Page 34 of Holly Freakin' Hughes

Isucked in a gust of air and exhaled loudly, rubbing my hand against myforehead. “Oh, well, that was always the plan, but you know, my eggs are justshriveling up into nothingness at this point, so who the hell knows.”

“Ah,come on, you’re not that old.”

Irolled my eyes. “I’m almost thirty-two. That’s pretty old.”

Brandon’sjaw dropped. “Hey, fuck you. I’ll be thirty-seven next year.”

Iglared at him through my eyelashes. “It’s different for you. You can have kidsforever, but me?” I waved a hand in the air, dismissing the idea. “I still haveto lock a guy down to give me his seed anyway, and we both know wherethat’sgoing right now.”

Hesighed. “It shouldn’t be that hard.”

"Yeah,okay. Just look at me. I look like I crawled out of a hole somewhere."

Brandonlaughed. "You mean guys don't normally like this living dead thing youhave going on?" That made me giggle a little bit, and he smiled. "Butreally, I'm sure you'll find that lucky guy who wants you and your shriveled-upeggs. And hey, there’s always artificial insemination, right?"

Wesat in silence then. Brandon had turned to the notebook again, ferventlyscribbling something down with a determined look on his face. Shamefullyfeeling a little ignored, I sipped my tea and glanced around the near-emptystore. It was a few minutes before closing and it was only a matter of timebefore Bill or Scott came over to kick us out. I would go home to Liz's, hewould go to what was undoubtedly a beautiful house in Brightwaters, and wewould sleep alone.God, I didn't want to sleep alone. Not when myshriveled eggs were so fresh in my mind, and I just wanted to be held insomeone’s arms as they told me everything would be okay.

Heseemed to be the only person who could make me believe it.

Brandonstopped his scribbling, closed the book, and as he looked up at me, a fewstrands of hair fell into his eyes.

"Youokay?" He put the pen down, focusing entirely on me again.

Noteven a little bit.

Iforced a smile that I hoped said I was doing just swell, and said, "Yeah,but I should probably get going. They're going to close soon."

"Wecould hang out longer, if you want to. We could go to the diner."

Ishook my head, knowing the temptation would’ve been too great if I did.Somewhere along the line, I'd ask him if we could go back to his place, or ifhe wanted to come see my lame little room back at my sister's house, thanks tomy ovaries that I was suddenly very aware of. Maybe there wouldn't be sex, butthere very well could have been if I had my way, and I needed to just stay awayfrom that.

So,we both stood from the table. Empty cups were thrown into the trash can, andScott wished us a good night. Brandon walked me to the minivan and opened thedoor for me. He leaned down to kiss my cheek, but on his way to touch his lipsto my skin, I thought there was a moment of hesitation when his mouth was justinches from mine. Or maybe it was just my imagination, my own subconsciouswanting to see something that wasn't there. That's what I told myself while Igot intoOl' Rusty and watched him walk to his fancy-shmancyMercedes, and I felt okay with that.

Thatis, until we drove our separate ways and I remembered the cold bed I was goinghome to and the warm friend I was leaving.

CHAPTERTWELVE

HOLLY

Anna spent every weekend withher father.That was no different on this particular weekend,but what had set it apart was that she was being dropped off on Monday, asopposed to being picked up the day before. Mark and his wife had taken Anna andtheir one-and-a-half-year-old son Jacob to Sesame Place for a Halloween show. Avery nice little trip that I had found myself feeling jealous of, despite thedestination being full of singing, dancing puppet people.

Itook pleasure in the morning alone after Liz had left for work. I had beendetermined not to think about anything but me while I ate my yogurt parfait inpeace, watching aFrasierrerun. Once I had eaten, I allowed myself toindulge a bit with a nice, hot bubble bath accompanied by the romance novel ofthe week. When the doorbell rang, I was already dried and dressed, savoring thelast few precious seconds of quiet as I walked to the door.

Mark,Liz’s ex-husband, stood on the other side with Anna in his arms, sporting afrown that told me my morning was going to be extra appreciated by the end ofthe day. It was an odd thing, seeing him for the first time in years. Liz hadalways been around to deal with him, so I never had to—boy, did he ever feellike a stranger.

“HeyHolly,” he said with a civil smile. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Yeah,you too,” I said, returning the gesture.

Andreallyfreakin’ bizarre.

Itwas funny to me that during Liz’s relationship to him, I had never thoughtabout him at all as being a decent looking guy, but now that they were divorcedfor three, going on four, years, I couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t halfbad. I took note of the short sandy blonde hair that blew gently in the breeze,the definition of muscles underneath his t-shirt, and the smile that was alittle too white.

Or,you know, I could have just been desperate. Either way.

Westood in the doorway for a few painstaking moments; the discomfort became moreand more evident between us. Was I supposed to invite him in? Did I actuallyhave to socialize with this guy I never really socialized with, even during theyears that he and my sister had been together? Was that in my job description?

Cometo think of it, I wasn’t entirely sure what my job description even was.

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