by Jewel E. Ann
“Huh … I didn’t know that.”
“If you ask me, I’d say it’s the reason she’s single. She’s a hard worker. Loves that boy to death. However, I don’t miss the fear in her eyes. Pretty damn sure she never saw this life coming. I imagine you felt that way when you lost your wife. With my wife, I knew it was coming. I had time to prepare. Doesn’t make it hurt less. Just means you don’t spend as long in denial that you’re alone and you’re never going to see them again.”
I blow out a slow breath. “Yeah …”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Gracelyn
“Can I stay with Mr. Hans today? Tyler has a dental appointment today, and I don’t want to go, but his mom won’t let me stay at their house alone.”
I sip my coffee at the table, scrolling through my email on my phone. “Mr. Hans isn’t here. And I’m not asking our landlord to be your …” I search for something besides babysitter. Gabe hates that. “Well, I’m not asking him to keep an eye on you. I think that’s crossing a line, especially given the fact that he already went above and beyond and took you to Disney.”
And I feel terrible about the broken tile.
Gabe puts his cereal bowl in the dishwasher, a skill I showed him very quickly after he became my responsibility. I’d like to say it’s because I’m naturally an awesome parental figure, but it’s not. He’s not a toddler. I shouldn’t have to pick up after him. I have enough issues picking up after myself some days. Emily may have coddled him. I’m not a natural coddler. If I’m completely honest, I’m harder on him because he’s a boy. I’ve been with too many unskilled men. Gabe won’t be one of them, if I have anything to say about it.
“Ask Morgan’s dad,” he says.
Hmm … I’m not sure how I feel about that. It’s been five days since I sucked him off in his kitchen—not true, he didn’t get off. I just sucked him; licking and stroking was involved too.
Shit … my face feels hot just thinking about it.
Morgan has refused to hang out with Gabe, which I suspect is because of her period. I remember being her age and thinking that somehow everyone knew when I was having my period. I worried they could see the outline of my pad or smell the blood like vampires. It’s such an awkward and confusing age.
No Morgan time has meant no Nate time either—unless I count him unabashedly watching me strip each day. Perv …
Perv that I really like.
“Maybe. I need to get dressed. I’ll see if they’re home when I’m ready to leave. If so, I’ll ask. If not, just make sure you’re ready to go.”
“Fine,” he mumbles, heading upstairs.
I don’t usually wear makeup to work, but knowing I might see Nate this morning makes me want to look my best. He’s clearly seen my worst. I feel the need to remind him that I don’t always resemble a rag doll that’s been mauled by a dog.
“Ready?” I knock on Gabe’s door as I head downstairs in my rolled-up skinny jeans, white canvas shoes, and black fitted tee—makeup on and my hair still down. I’ll put it up when I get to work.
Without waiting for Gabe, I walk next door, surprised to see Nate and Morgan on the deck with the two rockers facing each other and a table in between them, playing chess.
“Who’s winning?” I ask.
“Me,” Morgan says, studying the board.
Nate glances over his shoulder at me, his smile touching every inch of my body. “Morning. Off to work?”
“In a few minutes.” I climb the steps and stand next to Nate’s chair, gazing at their chessboard.
“Does Morgan always win? I can see her being the better player.”
She giggles, taking Nate’s bishop with her queen. “Yes. I usually win.”
“She’s lying.” Nate’s hand falls to the side of the chair.
I stiffen when his fingers ghost along my calf.
“I’m not lying. You say you let me win, but I think you just don’t want to admit I’m better.”
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Nate asks.
“No. I’ve got to get going. I don’t know what you guys have planned for today, but Gabe is not wanting to go to his friend’s house because Tyler has a dental appointment. And I hate to ask Mr. Hans, so—”
“Oh! He can hang out with us today! I’m better now.” She winks at me.
Yep. She was on period lockdown.
Morgan continues, “We’re going to lunch and then a museum because it’s supposed to rain later. Right, Dad?”
“That’s right. We’d love to have Gabe join us,” Nate says without hesitation.
“Hey, Gabe!” Morgan glances past me. “You get to hang out with us today.”
I turn toward Gabe as he walks up to the deck. “Looks like you get your wish today.” I slide my handbag from my shoulder. “I’ll leave you with some money, in case you end up at a museum or out for lunch.”
“I’ve got it,” Nate says, standing.
“No. Here.” I hand Gabe thirty dollars.
“Let’s get you a to-go cup of coffee. Gabe can take over for me. You know how to play chess, buddy?”
Gabe shakes his head.
“I’ll show you. I’m an expert.” Morgan smirks as Gabe sits in Nate’s chair.
“I had coffee,” I say.
“I’m sure you did.” Nate gives me a look and jerks his head toward the door. “But it could be a two-cup day. Better play it safe.”
I glance at my watch. Since I don’t have to drop Gabe off at Tyler’s, I have a few spare minutes.
“Thanks for letting him stay with you and Morgan today.” I follow Nate to the kitchen, but he doesn’t stop in the kitchen.
He turns right to the hallway with the laundry room and half bath.
“Where are you—” As soon as I turn the corner, he grabs me, pinning me to the wall and pausing a breath away from my lips.
“Good morning,” he whispers with a wicked grin forming along his sexy mouth.
I rub my lips together. “Morning.”
After a dizzying kiss, he releases me and swats my ass. “Have a good day.”
“What about my coffee?” I follow him around the corner into the kitchen.
“I’m actually out of coffee.” He grabs an insulated, stainless steel cup from a floating shelf.
“Then what are you doing?”
He fills it with water and puts a lid on it. “It’s like you haven’t met my daughter. She will notice if you’re not carrying a drink out of the house.” He cranes his neck to look out the deck window before handing me the cup and kissing my cheek. “Don’t scalp anyone today.”
The cup.
The kiss on the cheek.
It’s all too familiar.
“What?” He narrows his eyes when I freeze, speechless for a few seconds.
I shake my head. “Um … nothing. Th-thanks for the water.” I can’t look at him because I suck at lying.
Brandon.
He used to make coffee for me before my first class my sophomore year of college. He’d put it in a travel mug, hand it to me, tell me to have a good day, and kiss my cheek.
“And thanks again for letting Gabe crash your day.” A nervous smile forces itself onto my face just before I turn and convince my legs to take me to the door without tripping over anymore old memories. “Have fun, you two. I’ll see you later.”
Gabe and Morgan mumble a goodbye. When I get in the Land Rover, my shaky hand slides the mug of water into the drink holder.
“You used to shake around me too.”
Grunting a laugh, I fiddle with the clasp to the bracelet he gave me and close my eyes for a few seconds. “Nice of you to finally show up.”
Brandon chuckles. “I’ve always been here. I just didn’t have anything to say.”
Opening my eyes, I start the engine. His voice is clear. It’s not a whisper or an echo of memories from the past. I can’t see him, but he’s here. And maybe I tell people like Mr. Hans that I know it’s just in my head, but I’m not sure it is.
/> “I had sex with a man who’s leaving in five weeks, jumped half naked from his balcony, and his daughter caught us in a very compromising position. Yet, you have nothing to say until now?” I back out of the driveway. If anyone saw my lips moving, they’d assume I’m hands-free on a phone call.
“I’d say he’s a worthy opponent. My job here is done.”
Tears fill my eyes. “Shut up. You don’t mean that. There’s nothing worthy about him. He’s just stumbling through life like me. A wounded animal. How does that make him a worthy opponent? Oh … and did I mention he’s moving?”
“You never sucked me off like that. He must be special.”
I roll my eyes. “Jeez … how did your perversion live when everything else died?”
“You have a child.”
I frown, focusing on the traffic. “He’s not mine.”
“Oh, Grace … don’t say that. Gabe needs to belong to something real and tangible. You don’t have to lie to the world and say he developed in your womb, but let him be yours. Let him belong. If you adopted a puppy, you wouldn’t say this is a dog. You’d say this is my dog. Your responsibility. Yours to love.”
I bat a few tears away from my cheeks and grip the steering wheel. “Why are you here? Why today?”
“To give you my approval. My blessing to move on. Which is ridiculous because I gave it to you before I died. You’re so stubborn, Grace.”
“I did move on. It’s not my fault Andy cheated on me and Michael left me at the altar. That was me … moving on. I can’t force anyone to love me.” I take a sip of the water Nate sent with me because arguing with my dead boyfriend makes my throat dry and scratchy.
“You could try to be more lovable.”
“Wow! That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”
Brandon laughs. Should dead people be allowed to haunt the living with laughter? He’s dead. His good times are over.
“Harsh is calling my name while another guy makes you orgasm.”
“It slipped. I apologized. That didn’t make it right for Andy to slip his dick into some other girl. Saying your name wasn’t cheating.”
“But were you thinking of me? Hmm … if I recall, I believe you were. Not gonna lie … I was fine with it at the time. If I’m being honest, Andy wasn’t the one for you. Twenty-seven-year-olds who still live at home and have their mom do their laundry should be banned from the dating world.”
I roll my eyes. He’s not entirely wrong, but Andy was trying to open a restaurant. His mom was almost as June Cleaver as my mom—only she didn’t have an apron.
“I’m not sure if you stalk him the way you stalk me, but Andy now has three restaurants. He married a politician. And they have twin boys who are both phenomenal basketball players. Maybe I saw Andy’s potential before anyone else did.”
“Yes. The potential to fuck another man’s name out of your mouth. That’s talent.”
I pull into the parking lot and shut off the engine. “I’d love to stay and chat, but one of us is still alive with a job and responsibilities.”
“Bummer. We didn’t get a chance to discuss you getting left at the altar. That was classic. I saw that coming. I’m not sure how you didn’t.”
“Go away,” I grumble, exiting the vehicle.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Nathaniel
Morgan spends the morning teaching Gabe how to play chess. Once he beats her, she declares it’s time to do something else. She might have inherited my competitive gene.
We grab burgers for lunch and ice cream for dessert, and make it to the museum before it starts to rain. After only an hour, Gabe expresses his level of boredom. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s not as obsessed with miscellaneous knowledge like Morgan, or if it’s because he’s been to all the museums in San Diego. My persuasive daughter doesn’t think twice about him wanting to leave after only an hour. Now, had I been the one suggesting we leave that early, she would have had a meltdown.
I’m losing ground with this girl. I used to walk on water. Now she rolls her eyes and gives me this look like, on my best day, I merely stomp in a muddy puddle.
“You and Gracelyn should move to Madison with me and my dad,” Morgan declares, sitting next to Gabe in the backseat while I chauffeur them home.
I glance in the rearview mirror at Gabe.
He keeps his gaze focused on his phone. “I’m not moving.”
“Why?”
My instinct is to save Gabe from the impending onslaught of Morgan questions and possibly even some begging, but my curiosity keeps me quiet.
“Because I like it here. My friends are here. My soccer team is here. I don’t want to move. My grandparents said I could move to Montana with them, but I wanted to stay here. That’s why Gracelyn moved here instead of taking me back to Ohio with her.”
“Idaho.”
I smirk at Morgan correcting him.
“Whatever. You get my point.”
“You’d make friends in Madison, just like me. We could make friends together.”
“I already have friends.”
“Yeah, but don’t you ever want to make new friends? Different friends? I’ve made lots of friends while traveling with my dad. We write letters to each other and sometimes even send pictures or postcards. It’s really fun. You could send your friends here pictures from Madison.”
“Or I could stay here.”
“Guac … you’re no fun. Besides …” She doesn’t finish, so I make another glance in the mirror. Her head is bent, her hands cupped at his ear as she whispers something.
“My aunt is not marrying your dad.”
“Shh! Could you be any louder?”
“We should talk later. Don’t you think, Morgan?”
“No, Dad. We don’t need to talk. I know what you’re going to say. You’re not marrying Gracelyn. She already told me that, but you can’t really know that. Things change. Feelings change.”
“Not for everyone,” Gabe mumbles. “My dad said Gracelyn is cursed. She will die with an apartment full of cats, which is weird because she doesn’t own a cat.”
Morgan laughs. “That’s crazy.”
I don’t laugh, but I do wonder why his dad said that. Gracelyn is a lot of things, but she’s not a cat lady. The old lady at a nursing home seducing a male nurse is a much more fitting role.
As soon as we get home, Morgan and Gabe go to Mr. Hans’s house—I’m sure to play video games. I settle on the sofa and call my parents. We try to connect every few weeks.
“When you bringing our granddaughter home?” Dad answers without a hello.
I grin. “Soon.” After eight years away, a little over five weeks more should feel like nothing. “Have you found a place for us to live?”
“Didn’t know it was my job.”
I chuckle. “It’s not, but you’re usually poking your nose into stuff, so I figured you’d have a list of possibilities. Christina is sending me a list tomorrow.” When I decided to pack up my two-year-old daughter and travel the world indefinitely, I also chose to sell our house. Not out of financial necessity, more because I knew she would never remember it. It’s the house I bought with Jenna. It’s where we lived when we created Morgan, but it was also the house where I brought home my newborn baby … without her mom.
We need a clean slate.
“I miss her face. Your camera broken?”
I shake my head. We usually video chat so he can see Morgan. He’s watched her grow all through the lens of a camera. “Morgan’s not here. She’s at the neighbor’s house. Didn’t figure you cared to see my old, graying mug.”
“Talk to Jenna’s family recently?”
I grin because my sexy as fuck neighbor just arrived home, and she’s stripping for me. “Uh … we video chatted last week with her sister Rachael. She’s getting married this October and wants Morgan to be her junior bridesmaid.”
“I bet she’ll love that. Your mom has been stockpiling so much shit for her. Stuffed animals, dolls, play dresse
s …”
Gracelyn makes it hard for me to focus on his words, especially now that I know how good she tastes, smells, and feels beneath me. I know the rhythm of her breaths as they increase from my touch. I know the pitch of her moans when she orgasms.
“You still there?” Dad asks.
I adjust myself because my brain does its own damn thing and my body responds without my control. “Yeah, what were you saying?”
“I said your mom has been stockpiling things for Morgan.”
“Tell her to not overdo it. Your granddaughter has made a lot of transitions over the last six or so months. Who knows what she’ll still like by the time we get home in August.”
“Too late. She passed the overdoing it part five years ago. I fear we’ll need a storage shed before long.”
I laugh, moving to the window so I can get a better look at Gracelyn’s dash up her stairs. Just as she sneaks out of the bushes, her gaze locks with mine. Her eyes narrow and she flips me the bird before making her dash. My usual, or according to Morgan, “special” smile for Gracelyn steals my face.
“How are you feeling about coming home? That book of yours ready to be published?”
I turn away from the window. Show’s over. “It’s getting there. I’m not sure where to end it. I’ve been adding more content about our time here since this is technically still part of our epic-eight year journey.”
“Is there much to write about San Diego? I assumed all your life lessons, reflections, and soul-searching had been achieved by now. Lord knows if I spent eight years circling the globe, I’d have all my shit worked out.”
I chuckle. “You do realize I did this for Morgan, to open her mind and shape her early on to be more aware of the world, its vastness, and its diversity. This hasn’t been the Nathaniel Hunt Soul-searching Tour.”
“Then the book you’re writing is all about Morgan?”
My father never stops making valid points, never stops reminding me that, although I have way more years of formal education than he has, he will always have more life experience and earned wisdom. Therefore, he will always make me feel like a child with something to learn from him.