Page 78 of The Other Guy

SIERRA

“I think I need friends,” I tell Toby. He turns his head and watches me stand in front of the mirror, trying to decide if I should wear a dress or jeans for Saturday night.

It’s only Thursday.

But when Jack asked me on a date last night, I couldn’t stop the feeling of excitement from bubbling over in my chest.

The realization that I truly don’t have any girlfriends is a hard pill to swallow. Sure, I have a few acquaintances and I have my online community, but a friend I can call and meet for lunch or coffee or pedicures? I can’t think of a single person.

I throw my outfit choices onto my unmade bed and go to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Kyle’s sitting by the kitchen table in a worn flannel and jeans, reading the newspaper with glasses perched on the end of his nose and sipping out of a cup.

Kyle’s house is cozy and warm, just like Jack’s. It’s not fancy or too big, but not small either. It’s well lived-in and comfortable. The rectangle table we’re sitting at has a few scratches and marks on the top, the chair cushions are worn in and mold to my butt perfectly. The light gray-blue walls could use a fresh coat of paint, and the cupboards look like they’ve been in here since the home was built in the 70s. The white appliances still work perfectly, even if they could be updated. The rest of the house is similar, a little outdated but still in great condition. The floors being the only exception to areas that are outdated. He recently tore up all his carpeting and linoleum, replacing it with a beautiful hardwood flooring. Kyle isn’t all about updating for the sake of making things look new. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it are words he lives by. He spends for needs rather than wants.

After pouring myself a steaming mug, I plop down on a chair and sigh loudly.

He takes the bait and puts down the paper, looking at me over his glasses. His salt and pepper hair is short and still thick, just like his beard.

“Something on your mind?”

“I need a friend.”

He removes his glasses and places them on the table, leans back in his chair, and crosses his arms over his chest. “Thought you just spent three days with a friend.”

I blush and press my lips together, looking away quickly.

“Yes, I did. But a friend who’s a girl.”

The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Ahh. Need a manicure buddy? Someone to drink a glass — bottle — of wine with?”

“Precisely.”

He chuckles and scrubs the back of his neck. “I might know someone who knows someone.” Now it’s his turn to look a little sheepish and my jaw drops.

“Uncle Kyle… are you seeing someone?”

“We’re just friends,” he says with a raise of an eyebrow. It’s a challenge to admit that Jack and I aren’t just friends. Since I’m not ready to go there yet, I let it go.

“Mm hmm. Mm hmm. Yes, I’m quite familiar with the term.”

We share a smile and I place an elbow on the table, resting my chin in my hand. I left my hair down this morning and threw on my softest pair of jeggings and a dark blue cable knit sweater. “So tell me about this friend of yours?”

“Name’s Rebecca.”

“And?”

“And, we’re friends. She owns that little store on the corner of Main and First Street. A boutique, I think she calls it. She’s got a granddaughter about your age. Real nice girl. I think she said her name’s Mallory and she’s married with a kid.

“I also might have mentioned your pet clothes to Rebecca, she wants to talk with you about displaying some at the store.”

“Aren’t you just full of good news for me?”

He reaches over and pats my hand. “Leave it to Uncle Kyle. I’ll make it all better for ya.”

I’d told him the whole story last night when he got home from the bar. Leaving out the sexy parts between Jack and me, of course. But he was reading between the lines and saw right through me. He knows that I want more but am too afraid to admit it.

He’s also very aware of what it was like in my home when I was growing up. He witnessed it all firsthand and understands my hesitations when it comes to relationships. He’s lectured me on it, as have my parents, but it’s never sunk in.

“You mentioned my pet clothes?”

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