Renee stood there in shock, knowing she should be upset, but feeling oddly pleased by the backhanded compliment.
Today was an exercise day with the girls. Wearing shorts, tennis shoes, and a T-shirt, Renee moved briskly with her friends as they walked through Adelaide’s neighborhood.
“So how are the kids doing?” Jackie asked Adelaide. They both wore joggers and tank tops.
Having wanted children for years, Jackie was constantly asking about someone else’s kids. If she were in the vicinity of a baby, you could be sure she’d find a way to get the little bundle in her arms.
“They’re great. Junior is loving his photography work, and Karen found a part-time job to help supplement the income she lost when her temp assignment ended.” Karen was an actress, currently in New York trying to find work in the theater.
“It must be so tough being in a new city, trying to make ends meet.”
“But she also has Hector and Adelaide to fall back on,” Renee reminded Jackie.
Jackie laughed. “True. Wish you guys were my parents. My parents soundly discouraged me from starting my own business, which in fact forced me to want to do it even more.”
“We can always trust you to do the exact opposite of what you’re told,” Adelaide said.
They laughed and kept up the pace. As they passed by one of Adelaide’s neighbors working in the yard, they all waved at him. He was one of their favorite parts of the neighborhood when they went on their walks. In the summertime, he was always outside working in the yard, shirtless. Today was no different. Holding clippers, with bulging muscles and a slim waist, he trimmed the hedges in front of his house with his dark brown skin glistening with sweat.
“God broke the mold when he made that man,” Jackie murmured.
“Amen,” Adelaide and Renee said at the same time.
Once again, the ladies cracked up.
“What’s the latest on the adoption?” Adelaide asked, directing the question to Jackie.
“Still going through the assessment process. They told me it could take up to six months, but I thought that was a conservative estimate. Seems like it really will be the full six months.”
“What happens after that?” Renee asked.
“Then I get to choose my kid.” Jackie grinned. “I’m annoyed by this whole process, but I know it’ll be worth it once I find my child. I just feel weird about going online and looking through the photos—as if they’re in a catalog.”
“I understand your discomfort, but I think it would be harder on the kids if you had people coming in and looking them over like cattle.”
“Good point,” Jackie said.
They moved into single file to accommodate one of the residents walking her dog. Another resident that knew Adelaide honked at them, and she waved in return.
Back in formation, Renee said, “I have some news about me and Clive.”
“With that wide grin on your face, it must be really good,” Jackie said.
Feeling a surge of exuberance, Renee pumped her arms harder. “He asked me to spend Fourth of July with him. Oh, and we’ve been sleeping together.”
Adelaide stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and Jackie followed suit. Renee swung around and looked at them.
“Way to bury the lede. We’ve been walking for almost twenty minutes, and you’re only now telling us that you’ll be spending the holiday with your new lover man?” Adelaide asked.
Pumping her arms, Jackie walked in place. “Let’s keep moving, ladies. Remember, walk and talk.”
She took off and her friends fell into step beside her.
“Details,” Adelaide said.
“Where do I begin? We hardly have anything in common. I mean, he’s blue-collar and a former athlete—exactly the kind of man I’ve avoided all my life. Look at who my husbands were. Yet…I really like him. And he’s such a gentleman. He opens doors and insists on paying for dinner when we go out. A lot of men don’t do that anymore, especially when they find out you have your own money.” Not to mention he didn’t judge when he found out that she had been married three times.
“True.” Jackie nodded.
“I really couldn’t stand the man before, but now I’m sleeping with him—literally sleeping with the enemy. Can you believe it? I don’t know how that happened.”
“Girl, you are way too old for that. You know how it happened,” Jackie said dryly.
“Thank you for your commentary,” Renee said.
“I’m just saying, that didn’t take long.”
Laughing, Adelaide shook her head as she pumped her arms and kept pace with them. “So, what’s this about the Fourth of July? You’re dumping me this year?”
Renee groaned and grimaced guiltily. “I’ll still come by earlier in the day and then head over to Clive’s later. He’s having friends over and asked me to join them.”
“The same friends that you always complain block the street and are way too loud?” Jackie peered around Adelaide to look at Renee.
“The same ones. He said he’d try to keep the noise down,” Renee said defensively. “Adelaide, would it be too much trouble for you to make a dessert for me?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“How about a lemon cake with glaze? The one you made before was absolutely delicious.”
“Oh sure. That’s pretty easy. You can pick it up when you come over during the day.”
“Perfect.”
Renee noticed Jackie watching her from the corner of her eye. “What, Jackie?”
“Nothing. It’s good to see you getting back out in the dating game after being gone for so long. Welcome back.” Her friend smiled, clearly happy for her.
Renee laughed. “You know what, it feels pretty damn good.”
12
Standing in front of Clive’s door, Renee took a deep breath and slowly released it. The lemon cake in her hands felt like an anvil, and her pulse beat an erratic rhythm beneath her skin.
Tonight was momentous. This wasn’t simply a Fourth of July barbecue. This was a barbecue at the home of the man she’d been sleeping with for weeks, and she’d be introduced to his friends.
She rang the doorbell and Chelsea opened the door with a bright, welcoming smile, looking very patriotic in jeans, a T-shirt with the American flag on the front, and a red, white, and blue-striped ribbon holding her hair in a ponytail.
“Hello, Miss Joseph, come on in.”
“Thank you.” Hiding her nervousness, Renee gave her best smile.
“Oh, what’s that?” Chelsea asked.
“Glazed lemon cake. Your father told me I didn’t need to bring a dish, but I didn’t feel comfortable coming empty-handed.”
“You baked this?” Chelsea asked, taking the covered dish.
“I wish. I have a friend who loves to cook and bake. I asked her to make a dessert for this evening.”
“Nice friend. Everyone is in the back. Follow me.”
Renee did just that, taking stock of the inside of the house as she did. Despite their budding relationship, this was the first time she’d been inside Clive’s home. In the past, she’d only seen the interior from the outside as she brought back his dog.
They walked through the spacious living room with walnut floors and heavy furniture dominating the space. The dining room was smack-dab in the middle of the path to the kitchen and contained a long table that seated eight and a china cabinet that actually contained a chinaware set that might have belonged to his deceased wife.
The house looked as she’d expect a contractor’s house to look—with upgrades of crown molding, fairly new-looking carpet, and modern appliances in the kitchen.
Still balancing the cake dish in her hand, Chelsea led Renee out the back door. “Renee’s here,” she announced, making eye contact with her father, who held court with a can of beer in his hand and his back against the deck railing.
Chelsea dipped back into the kitchen and left Renee hovering near the door.
There was
a bigger group tonight. Eight guys and four women sat outside on the deck. In the yard, Margie ran around with a dog and a biracial-looking boy and girl who appeared to be a year or two younger.
“You made it,” Clive said, pushing away from the railing. He looked extra sexy tonight in a short-sleeved Henley and jeans. An easy smile crossed his face and he came over to where she stood and slipped an arm around her back. “Everybody, this is Renee, my neighbor.”
Her cheeks heated at the attention.
“Oh,” a few of them said.
“Uh-oh,” someone muttered.
By their responses, they all knew she and Clive had had problems in the past. They’d probably heard the Miss Grumpy moniker a time or two.
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to break up the party. Clive and I are friends now. I even like the dog,” she said.
Her words broke the ice, and they all started laughing.
One of the men, a tall man with mahogany skin who looked more like a basketball player than a football player, stood. “Hi, Renee. I’m Jayson.”
“Hi, Jayson. Nice to meet you.”
He motioned to the chair he’d vacated and she sat down.
“Thank you.”
Everyone introduced themselves, and Renee learned the parents of the kids playing with Chelsea were Jayson and a blonde woman named Sasha who had a tight body and appeared significantly younger than most of them at the party. She looked about twenty-eight.
Renee hadn’t eaten much at Adelaide’s but brought home a plate so she’d have food for tomorrow, which meant she was now hungry and gladly filled her plate with some of the offerings on display. There were hamburgers and hotdogs, but she selected what turned out to be a delicious grilled chicken breast, grilled veggies, and grilled fruit for dessert. The meal was a lot healthier than she’d expected, but maybe not so surprising, considering all the men had been athletes.
Clive went back to his position at the railing, and Renee sat near him with the plate on her lap, listening to the interesting stories the men told about their playing days in college. Clive had been a tight end and one of the best until his knee got busted up in a freak tackle that twisted it in at an odd angle and ended his college playing days in his sophomore year.
They joked about stories that—interestingly enough—they all remembered differently. One guy, a light-skinned man with dark eyes, talked about his amazing tackle that saved the game, but no one else remembered the play. Another man, dark-skinned with a lisp, had been the quarterback and reminded everyone of some of his great throws and how he’d broken the school record. There were some arguments about that as well. Renee couldn’t help but laugh, but maybe the different versions were to be expected since those events took place over twenty-five years ago.
They weren’t always in disagreement about past events. A few memories that came up had them very animated, yelling and laughing so loud they scared the dog and made the kids holler that they should keep down the noise.
During a lull in the conversation, Sasha—currently seated on Jayson’s lap—asked Renee, “What kind of work do you do?”
“I teach high school A.P. English and literature, but I’ll be retiring in a few years.”
“How did you manage to land her?” Sasha asked Clive.
“Don’t start with me, Sasha, I already know how lucky I am,” he said, eyes crinkling in amusement as he took a sip of his beer.
Clive didn’t correct the assumption that they were a couple. Renee’s eyes lingered on him, and his eyes lingered on her. The message within let her know quite clearly that they were, in fact, a couple, and he was happy with her.
A wave of heat swept over her skin. What an odd experience. For the past year, she’d wanted to throttle him. Now she wanted to jump his bones and wished for this get-together to wrap up quickly so she could do just that.
“I’m going to get some water. Anyone want anything?” Renee stood.
They all shook their heads, so she went inside and found the cooler with iced water on the floor near the door. As she picked a bottle, Chelsea entered the kitchen.
“You’re having fun, I hope?” she asked.
“I am. That’s an interesting bunch. I’m not sure what to make of them.” Renee sipped her water.
Placing her hands on her hips, Chelsea laughed. “They’re good guys, I promise.”
“I’m kidding, they seem to be. I’m so impressed with the friendship they’ve maintained all these years—for decades! That’s impressive.”
“Yep. They stayed friends after my dad dropped out of college a couple of years in, when his knee got messed up.”
“He dropped out?” Renee asked in shock.
Chelsea nodded. “He started working construction full-time, and that’s the field he stayed in until my mom died. He loves working with his hands.”
Leaning her hip against the counter, Renee was enthralled by the new information from Clive’s daughter. She didn’t speak because she didn’t want to interrupt the flow of information.
“That’s how he met my mom. Her father ran the construction company he worked for, and she worked in the office. They started dating, but my grandpa didn’t approve. He thought my mother could do better.” Chelsea rolled her eyes.
“But love prevailed,” Renee said, her heart tightening with sympathy for Clive. She couldn’t imagine how that must have made him feel, and she realized she’d had her own reservations because he didn’t fit the mold of the type of man she’d envisioned herself being with.
Chelsea’s face brightened. “It did. My mom left the company, she and my dad got married, and Dad opened his own construction company. Mom answered the phones, did all his paperwork—everything she used to do for grandpa. Those guys out there stood by his side when he married my mom, and…when he lost her. That was a tough time for all of us.” Her voice throbbed with pain at the end.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s fine.” Chelsea played with the ribbon in her hair and took a deep breath to corral her emotions. “After she died, Dad was devastated. That’s how these get-togethers started. I know the noise bothered you, but they started because, when my mother died, my father was in a dark place. She was his everything, you know? And he became very depressed, couldn’t get out of bed. He forgot how to enjoy himself. Jayson—God bless him—suggested a few of them come over to cheer up my dad, and they started visiting regularly to get him out of his funk. That’s when we lived in the old house, and they continued the tradition even after he was okay. These barbecues and guys’ nights out keep them connected, and they help each other. They helped when Dave and Misty lost their son and when Gary, who’s not here tonight, had a cancer scare. Only six of them from the original team still live around here and come over, but Dad keeps up with some of the guys in other parts of the country, too. “
“That kind of friendship isn’t easy to come by,” Renee said softly.
“No, it’s not. Anyway, I’ve said too much.” Chelsea gave an embarrassed laugh. “I just wanted you to know how important those guys are to him. How important they are to each other.”
“I understand, Chelsea. Believe me, I understand.”
13
The guests had left an hour ago after they all watched an impressive fireworks display in the distance, courtesy of the Port of San Diego. Cleaning up took Clive, Chelsea, and Renee about forty-five minutes before they completed all tasks and had the house back in order.
Chelsea yawned exaggeratedly, covering her mouth and then lifting her arms upward into a stretch. “Guess I’ll head upstairs and join Samson and Margie.” The lateness of the evening and running around for hours had caused Margie, with little prodding, to go upstairs earlier, her eyes drooping so low they’d almost closed entirely. Samson had followed her up to her room.
“It was good talking to you tonight, Renee.”
“Nice talking to you, too,” Renee replied, appreciative of the insight she’d gl
eaned into Clive’s past.
“Don’t be a stranger.” Chelsea made eye contact with her father and sent him a silent message. “Good night, Dad.”
“Good night.” After she left, Clive added, “That’s my daughter. Real subtle.”
Renee giggled.
Clive glanced around the kitchen. “Thanks for staying behind and helping out. You’re a guest and shouldn’t have had to clean up. I owe you one.”
“Please, you don’t owe me anything. It’s only a fraction of what you’ve done for me at the house.”
“I hope you don’t feel like you owe me anything,” Clive said with a frown.
“Absolutely not.”
“Although if you want to pay me back…” he said with a leer, wiggling his thick eyebrows.
Renee placed a hand on her hip. “I said, absolutely not.”
Clive let out a throaty laugh that made her smile. She couldn’t imagine this man depressed and struggling to get out of bed.
“Care for another drink?” Clive asked.
“I could use a beer, if you have any left.”
“Sure do.” He grabbed two bottles from the refrigerator, opened both bottles, and handed one to her. “Let’s go outside.” He slipped his hand into hers.
On the deck, they stood close, leaning against the railing as they overlooked the yard. They sipped their drinks in silence. The sounds of laughter and music came from a couple of doors down, and the sound of firecrackers popped in the distance.
“Chelsea told me how difficult life was for you after your wife passed.”
He glanced at her. “You feel sorry for me now?”
“I’m sure you’re fine, but I can’t help feeling a bit sympathetic. I’ve never known that type of loss—that kind of love where losing the other person could thrust me into a depression.” What did loving someone like that feel like? What did being loved like that feel like? She’d been married three times and had never known that type of emotional attachment.
“It was hard.” He took a sip of beer and then set the bottle on the railing.
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