Leather Bound. Shanna Germain
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Lily nodded, tracing the outline of the book she had tattooed on her forearm, the way she often did when she was thinking. It was one of her first tattoos, and was lightly faded, looking more like a natural part of her skin than a hand-drawn piece of art. Kyle had offered a couple of times to redo it for her, give it some more life, but she’d declined, saying it was a reminder to her. I didn’t know of what.
‘You know, I feel like I recognise him from somewhere,’ she said. ‘But I have no idea why. Or where.’
I waited to see if she had more. Like I said, Lily’s fantastic with faces. If you give her a couple of minutes, she’ll usually come up with the connection.
When nothing else came, I said, ‘If he was really looking for something, which I doubt, it wasn’t something I could have found. It was the right thing, turning him down.’
‘I trust you,’ she said. In a way that said she actually did trust me. Which I was grateful for, and was feeling like I didn’t really deserve. ‘Now, why did your face do that funny thing when I asked about Kyle?’
‘What funny thing?’
She made a face, scrunching her expression up so that it was all soured. ‘This funny face,’ she said, which came out as dish funny fashe.
‘I don’t ever look like that,’ I said.
‘I let you segue me with the disaster card bit,’ she said. ‘That was my one freebie. You’re not getting out of this one.’
Have I mentioned that Lily and I have known each other a long time? And once Lily had something in her craw, she didn’t let go of it very easily.
Caught under her stare, I relented. ‘Kyle and I are –’ I started, and then didn’t know how to finish.
What? Engaged? Unengaged? Not at all engaged? About to break up? That last one felt the most true right now. But I was afraid to voice it out loud, lest it become true when I didn’t want it to.
Lily didn’t ask what, but she’d dropped her feet to the floor, and was sitting straight up, watching me like a cat watches prey. Which meant I was pretty much the prey. For at least the second time this morning.
It was turning out to be that kind of day.
‘Kyle asked me to marry him,’ I spit out.
‘Whoa, wait. Back up, please. When did I miss this? And how? I thought you were just, you know …’ She made the universal sign for fucking with her fingers. Leave it to Lily to offset her perfect appearance with the regular use of vulgarity.
I told her the story, the down and dirty version, leaving out this morning’s laughter-filled sex, since she’d clearly already figured that part out when I walked in the door.
‘He asked me as I was leaving for work this morning.’
‘As you were leaving?’
I nodded.
‘That doesn’t bode well for anything,’ she said. ‘And you said…?’
‘I didn’t. I came here.’
‘Oy vey,’ she said. Lily’s Jewish upbringing comes out at the oddest times, considering that most of the time she’s the least Jewish person I’ve ever met. But this time I had to agree with her.
‘Yeah,’ I said.
We sat in silence for a moment. I refused to look at her legs. Or at her face. Or at the half-curve of a smile that I was sure was resting at the corner of her red-painted lips.
‘Did we have any other customers?’ I asked. While I was in here – what had she said? – puddling like warm chocolate.
Lily snorted softly. ‘It was someone actually looking for the sex toy store. Can you believe it?’
‘Today?’ I said. ‘Today, I can believe almost anything.’
* * *
Thankfully, we were busy the rest of the day. But even with customers and orders to keep my mind occupied, I felt antsy and restless.
Kyle. Marriage. Davian. Lust. A sex club. Mysterious non-existent books. All of these unanswered mysteries were eating at my brain.
All day, my fingers beat an odd rhythm across book covers when I checked people out. I found myself shifting from one foot to the other for no reason.
An hour or so before closing time, I actually snapped my gum so loudly I startled myself. Thankfully the store was empty of customers at that point, but it was the last straw; I’d broken myself of gum snapping when I was nineteen. I had to find something to do before I made myself crazy.
I came storming out from one of the aisles where I’d been trying to organise books. Lil was behind the counter, drawing something. It’s what she did when she got bored. Mostly she drew her own tattoos. Sometimes tats for other people. Sometimes she drew Webster stalking dust motes or secret caricatures of our regular customers.
I keep telling her she could make a good career of it, but she keeps telling me that she has a good career. Which, of course, is exactly what I want to hear. She’s smart like that.
‘Why don’t you knock off early?’ Lily asked, watching with a raised brow as I tried to throw my gum into the garbage while it was still stuck to my fingers.
‘Because, because, because …’ Of all the wonderful things he does, my mind finished, stupidly. A string of quiet swear words followed while I finally managed to get the gum into the garbage can.
‘Go take care of –’ she waved her drawing pencil through the air, not being dismissive, but generally telling me she understood there was far too much going on for it to be summed up in a few short sentences ‘– things.’
‘I’m OK,’ I said. ‘I just need something to do. Maybe I’ll change the window display.’
‘We just did the display,’ she said. It was true. Our front window was big enough to set up a whole scene in. It was one of the things I loved best about the place. We changed the decor for each new season, and we’d just done the fall version of a reading room, adding a couple of chairs, a fake fireplace and a big maroon cushion for Webster to curl up on.
No display then.
‘Maybe Webster needs his nails trimmed,’ I ventured.
We both glanced at Webster, who’d forsaken his big cushion for one of the chairs, where he snoozed, stretched out, his belly to the sky. Clearly, he didn’t need my help either.
‘Go do something,’ Lily said. ‘I’ve got nothing, and I mean nothing, going on outside this place right now. Besides, I like to have you in my debt.’
‘But –’ I started.
And then I stood there, uncertain what else I wanted to say.
The truth was I didn’t want to be here, because I kept thinking about Davian with an urgency that scared me. Every time his face flashed in my brain, I got wet. Every time I saw his hands touching his briefcase, or my desk, or the tickets, my lizard brain, the part of me that was all sex all the time, woke up, aching for something I couldn’t name.
I didn’t want to go home because I’d think about Kyle. Kyle, and his proposal. And then I’d have to think about what was wrong with me that I didn’t just say yes to this smart, funny, gorgeous, talented guy who wanted to spend his life with me. Wasn’t that what every girl dreamed of?
I definitely didn’t want to go to Kyle’s, because I wouldn’t just think about Kyle there; I’d actually have to talk to him. And probably come up with some answers that I didn’t want to give.
The only other places I ever went – did I mention I was an introvert? – were Cream, the coffee shop that our friend Stefan owned, and Cock’s Tail, the bar that our friend Jay owned. Both of those places offered comfort,