I jump at the female voice and turn to see a pretty woman with a face that’s so familiar I do a double-take. It takes me a minute to realize why: she looks exactly like Phillip but in female form. It’s actually shocking.
“Mindy, this is my fiancée, Leleila.” Phillip smiles broadly. “Leleila, this is Dr. Mindy Cox.”
She’s wearing a wrap-around black skirt that falls to the floor and a thick white Irish sweater with a dark turtleneck underneath. Her hair is worn down and falls to about her shoulders. It’s thin, straight hair, like Phillip’s, and the same color brown. Her eyes are what strike me the most. They’re not only the same color as Phillip’s. They’re set back in her face the same way, and they have that same lifeless look his often have, especially after he’s been working a lot. Her eyes look so tired and have such dark circles underneath them I almost ask her if she’s okay.
She shakes my hand and smiles. I smile back, but my chest tightens as we stand across from each other.
“What’s going on?” I say politely.
“Mindy needs help with her research,” Phillip explains. “I drove her here from the university so she could take a look at my specimen.”
I don’t want to touch that sentence.
Phillip’s still smiling. I can’t remember the last time he was this genuinely enthusiastic about something.
He heads for his microscope. “Mindy, come sit here.” He pats the seat next to him on the couch, the exact spot where I usually sit with him when he works. “It will just take a moment to get my specimen set up.”
Oh my God.It’s like porn for scientists. I go into the kitchen and make myself a cup of chamomile tea. I feel rude not offering a cup to Mindy or Phillip, so I go back out to the living room.
“Does anyone want some tea?”
Mindy shakes her head no, but Phillip’s so wrapped up in his specimen he doesn’t even hear me come into the room. And when he does finally notice me, he barely reacts before going back to the microscope.
“Sorry, honey,” he says with his left eye trained on the lens. “This specimen’s fresh, so it’s best if we work with it now.”
“Don’t let me interrupt you.” I return to the kitchen and take a seat on one of the bar stools at the counter. I stare out the dark window aimlessly for what seems like forever although, in reality, it’s probably only about fifteen minutes.
Then I hear talking. Enthusiastic, animated talking that I tune out as fast as I can. I do not want to hear any more talk about specimens.
“Lei! Are you in there?”
I get off the stool and walk into the living room. “I’m right here.”
“Great.” Phillip looks at Mindy, and they smile widely at each other.
When he turns back to me, it almost feels like he has to force his head to rotate in my direction because he doesn’t want to stop looking at Mindy. I can see it clearly in his expression—he doesn’t want to stop staring into her eyes.
“Mindy and I were going to go grab a drink before we call it a night,” Phillip says to me.
“I love that vegan restaurant that serves Kombucha tea.” Mindy turns to me politely. “Would you like to join us?”
I close my eyes. Maybe when I re-open them, Phillip and Mindy will have disappeared to their kombucha restaurant, and I’ll be left here alone. But when I open my eyes, they’re both still here, waiting for my answer.
“I’m not thirsty,” I say lamely. “Why don’t you two go? Phillip, I’ll see you when you get back.”
As soon as they walk out the door, all the tension that had been festering inside the house goes with them.
I decide to air-dry the soil samples I gathered this afternoon so I can get a quick look at them under Phillip’s scope once they’re ready.
I call Sophia, hoping to catch her before she goes to bed. No answer. She probably spent the night with Slammer, and I’ll hear from her tomorrow with details I don’t want to know.
I feel so down I sit at the computer and email my parents. I don’t know what possesses me to do it; the chances of them writing back are next to nil. But I miss my mother right now, and I’d love to know when they’re coming home.
As soon as I hit send, I feel so restless I think I may go out of my mind. I walk around the house in a circle for over five minutes, finally flopping down on the living room floor in exhaustion. I lie on my back and realize, from this angle, I can see the stars through the window. I relax into the carpet, grabbing my afghan off the sofa to put over me.
I remember lying on Brayden’s rug with him the other day and how easy it felt to be with him. I close my eyes and breathe, giving myself permission to be still in a way I never have.
Something about tonight has me all sorts of wired, and I’m desperate for a way to relax. I slip my hand inside my pants, and I don’t hold back from making myself feel good. I can’t stop the unbidden fantasies that come to mind as I’m touching myself—images of a blond, gruff cowboy with his head between my legs. The sensations hitting me are so intense I moan out loud. And when I reach that place I haven’t been in a long time with Phillip, I’m surprised to feel tears stain my cheeks.
