Page 13 of Man Hands
I wait it out. I can’t help having a highly developed color vocabulary. I’m a restorer of fine homes. I own enough paint samples to cover Michigan. “There are chocolate rabbits on the pink underwear,” I say when Braht can breathe again. “And a line of text:Chocolate Bunnies are My SpiritAnimal.”
Braht wipes his eyes andgiggles.
“Stop.” I kick him under the table. “She’s whimsical. She’sluscious.”
Braht’s coffee comes outhisnose.
Suddenly, I just can’t take it anymore. “That’s it! I’ve got to find her. So why am I sitting here waiting for a Meat Lovers Scramblerwithyou?”
Braht considers this. “First, because you need to eat. You get low blood sugar sometimes and it makes you stressy. Second, you don’t even know who this Cinderella is. Third, it’s six o’clock in the morning, and, if you went out searching for her now, you’d look like astalker.”
I grunt because it’salltrue.
“This girl isn’t what you need,anyway.”
Inside my shorts, my dick begs to differ. “Saysyou.”
“No, I’m serious. You don’t need another fuck. You need someone whoknowsyou. Yourwholeself.”
My whole self just wants another hour alone with Brynn. “Look, I tried things your way. The yoga. The meditation. My ass fell asleep, and I didn’t becomeenlightened.”
He’s already shaking his head. “You hold too much back, Tom. You did that withChandra.”
I hiss because he’s said my ex’s name aloud, and he’s not supposed todothat.
“Let me ask you this—did you ever sit her down and tell her about yourchildhood?”
“Fuck no! Nobody wants to hear about that.” My childhood wasn’tpretty.
His perfectly shaped eyebrows lift. “You shouldn’t even be surprised that it didn’t work out with her. She doesn’t know you half as well as I do. And you were together for ninemonths.”
I look around, hoping to see the waitress bearing down on our table withthefood.
Noluck.
“At least tell me this,” Braht continues. And I kind of want to kill him. “Did you loveChandra?”
“Sure,” I say quickly.Before she cruelly drop-kicked myheart.
“Yeah? Tell me the thing you loved best about her. One real thing, and then I won’t ask you about heragain.”
That is a deal I need. So I think hard. I close my eyes and picture Chandra on set at one of our projects together, bending over paint cans while her hair drapes down over the smooth skin of her shoulders. I can’t tell Braht how much I liked her hair, because that’s not really love. Even Iknowthat.
So I think some more, and it’s roughgoing.
Chandra was the interior designer onMr. Fixit Quick. My sidekick. My gal Friday. And, sure, the on-set romance was Hollywood behavior. I’m not proud. Especially since I was that idiot who thought he’d get a different result than the first thousand victims of show-bizromance.
I loved her because…she was there. And I wanted a person of my very own. My fortieth birthday is less than two years away. The whole bachelor thing is starting togetold.
Crap. That won’t fly,either.
After a long silence, I finally realize when I first fell for Chandra—the moment I knew we had something reallyspecial.
My eyes fly open. “Episode three!” I say, slapping a hand on the table. “We had a tough assignment. In the center of the living room was a set of antique bookcases—ugly as sin. But the owners insisted on keeping ’em. They put it in the contract and everything. It ruined the feng shui! Then Chandra painted the back of each compartment a different shade of robin’s egg blue.” I can still see it in my mind. “And it wasperfection.”
Braht gives me the world’s mostpiteouslook.
Luckily, that’s when the waitress finally sets my plate in front of me, and I love her a little bit for it. Then I eat a little and, once I feel my blood sugar level out, I’m back to thinking of Brynn. Brynn’s eyes. Brynn’s breasts. Brynn’s hand onmycock.
