Notes on His Pillow

by Diana Currie

  “I’ll give her the message. Yes, goodbye,” Adam replies to the caller.

  I’m curious to know who the caller was, hoping like hell it wasn’t Mr. Thatcher. The last thing I need is for him to see just how much Adam’s been helping me around here. He wouldn’t be angry with me, but I wouldn’t want him to wonder if Adam’s generosity came from seeing me struggle with the workload. Rebecca’s father has been great about letting me make my own schedule for the most part and having the kids around a lot of the time.

  John and his friends thank me again for the recommendation and shuffle out the front door promising to be quiet when they come home “drunk and happy” as Larry puts it.

  “So who was on the phone?” I ask Adam once the front door closes behind them.

  “Someone named Brett Tyson. He wanted to discuss plans for next weekend with you. He said you have his number,” he explains, curiosity evident in his expression.

  Damn that Brett. He must have loved getting Adam on the phone. Why couldn’t he have just left a message on my cell phone like a normal person? I don’t even know what he’s referring to about next weekend. He was probably trying to see if he could get a rise out of Adam.

  “Thanks,” I reply smiling shyly. “I’ll call him tomorrow.”

  Adam returns my smile and then excuses himself to his room. I hurry myself to finish cleaning up the kitchen before the kids fall asleep but my efforts are futile. The second I enter the living room to tell them to pack up their toys I see that both are passed out on the couch. They look really cute sharing a throw blanket, resting their heads on the armrests. I don’t have the heart to wake them just yet. I’m caught staring at my beautiful babies when Adam appears out of nowhere.

  “Fast asleep,” he murmurs quietly, a smile playing at the corners of his perfect mouth.

  “They’ll be so cranky when I wake them up,” I reply sighing.

  I make a move towards the couch and Adam holds up his hand gently to stop me. “Let them sleep a while,” he coaxes. “I was going to start a fire and have a glass of wine. Would you like to join me?”

  I can think of a dozen reasons why I should turn him down but before I can vocalize a single one I find myself nodding in agreement. Adam looks relieved as he places a bottle of red wine on the coffee table.

  “Do you have a corkscrew?” he asks.

  “Yeah I think so. Where’d you get the wine?”

  “A gift from Mr. Harper,” he says shrugging before crossing the room to the fireplace and kneeling at the hearth to place some fresh logs inside. I retreat to the kitchen in order to find something to open the bottle. Mr. Thatcher never offers alcohol to the guests but it isn’t against the rules to bring it in themselves. I find a silver corkscrew in one of the junk drawers and search around a little for some glasses before returning to the living room. I try to ignore the nagging voice in my head that’s demanding to know why I agreed to drinks with Adam. Because he asked me to and I can’t say no to those magnificent green eyes I answer my own thoughts. Besides, it’s not like I’d do anything stupid right in front of my children. Right? My subconscious has no answer to that question.

  Adam’s stoking the small fire when I return, trying to coax the flames to grow bigger. We sit down in the two matching wingback chairs that face the fireplace and I hand the corkscrew to him. I’ve never opened a bottle of wine in my life and couldn’t begin to imagine how that contraption works. He, of course, expertly attaches it to the cork and the telltale popping sound follows seconds later. He smiles at me warmly as he pours the liquid into our glasses.

  “I can handle a little more than that, Champ,” I tease when he stops pouring the wine into my glass after about a third the way full.

  He chuckles in response. “I didn’t want to presume. I know you need to drive your kids home later.”

  “Well, I’m only going to have the one glass. And we live just two blocks away.”

  “That’s right. I’m surprised you don’t just walk here. Especially considering that decrepit machine you call a car,” he replies winking.

  I laugh at his naiveté. “Yeah… you try getting a five year old and a three year old to walk two blocks after dark. It would probably take an hour to get from here to our house. Besides, I need the car since I usually take them to daycare on my way in.”

  Adam nods his head pensively. “Can I ask you something, Amanda?”

  “Of course,” I reply taking a sip of wine from my glass. It’s really good; not too bitter.

  “What’s it like being a mom; to look at them and see a piece of yourself?”

  I look over at my sleeping children and smile. “It’s a hard, never ending challenge, but I love being a mom. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

  “Your face lights up when you’re interacting with them. It’s lovely,” he says softly.

  I don’t know how to reply to that. His praise makes my skin tingle and I try to ignore his comment about my lovely face. I’ll attempt to deconstruct his words later tonight when I’m alone. Adam seems oddly curious about my family and I wonder why he’s asking about motherhood. “I used to think I had them too young,” I say. “We didn’t exactly plan to have Tyler as soon as we did. I didn’t really plan for any of this. After high school my life sort of snowballed; one big life altering event right after another. Graduation. Marriage. House. One baby. Two babies. Separation. Now divorce.”

  Adam’s lips curl up at the sides as he ponders what I said. I feel awkward and exposed as the silence envelops me; worried about what he must think of my life. It shouldn’t matter what he thinks about my situation or the mistakes I’ve made, but it does. Just as how I really shouldn’t care what anyone in this small town thinks but still can’t ignore their criticism.

  Finally, Adam’s eyes drop to his glass where he swirls the red liquid and then takes a long sip. “Medical school was very demanding; my days and nights spent studying and going to classes. I didn’t have much time to devote to relationships or anything else so the women I dated weren’t usually looking for a serious commitment. I focused my energy solely on my professional future, never stopping to think of what I wanted beyond my career. Now I’m 28, almost 29 and just beginning to figure it out.”

  Adam looks over at me and I smile weakly, hoping he’ll elaborate and bare his soul to me a little more. “My personal life was kind of a mess when I left Chicago,” he admits. “There was this woman… I never wanted to leave the city but after a while I realized I needed a fresh start. I’ll just say it was a bad breakup.”

  “So now you’re on the rebound?” I say trying to lighten the mood a little.

  He shakes his head; his expression still serious and morose. “No, not rebounding. She and I both knew it was over long before I left town, but there were complications. My father’s job offer just gave me a reason to finally walk away.”

  “That sounds like me and Tommy,” I say. “It took me a long time to get up enough courage to ask for a divorce.”

  “Do you ever regret your decision?” he asks staring at me attentively.

  “Yes, but only when I think about the kids. For a while I’d decided to stay with Tommy even though I wasn’t happy just so it wouldn’t hurt Tyler and Gabby.”

  “What made you eventually change your mind? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “I realized that as they grew we wouldn’t be able to fool them into thinking we were happy. And by staying in Swainsboro at least they would still have their father close, even if he weren’t in the same house. In the end I just knew I couldn’t live a lie,” I reply shrugging.

  “Yes, I understand that feeling,” he agrees and I wonder what kind of lie he was living in Chicago. “Moving across the country gave me closure for that time in my life, and now I’m free to go after the kind of relationship I really want,” he adds.

  I swallow thickly as his intense eyes bore into mine. “And what do you want?” I hear myself whispering.

  “A woman with a kind heart who�
��s selfless and caring; someone responsible and mature who wants a committed relationship.”

  “Tommy has all those qualities and I still fell out of love with him.”

  Adam glances down at his glass thinking about what I said. ““Why do you think that was?” he asks in a small voice.

  I smile sadly, remembering some of the good times Tommy and I’ve had over the years. “He was my first love; the first boy to ever show interest in me. He was predictable and a safe choice. But he never got my heart racing, you know? Never curled my toes.”

  “You’re saying your ex husband’s the only man you ever dated, and he never… did it for ya?”

  I snort a laugh at his choice of words. “Yeah, not really. I don’t know,” I reply.

  Adam whistles long and slowly, expressing his surprise. “So what about this Brett Tyson person, does he curl your toes?”

  “What? Brett?” I gasp my voice coming out all wrong.

  “Yeah, the guy who called earlier,” Adam responds as I feel my face turning red. “Are you seeing him?”

  “Absolutely not,” I say emphatically. “I’ve known Brett my whole life. We’re just friends, like family really. What made you think that?”

  Adam clears his throat nervously and briefly glances away from my eyes. “When he called earlier I’d swear he was trying to give me the impression he was your boyfriend.”

  “Oh, well, that’s just not true. We had a little fling shortly after I separated from Tommy, but it was a mistake.”

  As I say fling Adam makes a face that clearly shows he doesn’t like the idea of my being with Brett in that capacity. I don’t understand his reaction at all, especially since he doesn’t know anything about Brett.

  “What?” I ask warily.

  “I’m sorry,” he says sensing my uneasiness. “I’ve forgotten my manners. It’s none of my business.”

  “No,” I say flippantly trying to make the situation less awkward. “I don’t mind your asking. Rebecca’s the only person who knows about what happened with Brett. It was a tough time for me obviously. I’ve always been close friends with Brett and it felt right at the time. But it meant nothing.”

  “I’m not so sure it meant nothing to him,” Adam muses.

  “Maybe not,” I admit. “But we really are just friends.”

  Adam smiles at me and then tosses back the last of the wine in his glass. Tyler flops around on the sofa trying to get comfortable and it makes both Adam and I turn our heads towards the sound.

  “I should probably get them home,” I say. What I’d really like is to stay talking to Adam a while longer. He’s told me a little bit more about himself but also left me with more questions than answers.

  “Alright then. Can I help you in any way?” Adam replies reluctantly. He doesn’t seem to want our conversation to end either. Maybe he just feels bad about questioning me about Brett.

  “Could you do me a huge favor and carry Gabby to the car? She’s getting too heavy for me to lift,” I explain. He smiles and nods; always eager to help.

  Adam picks up Gabby with ease and follows me outside to the car. As I stuff the kids' backpacks onto the floor by Tyler's feet it catches my attention that Adam is having no difficulty with the five point harness on Gabby's car seat. The mechanics of those things are usually hard to figure out for first timers. It irks me to learn about another thing that comes naturally to Adam. As if we weren’t worlds apart already.

  The transfer to the car hasn't woken Gabby, and Tyler is sleepy but not complaining about being moved. I walk around to the driver side just as Adam is softly closing Gabby's door. He's fidgeting in a way that makes me think he wants to say something. Holding my keys in one hand I open the driver's door and pause before getting in, steeling myself before making direct contact with those mesmerizing green orbs.

  "Thank you for keeping me company this evening," he says.

  "It was my pleasure, I like getting to know you better," I reply lamely.

  He smiles and his expression relaxes; he's seemingly reassured by my words. I can't imagine Adam's ever encountered a woman who didn't want to spend an evening with him. He's probably well aware that women gravitate uncontrollably towards him. I idly wonder just how transparent my own affection for him must be. The very idea that he can sense my feelings for him terrifies me.

  "You have no idea how much I need this, your friendship I mean," he says looking intently into my eyes. I flush instantly. "As I've said before I sort of dreaded moving here, but you make it easier. Now I'm actually looking forward to starting over here with a clean slate."

  "That's great, Adam. I know how it feels to wish for the opportunity to start over. I'm glad you're getting your chance," I reply sincerely. I pray my face doesn't reveal the sadness I feel as I'm reminded that a fresh start is not in the cards for my own life.

  "Will you be alright?" he asks. I assume he's referring to the glass of wine I consumed but something tells me his concern runs deeper than the minute long car ride ahead of me.

  "Yes, thank you again for helping with the kids tonight. I'll see you tomorrow, Adam."

  Hastily I duck into the car before he has a chance to prolong the awkward goodbye. My chest is constricting with anxiety over leaving him for the evening. How pitiful. I start the engine and he steps back to give me room to back out of the parking space. I give him a final wave before driving away.

  I need to keep resisting my growing feelings as best I can for my own sanity and the sake of my children. I've been repeating this over and over in my brain for days but it doesn't seem to be doing any good. Regardless of how thankful Adam is to have met me I know that for him our relationship is purely about finding a friendly companion in a strange town. Adam is so far out of my league that I'm angry with myself for even entertaining the fantasy of being with him in any substantial way.

  If Rebecca were here she'd tell me to stop getting down on myself. I would tell her that I can't help it because I know how the world works. Handsome intelligent doctors don't go for single mothers with low paying jobs and old junker automobiles. What would a man like Adam ever want with a woman with my heavy baggage? Didn't he just finish saying that Swainsboro was his fresh start? What kind of do-over would he have if he started dating Tommy Miller's wife immediately after breezing into town? Even after our divorce is finalized, it's a small town inevitability that I will continue to be "Tommy Miller's wife" for a long time to come.

  As I lay in bed that night thinking over the events of the day I try to sort through my feelings. Every time Adam and I talk my infatuation grows in leaps and bounds. I can't help myself from wanting to learn more about him and trying to figure him out. My mind is raking through the possibilities of what Adam could have meant by a "bad breakup" with the girlfriend in Chicago. Does that mean he's not ready for a new relationship? He told me tonight in a roundabout way that he is ready to date. No, not date, he made it seem like he's actively searching for something serious. It shouldn’t matter to me whether or not Adam is ready for a new relationship because I’m not. I promised myself I would take it slow whenever I finally found a man I was interested in, for my own sanity as well as the kids’. And Tommy’s too. God, it would really hurt Tommy to see me with someone else before the ink even dried on our divorce papers.

  Adam has only expressed interest in becoming my friend so my marital status is irrelevant. Has he been gravitating towards me because he thinks I'm safe territory? A good prospect for a new friend because he'd never be attracted to me? These kinds of thoughts are not healthy. I really wasn’t expecting this to happen so soon. In Swainsboro the idea of meeting someone new seemed so unlikely.

  In a few months time Adam will be out of my daily life and I'll only have to see him when the kids go for doctor visits. That realization not only fails to comfort me, but instead has the opposite effect. I can't stand the thought of not seeing Adam every morning, sharing breakfast with him, talking about anything and everything. And he wants us to be friends. He�
��s new to town and I’m the first person he’s tried to befriend. I don't want to cut Adam out of my life, I know this. It would be much worse to stop seeing him altogether than in would be to continue living with unrequited love.

  Crap, no, not love. This is more like unrequited sexual attraction. That's a real thing, right? Unrequited sexual attraction, yes, that's what these feeling are called. I close my eyes and pray for sleep to come.

  Chapter Six: A Friendly Invite

  The next morning I wake up in a better place. I'm still physically in my bed but already I feel happier because the sun is shining and the blue jays are singing outside my windows. I left them open last night even though the Georgia heat has finally started to overwhelm the town and there’s something about the warm air mixed with a cool morning breeze that invigorates the body. The kids get me up by jumping on the end of the bed demanding chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. I swear they can tell by the weather that mom will be more agreeable and fun today.

  Tyler sets our kitchen table and Gabby helps add the chocolate chips to the pancake batter. She dumps in so many chips that I end up having to put in more of the other ingredients to make them edible. Even after we're all stuffed I have so much batter left over I decide to bring it with us to the B&B. I'll make French toast and chocolate chip pancakes for the guests.

  The kids and I all dress in summer clothes for another warm spring day, further improving my good mood. We get over to the B&B by 7:45 and I head straight into the kitchen as usual. Gabby is such a little mother hen, insisting on helping again with making breakfast. I let her stir the fruit as I cut it up and dump it into a large serving bowl. Tyler keeps himself busy with the toys he brought with him. Later, one of his friends is getting dropped off for a play date which will occupy him for a few hours. It'll be just Gabby then who needs entertaining while I work.

  John comes downstairs first and looks pleased with the breakfast spread. I've made French toast, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and fruit salad. Dave and Larry follow a few minutes later and they all take heaping platefuls of food into the dining room. I grab a small plate of the fruit for myself and a cup of coffee and join them in the dining room. Mr. Thatcher always reminds me that hospitality and kindness is what brings guests back year after year so I want to make sure I do a little small talking.