Page 67 of Sexual Healing

“Ha! No, but I was wondering if you were.”

“I am, but you’d better stay over there, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“I was, but I know it wouldn’t be good for you,” he replied.

“It would be wonderful for me, but I’m not well-adjusted enough. I can’t separate my mind from my body.”

She was on the couch on the veranda in the dark, looking at the moon reflecting on the water. The scenario with Jake Sunday night kept running through her mind. Hopping in bed with Dan would erase all of that, but then she’d be faced with a new set of problems. It was better for Dan to stay away.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to separate it. If you did, I’d be nothing more than a vibrator.”

“Oh god, you’re really disgusting, you know that?”

“I know,” he said, laughing. “Sorry.”

“I just remember something I said to Jake that might have precipitated his leaving. I told him I wasn’t going to get any more plastic surgery.” She laughed out loud.

“He’s not that shallow,” Dan said, feeling protective of her. “I’m sure it’s deeper than that.”

“I know. He knew I didn’t love him,” she said. “I never said I love you. I’m not sure if he told me about the woman he was with, but I think he broke her heart. So he’s trying to do restitution.”

“Good luck with that,” Dan said.

“Do you want to meet at the 7-Eleven again tomorrow? I liked that.”

“You did, did you?” Dan asked. “It was kind of a crappy place to take a girl.”

“It felt right to me. We’re friends. We can stand by the old pay phone by the convenience store and talk for fifteen minutes.”

“What time?” he asked, a wave of love for her undeniable.

“Can you get away at ten? I’ll meet you after the gym.”

“I’ll look at my appointments first thing and let you know.”

“Talk to you tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow it is,” he said, longing to tell her his thoughts but deciding that they were fleeting, and why do that to her? “Goodbye, friend.”

“Ha! Goodbye.”

After they hung up, loneliness magnified. He was itching to call an old standby, but he’d burned all his bridges pretty much, and there was no one. Lily was a thought, but she’d expect something from him afterward. Laura had been perfect; she’d hop his fence in the rain to have sex, but she wasn’t interested now that she was withWill. Everyone on Sea View was happy or content but Dan.

Chapter 7

The sound of the waves crashing on the shore wasn’t enough to lull Lisa to sleep that night. There was just an energy that she couldn’t identify that was driving her a little crazy. Snoring next to her, Ryan seemed so happy and contented lately, and in contrast, her discontent grated on her nerves like nails on a chalkboard. She slid out of bed and crept to the door, shutting it softly behind her.

Understanding the source of her anxiety would probably help discharge it, but she didn’t want to dig too deeply, afraid of the consequences. In the kitchen, she separated the blinds facing the street and looked out at Dan’s house. Now there was a man who was getting on her nerves. Why were feelings for Dan surfacing at this point in her life? She guessed that having him around all the time would stir up negative emotions; the hurt and betrayal was old news. Why did she care about that? It might be that she’d have to keep her distance if he was going to have that effect on her, making her lose sleep. Maybe the cause was Dan after all. And of course, he was Ryan’s best friend now.

Pouring water in the coffee pot, she looked at the time. It was one thirty. All the people she had counted on in her life had moved on. Julie had to for her own mental health. Being around Lisa and Pam meant having to deal with Sandra and Brent, and it was too much for her. At Pam’s party, it was nice seeing Julie again, but that would be the extent of their friendship, superficial chitchat.

Alison was so tied up in her husband and children, as she should be. Even Dan Junior’s mother, Cara, had ceased to be more than a weekly call regarding visitation of her son. It was pleasant, but superficial.

Beginning to remind herself of Pam, it was inevitable. Like mother, like daughter.

“Oh god, not that,” she muttered, pouring a cup of coffee.

Taking it out onto the porch, she got into one of the overstuffed chairs and reached for her computer. She hadn’t taken the time to look at email all week, attempting to get her children into a routine for the summer.