The Rebound Effect

by Linda Griffin

  Teresa reminded Chelsea of Aiden’s bedtime and her cell phone number posted on the refrigerator. “He’s eaten,” she said, “but there are leftovers if you get hungry,” and then she hurried to run a comb through her hair before Frank arrived. She had deliberately dressed down in contrast to her dinner-date outfit—dark jeans, a pullover sweater, sneakers, and no makeup except lipstick and a touch of eye shadow. If he didn’t like her this way, he didn’t like her.

  Apparently he did—he smiled when he saw her. He wore jeans too, with a long-sleeved blue shirt. “No bullet holes,” she commented.

  He laughed. “No, there wasn’t much danger of that.”

  “But two people were shot?”

  “Nobody died,” he assured her. “Except the shooter.”

  “I hate guns,” she said with feeling.

  “They do cause a lot of trouble,” he agreed. “This dude had a semi-automatic rifle. You know this movie has guns in it?” He opened the car door for her.

  “Yes,” she said. “But it’s Tom Hanks.”

  On the drive in to the Cineplex 16 in Powell City, he told her a little more about the standoff. The victims, a man and a woman, were hospitalized but in good condition. “It was tense, but not too dangerous. Just more overtime pay for me.” She imagined he was downplaying the danger for her sake, but he was certainly matter-of-fact about it.

  They talked about movies too, and soon she was so inexplicably comfortable with him she found herself telling him about her failed marriage. “Sorry,” she said. “Whining about my ex again.”

  “No, no,” he said. “I want to know everything about you. Obviously, it’s his loss, but I guess it’s hard on a man to realize his son isn’t perfect.”

  “I still think he’s perfect!” Teresa said, bristling.

  “I’m sure you do. Mother love—nothing like it. It’s harder for us mere mortals.”

  “You haven’t said anything about your family. Do they live around here?”

  “No, they’re sort of scattered now, but mostly back east.”

  “Big family?”

  “Three brothers and two sisters, more nieces and nephews than I can keep track of.”

  “But no kids of your own?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Do you want children?” It should have been a first-date question. She shouldn’t waste her time with a man who would never accept Aiden.

  “Oh, yes,” he said emphatically, “with the right woman,” and he gave her an intimidatingly sexy grin. “I’d like to have the kind of family my parents did—big and noisy. Are you an only child?”

  “I have a brother, Richard. He sells insurance and coaches Little League in Los Angeles.”

  “He sounds nice and boring.”

  “A little boring, but he’s a good guy.”

  “Sometimes boring is good.” It was something Teresa’s mother said, and it made her feel even more relaxed.

  The movie was definitely not boring. During a particularly tense scene, Frank’s hand closed on hers, and she felt something like gratitude. After the first date kiss, she had had visions of movie dates from high school that had developed into total grab fests, but this was nothing like that. His hand was warm and comforting. They were two adults watching a very gripping movie and enjoying it together.

  When it was over, they headed for the lobby in complete silence, and then he said, “Wow!”

  “Yeah,” she said. “It was great.” She was slightly tearful and afraid he would think she was silly, but he squeezed her hand in sympathy.

  “So what do you think?” he asked. “Pizza?”

  “Pizza would be perfect.”

  “More perfect than the Perfect Place, anyway?”

  She laughed. “It was nice too, but pizza goes better with a movie.”

  Discussing what they’d seen and munching pizza at the nearby Tony’s was so much fun they stayed longer than they had intended, and Teresa was afraid Chelsea would be angry or worried. “I’m sure she’ll be glad of the overtime,” Frank said. “I’ll pay her a little extra.”

  “No—that’s my job!” she protested.

  “Nonsense, it’s much easier for me, and you know it. I’ll drive her home too.”

  “She has her bicycle.”

  “A bicycle? This time of night?”

  “She has a light, and she lives just down the road. I can watch her most of the way from my front porch.”

  “Still, a young girl alone after dark?”

  “This is Cougar, not the big city. It’s safe.”

  “Oh, yeah? Tell it to the families of Wade Linedecker’s victims.”

  “They weren’t killed here,” she objected.

  “Two of them weren’t. The third we don’t know about—she hasn’t been identified, and Linedecker claims he didn’t kill her. He’s probably just trying to keep from further incriminating himself, but…”

  “Well, that’s a little unsettling, but I’m sure Chelsea will be fine.”

  Somehow the discussion about safety distracted her from the payment issue, and while she reminded Chelsea to be careful, Frank folded bills into the girl’s hand. “I’ll be glad to drive you home if you like,” he said.

  “No, thanks,” she said blithely, gathered her books, and headed out the door. “’Bye, Mrs. Lansing.”

  They stood on the porch until she was out of sight, and then he took Teresa’s hand and gave her a quick, pepperoni-spicy kiss. “Can I stay?” he asked.

  “No, Frank. It was a wonderful evening. Thank you for everything.”

  “Come on,” he coaxed. He kissed her again, this time with an intensity that left her both shaken and wanting more. His hand was on her breast, and he was pressed up against her. “You want to,” he said. “You know you do.”

  She did, or part of her did. “No, I don’t,” she said, laughing, trying to keep things light.

  “Yeah, you do.” He caressed her cheek and kissed her again. “You make me crazy. It’s been such a great evening. Let’s not end it here.”

  “I’m afraid we have to.”

  He kissed her again. “Come on, Teresa.” He said her name in a caressing way, as if it was the tenderest of endearments.

  “No, Frank. It’s too soon. Keep in mind I have a little boy in the house who is still sad about a previous breakup.”

  “He can’t hear us,” he reminded her.

  “No, but he might get up in the night with a bad dream or something.”

  “Does he do that a lot?”

  “No,” she admitted, “almost never, but—”

  “We could lock the door,” he said. He didn’t sound entirely serious, as if he were teasing, but she didn’t think he was. “If he comes knocking, I’ll hide in the closet.”

  “My closet is very crowded,” she said, trying to match his tone.

  “So it’s a no? You're shutting me down?”

  “Yes, Frank.”

  He let her go. “You did with the schoolteacher, though, right?”

  “I can’t think of any reason why I would want to answer that question,” she said. She was afraid she sounded self-righteous or angry. She wasn’t, but she needed him to know where she drew the lines.

  “Yeah, okay,” he said. “I can see I need to earn this. I’d better take my bad self home. Good night, Teresa.”

  “Good night, Frank.”

  When he was gone, she went in to check on Aiden. He was sleeping peacefully, one hand tucked under his cheek, his soft blond hair rumpled. She bent to kiss the top of his head. “You’re the man in my life,” she whispered. “I don’t need anybody else.”

  Still, it did feel good to be wanted again, after feeling so bruised by Brett’s infidelity.

  Chapter 5

  The mail was delivered before Teresa left for work on Monday, including a small package addressed in familiar handwriting. She opened it, exasperated but curious. It was a CD, the Johnny Nash version of “Tears on My Pillow.”

  “Brett, you big dope!” s
he said out loud. She played it while she folded the towels, still warm from the dryer. The lyrics didn’t fit their situation—she hadn’t walked out of his life to his best friend. She had chosen her son over his worthless hide, though, and Brett and Aiden had been very good friends. And the rest…well, he should have thought of that sooner. She hoped he wasn’t going to be a nuisance. As always, her first impulse was to tell Alix, her confidant in everything. She called her immediately, while the mournful song was still playing in the background.

  “Can you believe it?” she asked.

  “Crocodile tears,” Alix pronounced. “Never mind dopey Brett. How was your da-a-ate?”

  “It was good. A lot of fun.”

  “Yeah, but how was it?”

  “It was good.”

  “You didn’t do it—did you?”

  “No, but he wanted to. He said he was an adrenaline junkie; maybe he likes the thrill of the chase. I’ll tell you what, between him and Brett, I haven’t been this popular since I had a new bike in the third grade!”

  “A red one with streamers on the handles.”

  “And you were so jealous.” It was the great thing about talking to Alix. She got every reference, shared every memory.

  “Was not. So, whaddya think?”

  Teresa sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to make of him. We have the same taste in movies, which is nice, and he’s easy to talk to. He can be funny and sweet too—plus he’s very sexy.”

  “Yeah, he is kind of easy on the eyes.”

  “Are you jealous?”

  “No, no, I’m through with all of that.”

  “I thought I was too.”

  “Yeah, be careful. You know what they say about the rebound.”

  “He acts like he really likes me, but I keep thinking this is the guy in the Mary Higgins Clark novel who turns out to be the serial killer.”

  “Yeah, or your long-lost brother.”

  “Eww! I’ll keep that in mind next time. He’s a cop, so he’s probably not a serial killer, right? He would have had to pass a background check?”

  “Which only means he didn’t get caught. No telling what he got away with. Don’t let him cut your head off—it’s so messy.”

  Alix could always make her laugh.

  ****

  Frank called Tuesday evening when she had just gotten home from work, still damp from a sudden shower of rain. Thunder rumbled in the distance while she struggled to sound intelligent and composed instead of flustered and tongue-tied. “Are you busy?” he asked.

  “I’m about to be,” she said. Aiden was putting groceries away in all the wrong places. Was there ever a time when a single mother wasn’t busy?

  “I’ll be quick, then. Have you ever been to Grey Harbor?”

  “My dad used to have a fishing boat, and he took me out from there once.”

  “You know how to fish?” He was impressed.

  “Not really, but I did catch something that day. I forget what it was, but it was big, and a seal took a bite out of it before I could reel it in.” Sun suddenly slanted through the kitchen window, and she held the phone against her shoulder and signed to Aiden, “Look for rainbow.” She pointed toward the east-facing front door, and he ran into the living room.

  “How old were you?” Frank asked.

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Well, I think it’s time you went back—to Grey Harbor, I mean, not fishing. I thought we could take your boy up and spend the weekend. It would be a good chance for me to get to know him, and we could have a great time. Kids like the beach, right? We could even visit the cove where the seals are.”

  Teresa couldn’t think what she should object to first. “The weekend?” she said. “I think it’s still too soon—for Aiden, I mean. A brief meeting would be better first, and—”

  “It would be a lot of fun for him, though, Teresa, and I’m not going to push anything, I promise. It would be very low-key, just hanging out. They have a very nice hotel with three-queen loft rooms—two queen beds downstairs and one up in a loft. I thought he would think it was fun—being up there—and the view is great, and the hotel has little windows we can leave open all night so we can hear the surf.”

  “Mama!” Aiden called.

  “It sounds nice, but I don’t think we should take him anywhere together yet.”

  He was silent for a second before he said, “You know best, I’m sure. How about if the two of us go this weekend, and if you like it we can do it another time with the boy.”

  “Overnight?”

  “Yes, there’s a lot to see, and it’s a long drive home after dark. It would be much more relaxing to take our time.”

  “Mama! Rainbow!”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Come on, it will be fun. No pressure, I promise. Two beds. Nothing will happen unless you want it to. We can even get a loft room, and you can sleep upstairs.”

  “Mama!” Aiden called loudly enough that Frank must have heard.

  She felt pulled in two directions and couldn’t think clearly or she might not have said, “Yes, all right. I have to go, Frank.”

  The rainbow was spectacular.

  ****

  As soon as Aiden was in bed, she called Alix. “We-ell,” Alix said skeptically. “I think you should go if you want to, but don’t kid yourself nothing is going to happen.”

  “His original plan was to have Aiden with us, though.”

  “Maybe you should take him. He could be your little chaperone.”

  “That’s not his job, and I don’t want him to be stuck spending a whole weekend with a man he doesn’t know. Frank is kind of a strong personality, and he doesn’t know anything about kids. It could be a disaster.”

  “Do you want to spend a whole weekend with a man you barely know, a man with a strong personality and a shitload of testosterone?”

  “I don’t have a clue! I feel like I need to slow this down, but at the same time…I always wondered what this would be like—a whirlwind romance, being swept off my feet. It’s exciting, but is it real? I sort of want to find out. It’s probably bullshit, but being courted is nice. What I don’t want is to be away from my son so long. Weekends are very important.”

  “He’ll survive. Mama has to have some fun too. You can be a better mom if you take care of yourself first. I’ll think of something cool for him and Sasha to do, and he won’t even miss you.”

  “But you’ll be at the grill in the evening, and—”

  “We’ll work it out—if you want to go. If you don’t, just explain about Aiden. If he’s going to romance single mothers, he should learn to be patient where the kids are concerned.”

  “I’m not sure I should have gone out with him the first time. It’s too soon after Brett. I don’t know what to do. I like him, but he’s trying to go too fast for me.”

  “So speak up for yourself. Repeat after me: Frank, you’re moving too fast for me.”

  “I said I would go.”

  “So unsay it. If it pisses him off, he’ll leave you alone. If it was meant to be, he’ll come back when you’re ready.”

  Teresa sighed. “You always make it sound so simple.”

  “Because it is. Oh, I love running your love life. It’s so much less messy than having my own.”

  “I’ve never spent even one night with any man except Gene and Brett—and you know they didn’t move this fast.”

  “Well, kiddo, if you don’t want to go too far, just don’t shave your legs.”

  Teresa laughed. She felt better, but she knew nothing was settled.

  ****

  She called Frank the next day. He was at work but said he wasn’t busy and it was a good time to talk. She wanted to negotiate. He had in mind spending the whole weekend at the coast, going late Friday and coming back early Sunday evening. It would be too much for Aiden, and it was too long for her to be away from him—longer than she ever had been. She suggested they drive over Saturday morning, not too early, and come back
Sunday afternoon. He sounded relaxed and quickly put her at ease, and once again she found him almost too easy to talk to. She ended up telling him almost the entire conversation with Alix.

  He laughed. “Nothing you do is going to piss me off,” he said warmly. “I told you I’m the tenacious kind. And I don’t want to rush you—we’ll take it at your pace, always. It’s totally up to you. I had a head start—before you even noticed I was around. And just so you know: you don’t have to shave anything for me.”

  “I can’t believe I told you that! It’s a girl secret.”

  “Believe it or not, I’ve heard it before. I have two sisters, remember? And I was married. Question is: do you want me to shave? I hear some women like it scratchy.”

  Teresa laughed. “This is a very bizarre conversation.”

  “Yeah, it is—and I gotta go.” He hung up. He was at work, after all.

  She had second thoughts—lots of them. She worried and wondered. What she didn’t do was pick up the phone and cancel. Frank must have made a reservation by now—a hotel like the one he had described was bound to be booked up early. She saw no way to back out—unless Aiden got sick—and she needed to trust Frank’s promise to follow her lead. She needed to relax and let herself have fun.

  ****

  On Thursday, she was doing inventory at the vet clinic when she heard a tentative rap on the door. Veronica wouldn’t have knocked, and clients shouldn’t have been back there, but she didn’t want to stop what she was doing and said, “Come in,” without looking up.

  The door opened halfway, and a familiar voice said, “It’s me—hat in hand.” Brett. He opened it the rest of the way and added, “Except I don’t wear a hat.”

  “I’m working, Brett.”

  “I know. I’m sorry, but you won’t let me see Aiden, and this is the only other place—I really need to talk to you.”

  “We have nothing to say. And don’t send me stuff—it’s just embarrassing to both of us.”

  He shook his head. “When did you get so hard?”

  “When you screwed Lacey Norman.”

  He winced. “I was drunk. I—”

  That made her mad. “How many times did we agree you are responsible, legally and morally, for whatever you do after you choose to consume alcohol?”