CHAPTER NINETEEN
John flicks a piece of his brown hair off his forehead and sits down in the chair across from my desk. His olive green shorts expose his hairy man legs, but the interesting thing is the purple Dragon tattoo circling itself up his calf. I can’t bring myself to ask what would possess him to get such a tattoo, but I watch it move as he sits down and positions his legs.
Grant definitely doesn’t have any random dragons tattooed on him. If I could only fall for a guy like John. Devoted to helping the kids, even if he does receive a small paycheck. He’s local. I like his brown hair. Of course those are pieces that pertain to Grant as well…even if I don’t want to admit it.
But try as I might I can’t force feelings for John. Which is a pity. He’d probably get along well with Drew. Of course so does Grant. Drew told me he’s on my side over the whole ordeal but four hours after Grant set up the Xbox the two of them were playing side by side on the couch.
Grant has continued his quest to make me like him by using food. Every night he cooks a delicious smelling meal. I have yet to give in to his suggestions I eat at the table with him and Drew, but I have taken a plate up to my room every night. No sane person could turn down steak, chicken burritos, or spaghetti. The worst part is he’s a good cook. Don’t tell him I said that.
To make matters worse, when he’s not cooking dinner he’s providing me a lunch every single morning. It’s like we have our own Alice except we’re missing the six kids. On Tuesday I continued my trend and walked right on by the brown sack, but then he had someone hand-deliver it to my office later in the morning. You can’t have a lunchable on your desk all day and not eat it. I’m pretty sure that’s against the law.
By Wednesday I gave up and took it with me. In Thursday’s lunch he provided a Twinkie for dessert, which I’m sure is his way of rewarding me for good behavior. But it was a Twinkie, so I ate it.
John leans back in his chair, drawing my attention in his direction. Lost in the moment I’d forgotten he was here. I open my mouth and gather strength to ask him if he’d like to get a drink later tonight. Maybe if I force myself to have feelings for John, I’ll forget about Grant. Having him so close yet not allowing myself to touch him is torture.
“Your new roommate is back.”
“He is?” I ask probably doing a poor job of hiding my excitement.
“What’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing.” I put as much conviction as possible behind the word.
“Does he know that?”
“Of course he does, but I can’t stop him from volunteering. Plus the kids like him.” It’s a half truth and John knows it. If I didn’t want Grant here, I could revoke his privileges. But when he showed up Wednesday, I couldn’t turn him away. The kids have grown to love him. And they shouldn’t be punished because he and I are having problems. I would never let my anger keep them from someone who might help make a difference in their lives.
“It’s not like I want him here,” I give one last shot at indifference. “Doesn’t he have board meetings to attend or something?”
There are no plans to go out there and communicate with him unless I’m absolutely required. I have standards and just because he makes one hell of a burrito does not mean I need to fawn over him.
I’m not making the same mistake I made yesterday, that’s for sure. I watched him play basketball with the kids for over an hour. He took his shirt off halfway through. It was completely scandalous… for me. I didn’t get close enough to see the fine hairs on his chest, but they were there and it was enough.
On a positive note his dunking is still horrible. So there was some good to the day.
“Well, the kids do love him.” John stretches his legs out – the dragon bobbing his head.
“Yeah, yeah I know.” On Wednesday he let the girls paint his toenails this horrible bright pink color. They love him now too because they say he’s shown hissensitive side.It’s like the whole place is turning against me. First at home and now work.
Grant is trying to take over every ounce of my space. He even bought name brand toilet paper. The good stuff. Not that dollar for four rolls Drew and I use. There is now half a forest of toilet paper stored in our closet and every time I use the bathroom I picture bears.
“I better get started. I’ll see you out there,” John says leaving my office.
Fat chance. I plan to sit right here at my desk for the rest of the day.
**
I manage my stronghold for twenty-seven-and-a-half minutes before I stand up to stretch and accidently find myself in the hallway headed to the gym. Even my legs are traitorous. I lean up against the doorway not entering the gym and get away with my stealthy position until Grant passes the ball to another player and turns in my direction.
“You playing with us today?” he asks.
“Can’t,” I answer like there is a possibility of me stepping foot in the gym. “I wore the wrong shoes.” I stick my foot out to show him the blackstrap sandal heels I have on today.
Grant looks on with a small whistle making his way over to invade my area. “Those look particularly painful. Did you schedule us a ride home yet?”
I bristle at his connotation I need a ride home and that we have anusinvolved here. “Absolutely not.” My words are packed heavy with disdain.
“Drew decided we’re getting Chinese tonight. What should we order for you?”
