Life Plus One Read online

  He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pen. “Harper, people are looking at you because you’re the most beautiful girl in this room—probably even the world.” He means every single word. My heart rate speeds up. It’s this buzzing feeling because I can smell his cologne and see the honesty in his eyes and that’s all I want. All a person really needs in another person. Truth. There’s an honesty in his kiss that I know I won’t find anywhere else, regardless of how many boys I kiss.

  He slides his hand down to my wrist, then up the lace sleeve. “Thanks for coming, Benny,” I say again, louder this time so he can hear me over the music.

  “I’d never leave my girl to the wolves,” he says, swallowing hard. His gaze flicks down to my empty wrist. “I have something for you. It’s not what I had in mind when my mom demanded I save you, but it’s all I have time for.” He smirks and raises one brow. I nod.

  Leading me by the hand, he moves us closer to the shark aquarium. Sliding the tight lace around my wrist up my forearm, he bends over, pen in hand, and starts drawing on my skin. “You’re tickling me,” I exclaim as I watch him work.

  Ben moves my arm as he draws. He bites his tongue and bottom lip as he concentrates—his gaze intent like a furious artist.

  “Done. It’s totally worth the tickle factor. What do you think?” he asks, bending my arm so I can see my wrist. He clicks the pen closed and slides it back into his pocket. He leaves his hand in mine as he watches me appraise his handiwork.

  I swallow down the lump in my throat. “It’s the most beautiful corsage I’ve ever seen.” It is a horrible drawing that wraps my entire wrist. “Daisies?” I ask as I narrow my eyes. “Or a rose hybrid?” I sniff my wrist. “The flowers smell so lovely. You shouldn’t have. Thank you so much.” Doodles. The man can cheer me up with doodles. Always has and always will.

  “If you don’t sweat your ass off like it’s an underground rave, you might be able to keep the flowers all night,” Benny replies. “Dance with me?” He extends one hand and raises a brow. I say a silent prayer, thanking God Jeff got the flu.

  A slow song trickles through the speakers and I can’t get into his arms fast enough. We sway to the music, the side of my face pressed firmly against his chest. “How did you rent a tux so fast?” I ask. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a tux and it just might be the most handsome thing I’ve ever seen.

  I can feel him raise and lower his shoulders. “Maybe, I always wanted to come to prom with you, Harpee.”

  All he had to do is ask and he didn’t. That means the kiss changed things for him, too. My whole body glows with anticipation. “Thanks for breaking your rule about no school functions. The sharks aren’t good dancers.” I tilt my head to the side of the room where the huge, lithe creatures swim above our heads.

  “Neither are the wolves,” he growls, eyes darting around the room. “You should have known Jeff would end up puking on prom night. He’s that type of guy.”

  Laughing, I pull myself against him tighter. He presses against me, and my mouth waters. The need to kiss him wars with my sensibilities. “Careful, little lady. Unless you want a true prom night.” Ben pulls back to peer in my eyes. When he sees my panic, he winks.

  I can see the doodle on my wrist all night long, my hands twining around his neck. It’s the best night of my life. For the first time ever, I belong somewhere. Our peers whisper and stare and it’s not because we’re different, or weird.

  It’s because we have something none of them ever will.

  Chapter Nine

  Harper

  It feels so good to be back in San Diego. Marcus and I have settled into a comfortable lifestyle in a small two-bedroom craftsman house near the college. We’re so busy we rarely have time to do anything other than mandatory obligations. I have Sunday dinner at my parents’ house every weekend, but I rarely have time for my friends in a non-school setting. My mom called last week and mentioned Ben was dating a girl and they’re pretty serious. It’s the first time I’ve gleaned facts about his life through another source. It was odd.

  I ignored the familiar sting, but it made all the pieces fall into place. The no contact. Not even so much as a text in weeks. I’ve made other truly, good friends and it’s nice to have an adult circle of likeminded individuals to brighten the monotony. A Harvard degree didn’t make me an adult. Life did. And I’m so busy living it, sometimes I forget to enjoy it.

  I’m in our office at home when Marcus drops into his chair across from me. We’ve fit two desks and three bookshelves in here. We’re the epitome of master’s students. We live and breathe school. “We should do something fun this weekend, Harp. It’s been so long since we’ve done something for us. With friends.”

  I nod, spinning in my swivel chair to face his side of the room. “The workload is incredible. I moved here hoping to spend more time with family and I might have to cancel Sunday dinner again this weekend. I have to grade those exams and this paper is acting like a bogus clown. I can’t get it to behave.”

  “I saw the paper earlier today. You left it up on the laptop. It’s not bogus at all. It’s solid. Don’t worry so much. You’ve got this.” He clears his throat. “When’s the last time we’ve hung out with friends?”

  I lay a palm on my forehead. “It’s been forever.”

  “Let’s make dinner plans for this weekend. Call Ben and see if he wants to come along. Let’s let off some steam. What do you say?” My first thought is that he’s crazy. The second is that I want nothing more than to relax for a few hours without thinking about anything taxing. “Drinks and tacos. You can’t say no.” He’s making a rolling gesture with his arms, and I laugh at how goofy he looks.

  “The fact that you’re the one proposing this says a lot of about the dire need of a night off.” I’m usually the one begging off to do something fun. Marcus is all work and no play.

  “Proposing, huh?” Marcus says, smiling that wide, beautiful smile. It’s malicious this time. Calculating. I’m not giving him something he wants and I’m unsure how long I can hold out without causing an enormous rift.

  I throw a wadded-up ball of paper at his head. “Stop. I don’t want to get into that conversation right now. Nor do I have the time.”

  He holds up both hands. “Fine. Fine. Just thought I’d bring your Freudian slip to attention.” Marcus wants to get married. While I’m not opposed, because I honestly don’t know who the hell else would marry a person like me—a person enraptured with success and my career, I just can’t agree to it. We’ve been together for years and I know he’s getting pressure from his parents. There’s something, and I’m not sure what, holding me back from pressing the gas pedal. Most would tell me I’m being childish, but I’m stubborn enough to trust my gut. I need more time. After my master’s I can slow down and marry Marcus. I’ve told him that a half dozen times, but he shakes his head and tells me there will never be a perfect time. Sort of like a robot, but with more feeling.

  Shouldn’t there be, though? A perfect time? Shouldn’t something like a wedding day be perfect? Free of all encumbrances of a harried, busy life? Free of all notions of what’s supposed to happen and when it should happen? Love doesn’t happen organically twice. It’s an impossibility. Marcus changes the subject to his brother’s impending visit.

  In lieu of stressing about a family visit, I reply, “I’ll call Ben.” I turn in my chair so I can hide my face and every emotion I don’t want him to see. “If he’s away on a work trip it can be a date. Just you and me.” I hear him open a textbook and I take his silence for what it truly is. A promise to bring up the marriage thing again as soon as the time arises. Maybe it doesn’t have to be perfect, maybe it just has to work.

  Before I lose my nerve, I dial Ben. He picks up on the first ring.

  “Harper. Fancy hearing your ring in my ears.” His voice, after some time has passed, makes my heart race. Graduation was a much needed visit. We laughed and talked about the old days, and then it ended and he left to go do God
knows what. His face was stoic as he said goodbye and my stomach filled with dread when I saw it. We don’t talk about those things anymore. They make our parents worried, and they make me plain, ole’ terrified. Ben knows it. His life is a secret because it has to be, and because he’s sparing our feelings. I realize how selfless an act it is. How difficult it must be to keep your entire life shrouded in a rose-colored cloth for the benefit of those you care about.

  I laugh. “How are you doing? It’s been a while. Can’t call a best friend on a more frequent basis?” Even as I give him a hard time, I eye the stack of unfinished work on my desk. I’m just as much to blame for the friend absence. “I win, by the way. I called first.” My stomach falls when I realize my tone has changed completely and Marcus is listening to every joy tinged word fleeing my mouth. I swallow and try to compose myself.

  Ben’s returning chuckle warms my stomach. “I’m good. Lots of trips. You caught me at home, though. You got your radar on me?”

  Clearing my throat, and my nerves, I get it all out in a rush. “Want to go out to dinner with Marcus and me? Mom says you have a girlfriend now, so it could be a double date.”

  “The timing is too good to be true. Sure. Where?”

  My stomach sinks. I didn’t realize I wanted him to deny the girlfriend until right this second, when he doesn’t.

  “It’s time you met Norah. Give her the official Harper stamp of approval.”

  She has a place in his life and she has a name. A pretty one.

  We hash out the details, without consulting our significant others, and he ends the call with a cheery goodbye. I knew it would happen. I was surprised it took this long, but it truly wasn’t until I told him to move on that he did. Ben deserves happiness in whatever form he can find it in.

  “We all set then?” Marcus growls from the other side of the room. The consternation in his words pricks my whole body with unease. Every once in a while, when he’s tired and worked to the bone, I see the side of Marcus I experienced right before I flew out to visit Ben. Luckily, it’s not frequently, but when it happens it does make me uncomfortable enough to smile at his grimace, leave the room, and eventually the house, with some lame excuse about needing coffee from a shop instead of a pot.

  Brooding on his side of the room, I give him the details while focusing on the framed drawing of a park above his desk. He holds his pen up in the air to let me know I’m dismissed and I leave the room quietly, respecting his need to get stuff finished.

  I make my way out the back door and flop down in a chair on the patio, a stack of papers as my only company. Concentrating is hard. For the first time in my life, I feel something other than excitement and happiness at the prospect of seeing Ben.

  I feel a swirl of anxious dread. Norah. I wonder what she looks like. I wonder if she’s seeing the smile that belongs to me. I wonder if Ben is finally in love.

  ++++

  Ben is gesturing wildly. “He turned around and said, ‘Don’t touch it unless you can fix it,’” he says, finishing some story he heard from his friends. “Not since before the dawn of time has anyone used an ax as a weapon,” Ben adds, shaking his head.

  Everyone is rapt. Especially Norah. She watches Ben, chin resting on one hand, like he hung the moon. I can’t look at her longer than a few seconds without feeling something akin to buyer’s remorse. Marcus asks Ben lots of questions and because Ben is so effervescent and malleable in any situation he makes this whole thing seem as easy as walking down the street on a sunny day.

  I sip my drink and smile. Marcus keeps his hand on my knee for a long time. When he finally takes it off when our appetizers arrive, there’s a sweaty, warm spot that reminds me of a swamp.

  “Tell us about yourself, Norah. You’ve been so quiet,” Marcus says during a lull.

  He’s irritating the hell out of me, but right now I could kiss him. Aside from a brief introduction in front of the hostess stand, I haven’t heard her speak. Ben wraps an arm around her chair, as if Marcus’ question reminded him she existed.

  Norah grins at the subtle touch from Ben. She loves him. It’s so obvious to me. I wonder if it’s obvious to a stranger. I look at Marcus, but he’s staring at the couple with an air of indifference. “I’m a veterinarian at an animal hospital down the street from Ben’s house.” She’s smart and committed. And beautiful. Expecting anything less wouldn’t have given Ben enough credit.

  I can’t keep the rabid curiosity at bay. “How did you two meet?” I ask.

  Ben looks wildly amused as he tilts his head toward my voice. He reads beneath the surface of my questions and I might as well be fully exposed—stripped of the skin that masks my insides.

  Ben turns his focus to Norah. “Go ahead. Tell them,” he prompts, leaning in close to her face.

  She sighs. “Ben found a kitten in a sewage drain by his house. He pounded on the door two hours before my clinic opened. I happened to go in early that day to finish some files from the night before and opened the door when I saw the kitten.”

  Ben smiles, pleased that he’s the hero in this story. “It lived and now I have a black cat named Pennywise,” he explains.

  Marcus puts his hand back on my leg and I can feel his eyes boring into my bones.

  I smile because Marcus is watching. “That’s a great story,” I say, actually meaning it.

  Norah, continues, her eyes taking on a far-off love swept look. “He kept coming back day after day to check on the little guy. God knows I’m attracted to a man who loves animals. Especially one as handsome as Ben. I asked him out the fourth time he came around.”

  My eyes flare, but I tamp down on the surprise quickly as everyone is watching for my reaction. Marcus, for jealousy, Ben to see if the story is getting a rise out of me, and Norah, because she’s talking to me. I flush.

  “He’s so charming without meaning to be.”

  I nod and reaffirm her sentiment. A million stories of how Ben charmed me come to mind, but I realize only one matters. Theirs.

  Norah and Ben’s story is perfect.

  “How did you and Marcus meet?” Norah asks innocently, merely returning the favor to let me wax poetic about my relationship. She doesn’t like speaking about herself. I can already tell she’s a listener.

  I tell them the story about the first day of class at Harvard and how I ran late. Tardiness isn’t a trait I’d ever own on a normal basis, so I was flustered, and the professor had already started and the only seat left was next to a very good-looking man, with a bright, wide smile. Marcus whispered where we were at in the text and smirked as he tapped the end of his pen on the correct paragraph.

  I wanted to explain to him that I got held up on a phone call, that I wasn’t this spaced out loser destined to flunk out of Harvard before I’d gotten out of the gate. I didn’t have a chance, though. I stayed silent and thanked him with a meek smile. “He asked me to study that same day, right after class. The rest is history.” I squeeze Marcus’ hand on my knee.

  “She’s a beautiful girl. Can you blame me?” Marcus says, palming his chest with one hand.

  Ben looks off to the left. “Nope. Not at all.” His usual, jovial smile has vanished and Norah rubs a hand on his back. Can she tell he’s upset because of me?

  Does she know how important I am to Ben? The thought makes me feel weak—like a vulnerable calf waiting for slaughter. “That’s a great story, Harper. You two have so much in common. You’re the best couple ever,” Norah coos, clasping her hands together in front of her. Our story reads like a textbook and theirs reads like a fable.

  “Yeah, the stuff fairy tales are made of,” Ben adds, giving a pointed wink in Marcus’ direction. “It’s been a while now, hasn’t it?”

  Marcus knows down to the minute when our anniversary is, so it’s him who answers. I take a sip of my drink and compliment Norah’s nail color instead. It’s a light mauve, a color my grandma loves. On her, it looks chic and in style. She sidesteps the compliment by gushing about the woman who does her na
ils and tells me we should go together next week and grab lunch at the Pho place next door.

  I agree to the outing while Ben watches the interaction with curiosity. I’m sure he thought jealous rage would seep out of my pores and turn to acid. Leave it to him to select a woman so polished and polite that I literally have nothing to hate about her except she has more of Ben’s time than I do. We order dinner and we eat while partaking in overly polite conversation. Marcus kisses my check when he excuses himself to the restroom, and Ben seethes at the innocuous touch of his lips.

  “Want to help me grab another round at the bar?” I ask, tilting my head toward the crowded corner where people are mingling about, trying to find something they probably won’t locate in the wiry, loose atmosphere.

  She smiles wide. “Yes. Of course!” she replies, patting the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

  The restaurant turns into a club at 9 p.m. and the service starts slowing down to a snail’s pace. If the food wasn’t so good, there’s no way we’d deal with it. Norah stands, a willowy, graceful being, and tucks her soft blond hair behind one ear. After Marcus returns, the men give me their drink orders, and we head to the bar. She stays close to my side as we weave toward our destination. It’s hard not to compare myself to her for the solitary reason that we are polar opposites.

  She sways a little when she walks. Not because she’s trying to get attention, but because she has that natural grace some tall women have. She could be a ballerina in another life. The self-conscious part of me recognizes it in her, and I think maybe I finally see what drew Ben in. It’s in the way her eyes dart around the room, but never land on any one thing for too long. “Ben talks about you all the time. I can’t believe I haven’t gotten a chance to meet you yet,” Norah says, leaning down to make sure I can hear her.

  “Yeah, we’re both pretty busy.” I’d love to be able to say I know everything about her, but he didn’t share this part of his life. My stomach rolls when I realize it’s the first thing he’s kept from me. “A childhood full of menacing,” I joke, turning to the bar to order our drinks when I catch the bartender’s eye.