Listen Page 6

  He’s gorgeous. I can’t wait to meet him. She punctuated it with a smiley face that mirrored my own. She was still interested.

  Dinner at my place next week? I sent it before I had a chance to think. It was just like the piano app on my phone. I acted before I thought. I waited.

  Only if it’s a little bit later. With the concert this week, I have extra practices with students. Can we do dinner around eight? Or is that too late?

  She could have said midnight and I would have pretended that was perfect for me. That’s fine. Or we can wait until after the concert and do it next week. Self-sabotage. I was great at it.

  How about Tuesday? Just text me your address and I’ll see you and Clio at eight. I’ll bring dessert. I texted her my address and looked around my place. It was always clean, but my energy level ramped up the second she said yes. I mentally made a plan to clean all day Sunday. I also didn’t want her to have an allergy fit, so I would vacuum again right before she showed up. Right then, I was going to the gym to work off my excess energy and try not to think about Hope being the first person I’d ever invited over to my place.

  ***

  “So, this is your last week?” Mr. Hoyt knocked and walked into my office. I looked up from the computer and pulled out my earbuds. I was listening to a book on how to be social without sounding like an idiot or something like that. It was Tuesday, and Hope was coming over for dinner. My house was spotless. I wasn’t even going to try to cook. I was too nervous and I knew I would burn myself or the food. I had the Italian restaurant across the street on speed dial. Their Caprese salad and bruschetta was a nice, light meal that I knew Hope would enjoy.

  “Yes. I will be out of your hair in no time.” I tried hard not to look at his shiny, balding head that seemed to perpetually sweat. Fuck, I needed a filter. There were about three seconds of awkwardness as we both mentally maneuvered past it.

  “You know, if you ever want to transfer here, we would love to have you full-time. With our company growing as much as it is, we could use the help on a permanent basis,” he said.

  “That’s a very generous suggestion.” I was noncommittal. I liked working at B&T, but I missed working from home and hanging out with Clio more. Socializing myself was only going to happen taking baby steps. My confidence was twice what it was, but I was not ready to spend every day with people. “I really enjoyed my time here, but I also like my job at Banks Corporation.”

  He nodded. “I understand. Just keep me in mind if you are ever looking.” He smiled and shuffled backward out of my office.

  Nice guy, but really weird. I put my headphones on and continued listening to a woman tell me that I was important. She suggested ways to avoid social awkwardness. Sometimes people didn’t get along. Sometimes they did, but it was hard to read between the lines. I was bound and determined to remain calm. I nixed medication a long time ago. I didn’t need any since I worked from home and was rarely around people. I looked at the clock. It was only two. It was time for a break and I knew exactly where I was headed.

  I smiled when I heard the music. Somebody was jazzing it up with a trumpet. A few minutes later, a percussion joined in. I heard the mess-ups and the laughter associated with them, still foreign to me. I was tense but reminded myself to relax. They were having a good time upstairs, so I should enjoy it, too. I sat down on the steps, closed my eyes, and listened to the music. I didn’t care who was watching me. I wanted to be a part of this fun. Hope wasn’t instructing, and I wondered if she was inside with another student in a different room.

  “Hi, you.” As if she read my mind, Hope bounced down the stairs and sat down next to me. She placed her hand on my knee and leaned into me. “What a nice surprise.”

  I clenched my hands into fists to keep from shaking. The nearness of her was a lot to absorb. It was great, but also unnerving. She must have sensed my apprehension because she scooted a few inches away from me. The smile never left her face.

  “I needed a break and thought this was the perfect way to escape,” I said.

  “Well, it’s a nice surprise. I didn’t think I would see you until tonight.” I noticed a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose and wondered if our excursion Saturday brought them out. I looked up when the trumpet slid into a soft and slow soulful song. It was beautiful. We both clapped when the student was done.

  “That was great. Who’s playing?” Not that I would know the student, but I had to know their name. Plus, I was so nervous with Hope so close to me and had energy to expel.

  “Tyler. You probably haven’t heard him before. He’s sixteen and just started coming here for lessons. This kid doesn’t need lessons. He just needs to be heard. He will definitely play on Friday,” she said. She was proud of him.

  “How long is the concert?” I asked. Since I’d left early last month, I wasn’t sure.

  “About an hour and a half. Wait, are you bailing on me already?” She smiled.

  “No, not at all. I was curious because I left early last time. I’m going to try really hard to stay until the end.” She didn’t question me. For whatever reason, Hope let me be me. She never pressed me for information. She was the perfect person to bring me out of my shell.

  “You probably need to get back to it. Long day ahead.” I thumbed behind me and Hope’s shoulders slumped.

  “Yeah, I know, but I wanted to at least say hi. Hi.” She was so cute right now, and so close.

  “Hi. I should probably go, too,” I said. She stood and reached her hand out to help me up. Without thinking, I slid my hand into hers and almost moaned at her warmth and strength. She pulled me up and stepped closer so we were only a few inches apart. I gasped at her nearness.

  “Have a good day, Lily. I’ll see you tonight at eight.” Gone was the playful Hope. She’d been replaced by a very sensual one. Her voice got a tinge huskier and her eyes narrowed.

  I swallowed. I walked away frightened and exhilarated for tonight.

  Chapter Eight

  “Clio, I need you around, especially if I run out of things to talk about.”

  I had brushed him a thousand times until his fur was shiny and he was pissed off. You could take the cat out of the alley, but not the alley out of the cat. He didn’t like pampering at all. Food, a warm bed, and an occasional full body pat from right behind his crooked ears to his misshapen tail. That was it. That was all he wanted.

  I glanced at the clock for the fifth time in the last two minutes. Hope was supposed to be here in ten minutes. The food was on its way over and my house was in tip-top shape. There wasn’t a speck of dirt or a loose Clio hair anywhere to be found. I looked around. My place was practical but not cozy. The soft gray couch was comfortable but plain. I had zero flair. The only colorful thing in my living room was a red umbrella I had hanging from the coat rack by the front door. I regretted not having artwork on the walls, but it was too late to do anything about it. The doorbell rang and I buzzed up the food. I tipped Ryan, the nice college kid who delivered, and shoved him quickly out into the hall. Not that I wanted Hope to think I cooked the food, but I was nervous and needed a few minutes to breathe.

  My phone rang. “Hi, it’s me. I’m downstairs.”

  I buzzed Hope up and paced until I heard a firm, yet friendly knock at the door.

  “Wish me luck, Clio.” He looked at me curiously but didn’t move from his perch on the armrest of the sofa.

  “You made it,” I all but whispered to Hope. She wore jeans and a cute blouse, and I wondered if she went home to change or brought the clothes to work and changed. My mind was obsessing about her wardrobe. Be normal, I mentally scolded myself.

  “Of course I did. I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” she said. Oh, boy. She was giving me the same look that she did on the stairs earlier today.

  “You changed.” Apparently I wasn’t going to let it go.

  “So did you,” she said. “Are you going to invite me in?”

  “Oh, my gosh. Yes, please. Come in.” I stepped
back to let her in. I smiled at the floral perfume I now recognized as her scent.

  “You must be Clio.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a tiny toy mouse and dangled it in front of his nose. He studied her, then the toy, then her again. She shook it faster. “Get it, boy, get it.” He lazily reached up and pulled it from her grip.

  We both watched as he tucked it under his hindquarters. He returned our stares and yawned.

  “I have no explanation for his actions, but thank you for thinking of him.” Great. My cat was also a weirdo. I was really banking on his normalcy to keep us going through the evening.

  Hope laughed. “Cats are like kids. Completely unpredictable and adorable at the same time.” She rubbed his head and jawline and took a moment to look around my condo. “You have a very nice place.”

  “Thank you,” I said. My entire nonexistent childhood paid for it, I thought. I gave her a quick tour but stayed completely away from my bedroom. It was more of a point and explain thing because I was worried about the food getting cold.

  “I love that you can see the fire escape from your living room. It gives the place such character.”

  “Right there is where Clio stood. He just stared at me and meowed. I never had any pets before, so it was quite the experience. He was wary of me and me of him for several days. Now he lets me hold him and swing him around,” I said.

  “Except he doesn’t like it when you do that,” Hope said.

  I smiled recalling our text messages from the other night. “True. If you are hungry, let’s eat before the food gets cold. They just delivered it from across the street.”

  Hope had brought over wine and she poured herself a glass. When I poured myself one, too, I saw the look of surprise on her face before she covered it up. I needed all the help I could get. We fixed our plates and I followed Hope into the formal dining room. It felt snobbish to sit here, but the view of the city was nice. I never ate in this room. It reminded me too much of my upbringing, but I sat down and focused on Hope, not on my past.

  “It smells delicious,” she said.

  “I don’t cook.” I was so nervous that I was resorting back to my Neanderthal grunts and reminded myself to relax. I took a deep breath and explained. “I mean, it’s hard to cook for one person, so I never developed a passion for it like so many people.” I cooked breakfast like a champ, but inviting a woman back to your place for bacon and eggs just seemed too comfortable and plain.

  “I love to cook, but you’re right. It’s hard to cook for one person. My refrigerator contents consist of yogurts, vegetables, jellies I don’t remember buying, and beer I forget to drink,” she said.

  I took a sip of wine. “So, why are you only cooking for one person? How is somebody so accomplished still single?” I asked. I stopped myself from bestowing compliment after compliment: you’re so beautiful, you’re so sweet and nice, you do such great work for the community. Asking why she was single was a giant step for my comfort level. I took another drink. Red wine wasn’t bad when washed down with Italian food.

  “I just needed to focus on me. My last relationship suffered because I was so involved in getting Leading Note up and running that my girlfriend faded away. I forgot that I was part of something greater than myself.” She shrugged, took a bite of food, and continued after swallowing. “Now that things are relaxed, sort of, at the organization, I decided to get back to me.”

  “What happened to your ex-girlfriend? Did you try reaching out to her?” I was so curious that I didn’t even think that the questions might be hurtful. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

  “She moved on, and rightfully so. I harbor no ill will toward her. I see her at functions here and there.” She pulled a piece of mozzarella from her salad and held it down for Clio.

  “He will sniff that forever and never eat…” I stopped talking when Clio leaned up, delicately took the cheese from Hope’s fingers, and chewed it up. He looked back up at her when he was done. “I can’t believe that. Cheese is the only thing he won’t eat. At least not from me.”

  “He knows good food. Perhaps you should spoil him more.” She winked at me to let me know she was kidding when she saw my chest puff up as I started to defend myself. Hope had a way of putting me at ease, something several of my many therapists couldn’t do.

  We moved our conversation from the dining room into the living room and stared out at the city. Hope asked me about my job, what I loved about Chicago, and I asked her about music. It felt safe talking about it with her. I trusted her. She didn’t push me, didn’t ask me my background.

  “Close your eyes,” she said. I smiled and obliged. “Tell me what you hear.”

  “I hear the heart of the city. Beating. Making music.” I opened my eyes and looked at her. She shook her head.

  “That’s not good enough. Close your eyes and listen, really listen. Tell me the city’s song,” she said.

  I did as she asked and focused on the little noises. “The constant whirls of the air conditioners, the moaning and hissing of the buses, the continuous thump thump as people drive over the manhole covers.” I stopped and listened even harder. “I think I even hear a trumpet somewhere.” I smiled and opened my eyes to find Hope only a few inches from my face. I stilled and held my breath. She placed a tiny kiss on the corner of my mouth.

  “Is this okay?” she whispered against my skin.

  I nodded. Excitement and fear coursed through my veins when I felt her lips very softly, very slowly, press against mine. Our first kiss was the purest thing I’d ever felt. It stripped me of every thought, every nerve, every hesitation I had about her. When our lips moved together in a rhythm that came to me as naturally as breathing, my whole being exploded with a melody I had never heard or felt before. She left me breathless with the softest kiss.

  She slowly pulled away from me, her warm fingers touching my neck. “Wow.”

  I stared at her. I was sure every emotion flashed across my face from disbelief to happiness to utter shock. I’d been kissed by three women in my life. Carrie, in college, who tried to have sex with me every single time we were alone, but never got anywhere. Gina, a woman I met online, who slobber-kissed me good night after a lukewarm date. And Hope, who created the magic that just happened. I didn’t know how to process my feelings, so I stared. Was this how it was for everybody? I’d felt the world instantly stop once before, and my life changed forever. I’d just felt it stop again, and I knew my life had changed again. This time, it changed for the better. The corners of my mouth curled up.

  “Yeah, wow.” There were no words for this moment.

  She reached out for my hand and stroked the top of my fingers. “That was really nice. Thank you.” She was thanking me? I didn’t understand.

  “Um, why?” Ah, yes, my vast vocabulary that I reserved for Hope just pushed its way out. “I mean, you don’t have to thank you—I mean, thank me.” I was a wreck. I wanted to bury my embarrassed face in my hands and hide. I refrained and instead looked down at my hands resting in my lap.

  “Because you trusted me close to you.” She interlocked her fingers with mine. “You’re shaking.”

  “This…” I paused because my voice shook. I cleared my throat. “This is very new to me and I like it. I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Hey. Stop. Look at me,” Hope said. I looked at her. She brushed my hair out of my face with her fingertips and tucked it behind my ear. “There is no right or wrong here. We are just two women hopefully starting a relationship. I’m in no rush and I’m not going anywhere. Okay?” I nodded. “I know you’re nervous. I am, too, but I’m also excited to get to know you better. So, if you’re interested in me and want to see where this goes, I’m willing to try.”

  I nodded again. “Okay.” I was quietly processing everything.

  “Okay.” She sat next to me and quietly held my hand until I relaxed and got comfortable with her nearness and warmth. “Tell me what you do when you aren’t working. I don’t wan
t to say what do you do for fun, but what keeps you busy and out of trouble?”

  I laughed. I’d never been in trouble. “I like to play the stock market, but that doesn’t really keep me out of trouble.”

  “Another joke. I love it,” Hope said.

  I smiled. “I like shooting pool and playing table tennis. And I do read a lot. What about you? What do you like to do?”

  “I love to bake. I also like to read. I’m horrible at pool and I’ve never tried table tennis. I like spending time with my family. They’re loud and obnoxious, but they are a part of me. I don’t have a lot of spare time, but when I do, I try to learn different instruments.”

  I felt a slight squeeze when she talked about her family. I knew that if I met them, it couldn’t all be at once. Based on the stories she’d told me, I couldn’t imagine being in a large, loud crowd without freaking out a few times.

  “I also have a confession,” Hope said.

  My heart sped up, then felt like it stopped. I was nervous for what she was going to say, for no other reason than I’d learned to always expect the worst. “I hate finances and everything to do with math. I don’t know a single thing about them. You said stock market and I went blank. My eyes glossed over. My brain turned to jelly.” She nudged her shoulder into mine as I relaxed. Her confession was playful.

  “It’s not for everyone.”

  “Why do you like math so much?”

  She was genuinely interested and I told myself to keep my answer short and sweet so that she wouldn’t keel over from boredom. “I like it because it’s definite. It’s not going to surprise me.” Simple. I nodded at her.

  “I can respect that. I could never make a living out of it, but I can understand how it appeals to some people. And by some people, I mean smart people.”

  “I’m not that smart,” I said. I was, but I didn’t want to come across as pompous, so I kept quiet.