Change of Hart

by M. E. Carter

  “You brought a date when you took my son swimming?”

  “She wasn’t a date,” I defended. “She’s a woman who lives in my building.”

  The look on her face indicated that I may have just made things worse. “So you brought a booty call when you took my son swimming?”

  “Uh, no,” I said. “I ran into a woman who lives in my building when we got there. I ignored her except for the two times she approached us.”

  “Uh huh,” she said. “Hey Jax, since you didn’t change yet, go grab your clothes out of the bag and put them on, ok? I want you dressed for dinner.”

  “Ok,” he agreed and took off again, leaving me alone with his mother. Normally I would’ve liked being left alone with her. But not right now.

  “Listen, Addison, he made it sound a lot worse than it was,” I started.

  “Really,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “My son is making gestures about her chest. You call that innocent?”

  “Well, I can’t exactly help it that she had her,” I paused, “assets on display. We were at the pool, ya know.”

  She threw her hands up in the air. “I can’t believe you, Jason! I trusted you to take care of my son! Not to give him an introduction to the birds and the bees!”

  “Addison, that’s not what happened! Listen, can we talk about this outside?” I gestured toward the door. “That little tornado could walk in any moment and I wanna explain myself. I haven’t done anything wrong here.”

  She paused for a minute, lips pursed. “Fine,” she said. “But only because I’m curious about the company you keep before letting you take him somewhere again.”

  She walked out the door in front of me and I closed it behind us. That’s as far as we got before she really started laying into me.

  “I can’t believe you let my son hang out with one of your . . . floozies!” she practically yelled.

  “Floozy?” I asked. “What generation do you live in?”

  She pointed her finger right into my chest. “Don’t change the subject, Jason. Why would you do that?”

  “Listen,” I said, hands up defensively. “She’s a sad, pathetic woman who lives in my building. She’s a sad, pathetic, married woman.”

  “That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  “No, but it should give you an idea of what I couldn’t say in front of Jaxon. She’s a whore, Addison.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “No, not my whore. Just in general. Every time her husband goes out of town, which is often, all the men in the building know it. She hits on all of them. Me included.” I took a step toward her. “She happened to be at the pool today and approached us. I politely turned her down and tried to avoid her. But she’s really stubborn and doesn’t give up easily.”

  “So you accepted her invitation for anything you want,” she said matter-of-factly.

  I scoffed. “Hardly. I have never gone there and never will. She’s not the first gold digger to sniff in my direction. And she won’t be the last. But I’m smarter than that. I’ve seen the damage they do once they chew you up and spit you back out.”

  “You let her rub sunscreen all over you,” she said quietly, looking me square in the eye.

  “No, I prevented her from rubbing anything on me,” I said. “I made her use the spray. And I only let her do it because protective gear on the field and sunburns don’t mix.”

  Addison was looking at the ground, a little on the defeated side when a thought occurred to me.

  “Addison,” I said, bending over to look her in the eye. “Are you . . . jealous?”

  Her head whipped up. “What? No way! I’m just worried about my son.”

  I barked a laugh. “I don’t think so. You’re jealous!”

  “I am not!” Her arms dangled at her side in fists. She was getting feisty and starting to flush a little. It was a side of her I didn’t know she had.

  “Yes you are,” I said with a smile. “So forget all this crap. Go out with me.”

  “I am not going out with you!” she said incredulously.

  “Why not? I know you think I’m hot.” If I was gonna push her buttons, I might as well go all the way.

  “I do not think you’re hot, Jason Hart!”

  “There ya go, lying again. I know you think I’m hot because I think you’re hot right back.”

  “You . . . ,” she stammered, her feistiness deflating. “You think I’m hot?” she asked.

  I smiled at her. “Not only do I think you’re hot, I think you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And I like talking to you and hanging out with you.”

  “Oh,” she said, looking stunned.

  “I know it’s only been six months, and I know you’re still grieving over losing your husband . . .”

  “I stopped grieving over that bastard a month before he died,” she interrupted. As soon as she said it, her eyes went wide like she had just mistakenly revealed some big secret.

  I paused and cocked my head, trying to figure out what she was trying to say. “I’m sorry . . . what?”

  “No . . . nothing,” she said nervously. “Just forget I even said it.”

  “Um . . . that’s not gonna happen,” I said slowly. “The only way I know of that you can grieve someone before they die is if . . . you know they’re going to die.”

  She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Ohmygod, Jason, you need to stop watching so many cop dramas. I didn’t kill Austin.”

  “Then can you explain what you mean, please? Because that was weird.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t like talking about it because it’s personal.”

  “Yeah, well you already started, so you might as well finish the story,” I said.

  She looked down and paused. It took her a few seconds to think about her words, but I gave her time. I felt like what she was about to tell me was important. “About a year before Austin died, we got a bill in the mail from some credit card company. I knew we didn’t have a card with this company so I started doing some digging. I was determined to figure out if someone had stolen our identity or what was going on. Instead, I found out that Austin had opened the account. So I started looking more closely at the charges. Hotels, florists, jewelry stores . . .”

  “He was cheating on you,” I interrupted.

  She shrugged. “When I confronted him, he swore he would end it. That it had been a mistake and he loved me. And I stupidly believed him.”

  “He didn’t stop the affair?” I asked, already starting to feel angry that her husband could just toss her aside for another woman.

  “Of course not. She had just graduated from college when he met her at work,” she said, sitting down on the steps. “She was young and beautiful. I wasn’t old. I’m only 31. But I was a mom with a mom’s body. And I did mom things like take care of his son. For two years he had been seeing her. Two years.” Her elbows were on her knees, her hands clasped in front of her. I sat down next to her. “When I confronted him the second time, he told me he wasn’t going to stop seeing her. Said he had fallen in love with her. That she was his best friend.”

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  “That’s the thing,” she said, still staring at her fingers. “I didn’t know what to do. I could take Jaxon and leave him, but I hadn’t worked in six years. Technology changes faster than that. I didn’t have any real marketable skills. How would I take care of us? And then I had to take Jaxon into consideration. Do I leave and uproot his whole word? Put him in daycare every day? Only let him see his dad, whom he worshipped, every other weekend? I was stuck in an impossible situation.”

  I looked out to the road in front of us. “And then he died.”

  She looked over at me. “You know he was headed to work from marriage counseling when he was killed? He had left a little early to get to some big meeting, supposedly. Once he left, the counselor had told me that I really needed to sit down and weigh my options. That there was no indication he w
as going to divorce me because he was getting the best of both worlds.” She snickered sadly. “Before I could even start making a list of pros and cons, fate stepped in and made the decision for me.”

  “Wow,” I said, not sure what else to say. “I’m really sorry he put you through all that. He sounds like a real jerk.”

  She smirked. “I didn’t think so when I married him. Turns out I wasn’t the best judge of character.”

  I cleared my throat. “You’re not a bad judge of character. He just made some really douche moves.”

  “I agree.”

  “But Addison, I’m not him,” I said, turning my whole body to face her. “I have never, ever cheated on a girlfriend and I certainly wouldn’t start now.”

  “Jason,” she said softly, “I’m not turning you down because I think you would cheat on me.”

  “You’re not?” I asked, confused.

  “No, Jason, I know you would eventually cheat on me. That Danielle woman is a good representation of your life when it comes to women,” she said, waving her hands around as she talked. “Eventually some young, glamourous, successful woman would come along and we’d be forgotten.”

  I started to speak, but she put her hand on my forearm, stopping me.

  “Let’s say you and I were to try this,” she said. “When you date a mother, you date the whole family, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Fast forward to when it didn’t work out. You’d stop coming around as much. You wouldn’t call as often. Not only would I be heartbroken, but Jaxon would be, too.” She sat back and looked at me. “I’ve watched my little boy lose one hero. I’m not willing to watch it happen again. Not even for a really hot guy.”

  She stood up to walk inside.

  “Hey, Addison,” I said, looking up at her, “If I had met you first, would you have gone out with me? And maybe left Jaxon out of it until you trusted me more?”

  She smiled. “Probably. But the thing is, you didn’t meet me first. And him being able to count on a hero is more important than me being able to date.”

  With that, she turned around and walked in the house, gently closing the door behind her.

  I sat on the steps thinking for a good ten minutes after she went inside, trying to come up with a way to make it all work. But I couldn’t. So as much as I didn’t want to, I got in my car and went home.

  I didn’t sleep worth a shit that night, which wasn’t good, considering I had a game to play the next day. My mind kept going over the conversation Addison and I had had. I wasn’t just pissed off at how Austin had treated her. I was also pissed off that he had wounded her so deeply, she was too scared to put herself out there again. It wasn’t fair to any of us . . . me, her or Jaxon.

  At five-thirty I jumped in the car and headed to the weight room. Since we had a game, Deuce wasn’t meeting me. But I couldn’t sleep anyway, so I might as well find a few things to do on the machines by myself. Whatever it took to work off this negative energy I couldn’t get rid of.

  “Incoming call from Mom,” my hands-free set said through the speakers.

  I pressed the button on the steering wheel to answer. “Hey, Ma! When did you get back? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

  My mom and her new husband, Rick, had been on a month-long cruise of the Mediterranean and a few other places.

  “Hi, honey! We got back last night. This jet lag is killing me. My body feels like I should be getting ready for lunch. I figured if anyone was up this early and would be willing to chat with me, it would be you.”

  “Ah, the dreaded jet lag. It’s the curse of traveling to the other side of the globe for an extended vacation,” I chided. “Did you guys have fun?”

  “Oh, it was wonderful!” she said. “The country, well, I guess countries, we went to were just beautiful. And the food is just amazing. You really need to go there on your honeymoon.”

  “Still not getting married, ma.”

  “Oh, I know,” she sighed. “But someday it’ll happen. So just keep it in mind.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said sarcastically. “Like I have kept in mind that beautiful venue you found at Rick’s Christmas party a few months ago. And the perfect non-denominational church you tried out at Easter. Oh . . . and that great DJ from Kimmie Sunandrum’s wedding last year. Yes . . . I remember it all.”

  “I’m so glad to know you’re actually listening to me when I talk these days,” she ribbed. “You were such a little twerp in high school.”

  “I know, Ma,” I laughed. “Speaking of high school, guess who I’ve been spending some time with?”

  “Who?”

  “Lindsay Miller.”

  “Lindsay, who?”

  “Miller. But you might remember her as Lindsay Nabours.”

  “Oh! Little Lindsay Nabours?” she asked excitedly. “How is she? Is she still single? I always wanted you to date that girl!”

  “Gross. That would be like dating my sister.” She scoffed. “Besides, she’s married and has a five-year-old daughter.”

  “She does? Oh, that’s wonderful! When did you see her?”

  “I’ve seen her a couple times, actually,” I told her. “She hasn’t changed a bit. Still her same sarcastic, witty self. And her daughter is exactly the same. It’s hilarious.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  I paused for a second. I had always been close to my mom, but I was nervous about broaching the next topic.

  “Hey Ma, can I ask you a question about when dad died?”

  She paused. “Well, that’s kind of unexpected. But sure, sweetie. You can ask me anything about him.”

  “Maybe it’s less about him and more about you.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Is everything ok?”

  “Yeah . . . I’m just wondering about some things.” I ran my hand over the top of my head, a little nervous about starting the conversation. “How come you didn’t date much after dad died?”

  “Well, there are a couple reasons,” she started. “The big one is I just didn’t find anyone all that interesting until Rick came along. I went on a date here or there, but that was about it.”

  “Were you ever worried about, ya know, me getting too attached to someone or anything like that?”

  “Um, I think it may have crossed my mind,” she said. “But honestly, I don’t think I was interested enough in anyone to actually worry about it. Can I ask where these questions are coming from?”

  “Ummmmm,” I tried dragging out my answer until I could come up with something good. She wasn’t having it.

  “Don’t ‘ummmmm’ me, Jason Hart,” she reprimanded. “What’s up?”

  I sighed. “I think I met someone.”

  “Ok,” she said. “I’m remaining calm because I think there may be more to this story and I don’t wanna get my hopes up for grandbabies.”

  I snickered. “Her husband died in a car accident about six months ago.”

  “Oh, Jay,” she breathed.

  “I know, but there are some seriously different circumstances than when dad died. At least I hope they are,” I muttered.

  “Ok.”

  “And she has a seven-year-old son.”

  “Ah. Now I’m starting to see. And she’s concerned about her son getting attached to you.”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that, but basically, yeah.”

  “Well, let me ask you a question,” she said. “How did you feel when I went out on dates?”

  I had to think about the answer. I really wasn’t sure. But as I thought, I realized it never really fazed me at all. I didn’t want anyone to replace my dad. But I never really thought too much about it when my mom went out. Even when I was old enough to realize what dates actually entail.

  “I think,” she continued, “she probably likes you a lot more than she expected. And she’s probably scared of getting hurt.”

  “What does that have to do with Jaxon?”

  “Oh, you know his name,” she said. I just smiled. I didn’t h
ave enough time to get into the rest of the story. “Sounds like you’re leaving some things out. But we’ll talk about that later. Anyway, as a mother, there is nothing you worry about more than your child. Nothing. Not your job, not your health, not your own love life. Do you already know this little boy pretty well?”

  “Yeah, I do,” I admitted.

  “Then it sounds like her concern is not whether or not she’s interested in you. It’s whether or not you’re going to stay interested in him if it doesn’t work out with her.”

  I took a deep breath. “Ma, have I ever told you what a genius you are?”

  She laughed. “Never. I think you should say it again.”

  “You’re a genius!” I said with a smile. “Thanks for the chat, Mom, but I’m almost at the gym and I have one more phone call to make.”

  “Ok. I’ll go wake Rick up and have him take me to breakfast. Jet lag doesn’t seem to affect him at all. Lucky bastard.” I chuckled. “Do you have a game tonight, honey? We’ve been gone for so long, I can’t remember your schedule.”

  “Yeah. Kickoff is at seven-thirty. Do you want tickets? I can leave my regular seats at will call.”

  “Oh no,” she said. “Not this time. By seven tonight, I’ll feel like I should have been asleep for several hours.”

  “Yeah, maybe you should get over the jet lag first,” I agreed. “Well, enjoy your breakfast. Make him take you somewhere nice.”

  “I will. Oh! One more thing,” she said. “This girl you’ve met?”

  “Addison, yeah.”

  “She’s not one of those football groupies, is she?”

  I laughed. “Mom, I don’t think Addison could tell the different between a tackle and a high school wrestling match.”

  “Good,” she said. “I like her already!”

  “Me too. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Ok sweetie. Have a nice workout and good luck tonight. I love you.”

  “Love you, too, ma.” I hung up and immediately pressed the hands-free button on my steering wheel again.

  “Jason’s phone,” it said.

  “Call Adam.”

  “Calling Adam.”