by S. J. Hooks
“Lead the way,” he says, motioning to the apartment building.
“You … want to meet my friends?”
“If that’s all right?” he asks.
“Um, sure. It’s just … Jo’s boyfriend, he doesn’t know about you.”
“He’ll find out this weekend anyway, won’t he?”
I nod my head, still feeling uneasy.
“You work for me,” Mr. Thorne says calmly. “That’s all he needs to know.”
“You’re my mommy’s boss?” Luke pipes up. “Thanks for the toys!”
“I didn’t—”
“I told him I got a job so I could buy stuff for him,” I explain.
“Oh.” Mr. Thorne looks at Luke. “You should thank your mother. She bought them, not me.”
“I did already,” he says. “Right, Mommy?”
“You sure did,” I say, giving him a smile. “Let’s go see what Pippa and Piper are doing, okay?”
Outside their door, I decide to knock rather than enter like I normally would. It doesn’t feel right to barge in when I have someone with me that they don’t know.
“Here comes the bride!” Jo exclaims, flushed and laughing as she opens the door. On her head is what looks like a veil made out of toilet paper. “Come on in, Abbi, we’re …”
She trails off as she looks behind me. Her eyes widen and her mouth opens and closes a few times.
“Celebrating,” she finishes, looking at me again. “Is that—”
“I’m Mr. Thorne,” he says, stepping up next to me and holding out his hand. “How do you do?”
“That just means hi,” Luke helpfully supplies, before slipping past her with his toy-stuffed backpack.
“Um, hi?” she says, taking his hand.
“I see best wishes are in order,” he responds, giving her a charming smile.
“Oh my God,” she whispers, using her free hand to yank off the makeshift veil. “Thank you.”
“Babe, what’s the holdup?” Thomas calls over the music playing in the living room. He dances out to join us, wearing a toilet-paper bowtie around his neck.
“Oh,” he says, wrapping his arm around Jo. “Who’s this?”
“This is my boss, Mr. Thorne,” I say.
“Hey, man.” Thomas reaches out to shake his hand, friendly as always. “You wanna join us for a drink? We’re having a bit of a celebration here.”
“Thank you, no. I don’t want to intrude on your happy occasion. But congratulations.” He turns to me.
“We should …” Jo says, already pushing Thomas inside, “let them say goodbye. It was nice to meet you!”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Mr. Thorne says to the door as it slams shut.
“They, uh, just got engaged,” I needlessly explain.
“I gathered.”
“It’s usually a lot quieter around here,” I say, not sure why I feel the need to tell him that. “Just Jo and the kids.”
“Oh? Is he stationed somewhere usually?”
“Uh, no. They’ve been apart. Thomas had some … problems.”
Mr. Thorne’s expression turns serious. “Legal problems?”
“No, no!” I protest. “Nothing like that. I mean, he was a bit of a stoner after high school, but he’s a really good guy.”
Shit! Why did I say that? Instantly, I feel horrible for blurting out intimate details about Thomas to a man he doesn’t even know. Mr. Thorne looks anything but placated. In fact, he looks frighteningly upset.
“Drugs,” he practically sneers, “are unacceptable to me, Abigail. Is he still using?”
“No!” I assure him. “Do you really think I’d stay with my son in a place with drugs? Thomas stopped all that when he found out Jo was pregnant. I swear.”
He holds my gaze for a very long time; I see the anger slowly seeping out of him before his shoulders drop suddenly, like a deflated balloon, and he puts my bags on the floor with a dull thump.
“I don’t like drugs,” he says quietly.
“Neither do I.” I stare at him, wondering what the hell just happened. Why did he react so strongly? I didn’t say Thomas did hard drugs or was violent. Marijuana is legal here in Washington, so even if he did still use it, it wouldn’t be a crime.
Mr. Thorne nods once before straightening up to his full height. “Friday?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, still a bit stunned by his reaction. “We’ll come.”
“Good,” he says, shocking me even further as he reaches out for me and pulls me into his embrace.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” he murmurs, caressing my face. “You wouldn’t put your child in danger. I apologize.”
“It’s okay.”
He tightens his arms around me and I can’t resist the urge to snuggle against him, closing my eyes. My body is so tired, but my spirit is elated. I smile as he rests his chin on top of my head, exhaling deeply, relaxing against me. When he holds me like this it’s easy to forget he’s just my boss. Too easy.
Slowly, he pulls away. His face is neutral again, but his eyes are still warm as he gazes down on me. He reaches into his pocket, retrieving his wallet.
“Here,” he says, pulling out some bills and handing them to me.
“No,” I protest. “I haven’t earned that.”
He takes my hands, holding them and the money.
“You will not starve yourself again,” he says sternly. “Those days are over.”
I nod my head, trying to control my emotions.
“Just … buy something nice to eat for you and your friends for dinner tonight,” he adds. “And take care of yourself and Luke.”
“Okay,” I whisper, taking the bills from him. “Thank you.”
“Friday at four? And take a cab.”
“Okay,” I say again.
He kisses me softly, sweetly at first. Then he reaches around me, crushing my body against his as he lifts me up. I feel my feet dangling in the air as his tongue touches mine, making me whimper. I cling to his shoulders, responding eagerly to the kiss, wanting more and more.
“Fuck,” he groans against my lips. “Sweet girl, what are you doing to me?”
“Don’t … know,” I pant. Whatever this is, it’s powerful. It’s so unlike the only other relationship I’ve had. Mr. Thorne isn’t going to pick me up at my parents’ house and introduce himself. He isn’t going to take me to the school dance. He isn’t going to bring me to the movies for a date and then spend the whole time trying to cop a feel. He and I aren’t going to argue about unpaid bills or lack of responsibility. We won’t spend our nights with our backs turned. In fact, we won’t spend our nights together at all. But we’ll have three hours together each night before bed. Patrick never set aside so much time for me. By the end, I was lucky if I saw him three hours total in a whole week.
This is a job, but I don’t know if that’s necessarily a bad thing. Whatever this is, I know I want it. I want him.
Gently, he lets me down. I fist my hands in the lapels of his coat to steady myself.
“I have to go,” he breathes, obviously as affected as I am. “See you Friday.”
“See you,” I sigh as he walks down the stairs. I press my hand against my chest, feeling my heart thundering away. Definitely powerful.
Inside the apartment, Jo gives me a long look. I can tell she’s bursting at the seams, wanting to know what happened, but for now she focuses on her family. I do the same, making sure Luke’s space is set up in the girls’ room, a sleeping bag on a small mattress on the floor. He’s beyond excited to sleep there tonight. Afterward, we join the celebration in the living room and the day passes quickly in a blur of laughter, cake, Disney, and dancing.
“Be sure to thank your boss for this,” Thomas says, patting his stomach. It’s late and we’ve just finished the last of the Chinese takeout. The kids passed out a while ago after eating their fill.
“Yes, that was really nice of him,” Jo agrees, grinning at me. She turns to Thomas. “Why don’t you go relax
on the couch, baby? Abbi and I will clean up.”
“No.” He shakes his head, making a few of his previously combed-down curls stick out. “I’ll do it. You two take a load off.” He leans over to kiss Jo before he starts clearing the table. She gives me a look of surprise, but doesn’t hesitate to drag me into the living room.
“Okay, tell me absolutely everything!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in excitement. “What happened? How did he find you? No, wait. First, can we just talk about how freaking gorgeous he is?”
I chuckle a little, nodding my head.
“I mean, you said he was handsome, but Abbi, holy shit!”
“I know. He’s hot.”
She laughs at me. “Tell me everything!”
Half an hour later, Jo is still listening intently as I finish recounting the day.
“So we’re going over there at four on Friday, and then we’ll see how it goes,” I finish. She’s quiet for a few beats, shifting around a little.
“Well, it’s a really great offer,” she finally says, looking down at her hands instead of me.
“It is,” I agree, watching her closely. She was excited for me before, but now I get the feeling she isn’t being honest. “But?” I prompt.
Her eyes flicker up to mine and she takes a deep breath. “You know he’s just talking about hiring you, right? It’s still a job. Just like it was before.”
I try to ignore the spark of irritation I feel. “I know that.”
“Okay.” She hesitates. “It’s just the way you described it just now, and the way you looked when you came over here…”
“What?”
“I thought maybe you and he were in a real relationship now. You know, dating.”
“That’s crazy. I know what he’s offering and it’s amazing. I mean, school for Luke? A nice neighborhood, no more worries about money. How can I say no to that?”
Jo reaches out to touch my hand. “Hey, I’m not saying you should say no. It really is an amazing offer. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t. I can handle it.”
I can. I have to. It’s a job. It’s just a really good job.
“Just remember it’s temporary, okay? Eventually DSHS will launch an investigation, realize that Patrick isn’t paying Luke’s child support, and then you’ll get some real help. This isn’t forever.”
I nod. “Of course. Besides, we’re just going over there for a trial weekend. Nothing’s set in stone.”
Jo still looks unsure. “That guy, Abbi, he’s gorgeous and smooth as hell. I wouldn’t blame you if you started feeling something for him.”
“I won’t!” I snap, instantly regretting it. I sigh. “I’m sorry. Please just be happy for me, okay?”
“I am. You know I am.”
“Thank you.”
Thomas comes into the living room, smiling at both of us. “You ladies wanna watch some TV?” he asks, plopping down between us.
He puts his arm around Jo, who hands him the remote. We watch a sitcom together, but I can’t enjoy it completely. I feel Jo’s eyes on me throughout the evening, the wary expression she wears whenever I catch her looking.
Everything’s okay. I’m just happy to have this job, one that will give Luke a good place to live. That’s all it is.
Chapter Twenty
I’m committed to treating the coming weekend at Mr. Thorne’s house as the trial we agreed to and nothing more. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s not to get your hopes up too soon, because if something looks too good to be true, it probably is. So I try my best to prepare myself for the very real possibility that Mr. Thorne’s proposition won’t work out, for a number of reasons. What if Luke doesn’t like it there? What if Mr. Thorne realizes he’s not really interested in bringing a child into his house after all, and calls the whole thing off? What if he doesn’t respect my time with Luke and gets annoyed about not being my first priority?
Still, I can’t help but fantasize about what it will be like, living with him, seeing him every day if we get to that point. Up until now I’ve only been at his house one or two nights a week, and it was always in a particular setting. This weekend we’ll be seeing each other during the day too, interacting with Luke around. How long does he see this arrangement of ours lasting? There’s so much I don’t know about him, about his past and his present. It’s scary, but not as scary as not giving this arrangement a chance. I know an opportunity like this won’t come around again, and I owe it to both Luke and myself to go into it with an open mind.
“When we get to Mr. Thorne’s house, I want you to be on your best behavior, okay?” I tell Luke. We’ve just crossed the bridge to Medina and we’re almost there.
“What does that mean?” he asks.
I have to smile at my own foolishness. Luke is a great kid and there’s really no point in my telling him this. “Nothing, hon,” I say, reaching out to take his hand. “You just be yourself.”
“Who else am I gonna be?” he says. “You’re silly, Mommy.”
“Yeah, I know.”
We arrive at the house at 3:58, and I draw a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. We’re not even out of the taxi before Mr. Thorne comes out of the house.
How does he do that? Is he always waiting by the window?
He smiles as he pays the driver, smiles as he unloads our bags, and smiles as he says hello to Luke.
“Hi,” I whisper, feeling shy.
“Hi,” he says back, gazing down upon me.
“Who lives here?” Luke asks.
“I do,” Mr. Thorne says, walking us to the door.
“Just you?”
He looks at me again. “Yes,” he says. “For now.”
“It sure is a big house. Are you rich?”
“Luke,” I scold gently. “You don’t ask people that.”
“Why not?” He stares up at me with wide, innocent eyes.
“You just don’t ask someone how much money they have. They might not like it.”
“Oh.” He turns to Mr. Thorne, tilting his head back to look up at him. “I’m sorry. I have fifteen dollars and seventy-five cents. It’s in my money jar.”
Mr. Thorne glances at me and I nod my head. Thankfully, the burglar didn’t get to Luke’s room before I interrupted him. He took the movies from the living room, but everything else of Luke’s was untouched.
“That’s a lot of money you’ve saved,” he says as we walk inside. “Good job!”
I wonder if he notices how Luke beams at him.
We remove our coats and shoes, and, standing on the polished hardwood floor in my socked feet with Luke’s old, muddy boots in my hand, the reality of the situation finally dawns on me. I’m bringing a child into this pristine house.
“Where should I put these?” I ask, holding up the boots. “Do you have a shoe rack or something?”
Mr. Thorne looks at the boots, frowning. Obviously, he doesn’t want them on his clean floors any more than I do. Shit, I hope he doesn’t change his mind about this. Kids mean mess, that’s just a fact, and Mr. Thorne is more than neat.
“Uh, no. Wait here.” He walks to the kitchen and returns with a dishtowel, which he places on the floor next to the door.
“This will have to do for now,” he says. “The coats go in the closet over there.”
Luke’s hand in mine, Mr. Thorne leads us down the hall, turning left to a part of the house I’ve never seen before. He pauses outside the last door, opening it slowly.
“Cool!” Luke exclaims.
The room is big, with light blue walls and large windows overlooking the lake. But that’s not what has my son enthralled. Absolutely everything is covered in Cars merchandise: There’s a Lightning McQueen race-car bed with sheets to match, red curtains with the same motif, movie posters on the wall, and a throw rug that looks like a racetrack with little toy cars on top. There’s a dresser and a nightstand in dark wood and a small flat-screen TV on the wall. On a low shelf, there are more toys and a few books.
I can’t believe he did this—that he remembered, and that he’d do so much for a boy he’s only met once.
“Do you like it?” Mr. Thorne asks Luke.
“This is for me?” Luke’s eyes are wide in disbelief.
“Just for you.”
My son walks into the room, slowly and unsurely at first. Then he turns to look at me. I blink back the tears in my eyes and nod my head.
“Oh my gosh!” he yells. “This is so cool! This is so cool!”
I watch as he runs around the room and jumps on the bed to roll around in it.
“It’s red!” he exclaims. “A red car!” Rolling off the bed again, he runs to us, barreling into Mr. Thorne.
“Thank you, thank you!” he pants, throwing his arms around Mr. Thorne’s leg. Before Mr. Thorne can say anything, Luke runs across the room to look at the toys.
“So I take it that he likes it,” Mr. Thorne says, giving me a smirk.
“It’s perfect,” I whisper. It’s the kind of room I would have made for Luke, if I’d been able to afford it. The fact that I couldn’t do it on my own fills me with regret, which I know is a useless emotion.
“There’s even a red car,” I say.
“I’m nothing if not observant.”
“He’s never going to want to leave,” I chuckle.
Mr. Thorne raises his eyebrows, nodding in a knowing way.
“You don’t play fair,” I tell him.
“Never said I would,” he replies. “Do you want to see your room? It’s right next to his.”
Honestly, I wouldn’t care if I had to sleep in the linen closet or on the floor next to Luke’s bed. This place is safe, and that’s all I want.
“Yes, please,” I tell him, anyway. “Luke, I’ll be in the next room, okay?”
“Uh-huh,” he answers, not looking up from his new books and toys. I shake my head, smiling. Mr. Thorne opens the door next to Luke’s room, motioning for me to go inside.
The room is beautiful, but I expected it to be. Mr. Thorne’s house is exquisitely decorated, after all, and this is no exception. It’s nothing like I imagined, though. I’m a little stunned by what I see.
“Don’t you like it?”