by Simon, Misty
Indecision was riding her back like a nasty monkey. Sure, she’d doubted herself time and again about what she was doing, if she was raising Justin right, what to wear to dinner. But she hadn’t had this male/female indecision in a very long time. The old Claudia would have just gone for it, but she found this Claudia was more gun shy than she’d thought.
Finally, she fell asleep, only to dream of Nate in completely inappropriate places, doing decadent things. It started her morning off—right up until the point when she saw him working on the shop and could barely meet his eyes.
****
Nate whistled tunelessly as he removed a stack of mail from the odd-shaped box standing in front of his house Friday afternoon. He’d put in a hard day at Decadence, getting things blocked out and set up for the build-out Claudia wanted. He’d tried to catch her eye at the store in the morning, but she looked really busy and he hadn’t pursued it. She had a lot on her mind with Peter here, and he didn’t need her right away. He’d catch her tomorrow. He hoped she and Justin were getting along decently and the boy wasn’t giving her any problems. He’d tried talking to Justin when the kid had walked by him on his way home from school, but as soon as he’d asked what was bothering the little guy, Justin had clammed up. Nate knew he’d wheedle it out of him eventually, maybe at dinner with Claudia next week. Or Claudia would tell him. Either way, he’d told Justin that his phone was always on. He and Justin hadn’t ever talked about Peter, his biological father, but with the guy back in town and Justin’s general moodiness of late, Nate had no doubt it would explode at some point. And he’d be there for him. Just like he was for Claudia, though she, too, had been acting weird lately. Must be all the stress, he thought.
A recent gag gift from his cousin, the mailbox made him laugh every time he saw it. Today was no exception as he took a good look at it and tried to push any concerns to the back of his mind. It was perfect. No one else in his circle of friends had an oversized replica of an Xbox Game System to hold mail.
“Hey there, sonny,” a familiar masculine voice rumbled from behind him, and Nathan jumped. His next-door neighbor, Fred, erupted with his trademark laugh and continued, “I caught you off guard. Sorry about that, my boy.”
Nate turned and beheld Fred in all his glory. There really wasn’t another word for it. And smiled. No one Nate had ever met could compete with the outfits Fred managed to put together. Today it was a pair of green polyester slacks and a flamingo pink polo shirt.
“Well, it’s a fine, beautiful day, isn’t it?” Fred said, and his flash of blinding white teeth was proof positive of the wizardry of dentures.
“Yes, sir, it is,” Nate replied. “And how are you feeling today?”
“Good as gold. Good as gold,” Fred said. “Got myself a new girlfriend down at the club, and we’re stepping out tonight. Me and my Edna.”
Nate stifled a chuckle. Fred Watson didn’t look a day over eighty-five, and he led a more social life than Nate did at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. But Nate had hopes that might change. And soon. There was a girl down at the bank he’d been thinking about asking out. Yeah, he had to remember the girl down at the bank and forget his wacky notions about Claudia flirting with him when she was probably just trying to handle this Peter situation as best she could.
“So, is this one a keeper, Fred?” Nate asked. If he remembered correctly, this was Fred’s sixth girlfriend in the last eight months. Fred Watson, the aging Lothario, was an inspiration.
The dentures flashed again in a wide smile. “Well, now, son,” Fred’s voice dropped, as if he were imparting a secret. “They’re all keepers. Even if it’s only for a short time.” And then he laughed uproariously at his own wit, his many chins jiggling merrily. “By the way, boy, when are you going to get a girl for yourself?” Fred asked as he peered at Nate from under bushy white eyebrows. “Got yourself this big house and don’t have no family to share it with. Seems a shame to let that backyard of yours go to waste with just your flowers and your patio furniture.”
Since Fred brought up Nate’s lack of female companionship every time the two talked, Nate smiled again, devilishly this time, shrugged a shoulder, and gave his standard answer. “That’s why I’m here, Fred. I’m going to find myself a beautiful ski bunny or corn-fed girl and raise a whole passel of kids.”
Hands folded over his round stomach, his neighbor laughed jovially, and his belly shook for long moments. Then Fred rearranged his face into a look of mock severity, his blue eyes still twinkling with mirth. “Gotta decide between one or the other, my boy. Can’t have both, I don’t think. Though times may be different. But see that you start soon, sonny. You’re not getting any younger, you know.” With that bit of sage advice, Fred began walking up the length of his driveway.
The words, coming from someone who was old enough to be his grandfather, really got Nate in the gut. For all he knew, Fred would get married for the third time before he could even manage to walk down the aisle once.
“Have a great time on your date this evening, Fred,” Nate called as he watched the man who had been “advising” him since he was a snot-nosed kid running around with his friends on their skateboards. When this house had gone up for sale, Nate had been skeptical about living next to the old man, but it had turned out to be one of the best decisions of his life. “Keep an eye out for the ski bunnies for me.”
“I always keep an eye out for the ski bunnies,” Fred returned.
Nate saluted as Fred made his way back to his house, calling over his shoulder that he needed to get ready for his red-hot date at 4:30.
Fred was going to be right on time by Nate’s watch. And that also meant Nate had the whole evening stretched out in front of him.
Logan had a date with some girl, and Claudia had never picked up her phone when he tried to call this afternoon about Peter. His few close friends were on a slow-pitch baseball team together, and tonight was practice. He’d been asked to join but had turned them down because he’d wanted to be available if Justin needed him.
Okay, that was a little pathetic. Sure, he loved the little guy, but he didn’t need to be a doormat. This kind of thing had only happened over the last year or so, when Justin had started freaking Claudia out. It was right after they had moved out of Claudia’s mom’s house and into their own apartment with Zoe.
Fortunately, the phone chose that moment to ring. At this point he’d gladly talk to a telemarketer to get his thoughts off the path they were strolling down.
But he didn’t get there in time to answer. That just might have been divine intervention.
Because it wasn’t a telemarketer. It was his mom. “Sweetie,” she said in her harsh smoker’s voice. “Call your mama and your grandma when you get a chance. We have something we want you to do for us. You know how your grandma is, so call right away or the biddy won’t get off my back.” It sounded like she turned away from the phone; her voice got muffled and distant. “Yes, I called you an old biddy. Please don’t tell me you’re going to be ornery in your old age. Christ!” Now back to him. “Yeah, yeah, love from me and the old bat. Oops.” Then she laughed and hung up.
What a family. No wonder he’d never been in any huge hurry to invite anyone into it. Claudia and her whole crew from Zoe to May to Claudia’s parents were there by default since they’d been around forever, but inviting someone new in was always something to think long and hard about. They’d have to deal with his mom and his grandma, who he was pretty sure was Fred’s age, but, since every year her age went down a number or three, he could never be sure.
Stepping over some fallen toy soldiers and a handful of games spread out on the floor, Nate headed for the kitchen. He threw the mail on the table. The whole pile slid along the slick surface but stopped before completely falling off the table, joining others on the table. He wasn’t normally a slob, but with two jobs going on, he was busy. He really needed to clean this place up, and tonight was the perfect time. Though he knew Claudia and Justin were probably at the
batting cages, he didn’t want to intrude. Justin seemed to have some stuff on his mind lately, and maybe he would talk to Claudia about it tonight in between swings.
For his part, Nate had no plans for the evening. It was still early, and he was going to be busy again come Monday. Especially since he was probably taking Claudia and Justin out to dinner Monday evening. It would be a welcome fun thing to do after the lunch they had to attend this weekend. He still hadn’t decided whether he wanted to go or not.
Wandering over to the refrigerator, he pulled open the door and checked out what he had. He grabbed a package of filet he’d taken out of the deep freeze in the garage earlier in the week and seasoned it. He’d grill again. No big deal.
Thinking about the upcoming couple of days brought two things to the front of his mind. For one, he hoped Claudia could handle Peter. He knew she could, but he hoped she came out the other side okay. Secondly, as much as it was never a hardship to take Claudia anywhere—she’d been potty trained for years—he did hope her nervous tick would go away before their dinner.
Then again, maybe she finally needed glasses. He’d been telling her for years that holding paper at arm’s length wasn’t the norm. And if she really wanted to enjoy those romance novels she liked to read, she should break down and get glasses. Maybe that was the problem the other night when her eyelashes kept fluttering.
Because the only other explanation he’d been able to come up with over the last few days was that she was trying to flirt with him, and that made about as much sense as using a ballpeen hammer to pound in a stake on a railroad tie. Not to mention they’d been friends forever and, despite a few wet dreams at night when he was younger, he’d put her in a box labeled Not For Sex, Ever.
It was too ridiculous to even contemplate. Wasn’t it?
Chapter Four
“Come on, Justin,” Claudia called down the short hallway, hoping to be heard over his stereo. Wasn’t loud stereo noise supposed to come in the teens? Her child was smart for his age and sometimes older than she thought he should be, but he was really pushing this expected-behavior thing straight over a cliff.
“What?” the muffled reply came through the closed door near the end of the hallway.
“Come on out if you want to go to the batting cages.” She pounded on the door for good measure.
“What?” A little louder this time.
“All right,” she said to herself. “I’ve tried the whole respecting privacy business, but this is ridiculous.” Turning the knob, she tried to shove open the door but something was in the way.
“Mom!” he said in a whiny, sing-song voice.
“Justin!” Claudia sent it right back to him. “Move whatever the heck is keeping this door wedged closed, and let me in.”
“But this is my room, and you said you’d respect my privacy.”
Ooh, it sucked to have her words thrown back at her, especially when she was trying to do something nice for the little hooligan, something she didn’t even particularly like to do. “I wouldn’t have any problem respecting your privacy if you could ever hear me.”
“What?”
“Open the door!” She was trying so hard not to use the f-word right now, and her breath gurgled in the back of her throat. What a great way to spend a fun Friday night.
“Jeez, Mom, just hold on a second.”
Oh, my God! She was not going to survive his puberty—and he might not either.
After much banging and grunting and groaning, the door opened. And it was like coming across an overflowing dumpster in the middle of a skating rink.
There, standing in the middle of piles of clothes, magazines, toys, and CDs, was her son. Four-foot-nine of attitude, maleness, and angst. But under it all, he was a great kid, one who tried to cook her dinner and would rub her back when she’d had a long day. One who still to this day made Mother’s Day and Father’s Day cards for her. One who really was the apple of her eye when he wasn’t being a pain in her ass.
She propped herself against the door jamb and waited for him to stop shuffling his feet and actually look at her. She didn’t have long to wait, and she got a half-cocked smile, one that was pure Nate. It forced her a half step back as it rocked her in her shoes.
When had Justin become a small Nate and no longer a small Claudia, or even a small Peter? In the looks department, Justin and Nate couldn’t be farther from each other. Justin was the spitting image of Peter with his dark hair and dark eyes. But in attitude and mannerisms, he was a little Claudia and a lot Nate.
Was she going after the right thing with wanting Nate for herself? What if she broke the friendship and the easy relationship her son had with the one man in his life who had accepted him from day one, with the exception of his granddad on her side?
But then the half smile bloomed into a full-blown one, showing all his pearly whites and the eye tooth that was still growing in, and he was all Justin. A little con artist who could charm the money out of his grandma’s pocketbook.
“So what did you want to tell me, Mom? I’m all ears for you now.” He patted her shoulder and weaseled his way under her arm to lean against her side. “Are you still going to take me to the batting cages? Because that would be so cool. You would be the best mom ever. Not that you aren’t right now the best mom ever, but then you’d be the bestest, bestest mom ever, and I could brag to all the guys about what a great mom I have.” He even had the audacity to wink at her.
“You’re laying it on a little thick, don’t you think, kid?”
“Aw, shucks. Of course not. You know I mean every word of it.”
“Aw, shucks? Now I know you’re laying it on thick, like crap in a backed-up sewage system.”
“Mo-om!”
It was a true pleasure to gross him out. “Anyway, yes, I am taking you to the batting cages if you’d get your stuff together and get some shoes on.”
He dashed around his room faster than she’d seen him move in a while. A moment later he was in the hallway with the smile, a comic book, and some dubious shoes on his feet.
“I thought I threw those sneakers away last week.”
“I saw them in the trash and figured they’d been dumped by accident, so I took them back out. They only kind of smell like bananas now.”
They were high-top Converse, had about ten holes in the fabric of each shoe, and drawings all over the canvas. There was a reason they had been in the trash, and it wasn’t an accident. But she’d learned to pick her battles, and right now the battle she wanted to have was the one about the music, not his footwear choice.
He seemed to listen as she talked about the noise level of the music and how it was disruptive to the shop downstairs as well as making it hard for her to hear him and vice versa. He seemed to take it all in, nodding at the appropriate places, and then proceeded to crank up the stereo in the car and sing at the top of his lungs.
Maybe she would take him on about the shoes.
****
Sixty minutes and about three hundred balls later, Claudia wasn’t capable of taking on anyone about anything. She’d gladly sleep on top of those shoes if the choice were given to her.
“Come on, Mom. No time for sitting down and resting. You’re not old. You should have more energy than this.” He swung his bat a couple of times, warming up inside the cage, and then readjusted his helmet.
“You didn’t say I had to hit balls, too.” She sat behind the fence, willing to risk permanent chain linking on her cheek if she could just rest her eyes for a single minute.
She was pathetic. An hour of swinging a bat shouldn’t take this much out of her. But she hadn’t exercised in forever, and her demon spawn of a child had set her up with fast pitch for about three rounds before she realized other people had slower speeds, where the ball wasn’t aimed and determined to take out a leg or arm or other valuable and necessary body part.
“Come on, this is fun!”
The chink of the bat striking the ball made her lift her head a fraction. “
Good hit.” Then her chin dropped to her chest again, and she admitted defeat. Sure, being the bestest, bestest mom was something to strive for, but this was ludicrous, and she was now sweaty beyond belief. She’d kill for a shower right before the small nap. She could do wonders with the water fountain on the other side of the cages, and the hard, standard-issue metal bench was looking downright cozy.
“Hey, batter, batter, swing, batter, batter!”
The voice was so familiar, and it sent tingles right down the center of her limp spine.
****
Nate hadn’t had anything else to do tonight. After making his steak on the grill and trying to get interested in a DVD, he gave up and left the house. He’d felt lonely knowing even Fred was out on a Friday night. He’d thought about calling up his brother or a buddy, but spending time with his favorite guy and friend trumped any other plans he could have come up with.
So here he was, figuring Justin had had enough time to talk to his mom if he’d needed to and hoping he wasn’t busting in on the poor little guy’s parade.
Claudia jumped from her previous slumped position to sitting rigid in a hurry. He walked up behind her and automatically started kneading her shoulders. “Long day?”
“Mmmm. You have no idea.” She purred and stretched.
He dropped his hands like she was a wire and they’d forgotten to turn off the electricity before stripping it bare.
“Is that all I get?” She looked up at him through lowered lashes, and he worried she might start in with the eyelash thing again.
“Yeah, well, I was just over this way and saw your car, so I thought I’d stop in and see how you were doing.” He smiled and took a seat next to her. She was sweaty and dirty and looked like the Claudia he used to chase around the playground in elementary school. This was the more comfortable Claudia. The one he could deal with on a daily basis. He’d been crazy to think she had been flirting with him the other night.