Update on Like Glass and Shattered
First off: its official. Like Glass and Shattered will be published by HandE Media, a publisher based in the UK. I know I’ve mentioned it before, but now everything is signed, sealed, and delivered. (I’m posting this from my phone on my lunch break, or else I’d add a link to their site – I’ll try to remember to do it later.) As it stands right now though, we’re still looking at releasing Like Glass this fall in the UK, and bringing it back to this side of the Atlantic in 2011.
Shattered will most likely be released about a year after, but don’t hold me to that – I’m actually in the process of rewriting Shattered pretty much from scratch. The original draft of the story … well, let’s just say its decent, but it isn’t something I feel worth releasing. The story, I feel, is good, but it deserves more respect than I gave it initially.
I need to get back to work, so I’ll catch you on the flip side.
–Matt
Like Glass Editing – Round 1 Finished
Almost finished running through the first edits for Like Glass, and I’m stoked. Very few changes – not counting ‘translating’ from US to British English (most of which seemed to be replacing ‘z’ with ’s’, as in ‘realizing’ to ‘realising’). Very exciting to get it back from a ‘real’ editor and not have to rewrite the whole book…
Now, if only the same could be said for Shattered. Don’t get me wrong – they gave me a lot of great feedback and ideas, but there’s a ton of work that needs to be done to it and not a lot of time to do it in. I think I’m up for vacation at work here in a couple of months; I’ll have to see whether or not it’d be a good idea to spend that on editing or save it in case the wife and I try to take a ‘real’ vacation of some kind.
Anyways, I need to get back to finishing up the edits. Catch you on the flip side.
–Matt
Like Glass and Shattered To Be Published
Well, I haven’t written a whole lot on what’s going on with Like Glass in a while, and that’s mainly because I’m trying to learn from the mistake I made last year when I first thought I might have a publisher lined up. Namely, I started talking about the book getting published, then the deal fell through and I felt a bit like a jackass for getting so excited about it.
This time around, I’d promised myself I’d wait until everything was signed, sealed, and delivered before I made any kind of a fuss about it.
That said, I love setting myself up to look like an idiot, so I’m going to break that promise to myself 
Here’s what’s happening (keep in mind that this is still preliminary, though most of the details have been worked out as far as I’m aware):
1) Like Glass will be published by H and E Publishers in the U.K. with a release date set for November 25th, 2010. (In an earlier post, I’d said it was going to be 2011; they were able to fit it into next year though.) A U.S. release date is pending, but it will probably be about a year after the U.K. release.
2) Shattered will be published by H and E Publishers, though no details regarding the release have been set. Odds are (and this is just a guess — this hasn’t been discussed at all) it’ll probably be released in the U.K. a year after Like Glass, and in the U.S. a year after Like Glass is released in the U.S.
3) If I can ever get around to working on Broken Peaces, the third book in the series, H and E will probably handle that one too. Since this book hasn’t even been written yet, don’t expect any release details any time soon.
I don’t have any other details worth giving at the moment, but I will post what I can whenever there’s something worth posting.
Need to get back to having a lazy Saturday, so I’ll catch you on the flip side.
–Matt
A Spark Arises
Well, the old fires are starting to spark up again. Maybe it’s because it’s nearing November, which as any writer who’s spent any reasonable time online can tell you, is NaNoWriMo. Maybe it’s just the changing of the weather — colder days seem to draw out the creative juices a little better for me for some reason. Or maybe it’s just because I’ve taken enough time away from it that I’m starting to miss it and get tired of coding all day again.
Regardless of the reason, the writer in me is starting to stir around again, and I’m once again fleshing out ideas for Broken Peaces. Of course, I’ve still got to get Shattered up to specs, but I think most of Shattered is pretty solid. It needs some clean up — there’s a lot of typos and a lot of stuff that could be worded better — but it’s … well … solid.
The main thing I’m having a bit of trouble with right now is how to come up with a story that can top the drama in Shattered. Like I said quite a bit last year, Shattered is a lot darker than Like Glass was. A lot darker. I was re-reading the last third or so of the novel today, wanting to bring myself back up to speed on that world so I can dig into Broken Peaces, and I was pleasantly surprised at it. It’d been a long time since I’d looked through any of it, let alone the tail end where things really go to hell, and while I’d remembered the genera idea of the plot (i.e. who does what to whom and for how much), I’d forgotten the overall gist of it. It’s kinda like the difference between just hearing a song’s melody and hearing the song with the full band behind it.
Anyways, I’ve got a couple of decent ideas for things that could … well … go wrong. And let’s face it: stories where things go right are pretty boring — something has to go wrong in order to get your interest. The girl has to dump the guy. The aliens have to invade. The super villain has to have his plot to destroy the world unless the world governments are going to pay … one million dollars (where the hell is the Dr. Evil pinky-to-cheek emoticon when you need it?). Otherwise, it’s a yawn fest.
And for what it’s worth, I already know how Broken Peaces is going to end. It’s just a matter of getting there — the journey’s the best part.
It’s going to be interesting to see how I’m going to pull it together though, now that I’m working full time at a job I actually enjoy. When I wrote Like Glass, I was working from home, so I could write while I had some down time. When I wrote Shattered last year, I was taking a leave of absence for personal reasons. Where I’m at now though, I couldn’t take the time off, nor do I even really want to — the job’s actually pretty good.
That probably also has a lot to do with how I’m looking at Broken Peaces and why I’m having such a hard time getting my brain fired up for it. I’m in a much better mind set than I was when I wrote Like Glass, and worlds better than when I wrote Shattered. Now I don’t quite have the same emotions to build from, so getting the juices flowing is going to be a lot different this time around than last time.
At least there’s one thing in my favor for this: I’d never planned on Broken Peaces being anywhere near as dark as Shattered. Probably not as dark as Like Glass either, but definitely much lighter than the last venture into Rob’s world. So that should make it a bit easier to get going. We’ll see though.
Well, I’ve got about three weeks to get things in order before NaNoWriMo starts, so hopefully that’ll be enough time to get the fires lit properly and get some good ideas flowing.
In the meantime though, it’s nigh on bedtime, and I’ve got a couple of projects due at work in the next couple of weeks, so I’d better start heading along. Catch you on the flip side.
–Matt
Another Day In Paradise
Okay, got up way too early this morning for a Monday, but it’s all good: one of the downsides of trying to work with someone in the UK is the ~7 hour time difference, but over the years I’ve become more of a morning person than I used to be. Coffee is my friend, and it’s a friend I cherish deeply.
Nothing really to report on the publishing deal yet, except for the fact I’ve discovered how different mailing addresses are in the US vs. those in the UK. The publisher wants a hard copy of Like Glass, and the other day I tried to start an order from Amazon to get an idea of how much it cost. Fifteen minutes later, I think I might have gotten it to accept their address, but I’m a little leary of sending it out. For roughly $50 total (w/ S&H), I’d really rather not take a chance on it coming back and having to send it again.
Also, I’m wanting to discuss the options we might have available for working on Shattered and Broken Peaces together — those are the other two books in the Like Glass series. We’ll see what happens with that. Not really getting my hopes up, but hey: stranger things have happened, right? At least Shattered is technically finished. It’s a mess at the moment, but mainly because I haven’t had any need to work on it (and I’ve had more pressing issues to deal with, like “real” life). If there were interest in it, I could probably have it polished up to a pleasant shine in a couple of months. Broken Peaces, now… that would take a little time. But hey, even if we signed the contract today, Like Glass wouldn’t come out for another couple of years, then Shattered would have to make it’s rounds, probably a year or so after Like Glass, and then we’d have to worry about where the final book in the trilogy is.
Aside from that though, things are trucking along. Work’s getting … interesting, to say the least, and quite hectic as project deadlines loom.
The missus and I are moving — did I mention that? Nothing major, just moving across town. Cheaper rent, and I’ll be a little closer to my old stomping grounds. Longer drive to and from work, but you can’t have everything, can you? Gonna get that taken care of this weekend — thankfully we’ve got some movers lined up, and that’ll make things a lot nicer.
Other than that, just another day in paradise. Need to start getting ready to get back into the grind, so I’ll catch you on the flip side.
–Matt
Like Glass Update
Okay, don’t have much time so I’ll try to make this quick.
It’s been a while since I really said anything about Like Glass (that’s my novel, if you don’t know). I’ve been trying to move on, focus on work and “real life” for a while. Things have been moving a little bit in the background though, and I thought I’d share some of the details as to where it’s going right now.
Actually, “where it’s going” is interesting enough in it’s own right. It’s “going” across the Atlantic to England, where a British publishing company has decided to pick it up. Right now, they’re currently looking at a UK release of 2011, with a US release of 2012. That gives me the warm fuzzies — I’m going to be an internationally published author before much longer
It’s still really early in the game though — nothing’s been signed or anything, just “verbal” (well, email) discussion about it — so I can’t really say much of anything else. But trust me, I’ll keep you posted as things happen (either on here or on Facebook — look me up if you’re on there, and if you want to “friend” me, add a personal message to let me know you came from my blog or else I might not accept if I don’t already know you).
Alright, need to run to work. Catch you on the flip side.
–Matt
Early Morning = Time to Post
Damn, I’m really not doing that great of a job of keeping up with this thing, am I? 
Been a month and a half since my last “post”, which was just a JavaScript tip, and my last “real” post was a week before that.
Well, I can honestly say that things have been really hectic around here for quite some time, and it doesn’t look like they’ll be calming down anytime soon. Hell, I’m only posting now because I woke up at about 5:30 this morning, and I was able to get all my Facebook games out of the way with time to spare before I go to work.
Things are, as I said, pretty damned hectic right now. The Mrs. and I are moving (once again), which is always fun. I’m running two projects at work that need to be done last month, and I’ve got two more on the back-burner, where we’re waiting for some consultations to finish up. Once that gets done, I’ll be working on four projects. Throw into the mix the desire to try and keep up some semblence of a home life going, as well as the Facebook games I mentioned above, and I’m surprised I get any sleep at all.
No time for writing with all of that, of course, but trust me: it’s always in the back of my mind. I’ve thrown around tons of different story/novel ideas in the past few months, but none of them really seem to stick. Of course, they may all have turned out to be great projects to work on had I just sat down and started them, but of course I didn’t and none of them would stick after the fact.
That’s been one of the things I’ve tried to keep in mind — if there’s something I really want to work on, some idea that really sounds fantastic, then the idea just won’t leave me. It may fade out now and then, but it’ll always come back. I haven’t had any plot ideas that do that for me yet.
I’m sure they’ll pop back around when the time is right; at the moment, I’ve just got too much else on my plate. Or, another way of looking at it: I’m not quite as motivated to work on anything just yet. Last year, when I decided to work on Shattered (the sequel to Like Glass that I may-or-may-not ever release), I hated my job and wasn’t doing terribly well, psychologically speaking. This year, I actually like my job, and I’m in a much better frame of mind to boot. At the moment, I’m fairly content with my lot in life, and I don’t see any reason to put the kind of pressure on that’s required to toss out a novel.
Of course, that’s subject to change without notice…
Oh, and by the way, there’s a slim chance that there might be some news regarding Like Glass over the next couple of weeks. I’m not counting any chickens yet, but I want to throw that out there for you. And I’ve learned my lesson from past experiences: you will hear absolutely nothing more until everything is completely confirmed on all sides (although I may explain what’s going on if things fall through). So, stay tuned for that.
Anyways, I need to start getting ready for work. Catch you on the flip side.
–Matt
Some Explanation Seems In Order
Okay, I’ve gotten several emails about yesterday’s news, and I want to set some things straight and explain some other things.
First, I’m not quitting writing. Not at all. At most, I’m taking a bit of a break at the moment. I know I quit at least once a month; this isn’t one of those times. February’s almost here, so you won’t have to wait long
Second, I know that giving Like Glass away for free pretty much reduces the odds of it ever getting picked up by a publisher to roughly nil. That’s something I discovered the hard way – even just self publishing it and charging people to read it pretty much shot down most possibilities of it getting picked up. Yes, there’s still a chance a publisher or an agent would take it on, but there’s a better chance I’d win the lottery tonight – even without buying a ticket.
Now, I want to explain a couple of things, not the least of which is why I’m so pessimistic about getting a publisher or an agent. It’s really simple: I’m not a salesman. I’ve never been a salesman, and I don’t want to be a salesman. That’s a part of the writing industry you can keep; I want absolutely no part of it, and if it means I’m stuck writing software the rest of my life, well, so be it.
That’s part of the reason I’m releasing Like Glass for free as well – I can’t sell it to save my life, so I’m not going to sell it. If you want to buy a copy, it’s still available on Amazon. I’m not going to ask for your money though.
Having self-published the novel to begin with, I made an already Herculean task nigh on impossible. It’d take someone capable of selling igloos to Eskimos to get an agent or publisher interested in the novel, and I’m not that person. Again, I don’t want to be that person. Sales and marketing suit some people perfectly, but those are two things I refuse to do any more (other than spamming my status on Twitter and Facebook).
What does this mean for Shattered? I don’t know, in all honesty. I may self-pub it as I’d been planning on doing. Maybe some publisher or agent will come across Like Glass and find enough interest to take Shattered on (not likely). Maybe I’ll just release it for free too, get it out of the way so I can focus on something else. I’ll have to sleep on it, and see what kind of interest Like Glass stirs up.
If anyone else has anymore questions, please feel free to ask. I’ll respond as quickly as possible. Thanks!
Catch you on the flip side.
–Matt
Like Glass: Now Available For Free
Alright, here’s the deal. I’ve been fighting with this book for over a year now, trying to get people to read it. I self-published it thinking that would make it easier to get an agent or a publisher, when it only made things more difficult in an industry that’s already near impossible to get into. I’ve tried spreading the word via various social networks, tried interviews, the book’s gotten great reviews, and still nothing.
I’m tired of it. I’m not any kind of marketing specialist — I absolutely abhor trying to sell anything. It goes against my nature. I hate asking people for money, even in exchange for something. That’s just not who I am, and I’m sorry for all the damned spamming I’ve done over the past few months on Facebook and Twitter. I wish I could justify it in any way, but all I can say is that I get impatient watching the visit counts stay flat on this stupid site.
So, without further bullshitting, I hereby give anyone who’s willing to read it a free copy of Like Glass. You can download it here; I’m going to try and put up a side-bar item for future downloading as well. I hope you enjoy; drop me a line if you finish it and let me know what you thought.
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Like Glass: Chapter 3
If you’re just barely joining us, catch up with Chapter 1 here and Chapter 2 here. Remember: there’ll be a random drawing on Sunday, February 1st for a free digital copy of the novel, so make sure to leave a comment!
Between thoughts of Janet’s hair dancing in the streetlights (entirely imagined; he’d paid rather little attention to her hair once they’d started walking) and his incessant self-cursing for not even asking for her phone number, it was quite some time before Rob’s mind had let him rest that night. He woke the next morning around noon, and went straight to the TV, flipping through the handful of channels he actually received on the cheap television’s built-in antenna. He turned it off after hour, worked up the nerve to open his political science book, closed it, and turned the TV back on. He repeated this process several times before giving up.
It just wasn’t any use; he had a hard enough time focusing on the books as it was, let alone with his new distraction dancing gracefully in the back of his mind. Not that he had any idea how Janet danced, but he didn’t let that stop his imagination. Knowing that sitting in front of the television with his books in front of him was pointless, he changed into some mostly-clean jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed some of the music Dr. Bishop had assigned him, and headed to the practice rooms on campus.
Regardless of his lack of study habits in other academic areas, he practiced regularly, almost religiously. Although much of the time he hardly considered it “practice”—he just liked to play—his near constant desire to “hit the rooms” had placed him head and shoulders above much of the fellow pianists at the school.
He considered himself fairly lucky, living only a half mile from the college, saving him worries about parking (as well as much of the necessity for a car). He walked under the warm spring sky, mostly overcast but bright and unthreatening, humming softly to himself and letting his mind wander.
It was a walk he took often, so he was able to make the short journey in the mindless motions of habit, his feet tracing the same steps they’d made countless times. Oblivious to the world around him, his mind bounced back and forth between trying to decide what he’d work on in practice, the tests he was supposed to be studying for, and Janet, never staying on one subject or the other for too long.
Without realizing he’d finished the short walk, he opened the door to the large, single story faux-adobe building that housed most of the fine arts departments and traced the familiar path through the maze of offices and lecture rooms to the handful of small, soundproof nooks that housed the pianos. Finding all of them unoccupied—entirely normal for a Saturday, as most of the other students were tending to their own weekend business—he chose one with a fairly well-kept baby grand and shut the door behind him. After an obligatory flourish of scales and arpeggios for a pretense of warming up, he played.
As he played, his mind let go of Janet and studying. With the echoes of the piano strings bouncing off the acoustic tiling and his arms and fingers racing like mad up and down the keys, his head cleared and nothing existed but the music. He paused only long enough in between pieces to decide the next one to play, sometimes from the music he’d brought, sometimes from memory, sometimes entirely improvised.
When he finished, he smiled at the keys and gently pulled the cover shut. He knew he’d probably never make a dime as a pianist—a fact his mother constantly reminded him of—but he didn’t care. Part of him even looked forward to living the starving-artist lifestyle, the romanced version shown in movies where the artist is always penniless but somehow able to buy food and pay rent.
“I thought that was you,” a woman said from behind him, startling him. Caught up in the music, he hadn’t heard Dr. Bishop open the door. He turned to see her smiling in the doorway.
“Hi professor. I didn’t think you’d be here today.”
“Ah, how easily they forget,” she said in mock exasperation. He said nothing, just looked at her curiously. “The concert? Tomorrow night? I figured you’d forgotten, since you weren’t playing your ballade. Either that or you were trying to forget.”
“No, I’d forgotten about it. Had some…other things on my mind.”
“I see. Well, now you can remember. The Rachmaninoff is sounding good, by the way. You’re still running your triplets together a little, but it’s better than it was last month.” He blushed slightly at her praise. “How is the ballade going, anyways? Are you still having problems with the end?”
“A little.”
“Well, I’m not supposed to do this ‘after hours’, but I need a break—I’m getting tired of going over the scholarship applications. Run through it once and let me see how it’s going.”
He played the ballade for her once, his arms already tired from his earlier practice but able to keep it going until the last notes bounced dully off the acoustic paneling. When he finished, she smiled and nodded at him.
“Robert, that was excellent. You’ll do fine.”
“The ending?”
“You hit one bad note; that’s it. It’s one of Chopin’s most challenging pieces—I know concert pianists who wouldn’t have gotten it quite that well. You’re going to do great tomorrow. In fact…no, I better not tell you.” She gave him a sly smile. He looked at her, puzzled.
“What’s going on?”
“Well, I didn’t want to say anything, especially when you were already worried about the piece, but…” She sighed, resigning herself to say what she’d apparently thought better to hold in. “You remember meeting Roger Smolenska, from the symphony?”
Rob nodded cautiously; Smolenska was the music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra. Dr. Bishop had introduced the two of them in September, before the orchestra had started its season and was visiting the music department to offer lessons and advice.
“Well, Mr. Smolenska is going to be there tomorrow night, looking for bright young musicians—pianists in this case—for an internship next year. I’d specifically suggested he come tomorrow night, instead of sending Blankenship—their keyboard chair—to watch you.” She laughed as his eyes grew large. “No pressure Robert, you’ll do great.”
“Yeah, no pressure at all.”
After a few moments of trying to be responsible and ignoring whoever might be trying to sell him new phone service or refinance his house, he grabbed the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Hey, you sorry son of a bitch.”
“Hi Bill.” Rob struggled to remember why he’d once thought it a good idea to give his brother his phone number. He knew there must’ve been a good reason at some time, but he was at a loss.
“Hey, sorry about your date last night.”
“Yeah, what happened?”
“She got tied up. You wouldn’t have liked her anyways; she’s terrible in the sack.”
“Well, why’d you bother?”
“I didn’t know until last night. Anyways, where were you? I tried to call you after she left, about nine.”
He started to answer and stopped himself. For some reason, it didn’t seem like a good idea to tell his brother about his new friend.
“Out.”
“Who was she?”
“Am I that transparent?”
“Like glass. The only reason you won’t tell me what’s up is if it involves a girl. So what happened? You bang her?”
“No, I didn’t. Just a girl I met at the coffee shop while I was being stood up by what’s her name.”
“Christy. Why didn’t you bang her?” That was Bill, the hopeless romantic.
“Man, I just met her last night.”
“So? Is she a dyke or something?”
“No, just…”
“Relax, I’m just busting your sack man. Anyways, what do you got going on tonight?” Rob looked around at his room, his eyes catching the poorly stacked pile of textbooks on his desk.
“I need to study; I’ve got four tests this week. Big ones.”
“Whatever bitch. C’mon, let’s go out. Get drunk, get some chicks, pass out. Maybe even in that order this time.”
“Sorry Bill, I can’t.”
“Whatever man. I’ll be over there in an hour.”
“Not tonight, I really can’t. We’ll hang out some other time. I really need to study tonight.”
“Alright, whatever. I’ll call you later.” Bill hung up before he had a chance to mention the concert.
He did need to study, but, as earlier, was having a hard time concentrating. His mind kept drifting past the books and the impending concert to a certain girl behind the coffee shop counter. He eyed his text books.
This is the stupidest excuse in the world. You know that, right? And he did know that. He kept that thought planted firmly in his mind as he dressed, grabbed his books, and started out the door.
By the time he arrived at the coffee shop it was still early enough in the evening for a fair amount of daylight, though the spring air was starting to chill. Before much longer, he knew this time of day would be miserably hot, but for now it was pleasant as he sat on the patio outside.
He’d ordered his coffee, passing behind Janet as she helped a customer at one of the tables. The man at the counter—probably a nice and interesting guy but nowhere near as pretty as Janet—gave him his coffee and took his money before Rob walked back out to sit down and enjoy a cigarette in the light April breeze. Because that’s all he was there for: just a smoke and some coffee while he studied. Like any other customer. Of course.
He gazed intently at his political science book, going back and forth from one meaningless column of text to another as he sat, sipping his coffee and smoking. After half an hour of carrying on this charade, a familiar laugh came from behind him like an old friend.
“This is quite interesting. Fancy seeing you around these parts again, stranger. Refill?” Janet stood over him suddenly, a knowing smile on her face and a pot of coffee in her hand.
“Sure, I think I’d like that. On the coffee too, if you don’t mind.” As soon as he spoke, he thought there was little else he could’ve said that would have been quite so stupid, but she laughed coyly at him.
“Well, we’ll work on the coffee for now. Find your way home okay last night?”
“Yeah, I managed.”
“I’ll bet.” She filled his coffee cup again and he thanked her.
“Listen, uh, Janet, I was wondering…” She stopped and looked at him expectantly, still smiling. “Um, do you have any plans tonight?”
“Well, I don’t know…I guess it depends on why you’re asking.”
“I…uh…I wanted to see if you wanted to do something, maybe catch a movie or something like that.”
“Hmmmm… I don’t know. I have that dinner with the governor, and I am about to go on tour to promote my new CD and fashion line, but I think I can fit you in somewhere.” He laughed softly.
“When could I pick you up?”
“I get off in fifteen minutes—Raoul’s closing up tonight. I think City of Angels is playing down the street, if you want to see it.”
“Sounds great.” She could’ve suggested they spend the evening slowly removing layers of his skin and rinsing him in battery acid; it still would’ve sounded great at the moment.
“Are we walking? It’s not a problem if we are,” she added quickly, placing a reassuring hand on his arm as a brief flush came over his face. “I just want to know so I know whether to put on heels or flats.”
“Yeah, I think we’ll probably be walking tonight.”
“Great. So, give me about an hour, maybe? So I can change. Just meet me at my house.”
“Sounds great. I’ll see you then.” She smiled at him, a warm, deep smile that seemed to come straight from the heart.
“Great. I need to get back to work.” As if to enforce this point, Raoul (or at least who Rob assumed was Raoul) started yelling at her from inside. She rolled her eyes, gave him another quick flash of that deep smile, and rushed back inside.
Rob left his half-finished coffee steaming on the table and hurried home. He showered quickly, changed back into his slacks from the night before, and found a different slightly-wrinkled shirt.
He searched wildly for enough cash to make the night at least somewhat decent, and finally found a total of twenty-three dollars and seventy-two cents. They wouldn’t be making a big night of it—probably have to get the cheap limo and only two bottles of Dom Perignon. But they’d at least get into the show and have enough cash for some snacks and a soda. With just enough time to make it to her house as she finished getting ready, he started out the door.
The movie had been decent, what little of it Rob remembered. He’d spent most of the night in an embarrassing school-boy daze, wondering if he should grab her hand or put his arm around her. In the end, he had merely spent the movie sitting there thinking.
Walking home with her was more comfortable by far than sitting next to her in the theater. He was quite thankful he’d paid some attention to the movie, as Janet had thought it quite worth talking about. While he wasn’t giving a review worthy of Siskel and Ebert, he managed to hold up his end as they walked under the few stars and the streetlights of the city. Before long though, the moment he’d dreaded had come, and they found themselves in front of her house again.
“Seems shorter from the movies.”
She smiled; he was starting to love that smile. “Yeah, well, I figured I couldn’t pull that one on you two nights in a row.”
“You should have. It was nice.”
She looked up at him, the gravity in her eyes contrasting with the friendly smile below. “Yes, it was.” They stared at each other for a moment, neither wishing to speak, both wanting to say something.
Finally, Rob broke the silence with the only thing that came to mind. “It’s getting late, I should be going.”
“Well, wait. Would you like to come in? Maybe for some coffee or something?”
“I think I’ve had a bit too much coffee for a couple of days now.” She laughed. He was starting to love that laugh too.
“Well, maybe not coffee, but just come in, hang out?”
“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
“Me too.” She took his hand and led him inside.
The inside of chez Edwards was far from spotless, but it still made his humble abode seem like the work of an abstract sculptor working in laundry and used pizza boxes. Rob found it to be quite comfortable; a few plates left on the coffee table, some pots piled up in the kitchen sink, a few jackets scattered on the floor. For some reason he’d been sure the place would be fresh from a Home and Garden photo shoot, and a bit of clutter relaxed him.
At least, as relaxed as he could have been after an attractive young woman invited him into her home after their first date. If she saw through him now, saw that his mind was racing with many potential (and very adolescent) scenarios of what would happen next, he’d be explaining the red, hand-shaped mark on his face for months to come.
If she saw through him, though, she gave no sign. Neither did she seem very nervous about having a strange young man in her house and apparently alone with her. She also didn’t jump on him and start ripping off his clothes either, which was somewhat unfortunate—his adolescent fantasies would have to wait a little longer.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink? I can make some coffee; I think we have tea, or soda.” She stood just outside the kitchen, the overhead light behind her turning her into a graceful silhouette. He didn’t realize he was speechless until he heard her speak again, the smile evident in her voice, with a slight touch of concern coloring it.
“Rob? You okay?”
“Yeah, uh, tea will be fine.”
“Okay. Go ahead and have a seat.” Her silhouetted hand motioned behind him, and he turned and sat down on the couch. Moments later she returned with two glasses of iced tea, turned on the lamp, and sat at the opposite end of the couch, her knees up to her chest and her feet towards him. “Could you hand me the remote?” She pointed towards the coffee table, near where he was sitting. After a moment’s searching, he found it right in front of him and handed it to her. She turned on the television.
“Never anything good on,” she said after flipping through the channels for a few moments. Rob sipped nervously at his tea—it was good, not the best he’d ever had, but still good. Not that he’d complain anyways.
His mind struggled for something to say and drew a blank. Finally she found a halfway decent comedy and set the remote down. He soon found himself laughing with her, feeling more at home in less than a half hour at her house than he had in the months since he’d moved into his own place.
After a few moments, he noticed something wrong, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Then it dawned on him: Janet wasn’t laughing anymore. He glanced over at her, meeting a somewhat shocked stare.
As he realized he’d been rubbing her feet and stopped, he also realized that her surprised expression wasn’t one of disgust, but that of one who just found a letter in the mail from a nearly forgotten but well loved friend.
“No, no, don’t stop! My feet were killing me.” He blushed slightly, but smiled and resumed his work.
“My mom used to be a waitress for a while,” he said in a feeble attempt at playing it off. “I know it’s a little tough on the feet.”
“Well, you do a great job. If you can do windows, you’re hired. If you can do the dishes and you look good in a Speedo while you’re doing them, we might even let you have some table scraps every once in a while.” He squeezed her foot harder and she let out a squealing laugh he found almost as beautiful as her normal laughter. “Okay, table scraps every night.” He squeezed again, and she squealed louder. “No Speedo, either! Okay? No Speedo!”
“Deal,” he agreed, both of them laughing now. Once they calmed down, he asked one of the questions that had been burning in the back of his mind since she invited him inside.
“So, where’s…?” He couldn’t think of the name, but Janet finished for him.
“Lisa? She’s at a party. So to answer the question I know you’ll ask next and the one I know you won’t: yes, we’re alone, and no, you’re not getting any.” He blushed fiercely at this, although he hadn’t thought he had planned to ask either of those. She laughed again; from anyone else he would have found that laugh at that time to be mocking, but from her it was still beautiful. “Relax tiger; I know you’re a guy and the thought has probably crossed your mind quite a bit since we came in.”
Rob said nothing, but smiled a thin, sheepish smile.
“I wanted to say something earlier and get it out of the way, but there wasn’t a chance without sounding like a bitch. So, now that’s out in the open, do you think we can relax a little?”
He found that they could.
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