“Is there any way to get Bernadette a ride to Yardsmouth?”
“Why?” I’m still not looking at him.
“Because if we did, we could be alone here from eleven-thirty to two.” He’s looking at me now.
I flush, like actually flush. “Oh,” I say.
“Can we?”
“I’ll call Jenna,” I say. I still haven’t looked at him, but he reaches for my hand under the blanket. Like that’s the most normal thing in the world.
CHAPTER 10
I’m careful not to make eye contact with Leo throughout breakfast. I can feel him watching me, but I can’t risk my kids seeing whatever lustful madness might cross my face if we lock eyes. I make an overly complicated breakfast of from-scratch waffles and sausage. I go for a slightly longer than usual run and find that I have burned off zero percent of my nervous energy. I shower and dress and head back downstairs. I’ve caught Arthur’s attention.
“Do you have something today?”
I stop on the stairs. I look at him and then, finally, at Leo. “Why?”
“That dress. Do you have a party?”
I look down at my yellow sundress, and I don’t really have an explanation. My regular T-shirt and jeans uniform didn’t seem good enough today. Maybe on some unconscious level I think jeans are hard to get off and leave seam lines on your skin? I silently curse myself for showing my hand.
“Oh, I’m a little behind on laundry. Why don’t you grab Howie’s gift and I’ll drop you at the movie theater.”
“Mom. It’s only ten-thirty.”
“Right.” Leo’s at the kitchen counter pretending to read something on his phone, but I catch him stifling a laugh.
* * *
? ? ?
After Jenna’s come for Bernadette and we hear her car pull onto the main road, Leo crosses the kitchen and takes me into his arms. With my body on high alert, I realize that I am badly in need of this hug. The strength of his arms around me and the reassuring smell of him is starting to calm me down.
“So where are we right now?” he says into my hair.
“I’m terrified,” I admit.
“Me too. Can I take you out to the tea house?”
It feels like the right idea, to get away from the smell of waffles and stacks of dishes into a space where we can think more clearly. “Sure,” I say, and he takes my hand as we walk barefoot outside.
When we’re inside, he shuts the door. I’m not sure where to be so I sit down on his unmade bed. Leo doesn’t join me.
“Want me to make a fire?”
“It’s pretty warm in here.”
“Right.” He straightens the chair at the table. He folds a sweater that had been hanging on the back. It feels like he’s stalling. I scoot back on the bed and curse the dress choice again. I want to bring my knees to my chest in a protective posture so that I can feel safe while I discern what’s happening here. Out of propriety, I can only sit crisscross-applesauce, which leaves me feeling childish and exposed.
“Can I come sit with you?” he asks.
“Of course.” He walks the two steps to the bed and sits down carefully, like the placement of his body might accidentally detonate a bomb.
I need to touch him and I am starting to worry this might be my last chance. I take his hand in mine and I run my fingers over his palm. I’ll do this forever to avoid hearing him say this was a mistake.
I say, “I know why I’m terrified. What are you so nervous about? Don’t you do this all the time?” I’m trying to lighten things up, like we’re just Nora and Leo shooting the breeze, but it falls flat.
“You’re a real person.”
“Because I drive a Subaru?” I’m not sure when I developed this knack for bringing up the world’s least sexy things at the worst possible times.
“Because I know you. I don’t have a lot of experience with that.”
“Well, I don’t have a lot of experience at all,” I say.
“We don’t have to do this.” He says this, but now his hand is on the inside of my crossed ankle. He’s studying the line he’s drawing up the length of my calf. The feel of his fingers barely touching my skin as they reach the back of my knee makes me catch my breath.
“I think we do,” I say, almost in a whisper because I don’t trust my voice. He looks up and kisses me deeply, gripping his hands behind my head, as if I’m a flight risk. As if. I am so dizzy with this kiss that I don’t know when my arms wrap around his neck and my legs find their way around his back. The dress, as it turns out, was a good decision. We are in a frenzy of clothing removal, and when there is nothing between us, everything but my heart rate slows down. He kisses me slowly, and as he starts to make love to me, I know for sure that Leo hasn’t been acting. In his rawest state, with his guard completely down, he is the same person who’s been sitting on my porch—attentive, listening, staying for the whole story. For the first time in my life, I have left my busy, busy mind and now exist only in the smell of Leo’s neck. The sound of Leo whispering my name. The slick of his skin now damp with sweat. The feeling of my body opening up to something so powerful I don’t know how I’ll return from it.