drove home where I curled up on the couch with Paddington and wondered why I'd never cared about being a one-night stand before and why I cared so much now.

  After a while the dog fell asleep and I pushed myself to my feet. I'd go add the guy's name to my list and then--

  I stood frozen in the middle of the living room as fresh waves of self-disgust rolled over me.

  I couldn't.

  He hadn't told me his name and I hadn't asked. I remembered, as he stripped off my clothes, briefly thinking it was sexier that way since we were total strangers but now I knew I'd been wrong. It wasn't sexier, it was awful.

  For the first time in my life, I'd let a guy into my body and I didn't even know his name.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I'd gone to bed, after reluctantly adding "Name Unknown" to the list, but had barely slept so I felt terrible on Friday. Getting to work helped, though. I didn't want to think about why I'd been so wrong about what I needed, and luckily Percy had come in with a gorgeous new design for my web site and I could bury myself in revising my content to suit it.

  I worked through lunch, nibbling at a sandwich Percy kindly brought me, so I wouldn't sit and think, then after an hour or so reluctantly headed out for my scheduled coffee with Sasha.

  She'd seemed weird all day, tense and jittery, and since I felt much the same way I truly didn't want to go, but when I hinted that I had too much work to do her "Oh, but I was really hoping we could talk" was so desperate I had to give in even though I couldn't bear the idea of taking on someone else's problem. If she even had one. I couldn't imagine her life was anything but perfect.

  We walked to Starbucks in silence, and for the first time that day I let my mind peek cautiously around the barrier I'd put up to isolate last night from the rest of my thoughts. The point had been to have sex. I'd had it. It had been good. My body still felt relaxed and loose from it. So why did I feel so bad emotionally, so different from how I'd expected?

  If Larissa had been around, or even answering my emails, I could have discussed it with her. She wouldn't have judged me for what I'd done. Especially since it had worked: when Felix had flirted with me that morning by toying with my teal scarf where it lay across my neck I hadn't been immediately turned on like before, so the sex had done its job. But the emotional ickiness confused me and I didn't understand it.

  I couldn't talk to Sasha about it, though. So I'd have to keep it to myself.

  When Sasha and I sat down she said, "How was last night?"

  I blinked. "Fine." She didn't know, did she? "Why would you ask me that?"

  She looked confused. "Weren't you getting a massage?"

  I hadn't said anything about my supposed plan at work since Felix would have offered to take care of it for me and I might have let him. "Yeah. How'd you know that?"

  Her cheeks turned red. "Oh, God. I feel like an idiot."

  "You're reading my site?"

  She nodded.

  I had to smile. "Well, I've read yours off and on since this stupid competition started so I guess we're even."

  She cooled her hands against her cup of iced coffee then pressed them to her cheeks. "Yeah, but... yeah. I guess so." Her hands dropped to the table as she said, "You think the project is stupid?"

  I shook my head. "No, I think the concept is great, even if I'm butchering it at every turn. It's amazingly hard to be good to yourself. I had no idea. That part's neat, but setting the three of us against each other makes no sense to me. We have such different audiences, I can't see how they'll ever choose a winner."

  She nodded, then started to speak. Stopped, then started again. Then stopped again.

  Even with huge parts of my mind distracted, I knew something was going on. Part of me didn't want to get involved but I couldn't help being curious. "Sasha? What's up?"

  She took a deep breath. "I... the project was my idea."

  I tried to remember the first day Felix had announced it. "Really? I didn't know that."

  She nodded. "I told Felix about it at lunch on Valentine's Day. Damian was having a party at school and I'd forgotten to make him cupcakes the night before so I was up early making them, and my husband said I should have just bought them and I said that wasn't good enough and he said I should worry about being good to myself and not to Damian's classmates who wouldn't even notice whether the cupcakes were homemade. And I just thought, 'Am I good to myself?' I spent the morning paying attention to it and seeing how often I wasn't good, then I told Felix about it and said I wanted to do it on my site as an official project. He said he'd think about it, then on Monday he announced that we were all doing it. I guess I'd have been okay with that, but I wish he'd asked."

  "Yeah, or at least said it was your idea. He made it sound like his."

  "Yeah." She sighed. "I'm really finding it hard, though. Are you?"

  I nodded, and she looked relieved, but I didn't feel the same comfort that she did. She had everything I could possibly want, marriage and kids and no need to pick up guys at bars, and I couldn't imagine that her struggles were anywhere near as aggravating as mine.

  "Watching every little decision just makes me feel like I can't make any decisions at all," she said. "And it shows me all the places my life isn't right."

  I groaned inside. I'd had enough talks with married friends to know where this was going. Sasha was about two seconds away from a 'my husband sucks, my kids are brats, nobody appreciates me' speech that I so didn't want to hear.

  She took a quick sip of her drink then shook her head. I braced myself for what was to come, but she surprised me by saying, "They're all my fault too."

  I blinked, sure I wasn't understanding her. "What are?"

  She rubbed the thumb of one hand against the back of the other. "The places that aren't right."

  I had understood her. While I tried to get my head around that, her gasping laugh, nearly a sob, startled me again. "My life is perfect. My husband is amazing to me, my kids are terrific, I love my job... and I'm never happy. And I feel worse because I'm not happy and I should be and I don't know what's wrong with me."

  She swallowed hard and looked down at the table, and I sat in silence with no idea what to say. I'd always assumed she was happy, with her perfect blonde highlights and her perfect family and her perfectly arranged life. How could she not be?

  She swiped beneath an eye with one finger then looked up. "Sorry. I shouldn't be dumping on you."

  But I found myself wanting her to. She so clearly needed to talk, and I needed to listen
so I wouldn't think about my own stuff. "It's okay. But I don't understand. If everything's so good why aren't you happy? I'm messed up, but I didn't think you were too."

  She managed a smile. "You're not messed up."

  I rolled my eyes. She didn't know the half of it.

  "Oh, please. You aren't. You're living your own life. You do what you want, when you want. I only do what I'm told."

  "But I thought you said your husband was--"

  "Not by Daniel." She shook her head. "He's not like that at all. No, it's my friends. Four of them, the mothers of Damian and Daisy's best friends. The other mommies." Her tone made them sound like monsters even before she added, "They take their kids absolutely everywhere because they insist that's what good mothers do. I suggested once that I wanted to go out with just Daniel and they were horrified. They all hate their husbands, though, or at least treat them like another kid instead of a man, so I guess they don't want to spend time alone with them. I do with Daniel, though, but if they heard about it..." She shook her head again. "I'd never hear the end of it."

  I sipped my chai tea, thinking, then said, "So. The other mommies say you shouldn't go on a date with your husband."

  She nodded.

  "But you want to. And Daniel does too, I assume?"

  Another nod. "He used to ask all the time but I never went because they'd hear about it and make me feel like a bad mother. He doesn't ask any more." She shook her head. "My husband doesn't suggest we go out any more, and neither do I. We just stay home with the kids. Not much of a marriage, right?"

  "I'm no marriage expert. Obviously. But he'd probably go if you suggested it. You think?"

  She frowned, thinking. "Yeah, I do. He used to say we should go for dinner then..." Her cheeks went red again. "Um. Can I say 'fool around in the minivan' to a co-worker?"

  I laughed, startled by her openness. "Absolutely you can. Sounds like fun. Parked someplace, hoping nobody comes up to peer in the windows..."

  She giggled and blushed further. "We got caught by a cop when we were dating. Both the best and the most embarrassing moment of my life."

  I grinned, remembering a similar moment with Damien, then returned to the topic at hand. "So you'd like it and he'd like it. Then to hell with the mommies. Right?"

  She stared, then giggled. "You're so right. To hell with them! I'd love to say, 'To hell with you," right to their smug faces. They're the type... you know how some women become nothing but mothers when they have kids, never taking even a second for themselves or their marriages? They'd be the poster women for that."

  I'd thought Sasha herself could grace such a poster but clearly there was more to my coworker than I'd realized. I gave a shudder that wasn't entirely mock. "Trust me, I know the type. They're also the ones who stop being friends with you as soon as they have kids and you don't."

  She nodded. "So true." She took a deep breath, and I knew what she was going to say before the words came out. "Do you... are you wanting to have kids?" She hurried on before I could answer. "Don't answer that if you'd rather not. My cousin's not having kids and she hates when people bug her about it."

  I sighed. "I think I do want them, but even if I magically got married tomorrow I don't know if it would happen."

  Then I told her about my early menopause. It felt weird at first discussing something like that with a coworker, but she was so supportive and attentive that the awkwardness quickly faded away. It had been ages since I'd talked about anything so personal with someone other than Larissa. She and I had the same life style in nearly every way, though, so we never got much of a different viewpoint. Sasha and I were on totally different paths, and it felt strange, but good too, to talk about my fears of never having kids with someone who'd wanted them enough to have two.

  As we talked about my options, such as they were, she said, "A couple down the street was trying to adopt a few years ago, and from what she told me domestic adoptions are nearly impossible to arrange. They eventually adopted a little girl from Russia. She's sweet." She stopped, startled, and looked at me more closely. "She actually looks like you, now that I think about it. Same dark hair and eyes. You could do that, maybe."

  I nodded, and she said, "I'm sure they'd be happy to meet you and let you know how it all went for them. If you ever want that, let me know and I'll ask."

  There was something so restful about the way she made the offer without making me feel like she expected me to jump on it immediately. "Thanks. I'll do that if I get to that point."

  She nodded. "And I'm going to talk to Daniel. Ooh, or better yet, I'll just arrange it and tell him we're going. He'd like that. If I took the initiative."

  "Probably. Find a good place to park the minivan."

  She laughed, then we sat in silence again. It wasn't uncomfortable any more, though; somehow we'd become friends. I could actually imagine telling her about last night now, which I'd never thought would be possible. Amazing what a little openness could do for a relationship.

  After a few moments, she leaned forward and said softly, "There are other tables available," then jerked her head toward the door.

  I looked behind me, and sure enough the grumpy old man we'd seen before was surveying the place.

  The table he'd demanded we vacate, across from the one we were using, was empty, and I said, not really meaning it, "We should move. Want to?"

  She giggled. "Definitely." I liked that she knew I hadn't been serious.

  To our surprise, he walked right by his supposedly favorite table.

  "Where'd he go?" Sasha muttered to me because she couldn't see him any more.

  I watched, then shook my head. "Another table, just like that one but a few further back. So much for that being his favorite table."

  "The jerk just wanted to push us around," she said in shock. "Now I'm even more glad we didn't let him."

  "You didn't let him." I crumpled the empty bag that had contained my biscotti. "I just sat and watched."

  "No, the broken record thing was your idea. We're a team." She smiled, looking hopeful.

  "Yes," I said, smiling back. "We certainly are."

  To: Larissa

  Subject: I'm sorry, friend

  Dear Larissa,

  I know you must have been going through a lot of stuff to decide to move to Kuwait so suddenly. Or you DIDN'T go suddenly and you didn't feel like you could tell me about your plans. Either way, I'm sorry that I didn't recognize what you needed.

  I told you before you went about this 'good to yourself' project I'm doing. I really hope that you going away is a way for you to be good to yourself. Because you deserve that. You're a great person and I think I took you for granted. Sometimes you can't see what's right in front of you, and I didn't see how good a friend you are.

  If you can, I'd love to hear from you so I know you're all right. I miss you a lot, buddy. And I'm sorry.

  Lydia

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  "So what do you want on your pizza?"

  "Um... pepperoni, bacon, and tomatoes."

  Percy raised his eyebrows. "You mean tomato sauce?"

  "No, tomatoes. Fresh ones. They're really good on pizza."

  "If you say so, Flipper."

  "I do have a name, you know."

  He blinked in pretend confusion. "I know. It's Flipper."

  "I'm thinking of a name for you right now and it's not Percy."

  He laughed. "Then keep it to yourself. Okay, I'll order the pizza. You get your computer set up so we can deal with your site until the food gets here."

  I gave him a salute and set to work while he punched in our order on his laptop.

  I'd kept our goofy conversation going longer than I usually would have because when I was talking and being silly I didn't feel so bad inside. I'd tried to throw myself back into work after coffee with Sasha, and that had helped, but whenever my focus slipped I suffered twinges of whatever that weird last-night-related emotion was and I hated them.

  When Percy had suggested
we keep working tonight, I'd jumped at the idea since I hadn't wanted to spend the evening alone. I'd gone home to take care of Paddington, and even that much time by myself had made me feel terrible. Percy and I would work and eat and watch the hockey game and I wouldn't have to think. It'd be exactly what I needed.

  "Lydia?"

  I looked up to see Percy watching me, his eyes full of concern. "You okay?"

  I nodded, trying to sound confused. "Why?"

  "You've been different all day, not yourself. You seem... smaller, somehow. Paler. Diminished."

  As I looked up at him, stunned, he shook his head. "That sounds stupid."

  It didn't. Not at all. He'd nailed exactly how I felt. Small and blank. If he hadn't got it so right I'd have blown him off, but instead I sat looking at him because I had no idea what to say. I wanted to tell him but I didn't too and it was all tangled up together inside me.

  He moved to my side and held out his arms. "Would a hug help?"

  "Maybe." I stood and slipped my arms around his waist.

  Not maybe. Definitely. He held me close and I shut my eyes and leaned into him and felt the blankness going away. Being locked in the embrace of someone I knew cared about me was the epitome of being good to myself.

  He smoothed his hand over my hair and murmured, "Is there anything I can do?"

  "Don't let go," I said into his chest.

  "You got it."

  We stood together for a long time. Part of me thought I should feel weird or awkward staying there so long, but his strong warm body against mine felt like a heater melting the frostiness around my heart and I couldn't bear the idea of pulling away.

  I didn't realize how long he'd been holding me until the knock at his front door signaled our dinner's arrival. I pulled back reluctantly, but Percy kept his arms around me so I didn't get far. He looked down into my eyes, his expression a mix of concern and amusement, and said, "I said I wouldn't let go. Let's go get the pizza."