My chest stays perpetually damp with her tears.
When she finally stops talking, her breathing stills, and I can tell she’s fallen asleep.
I don’t care that she wants to go home. I’m not letting her go tonight. I never want to let her go. Instead, I hold her tightly as she sleeps.
It’s strange as I contemplate all she told me.
I never imagined falling for someone, falling in love with someone, and then holding that someone while she possibly dreamt of someone else, but for some reason, it feels right.
I’m honored that Mandy finally let me in—trusted me—not just into her body, but also with a glimpse into her heart. Knowing her story helps me to understand her trepidation. It makes sense. But as I lie with her in my arms, I wish I could make her understand that I’ll never try to replace Jackson. What they had together shouldn’t be replaced. What I’d like to do is love her too. She deserves that.
As I fall asleep, I hope that someday she’ll decide there’s room in her heart and her life for me too.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Amanda
The coffee shop is packed with Black Friday shoppers as Sally and I sit at a small table, surrounded by our bounty. We’ve been shopping since late Thanksgiving night and now the sun is once again up. While the sales aren’t all they used to be, and normally online shopping is my favorite option—it’s convenient and I can do it late at night in my pajamas—shopping on Black Friday is our tradition. We’ve done it ever since we were young, going out to the stores with our moms. Sally’s mom and dad have moved to Florida for the colder months. Snowbirds is what they’re called and they love every moment. The last few years, when it comes to fighting the crowds, my mom has chosen to stay home with Jase and Dad and decorate the house for Christmas. Therefore, that leaves just Sally and me, and neither one of us would miss it for the world.
“I think you’ve about got the Santa thing covered,” Sally says, inspecting my bags.
“With this and what’s already in the trunk of the car, I think you might be right.” I shrug. “Besides, Monday is Black Monday and with Amazon Prime, I’ll get whatever I missed.”
“Don’t remind me. Last year I dropped a fortune, and I don’t even have a son.”
“No, but you’re Aunt Sally and you always do too much.”
She smiles over the rim of her coffee. “It’s not all for Jase. I still enjoy shopping for myself.”
I peek at the bags near her boots. “I noticed.”
“Hey, I can take some of your stuff to my place if you want and keep it hidden.”
“That would be great...”
We go on to discuss the fun of hiding the presents and what we remember when we were the little ones waking on Christmas morning. It’s hard not to think about Jackson when Jase is so excited. But every year, I’ve worked to make our private Christmas as special as it would be if Jackson could be there. Then, after our private presents and pancakes, we head over to my parents’ house for round two and finally to Jackson’s parents’ place for round three.
Though his parents aren’t as involved as mine, they’re always excited to spend time with Jase.
“What’s Malcolm doing this long weekend?” Sally asks.
“He went to visit his parents. Oh! They live in Florida too.”
“And he didn’t think we should have met them while we were there?”
I just shake my head. “Too real, thank you.”
“Well, I’m not surprised that they live there. Just think, he’ll come back all tan.” Her eyebrows do a little dance. “Tan-line discovery.”
“I never told you—”
“What? Spill. He’s amazing in bed and all you want for Christmas is a great big O?”
I giggle. “Subject is off-limits. I’ve told you that.”
“I’ve told you about Brian. He’s—”
“See,” I interrupt, shaking my head. “The thing is that I don’t want to know.”
“The best...that’s all I was going to say. I know how you are. No sexy details for my former-nun best friend.”
I laugh at that. “Former?”
“Yep. Whenever you mention Pep, you’re all giddy and shit. I think the only praying you’re doing now is calling out to God during those O’s.”
“You’re awful and possibly sacrilegious.”
“Wait, what were you going to tell me? What haven’t you told me? We’re best friends. I’m supposed to know everything.”
It’s then I remember the change in Jase. “This isn’t what I was going to tell you, but let me just say that since they moved Jase to that new teacher, it’s been the difference of night and day. He loves everything about his new class. It’s exactly what I was praying and hoping for...” Between my search for O’s. “...and the teacher...Jase is all ‘Mr. P. said’ or ‘Mr. P. did’...”
“And you still haven’t met this famous and mysterious Mr. P.?”
I shake my head as I take a sip of my coffee. “No. I mean, I doubt he’s very mysterious. It’s just that Cruella de Vil has been especially bitchy. Mom met him the first day Jase went to his classroom. She said he was nice and handsome...” I mimic my mother’s voice. “...and he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.”
Sally laughs. “Your mom’s hilarious.”
“It’s not just Mr. P. Now that she knows Malcolm’s name—thanks to you and my kidnapping—she mentions often that maybe it would be good for Jase and Malcolm to meet...” I shake my head as I take another drink. “Besides, as far as Mr. P. goes, Jase’s principal said that he’s a new teacher, so I figure he’s what...twenty-two or twenty-three?”
“Girl, you’re twenty-five. A younger man might be fun.”
“Almost twenty-six and no thanks. Mommy to one little boy is enough. Besides, I’m kind of seeing Malcolm.” And he’s a man, not a boy. I don’t say that, but the thought makes my insides pinch in just the right way.
“Kind of?” Sally asks. “Yes, you kind of have been seeing one another, for what...over three months?”
“Yes,” I agree. “We just celebrated our three-month anniversary.”
“I thought only high school students did that shit. Next you’re going to tell me you’ve been doodling his name with yours at work on your ink blotter.” Her voice goes up an octave. “Malcolm plus Amanda...”
“It wasn’t as if we actually celebrated. The night was...emotional.”
Sally’s smile fades. “Emotional? Why? What’s the matter?”
“This is what I haven’t told you...”
“Oh, honey...did he break it off? Did you? Why?”
“No,” I say. “That’s not it. I told him about Jackson.”
My best friend’s hazel eyes open wide as they fill with unshed tears. “You what?”
I simply nod, holding back my own tears. “I told Malcolm all about Jackson. He listened. He didn’t question or act jealous. He just held me and made me feel safe, like it was all right to share and grieve and be honest. After I poured out my heart, I fell asleep in his arms, listening to his heartbeat, feeling drained yet somehow lighter.”
Sally’s tears are no longer confined to her eyes. They’re now streaming down her face. Wiping them away, she mutters, “Damn sleep deprivation. I need a fucking nap.”
“Yeah, apparently, I was sleep-deprived that night too, because I cried through the whole thing.”
“And now?”
I shrug. “In a way, it doesn’t change anything: Jackson is still gone. I’m still Jase’s only parent, yet at the same time, as I said, it feels different. Lighter somehow. I don’t even know how to explain it.”
“Girl, Malcolm is the whole package.”
My grin returns. “No, remember, he is just one night.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She lifts her paper cup of coffee and offers a caffeine-infused toast. “To one fucking long night...like maybe one that lasts the next fifty years.”
We clink cups. Not really. Paper doesn’t make a sound.
<
br /> “I’m scared to think of forever.”
“Then just keep it to one night. No one is rushing you. Keep it one night and maybe tomorrow time will stand still. What about introducing Jase?”
I shake my head. “I’m not ready to bring them together yet. Besides, with Mr. P. in Jase’s life, I don’t think Malcolm could compete.”
“It’s not a competition.”
“Maybe for the first time in years, time isn’t my enemy. Maybe we have time for that in the future. Like...way in the future.”
Sally looks down at the screen of her phone. “No, time’s not an enemy with your handsome men, but if we’re going to make the early-bird specials at Pink, we need to hustle.”
“I don’t think Jase needs lingerie for Christmas.”
Her eyebrows do the dancing thing again. “This is mommy-shopping and maybe even Pep-shopping.”
“You think Malcolm needs some silky lingerie?”
“I think he wouldn’t mind if you had some. Girl, when I packed for you for Florida, I noted that your supply was seriously lacking.”
“Because I have so much opportunity...”
“That one silk nightgown was all I could find.”
As we gather our bags, I look at Sally and grin. “Oh, was there a nightgown packed? I guess I didn’t notice.”
“Yes, the nun has left the building.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Amanda
Snow is beginning to fall as I pull my car into the elementary school's parking lot. Though I should be thinking about the condition of the roads, my thoughts are consumed with the letter in my purse, the one telling me to be here for a meeting with Jase's new teacher. The sense of dread that I’ve had since I first read the note intensifies with each passing second. It bubbles through me with that paralyzing type of fear that makes moving difficult. It takes all my concentration to reach for the key and turn off the engine of my car.
For not the first time, I wish I weren't alone. I could have asked my mother. She would have come, but that's not the same.
I long for Jackson...and now, Malcolm.
That’s happening more and more, and while I’m doing what Mom and Sally wanted—I’m living—a part of me feels guilty that I think of Malcolm in that way. I would never try to replace Jackson, but as Sally and Mom have been telling me, life goes on.
I know I should have shared with Malcolm more about Jase and his issues at school; after all, he’s a teacher and a coach. He’s familiar with kids, but I’d assume he’s used to older ones. Now that he talks about his hockey days, he’s told me how he used to volunteer with a U12 hockey league in Florida.
Five-year-old boys are not the same as ten- and eleven-year-old boys. The honest truth is that the more attracted I become to Malcolm, the more afraid I am of letting Jase get close. There’s nothing holding Malcolm to me. What if he doesn’t want the drama of a kindergarten boy?
He could leave.
That’s what could happen.
And what if Jase becomes as attached to Malcolm as I have? Malcolm’s leaving would be devastating to both of us. I can’t be the cause of any more disappointment for Jase.
I say it’s because of Jase, but I know it’s also because of me. As I contemplate the possibility of a future, it all frightens me. I’m scared to be happy. I’m scared to bring all the separate parts of my life together because if I do, it could all implode. Or worse, it could be perfect and then it could disappear.
For some reason, I remember what Alec said to me at his softball game, and I decide that it’s not a lack of faith. It’s fear. I’m afraid to have faith.
A tear falls down my cheek as I push those thoughts away. I don’t have time for this. At this moment, I need to concentrate on the reason I’m at Jase’s school. I need to focus on this upcoming meeting.
Mr. P. wants to talk with me. What if he tells me that Jase isn’t a good fit for his class, that this isn't working? This kind of teaching that he’s doing is a pilot program. I’m sure they don’t want any failures. Yet from my perspective, I didn’t think things were failing. I thought things had improved. I know that without a doubt Jase’s attitude has. Even as recently as this morning, he was excited to go to school.
I look through the foggy windows at the snow. Soon it will be Christmas break. I’m afraid Mr. P. is going to recommend a private school or something else. I’m afraid I’ll be spending Jase’s break shopping for a new school or worse, making a doctor’s appointment for him. I don’t even know for sure what I’m afraid of, but I know I am.
For not the first time, I'm scared and alone.
With my car parked and a million thoughts running through my mind, I come to the realization that I’m tired of being scared. Of all the things I have to fear, faith in Malcolm shouldn’t be one of them. From the moment we met, I sensed something sincere about Malcolm. Never in over three months has he given me any reason to doubt him.
Maybe I can’t guarantee that Malcolm will be in Jase’s life forever. I know I can’t. I’ve learned the hard way that nothing is guaranteed. What I can do is what Alec mentioned. I can have faith in my judgment that Malcolm is a good man. Faith that the time Jase has Malcolm in his life will be positive.
Taking a ragged breath, I begin to type Malcolm a text. I know he’s at work and won’t get it until later, but I need to write it.
I want to write it.
Sorry to bother you at work. I should have told you, but I was afraid. I’m at my son’s school for a meeting with his new teacher. I’m scared, and I wish you were here. My hand trembles as I write the part my heart tells me to write. He’s a great kid. You’re an amazing man. If you’d… I backspace to man. Can I introduce the two of you? I would love for you two to meet.
My heart is beating a million miles a minute. It’s telling me that this is something I should have done a while ago, but still it feels a little like jumping off a cliff.
I don’t expect Malcolm to take on the responsibility of Jase. I guess I just hope he’ll be willing to support me as I shoulder the responsibility.
Taking a deep breath, I bend my knees and jump.
In a more literal sense, I hit send.
As I do, the alarm on my phone rings, and I read my screen.
School meeting with Jase’s teacher.
I take another breath, wipe the tears from my cheeks, and do my best to pull myself together. Step by step, I keep going until I’ve entered the school.
“Mrs. Harrison?” the receptionist asks as she pushes the button that opens the door, allowing me to enter the school.
I shake my head. “Ms. Wells. I’m Jason Harrison’s mother. I’m here for a meeting.” Why is that so damn hard? I’m not the first mother in the history of time to have a different last name.
A moment later, I'm in the main office. “Yes, Ms. Wells," the older receptionist says. "Mr. P. is waiting for you in the conference room.”
I follow closely behind as she leads the way to the back of the office and beyond to a hallway of conference rooms. As we approach, the ring of Jase’s laughter reaches me. Suddenly, my dread and fear bubble to the surface. With my stomach in knots, I reach for the receptionist’s arm. There’s panic in my tone. “Is my son in there?”
“Yes,” she says with a smile. “I believe he is.”
“Why? If there’s a problem, he’s too young—”
“Ma’am, I don’t think there’s a problem. Mr. P.—”
We turn the corner and two sets of blue eyes turn our direction. The ones I love and have since the day he was born and laid in my arms, and the other, the sexiest, most stunning blue eyes I know. That second pair renders me mute, staring at me with obvious shock. My feet forget to move as his gaze holds me captive.
“Ms. Wells is here,” the receptionist says.
Malcolm stands, confusion evident on his face. “Wells? Harrison?”
“Yes, I'm sorry," the older woman says. "I had it wrong. Ms. Wells is Jason Harrison’s mother.”
>
Jase jumps from the chair beside Malcolm and runs toward me. “Mommy, this is Mr. P. He says I’m doing good!” His sweet voice rings through the conference room.
“Good?” I can hardly speak as tears fill my eyes. It’s difficult to pull my gaze from Malcolm’s.
Jase grabs my hand and drags me forward. “He says we get to tell you.”
Malcolm still hasn’t said more than my name.
I look around. The receptionist is gone, leaving the three of us alone.
“Mr. P.?” I ask.
Malcolm's grin overtakes his expression of confusion as he shrugs. “Peppernick is hard for kindergarteners to say.”
I shake my head. “I knew you were a teacher, but you never said that you taught kindergarten.”
“I tried, but we agreed to keep everything centered on us—live in the moment.”
“B-but you're Jase's teacher? You’re my son’s teacher.”
Malcolm’s smile broadens. “And you’re Jason's mother. You have a marvelous son.”
The weight of the world lifts off my shoulders and my heart. I blink away the tears of relief. “I do.”
Malcolm lowers himself to one knee and looks at Jase. “And you, Jason, have a great mom.”
Jase's smile fills his entire face. “I do.” He turns to me. “See, Mom. I told you Mr. P. is cool.”
“Yes, Jase. Mr. P. is very cool.” I turn to Malcolm. “And this meeting isn’t to say there are problems?”
Malcolm shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry if my note scared you. I thought you’d realized how well he’s been doing.” Malcolm pulls out a chair for me at the large table. “Jason—”
“His name is Jason,” I say, interrupting. “But we call him Jase.”
Malcolm turns toward Jase. “Which name do you like better?”
I’m speechless, and my chest clenches as Malcolm asks for Jase’s preference.
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