Greg had gotten home from work late and was still boxing up Jill's stuff when the buzzer rang. He let them in, and opened the door, then continued to place things in boxes. When they arrived at the door, Dianne was the one to speak. "Hi Greg."
"Hi there. I would be done already, but I was running late, plus I had the car to bring the boxes home in."
Jill avoided making any eye contact with Greg. She wished he wasn't being so gallant about this. "Did I get anything in the mail?"
"On the desk." Greg wondered if this was how it was gonna be. Jill picked up a box and the mail and went out the door. Dianne put her hand on his foream. "I'm sorry. She's really having a rough time. I'm sure you are too."
He looked at Dianne. "Every time I think about what she said to me, I get less nostalgic and more angry. It didn't have to be like this."
Dianne was reluctant to agree with him, even though she knew he was probably right. "Something has scared her. I don't know what, but I'm pretty certain that's what's happened. I wish I could help more, but she really hasn't told me what's on her mind."
Greg didn't want to talk about it anymore. "Let's just get this finished, I've had a tough day, and I want to eat and sit down and relax."
Dianne picked up another box and was out the door. About a minute later, Jill was back, and now they were alone. "I put the stuff in the bedroom over in that closet by the door. And I washed what dirty clothes you had in the basket."
Jill's heart sank. She knew that he couldn't be cruel to her. It would be so much easier if he had just dumped everything in the street. At least then she could hate him. "Thanks."
"I think I got everything, but look around and see if there's anything of yours I missed."
"OK. I will."
An hour after they had left, Greg was reading when the phone rang. It was Stacy. "Hey, whatcha doin?"
"Reading and trying to decide if and what I want to eat. What's up with you?"
"Nothin. I just heard about you and Jill, thought I'd call to see how you were, maybe buy ya a drink if you wanted to talk."
Stacy lived about 5 blocks from Greg, but he hardly ever saw her outside of when the group did stuff. "Well, I guess if you're buying I can't refuse."
"The White Horse in about 20 minutes then?"
"Sure. See you there." Greg got up and changed out of the clothes he was still wearing from work. He was thinking that it was a good thing Maggie was having a rehersal, she wouldn't be at the bar. But what was Stacy up to? She didn't fit into Greg's idea of the compassionate shoulder to cry on. He would find out soon enough, he guessed.
Stacy saw him walking down the street as she waited outside the door. "You're late!" she hollered. He waited til he was right up to her before he laughed and answered. "It's hasn't even been twenty minutes yet. You must've walked out the door when you hung up."
"I'm very anal about being early. I even surprised my mother when I was born."
He held the door open for her and they took a table in the back room. Greg felt like every person in the place was looking at him. Then he thought if that was the case, they probably were looking at Stacy, because she was something to look at. She was the stereotype of the California surfer girl--waist-length, flaxen white blonde hair, and a dark tan she managed to keep even in New York. But Stacy was far from being an airhead; she was a certified genius: Summa Cum Laude at Princeton in Behavioral Science and Sociology, which she promptly ditched upon graduation in favor of her love for design. She made a good living as a graphic designer, but, by her own admission, she wasn't very arty. She needed challenges to keep her from becoming restless.
"How are you? Lisa told me what happened. That bitch. I knew she wasn't right for you."
Greg was surprised at her tone. "You're the first person I've heard say that."
She clasped her hands around his. "That was wrong for me to say. I'm sorry. You wanted to eat. You should order something."
They ended up not talking about Jill much at all. Greg listened to her tell about all the wild things she had done in her life, and remembered that he knew there had been a reason that Stacy was the only woman he'd ever met who he was outright afraid of; not in a physical sense, but because she was so uninhibited. Then she made a confession so out of the blue, Greg almost didn't know what to say. "Remember when we first met?"
Greg did. It was at a party not long after he'd moved to New York, and it was her first introduction to Eric, Greg and Mark. "Yeah, the party at the Lewis', right?"
She nodded her head. "If I could've figured out a way, I would have taken you home that night. If only one of us had had our own place at the time."
Greg raised an eyebrow. "I never would've imagined you ever thought about me."
She smiled. "Your loss was Mark's gain. But I always wondered what might happen between us. The timing was always wrong. Jill beat me to you, actually. I guess that's why I said what I did before."
"What is it about me that interested you so much?"
"You make me laugh. I love to laugh. You're sensible, and calculating and level-headed. Opposites attract ya know." She averted her eyes. "And while we're at it, I might as well tell you, there was a time we were playing football, and you pulled me down on top of you, to break my fall, as I remember."
Greg vaguely remembered the time she was talking about.
"Well, let's just say, I had a fantasy about that afterwards. I, uh, almost called out your name at a bad time."
They both had awkward looks on their faces, and Greg wasn't sure where this conversation was leading. "Uh, a walk. Fresh air. Exercise. A walk."
Stacy raised her eyes and nodded. Greg called for the bill.
Outside, Stacy spoke again. "You probably don't have any respect for me now at all. I feel like I'm in high school again, waiting for my braces to come off."
Greg put his arm around her shoulder and started to guide her along the street. "On the contrary, I have more respect for you now than I had before we started this conversation. I takes a lot of courage to be honest about your feelings. I would've never guessed you felt like this."
"What kind of feelings do you have?"
"I don't know. I always figured you couldn't have been too interested in me, we live closer to each other than any other two people, yet I never heard from you. I always thought you were too beautiful for me anyway."
"What's that supposed to mean? You don't think you deserve a hot chick? Someone who guys look at and think 'what's she see in him?'" She laughed. "Don't sell yourself short. There's more to life than being a boy-toy, and beauty is a matter of taste anyway. Look at Lisa. I think she is really naturally pretty. No, she is hot. She doesn't think so. She looks in a mirror and sees herself from high school, and won't allow the thought to cross her mind that she might be a knockout."
"What do you think of yourself?"
"I lucked out. The reality is, I could age really badly. Two of my aunts didn't progress well from their twenties to their forties. They look about a hundred now." She laughed again. "I want what's in my head to carry me through life. What I know is more important to me than what I look like. I'll never be defensive about my looks, but I don't go around thinking I'm special because of them."
She stopped and gave Greg a light jab in the ribs. "I want to tell you something about Jill, but I say this with no malicious intent. Girls like her are a dime a dozen. She's pretty and knows it. But I happen to know her secret. She likes bad-boys. They give her more excitement than nice guys like you. You can give her everything, but she still wants more. No one in their right mind would look at you--a man with a job, his own place, a car, for God's sake--and think that you weren't at least worth taking a chance on."
"What about you? You seem to attract your share of guys. What do you look for?"
"Good, bad. Makes no difference to me. As long as they are interesting to me, I'll give anything a shot. I'll tell you something the rest of them don't know. I've been with women before. I still like guys better. I think they are more interesting as companions."
They heard the thunder and began to walk again. Greg was starting to get a strange feeling. Stacy was making no secret about what she expected, but he wondered if he owed it to Maggie to resist. He was sure that Stacy was going to make it very difficult to say no to her, and he almost wished that all this had happened before he had met Maggie. But he remembered what they had agreed on from the start--there was no commitment involved, they weren't attached to each other. He wondered what a one-night stand would mean to his friendship with Stacy. They got to her building and it began to rain lightly. She solved the problem for him. "Greg, you and I aren't exactly innocents when it comes to this casual sex thing. We both know it. I don't know how I can make it clearer to you about what I want." She put her arms around his shoulders and gave him a deep passionate kiss. "Don't make me have to fantasize about you anymore. We might not ever have another chance."
He looked at her, the rain falling on her face, her brown eyes pleading with him. "I guess three years is long enough to make you wait." He pushed her towards the door.