It’s simple and straightforward and works for both of us.
But Annie’s question churns up that bubble in my chest that I thought was dying down. It makes me regret inviting Annie over and wishing I’d not started talking to her about Jess at all.
Because these types of conversations never lead anywhere good. They lead to confusion, and to dissatisfaction, and…
I’m just happy with the way things are, right now. I don’t want things to change. I don’t like change.
“We should probably wrap things up,” I say, standing, my tone gruffer than it should be.
Annie’s eyes widen at my sudden change in demeanor, but I can’t bring myself to apologize or explain.
“I’m gonna head in. Can you use the side gate?” I’m already walking away from her, but glance back to see that she’s now standing too, her hand resting against her stomach as if I’ve wounded her in some way.
“Of course,” she says, nodding and giving me a strained smile. I feel sick, knowing it’s my fault. “Thanks for letting us come over for a bit.”
I nod at her once, choosing to ignore the pit growing in my stomach, then walk through my sliding door, careful to shut it softly behind me. I walk straight through the house, outside the front and around to the garage, where Chloe sits, waiting for some attention.
I get to work on the brakes, which is an easy fix that I’ve been avoiding since there are so many other problems that are much bigger.
But after working for about ten minutes, I start to have problems swallowing the lump of regret that sits in my throat. My quick dismissal of Annie might have promised to ease the discomfort in my chest, but the rest of my body seems to be reacting just as poorly, leaving me feeling a swell of emotions that I’d hoped to quell.
I lean on the body of the car, a wrench clutched in my left hand, just staring down under the hood. My eyes don’t see the parts that make up the engine. They blur and morph as my vision shifts, my inability to focus on the project in front of me a startling contrast to how I typically deal with problems.
I need some water. That’s all. Just something to lube up the pipes.
I walk through the interior door and head back into the kitchen, coming to a halt when I see Annie at the sink.
Her face pales when she sees me, which makes me feel even worse. Her eyes dart away and she keeps her focus on the dish in front of her.
“Sorry, I was just… there were dirty dishes outside and I didn’t want to leave them behind without cleaning them so I pulled Jones out of the pool and then came inside to deal with them so you wouldn’t have to wash them yourself because what kind of neighbor would I be if I offered to make you dinner and then just left the dishes for you to do by yourself.”
She takes a deep breath, and looks to be preparing to start another crazy long sentence.
“Annie.”
“Sorry,” she whispers as she continues to scrub out a pot. “I’m just putting these in the dishwasher and then I’ll be gone and totally out of your hair. And I have Jones wrapped in a towel and sitting on the floor in the living room so he doesn’t get anything wet.”
“Annie,” I say again.
She finally stops what she’s doing and turns her head to look at me.
“I’m sorry for being an ass.”
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry for… I wasn’t trying to be rude or anything, and you’ve just been so nice and such a great neighbor that I…”
“Annie.”
She stops again and bites her lips between her teeth.
“You did nothing wrong. I’m sorry I was short with you. I just…” I let out a sigh. “I don’t know…” I shrug. “I don’t have an excuse. But I’m sorry if I made you feel unwelcome. That’s the last thing I want.”
Her eyes glass up a little bit, but she gives me a nod and a watery smile.
When I first saw her, it was that forced smile that made me want to help her. And now I’m the cause of it.
Fuck.
“I’ll just be a few more minutes,” she says, and all I can do is nod. I glance over my shoulder and see Jones sitting on the floor in the living room, watching TV on mute, wrapped in a towel. I decide to head in there and say goodbye, since I was a dick who didn’t say bye to a kid earlier.
“Hey, little man,” I say. “It was fun having you over today.”
He turns and gives me a smile, completely unaware of the tension between me and his mom. “Can I come back tomorrow?”
I laugh. “Lets wait and see what you and your mom have planned.” I look over my shoulder, then lean in close and whisper, “But you should be able to come back this weekend sometime.”
He jumps up and down shouting, “Yes!” Then he runs around the room with his arms out and the towel flapping around behind him like a cape or wings.
“Jones, lets go!” Annie says, coming into the room. Her eyes catch mine. “Sorry again.”
“Annie, you don’t have to…”
“Come on, mister.” She picks Jones up and tickles him, and he just wiggles and giggles. “We gotta get you showered and in bed.”
Then she glances at me. “See you around.” But there’s no brightness in her expression. Just that plastic smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
I’d made it some sort of unspoken mission to try and bring whatever light Annie has inside of her to the front, to give her a reason to smile like she means it.
Instead, I doused it in water.
Before I can say anything else to her, they’re both gone.
And I’m left with a hollow feeling in my chest.
CHAPTER FIVE
ANNIE
On Saturday morning, before things get busy, I decide to take Jones out to practice riding his bike. It still has training wheels. Andrew was supposed to start teaching him how to ride without them, but they only got in a few lessons on the bike with training wheels before he died. Which reminds me, I need to look up directions on how to take the training wheels off.
It’s not even 7 in the morning when the two of us pull his bike out of the little carport on the side of our house and begin going up and down the street, but already the California heat is making me sweat and – I give my pits a sniff – stink. I’ll be showering after this for sure.
“How long until I can ride it for real?” Jones asks as we finish our third pass down the street and turn to go back towards the end of our cul-de-sac. “I hate these things. I want to ride like the big kids.”
He wants to grow up so fast, and while I’m excited about seeing him grow and change and learn, there’s also a big part of me that wants him to shut it down and stay the same. He’s just a baby still.
“Soon, mister,” I reply, giving his helmet a pat. “I have to teach myself how to take your trainers off, but don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”
He chatters along happily for another twenty minutes or so as we make a few more lengths up and down our road. He talks about his Mimi, the Avengers movie, the guppy, his bike, and his dream last night that he was the president. I soak it all in, knowing I won’t always have the ability to listen to his unfiltered thoughts. At some point, he’ll stop sharing with me. But for now, I get to hear about how he legalized free pizza for everyone.
“Morning!”
I look up at the greeting and see Cole pulling his motorcycle out of the garage.
Instead of giving him a normal greeting, because I’m a normal human, I flush bright red and give him something that I’m sure looks like a weird horse smile where I show too much teeth.
He laughs, but not so intensely that it feels like he’s making fun of me. He’s actually very good at making me not feel like an idiot, which is a nice change after Andrew.
I’m still feeling a little on edge, since he was kind of dismissive at the end of us being at his house on Thursday evening. But I swallow it down and try to give him a more genuine smile. Because, hey, we’re neighbors.
“Having fun?”
It only takes
that one simple question for Jones to take off on his bike and speed pedal the remaining 30 or so yards left between us, as fast as his little legs will allow him to go.
“Cole! Did you see me? I was riding my bike! And once mom takes off the trainers I’m gonna learn how to really ride it and then I can go on your motorcycle, right?”
He smiles at Jones, who struggles to get off his bike and then stands right next to Cole’s motorcycle, his hands reaching out to touch the tank with his tiny fingers.
“Jones, don’t touch that,” I call from behind him.
“Yeah, bud,” Cole says, squatting down to Jones’ level. “If I’ve been riding it, some of the bike gets really hot and can burn you super quick. Tssss.” He reaches out and pinches Jones’ leg and he squeals and giggles.
Cole glances up at me and gives me a smile that’s genuine and open. I want to feel comfortable around him right now, but I’m still trying to figure him out. He was so abrupt the other night. And I know everyone is entitled to be a little surly every so often, but I don’t know him well enough yet to be able to understand his moods. I’ve had my fair share of dealing with emotionally erratic men. So caution is the name of the game.
“Can you take me on a ride with you?” Jones asks.
I swear, I need to teach this child patience and the importance of not asking the same question a million times hoping to get a different result.
“Jones, we need to get ready to go check out your daycare, remember?” I say, trying to soften the blow. I don’t want Cole to always be the one telling him no.
His shoulders drop and his head falls back, his facial expression contorting as his eyebrows furrow and his mouth droops.
“But mooooooooooom” he whines.
I give him the look. Every mom has one. It’s a look that reminds your child that if they feel like whining about something, there is a world of unhappiness coming their way. So instead of continuing into full tantrum mode, he lets out a sigh and stomps off towards the house, leaving his bike behind.
“Say goodbye to Cole,” I shout after him.
Jones comes trudging back to us and stands in front of Cole, staring at the ground.
“Bye Cole,” he mutters.
“Bye bud,” Cole says, trying to hide his smile, and giving Jones a pat on the head.
Then Jones heads back into our house.
“Sorry about that,” I say. “I’m trying to teach him that asking for something over and over again doesn’t mean he’ll get what he wants. But it’s a hard lesson for a kid. Once they learn that they have to ask for something nicely, they don’t understand why asking nicely doesn’t always give them the same results.”
Cole let out a chuckle at that.
“Yeah, seems like kid logic. Makes sense to me.”
“Oh, so you think like a kid then?” I ask, surprised at my teasing tone. “Well, I envy you sometimes, because I definitely don’t and I can’t seem to follow his thoughts most of the time.”
“Well, that’s because he’s a boy, not because he’s a kid,” Cole says. “He gets smashed with messages, even at this age, that he can have anything he wants if he just asks the right way. You’re doing a good job teaching him that’s not how the world should work, even if it actually does work that way.”
My eyebrows rise up just slightly. I have to say, I’m a little amazed. I’ve never had anyone, let alone a man, lay things out so directly and simply. And as nice as Cole is, he has that bad boy biker thing going on, and every romance novel you read or TV show you see is clear that bad boy bikers take what they want.
He smiles, apparently reading my body language.
“Yeah, I grew up in a pretty progressive family,” he says. “We are all card carrying members of the official Feminists club, and the term boys will be boys is worse in my parents’ home than any slur or derogatory term you can imagine.”
“Well, its good to know if my kid is gonna be spending any time with you that you won’t be encouraging him to smack womens’ asses as they walk by,” I say, thinking of the way Andrew treated the women at his work. It always disgusted me, but I just… I don’t know… I guess I lived in a world where he did whatever he wanted and I wasn’t allowed to verbalize an opinion on it, one way or another.
Then I catch what I said and my eyes fly to Cole’s. “Not that I’m expecting you to spend a lot of time with him. I just mean that if you’re around him at all, I’m glad you…”
“Annie,” he says, interrupting me with a smile in his eyes, “I know what you mean.”
Before I can respond, a throaty female voice calls out from my left.
“Hey there.”
I turn my head, and standing in the doorway of Cole’s house is, I’m assuming, Jess. And, can I just say wow is she beautiful.
“Morning baby,” Cole says to her as she approaches where we are standing on his driveway. He reaches his hand out for her and she takes it in both of hers. “Jess, I want you to meet my neighbor, Annie. Annie, this is my girlfriend, Jess.”
“Hi,” I say, giving her a smile and trying not to feel incredibly overwhelmed by her presence.
Damn she’s gorgeous. And she’s not even wearing any makeup yet.
Her long, thick, multi-colored hair is tied in a single braid and hanging over her left shoulder, leading all the way down to the middle of her waist. She has big, beautiful, expressive blue eyes and lips that are plump but not fake looking. Not surprising for someone dating Cole, who has that bit of biker badassness going on, Jess has a nose ring and an eyebrow ring and has tattoos on her thighs and arms and even one on her neck.
She’s quite the force to be reckoned with out here on the front lawn in a pair of boxers and tank top that probably belong to Cole.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” I add, not exactly honestly. Cole talked to me a little bit about her, but not to the extent I’m implying. “It’s great to finally meet you.”
It’s then that I take in her smile. Which is… not really there. Like, at all. I mean, there’s a slight tilt to her lips, but she doesn’t necessarily seem happy to meet me. And I feel like I’ve gotten pretty good at reading people’s body language over the past few years.
“Sorry, what was your name?” she says, clutching tightly to Cole and snuggling herself in close to his body, one eyebrow arching as she glares at me.
Yeeeeaaaaaaah. There’s a definite vibe going on right now. An angry or irritated one, coming off of her and flying in my direction like daggers. I’m not sure why. But I’m going to be as nice as possible, because it’s Cole’s girlfriend and he’s a great neighbor.
“Annie,” I respond. “And my son’s name is Jones. You just missed him.”
She nods her head, but her eyes are squinted at me in a way that’s… well if I’m completely honest, she looks super hostile right now, even with that fake non-smile on her face.
“I’ve talked to you about Annie and Jones,” Cole says, looking at her, his brow furrowed.
She shrugs once and gives a little headshake. “Sorry. I don’t remember hearing about you.” Then she turns her head up and looks at his face. “Cole, baby, I thought you were leaving for work.”
The interaction strikes me as odd, but I can’t place exactly why. There’s a possessiveness in the way she holds him and how she’s speaking to him, and a very clear disinterest in my presence. It sets my hackles up just slightly.
“I was,” he says, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that surprises me. “Just stopping to say hi to my friend.”
My eyes flick back and forth between them as they look at each other, and I can tell there is something else going on. Andrew used to be able to communicate something to me with just a look or a too-tight squeeze of his hand on my thigh. Usually it was his displeasure at something I was doing or saying.
I don’t want to be the cause of that between Cole and Jess.
“Well, thanks for placating Jones with the motorcycle,” I say. “I appreciate how nice you are to hi
m. But I should probably get back inside. We have to head out soon.”
Cole looks back at me, his eyebrows furrowing for a second, and Jess’ smile grows just slightly.
“See you guys later,” I say. Then turn and waddle my fat pregnant butt back to my house. I have places to be, and it doesn’t include whatever is going on between Jess and Cole.
But the minute I enter my house, I realize that all of the windows in the front are open, and after standing in the entry for just a second, I realize I can hear them talking.
“What was that?” Cole hisses.
There’s silence for a second, and I step closer to a window and glance outside. Jess is just standing there, looking at him.
“What do you mean?”
Even from here, I can hear the absolutely faux innocence in her voice. I roll my eyes, then realize Cole has done the same thing.
“Don’t pull that. I thought if you met Annie, you’d see that you have nothing to be worried about.”
Ouch. I wince at his comment. He wanted me to meet his girlfriend so she’d realize I’m not competition? Well, first of all, obviously I’m not competition. I’m a fat fatty pregnant lady that’s bloated and gassy and crying all the time. And two, Cole is way, way out of my league. Like years out of my league. Literally. He’s at least ten years older than me, and clearly seems to be leading a successful life, and as time passes I’m becoming even more aware of how handsome he is. Like, really handsome.
Yeah, in the pool of life, he’s swimming in the Olympic-sized one next to Michael Phelps, while I’m over in the kiddie pool testing out floaties.
But still. No one wants their mediocrity shoved in their face.
Maybe I shouldn’t listen to them anymore. Eavesdropping never did anyone any good. I’m sure of it.
But before I can get far enough away from the window, I hear him continue.
“She’s my pregnant fucking neighbor who is all alone and has no friends. Have a little pity, Jess. Jesus.”
Like You Mean It Page 7