And the better he’d gotten to know the wonderful woman she’d grown up to be, the guiltier he’d felt about it. He’d been blameless as far as he could tell, happening to be walking down the hall at just the right moment when Clara had left her bedroom door ajar, but still.
Was it really the long, lovely chats that had inspired him to buy the rose that was now clutched in his left hand as he rang her doorbell? Or on some level was he still the horny guy of before hoping to see more this time around?
“Hel-lo!” came her familiar voice, too cheerful by half, clearly expecting a friend and nothing more. Even Pete could have seen that!
“Uh…hi, Martha,” he stammered, feeling a throwback to his even younger years. This was worse than a junior high dance.
“Denny, you look frigid out there!” Martha teased. “Come on up and let’s get you warmed up!”
The door buzzed, and Denny was equal parts joy and angst as he stepped into the warm lobby. There was an old ashtray set under the prominent no-smoking sign, that could clearly double as a trash can. He paused and looked at the package in his hand. Clearly a mistake, and at least a rose would brighten up the drab lobby a bit. He almost unwrapped the paper, then recalled in the nick of time what Martha had just said — You look frigid out there. She must have seen him — and the package.
The damage was done. Maybe they could have a laugh over the whole thing — to think she would bother with her friend’s pesky little kid brother anyway! Denny bit his lip and went up the stairs.
Martha opened the door a crack to let Denny in, and retreated to the kitchen to take the muffins out of the oven. She was feeling utterly tickled by what she thought she had seen on the intercom camera. When was the last time anyone had given her flowers? She couldn’t even recall offhand. There was time for one last quick look at herself in the mirror by the kitchen door as she stepped back out. She saw nothing wrong, but was still feeling like a schoolgirl at her first dance when the soft but firm knock came at the door.
“Denny? It’s open, silly!” Then just as quickly she wished she could take it back — all at once she recalled why he wouldn’t assume her door was open. Poor guy still probably had no idea.
Silly or not, at least she had a welcoming smile as he stepped in — a smile that was more than reciprocated when he got his first look at her. “Wow, you look beautiful!” Then he shook his head and cringed. “I mean — I’m sorry! Just…”
“Sorry for what, that I’m beautiful?” Martha said. “And thank you! Take your coat and boots off already!” As Denny complied and lay the oddly shaped package on the old chair by the door — she now saw it was just what she’d suspected, for the paper was covered with a flower shop logo — she felt the same pang of self-doubt she always felt with wonderful guys like him. Maybe he was meeting another woman later who wasn’t just an old friend.
“Well, no,” Denny said, pulling his boots off. “I just meant, I didn’t want you getting the wrong idea, is all.”
“The wrong idea about what, Denny?”
“You know, about Valentine’s Day, and we’re just old friends, and…”
“You haven’t been talking to your sister, have you?”
“No need to,” Denny said. “I know what she thinks of Valentine’s Day! Does she know about us, by the way?”
“I certainly haven’t told her,” Martha said. “She’d never understand, I know that too.”
“Right,” Denny said. “I just didn’t want you to think I had the wrong idea, about what day it is.” His eyes darted briefly to the package he’d left on the chair — only for an instant, but Martha noticed.
She couldn’t resist asking — if it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, at least she would know. “Speaking of which, have you got a hot date later, is that who that’s for?”
Denny bit his lip. Honesty was still the best policy. “Well, no,” he confessed, picking it up and handing it to her. “It’s for you.”
“Thank you!” She helped herself to a hug before opening it. “Oh, Denny, it’s beautiful!” She pulled it out of the wrapper and sniffed it indulgently. “But, yellow…is that a hint? I mean, if you want to be just friends, I’ll understand, but I was hoping…”
“You were?” Denny felt like a weight had just vanished from his shoulders.
Martha laughed, also feeling relieved. “Didn’t you say I was beautiful? You think I’d dress up like this for just any friend?”
“I just didn’t want to assume, you know, didn’t want you to think I was only making friends with you to get more.”
“You are your sister’s brother!” Martha spun around, enjoying the graceful swish of her skirt and hoping he liked it too. “I’m going to put this in some water, you sit down and pour us some wine, all right?”
“All right,” Denny agreed. “And yeah. I am my sister’s brother, but that’s not the worst of it. I also listened to a friend I really shouldn’t have listened to. About women, about romance, and friend zones.”
“God, please don’t tell me you believe in that ‘friend zone’ nonsense!” Martha called from the kitchen, where she was setting the muffins in a basket. “Who ever said love couldn’t grow out of friendship?”
“Thank you!” Denny poured the wine carefully, and had both glasses ready when Martha returned. “And now that I know it’s okay to say it, you really do look gorgeous. That should’ve been a hint, I know.”
“Thanks, and yeah, it should.” Martha couldn’t help herself. “If I had only friendship on my mind, I’d have greeted you at the door in a t-shirt and sweats. And the kind of guy you were afraid of looking like wouldn’t have been discouraged with that, either!”
“I know the type,” Denny said. “Too well!”
“And you ought to know by now I know you’re not that type!” Martha threw caution to the wind and sat right up next to him on the couch, and kissed his cheek. “Now, cards on the table, Denny, do you want to stay just friends?”
“Not if you don’t!” He gave her a boyish grin and picked up his glass for a first sip.
Martha followed suit. “Wonderful. I mean, I don’t want to pressure you, but…I mean, I’ve had such a lovely time getting to know you again, and I always did think you were adorable.”
“You did?”
“I couldn’t very well flirt with you when I was over your place with your sister, could I?” She let out a naughty giggle. “Not openly anyway.”
“Not openly,” Denny repeated uncertainly. Then all at once he wasn’t uncertain at all. “Wait a minute, that time I walked past Clara’s room?”
“Was no accident!” Now Martha laughed hard, so hard she had to set her wine glass down. “I’m sorry, Denny, all these years I didn’t even know if you’d seen me…”
“Oh, I saw you all right!” Denny confessed. “And I replayed that sight again and again for I don’t even know how long when I…you know.”
“Oh my!” Martha felt herself getting wet. “I was my friend’s gorgeous brother’s reason to masturbate?”
“Gorgeous?” Denny grinned. “Well, thanks. But you can’t be surprised seeing you in your bra turned me on!”
“No, I guess not,” Martha said. “I just never knew for sure that you’d seen me, or that you liked what you saw.
“I did and I did.” He clinked her glass and they each had a long drink. Denny helped himself to a muffin to break the growing tension and complimented her on a great baking job, but it did little to diffuse the pleasant foreboding that hung heavy in the air.
“Got the recipe from a friend who graduated last year,” Martha said. “She called them her dissertation muffins, because she kept tweaking the recipe every time she finished another chapter of her thesis.”
“If I ever get that far, I’ll at least be able to make dinner,” Denny said. “I’m getting better at boiling the vegetables just long enough, anyway. It beats the cafeteria.”
Martha polished off her muffin and then made fast work of the last of her wine. “Good for you, Denny, but listen. Do you really want to revert to small talk?”
Denny laughed. “Well, I’m not supposed to just say I want to make love, now am I?”
“Why the heck not?” Martha said. “Whoever said there had to be so many mind games when it came to sex?” She slid an arm around his back and placed her other hand on his knee, and hoped he would kiss her already.
Without another word, her wish came true.
The pleasant itch Martha had been feeling for a week or more melted into a deep satisfaction as she felt his arms enfold her, but an utterly more intense desire took over. Feeling his hands trace the band of her bra through her sweater, all at once she longed to be relieved of both. But for the moment she focused on rubbing his back with one hand and his head with the other.
After contenting himself with rubbing her back and sides for some time, Denny wanted to pull her onto his lap. Recalling just in time that she was taller than he was, he instead swung around and climbed onto her lap, facing and straddling her. Martha welcomed the pleasant frustration of him pressing her thighs together as the warm wetness between them was growing more intense by the second, exacerbated by his first gentle caresses on her breasts. That sweet torture would be satiated soon enough, after all. For the moment she contented herself with unbuttoning his shirt and eagerly pushing it off his chest. Finding a faded t-shirt underneath, she gathered it up and pulled it off without a second thought, hoping he would follow her lead with her own clothes.