“Hey,” he said, nodding at them both before sauntering over and pulling open the refrigerator door.
“Hey, yourself, kid. How about you come back and say hello to our neighbor,” Ben said, his voice not particularly stern.
Ethan turned around. “Hi, neighbor. Are you Mia’s mom?”
“Yes, and you must be Ethan.”
“Yep. Nice to meet you. She’s really good at math. Does she ever tutor anybody?”
“Um, I don’t know. She’s never mentioned it.”
“Oh, well, if she wants to, I could use some help.” He turned back to the fridge and pulled out an apple and a package of sandwich meat. “I’ve got a ton of homework, Dad. Mind if I just take this upstairs and get to it?”
“No, that’s fine, but before you go, what color do you want your bedroom painted?”
Ethan looked back at him as if Ben had asked if he’d rather have toast . . . or toast. As if that’s how much difference it made to him. “Um, I don’t know. Blue? Brown? What’s wrong with the color that it is right now?”
“What color is it right now?” Ben asked. “I can’t remember.”
Ethan took a bite of the apple before responding, “Neither can I. I’ll go check.”
Carli chuckled as he walked away. “Boys are so different from girls. It took Tess an hour and a half to choose between two shades of periwinkle that were virtually the exact same color.”
Ben stared back at the splotches but didn’t seem to really be seeing them. “I took Addie to the furniture store, and we spent at least three hours choosing a bed and a desk, and I’m not honestly sure she likes what we ended up with. I think she just wanted to get it over with. She’s not . . .” He hesitated briefly before finishing. “She’s not super thrilled about bouncing between two houses. She hasn’t stayed here yet.” Now he glanced down at the floor.
Carli nodded, noticing his slightly dejected expression. “It’s a tough adjustment. My kids have to share a bedroom when they go over to their dad’s place, and you’d think he was making them share a single toothbrush and rationing out the toilet paper, but he also has a pool, so being there in the summer wasn’t so bad. They have the advantage of being able to drive, so they can move back and forth a lot easier. It’s just . . . it’s hard. And it takes a while before it feels normal.”
“Normal,” he said. “What I wouldn’t give for a little bit of that.”
“Yeah, me too. The holidays will be . . . a challenge.”
“How long have you been divorced?” he asked.
“My ex-husband moved out in January. It took until July for things to be official, but essentially, January. How about you?”
He paused for a moment, and she thought he might deflect the question, but he didn’t. “I’m in the process now, and it’s going to take a while. My . . . wife—technically she’s still my wife, but anyway—she’s currently shacking up with my business partner, so as you can imagine, there are quite a few layers to sort through before we get to any final settlement.”
Carli found herself wincing sympathetically at his statement. “Ouch,” she said. “That sucks.”
She should have said something more compassionate and articulate, but he actually smiled at her response.
“Right? I think so, too. It sucks. For me, for my kids, for my company’s employees and clients. But hey, at least my wife is happy.”
The sarcasm didn’t completely disguise the hurt.
“I’m sorry you’re going through this,” she said. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re holding up amazingly well. When Steve left, I spent most of my days in bed, hiding under the covers. I’d drag myself out when the kids were around, but if they were at Steve’s, I’d be in bed. I didn’t even turn on the TV. But it passed, and I found my way back. It does get easier.”
Well, that was an embarrassing overshare. Carli wasn’t in the habit of telling people she hardly knew that she’d spent almost entire weeks in bed.
But Ben nodded, seeming to understand. “Before moving here, I’d been sleeping in the guest room at my sister’s house, but since it doubles as her workout room, staying in bed wasn’t an option for me. Plus, she’s a therapist and kept making me talk about everything, but there were definitely times I thought about driving away in my car and never turning around. I haven’t thought about doing that in a while, though, so I guess it does get better. I mean, I can tell it’s getting better. I just wish it would get more better, faster.”
He smiled at her then, and she wondered if he realized how handsome he was when he did that.
Chapter 18
Another day, another flyer in Ben’s mailbox announcing some neighborhood social event that he was either invited to or was in some way expected to participate in. He’d skipped the Fifth Annual Back to School Water Balloon Fight at the bus stop, because his kids drove and didn’t go to the bus stop. If he’d gone, he’d have looked like a pervert. Just some random old guy hanging around a bus stop. No, thanks. He’d also avoided the Third Annual Choir Boosters Car Wash, because no way in hell was he letting an overly excited cluster of teenagers lather up his Lexus with dish soap and spray it with a garden hose. Nor had he attended the Autumn Fest. So chances were pretty good he’d skip whatever event this one was, too.
“You can’t skip it,” Carli told him later that evening. She’d been taking Gus for a walk, but the dog had decided to drop an enormous load of poop right in front of his house. Good thing he and Carli were on friendly terms now or he might have thought she’d gotten the dog to do the doo-doo on purpose.
“When I bought this house, no one told me I was moving onto the set of a Disney movie,” he complained.
“What do you mean, a Disney movie?”
He unfolded the orange sheet of paper that he’d stuffed into the pocket of his jeans. It was cut into the shape of a pumpkin, and across the top it read, Tenth Annual Monroe Circle Halloween Hayride. He held it up and waved it a little.
“This. It says there’s a hayride through the neighborhood on the Saturday before Halloween and that I’m strongly encouraged to put up decorations, but I have neither the time nor the inclination to clutter up my yard with ghosts or goblins or tombstones or whatever the hell else they think I’m supposed to do. Who is in charge of all this stuff, anyway?”
“We have a neighborhood social committee.”
“Well, it’s excessive.”
Carli frowned at him. “Way to put the F-U in fun, Ben. Why are you so crabby?”
He was crabby because mediation had come to a halt thanks to Sophia’s refusal to complete a discovery questionnaire about all the purchases she’d made since Ben had moved out, and Doug was being an entire bag of dicks about the valuation of their company as they negotiated Ben’s buyout settlement. To top it all off, his mother had set him up on a date with an old friend of the family, and he was in no mood to make idle chitchat with some woman he hadn’t seen in twenty years. Especially one who’d been thoroughly vetted by his mother.
“I just have a lot of shit going on, and none of it includes me carving pumpkins.”
“But the hayride goes right by our houses, and then it stops at the end of the street so everyone can have cider and doughnuts at Renee’s house. All the little kids wear their costumes, and they’re all so ridiculously adorable you won’t even be able to stand it.”
“I already can’t stand it. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. No part of that sounds appealing to me.”
Her eyes narrowed, and he felt himself being thoroughly judged. This was not unusual with Carli. He’d learned that as she’d helped him choose his paint colors. She’d also helped him pick out some area rugs and even some artwork for Addie’s room, because, according to Carli, he must be colorblind and possibly regular blind, too.
“When the Mortons lived in that house, they put up a ton of stuff, and it was very impressive. All the kids are going to expect you to do something. Mr. Piddles even had a little skeleton costume.” Her judgmental
squint was replaced with a teasing grin.
“You are killing me with this right now,” he said, shaking the orange paper pumpkin again, but she laughed at his discomfort, and he found his mood lifting ever so slightly. She seemed to have that impact on him.
“At least get one of those big inflatable things or something,” Carli said. “Those take like ten minutes to set up. Are you always this much of a Halloween grinch, or is it just this year?”
Ben scoffed and folded the paper back up to put in his pocket. “I’m not a Halloween grinch. I always helped hand out the candy in my old neighborhood. Isn’t that enough? Just handing out candy on the actual night of Halloween?”
“Well, of course you’ll need to hand out candy on Halloween night,” she said as if her point were so obvious she could hardly believe she even had to say it out loud. “And here’s a tip, since you’re new to Monroe Circle. Give out full-size candy bars or cans of pop. The kids love that, and then they’ll remember to leave your house alone the next time they feel like egging somebody. Trust me, it’s worth the investment.”
“Full-size candy bars? How many kids are we talking about?” The real estate agent had told him there were almost 150 houses in this subdivision, and assuming the average American family had 2.5 kids, that meant . . . a lot of candy bars. Carli must be joking.
“Plan on around two hundred.”
“Two hundred? Two hundred kids are going to ring my frickin’ doorbell? That’s insane. We had, like, fifty kids in my old neighborhood.” His head hurt already. Maybe he’d just leave his house dark and go to a bar that evening.
Carli smiled at him brightly as if to counterbalance his lousy attitude. “What can I say? It’s a very fertile neighborhood. You’ll score some points with the parents if you also have wine coolers or beers on hand, too. For the ones walking around with the trick-or-treaters. It’s not mandatory, of course, but always appreciated.”
“Now I know you’re joking.”
“I’m totally not joking, but listen, it occurs to me that I have a ton of decorations and I was planning to weed through them this weekend and probably get rid of a bunch of stuff. If you want, you can have whatever I’m done with. I’ll trade you for it. If you’ll help me hang my big spider on the front of my house, I’ll give you some decorations.”
He wanted to say no. He didn’t want to be coerced into decorating his house, and he didn’t want to waste the time, either. But Carli was standing there with a big, silly smile on her face, all but daring him to say yes. And God damn it, that woman was getting under his skin.
“Oh, come on, Ben,” she teased. “Don’t be a hallo-weenie.” Then she burst out laughing at her own inane joke, and he knew right then that he’d give in. She was very convincing, and there was something irresistible about the way she looked in her tattered jeans and an oversize sweater, her hair fluttering from the gentle wind. She was the walking embodiment of the girl next door. And she laughed a lot, which was nice to hear, even when it was at his expense.
“You’re not amusing,” he said, his tone purposefully dry. He pointed to the dog, who was gazing around, droll as an old monk. “Look,” Ben said, pointing at him, “even your dog thinks you’re not funny.”
“You think I’m hilarious, don’t you, Gus,” Carli said later that night as her now eighty-pound dog snuggled up against her. She never should’ve let him start sleeping in the bed. When he’d only been forty, and then fifty, and then sixty pounds, it had been bad enough, but now he took up one entire side of her king-size bed. He should be done growing, at least, and it was nice to have him there to guard her. Especially on a night like tonight, when she was home alone and the wind was blowing, making howling sounds as it curved around the eaves. It was comforting to have another warm, lovable creature in the house. And in the event that anyone ever tried to break in—which was about a 0.000001 percent chance, given the neighborhood she lived in—Gus would certainly deter any criminal. He’d probably want to lick them to death, but no robber would wait around to find out if a dog this big was friendly before hightailing it the hell out of there.
Gus pressed a little closer, doing his very best impression of a lapdog as Carli adjusted the pillows behind her head. It was nearly eleven and she had to work in the morning, but for some reason she was feeling antsy and restless. And it wasn’t because her room wasn’t relaxing now. The walls were now that nice pale pink, and her fluffy new comforter was on the bed, along with her fresh and floral sheets. All remnants of Steve were gone. She’d even splurged on a new mattress, because it just seemed like the right thing to do, and Renee had painted and antiqued her dark cherry dresser, giving it a shabby-chic vibe that Carli loved. Pictures of her and the kids were in new, shiny silver frames. Everything in the room now was about her and her kids and their new life. It still wasn’t perfect, but it was hers.
She reached over and turned off her lamp just as a car pulled into the driveway next door. From habit, Carli peeked outside to see what Ben was up to. She watched from the darkness of her room as he got out and then walked around to the other side. He opened the passenger door, and a strange, hollow feeling filled Carli’s stomach as she watched a woman get out and lean against him. Well, not so much lean against him as fall against him. She was either a little drunk or very familiar with him and his body. Or both. He caught her arm, and Carli could hear the faint sounds of feminine laughter.
It would seem Ben Chase was entertaining a lady friend. And that was certainly his business and none of hers, so the faint heaviness filling her limbs made no sense. He was her neighbor, not her boyfriend. Good Lord, they were just barely friends. Sure, they’d had a handful of conversations over the past few weeks about the bittersweet burden of raising kids and a few generalized, global exchanges about the horrors of divorce, but mostly they’d talked about inconsequential things and helped each other with paint choices and furniture moving. It was all just neighbor stuff. She couldn’t even say they’d flirted with each other, although there had been a moment here or there when she’d caught an appreciative glint in his eye. Or so she’d thought. Maybe not, though.
She tried to shake off whatever emotion was weighing her down. Because it was actually good that Ben had a woman in his life. Good for him. She continued watching out the window as the woman stumbled on the front step and Ben looped an arm around her waist, helping her to the door. They disappeared inside, and a moment later, the kitchen lights went on, and Carli realized it was time to stop spying on her neighbor and his date.
Yep. Good for Ben.
Chapter 19
“Do I really have to be here, Mom? I could be studying right now.”
Mia was no fan of sports. Or crowds. Or school spirit. So sitting in the Glenville High School gymnasium at a volleyball game was akin to cruel and inhumane treatment as far as she was concerned. Every time the announcer announced or the buzzer buzzed, she’d jump like someone had poked her with a cattle prod.
“Yes, you have to be here. It’s your sister’s very first game, and she deserves our support.” Even if the team was terrible. Maybe that was all the more reason to cheer her on, although Carli didn’t particularly want to be there, either. She was still getting used to being back at work full-time, and the early-morning schedule was harsh. The gym was hot and had that uniquely icky gymnasium smell of funky shoes and stinky boys and concession-stand popcorn. The bleachers were hard, and Carli’s back was already stiff after just fifteen minutes of sitting there. At least it wasn’t crowded. Girls’ volleyball didn’t bring in much of a crowd. In fact, it was pretty much just parents of the players, a few dedicated grandparents, and a smattering of sullen siblings who’d been dragged here against their will like Mia.
“Do you want something to eat?” Carli said. “You could go get a pretzel or something.” The only thing worse than bored Mia was hungry, bored Mia.
“Um . . . there’s Dad,” Mia said in response, and Carli’s stiff back was suddenly the least of her problems.
“Oh, that was nice of him to come,” Carli said, in much the same way one might say it was nice of the coroner to come examine the dead body. “I’m sure Tess will be glad to see him.”
Her eyes scanned the entrance, and she caught sight of Steve quickly as he came in through the double doors. She lifted her hand to give him a wave, but her arm stopped midway and then dropped to her side.
That fucker had brought a date.
He’d brought a date to Tess’s very first volleyball game.
Steve spotted them and smiled broadly, almost jovially, because why wouldn’t he? He gave a quick wave and then that hand moved to the small of the woman’s back as he guided her up the steps of the bleachers. So . . . this was how he was going to do it? Introduce his ex-wife to the new woman in his life at a school event? He couldn’t have mentioned something about her during their fourteen-hour car ride when they’d visited Fairfield College? Or maybe shot Carli a text before the game to say, “Oh, by the way . . .” Nope, instead he was going to do it this way. In front of all these people.
Okay, so technically there weren’t that many people because . . . girls’ volleyball, but the people sitting on the bleachers knew them. They knew Steve and Carli were divorced. And they’d certainly be eyeing them all to see how this situation went down. Her heart sped up, and she wished she’d worn something nicer than a Glenville Raiders sweatshirt. Honestly, what was he thinking? He should’ve warned her. Then again, anticipating or caring about how his actions might impact other people wasn’t really his style. And even if he had suspected this might be a bit uncomfortable for Carli, he knew she wouldn’t cause a scene. Carli never caused a scene. It was both a blessing and a curse. She was able to keep her calm under almost any circumstances, and yet, maybe if she had caused a scene once in a while, Steve would’ve been more motivated to be a better husband. Probably not, but maybe.
The New Normal Page 15