Page 22 of The Best Book Boyfriend
After months stuck at home grieving, I realised the best I could dream up was a small and simple life, but one where I wasn’t lonely. I’d cut myself off from everyone, but I needed to be around people. I sold our house, downsized to this place a couple of towns over, and took out a lease on the old haberdashers. Then I spent a few months making loose plans for Sunshine Coffee and trying not to shit myself. Was going from not leaving the house to renovating a building and starting a new business with zero expertise a good idea? Well, today I’ll say yes, but there were definitely a lot of stressful moments along the way.
Heather also made me promise I’d laugh every day, and that one’s really bloody hard. She used to say my laugh was her favourite thing about me, but for a long time I didn’t think I’d be able to laugh at anything ever again. Other people laughing felt like an insult. How could people laugh when my wife is dead?
The third promise feels more like a curse the longer it goes unfulfilled. It’s been two and a bit years since she died. I’ve heard stories of people who remarry six months later, and stories of folks who live out the rest of their days alone. There doesn’t seem to be a normal amount of time for ‘moving on’. Whatever that means.
When she told me about the promises, I walked outside in tears and threw up in a bush in the hospice garden. I could see she was trying to be sweet and gentle about it, but then she didn’t hold back. She said I shouldn’t feel guilty about having sex, should have lots of it to make up for all I’ve missed out on, should make an entire brood of babies. As if I could think about any of that when I was only thinking about the time we had left together. Every day, every hour, every minute, was a gift we didn’t think we’d ever get.
Even the idea of being with someone else is terrifying. Heather is the only person I’ve ever slept with, so I don’t exactly have a bank of experiences to conjure up if the mood to get off strikes. And it doesn’t strike often. Depression and grief will do that to you. Infrequent forays into online porn have alternated between bleak and terrifying. I don’t really feel attracted to anyone, haven’t really allowed myself to think about women in that way.
Does that mean I’ll never have sex again? I guess I assumed I would eventually, and maybe that point is nearer than I thought. The idea of having sex with someone new is terrifying, but somehow the idea of being celibate forever is even worse.
Halfway through Kara’s next book recommendation, I decide that maybe I do want to have sex. It’s just sex, isn’t it? It doesn’t have to be a big deal. If the characters in a book can be so laid back and casual about it, maybe I can too. Though obviously it will only happen if she’s keen, and I’ve no idea where her head is at.
Jesus, the stuff they get up to in these books. It’s probably not even that wild, and I’m just being naive about what people get up to behind closed doors, but I’ve been thinking about sex more in the past two weeks than I have in a long time.
When Kara texts to tell me she’s looking forward to dinner and to ask if she can bring anything, I feel like a teenage boy anticipating how our evening might go. Something about her has woken all of those emotions up again, even though it’s hard to feel these things without immediately feeling a rush of guilt and sadness.
I’m still way too embarrassed to buy condoms, though. I tried to in the supermarket, but then I saw a customer I recognised from Sunshine turn down the aisle so I put them back. In the end, I buy them online and shove them in the back of my bedside drawer. I feel guilty for even thinking about it.
Chapter 11
Kara
Ihaveneverbeenthis nervous in my life. My hand trembles when I open Luke’s garden gate. Steeling myself like I’m arriving for a job interview, I’m mortified when he opens the door before I’ve even knocked. Either he was watching for me out of the window, or he could hear me doing a terrible job of closing the gate which, unbearably, I still seem to be struggling with.
“Just leave it,” he calls from the doorway where he’s leaning against the frame with a tea towel flung over his shoulder, looking every bit the modern domesticated romance hero. “The latch is really tricky.”
“Oh great, cool.”What the fuck is cool about not being able to close a gate, Kara, you moron?
My face goes red and he must notice when he greets me with a peck on the cheek as I step inside. “You look lovely. Here, let me take your coat.”
He hangs it for me while I tug my boots off and set them neatly underneath the coat rack in his hallway. I’m suddenly struck by a feeling that it’s bizarre to have a dinner date at someone’s house in just your socks and no shoes. It almost feels too personal. Perhaps I should have brought my slippers like when I go home to my mum and dad’s house.
No, as strange as it is to be walking through his home in socks, it probably would be weirder to have turned up with my own slippers. What kind of message does that send? Hi, I’m moving in!
I need to stop overthinking this.I don’t even know if this is actually a date, but I’ve been a bundle of anxious energy today. Hattie left before breakfast to go for a run, and Megan left straight after she’d finished eating. I’d hoped to spend the day reading and relaxing before tonight, but I couldn’t concentrate at all. After reading the same page three times, I decided to sort out my bookcases which meant pulling everything off the shelves, cleaning and reorganising.
Halfway through I felt exhausted and took a little nap but made the error of getting under my covers which turned a short nap into a proper sleep. I woke up around 4pm and wanted to punch myself when reality hit. I still needed to finish re-shelving all the books I’d painstakingly removed earlier.
By the time I reorganised it, there wasn’t long to get ready to see Luke. To be honest, that was probably a good thing, or I’d have overdone it with the pampering and preening and turned up looking ridiculous. Instead, I had a quick shower and blow dried, then straightened my hair. I put a touch more make-up on than usual and tried on two dresses before changing into dark jeans, pairing them with a loose fitting white t-shirt that I’ve tucked in at one side. I’m glad I opted for casual because he’s done the same; dark jeans, a white t-shirt, and a checked shirt unbuttoned at the front.We look so good together.
Luke and I haven’t texted as much this week, but when we have, it’s been fun and playful. I’m like a perky little puppy every time I see a notification from him, but I still don’t know what tonight means to him.
Even though I downplayed this dinner to Hattie and Megan, I am thinking of it as a date. I haven’t had sex in almost a year, which I’ve been fine with, but I’m no nun. It is a bit of an injustice. Not that there’ll be sex on the agenda tonight. I’m here to make a good impression and talk about the book club and that’s it. Or is it?Gah! I don’t know!My stomach is churning. It’s exciting, I just wish I knew what he is thinking about tonight. About me. About us.
“I brought you a present,” I say, handing him my gift, which he unwraps immediately.
“Thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s the firstIce Kingsbook. If you like it, you can borrow the rest from me.”
“Hmmm, Ice Kings,” he says, his mouth pressed into a tight pout. “Viking romance?”
“Ice Hockey,” I laugh, though to be fair, the semi naked man with the beard and flowing locks on the cover doesn’t give it away.
I follow Luke along his hallway and through to the kitchen, where I try not to look too obvious about checking out his place. This room is gorgeous. Generously extended into the garden with a huge skylight, I already know it must be stunning in full daylight. The kitchen cooker, sink, and cabinets line one wall, a big central island houses more cupboards and drawers, and I can see he’s been prepping ahead of our meal. Over to my left is his large dining table, then further through the space there is a huge open living area, with a grey corner sofa positioned perfectly to watch the setting sun.
“Would you like something to drink? I’ve got wine, beer, soft drinks, tea, coffee... water?”
