“You must have really missed me,” he said next to her ear. He’d noticed the difference in their sex but misinterpreted what was behind it.
Sebastian stayed with her for two days and talked to her about growing up with his mother and his guilt over his relationship with his father. He told her how angry he’d been when he’d been sent away as a child. She suspected he’d been more than angry. Although he might not admit it, she was sure he’d been hurt and bewildered too.
“I learned my lesson. That was the last time I told a girl how babies are made,” he said.
“Good. I was terrified of sex for years after that, and it was all your fault.”
He’d placed an innocent hand on his chest. “Mine?”
“Yes. You told me sperms were the same size as tadpoles.”
He’d laughed. “I don’t remember, but I probably did.”
“You did.”
They talked about their writing, and he told her he’d been hard at work on his book. He talked about the twists and turns of the plot and said he figured he was about halfway through. He also confessed he’d read all her books. She’d been so shocked she hadn’t known what to say.
“If they didn’t have half-naked guys on the covers, I think more men would read them,” he told her over dinner at her house.
She hadn’t thought it possible, but that night, looking across the table while he ate veal with sage marinade, she fell in love with him even more. “It may surprise you to know that I do have male readers. They write me all the time.” She smiled. “Of course, they’re all incarcerated for crimes they didn’t commit.”
He paused over his veal and looked up at her. “I hope you don’t write them back.”
“No.” Perhaps he didn’t love her now, but he was here, with her, and who knew how he would feel next week or next month.
The next time Sebastian drove into Boise, he was on his way home from a ski trip in Park City, Utah, where he’d met up with some of his journalism friends. It had been three weeks since his last visit, and he had plans to stay with Leo for several days and do some fishing at Strike Dam, where his father had told him people were pulling out twenty-two-inch rainbows. But within a few hours of his arrival, he called and picked Clare up at her house. Sebastian hated shopping more than any man she’d ever known, and he conned her into going to the mall with him. Leo’s back had started “acting up” and they went in search of a massager. Sebastian hoped to get his father feeling good enough for the drive to the dam in the morning.
Due to the change in plans, Sebastian decided to relax with Clare that evening and watch “kick-ass movies,” eat “salty popcorn,” and “drink beer.” At least they agreed on the popcorn. Clare was more of a wine person and preferred chick flicks, but he’d promised she would get to pick the movie next time.
“What was your favorite movie growing up?” Clare asked as they walked into Brookstone.
Without hesitation he said, “Willie Wonka.”
“Willie Wonka?” Clare stopped next to a display of ergonomic pillows. “I hated Willie Wonka.”
He glanced at her across his shoulder. “How can any kid hate Willie Wonka?”
They moved farther into the store, past a couple with twins in a double stroller, and Clare asked, “Didn’t you ever wonder why Grandpa Joe wouldn’t get out of bed until Willie came home with the golden ticket?”
“No.”
They stopped at the display of massagers. “For years he’d just laid there with the other grandparents while Willie’s mother worked to support them.” She picked up a massager the size of a pen and set it back down. “Then Willie gets the ticket, and puff, Grandpa Joe’ s magically cured. He starts dancing around and can go to Wonka Land all spry and energetic.”
“Once again, you overthink everything,” Sebastian said, and picked up a massager with a bulbous blue head. “Like most kids, I just thought about all that candy.” He grinned and held up the massager. “What does this remind you of?”
“I wouldn’t know,” she lied, and took it from his hands. She replaced it with one that had a big triangular head and couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.
“What was your favorite movie?” he asked as he flipped the switch and rubbed it across the back of her pink fleece jacket.
“Ahh.” She shivered and her voice rattled a little as she spoke. “I have several. When I was little, my favorite movie was Cinderella. The old Rodgers and Hammerstein television version. When I was in junior high, I loved Pretty in Pink and Sixteen Candles.”
“Pretty in Pink? Is that one of those Molly Ringwald movies?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it?”
“Hell no.” He flipped the Off switch and picked up a massage belt. “I’m a guy. We don’t watch movies like that unless there’s something in it for us.”
“Sex.”
He grinned. “Or at least second base.”
She laughed and turned toward a massage chair. Her laughter died and shock lifted her brows as she came face-to-face with her past.
“Hello, Clare.”
“Lonny.” He was as handsome and as groomed as she remembered. By his side stood a blonde about his same height.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“Fine.” And she was. Seeing him again, she felt nothing. Not a racing heart nor a killing rage.
“This is my fiancée, Beth. Beth, this is Clare.”
Fiancée? That was fast. She turned her attention to the other woman. “It’s nice to meet you, Beth.” She held out her hand to the woman who obviously believed Lonny loved her as a man could love a woman. Only he wasn’t capable of that kind of love.
“You too.” Her fingers barely touched Clare’s before she dropped her hand. The woman was in denial. As deep as she had once been, wanting to believe in something so bad, and refusing to see the reality that was staring her in the face. She supposed the right thing to do would be to let Beth in on the secret life of her fiancé, but it really wasn’t her job to disillusion the delusional.
Before Clare could introduce Sebastian, he stepped forward and offered his hand to Lonny. “I’m Clare’s friend, Sebastian Vaughan.”
Clare’s friend. She looked over her right shoulder at Sebastian, at the reality staring right at her. After all these months. She was no more than a friend to him. Her chest imploded right there in Brookstone, next to all those bulbous massagers, for Lonny and Beth and the lady with twins to see. She was no better than Beth. No different from the day she had found Lonny in that closet, literally and figuratively. She thought she’d changed. Grown. Learned. She was as delusional as ever. She wanted to crawl away. Crawl away and fold in on herself.
Through a haze, she made small talk for several more minutes before Lonny and Beth walked away. She stood beside Sebastian as he bought the massage belt for Leo. He didn’t see that she was falling apart. When they left the mall, passing all those people, no one seemed to notice that she was dying inside.
On the drive home he talked about his ski trip and mentioned that he was thinking about taking Leo fishing in Alaska for salmon. It wasn’t until they pulled into her mother’s driveway that Clare finally looked over at the man who was no more capable of loving her than Lonny.