Faithful (37 page)

I watch Beth and Greer trying to clean the kitchen and organize food, astounded that they can keep up with the traffic of bodies in their way.

Two giggling little toddlers I saw earlier in the playroom are naked except for their diapers. They latch on to Cooper’s legs.

“Someone smells really ripe,” Cooper’s voice booms as he looks down at the two cuties jumping on his leg.

Cooper picks up the girl. “Is it you, Nikki?” He sniffs her diaper and then puts her down.

“I dumped!” the boy says gleefully, standing with his chubby, baby hands behind his back.

“Owen,” Cooper feigns disapproval. He picks him up, the foul odor overpowering. “Whoa! You’ve got a big bomb in there, kiddo.” He puts Owen under an arm and hoists up Nikki with his other arm.

“Evan said he’d put them to bed for me,” Greer says.

“Okay. I’ll change them and then hand them over to him.” Cooper laughs as he holds the floppy gigglers at his sides. “Wait here, Imogene. I’ll be right back.”

I take my jacket off and hang it and my handbag on the back of a kitchen stool.

When Cooper returns, he greets a few more people, and then we sit at the messy counter island.

“What would you like to eat?” Cooper asks me with a serving spoon poised above a tray of macaroni and cheese. There are eight other similar trays with unidentifiable casseroles.

“Whatever you’re having.” Among all these strangers and under the circumstances, I’m not at ease, and filling my empty, nervous stomach has little appeal.

Cooper fills my plate with goopy concoctions and then makes one for himself with enormous proportions to satisfy a giant. Greer passes us bottles of cold water from the fridge.

“This place is a disaster,” she says to Cooper. “It’s not just this kitchen, the downstairs bathrooms … and that living room is trashed.” Behind her, Beth stacks the unopened casserole dishes on top of one another and leans back against the counter with an exhausted sigh.

“I doubt Mom cares,” Cooper says solemnly as he chews.

I take a few bites of food, but my heart isn’t in it. I put my fork down and watch Cooper and Greer discuss how to get the house organized and keep people moving in and out for the next few days.

“Cooper?” A very pretty woman stands at the entrance to the kitchen. At the sight of her, my stomach lurches as if it’s about to expel the few lumps of noodles and lettuce I managed to swallow.

“Sofia, hi.” Cooper gets up from his stool and strides across the room to give her a big hug.

Sofia
, my brain whispers to me. Sofia, the girlfriend from high school and college. Sofia, the doctor. Sofia, a gorgeous brunette with green eyes; long, straight glossy hair; and a perfect figure. She’s taller and slimmer than me, dressed casually yet very chic in a white, silk blouse under a fitted leather jacket and a gauzy blue scarf wrapped around her neck. She looks like a model who stepped off the streets of Paris. She’s utterly breathtaking. Beth and Greer obviously know her well and both step forward to give her hugs, too.

I feel rather plain, dumpy, and invisible next to her. I’m still holding the photo album in one hand. No way am I giving this back. While their little love fest is going on, I jam the album in my handbag that’s hanging on the back of the chair. I remind myself that Sofia is Cooper’s ex-girlfriend. She’s in the past. I’m the present.
I’m the present ex-girlfriend.

“Sofia, this is Imogene,” Cooper says, smiling with his hand out towards me.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Sofia says, displaying a sincere smile.

“Hello.” I jump off the stool and put my hand out for a quick shake while sizing her up. I have at least thirty pounds on her. Not to sound petty and jealous—
I am!
—but I could take her.

“I’m going to take Sofia upstairs to see my mother. Hopefully, she’s awake,” Cooper says to me. “I’ll be back down soon.”

“Okay, sure.” I try to sound confident.

After they leave, Greer regards me with a sympathetic smile. “She’s an ex. But it was years ago,” she says to reassure me.

“No biggie,” I lie with a nonchalant hand wave. “I have a great idea.”

“What?” Beth asks wearily.

“You two sit down, eat, and relax. I’ll clean up here. I have a lot of experience in this area of food service.”

“You’re a guest, Imogene. We don’t expect you to do anything,” Greer says flatly.

“I’m a friend. You’re both going through a tough time, and I want to be useful. Sit down,” I demand. Both women oblige me by coming around to my side of the kitchen island and sitting down on the stools.

I give Beth and Greer two nice ceramic plates from the cupboard, not the flimsy paper ones, and they serve themselves from the buffet set before them. Then, for the next two hours, I put the giant pots of stews into small, individualized serving containers and break down all the casseroles into smaller plastic and glass containers I find in the cupboards.

I label and stack everything in the fridge to make it easy to find and serve them. I re-plate all the desserts and place them on the kitchen table along with stacks of paper plates and plastic utensils so people can serve themselves. I find Peyton and have him set up lined trash cans at the entrance to the kitchen and by the table so it’s obvious to anyone eating that they must clear their own garbage. Then I set up a beverage station at the end of the island with bottles of soda, water, juice, and disposable cups.

When the rest of the kitchen island and all the counters are cleared and wiped down, I wash all the big pots and pans by hand and put them away. I clear one shelf in the fridge for any new incoming food brought by visitors while Greer and Beth watch me in silent appreciation. I have to admit, it feels good to put my diner skills to use.

After all the food is organized, the kitchen is immaculate, and I’ve created a flow for making serving, eating, and cleaning easier, I plunk down on the stool between the two women.

“Thank you,” Beth exclaims with some renewed energy. “The kitchen hasn’t looked this nice in weeks.”

“It was my pleasure. Thank you for letting me be with your family today.”

I don’t have to mention that part of my lengthy visit and industrious kitchen endeavor is due to wanting to see Cooper who has been upstairs all this time. I’m losing hope that he will return any time soon.

“My mother and Sofia were close for many years,” Greer says, as if she can read my mind. “They haven’t seen each other in a long time, and Cooper hasn’t seen her, either. They’re just catching up.”

“I need to get going.” I stand and pick up my bag and jacket, the precious photo album making the bag rather heavy.

“You can’t drive back tonight. It’s too late,” Greer says, standing up to take their plates and glasses to the dishwasher.

“I didn’t plan on spending the night. I’ll be fine driving back. There’s less traffic now.”

“No. You have to stay. My dad’s house is across the street. Evan took my kids over there and put them to bed in my old room. I can set you up in the boys’ old room. They’re bunk beds, but I can loan you a T-shirt to sleep in, and you’ll have the bathroom to yourself. It’s just my dad, me, and my kids staying over in that big house. Cooper and the others are camping out here on couches and whatever bed they can find.”

I contemplate this for a moment, sleeping in Cooper’s childhood room. I really am too tired to take that confusing drive back to Hera tonight, and with my mind obsessing about Cooper, I’m liable to crash my car.

Imogene, you want to stay near the Viking
, my inner voice nags.

Twenty-Nine

The decision to not leave right away gives me a tinge of hope. Greer walks me across the street to her father’s brownstone a few houses down. When we enter, I notice it hasn’t been renovated. It has the musty scent of older furniture and décor used by a big, bustling family years ago. The home is dark and quiet.

“My dad is asleep and hopefully my kids are, too,” Greer says as she leads me up a narrow staircase similar to the one in her mother’s home. The rows of houses all built during the same Victorian time are attached side by side and have the same layout unless they have been renovated by new, wealthy owners.

We peek in Greer’s childhood room and look towards the big, pink bed where Owen and Nikki are fast asleep. Then she leads me down the hall and flips on the light switch in the boys’ old room. It’s painted blue, has two bunk beds with plaid comforters, several posters of heavy metal bands, and dusty models of ships and planes.

“The bedding was cleaned a few days ago and no one has been using this room. Cooper sleeps on one of my mom’s couches or on the floor in the kids’ playroom, and my other brothers stay at their own homes every night since they live nearby. So, you have the bedroom to yourself. Do you want to borrow a night shirt?”

“No. I’m fine.”

Greer leaves and returns with a package of toothbrushes. “Bathroom is right through that door,” she points. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

I brush my teeth in the dated, blue-tiled bathroom, turn off the overhead light, and lie on top of the comforter of one of the bottom bunks. Then I turn on my side and face a window, staring at the branches of a tree for what seems like hours before I close my eyes and try to meditate the way Cooper has explained it to me. That’s a big fail. I’m too restless to fall asleep, and I can’t clear my brain from thinking.

I pop my eyes open when I hear the click of the door opening and heavy footsteps on the rug.

“Imogene,” Cooper whispers. I feel his hand gently rest on my hip and the mattress sink as he sits on the bed. “Are you asleep?”

“No.” I turn over to face him.

His sculpted features look more severe in the moonlight yet still handsome and beautiful. I yearn to touch his face and kiss his lips, but I don’t move.

He studies me for a few seconds then leans down and kisses my forehead. I smell Sofia’s floral perfume on him. “Can I stay here with you for a bit? I need to get out of that house for a while.”

“Sure. I turn back to my side, and he lies down and spoons me, but there are a few inches of space between our fully clothed bodies to keep it innocent. It doesn’t temper the desire surging through my veins, though. The yearning has turned into a burning lust. I cross my arms in front of me and keep my hands to myself as Cooper moves his head closer to mine until I feel his breath on the back of my neck.

“My mother is dying,” he says in a low, sad voice. His arm snakes around my waist, and I take his hand in mine and bring it to my lips. We hold each other like that until I hear his breathing change and his body leans into mine, heavy with slumber.

Perhaps he wears Sofia scent because of simple hugs or maybe there’s more between them. It doesn’t change how I feel about him, though. In fact, seeing him tonight makes it harder to stop myself from falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

I think my love for him must be an endless pit. I keep falling, and I don’t know how I’ll find my way out.

I wake before him when it’s early and barely light outside. I untangle my body gently from Cooper and slip out of bed. I brush my teeth and grab my shoes, bag, and jacket then tiptoe down the creaky, old staircase.

“Good morning,” Greer says, coming down the hall from the kitchen. “Dad and the kids are still asleep. I made coffee and eggs. Will you join me?”

“Thank you, but I need to get on the road before the traffic gets bad.” I slip on my shoes and slink towards the front door.

“Oh,” she says, disappointed. “Okay. Well, I hope I get to see you more often. Next time I come to visit Cooper, we should get together.”

“I’d like that.” Against my typical protocol, I give Greer a hug. “I’ll be thinking about you and your mom.”

“Thank you.”

She slouches against the front door, waving goodbye as I cross the street to find my car. Fortunately, it wasn’t towed. I toss my bag and jacket in the car and drive out of the tight parking spot.

I roll down my window for fresh air and drive slowly down the one-way street that takes me back past both Fiona’s and Stu’s homes. Greer is gone when I drive past. A sickening wave of melancholy begins to swirl in my gut and work its way up to my chest where it sits there like a dead weight. Everything about leaving Cooper here feels wrong.

“Imogene!”

As I glance over my shoulder and see Cooper running down the sidewalk, I slow down and check for him in the side mirror. He jumps on a car and runs the length of it before landing in the street. I stop, blocking the cars behind me, and Cooper runs around to the driver’s side and flings open my door.

“You didn’t even say goodbye!” he says, out of breath.

“I didn’t want to wake you. You need the rest, Cooper.” I glance back at the cars honking at us and then take in his tired yet determined eyes that regard me with disappointment.

“You thought you could sneak away?” he asks.

“I’m not sneaking away. Your mom asked me not to be here for the funeral. She asked me very nicely to leave,” I explain in a shaky voice.

“I know,” he says. “Damn, I hate this.”

While I nod, our eyes lock, and we both move in for a kiss. A real one. A needy one. His tongue pushes between my lips, and I meet him with the same hunger, thankful there’s no trace of Sofia’s perfume, just Cooper’s musky, manly scent. The kiss ends when the fed-up morning commuters lean on their car horns all at once.

“I’m not leaving. I’m going back to Hera. I’ll be there when you come back. You’ll need friends to lean on.” I take all the romance out of that kiss in a matter of seconds.

“Friends,” he says. “Right … okay … Bye, Imogene.”

Once he closes my door, I drive away, watching him in the rearview mirror as a caravan of cars follows me.

Thirty

Four days after I return home, Fiona passes away with her family at her bedside. Three days after her death, the family holds the funeral. I receive all of this information secondhand from Leo. Cooper and I haven’t spoken since that morning I left him standing in the street.