Notes on His Pillow

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Notes on His Pillow Page 16

by Diana Currie


  Kelly opens her bedroom door a few minutes later and Leila comes running out to greet me. She’s wearing a pretty yellow dress with matching ribbons in her hair. She looks adorable.

  “Good morning, Leila! Don’t you look pretty today,” I say enthusiastically.

  “Thank you, Miss Amanda! I’m going to see my cousins today. They’re all boys.”

  I laugh when she wrinkles her nose. “I know your cousins, sweetheart. I’m sure they’re looking forward to seeing you too. Are you hungry?”

  Kelly smiles as she walks up behind Leila and urges her to go into the dining room to sit with Adam. “Thank you so much for breakfast, Amanda. It smells so good.”

  “Just doing my job. Do you like coffee? I’m already brewing a pot for Adam,” I say feeling a light blush color my cheeks at the mention of his name. And I know I hear the ruffling of newspaper as I say it too.

  “Sure, that would be wonderful. Can I help you with anything?” she replies.

  “Everything is just about done. If you’ll take the coffee cups to the table I’ll be right behind you with the food.”

  Kelly walks over to the coffeemaker and pours two mugs full. She adds skim milk to one and stirs it up. “Hmm, I have to ask Adam how he takes his coffee,” she muses.

  “Cream and a little sugar,” I answer immediately.

  Kelly lifts and eyebrow at me. “Part of my job,” I reply quickly turning to lift the tray of French toast and sausages.

  I leave my guests to eat in peace and get to work on the dishes I used making breakfast. I made sure to eat with the kids this morning so I wouldn’t be forced to sit across the table from Adam. Kelly and Leila bring in their empty dishes and compliment my culinary skills again before returning to their room to get ready to leave for the day. I heard Kelly telling Adam over breakfast that they were headed over to George’s house and that he was going to take them on a little tour of the town. Adam mentioned he’d be leaving for Savannah after breakfast. I was relieved to hear I’d be alone in the house until this afternoon, but it made me very curious to know why he was going out to Savannah.

  Kelly and Leila let me know they will be gone until after dinner. As they are leaving I tell Kelly to say hello to George for me. Meanwhile, Adam has retreated quietly to his room and stays there until someone knocks on the front door. He must be expecting a guest because he hurries down the stairs with his jacket in one hand and beats me to the door before I can get out of the kitchen. Standing in the hall I look to see who's come to visit Adam.

  It's Caroline Brickman. She kisses her son's cheeks and then her eyes fall on me. I suppose I am staring but I can't help it. Once again I'm stunned by her beauty and elegance. Caroline's hair is pulled back in a twist that exposes her long neck and the large diamond studs in her ears. She'd wearing fitted black slacks, and a cream colored sweater with matching heels. Her style and poise rivals Nikki's mother's.

  "Mom, you remember Amanda?" Adam says making direct eye contact with me for the second time today.

  "Of course, dear. How are you Amanda?" she asks with a bright smile.

  "I'm well, Mrs. Brickman. Good to see you again."

  "Call me Caroline, please. Adam tells me you've been taking very good care of him here."

  "I'm glad to hear it Mrs- Caroline. Adam's been a fantastic house guest." I can't stop the blush. Damn these cheeks.

  "I'll have to let my other sons know what a lovely establishment this is, right Adam? In case they come to visit and also refuse to stay with your father and me at the house." Caroline smiles and touches Adam's arm lovingly but I can sense the hurt in her voice. It bothers her that Adam is staying at the B&B and not in her home. Interesting.

  Adam looks embarrassed and slips his jacket on. "Let's go, mom," he says gently then looks at me. "I'll be back around three I think. We're going to the dealership to pick up my new car."

  "Oh, that's great. What kind of car are you getting?" I can't help but ask.

  "Lexus SUV," Adam replies shrugging.

  I smile at them both. "Can't wait to see it. Nice to see you again, Caroline."

  "You too, darling," she replies and follows Adam outside.

  I close the door behind them and notice the vehicle Caroline Brickman drives. A Range Rover. Sheesh. It looks downright glamorous parked next to my old Honda. I watch the two beautiful people getting inside the beautiful car and it makes me feel a little more like Adam and I could never be meant for each other. No matter how right it felt last night for those brief few moments we shared.

  With everyone fed and out about their business I have a few solid hours to focus on my housework. I dust, vacuum, wash the bed sheets, and make a trip to the grocery store. By the time I get around to remaking the beds it’s nearly three o’clock in the afternoon. Adam is due back any minute but I need to get into his room to remake the bed. It would be very unprofessional to leave the sheets for Adam to put on by himself.

  I try like hell not to look around his room this time, keeping my full attention on the bed, though that imagery presents its own challenges. Adam's cologne was all over the sheets when I pulled them off the mattress earlier today. The high concentration of Adam's scent in this room is intoxicating. My traitor eyes glance left to his night stand and find a new book there, a science fiction novel once again propped open by his reading glasses. Shifting to the right I see the piles of clothes Adam once had all over the chair are missing, likely stowed away in the dresser drawers, and I'm reminded of how long he plans on living here.

  I'm tucking one corner of the bed sheet nice and tight when someone clears his throat behind me. I freeze for a second feeling like I've been caught, but my only offenses are the impure thoughts that are safely embedded inside my head. I'm just doing my job, so I look over my shoulder to acknowledge Adam watching me and then go back to making the bed. My back is to the door but I feel Adam's eyes hot on my back. And when I look straight ahead I can see our reflections in the mirror over his dresser. Nope, he hasn't moved from where he leans against the doorway watching me. His eyes meet mine in the mirror and he smirks, followed by a deliberate dropping of his gaze onto my jean covered ass.

  "Hey, hey," I protest standing up straight and turning to face him. Someplace deep inside my brain I'm thankful for having chosen to wear the tight American Eagle jeans today.

  Instead of apologizing for the ass ogle or even speaking at all, Adam simply enters the red room and walks towards me. When we're a mere foot or two apart I make a move to the other side of the bed and straighten the fitted sheet. Adam sighs and takes the sheet between his fingers, helping me make the bed. I drape the comforter over the sheets and we pull it up together. I'm pulling the pillows off the floor by my feet when Adam suddenly speaks.

  "So you're nervous around me now?" he asks. His voice is soft, almost wounded.

  “You just startled me is all," I say to the pillows. I drop them one by one at the head of the bed, avoiding his face at all costs.

  "Likewise. I didn't expect to find you just now, bent over my bed," he jokes.

  I roll my eyes, not knowing how else to respond. His voice is thick as molasses and husky with the sexual implication of his words. If you could have sex with a voice box I might just do it with Adam's. I get the impression he's attempting to flirt with me, and there's nothing I want more than to get out of this room. I flirt worse than I dance. It's not pretty.

  "You're teasing me," I chide taking a few tentative steps towards the door. Unfortunately, I need to pass him to get to the exit.

  "I'm trying to get you to talk to me," he replies stepping away from the bed so he now stands directly in front of me. Drat.

  "About what?" I ask nonchalantly.

  "You know what," he whispers. I look up into his green eyes and see his face is tense, pained.

  He regrets the kiss last night, I can tell. Whether it's because it didn't mean anything to him or he can see how embarrassed it's made me remains to be seen. Either way I think it's pretty obvious to
both of us what a gargantuan crush I have on him. I am mortified; my whole body is trembling now with a need to escape. His gaze is just too hypnotic; his angelic face too much for me to resist.

  I don't know why he wants to discuss The Kiss but I can't handle a rehash right now. He moves forward slightly and reaches for my arm. Quickly, I hustle past him and out into the hall. Finally, I'm safely outside the intense gravitational pull of his eyes.

  "I have to pick up my kids. Then I'll be back to make dinner," I say a little more businesslike than I intended.

  His outstretched arm slowly drops to his side as he turns to face me. He nods and offers up a small smile. "Alright."

  Without another word I bolt down the hall, down the steps, and turn the corner into the kitchen where I'm safely out of sight. I wish things weren’t so awkward. I never should have let him kiss me. Fighting back tears I get my purse off the counter and head outside. Next to my old beat up Honda sits a shiny new white Lexus. It's gorgeous, just like its owner. Peeking through the driver side window I see a fancy built in navigation system, black leather seats, and a stick shift. The striking differences between our two vehicles mirrors exactly what I see when I look at Adam and me together. He's single, ungodly handsome, a doctor, and comes from a wealthy nuclear family. I'm divorced, have two kids, a 12th grade education, and come from a middle class broken family.

  He and I are worlds apart and I wonder again what Adam was thinking last night. Since I blocked his attempt to talk about it I'm left only with my own speculation. It was very late and he was half asleep. He wasn't expecting to see me there in the kitchen. The whole thing was probably an impulse on his part. And now he regrets it because he can see how kissing me has made my crush on him tailspin into something that will affect our friendship. And that is, after all, what Adam has repeatedly said he wants. Friendship.

  I allow myself the five minute car ride to the daycare to cry my eyes out. Every once in a while I need this; to think about everything that's troubling me and just let it all out. The pressure of raising my kids alone overwhelms me. The rift that will forever stand between Tommy and I being friends again. The sad little faces of my children as they get shuffled back and forth between Tommy's house and mine. The gossip that goes on behind my back for marrying too young and letting my marriage fail. And to top it all off, worse even than breaking the heart of Swainsboro's golden boy, would be what people would say if they ever found out I kissed an older man, who's way out of my league, a guest at the B&B, and all before the ink dries on my divorce papers.

  Sometimes women just need the physical release of a good cry; I can't explain it. Men don't deal with stress the same way. But it always helps me clear my head. My face is blotchy but at least the water works have stopped by the time I reach the daycare. I feel better, as I always do after a soul cleansing like this. I sit in the car a few more minutes until all traces of my tears have left my face. Plaster that smile on your face, Amanda. It's time to be Mom.

  I feel better when I see the kids. They are always happy to see me and I hug them a little longer than usual, soaking up their excitement and energy. I may have a multitude of regrets in my life, but Tyler and Gabby are my two great successes. They always remind me of the ways in which I'm blessed and what's important in life. Looking into their little faces reassures me that the kind of car I drive isn't all that important.

  My two little darlings aren't thrilled to be going to the B&B instead of home but the promise of spaghetti and meatballs for dinner softens the blow. As I pull back into my parking spot I see Adam's new car is still there and Kelly's has yet to return. She did tell me she and Leila were eating with George and his family tonight. I'd forgotten. So dinner tonight will be just the four of us. And I can't skip it because I just promised the kids.

  Adam's nowhere to be found when we get inside the house. Gabby runs down the hall to look for Leila and is very disappointed to find the blue room empty. I go into the kitchen to start dinner and soon hear the creaking floorboards above my head. Adam is on the move. My daughter hears them too and runs to the bottom of the stairs to greet him.

  "Hi Dr. Adam! Wanna play Barbie's with me?" she asks him sweetly.

  I don't turn around to see if he's looking at me. I'd rather let the poor man play Barbie's then have to see his face again right now. The tears have stopped, but they are never far away.

  Adam chuckles at Gabby's attempt at coercing him with her cuteness. "I have another idea. I bought you something in Savannah today. Wanna see?"

  "Yeah! What is it?"

  "Come into the dining room with me. We need a flat surface," he replies.

  I set the pasta to boil on the stove and shamelessly eavesdrop on Adam and my children while I work on preparing a salad. Tyler has joined them now and they both seem excited for what Adam has. I'm a little curious too, but I trust him with my kids so there's no reason to go investigate.

  "Cool!" Tyler exclaims.

  "What is it?" Gabby asks.

  Adam laughs again. I don't know why he ever doubted he'd make a good pediatrician. I can tell he really loves children and he's so good with my kids. "It's a jigsaw puzzle, Gabby. See the picture on the box? When we finish putting all these pieces together it'll make this picture of SpongeBob and Patrick. See?"

  "Whoa," she replies in awe.

  "Let me do it!" Tyler says. I can see him in my mind’s eye grabbing pieces from the table or out of Gabby's little hands.

  "We can all do it, buddy," Adam says calmly. "Here, you work on these yellow pieces that make SpongeBob. And Gabby, you work on these pink pieces that make Patrick."

  "I wanna make SpongeBob!" she whines.

  "You told me your favorite color is pink. That's why I think you should make Patrick," Adam says enthusiastically. "I'll work on these straight edges and I bet we can get the puzzle put together before your mommy is done making us dinner."

  "Okay," Gabby agrees. "I do love pink."

  Adam laughs. "Good girl. Thank you."

  I cook quietly, making sure not to bang pots or make any noise that would overshadow the sounds of the three of them working together on the puzzle. Another tear or two might drop from my eyes during the process but this time I am smiling.

  Dinner is served a half hour later and I set the table in the kitchen so as not to disturb the puzzle on the dining room table. Adam overestimated the cognitive ability of a three year old and the 100 piece puzzle isn't exactly complete by dinnertime. At least the border is done. So we eat together in the kitchen. I've made spaghetti, meatballs, Caesar salad, and garlic bread.

  The tension is a little more bearable over the meal. The kids act as a great distraction from all things relating to The Kiss. Tyler sings to us about his meatballs rolling off the table and out the door and Gabby laughs in delight. Adam looks at me a few times but doesn't try to drum up any conversation. Eventually I decide I'm being immature and I have to find a way to talk to Adam again; especially since he'll be living here for many months.

  "I talked to Mr. Thatcher yesterday," I say casually. Good news always works as an icebreaker. "He said he'd be more than happy to cut your nightly rate in half if you'll be here at least through the summer."

  Adam smiles and dabs his lips with a napkin. "That is good news. Thank you so much for talking to him for me, Amanda."

  I feel my cheeks warming. "It's no problem. We love having you here. What is Caroline going to say about it?"

  Adam shrugs. "I'm sorry about her comment earlier today; she was out of line. I feel bad because I know she wants me home but she doesn't understand that to me that house isn't home. I've never lived there. And I'm already working with my father every day. I couldn't handle living with him too."

  I nod in understanding. I suppose I wouldn't want to move back in with my dad either. I considered it right before Tommy and I separated but I didn't think I could stand the idea of returning to my childhood home with my tail between my legs. I needed to stand on my own two feet. I wonder if Ada
m's situation is similar. I remember what Rebecca said she overheard in Gregory's office. The comment about the trouble his son was having living away from home. I want to ask him more about it but I remember that his tongue was in my mouth last night and I decide not to get into anything too personal.

  I think he senses that I'm about to shut down again. "So, did you see the car?" he asks quickly.

  "Yes. Hot ride, Adam. Damn," I reply smiling.

  "Mommy, that's a bad word."

  "You're right. I'm sorry, Gabby."

  I look across the table at Adam to see him biting his lower lip to contain his laughter. Yeah, it is amusing when a three year old corrects you on bad language. I roll my eyes and Adam lets a giggle slip out.

  Gabby frowns. "It's not funny, Dr. Adam. Mommy owes a money to the jar."

  "I'll put a quarter in the bad word jar, Gabby. Now why don't you kids put your dirty plates in the sink for me? You only have until I've cleaned up to finish that puzzle. Then we're going home."

  Tyler and Gabby scramble out of their chairs and dump their plates in the sink with a loud clatter. They race one another into the dining room and immediately start fighting over puzzle pieces. Adam gives me a guilty look and I laugh despite myself.

  "Thank you for that by the way. It was a good idea. Anything to get their eyes off the television screen for a while," I say as I take another couple dishes to the sink.

  Adam comes up right behind me, his plate and glass in hand. He's close enough for me to smell his cologne. It's intoxicating. I slowly move away and start sifting through the mail to distract myself. Why does he keep doing that? It's almost as if he's trying to keep a close proximity without physically touching. I have a feeling he still wants to discuss The Kiss. Well, that's not happening. I haven't even begun to sift through all my conflicting feelings about last night. I need Rebecca.

 

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