The Crazy Girl's Handbook Page 11

  Chapter Ten

  A gentle buzzing woke me from a dream I would have been happy to have spent the entire day in. Still half asleep, but thoroughly annoyed at being woken, I tried to reach for my phone. I might have gotten to it if my arm hadn’t been stuck. I tugged again, confused, thinking I’d somehow gotten tangled in the blankets more than usual. I started rolling to wriggle my arm free. The restraining force turned out not to be a blanket, but Roman’s arm.

  That was about the time I realized not everything I’d been reliving all night had been a dream. It was so tempting to forget about my phone and relax back into his arms. My sister’s face blinking at me from the still ringing phone drew a sigh. Gingerly, I extracted my arm from beneath Roman’s and reached for the phone.

  I slid my finger across the screen—noticing my battery was running on “E”—and whispered a quick hello without thinking.

  “Greenly? Why are you whispering?” Lydia demanded.

  Her voice coming through the speaker was so loud, even Roman heard it. He startled and pulled back, but found himself as equally stuck as I had been. “Greenly?” he questioned. His eyes were still half closed, and honestly, I had to assume he wasn’t fully conscious, because rather than scooting away from me, he went back to spooning me and mumbled, “Everything okay?”

  “Greenly Anastasia Kendrick!” Lydia shrieked. “Please tell me you did not sleep with Roman last night!”

  Roman may not have been fully awake a few seconds ago, but he certainly was now. Pulling back, he froze for a moment, blinked, came up onto his elbow, and stared at the phone in my hand. A look of realization crept across his face and he laid back down, one hand covering his face.

  “No,” I said to my sister. I had the strangest urge to start laughing. “Well, I mean, yes, in the technical sense of the word. I did stay over, with the boys, because Evan got sick and Roman didn’t have a guest room, but we didn’t, you know, have sex, or anything. Seriously, Lydia, I just met the guy.”

  Now Roman was laughing. His laughter was shaking my whole body and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. Lydia was silent as we both chuckled at each other and the situation. Roman was the first to sober up. Leaning forward, he brushed my wild hair back from my face and said, “I’m going to go check on the boys and start breakfast. Are pancakes okay?”

  I nodded, trying not to sigh when he pulled away and slipped out of bed. I only had about half a second to miss him before Lydia was ranting in my ear again. “Was there not a couch you could have slept on? What kind of message is this sending the boys, Sammy especially! This is not what I had in mind when I said I wanted you to give him a chance, Greenly! I can’t believe you would do this. I never once thought…”

  “What, that Roman would ask me to stay over? Or be so interested in me? Or maybe you just didn’t think I’d do anything without asking your permission or advice? I am a grown adult, Lydia.” I was on the way to getting really irritated with her, but I tried very hard to reel in my frustration at her judgement. “You’re the one who pushed me toward him. Why are you being so judgmental about this? We didn’t have sex. I don’t see how this will affect the boys in any way and I resent the insinuation that I’m being a bad influence, or whatever it is you’re accusing me of being.”

  Lydia huffed, and I knew she was doing her “Mom” head shake, a condescending little movement that said the person she was talking to was either too stupid or too young to possibly understand. I knew which one applied to me. “Roman is very protective of Sammy, particularly when it comes to women. You staying over like that might make Sammy think this will continue. He knows Jen has all but abandoned him. Giving him hope that you…”

  “Are you kidding me?” I asked slowly, the words squeezing past my clenched teeth.

  “I just don’t think you understand…”

  I cut her off before she could insult me further. “For one, Roman and I already talked about all of this, the uncertainty of a relationship and Sammy included. Secondly, you know me. Why on earth would you think I’d do something like that to Sammy or Roman? That’s not the kind of person I am and I can’t believe you would say something like that to me.”

  It took a lot to leave Lydia speechless. When she didn’t respond, I actually had to check my phone to make sure I hadn’t accidentally hung up on her. Finding the line still active, I put the phone back to my ear and waited.

  “Greenly, I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to attack you like that. It’s just…I…I don’t understand.”

  “Understand what?” I snapped.

  “Why the one-eighty? I’ve spent the last four years trying to set you up and get you to consider getting out of your comfort zone when it came to relationships, or lack thereof.” She huffed again, not liking that things weren’t going exactly as planned. “Why Roman? Why so suddenly?”

  Frustrated and needing to move to keep myself from saying something ugly, I forced myself out of bed and started pulling on my jeans. “Why Roman?” I asked her as I buttoned my jeans. “Do you really have to ask me that? You’re the one was who shoving me at him. He’s amazing, okay? Isn’t that enough of a reason?”

  “For you? No,” Lydia said adamantly. “I want a real answer and I’m not hanging up until I get it.”

  I could always hang up on her…. Instead of taking the catty way out, I sighed again. “I don’t know if I can even explain it, Lydia. As chaotic as yesterday was, he stuck by me through all of it. I’ve never met anyone willing to do that.”

  “I’ve stuck by you much longer,” she said.

  “Sisters don’t count. It’s required.” I smiled, knowing she would stick by me till the end, even when she was ready to strangle me. “You know me better than anyone. You know I struggle, often, with a lot of different things. Outside of family, I’ve never really believed there was someone out there willing to put up with me, no…beyond that, someone who would actually accept me, quirks and all. I know one day with Roman doesn’t prove he’ll last more than just that one day, but there’s something about him that gives me hope. I don’t think he’s the kind of guy that loves a person without real commitment, and I’m not either.”

  It took Lydia a moment to respond. “Love…Greenly…”

  “I’m not saying I’m in love with him,” I said with a sigh. A silent yet echoed in my thoughts, but I wasn’t about to voice that right now. “I’m just saying that I trust Roman enough to consider the possibility, and I think he trusts me as well. It’s a starting point, okay? Not a marriage proposal.”

  Lydia made a tsking sound usually reserved for her boys. “Well, at the rate you two are moving, I can’t say I’d be surprised by something like that at this point.”

  Having had enough of her judgment for one morning, I said, “I’m hanging up now, and Evan is fine, by the way. Since you forgot to ask about him. Have a safe drive home.”

  I ended the call and tossed the phone on the bed. Halfway to stabbing my hands through my hair in frustration, I turned to find Roman staring at me from the doorway looking contemplative. “So, you’re not in love with me yet, or you’re just not saying you’re in love with me right now.”

  I supposed I should have felt embarrassed again, but I found myself laughing instead. “Do you have a habit of eavesdropping on people’s conversations?”

  “Only when I’m half asleep and end up causing trouble, or when I need to know if you mind chocolate chips in your pancakes,” he said, grinning. “Sammy is insisting on chocolate chips over blueberries.”

  I was still wearing Roman’s t-shirt, but I did at least have pants on now. The mismatch went well with my mane of wild bed hair. Without a rubber band or Roman’s hat, the best I could do was tie my long hair into a knot behind my head. “This definitely feels like a chocolate chip pancakes kind of morning.”

  Roman chuckled, but there was concern hiding beneath it. “Did I cause trouble for you with Lydia?”

  “Not at all. She’s just havin
g a fit that we’re not proceeding according to her planned schedule.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s nothing.”

  He looked skeptical, but didn’t voice his doubts. He only said, “Well, I should have breakfast ready in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Do you need any help?” I asked.

  Smiling, Roman said, “I won’t turn it down. The boys tend to be more mess-makers than actual help.”

  I knew how true that was, having tried to make cookies with them more than once and ending up with an egg dropped on the floor or dough smeared across almost every counter. Hoping to avoid a repeat, I followed Roman to the kitchen and did my best to keep little hands busy on tasks that had a smaller chance of ending up a sticky disaster. Twenty minutes later, we were all sitting down to breakfast together.

  The boys chewed with their mouths open and dropped half of every forkful on the table, and there were drips of syrup in more than one location, but they loved Roman’s pancakes just as much as I did. “These are really good.”

  “Thanks,” Roman said. He looked like he was going to elaborate, but Sammy beat him to it.

  “Gramma taught my dad how to cook after my mom left. Gramma’s a really good cook. We go to her house for dinner every other Sunday. You should come with us next time.” He shoved another too-big bite of pancake into his mouth as he nodded.

  Roman shook his head at Sammy’s boldness. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell the words had put him on edge a little. Turning back to my own meal, I concentrated on each bite. The boys finished first, of course, and before they could run off I asked Evan and Colby to gather their things and put them by the front door. My request was greeted by whining, but they did as they were asked.

  “We don’t have anything going on today…” Roman said slowly.

  The invitation to stay and hang out was clear—and tempting—but I shook my head. “I would really like to go back to Lydia’s and take a shower. I’ve lost track of how many gross things are on my body right now.”

  Roman grinned. “Oh yeah. Forgot about all that.”

  I honestly didn’t know how he could. I was dying for a shower and clean clothes by that point. Swallowing my last bite of pancake, I pushed my plate back. Roman eyed it. His expression was difficult to read, but I had a suspicion he was contemplating ways to talk me in to staying. Before he could come up with anything, a knock sounded on the front door.

  Roman’s brow immediately wrinkled. I took that to mean he wasn’t expecting anyone at nine o’clock in the morning on a Sunday. Shrugging it off, he stood with a quick mention to me that he’d be right back. For some reason, I felt the need to follow him, but I ignored that and instead got up to start corralling the boys.

  I was reaching for a blanket on the floor when Roman opened the door and I heard him say, “Jen, what are you doing here?”

  Sammy’s head popped up from where he was trying to fish an errant shoe out from under the couch. He stood slowly. His gaze went to me first, then toward the front door. It struck me that he didn’t seem at all excited to see his mother. Instantly protective of him, I said, “Hey, Sammy, will you help me fold up this blanket real fast?”

  His eyes widened and he nodded in relief. Having him help turned a simple folding job into a wadded mess that I tossed on the couch. I turned to reach for a sleeping bag and found Sammy barely an inch away from me. “How come you’re wearing my dad’s shirt?” he asked quietly.

  “He let me borrow it,” I said, hoping for casual. “Like you let Evan borrow your pajamas after he threw up.”

  Sammy scooted a little closer. “Did you throw up, too?”

  It wasn’t exactly the reason Roman had loaned me the shirt but… “Yes, I did.”

  “Did you eat too much pizza like Evan?”

  “No.” I chuckled at his sound logic. “I’m not very good with bad smells. They make me get sick sometimes.”

  Sammy nodded. His gaze darted past me, then his head dropped and he stepped back from me. I wasn’t sure why until a syrupy sweet voice broke from behind me. “And who is this?”

  Turning slowly, I braced myself to face Roman’s ex-wife. When I did, it was a struggle not to let my jaw drop. She was perfect. Gorgeous dark waves cascaded over one shoulder. Even after having had a baby, her stomach was perfectly flat—noticeable thanks to the skin tight blouse she was wearing—and her dancer’s legs seemed to go on forever. I was fairly average height at five-foot-five. She looked down at me, both literally and figuratively, even in the flats she was wearing. She stood nearly even with Roman, which had to have put her at around five-foot-ten.

  “Greenly,” I managed to squeak.

  Jen’s nose twitched with distaste at my name. Yeah, I knew it was unconventional, but most people liked its quirkiness. Jen’s gaze swept over the mess in the living room and the two additional little boys running around before her gaze landed back on me. “Do these,” she gestured dismissively at Evan and Colby, “belong to you then?”

  “Yes, I mean no. They’re my nephews, not my children. I’m Lydia’s sister.”

  Squinting like she was pondering whether or not that name should mean something to her, Jen clearly didn’t care enough to think on it too long and moved on. “Well, it looks like the sleepover, or whatever it was, is wrapping up.” She glanced over at Roman questioningly. It was clear she wanted the sleepover cleaned up and done as soon as possible. She certainly seemed to expect everyone else to do as she wished, too.

  Roman sighed, his eyes narrowing by the slightest degree. “No need to rush everyone, Jen.” His tone said patient, but his body language was anything but. “If you had bothered to call before showing up here unannounced, maybe we could have arranged a better time.”

  “Arrange time to see my own son?” Jen turned her nose up at her ex-husband. “Really, Roman, don’t be so ridiculous.” Only then did she seem to remember the reason she had come in the first place. “Sammy, baby, aren’t you going to come see Mommy?”

  I couldn’t help sneering at the term Mommy. Evan still called Lydia Mommy, but Colby hadn’t for quite some time. I wondered when Jen had last seen her son.

  Slow to answer, Sammy hid behind me for a few seconds before slipping out from behind my legs to face her. “Hi, Mom.” That was it. No hug. No excitement or happiness to see her. Just a compulsory greeting.

  My stomach twisted. I knew what it felt like to lose a parent at a young age. It was gut-wrenching and life changing. Death had a knack for throwing everything you thought you knew about yourself into the wind and letting the pieces scatter where they would, no concern for whether or not you could put them all back together in the end. Jen clearly hadn’t died, but Sammy had lost her all the same. Except now he was forced to face her ghost unexpectedly, and he seemed to have no idea how to handle the situation. Neither did I.

  Luckily, Jen seemed to have already lost interest in him and had turned back to Roman in order to critique his upkeep of the house she still casually referred to as theirs. I couldn’t tell if she was really just that oblivious to how her words affected people, or if she was doing it intentionally to needle Roman, and probably make some kind of point for me. Deciding I was less likely to do something I’d regret if I stayed busy, I turned my attention back to the boys and continued the cleanup effort.

  We had just gotten the last of the sleeping bags rolled up and set aside when Sammy appeared next to me. “Can I come play at Colby’s house for a while?”

  Casting a sideways glance in Jen’s direction, I sighed. “I think that might hurt your mom’s feelings.”

  Honestly, I didn’t know if she’d even notice. Chances were, she would, because she’d certainly want to stake her claim and prove to me that I was no comparison to her. Like I needed her to point that out. Sammy frowned, an expected sort of disappointment creeping onto his features. “I guess.”

  “Maybe you can come over later, after she leaves,” I said quietly.

  His head shook back and
forth slowly. “She usually stays for a while when she shows up. To remind my dad.”

  “Remind him of what?” I asked.

  Sammy shrugged. “I dunno. Dad said that last time she came by like this.”

  “When was that?”

  Dark eyebrows bunched together as he tried to remember. “Before I went to kindergarten.”

  Given that Sammy and Colby were both at the tail end of first grade, that meant he hadn’t seen her in nearly two years. That was a lifetime to a seven-year-old. No wonder he acted like she was little more than a stranger to him.

  “Does she ever call you when she’s away?”

  Sammy shook his head. “Sometimes she sends presents.”

  When my eyes narrowed again, I found my gaze fixating on Roman instead. “And your dad just lets her show up whenever she wants?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know where she’ll sleep this time. Dad turned the extra room into his office so he can be home with me after school more often.” Sammy shrugged, because things like that weren’t what little boys should be concerned with.

  I, on the other hand, felt sick. The exact same situation had led to me sharing Roman’s bed last night. I didn’t even want to consider the same would prove true for Jen, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t shared a bed before, right? I was a near stranger. She was his ex-wife, who despite her spot-on rendition of a frigid ice queen, he allowed to show up announced and walk around like she still partially owned the place.

  “If your dad’s okay with it, you can come play whenever you want,” I said to Sammy. Then I stood, because I really needed to get out of this house. I felt cowardly as I grabbed the boys and started ushering them to the front door. Panic may have set my feet moving a little faster when Roman broke off a terse conversation with Jen to rush over to me.

  “Hey, I’m sorry about this,” Roman said in a low voice, like he was afraid of Jen hearing him. Was he? “I’ll call you later about this weekend, okay? I just need to deal with Jen first. She usually has a reason for showing up like this.”

  Could that reason possibly be that she wanted to mark her territory. I nodded, because I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I wasn’t sure I could have gotten any words out anyway. My throat felt like it was closing up. Pushing the boys out the door, I don’t think I really breathed until we were back across the street. That was about when I realized I’d left my shirt at his house.