A Million Little Things--A Novel

by Susan Mallery

  He paused. “I know what I went through when I lost my dad. Everything changed. It was as if I couldn’t trust anything to stay the same. Life seemed fragile. You had to be dealing with something like that. If Chad was the least bit supportive, you would have clung to him. Don’t beat yourself up.”

  The combination of support and insight surprised her. Even though he’d been through the loss of a parent about the same time, his compassion was unexpected. Or maybe that was more Chad leftovers.

  “Thank you,” she said. “You’re right. What’s that quote? When I knew better, I did better?”

  He nodded. “Now you’re doing better.”

  She looked at him. “I am. I would say I’m doing much better.”

  He flashed her a smile. “I have no idea if you’re talking about me, but I’m going to assume you are. It makes me feel good.”

  “I am. You’re quite the find.”

  “I’m not all that.”

  He was, but she had a feeling he already knew, so why keep stating the obvious. He surprised her by moving closer and touching her cheek.

  “Besides, if anyone is the lucky one in this relationship,” he murmured, “it’s me.”

  He pressed his mouth to hers. She leaned into the kiss and enjoyed the feel of his lips against hers. His arms came around her, she wrapped hers around his neck. They were sitting at awkward angles—with their legs crossed and knees bumping. When he shifted, she relaxed against him and let him lower her to the carpeted floor.

  He bent over her and kissed her again. She parted her lips and he brushed his tongue against hers. Heat spiraled out from her belly, warming every part of her. She put her hands on his back and felt the strength of him.

  Everything about being with Steven felt right, she thought, her mind fogging over. He was kind and nice and funny and successful. There was no horrible baggage from his past. If he had any deep, dark secrets, Jen would have told her. He was a good guy and he made her tingle in all the right places. Where was the bad?

  They continued to kiss. Steven shifted so he was lying next to her on the carpet. One hand rested on her midsection, but he didn’t move it higher or lower. Because he was a really good guy, she thought, even as she found herself thinking a little bad boy wouldn’t be so terrible.

  He raised his head and looked at her. His eyes were bright with passion, his gaze intense.

  “I see this going two ways,” he said quietly. “We can get going on dinner, or we can move this somewhere more comfortable. It’s your call. Either way I’m spending time with you, and to me, that’s a win.”

  Because he wouldn’t push. While she was sure he was perfectly capable of seducing the hell out of her, he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t cajole or tease or push. He would want her to walk into his bedroom because that was what she wanted, too, not because it made him happy.

  She knew the sensible decision would be to get up and start dinner. That waiting to take things to the next level meant not getting distracted by passion. After all, they’d only been seeing each other a few weeks. She sat up and drew in a breath.

  “Dinner,” she said, immediately regretting the single word.

  He scrambled to his feet before holding out his hand to help her up. “How do you like your steak? I’m good up to medium. If you want it well-done, you might have to scrape off some burned edges.”

  Just like that, she thought as she stood. No sulking, no pushing, no making her feel bad. Where was the guilt, the whine?

  “Medium rare works for me.”

  He grinned. “That’s my best steak.”

  He started picking up their appetizers. She put her hand on his arm and stopped him.

  “Steven, wait.”

  He looked at her expectantly.

  She took his hand in hers. “About the room that was too tempting. I’d like to see it.”

  She waited two whole heartbeats as her words sank in.

  His expression didn’t change. “You sure?”

  She smiled. “Very.”

  He kissed her once, then took her hand and led her down the hall.

  * * *

  Saturday night, Pam sat with her friends on the hotel patio. The weather in Phoenix wasn’t that much different than the weather in Mischief Bay, but Pam appreciated the opportunity to get away for a couple of days. Not that her life was so taxing, she thought as she sipped her cocktail. It was more that she liked hanging out with her friends and appreciated the opportunity to step back from her life and get some perspective.

  They’d started the day with a three-mile hike followed by a late breakfast. After spending the afternoon shopping, they’d returned to the hotel for drinks and dinner. So far no one had suggested they leave their spot on the bar’s patio for the restaurant.

  “Pam, we’ve talked about everyone but you,” Eugenia said in her Texas drawl. “What’s happening on your coast?”

  Pam started to say “the usual” only to realize that in the past few weeks, things had gotten a little more complicated.

  “Jen is still upset about Jack. A friend of hers and I staged an intervention and that didn’t go well. She didn’t speak to me for nearly two weeks. That only changed last Thursday because she needed someone to stay with Jack while she went to a doctor’s appointment.”

  Pam thought about the clipped phone call she’d had with her daughter, followed by their brief exchange when Jen had dropped off Jack.

  “I don’t know what to do about her,” she admitted. “I spent three hours with that boy and he’s fine. I swear he’ll talk when he’s ready.” She paused. “But what if I’m wrong and Jen is right?”

  “Then you’ll deal with it,” Olimpia, a petite redhead in her late fifties said firmly. “You’ve raised three children. You have experience. There’s something about this new generation of mothers. They think they’re the first ones to ever raise a child.”

  Laura, a tall, full-figured woman groaned. “Don’t get me started. My daughters are sticklers for organic. They actually go through my cupboards as if expecting to find a box of cookies labeled Poisonous for Children, But Oh, So Delicious.” She shook her head. “I’m not an idiot. I know what I’m doing. But do they think that? Of course not.”

  “Jen needs to get out more,” Olimpia said. “She’s not back to work yet, is she?”

  “No.” Pam thought about their conversation. “She said she checked out day care places but didn’t find one she liked.”

  “Is it possible for one to exist that she would like?” Eugenia asked. “I don’t mean that to sound mean, but isn’t this the same woman who insisted every item of bedding be natural cotton without dyes?”

  Pam winced as she recalled Jen’s very detailed baby registry. “That would be her. I just wish I knew what to do. How to help.”

  “You’re there for her,” Laura pointed out. “All she has to do is ask.”

  That was true, Pam thought. She would be there, no matter what. “I suppose it’s something that she trusts Jack with me. Not that she has much choice. If not me, then who?”

  “Where did we go wrong with our children?” Eugenia asked. “I swear, they all need a time-out.”

  Everyone laughed. The waitress came over and asked if they wanted another round.

  “These are so delicious.” Laura held up her glass. “I’m going to speak for all of us and say yes. It’s not like we’re driving.”

  Every trip they tried a new cocktail. Sometimes it went well and was their favorite drink for their time together. Other times, it was quickly abandoned. This weekend’s suggestion had been a French 75. Pam had never heard of it before, but found she liked the blend of gin, lemon and champagne. It went down very easily, which could be both fun and dangerous.

  For a second she wondered what Miguel would think of her friends. She ha
d a feeling he would enjoy their company as much as she did. In turn, he would charm them.

  Her evening with him had been a lot of fun. After their margaritas, they’d gone to dinner at McGrath’s Pub on the boardwalk. Conversation had been easy. Maybe too easy. Pam wasn’t sure she was ready to like Miguel. What if she wanted to keep seeing him? What if she started to actually care about him? That would be far too confusing.

  She looked at each of her friends, then asked, “Do any of you date?”

  The table went silent.

  “That’s unexpected,” Eugenia admitted.

  “I don’t,” Laura said flatly. “I’m not pining for my late husband. I miss him, of course, but I have to say, I love being single. I get to do what I want, when I want. My kids and grandkids keep me busy. I have no idea where I would find the time.” She turned to Olimpia. “Next.”

  Olimpia smiled. “I date. Some. There’s no one special, if that’s what you’re asking, but I’ve been known to dine out with a man from time to time.”

  “Do you want to find someone?” Pam pressed. “Fall in love?”

  “Gracious, no. If I felt sparks, I probably wouldn’t say no, but casual relationships are plenty for me.” She smiled. “Besides even though there are plenty of age-appropriate men around me in Florida, you know what? They still want to go out with someone younger.”

  They all looked at Eugenia, who sighed.

  “I’ve been seeing someone. He’s very nice and we’ve been together about a year now.”

  Pam felt her eyes widen. “You never said anything.”

  “I know. I thought y’all would think I didn’t want to be friends anymore and I love our trips. I still want to take every one of them.”

  “We’ve never talked about this before,” Olimpia murmured. “I wonder why that is.”

  “We don’t want to be judged.” Pam spoke without thinking, then realized it was true. “No matter our age. We worry about fitting in. We’re all widows. If one of us has a man, does that change our friendship?”

  Laura frowned. “I hope not. I’d be happy for any of you if you fell in love again. It’s just not for me. Nurses and purses. That’s all men want when they get to be our age.”

  “That’s harsh,” Olimpia said gently.

  “Maybe, but I’ve seen it happen.” She turned to Pam. “What about you?”

  Pam thought about Miguel. “I accidentally went on a date.”

  They laughed. “How was it an accident?” Eugenia asked.

  Pam explained about meeting Miguel at Zoe’s barbecue. She told them who he was and about Saldivar tequila. “He’s so handsome and charming. When he called and asked me to dinner, I thought he wanted to talk about his daughter.”

  “And he didn’t?” Laura asked.

  “Not really. He came over a couple of days ago. We had dinner. It was nice.”

  “And?” Olimpia voiced the question gently.

  “I’m mostly confused. About dating. I never thought I would. I wasn’t looking. John is still such a part of my life.” She held up her hand. “Yes, I know I’m technically not married, but I don’t feel single. Given the choice, I would rather be with John than with anyone else. Only no one is offering me that.”

  Their waitress arrived with their drinks. Conversation shifted to their plans for the next day and their upcoming cruise through Northern Europe.

  Later, after more drinks and dinner, they all walked back to their rooms. Eugenia and Pam were on a different floor than the others. They walked off the elevator together and started down the hall.

  “About Miguel,” Eugenia said. “I know it feels strange. At least it did for me. Like I was cheating on Roger, or that I hadn’t loved him enough. But that feeling goes away.”

  “I’m not sure I want it to.”

  Her friend smiled at her. “I thought that, too. It will never be the same, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be wonderful. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to have someone care about you. That doesn’t mean you love John any less. Just be open to the possibilities.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready.”

  “You might not be and that’s fine. Just know that the fear is normal. You can ignore it or deal with it, but feeling it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

  “Thank you for that. I am afraid, not to mention uncomfortable. Miguel is just so larger-than-life. I’m totally out of my element.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “Maybe.” Pam was less sure. Still, she felt better than she had earlier. Nothing had to be decided tonight. If she wanted to keep seeing Miguel, that was her choice. If she walked away this second, she still had a perfectly wonderful life of her own.

  They reached Pam’s room. Eugenia hugged her.

  “Sleep well. When you’re ready to talk about sex, let me know.” Her friend grinned. “It’s kind of interesting to do it with someone else.”

  Pam’s mouth dropped open. “Sex? I would never do that!”

  Eugenia laughed. “Just you wait. If Miguel is all you claim, then wouldn’t it be fun to check him out naked?”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “A little, but I’d still say this sober.” She waved and continued down the hall.

  Pam let herself into her room. Sex with Miguel? Hardly. She was too old. No way she was going to get naked with someone else. Besides, she’d only ever been with John. That was what they did. She wasn’t going to do that with another man. It would be wrong.

  But even as she dismissed the idea, she remembered what it had been like to kiss Miguel. Still, kissing wasn’t sex and there was absolutely no way she was ever going there. Ever.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sunday morning Zoe and Steven walked over to Latte Da to get coffee. Every second of their night together had been magical. Steven was a gentle, passionate lover. They’d eaten late, and then he’d asked her to stay over. The logistics of her not having any of her stuff and having to feed Mason had sent them back to her place where they’d made love again, this time in her bed, and he’d spent the night with her.

  Chad had rarely stayed over. Once she’d found out he was married, she’d realized why he hadn’t. The apartment he’d claimed as his own had actually belonged to a friend. Later, after the divorce, their pattern had already been set, so he’d always gone home.

  She’d spent much of the previous night listening to Steven breathing and reveling in the concept of having a man in her bed for something other than sex.

  More than once he’d rolled over and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. In the morning they’d showered together, then had decided to go out for coffee. Now, as they walked into Latte Da, she admitted that even though things were moving quickly, she liked the direction—and him.

  They collected their order, then went outside to sit in the sun. It was cool, but clear, and the day promised to be beautiful.

  “Did you sleep?” he asked, passing her one of the Danishes they’d bought.

  “Not much, but that’s okay.” It had been worth it. “You don’t snore.”

  “Good to know. Was it my imagination or did Mason climb on my chest in the night and glare at me?”

  She giggled. “He’s trying to claim his territory. He’s not used to sharing the pillow.”

  Steven raised his eyebrows. “The ex didn’t sleep over?”

  “Not very often.”

  “Then he’s an idiot on several levels.”

  She smiled.

  “What are your plans for today?” he asked.

  “Nothing much. I’m going to go see my dad later. What about you? Do you—” She stopped talking when she saw a muscle twitch in Steven’s jaw. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  She replayed her last couple of sentences. �
��You don’t like my father?” They’d only met at the barbecue and she’d thought they’d gotten along fine.

  “It’s not that.” His tone said it was something.

  She looked at him and waited.

  “I spoke to my mom Friday morning, before she left for Phoenix. She mentioned that your dad had been over the previous evening.”

  Surprising news, Zoe thought, but hardly reason to be upset. “I don’t understand.”

  “I think they’re dating.”

  Not possible. Pam would have said something to her, wouldn’t she? They were friends. Or at least friendly. Of course Miguel was her father, but she was dating Steven, who was Pam’s son, and they’d talked about that. All things she would take up with Pam when she was home.

  “Why does that bother you?” she asked.

  “Because of what you said about him. You said he was a player who dated really young women and never had a real relationship after your mom.”

  Zoe didn’t remember being that specific, but maybe she had been. “He’s a really great guy. And the stuff with other women was a while ago.” She felt funny defending her father’s dating history, but couldn’t let Steven think badly of him. “I’m sure he would be—” She paused. “Okay, I have no idea how he would be as a boyfriend, and to be honest, it’s not something I want to think about.”

  “I’m not enjoying this either. We’re talking about my mom. The thing is, she hasn’t dated since Dad died and they were together from the time she was like seventeen. Miguel is totally out of her league. He’s a man of the world.” Steven groaned. “I can’t believe I just said that. I tried to talk to my mom about it and she wouldn’t listen. I’m worried. If he were some accountant who’d been married a hundred years, it would be different.”

  “Yes, he would be too old for her then.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She did and she was torn. While she appreciated that Steven was the kind of man who looked out for his mother, she wasn’t comfortable talking about her father this way. “Dad’s not a bad person. He’s actually really nice and caring. Despite the divorce, he and my mom stayed friends. We spent holidays together.”