by Diana Currie
Brett comes jogging out of the bedroom that was Rachel's as a child with a big smile on his face and no shirt on his chest. Rachel's room was bigger than his growing up. I asked once why he never moved into his parents’ old room and he said he couldn't bear to change the decor from the way his mother had decorated it. Unfortunately, he also felt that wallpaper with butterflies on it would be emasculating for a twenty three year old man to have in his bedroom.
"Hey Ty! Hey Squirt! What are you guys doing here?" Brett asks pushing the screen door open for us.
The kids scramble inside and I press my hand against Brett's chest as I pass him, silently joking about his being half clothed. His chest is warm and slightly sweaty. "Sorry to just drop in like this. It was a totally crazy morning and we were already in the car when I thought about visiting," I explain. "Were you working out?"
"Yeah, but I'd just started. What happened that made the morning crazy?" he asks curiously.
Gabby lifts her bandaged hand and pushes her lower lip out to the max. Brett's eyes widen and he goes to kneel in front of her, kissing the back of her hand. "What happened, Squirt?”
"I took my eyes off her for two minutes and she burned her hand on the stove top trying to get to her breakfast," I say with a sigh. "Speaking of which, are you hungry? I owe these kids some French toast."
Brett cocks his head to one side and looks at me like I must be joking. Of course, Brett is always hungry. I chuckle and make myself at home in his kitchen. "I'll restock your fridge on my next visit, I promise," I say as I pull bread, eggs, and milk from his refrigerator. I'm lucky he has these staples. After I take out what I need there's not much left inside but beer.
"Don't worry about it. You feed me at your house all the time," he replies, swatting Gabby's behind lightly as she runs off to play air hockey with Tyler.
"Be careful of your hand, Gabby!" I yell over my shoulder as I hear Tyler turning on the table. I look at Brett as he grabs a beer from the fridge and sits on one of the wicker kitchen chairs that have been in this room my entire life. "The last thing I need is for her to pop a blister and have to face the doctor again! Ugh."
"What? Did he give you a hard time about her getting burned or something?"
"No, it's me giving me a hard time about that. Actually, Adam was the doctor on duty this morning."
Brett groans. "How are things going with the rich handsome doctor? Has he fallen in love with you yet?"
I roll my eyes as I hunt for a frying pan. "You say it like it's inevitable. I'm confused enough with him just liking me."
"He told you that?"
I ignore him for a few moments, cracking the eggs into a bowl and mixing in the other ingredients. "He didn't have to tell me, I figured it out when he kissed me," I say softly.
"Get the fuck out of here. You kissed him already? Mandy, I'm impressed," Brett teases.
"Shhh," I say with my finger over my lips. "I don't want anyone to know, especially Tyler and Gabby, okay? It didn't mean anything. Well, it meant something, but I told him that nothing more can happen."
"Why the fuck not?"
"I'm not even divorced yet, that's why. It's too complicated. And stop cursing, Brett Tyson."
Brett smirks at me as I dip the bread into the egg mixture and toss the first few slices into the frying pan. The sizzling sound of the butter comforts me as cooking always does. I'm freaking hungry now too. It smells so good.
"So you told him to hang around and wait for Tommy to sign the damn divorce papers? I hope the guy's got more self restraint than I do."
"Being legally married isn't my only concern. I'm completely over Tommy, and finding someone as kind and sweet as Adam is like a dream come true, but I wasn't expecting it to happen this fast. I really don't want to confuse the kids. And I can't imagine telling Tommy that I'm seeing someone else," I reply starting to get myself upset. It was a lot easier to crush on Adam when I thought he'd never return the feelings. I’m beginning to feel like I’m in over my head.
“Hey, hey, Mandy. Don't get all worked up. You really like this guy, don't you?" he asks getting up from the chair to stand beside me. He leans against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest.
"Yes. What am I going to do? My brain says to slow down, just be his friend and focus on the kids. But my heart is telling me this guy is special and not to let him get away."
"Just do what I do. Don't let your brain or your heart tell you what to do," he says suggestively.
"I already know what body part you listen to," I reply dryly, poking him in the ribs with my index finger. I put the French toast aside and crack some eggs for scrambling.
“Seriously. If you want my advice, I say take things slow. Give yourselves some time to get to know one another. But there's no reason you can't get to know each other and have a little fun too."
"What will people think? Tommy and I haven't been apart that long. And Adam's my guest at the B&B. I thought I'd be alone for years if not forever. Adam has literally shown up on my doorstep and caught me completely by surprise."
"Fuck the town folk, Mandy. Honestly, I've never understood why you care so much what they think of you."
He's right, I do care too much. I think it comes from being the pastor's daughter. Dad is always careful about how he presents himself in public. He has a specific image to uphold, one that earns him respect among the people of Swainsboro. While I was growing up he never got drunk at barbecues like other dads, spoke badly about my mother, fished out of season, or broke any laws set by man or by God.
"You just need to do what makes you happy. I know you don't believe it, but you deserve to be happy, Amanda. Your self esteem has really taken a hit with this divorce. And if you're worried about what the pipsqueaks will think then just don't tell them for a while. They'll never know as long as you two don't suck face in front of them," Brett says pretending to shiver at the thought.
I smile warmly up at him, feeling a little bit better. "I’ll think about it. Thanks, Brett." I call Gabby and Tyler in to eat and take the hot food over to the kitchen table; Brett following close behind.
"I do still wonder what Adam even wants with me. Who wants to date a single mother with two kids?" I say shrugging just as Gabby runs in and throws her arms around Brett's legs in a hug.
Brett laughs. "I'm guessing maybe a doctor who loves children enough to be in the business of fixing boo boos." He leans down and kisses Gabby’s bandaged hand. She giggles and runs off to sit at the table where Tyler is already helping himself to the food. Brett looks at me like he knows he's right.
"I know, I know. I need more self esteem. Now go put a shirt on. No food until your dressed, young man," I scold slapping his hand away from the platter of French toast.
"Yes, Mom,” he huffs theatrically. “You know... sometimes you make it feel like she's still around. It's nice," he smirks at me over his shoulder and then shuffles down the hall.
I smile back at him, not sure how to process that. I like that Brett sees me as family, because that's how I view him too. But a motherly figure? Having two kids to care for has certainly changed my perspective on life. And I can’t hang out with Brett and Rebecca the way we used to because the kids keep me plenty busy. I suppose it's better than him constantly thinking of me as the best friend he bedded a few months back.
The four of us enjoy breakfast together and then Brett suggests we walk down to the lake. The lake is a ten minute walk from him house and the kids love it there. Gabby asks about Sadie so we knock on her door to see if she can come out to play. Sadie's mom agrees and Brett and I walk behind the three kids all the way to the sandy gravel near the water. We sit together on our favorite fallen tree trunk, our feet just touching the water's edge, watching Tyler chase the girls around and make them scream when he splashes water on them.
"This reminds me of my childhood," Brett muses. "Chasing Rachel around; torturing her."
I chuckle. "You were taller than her by what, fifth grade?"
"F
ourth. That was the best, and when I realized I was stronger than her too."
"I'm surprised Rachel even talks to you now," I tease thinking back on all the ways Brett made his sister wish he'd never been born. He was such a mischievous little brother.
Brett hums thoughtfully and looks out at the water. "Thank God for Rach. I don't know what I'd do if she wasn't around, especially with my dad needing surgery."
"Is he ever moving back to your house?" I wonder.
"Last I heard he liked living with Rachel and her fiancé. Sean’s finally getting on Dad’s good side since he’s been driving him to his physical therapy appointments every day. I guess they’re bonding. He’s becoming closer to my father than I am," he says grimacing.
I know that look on his face and decide to change the subject. "What about you, huh? I hope you're love life's going better than mine."
At that Brett's lips quirk up into a smile and I know I've guessed correctly. There hasn't been anyone for him in months but he only works out in the middle of the afternoon when there's a girl around to impress.
"So? Who is she?" I press.
"Remember the girl from the movie theater in Savannah?" he asks.
"The one that made you miss the previews?"
Brett smirks. “Yep. We hung out a few days ago. And I’m going to see her again Saturday night. She’s cool.”
“Good for you. She lives in Savannah?” I ask with genuine interest.
“Yeah. She’s an administrative assistant for a chiropractor. Gives an awesome BJ.”
I groan. “You’re such a man whore, Brett. I can’t believe I ever slept with you.”
I’m teasing him, though sometimes I do wonder just how completely out of my own head I was to let myself cross that line with him after more than twenty years of friendship. I guess it proves just how vulnerable I was after the separation. I’d like to think I’ve become stronger and more independent than I was then. My head is less foggy now; I know ending my marriage was the right decision and I’ve made my peace with it. Mostly. But how much has really changed? I’m still stuck in Swainsboro with few career opportunities and even fewer eligible bachelors.
I knew leaving Tommy but staying in Swainsboro could quite possibly mean being alone for a long time. Even Brett has resorted to going outside the town limits to get dates. But quite unexpectedly, here I am a few short months after leaving my husband, toying with the idea of crossing the friend line with Adam. Trying to balance our friendship with the lust I’m harboring feels a little like déjà vu. Only I know a romance with Adam would not be something I’d regret in a week. Am I ready for another relationship? I don’t know if I’ve had sufficient time alone to grow enough as a person to make that determination.
The sound of Brett’s voice pulls me out of my reverie. "Just remember, Mandy. If you aren't ready for a boyfriend just yet you're more than welcome to come warm my bed again," Brett teases lifting his eye brows up and down suggestively.
"Forget it, Brett!" I tease back and push his chest as hard as I can.
He falls off the dead log and lands flat on his back in the wet sand. He groans as he hits the ground, catching the kids' attention and making them laugh out loud. All three run over and begin splashing him as he tries to get up. He pretends to fall back into the sand and reaches up for my hand to save him. He’s soaking wet now and I reach out my hand but pull it away just as Tyler jumps on Brett’s back. Brett groans and tries to crawl away from the kids as they laugh with delight.
Maybe my life isn’t so terrible just the way it is.
Chapter Twelve: Just a Friend
I left another note on Adam's pillow today. I’ve been in and out of the B&B all day and our paths haven’t crossed once. I am worried he might be avoiding me now; giving me a taste of my own medicine perhaps. I thought we left things on good terms Thursday in his office but I can’t help feeling like maybe I’m getting the brush off. I try not to think about it. I made a practical responsible decision about dating and I need to stick to it. My brain knows I made the right call, but my heart is protesting wildly.
Adam's car is parked out front when I arrive but he isn't in his room. I make an early breakfast since Kelly and Leila are checking out at nine o'clock. When Adam comes back from his morning run he somehow slips by me without saying hello. He doesn’t come down to breakfast but I heard the shower running while I eat with Kelly and Leila.
Kelly and I chat about their stay and what their plans are now. I am going to miss them and don't know whether or not we'll be seeing one another again. Kelly tells me how she is still undecided about where to move. She pays for their stay with a check so after we say our goodbyes I run her payment over to the bank. When I return to Thatcher's I notice Adam and his car are gone. I do my chores, take a reservation for the following week, and make lunch. Adam doesn't return so I put his sandwich in the refrigerator and leave to pick the kids up from daycare around two. Both Tyler and Gabby have dentist appointments so I take them over to Dr. Bradley's office for their cleanings. By the time we get back to the B&B it is nearly dinnertime.
Adam's car is still missing but the sandwich from the refrigerator is gone; the empty plate next to the sink, so he must have come back at some point during the afternoon. I make the kids dinner, hoping at any moment I will hear the front door open and Adam will be here to join us. Instead, the three of us eat in front of the television and once again I wrap up Adam's meal for him to eat later. There is a nagging fear in my chest that my actions the past week have pushed Adam away.
These worries aren't enough for me to regret my decision but it does make me wonder if our budding friendship is doomed to wilt. I want Adam in my life; of that much I am certain. So I leave him a note expressing as best I can what’s on my mind and in my heart.
Dinner is in the oven. It was too quiet here today. I missed talking to you, friend. And I just missed, well... you. –Amanda
Then I take the kids home for the night.
After a day like that, imagine my surprise the next morning as I bring Tyler and Gabby into the B&B and notice Adam's washed dinner plate sitting on the edge of the sink. He's eaten everything I left out for him and in the middle of the plate sits a folded note. My heart nearly stops when I see my name scrawled across the paper in beautiful cursive writing. Of course I know who it's from; Adam is once again the only guest in the house. But also, no one else I know would have handwriting so elegant. I open it slowly with shaking hands.
My dearest Amanda, thank you for the food. I am sorry for my absence; I was occupied with my family throughout the day. Please believe me; I missed seeing you too. I have no plans for Saturday and look forward to your arrival in the morning. Until tomorrow, Adam
"Shit," I murmur under my breath. It would seem Adam wasn't avoiding me after all. And he's looking forward to seeing me today. I wonder what that means. I tell myself it’s no big deal. Friends write notes like this to each other all the time, right? I shake my head at my internal musings. This man is most certainly going to be the death of me.
"What's wrong, Mommy?" Tyler asks startling me from behind.
I smile at him, though the nerves I feel are probably contorting my face into some creepy cross between happiness and fear. "Nothing, sweetie. Go turn on your cartoons and I'll bring breakfast to you," I encourage him.
I slip Adam's note into my purse and get down to the business of making breakfast. Floor boards creak above my head a few minutes later and I know Adam is awake. My tummy flips excitedly knowing we will soon be face to face again. Keeping my mind on the task at hand I prepare two bowls of cereal for the kids and heat up bowls of oatmeal for me and Adam. The water turns on upstairs as Adam enters the bathroom. A quick shower for my guest means I'll have enough time to cut up some fruit for the oatmeal before he comes down. Once everything is ready I take a tray to the dining room table. There's more movement above our heads while I bring the kids their Lucky Charms and orange juice; setting the dishes down on the coffee table.
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"Be careful, don't spill anything. Gabby, eat all of it, not just the marshmallows," I say sternly, watching as her little pincher fingers go right for a rainbow.
"Come on, Amanda. Everyone knows you only eat Lucky Charms for the marshmallows," a deep voice says behind me.
I hear chuckling and as I turn around the mixed scents of Adam's soap and cologne hit me like an invisible wall of sex. His eyes meet mine and I smile; one of those big goofy grins that are unavoidable when a person is as happy as I am. Adam is quite the sight this morning. His hair is damp and falling across his forehead in a haphazard fashion. He's wearing a Chicago Bears t-shirt and blue jeans. And that smell, the delicious combination of just showered and shaved with freshly laundered clothes.
"I've never seen that shirt before," I blurt out, my brain wondering how he can smell April fresh if his shirt has been in a suitcase for two weeks.
Adam smile widens as he looks down at what he's wearing and then back at my face. "I suppose you haven't," he replies cheerily. "You a football fan?"
I shake my head. "No, I just... this is going to sound weird but I can smell that it’s been recently washed, and I know I didn't wash it."
"I picked up some of my old stuff from my parents house yesterday and did a load of wash last night. I hope you don't mind. I brought over a lot of clothes and would have felt bad asking you to do that much laundry," he replies cupping the back of his neck with one hand.
With his arm raised, a small hole in the underarm seam of the shirt becomes visible and I giggle. Adam looks at me strangely and it makes me laugh harder. "What's gotten into you?" he asks amused.
"There's a hole in your shirt," I explain pointing at his arm.
"What? Where?" He searches all over the chest and the side seams but can't find any holes. I step towards him, his intoxicating sexy smell almost knocking me over as I take his large hand in mine. Slowly, I lift his arm up as high as I can reach and poke my finger though the hole. It jabs the soft taut skin of his tricep; tickling him. "Cut it out," he says laughing and backing away from me.