I forget making the bed. She wants me gone?
When I asked to stay here for the week, I assumed the weekend was part of it. I assumed… a lot more than she was ready for, obviously. “I can stay and help all weekend.”
She shakes her head, but avoids my gaze. “No, but thanks. You’ll have the girls next weekend and if you actually do the whole weekend, that’ll give me time to catch up.”
And if you actually do the whole weekend.
When haven’t I? I thought back to my time with the girls. It involved a lot of juggling and sometimes I had to bring them back early to make conference calls. And there were a few trips out of town when I either flew out on Sunday or came back on Saturday.
So, yeah. I stiffed Natalie quite a bit.
“They’ll be with me the whole time. Don’t worry.”
Her expression is dubious, but she nods and escapes to the bathroom. The door clicks shut behind her. A minute goes by where I do nothing but stare at it.
Footsteps and voices echo through the house. The kids are awake. I need to pack. And leave.
My chest tightens until it’s hard to draw breath. I need to leave.
But I can hang out while Natalie collects herself. For a couple hours, I can pretend I’m a dad who doesn’t have to leave and go days without seeing them when we live in the same town.
My time is cut short. I barely say good morning to the kids when Natalie comes out of the bathroom and announces that she’s taking the kids to see Nana.
I give them goodbye hugs and let them help me pack my suits and bags in the car. I send Charlie a message that I’ll drop my items off at the dry cleaners so he doesn’t look for them when he swaps out clean with dirty suits tomorrow.
The drive to my place sucks. Each mile farther away I get from the house, my mood darkens.
I park in front of the squat, square dry cleaning building and stare out the windshield. People drive by. Adults and kids. Families. Out doing something fun for Saturday.
That could be me.
I yank the car door open and gather my items. A middle-aged woman walking out of the dry cleaners politely holds the door open for me, but her smile fades when she sees the expression on my face. She darts away as soon as I’m clear of the doorway.
My items are left with the teenager stuck with the weekend shift. I leave and go to my condo. Once I let myself in, I busy myself with unpacking. That takes all of five minutes.
The place is quiet. The traffic noise from outside doesn’t make its way in. As old as the building is, the floors don’t creak under my feet. There’s no laughter. No TV or music from games and toys, and definitely no arguing over who really owns the Harley Quinn doll and therefore who gets rights to playing with it whenever they want.
I drop into a chair in the living room. Have I ever sat in this before? Sometimes I catch the news on the couch. Gazing out the window, I do nothing for a long, long time.
I keep going back to this morning. To the exquisite pleasure of being intimate with my wife. Then to the dawning horror when she realized that I slept with her all night.
Natalie wants me gone. The thought of being intimate with me affects her so much she’d rather not have me around.
Being intimate with me affects her.
Three times now, she’s responded to me. Both in mind and body, though her conscious mind overrides it all.
She’s still attracted to me.
A small smile creeps along my lips. I can work with that.
* * *
Natalie
The weekend without Simon sucks. There’s no sugar-coating it. No pretending that I’m fine, that me and the girls do just fine, and life from here on out is awesome.
It’s like those first months alone after Simon moved out. I’m hovering just above being despondent and the girls are clingier, needier. Every time I sit down, one of them is on me. If I get up to try to do laundry, I can’t turn a corner without tripping on them. I finally give up trying to do anything productive and we head down to our home theater.
This time, they pick a Lego movie and I don’t have to ask why. Simon loves the Lego movies. I don’t pay attention to the show, but hug the girls as they cuddle with me and space out on the screen.
I woke up with my hand down his shorts.
He claimed I asked him to stay with me all night. I believe him. He’s never lied about that stuff before. And how many times have I gone to bed wishing he was there?
Was I really attacking him while I was asleep?
Was I really asleep?
Thinking back to this morning, my cheeks warm. I was in that stage of sleep and awake and very aware that someone I’m limitlessly attracted to was in bed with me.
His body was so hard. And his—yeah. That was hard too.
The phone saves me from continuing down that path. Until I look at the caller ID. Simon.
I ease out from under the girls and crouch on the stairs. A wall blocks the worst of the sound and the girls won’t hear what I’m saying.
“Hey,” Simon says after I answer. “I wanted to touch base about this week.”
Part of me is disappointed. His tone is gentle, not his usual brusque and businesslike one, but he’s still talking logistics. This isn’t an I want you back call. As if that would be better.
“Yes. I’ll drop them off Wednesday when you’re done with work.”
“I can pick them up.”
So seeing his car in the driveway and him walking through the house can mess me up? Wednesday’s too soon to withstand that. “We’ll be out and about. I can drop them off.”
“Okay. About the weekend…”
I squeeze my eyes shut. He’s going to ditch them. I’ll have to deal with the questions and the feelings of insecurity when I tell the girls—both mine and theirs. I was right to ask him to leave.
“Lancaster is giving Helena a hard time and I think it’s best to meet him in person. Play a few rounds of golf and get a feel for what his friends are telling him that contradicts so badly with me.”
“Doesn’t Lancaster live in town?”
“He’s in Arizona year-round now.” My hopes are dropping that isn’t the brush-off I think it is. I’m already working through my free time the next week and when I can get into the office for my own work when Simon clears his throat. “Do you guys want to come with?”
I blink at the wall. Tiny giggles filter out from the movie room. “All of us?”
“Yeah. It’ll just be me. Helena’s going to stay back and deal with anything else that comes up. But we can get a suite with separate rooms and you guys can do what you want while I talk to Lancaster.”
I want to say yes so badly, but I make myself slow down and think it through. Helena won’t be with us. That would help make it feel like less of a family vacation and more of a work trip where he brings the kids. Regardless, I won’t be totally tied to Simon and his schedule. Me and the girls would be free to do what we want.
I feel like it’s crossing a line, but I can’t figure out where the line is. When Simon travels on the weekend, it’s all about work—even when we were married. There was no traveling with babies, or packing us all up and going. This is a first.
“We’d be coming home on Sunday?” It’s like I’m trying to find a reason to say no. Like missing a day of sports sampler camp would be a deal breaker to give the girls a unique travel experience.
“Yes. I can’t rush this thing with Lancaster. I might be out on the greens each morning, but he works remotely throughout the week.”
But the afternoon would be too hot to golf. At least I assume so. I haven’t been to Arizona and I don’t golf. Simon mastered golf in college after he heard that tennis and golf are stellar networking events and where a lot of major business decisions are made. He’s passable in tennis too.
“Okay. Yeah. It’ll be fun to get a mini-vacation.”
He goes quiet. “We weren’t very good at taking vacations before, were we?”
“Work
always comes first.” And there was no one to take over. There still isn’t.
Once I was busy with kids, most of the load fell on Simon. If Helena had been around then, we could’ve snuck away, but hiring a full-time employee, one with the salary needed to recruit someone knowledgeable and experienced, wasn’t an option until after Liam died.
Simon ignores the dig about work. “We’ll fly out Friday. Charlie’s arranging the flight and hotel. I’ll have him send you the details.”
A tendril of hurt snakes through me. His assistant has to deal with me. It’s exactly the distance I asked for and don’t want.
“Okay.”
“And Natalie.” There was a note of caution in Simon’s tone. “I may be at Lancaster’s beck and call. Don’t make plans around me. I want you guys to have fun.”
“We’ll make it work.”
We disconnect. He expected me to say no, but I can’t. He’s making an effort. For someone married to his work, asking to bring the kids on a work trip, especially with an account that’s as critical as Lancaster’s, is a huge step.
Without seeing old friends, Arizona is definitely better than moping around the house and doing laundry and arranging gear for the sport of the week. Speaking of which, it’s T-ball week. I need to find baseball gloves. I have a small pink one that Abby used when she was in T-ball. I need to find the one that’ll fit Maddy.
Then I’ll have to think about packing. With my parents living in the same city, there’s little reason to travel. But this weekend, we’re flying out. Giddiness prompts a smile. I haven’t gone out of town in so long. Simon’s parents are rarely in the country and when they are, they land in Fargo for a kiss-kiss hug-hug we’re so busy we must leave immediately visit. They love their grandchildren, but not enough to spend time with them when it means tolerating me. I refuse to send my kids to grandparents who don’t respect me.
I walk back into the room where the Lego movie is still going strong with a smile on my face. Do I tell the girls?
Or do I wait? Simon’s notorious for plan changes. But after the last two weeks, I feel like he’ll move heaven and earth to make this weekend happen. And what’s worse, if he does, it’ll only be hard for me and my heart. Because then I’ll start to think that he’s really changed and my heart will ignore my gut.
Chapter 10
Simon
Sweat trickles down my back. Dry heat or not, it’s fucking hot.
The greens are packed with everyone else who thinks it’s a good idea to golf in the early morning hours at the most shaded golf course in Phoenix.
I wipe my brow and chug another bottle of water. Since I’ve had a few and don’t have to piss, I drink another.
Lancaster squints, crow’s feet winging out from under the brim of his ball cap. “Hope you skipped the coffee this morning.”
“I can’t imagine drinking anything hot before coming out here.”
He chuckles and selects an iron from his bag. I’m shamelessly taking refuge under the canopy of the golf cart. The two other guys we’re golfing with are somewhere on the hole. Lancaster hung back to wait for me.
For older men carrying a decent beer gut on each of them, they can out-golf the hell out of me. Lancaster adjusts the elastic waistband on his white shorts. He must have a tan line from his shins to his mid-thighs thanks to his shorts and high socks. He’s always reminded me of Natalie’s dad.
Only Natalie’s dad isn’t so paranoid about my business acumen.
I spent holes one through fourteen talking about how I select investments, who I invest with, how I’m expanding my firm, and why their ideas don’t work as well for my business model. There’s no animosity or confrontation. I get the impression that this was a group that missed the fast-paced high stakes work-life and lived vicariously through whoever would talk to them.
One of Lancaster’s buddies is talking real estate with one of the ladies from a group that’s in front of us at the holes. Their group is an identical version of the one I’m with. Retirees who hang out and live vicariously through each other’s work war stories.
Not that I mind golf, but I’m over it for the whole weekend. For the rest of the summer. It’s hot, while the hotel I left has air conditioning and a whirlpool that I fantasize is filled with cool water for soaking my hot and sweaty balls.
I also imagine asking Natalie to join me, but that’s a different problem and one I can’t think about surrounded by retired individuals.
“You should apply another round of sunscreen.” Lancaster’s standing in the shade of the golf cart.
“Good idea.” I stand clear of the cart and reapply sunscreen to all exposed skin. “What’s there to do in Phoenix on Saturday afternoons that’s good for kids?”
Lancaster’s brow furrowed. “You brought your kids?” He doesn’t sound disapproving and that’s why I like Lancaster even though he’s a pain in the ass. His kids are grown, but he’s always talking about his grandkids and asking about Abby and Maddy. “Is Natalie here too?”
“Yes, they’re all here.” I slide the sunscreen canister back in my borrowed golf bag’s pouch. “I don’t know if I ever mentioned it, but Natalie and I got divorced.”
“Aw hell. I’m sorry to hear that. When she left the company, I just thought with the kids…” He waves to a group in front of us, his expression solemn. “But you brought her here? When did you get divorced?”
This might be crossing boundaries with a client, but I married young and worked all the time. My friends list is short. “Last fall.”
“Divorced that recently and she still flew with you here?” When I nod, his eyes shine with approval. “Good, I guess. My first wife made me pay for working too much. I almost made the same mistake with Peggy, but by then, I’d made enough money to slack off and hire more people. It’s tough when you’re just starting out.”
I feel more like a weathered veteran, but Lancaster has owned various companies for the last forty years. He’s continued to dabble in real estate and investments with Peggy. They’re actually Peggy’s holdings, but once Lancaster retired, she allowed him to partner with her.
“It’s not easy.” Now we’re stuck waiting for the other group to make it through the sixteenth hole, but I sense Lancaster wants the privacy.
“Why don’t you guys come out to my place?”
What would Natalie think? She enjoyed Lancaster and could talk him down much better than Helena, but I don’t want to decide for her. “I’d have to ask her.”
“You do that. Tell her that we have a pool the girls can play in and it’s even shaded. I’ll grill. It’ll be a blast. Peggy’s having grandkid withdrawals.” He snorts. “No one wants to visit us in the summer. Can you believe it?”
Since I’m about to disintegrate into a pile of ash, yes, my northern climate ass can believe it. “Since we have time, I’ll give her a call.”
To get a little privacy, I have to step out of the shade. I’m wearing a Lancaster Industries hat that was waiting for me when I arrived, but the sun beats down on me.
When Natalie answers, loud voices echo on the other end. “What’s up?”
“Lancaster invited us over for the afternoon. Do you have plans already?”
“Is it a business thing?” The phone gets muffled as she calls after one of the girls. “Quit putting your face against the glass. They don’t like that.”
My guess is they’re looking at snakes or frogs. There’s no animal that can repel the girls. My gut twists as I look around. I’d rather be at the zoo with them. I’m missing their awe over animals they’ve never seen before. “No. He said Peggy is going through grandkid withdrawal and would love to have us over.”
“I miss talking to Peggy,” she says wistfully. “Do they know we’re…”
Divorced. “Yes. He’s impressed that you can stand me.”
That gets a chuckle from her. “I always did like him. Oh, thank you for breakfast this morning.”
“Anytime.” Before I left, I arranged for roo
m service with all their favorites for when I knew they’d be awake.
“They have a pool.” Everyone has a pool here, but I really want this visit with Natalie. It’s a trip I can give her and the girls. I won’t exactly be working.
“The hotel has a pool, but I’ve been informed that it looks boring. Sure. Let’s do it. I was going to head back to the hotel soon anyway. We’re all wilting.”
After I hang up, I let Lancaster know we’re on.
He grins. “I knew I liked you. I’m glad you came. Helena’s… she’s not the same as you and Natalie.”
Helena’s professional to the bone and probably doesn’t swap the best steak seasoning stories with the avid griller. “She’s focused.”
“Yeah. You both need to learn there’s more to life than work.” He shoots me a knowing look. “Learn before it’s too late.”
“I think that ship has sailed.”
He adjusts his white hat, which doesn’t have sweat stains on it. Either he’s impervious to the heat, or he swaps it out every week. My hat will have to be burned after today. “Whether you and Natalie work things out, and let’s face it, the divorce is kind of a final sign, take heed. It feels like work gives you everything. Money that brings opportunity that brings a life you never expected. But it doesn’t tuck you in at night. It’s not there when you’re sick, it doesn’t care if it’s your birthday or whether you celebrate Christmas or Hanukkah. Work can wait.”
The guy that’s been sucking up all our weekend concentration just told me work can wait? I need to let it go, but I don’t. “What about those weekend emails I keep getting?” My tone is light, but I have to fight to keep the irritation from showing in my face.
Lancaster’s face screws up like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. “I email when I think about it. You don’t have to answer right away. They have autoresponders nowadays. Peggy has one for weekends, holidays, evenings, you name it, she autoresponds that we’ll be back during such and such hours. You should try it sometime. Oop, they’re done.”
Eligible Ex-husband Page 8