Maybe Maby

  He laughs and the nerves seem to fade with it. He sits next to me on the couch and we take bites from opposite ends of the cake. My eyes roll back. The frosting is perfect and the cake is delicious.

  “Where did you get this?” I ask with my mouth full.

  “My mom sent some back with me. So … how did it go with Jade and M—”

  “Your mom made this? Why didn’t you tell me she baked like this? I totally would have gone this weekend.”

  Coen chokes on his bite, laughing, and I venture to his side of the cake while he’s distracted.

  “Oh my God, this is the best cake I’ve ever tasted. Seriously. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. This has to go in your coffee shop one day.” I point wildly at the cake with my fork and sneak another bite from his side.

  He grins and holds the container while I keep moaning.

  “So … Jade and Melissa?” He tries again. His Adam’s apple goes up and down slowly as he waits for my answer.

  “Why are you so nervous?”

  “I’m not, I just—”

  “You totally are. What are you hiding, Coen Brady?”

  “I just didn’t want them to wreck my chances with you,” he spits out quickly.

  “What? Why do you think that?”

  “Because they know how … crazy I am about you,” he says. His lips move up in an embarrassed smile. “I mean—I know you know it, but I thought they might just dig it into the ground.”

  He hasn’t taken any more bites and I’m not bothering to remind him. Until the guilt kicks in. I pick up his fork and offer him a bite. He shakes his head. He doesn’t have to tell me twice—I finish the cake. Once I’ve settled back on the couch in a sugar-induced high, I study him out of the corner of my eye.

  “You’re crazy about me, huh?”

  He props an elbow on the back of the couch and stares at me. “Don’t act like this is news to you.”

  “What would I have to do to make you not crazy about me?”

  “What?” His eyebrows crease in the middle.

  “What am I gonna do that will send you running like everyone else?” I turn to fully look at him. “Because I know I’ll do something…”

  “The only thing I can think of is if you don’t want me.” He rests his hand on the side of my neck and rubs my cheek with his thumb.

  “I’m getting ready to do something pretty evil,” I tell him.

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss me.

  I forget everything I’ve plotted throughout the day, and only think about how I want to get lost in his sweetness. He makes me believe I can be good. Or at the very least, that my ugly is really not so ugly at all.

  COEN AND I kiss for a long time on the couch. He pulls me on his lap but he’s still being less handsy than before and it’s driving me mad. I want with every hormone in my body to ask him to stay the night when he whispers that he should go.

  “Really? Now?” I whisper back.

  His pupils look gigantic as he leans in to kiss me again, his tongue teasing my mouth back open. I shiver as his hands slide up my legs, grip my panties, and then he stands up, still holding me, and sets me back down on the couch.

  “What … are you doing? Don’t go.”

  “I … I have to.”

  “Why?” I cover all the skin that’s showing and look up at him.

  “I’ve … made a promise to myself,” he says quietly.

  “What is it?”

  He puts a hand on his forehead and drags it back to the top of his head. “I’ll tell you later.” He leans down and then thinks better of it. “Your lips are like a drug. I’ve gotta get out of here.”

  He gives me a wild-eyed grin and is gone before I can blink.

  OVER THE NEXT few days I call everyone on my favorite vendors’ list and get an unbelievable response. After a run of three days in a row of being so elated, I’m tempted to forgo my medication and just ride this high. I don’t, but I’m tempted. As a backup plan, I’ve contacted a real estate agent and have an appointment with the bank this afternoon to see about a business loan.

  I’ve taken over the back table at La Colombe and shoot Coen flirty eyes every time I see him looking my way, which is a lot.

  “What are you up to?” he asks, turning a chair around and sitting in it backwards.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve never seen you look so … what are you up to?” He leans across the table and kisses me.

  I hold up my hand. “I can’t think when you do that.”

  He kisses me again and sits back in his seat, grinning. “Talk to me.”

  “Well, I did warn you I was gonna do something evil,” I say cockily.

  “Okay, now you really have to tell me.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “This may be our make or break test.”

  He groans. “Would you quit with that? Half the time I can’t even tell if you really like me, and yet, you’re always finding a way to get out of this.” He points between the two of us. “Is this really your way of saying you want me?” He licks his lips and I watch, transfixed.

  Shaking my head, I crinkle my face up. “Shut it. That’s not even … shush.” I can’t help smiling though. I lean in and whisper, “Wanting you has never been in question.”

  Coen laughs. “You are so confusing.” He leans over and kisses my cheek.

  “Thank you. Now wish me luck. Anna is going down in … oh, it’s probably already started.”

  “Wait, start over.”

  I look at my watch. “Sorry!” I put everything in my bag and stand up. “I’ve gotta run.”

  “Where are you going? Hey, come home with me this weekend? Tomorrow night?”

  I pause and look him over. “Uh. Maybe. Ask me tomorrow?”

  His face falls a little, but he recovers quickly, holding his hand up in his customary wave. “Tomorrow. Bye, Maby. Good luck with your evil plan.”

  Saul: Are you mad at me?

  Yes.

  The phone rings just as I’m getting ready to walk into the bank. I turn it off and go inside. I’ve done my homework and know what they want to see from me. I’ve made a thorough business plan and spreadsheets of my projected rate of growth for the next year. My folder is at least an inch thick with all of it—my tax returns and credit report included. Justin, the loan officer, looks over everything thoroughly and we talk for almost an hour going through the file.

  As we’re closing the meeting, Justin tells me he’ll get back to me within ten business days to let me know if I’ve been approved. I think I’ll die waiting that long, but I smile and thank him for his time. I’m still hoping I won’t need a business loan, but it’s best to have everything covered, just in case.

  THE CALLS START at exactly 9:05 AM the next morning, just as I thought they would. I let it go to voicemail. The next one is at 9:35, and approximately every half hour until the last one at 4:05 PM.

  Fifteen Missed Calls: Anna

  Between her irate voicemails that I ignore, I’m getting calls from the nine companies that have pulled out of Whatnot Alley. In their own way, all nine companies informed Anna that upon hearing of my firing, they were free to pull out of any and all future agreements since I was the one who secured their business in the first place. Not just any nine, but the top nine that Anna has used to fill Whatnot Alley. Actually—scratch that—the nine that I found to fill Whatnot Alley. They all signed contracts with me at 8 AM this morning stating they will give me exclusivity of their new merchandise for the next year. Not only are they out of the Soho location, but six of the companies have said they’ll pull out of the current location once their product has sold, citing the inability to work with Anna.

  The only catch is I have promised I will open my new store in two months, so there’s no lag time in their business. I hope I can pull this off.

  I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. I wasn’t just spouting out nonsense to Anna, it’s the truth: she can’t run
the shops without me. I’ve helped make these nine companies successful too—most were just starting out when I discovered them, and the others needed the boost that Whatnot Alley gave them. As long as I can continue selling their products without any lull for them, they’ll be on board with whatever direction I take.

  Any guilt I feel is squashed by the elation that I feel at finally giving Anna a dose of her own medicine.

  THE LAST MESSAGE from Anna is: “Mabel? Can we talk? I’m ready to have a conversation with you about the Soho location.”

  I don’t return her call. I still need time to think about what to do.

  There’s one text that I finally answer…

  Coen: How about it? Pick you up at 6?

  Yes.

  I throw a few sundresses, cardigans, and pajamas in an overnight bag and remember my makeup bag at the last minute. I don’t really know what to take to a guy’s parents’ house. I’ve never done this. Dalton’s parents rarely came through town and he never took me for a visit. That should have been a huge clue about our relationship. It does feel a bit early to be going to Coen’s, though. Maybe this is just what friends do. I wouldn’t know much about that either.

  I have a few minutes to spare and call Paschal. He must be with a client; it goes to his voicemail.

  “Hey, it’s Maby. Wish me luck—I’m going to Coen’s parents’ for the weekend! EEK! I’ll call you when I get back. Has it only been a week since I’ve seen you? Feels like forever.”

  My door buzzes at 5:55.

  “You’re early.” I tease him.

  “What? Hey, you’re home.”

  “Saul? I’m on my way out.”

  “Come on, Maby, you can’t avoid me forever. We had sex, it doesn’t have to change everything.”

  “That’s not what—”

  I hear another voice and my stomach drops.

  “Hey, man.” I hear Saul say.

  I buzz them up and put my head through my knees to prepare for whatever is coming.

  COEN LOOKS WHITE, despite the fact that he’s just walked three flights of stairs. Saul looks smug. I’m fairly certain I look ill.

  “Come in.” I hold the door wide. “This is just … too much. Twice?”

  I point at Saul. “You … quit dropping by without calling first.” I look at Coen. “I’m sorry this keeps happening.”

  Coen swallows and starts to say something when Saul interrupts.

  “What happened, Maby? We know now that we’re great together.” He lifts his eyebrows when he says ‘great’ and puts his hand on mine. “Why are you getting second thoughts now? We can finally be together.”

  I sit down and look up at both of them. Saul, who has been my rock and my fun-loving partner in crime, and Coen, who makes me laugh and lights me up from the inside out. Saul, with his smiling eyes that melt me, and Coen, with his open heart that makes me hope in things I didn’t believe I could. Saul, who doesn’t seem to know he wants me until someone else does, and Coen, who has just wanted me, period.

  My long exhale seems to echo in my apartment. I clear my throat. They both stare down at me, waiting.

  “I’m sorry, Saul. If Coen will still have me this weekend, I’m gonna go meet his family. If you still want to talk, let’s talk on Monday.”

  Saul’s hands flex and his veins pop out. “This is stupid. I’m tired of waiting for you to see what’s right in front of you.” He steps closer to me and his face looks flush.

  “I think that’s just it, Saul. I think I finally am.”

  He looks like I’ve hit him and turns around, stalking out of the room. The door rattles as it slams.

  COEN STARES AT me for a long time without saying anything. I can’t tell if he’s mad or sad, conflicted or done. I’m distracted by those brown eyes that look at me like I’m something, even when I don’t know what that something is.

  “Is it a mistake to take you home with me, Maby?” His lower lip is slightly bigger than his top lip and I can’t stop looking at it. “Is it?” he repeats.

  “Uh-I can’t answer that, Coen.”

  “What do you feel when you’re with me?” he asks.

  “Light,” I answer without hesitation.

  “Light,” he echoes.

  He runs his hands through his hair and stretches both arms to the ceiling. When he looks back at me, one fist is at his mouth and the other is still on his head. It’s silent, except for the traffic outside. And the clock, tick-tick-ticking.

  Finally, he looks around, sees my bag and picks it up.

  “If we go now, we’ll still make it for a late dinner.”

  My stomach growls in response.

  “Sounds like we better hurry,” he says quietly.

  I smile up at him and he gives me a small smile in return. It’s then that I know I would do anything for Coen Brady. I only hope that I haven’t ruined everything before we even truly start.

  THE DRIVE IS very quiet. It’s not that it’s awkward or angry silence, but neither of us is able to fill the time with small talk. Coen seems to need to think some things through, and I don’t blame him. He’s in a SUV that I’ve never seen before, and it’s filled with terrariums of every size and shape. For a good part of the trip, I study all the ones I can see, still stunned that he is so skilled at something this unusual.

  An hour into our trip, he says, “We’re almost there.”

  “It’s beautiful out here.”

  He nods and points ahead. “My favorite view of the Hudson River.”

  Mountains stand like bookends on either side of the river. I didn’t know such a pretty place existed so close to my little world. I gasp when we keep driving into a picturesque town.

  “It’s right out of a storybook!”

  “Do you like it?” He looks at me.

  “What isn’t to love?” I stare at the cute little shops we’re driving past. I don’t see anything of Whatnot Alley caliber, but there are many places I’d love to explore.

  We drive just outside of the town and I see the sprawling nursery ahead. Flowers, of every color and variety. A beautiful yellow Victorian house with a wraparound porch sits far back on the property.

  “Is that your house?”

  He nods, pulling into the long driveway and going past the nursery, toward the house. When he stops, we both start to speak at the same time.

  “You go ahead,” he says.

  “I just wanted to thank you for bringing me here. And to apologize for what happened earlier with Saul.”

  I twist the hem of my short dress and wish I’d worn one of those sweaters I packed. My bare arms are suddenly chilled. I shiver and Coen puts his hand on my arm.

  “I probably shouldn’t have brought you here yet. It’s soon and … you’re still not sure about me … but … I’m glad you’re here, Maby. And I want to talk about Saul eventually, but can we please not this weekend?”

  I let out a long breath. “Yes. That sounds good to me.”

  He holds out his hand and I take it. He squeezes and then is out of the car before I blink. My car door opens and Jade pulls me out.

  “Hey, it’s a party!” she yells, hugging me.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d be here—yay!” I laugh. “Is Melissa here too?”

  “Not tonight, she might come tomorrow though.”

  Coen puts his arm around Jade and they look at me. Coen’s eyes gleam with mischief and I squeak out another nervous chuckle.

  “What do you think? Should we subject her to the torture?” Coen asks Jade.

  “Why do your eyes look so vicious right now?” I ask him.

  He opens them wide. “What? These eyes? Muahahahaaa—” He gives an evil laugh and Jade bops him over the head.

  The door swings open and two pretty people walk out. They come and stand on either side of Coen and Jade and I am faced with the perfect family.

  Coen’s mom reaches out for a hug first. “I’m Janie. So glad you could come,” she says.

  “Scott,” his dad says, giving me
a quick squeeze. “Welcome. You hungry?”

  “Starving!” I nod.

  “You are just as beautiful as they said,” Janie says as she leads the way into the house.

  “Oh … um, no, that’s…” I stutter.

  The four of them turn to look at me and then smile their sweet, beatific smiles. Good lord, what have I done? I am surrounded by four perfect people. At least to me they are, with their easy, happy … confidence. They’re all attractive, but more than that, they exude joy and that is fucking intimidating. I count the steps up the front porch, into the gorgeous living room, and back to the kitchen. The table is already set. Scott holds up a bottle of wine and a pitcher.

  “Maby? Wine or a margarita?” he asks.

  “Oh yes, thank you.”

  He laughs and pours out of the pitcher.

  I ask for the restroom and when I pull the door closed, I take a long look in the mirror. After washing my hands for a solid minute, I start talking to myself in the mirror.

  “Do NOT mess this up. Mabel Armstrong, get a grip. You might have a real chance at something wonderful here—please don’t screw it up!” I get tears in my eyes and look up at the ceiling, still scrubbing my hands.

  I hear a peal of laughter from the kitchen and jump. The water is scalding and my hands are scarlet, so I turn off the water and pat them dry.

  “Help me keep it together just this once, Mom,” I whisper. “Pull in whatever favors you have to.”

  I open the door and Coen is standing outside the door.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I nod. He holds out his hand and we walk into the kitchen together.

  “Sorry, we didn’t even give you a chance to freshen up,” Janie says.

  “It’s okay. Can I do anything to help?”

  “Oh no, it’s all ready. I hope you like enchiladas.”

  “Love them.” I grin at Coen.

  “If all else is a bust, you’ll at least get Mexican food out of the deal,” he whispers in my ear as he holds out a chair for me.