Chapter 9

When we got home there was no sign of Carrie. We looked through both Justin’s apartment and mine but we didn’t see her anywhere. Justin pulled out his phone and called her as I started serving up the pizza.

“Where are you?” I heard him say. “Why didn’t you call me? You didn’t leave a note,” He listened for a minute. “It’s common courtesy.” He turned his back and walked through to his kitchen. I tried to pretend I wasn’t listening. “What does that have to do with anything?” His voice was rising slightly. “I told you she’s my friend.” He listened some more. “It’s a drawing, I’m an artist.” Pause. “You know what, just forget it. I’m done, I can’t deal with you anymore.” He listened. “I think that would be best. I’ll see you around.” And he hung up.

By this time morbid curiosity had me and I was staring at his back through the kitchen door. He turned more quickly than I expected. I spun and tried to look like I had been doing something else. I heard him laugh behind me. “You’re not fooling anyone, I know you were listening”

“You make it hard not to, you could at least shut the door.”

“Yeah but you’d still listen, you’d just have to work for it.”

I put my hand on his arm. “I’m sorry about you and Carrie.”

He shook his head and half smiled. “Don’t be. We should have broken up a long time ago. We just never got around to it.”

“Where is she?”

This time he did smile, a self-deprecating rueful grin. “At the mall. There was a huge sale on shoes at Baker’s.”

I found my interest piqued in spite of myself. I pushed it aside.

“Mama, can I go outside?” Gus interrupted.

It was sunny and even relatively warm. “Yeah, we can eat outside, but you have to eat.”

We all headed out onto the patio in the small backyard. Gus sat for about one minute and had one bite of pizza, then he headed for the sandbox.

We sat out and chatted and enjoyed the sunshine for another half hour or so before I made Gus sit and eat. Then Justin cleared the dishes while I trundled Gus off for a nap.

When I came back into the kitchen Justin was rinsing off the dishes and loading them into my dishwasher. “Don’t worry about those, I’ll do them, “I said.

“It’s OK. I got it.”

“No really don’t worry about it.

I could see the corners of his mouth turn up. “It’s OK. I don’t mind.”

“I’ll do it,” I said reaching for the plate in his hand.

He slapped my hand away grinning. “You think I don’t wash them right.”

“No that’s not it.” I made a grab for his hand but it was soapy and I slid off.

“Then what?”

“Nothing.” I grabbed again

“What is it?” He held the plate above his head where I couldn’t reach it. I jumped and he slid the plate behind his back. “Why won’t you let me do the dishes Em?”

I reached behind his back and got a hold of his wrist. I reached around with my other hand and grabbed the plate. I looked up into his face. “You don’t load the dishwasher right.”

The left side of his mouth pulled up into a crooked smile. “Has anyone told you that you’re beyond anal retentive?”

“You did. The other day,” I said but I suddenly found that I was having trouble concentrating on the conversation. Justin smelled like cologne and pizza and I could feel the heat radiating from his body. I had the sudden desire to kiss him. Some part of my brain said don’t be silly, he’s one of your best friends. You don’t want to be kissing him. But he was looking directly into my eyes and I thought I saw a flicker of the same thought in his eyes.

The pro-kissing part of my head won out. My right hand released the plate and slid along the back of his head through his hair as I pulled him down to me. It had been a long time since I had done this but I was pretty sure that Justin was an exceptional kisser.

Suddenly Justin pulled away. He stared down at me, eyes wild, his breathing was ragged. “I can’t do this.”

I was having a little trouble catching my breath as well. “I know, Carrie.” Wait, you broke up with Carrie.

He pulled away shaking his head. “It’s not that, I, I can’t do this. Not with you.” He turned and headed to his apartment through the kitchen door. He closed the door behind him.

I stood for a minute confused. Not with me? What he does that mean, he can’t do this with me? I offer myself, at least some of myself, and he passes? Hey, I’m cute and I know it’s been a while but no one’s ever complained about my kissing before. It’s not like I can’t get a date.

I was still breathing hard but the blood had certainly returned to my head and my jaw was clenched. I can get a date, I’ll get a date right now.

I picked up the phone and called information. Out of force of habit I jotted down the number as it was read to me but I paid the extra money and just had them connect me to the Washington Suite, Alexandria. “Jack Rossini’s room please.” I asked the switchboard operator.

Ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi Jack, it’s Emery. I was wondering if you still wanted to go out?”

“Yeah, that would be great. What are you doing Tuesday morning?”

I glanced at the calendar on the wall. “Nothing. I’m off all day.”

“Great I’ll pick you up at 11:00. Where do you live?”

I gave him my address.

“OK, I’ll see you Tuesday.” And he hung up.

When I disconnected I stood staring at the calendar. But I had calmed down. What did I just do? I just made a date with an almost complete stranger who also happens to be a new doctor at work AND he’s a complete egomaniac who thinks women should shed their panties for a smile. OK, that last may not be true but he does come off that way. There are so many things wrong with this scenario. I called the Washington Suites back. I asked for Jack’s room again. It rang, and rang, and rang. No answer, did I want to leave a message?

“No.” I couldn’t leave a message with the operator breaking a date. I’d do it Monday, he said he was working Monday. That way I’d have time to figure out what to say. It had occurred to me that I didn’t know what I would have said if he had answered anyway. Somehow I didn’t think “I just accepted a date with you because my very good friend with whom I had just been making out said that he couldn’t do that with me,” was the right way to go at all.

Gus and I spent Sunday building the world’s biggest railroad. At least I was building it. Gus was making his dinosaurs stomp across the tracks, tearing them apart. But he seemed to enjoy it and it mostly kept my mind off Justin. That evening was our standing date at my parents’.

We ran into Justin on our way out. He was coming up the porch as I locked the front door and when I turned I froze for a beat. Gus didn’t seem to notice any tension, he launched himself at Justin in the usual manner.

“Hey, I was wondering…” I started. Justin looked over Gus’s head. “...If you’re going to be around tomorrow morning or if I need to get Laura to tend Gus early?”

“I’ll be here.” He looked at Gus. “I can’t start my day right without my buddy.”

“Great…OK.”

While I drove I tried to go into my, now standard, “what happened during the Bridger Hamilton case?” mode but I ended up thinking about kissing Justin and that of course reminded me that I still needed to break my date with Jack. It was all starting to be a little too much for me.