Page 90 of Now That It's You
“No, I mean actual possessions. Or habits. Like the tea or the boxer briefs. Those are things you got from another woman.”
Kyle looked down at his underwear, dismayed to realize he was wearing a pair Cara had given him when they’d decided to celebrate Groundhog Day. “These will make your junk look hot,” she’d teased, reaching around to grab his ass the way she used to.
He didn’t miss her. Not really. But sometimes he missed the ritual of being part of a couple.
“I hadn’t thought about it,” he admitted as he took a sip of tea.
“Sure you had. You can’t tell me it didn’t cross your mind last night when we walked back here to the bedroom. I saw you pause. You were wondering if I’d ever been with Matt in this bed, weren’t you?”
Guilty as charged. “You’ve added mind reading to your roster of skills?”
“So it’s true?”
He hesitated, then shrugged. “Yeah, mostly.” Kyle turned his mug around, dunking the teabag in and out to give him something to do with his hands. “That wasn’t the only thing on my mind at that moment, but I did consider it.”
“I understand. I mean, that’s why I said what I did. I was just thinking about Cara’s vagina and?—”
“Wait, what?”
“The sculpture in your gallery.” Meg sipped her tea. “The one you told me was modeled after her hoo-ha?”
“Right, I get it. What about it?”
“That’s part of what I’m talking about. Those little souvenirs of past lovers are pretty much always going to be there. Like I noticed the tie you wore to the funeral was the one you got for Christmas six or seven years ago from the girl you were dating back then. Aurelia or Olivia or something like that?”
“Olivia.” Kyle laughed, taken aback by the memory. “I’d be impressed by your powers of recall, except that it’s the only tie I’ve ever owned and you probably know that.”
“I might’ve guessed. I remember that gift didn’t go over too well.”
Kyle shook his head, surprised to feel a niggle of annoyance after all this time. His mother had been thrilled by Olivia’s not-so-subtle attempt to nudge Kyle toward a desk job, maybe something with a steady paycheck and an office that didn’t have steel shavings on the floor. Kyle remembered holding that tie, torn between the need to thank his then-girlfriend for the present and his urge to wonder if she knew him at all.
The relationship had imploded within three months.
“There’s a lot of history there,” he said. “Relics from past romances. I guess unless you lose everything in a house fire, you’re bound to have tangible souvenirs sitting around.”
She nodded and took another sip of tea. “My history’s a little more limited considering I started dating Matt so young and we were together almost ten years.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I noticed you’re still using that trivet you got in Morocco when you went there with that old boyfriend?”
“See?” She laughed and nudged his elbow. “You do notice stuff like that.”
“Only because Matt always hated that trivet.”
“Do you think that’s why? The reminder that I’d gotten it with another guy?”
“Maybe.”
Meg drained her mug, then set it aside on the nightstand. “So you won’t blame me when I confess I noticed you’ve still got your keys on Melody’s keychain.”
“Melody!” Kyle laughed. “God, I’d almost forgotten her.”
“You dated for almost a year.”
“Yeah, but it was almost nine years ago. How do you remember that?”
“Women remember things like that. I could probably name all the girlfriends you’ve had over the years in chronological order. Let’s see, there was Jodi, Shonna, Melody, Karen, Olivia, Hailey, Cara . . . ”
“Damn, I’m impressed.”
