Page 132 of Perfect Mess

“Okay.” I took a deep breath of my own. “Is this what starting over looks like?” I asked.

“I suppose we’re about to find out.”

Earlier in the day, I had been absolutely certain that any hope for Gary and me to repair our friendship was long gone. But now? There was a glimmer of a possibility that Gary and I could still make things work. A teeny tiny itty bitty thread of hope. I had been given a second chance. This time, I would not screw it up. Take that Universe. Take that.

* * *

As soon asI got back to Aunt Catherine’s house, I showered, I shaved, and I misted myself with enough perfume to mask any lingering effects of my negligent hygiene. Then I had to figure out what to wear. Something that looked nice, but not too nice in case I spilled paint all over it, which was a realistic if not probable possibility.

I decided on the red tank top I wore to the Family Fun Run. One, it was red, so if I splattered paint all over myself, there was less of a chance Gary would notice. And two, I was still pretty sure I had caught him checking out my cleavage the last time I wore it and I needed every advantage I could get.

As soon as I opened the front door, Gary’s jaw dropped. “Wow.”

“Wow?”

“You cleaned up.” I could tell he was trying very hard to keep his eyes in a neutral position.

“Purrfect!” Kyle spotted Purrfect from the front doorway, and Purrfect spotted Kyle spotting her from where she had been licking herself in the dining room. It was like an episode of a Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote cartoon as Purrfect jumped straight up in the air, all four paws flailing, and then took off down the hall. Kyle gleefully gave chase.

Once the chaos subsided, Gary and I resumed eye contact. “You look …” Words seemed to fail him. But all the other parts of his body seemed to work just fine.

I smiled. “Thanks.” I watched closely to see if he glanced down toward my red tank top, but the man had the discipline of a fuzzy-hatted Buckingham Palace guard.

Desperate for a distraction, Gary held up two large takeout bags of Thai food. His biceps looked like pork dumplings bulging out of his Yale shirt. “I figured I would skip the burning dinner part and just jump straight to take out. You like crab Rangoon?”

“I love crab Rangoon.”

“I also got spring rolls, fried wontons, and shrimp tempura. I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for, so I got one of everything.”

I made a mental note not to drool. “If we eat all of that, I’ll probably be in the mood for a trip to the E.R. to have my stomach pumped.”

Gary smiled as I stepped aside. “Don’t worry, we can pace ourselves. We’ve got all night.”

“All night? I thought you wanted to take things slow,” I teased.

Gary tripped over the front door jamb and his cheeks turned the same color as the dining room wall we were about to paint. Bright pink. Using the bags of food as a distraction, he asked, “Where did you want me to put these? I still have to go out to the van to bring in the paint.”

I pointed to the dining room table. “We’re eating there tonight.”

Gary frowned. “But the open house is tomorrow. You did all that work to get everything perfect.”

“I figured it would be a shame to let it all go to waste.” Gary was right. I did a lot of work to get everything perfect. The napkins were folded, the silverware polished, I even ironed the tablecloth. “We have to use it at least once.”

While Gary went to fetch the paint, I pulled a couple of SourPaws from the fridge. When Gary returned, he set the paint in the foyer and then joined me at the table.

“To new beginnings.” I held up my beer bottle.

“To fresh starts.” Gary clinked his beer bottle against mine.

* * *

Dinner was amazing,and it wasn’t just the food. We ate, we drank, we laughed. Kyle told me all about hitting a double during his last little league game. It was almost perfect.

Almost.

As Gary and I cleaned up and Kyle and Purrfect settled on the couch to watch television, Gary asked, “So, have you talked to Janet lately?”

I took my time scrubbing a plate. “No,” I answered, rinsing the plate under a steady stream of water. “She still won’t return my calls.” To be honest, Janet was a topic I preferred to avoid. “We should get busy painting. Otherwise, you’re going to be stuck here all night.”

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