by L. B. Dunbar
“I grew up in a house of boys and one sister, and running in the house drove my mother crazy.” Charlie smiles to himself, opening the box before me. “I always thought I’d have a house full of kids to do the same to me.”
There’s sadness in his voice as he turns for a cabinet and reaches for a plate. I don’t really want pizza, but I should eat. Charlie places two slices on the dish and then reaches for a bottle of wine on the counter.
“Red okay?”
I nod. I could definitely use wine.
“It’s really none of my business, but why don’t you have a house full of children?” Charlie is extremely good-looking. There’d be no reason not to take him to bed and be impregnated continuously with the vigor of him.
“Angela didn’t want children.” Charlie lowers his voice as he pulls a glass from a cabinet. Turning to face me, he softly speaks. “She didn’t even want Lucy.”
“That’s horrible,” I whisper before I have time to think. There are always reasons women don’t want children, and I try not to judge, but motherhood is one of the greatest gifts. “I’m sorry, that was insensitive.”
“She wanted an abortion. I wouldn’t let her do it.”
I gasp. Aborting Vega had never even crossed my mind when I found out I was pregnant, and to my surprise, Richard asked me to marry him. For his reputation. A family gives a good impression.
“I’m sorry,” I say, uncertain what else to say.
“Angela was very driven, and although we were married, she did not want a child. We’d been married only a year when she got pregnant. As soon as she told me and I convinced her to keep it, I decided to come home. I wanted to raise my child here, and the best way to convince Angela to move was to make it political, so I decided to run for mayor.”
I stare up at him as I reach for my wine. I didn’t know these things about him. In fact, I still don’t know much about him at all, other than how me makes me physically feel and the fact he’s giving me a chance to run his town’s park district.
“It worked in my favor. Young couple. Baby on the way. It was meant to be a notch in my career, but when I ran for a second term, Angela was upset. She had an affair and almost ruined me. The town didn’t have faith in a mayor who couldn’t keep his wife under control.”
I gasp. “People did not say that.”
“Oh, they did. I almost lost, but my opponent wasn’t from Blue Ridge, and that made all the difference to the town. Amid scandalous photographs and a public divorce, I became mayor again, and I’m obviously still here.” Charlie has been serving for years. He shrugs. “I like being mayor.”
“What about Congress?”
“I definitely think there could be a spot for me.” He lifts his head. “I could do so much more for the community that drives tourism to Georgia if I were out there.” He waves his hand in the general direction of a window. “But I don’t know about Lucy.”
I give a weak smile. “Decisions always feel bigger when a child is involved.”
Charlie nods. “She’s flexible, and she’ll go where I go, but I hate to uproot her.”
“Could she stay here?” I look around the grand kitchen.
“This is the mayor’s house. A provision provided by a former mayor.” Charlie rolls his eyes. “I suppose there’s a loophole around it, and my parents might prefer that as they won’t want some random person moving in every term, but I don’t want to miss out with Lucy. My dad was always there for me, and I want to be there for her. I need to be there double as she hardly sees her mother.”
“Vega told me Lucy isn’t excited she has to visit her mother at the end of the month.” If I had to lose Vega for two weeks, I’d be beside myself. Who knows what things she’d see from Richard and his posse of women?
“I’m not excited myself,” Charlie mutters, and I remember him telling me this during our night together. “I don’t trust Angela.”
“I know the feeling,” I retort, and Charlie’s eyes narrow at me.
“Then why would you consider his proposal?”
“Charlie, please.” I sigh, exasperated. I swipe fingers into my long hair and hold it back as my elbow rests on his island. There’s been too much in the past couple of days.
“Right. Not letting me in,” Charlie says as he reaches for my unfinished glass of wine. I think he’s going to dump it down the sink and tell me to get out, but he surprises me by picking up his own glass and then walking over to the couch in a small sitting area off the kitchen. The elaborate house has your typical formal living room and dining room toward the front, but this kitchen area is my favorite. A large island with stools but also a sit-down dining area and then a couch and entertainment center behind the table. It’s spacious but homey in this area of the house, and I follow Charlie without his instruction.
The oversized ottoman holds a tray for our wine glasses, and after setting them on the metal, Charlie falls back on the couch. I take a seat as well although not sitting as close as I’d like.
“Come closer to me,” he says, his eyes focused on the television which is on.
“What about the girls?” I whisper. It’s not like Charlie and I have a public relationship. I can’t say we even have a private one other than enjoying each other through sex, but I wouldn’t mind being closer to him. I wouldn’t mind cuddling on the couch with my feet up.
“We’d definitely hear them if they came thundering down those steps,” Charlie teases, so I move a little closer. His arm flips to the back of the couch, and my thigh presses against his, but I don’t lean into him as I wish, and he doesn’t wrap his arm around me, also like I want.
“Surprisingly, Richard was happy when I told him I was pregnant.” I don’t know why I mention this, but Charlie’s opened up to me, so I need to do the same for him. “I stupidly thought a baby would change him.” I lower my head. I was thirty-two with naïve dreams that a child would change a man. Old enough to know better myself. Innocent enough to believe differently. I’d been a picky lover over the years with only a few boyfriends as I didn’t want anyone suggesting I slept my way to the top as a woman in sports marketing, a field dominated by men. Nor did I want to hook up with men who didn’t respect my intelligence, thinking I was only a pretty face on athletics. I’d had a softball scholarship, full ride to college. How did a pretty face get me that? I was out to prove myself, and then I made one foolish mistake.
“He wanted to marry me. Said it would be good for his image, and I thought he meant making him a family man. He meant covering up his indiscretions.” It’s hard to admit how blind I’d been. How much of an enabler, perhaps? I didn’t want to believe Richard would do something like take a blonde to spring training celebrations or hook up with a brunette at a fundraiser I didn’t attend.
Charlie’s fingers come to the edge of my hair and twirl strands around them. His eyes remain focused on the television, but his other arm leans on the armrest of the couch, bracing his temple against his propped-up hand.
“It’s hard to see what’s right before you when you think you’re in love,” Charlie says.
He might be the only one who understands. My mother did not want to hear of my unhappiness. The other wives acted as if it came with the territory. Only Richard’s general manager had sympathy for me. He didn’t think Richard was fair to me, but he wanted Richard’s talent for his team.
Something must have happened because now Richard was let go.
“Did you love Angela?” It’s an invasive question, but I’m still curious. Charlie removes his arm from the edge of the couch and slouches lower into the cushions. He tugs me along with him, bringing me closer to his side, his fingers still playing with my hair.
“I loved her ambition and her spirit, but when sex becomes something on a calendar instead of spontaneous, my interest waned. Unfortunately, I thought that’s how it was even though I knew it shouldn’t be that way. My sister’s husband was my law partner before he died—”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I interject. Hi
s current partner is the son of his former partner and brother-in-law.
“We didn’t share secrets about our marriages, but Chris would let it slip if he and Mati had a particularly good night or did something unusual. He loved to tease me to see me blush and horrify me as he was speaking of my sister. So Mati and I broke in the new kitchen counter, he’d say, and I’d start la-la-laing because I didn’t want to hear it.” Charlie chuckles to himself as he mimics their conversation. “My family thought Angela was a coldhearted bitch, and they weren’t wrong. I wrote it off as them being small town before accepting she had a small heart.”
“I’m sorry it was like that for you.” Richard would have never lived by a calendar. However, he did prefer it in your typical places and positions, at least with me. He’d never taken me against a chain-link fence or an office desk as Charlie had. Charlie and I have been nothing but spontaneous.
“It’s one reason I like you,” he says, his voice lowering.
My hand comes to Charlie’s thigh, tracing circles with my thumb on the firm muscle under his sweatpants. For a suit man, he wears casual just as well. My fingers seem to have a mind of their own, and the circles turn to lines stroking up and down Charlie’s leg. He shifts a second, and I wonder if he’s turned on. I’m getting turned on by touching him. We haven’t been slow with one another. It would be too intimate, I suppose, if we were.
His fingers lower to my neck, brushing back my hair from my shoulder and tickling fine lines up and down my skin. My head tilts, leaning against his shoulder and exposing more of my neck to him.
“Whatcha doing?” The high-pitched female titter comes from the side of the couch, and Charlie and I spring forward as though we’ve been caught making out. Close. So close. Lucy breaks into giggles, but Vega stares back at me. She hasn’t seen me with anyone other than her father. How many women has Lucy caught her father with? Have there been others here before me? He’s been divorced a long time. He couldn’t possibly have gone without dates, relationships even.
Charlie’s sitting forward with his elbows on his knee, disguising what I’m certain is obvious in those sweatpants. I slip a hand between us, attempting to subtly slide apart from him and give us some distance. Lucy walks around the oversized ottoman, and Charlie watches her cross the room and then wedge herself into the minimal space between the couch edge and Charlie. Vega slips next to me. This couch isn’t really meant to hold two full adults and two growing girls, but we fit.
Charlie sits back and lifts an arm for Lucy, who tucks her head against his chest. Vega wraps her hands around my arm and leans her head on my shoulder. I turn to kiss her hair, breathing her in, and close my eyes. What am I doing here? What am I doing with Charlie?
The four of us sit in awkward silence for what feels like an eternity. My hand still rests between Charlie and me, but it twitches, wishing to return to its place on his thigh. I want him to tug me back to him, close my eyes, and pretend we are a family, just as Charlie and I have been pretending—pretending we aren’t wildly attracted to each other.
“You two are boring,” Lucy eventually says, popping her head up. “We want to go swimming.”
“It’s almost midnight,” Charlie states, and Lucy tries her pouty lip, fluttering lids thing again. “No, Pint.” His voice deepens, and I’m surprised at how easily she gives up the act. Maybe he isn’t such a pushover after all.
“Can Vega still spend the night?” Lucy directs her gaze to me, minus the whining. I turn to face Vega, meeting eyes that match mine.
“Can I, Mom?” I really think I should take Vega home. We haven’t seen each other in days, and with her father in town, which she doesn’t even know yet, we need to talk.
“I don’t think tonight’s—”
“Maybe one more night,” Charlie interjects, and the depth in his voice sounds like the night he told me only one more time, and then we’d stop. My eyes close, and Vega squeezes my arm.
“Fine,” I hiss.
Lucy squeals, and Vega tips up for my cheek, kissing me quickly. “You’re the best, Mom.”
Both girls leap from the couch.
“Pint, time for bed, though. No more wandering the house,” Charlie warns. “Lights out in fifteen.”
“Dad,” she groans.
“It’s almost midnight,” he states.
“It’s summer. We don’t have school tomorrow.”
“No, but I have work. Upstairs. Lights out. Fifteen,” Charlie demands.
“Thirty?” Lucy questions.
“Ten,” Charlie bargains.
“Okay, fifteen works.” Lucy kisses Charlie’s cheek and then walks around the ottoman. To my surprise, she leans down to give me a hug as well, and then she and Vega disappear through the kitchen.
“How did you get her to be so agreeable?” I state, a chuckle in my voice.
“Years of practice.” He sighs, and I’m reminded again that Charlie has been a single parent for a long time while it’s only been a month or so for me. Then again, I’d been a single-married-parent most of my marriage. Vega and I did everything together.
“I’ll check on them in twenty,” he states.
“You just said fifteen,” I tease.
“Yeah, but it is summer.”
“You’re a softy,” I joke, but Charlie surprises me by picking up my hand and tugging it over his middle, lowering it for the bulge in his sweats. “I’m hard for you, dammit. I can’t seem to help myself.” He drags my hand down the thick length before releasing it and returning my hand to the cushion.
“Charlie,” I purr, leaning toward him.
“I don’t want this tonight,” he says, and I freeze, pulling back. Oh, God. This is embarrassing. I shift, ready to stand and excuse myself, but Charlie reaches out for my forearm. “Don’t go. I just mean, we don’t need to do this tonight. Besides, I’m still angry.”
“Angry?” I choke.
“Yes, that you’d even consider playing along with this scheme of your ex’s.”
“Charlie, I haven’t made any decisions.”
“And that upsets me even more,” he mutters, reaching for his glass of wine and downing the remainder of it. He sets the stemware back on the tray with a light tap and swipes his hands through his hair.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” I say because I just can’t muster the energy. I want Charlie to comfort me, not shut me out. I need him, and that’s when I realize I’ve crossed a line. I shouldn’t feel this desire for him. It’s more than a yearning to be physical with him. I’m enjoying this moment of closeness tonight too much.
When Charlie doesn’t respond, I say, “I should go.”
He turns his head to me, his eyes pinned to mine. “Don’t leave.” There’s something in them that trickles down to my soul. He sounds like he means more.
Don’t be with Richard. Don’t leave Blue Ridge. Promise me you’ll stay, he said the night I spent in his bed.
I lean back into the cushion, not making any promises, but admitting I want to stay on his couch for a little longer.
We stare mindlessly at the television for the next thirty minutes, not exactly returning to the position we formerly sat in or the comfort which we felt, but I don’t move, and neither does Charlie. Eventually, he stands and heads upstairs, checking on the girls as he told them, giving in to thirty minutes instead of fifteen.
“They’re both crashed,” he said when he returns. He slumps onto the couch as he previously did and shifts me, so my head falls to his lap. I lie on my back, staring up at him.
“How do you know?” Little girls are good at faking it. I’ve hosted a slumber party or two.
“I have my ways, and I know how to pretend. My brothers used to sneak out and then pull the stillness necessary to pretend-sleep if either of our parents checked on them.”
“Your brothers, but not you?” I tease.
“I was always the good one. The one who walked the straight line.”
“Your straight line veers a bit in private,”
I joke, and Charlie’s eyes shift down to me.
“What do you mean?”
“Us.”
The soft glow of the television illuminates his brown eyes. The volume is so low he might as well mute it.
“I’ve never been with anyone the way I am with you.”
My breath catches. Does he mean it? “What about other women? I mean, you must have brought dates home or had relationships or…”
“No one. I don’t trust people to be close to Lucy, and I’ve never ever brought a woman to my home. I haven’t had a relationship since my marriage.”
“But—”
He holds up a hand to stop me.
But Charlie’s so sexual.
“I’m not a saint, and a decade is a long time, but it’s never been like this before for me,” he admits, and I shift, sitting up to place my mouth against his. We kiss, slow and sweet, savoring one another’s lips for a minute.
“I haven’t been with anyone since Richard, and even then, we weren’t together that last year. Not once.”
Charlie’s mouth tenderly returns to mine. His hand cups my cheek as he takes his time to kiss me thoroughly. I’m starting to melt under the delicate attention when he pulls away.
“Lie back how you were.”
My brows pinch, but I return to my back, head in Charlie’s lap. His fingers outline my face, stroking over my cheek and down my nose. He brushes over my forehead, circles down to my chin, and then wipes his thumb over my lips.
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
It’s said with reverence and not the insult of arm candy. His brows pinch as if he can’t believe it himself. I’m beautiful to him.
I’m about to thank him, but he pushes his thumb past my lips, and I suck it, taking my time to swirl my tongue against the thick pad and draw down the length of the digit. He slowly drags it from my lips and moves down my chin and along my throat before slipping his hand into my shirt. His fingers skim lower, dipping under my bra and cupping me. Squeezing at the heaviness, I press upward as my eyes roll back. Charlie massages me, teasing me and tugging the nipple taut. He removes his hand, but at this angle, he can’t reach the other as easily. Instead, he slips out of my shirt and runs his hand over my belly.