Table for Two

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Table for Two Page 13

by Jennifer Mckenzie


  “Bad choice of words.” Mal stopped that line of conversation. It wasn’t that she was against girl talk, but this thing with Travis wasn’t just girl talk. She didn’t know what it was. “I meant I didn’t intend for it to happen.”

  “What did happen?”

  “Well.” She swallowed and reminded herself that she’d been the one to bring it up. She’d been the one to decide to share and Grace’s questions were perfectly reasonable. “After I ran into all of you last week...”

  “With your date,” Grace added.

  “With my date,” she confirmed. “My perfectly lovely, handsome, smart date.”

  “Who you clearly didn’t find that lovely, interesting or smart,” Grace pointed out. “Or you wouldn’t have dumped him to sleep with Travis.”

  “I wouldn’t say dumped.” Dumped sounded so harsh, as though she’d actively broken his heart and left him shattered, when in reality she’d simply told Angela that they didn’t click. “We’d have to be going out for any dumping to occur. The point was, Josh was a great guy and instead of appreciating that and setting up another date with him, I had sex with my ex.”

  “Maybe Travis isn’t your ex.”

  “He’s an ex.” Mal was firm on that. She had to be.

  “Then why did you sleep with him?”

  “That’s an excellent question.” The server appeared at their table then and they paused their conversation to place their dinner orders. When he left, Mal returned her attention to Grace. “I was hoping you might help me figure that out. The why.”

  “Of course.” Grace nodded knowingly and Mal immediately felt better.

  She’d been right to share with Grace, to get the other woman’s opinion and see if together they couldn’t figure out the best way for Mal to navigate the potential minefield.

  Grace leaned forward as though to impart some extremely important information. “Now, I understand there was some accidental nudity, which might have resulted in the situation.”

  Mal tried to frown, but she could feel the corners of her lips twitching. “You’ve been spending too much time with Owen.”

  “I know.” Grace’s words were practically a sigh, all filled with newly wedded bliss. “Isn’t it great? But enough about me. Why is Travis an ex?”

  Now it was Mal’s turn to sigh, but there was no bliss in it, newly wedded or otherwise. “I’d say it’s a long story, but the truth is, it’s embarrassingly short.” And just flat-out embarrassing. Mal took a sip of her water and reminded herself that there was no shame in her story. It was the story of many breakups. Of course, that didn’t make her feel any better. She put down the water, the lone sip already sloshing away in her stomach. “He cheated on me. I left. That’s it.”

  Grace froze with her own water halfway to her mouth. She put the glass back down without sipping. “He cheated on you?”

  Her appalled tone filled Mal with the warmth of righteousness, which lasted about two seconds. “Well, we weren’t exactly together when it happened.” If she was going to talk about it, she had to tell the truth.

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, it was just after my dad’s heart attack. I was living back here and he was down there. In Aruba. Things were a struggle.” It had been hard, incredibly hard. She’d been worried about her dad and sliding into her new role with the family company. Travis was alone in Aruba handling everything on his own when she was supposed to be with him. And it all got to be too much.

  “It got to the point where I just didn’t see the point. I loved him and I know he loved me, but it wasn’t working. We were living two separate lives. So I flew down to see him, and we talked and we agreed that it was better to part before things turned ugly.”

  “Seems very mature.”

  “It does.” It hadn’t been. Mal’s attempt at a factual, clinical recitation of events only served to remind her of how painful it had been. How she’d questioned every word, every thought and even as they’d been agreeing to remain friends another part of her had been screaming to keep trying, keep fighting, that Travis and their relationship were worth it. “I gave him the bistro, had the papers drawn up and notarized and left them in my hotel room safe. I didn’t realize until afterward, so I went back to the bistro to deliver them in person. He was in his office.”

  Grace was nodding along now. She was a smart woman and had clearly seen enough Lifetime movies to know where this was going. “And he wasn’t alone?”

  “He was not. I knocked, but he didn’t hear me since he had another woman’s thighs clamped around his head.” There. Now it was out. Mal waited for the humiliation to wash over her.

  Instead, Grace laughed. “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not.” Finding Travis like that, as though their relationship had meant nothing, less than nothing since he’d already found someone else, had nearly broken her. She’d dropped the papers on a chair by the door and fled. But now, well, with the passing of time, she could see how it might seem funny to an outside observer. “Right there in the office with the door unlocked. It was almost like he wanted to get caught.”

  “Maybe he did,” Grace mused.

  Mal blinked. “No, I’m pretty sure from the shocked look on his face that he didn’t.”

  “Subconsciously he might have. Sparrow would say he was in search of his profound truth.” She smiled. “You know my mother.”

  “I do.” And Mal quite liked her. While on the surface, Sparrow Monroe and Evelyn Ford seemed to have little in common, they were both family oriented and fiercely protective of those they loved. They also always thought they were right.

  “Did you talk about it?”

  “No. Crazy as it might seem, I didn’t really feel like standing around and having a chat at that point.” She hadn’t felt like standing at all, which was why she’d left and ignored Travis when he’d followed, trying to explain. Really, what was there to explain? She’d seen it in live color. No explanation necessary.

  “I didn’t mean at the time. I imagine you were in shock. He probably was, too.”

  “Don’t go feeling sorry for him.” Mal narrowed her eyes. “I invited you here to listen to my side of the story and decide that I’m perfect and he’s the jerk.”

  “Done. So did you ever talk to the jerk about it after?”

  Mal exhaled. She’d thought calling Travis a jerk would help, but it just made her sad. “I didn’t. I asked the hotel to hold all calls, turned off my cell and changed my flight to leave the next morning. Then I left.” She shrugged. It had seemed like a good idea at the time and she still thought it was. She’d been too upset, too tender and distraught to talk then.

  “And once you were back here?” Grace’s blue eyes were sympathetic. Mal had known she would be, which was why she’d decided to confide in her. Unlike her family, who would jump to quick conclusions good and bad, Grace was unbiased. She hadn’t known Mal and Travis as a couple. “Did the jerk call you then?”

  Okay, maybe not completely unbiased.

  “He did, but I refused to take his calls.” There had been a lot of nights when she’d questioned her decision, when she’d wondered if she was being too harsh or cutting herself off from possibilities. But there were more nights when she was warmed by the knowledge of her own virtuousness. She’d been hurting that night, too, but she hadn’t grabbed the first good-looking man she’d seen and pulled him into her room for a quickie. “Finally he stopped calling.”

  “So how did he end up in your bed?”

  “If I knew the answer to that, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  The waiter interrupted again, bringing the bottle of sparkling water they’d ordered and a pair of goblets. Mal watched the fizzing water, feeling the unsettled movement mirrored in her stomach.

  “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this
when it doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it matters.” Grace reached out and patted her hand. “It mattered then and it matters now. Thank you for trusting me with it.”

  Mal hadn’t fully grasped that aspect until Grace said it. Trust. She trusted Grace. Trusted her opinion, her kindness, her ability to keep things confidential. Mal’s lungs grew tight. Sure, she trusted her family and loved them deeply. But there were certain things you just couldn’t talk about with your brothers or your parents.

  She started to thank Grace, but her throat had closed up and all she could do was flip her hand over and squeeze her dear friend’s fingers.

  Grace seemed to understand. “You can tell me anything. I’ll still love you, no matter what.”

  “Great.” Mal sniffled. “Now I’m going to start sobbing like a baby.”

  “I have tissues and a shoulder, so we’re all set.”

  Mal gave a watery laugh and squeezed Grace’s hand again, then let go to dab at her wet eyelashes with her fingertips. She’d had many close friends growing up, but over the years she’d let those friendships drift. It made her relationship with Grace all the more poignant. “Thank God Owen didn’t mess things up with you.”

  “Thank God I didn’t mess things up with him.” Grace’s face softened. “It was close.”

  “Not that close.” Mal still remembered her surprise when she discovered that her playboy brother had fallen in love with a woman who wouldn’t fall at his feet.

  “Closer than you might realize. I did go on a date at Elephants with another man,” Grace said.

  “I remember.” Mal had sent Owen off to lick his wounds and get his head on straight a few days later. Seeing as she’d sent him to Aruba to do it, she supposed she had Travis to thank for her brother’s happy ending. “And it all worked out.”

  “It did.” Grace still had that just-married glow, which made sense since her marriage could be counted in days instead of years. But Mal had a feeling Grace would still have that same glow a decade from now. She wasn’t jealous of her friend’s happiness, but she wanted that glow, too. “Can you forgive him?”

  Mal blew out a breath, wishing the answer was easy. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

  “Then why did you sleep with him?” Grace’s gaze was firm but not judgmental. “It wasn’t an accident. I know you, and you don’t do accidents.”

  “I guess I thought it might bring me some closure.” But that whole riding off into the sunset while a cheerful tune played and the credits rolled thing didn’t seem to be happening. “And now I think that was a mistake.”

  “Why?”

  Mal exhaled again. “Because it didn’t feel like an ending. It felt like a beginning.”

  * * *

  MAL WAS WORKING in her office when her cell phone rang in her purse. She blinked. Her phone didn’t usually ring in the evenings unless it was Grace or her mother, which was a truly sad statement. She knew it was unlikely to be Grace as they’d said goodbye only an hour earlier.

  The phone rang again. Mal dug it out of an interior pocket and felt her heart skip when she saw Travis’s name. She should really set his number up with its own ringtone so it wouldn’t catch her off guard. Maybe Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together.” Of course, every time she heard the ooooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, it would have the same effect. And would probably ruin her enjoyment of the song entirely.

  She ran her thumb along the touchscreen to accept the call. “Travis, I’m really not—”

  “My gram’s dead.”

  “What?” Mal shook her head and blinked hard. But he didn’t take back the words and she knew he’d never joke about something so serious. Her hand holding the phone began to shake.

  “She just...died.” His voice sounded thick, as though he’d been crying.

  Mal blinked back a sudden wash of her own tears. She couldn’t believe it. “Travis, I’m so sorry.”

  She heard him swallow. “My mom just called me and... I can’t get out there tonight. The next flight isn’t until tomorrow.”

  “What about by ferry?” It took a lot longer, but Mal knew that wouldn’t matter, not if it got Travis there sooner.

  “I won’t be able to make the last connection, so I’ll be stuck midway.” There was only the sound of his breath, harsh and rasping. “Can I see you?”

  She hesitated. She wasn’t ready to see him. She hadn’t figured out her own feelings, the lingering emotions that rose to the forefront and swamped her when she was in his presence. But he needed her. She couldn’t turn him away in his moment of need.

  “Of course.” She made her decision. She’d just suck up her own confusion. It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was supporting Travis. “I’m at the office, but I’ll leave now.”

  “I’ll come to your place. A walk in the fresh air...” His voice trailed off.

  Her heart went out to him. He sounded so lost, so helpless. She knew the feeling, remembered well how powerless she’d felt when her father had been in the hospital just over a year ago, the family waiting to hear how the surgery had gone, waiting to hear if he was going to be okay. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “Thanks, Mal.”

  She was already heading out of the office, purse slung over her shoulder, leaving papers on her desk. The mess wasn’t important. Not tonight.

  She got to her building before he did. Instead of going upstairs, she waited out front, not wanting him to be alone any longer than necessary. The evening was warm and balmy, though Mal was in no mood to appreciate it.

  The news that Mildred was gone hadn’t quite sunk in. She’d always been so full of life. Mal had just assumed she’d always be around. Or at least long enough that she’d see her once more. Tears pricked her eyes. But she’d never see Mildred’s cheerful face, eat her cookies or sit at her kitchen table over a long chat again.

  Mal brushed at the wetness rolling down her cheeks. She needed to be strong for Travis. This wasn’t her time to fall apart. She swallowed and took a few deep breaths until the sob in her chest eased. By the time Travis started up her block, she had the crying under control.

  “Mal.” He hugged her so tightly, lifting her off the ground, that she lost her breath. She hugged him back just as hard. They stayed that way for a moment, two people clinging to each other while the world spun on without them.

  His grip loosened only slightly when he set her back on her feet and he continued to hug her. Mal inhaled his scent, the night, the moment and closed her eyes. This felt right. She still wasn’t sure she wanted to admit that, but it was hard when it was staring her in the face. She wanted to be here, wanted to be the one Travis turned to when he needed someone. And she wanted him to do the same for her.

  “Let’s go inside,” she said gently, smoothing his hair back.

  “Just a minute.” He pulled her against him again. “I just need another minute.”

  Mal understood that he was gathering his own strength, steeling himself for the next step, because at a time like this even breathing could feel like too much. She stroked a hand up and down his back in a slow, soothing rhythm and felt him relax. One incremental movement at a time the tension left his body. She smoothed his hair again.

  He pulled back just enough that their eyes met, held. Mal saw the sorrow in them and the need for human connection. He was looking to her, counting on her. Her heart thumped. “Travis.”

  “Will you come home with me? Tomorrow?”

  The earlier hesitation returned. What would she be telling him, telling herself, if she agreed? And what would she be saying if she declined? She hovered on the precipice of indecision for what felt like forever, but it lasted no longer than a blink as she watched Travis’s lashes sweep down and then back up.

  And she knew that whatever came out of this next step, she
wanted to see it through to the end. Knew that she was never going to shed the chains of fear or her own inability to let go of the past and move forward unless she did. “I loved her too, Travis. I’d be honored to go with you.”

  His hard squeeze and slow shuddery exhale told her just how much he’d been counting on her answer. And the guard around her heart dropped a little further.

  * * *

  TRAVIS SLEPT AT Mal’s that night, though they didn’t have sex. He wanted to, but more than that he wanted the closeness they shared. Their bodies pressed together, hands clasping as they talked. He craved her gentle touches, the light press of her lips to his forehead, the trail of her fingers along his arm, the simple caresses that spoke of love more than straightforward sex ever could.

  He’d booked them on the first flight out, which took off just after eight in the morning. She went with him when he returned to Owen’s place to pack up a few things, never more than a few steps away from his side. He was incapable of telling her how grateful he was, how much this meant to him. But he hoped one day he’d be able to do the same for her—be there for her when she needed him most.

  He held her hand tight after they parked the car at the airport, made their way into the terminal and walked through security before boarding. The other passengers on the flight were cheerful. On their way to visit friends or family, maybe have a wilderness experience or go fishing at one of the lodges that dotted the coast near Travis’s hometown. He barely noticed them.

  As the plane lifted into the air, the loud buzz of the propellers made conversation near to impossible, so Travis just stared out the window. He usually enjoyed the scenery, the majestic show of old-growth forest and the islands that dotted the ocean when they got farther out. The proud mountains, still snowcapped even in the heart of summer. But today he didn’t see any of it. His head was filled with memories of his grandmother. And Mal.

  His grandma had loved coming to the city though she preferred the ferry, claiming that she liked to stay as close to the ground as possible. She had loved taking him with her. He could remember being a little guy, carefully boarding the ferry, his hand wrapped in his grandma’s as she pointed out things his five-year-old eyes didn’t notice. They used to visit the city at least once a summer, though the trip had been too much for her in recent years. Travis felt guilty that he’d only been back once since his return to Vancouver.

 

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