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Wes
*Not Going Down That Road*
I turn off the stereo and pour my unfinished coffee into the kitchen sink. I started drinking Scotch and listening to all of my old Stones records as soon as I got home last night, playing “Beast of Burden” more times than I’d care to admit. It has been the unofficial theme song whenever I’ve allowed myself to dwell on thoughts of Lily in private, and I haven’t listened to it in years. I won’t be listening to it again for a year, but fuck—I can’t get enough of that song. I’m not sure what it will take to put me out of my misery, but whatever it is, it’s not going to happen on a Tuesday at the office.
I pick up my laptop briefcase and open the back door to call Fanny Brice to come inside. She’s sitting right there, three feet from the door, staring up at me. It’s unlike her. I usually have to go out to my fenced-in backyard to get her, but she’s been acting so weird since yesterday. She definitely senses that something is up. She could probably smell Lily on me when I got back from work yesterday, or maybe she can hear her sultry voice echoing around inside my head.
I bend down to scratch Fanny behind her ear. “Hey, girl. You don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want to.” She slow-blinks at me and then darts inside. I was half-expecting Lily to show up at my doorstep last night, to demand I give her cat back to her.
I don’t know exactly what the rules are in rescued pet ownership. It was around eight years ago that we found her, the day of Calla Barnes’s funeral. Lily couldn’t handle being at the house for the reception afterwards. Her best friend was home sick and couldn’t make it to the service, her father couldn’t seem to handle speaking to—or even looking at—her, so she ran out. I grabbed some food from the kitchen and ran after her. Drove her to the lake, and we had a little picnic in my truck. That was before we’d ever kissed, before things got complicated, before she’d made her private decision to leave Belford.
It was a sad day, but it’s one of my favorite memories. She’d been holding it together for months, once she finally found out that her mother had cancer, and she finally just let loose. Right there in the passenger seat of my pickup. All the anger and sorrow and confusion. It was Lily Barnes, unplugged. That’s how I know what lives there, beneath that sleek, cool surface. I just let her say and do everything, anything she needed to say and do, even when she needed to yell at me and punch my bicep. When she finally calmed down, her eyes all pink and swollen, she was quiet for ages, and then she just thanked me and said she needed to get some air. It had started raining lightly and it was so cold, but I got out to walk with her. That’s when I heard the meowing from under a shrub.
That little peach-colored kitten was small enough to sit in the palm of my hand, but she had so much spunk and energy, she didn’t stay still there for long. We looked around the area for its mother or any other kittens for half an hour, but Lily felt sure that this girl had been abandoned and that we needed to take her home. Or rather, thatsheneeded to take her home. I was fine with that. I knew that I’d be leaving for college in a couple of years anyway, and Lily was so happy to have something to take care of. She was doubtful that her father would want a cat in the house, but she also knew that he was unlikely to deny her this one thing, on the day of her mother’s funeral. She was right on both counts.
So she looked after Fanny for about three years, and my dad and I have had her for five. If Lily still thinks of Fanny Brice as her cat, then I guess she’s her cat. I leave out a little extra food and a few little cat treats before walking out the front door to my car.
I don’t know what it is that makes a person understand that another living thing is theirs to have, but I do know the feeling. And I know that you need to wait for that thing to come to you and decide that it’s yours. But I also realize that at some point you need to go after what you want. And I know that I will. I’ve just never known exactly when. Sometimes I wish I could be less rational and more irresponsible, but then I wouldn’t be my father’s son or the proud owner of a business degree.
I get to the office about fifteen minutes later than usual because I had to stop by a florist’s shop on the way to get a flower arrangement for Kate. Normally I’d have gone by my dad’s place to take cuttings from the Barnes garden because my dad and Vicky can’t keep up with all of the blooms. But I didn’t. For obvious reasons. Or one obvious reason, anyway.
I fully expect that obvious reason to show up later than I want her to, in some outfit that’s sexier than it should be, with an attitude that is frustrating, inappropriate, and a total turn-on for me. But when I get to my outer office, I see both Kate and Lily behind the desk. Kate is pointing at something on the computer monitor, and Lily is studying the monitor carefully, the expression on her face much more serious than the one I’m used to seeing.
“Good morning, ladies,” I say.
Kate finishes whatever little lesson she’s giving Lily before looking up to greet me. “Those better be for me,” she deadpans.
“Yes,” I assure her. “They’re definitely for you. Don’t get up.”
“Oh, I won’t,” she says. She’s widening her eyes and giving me a meaningful look that I don’t get the meaning of, but I know it has something to do with Lily.
I place the vase on the desk in front of Kate. “I’ll help you take your stuff to your car when the time comes, don’t worry.”
“Oh, don’t say that,” Kate sniffles. “I’m gonna cry.”
I glance over at Lily, who has not looked up at me since I came in. She stares at the flowers, looking like she wants to cry too. She’s wearing a silky blouse that’s buttoned all the way up, the way she had to wear shirts at St. Mary’s. Understated and elegant. And yet, it still just makes me want to rip it off her.
“Your nine thirty conference call is confirmed,” Kate says.
Lily finally snaps out of it and looks up at me, nodding. “Can I get you anything?”
I am so stunned by this question, from this person, that I just stare at her blankly.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ then,” she mutters.
I blink and shake my head. “Sorry. Wasn’t expecting that. I’m good for now, thanks. Are you? Good?”
Lily nods. “Fine, good, yeah. Kate’s just started showing me how this ARGUS enterprise software works.”
“She’s no dummy,” Kate says, giving me that same look that I still do not understand. “I think you’re stuck with her.”
No shit.
Lily meets my gaze for one hot second before we both look away.
“Let’s just try to make it through today first,” I grumble as I head into my office.
“Actually…” I hear Lily say as I’m shutting the door. She clears her throat. I pause in the doorway, and she hops right on up and pushes past me. “I have a question for you,” she declares.
