Sweet Harmony: An Older Man, Younger Woman Romance

by Arlo Arrow

  “There’s a showing at seven,” I called from the studio after sending my message to Susan. “We should leave now if we want to make it before the previews.”

  I silenced my phone and tucked it into my pocket. As much as I wished that Susan could be with me, she would have to wait.

  Chapter 13

  Susan

  Sleep eluded me for the few days after meeting Jeffrey’s ex-wife outside of his house. It wasn’t like I had never met her before, either. I knew her fairly well in my childhood and even liked her. But, now I was seeing her in a different light. She wasn’t an older woman I looked up to—she was the competition.

  I hated that I thought in those terms now. I always thought it was silly when girls would get into fights over men, but now I kind of understood where it came from. I wanted to be with Jeffrey more than anything in the world. I couldn’t let anyone get in my way.

  Even still, it wasn’t even completely up to Grace and me to decide who Jeffrey would choose. In the end, it took two people to make a relationship work and he could always decide that I wasn’t enough for him. He had kids to worry about, and from his perspective, it would make a lot more sense to choose the mother of his children over a girl who was the same age as their nannies.

  About twenty times a day, I would pick up my phone and either dial Jeffrey’s number or type out a text message, then delete it. I wasn’t going to be needy. After all, I had always taken pride in my independence and I was not going to throw that all away for a guy. By proving to Jeffrey that I could survive without his constant attention, I was proving to myself that I could be fine on my own. First, I would have to do that successfully.

  If he wanted me, he would call. I was not about to call him first.

  I don’t think I picked up my violin more than one or two times in the period when I was waiting for Jeffrey to call. I just wasn’t in the mood. I had abandoned the song that I was working on. It was a shame, too, because it had been going so well. It had been so cheerful and a pleasure to play. Now, everything I tried to play was slow and sad.

  I also knew that if I didn’t leave the house, my aunt would figure out that something was wrong. She was so proud of me for spending so much time with friends and practicing the violin. I didn’t like lying to her about my whereabouts, but it was so much easier to tell her little fibs than to let her in on my secret.

  When I felt up to it, I would go to the mall and wander around, just to kill time. The record stores and bookstores became my refuge. I could hide in the rows and rows of music and literature, listening and reading. At the end of the day, I’d grab a sandwich from the café and head back to the house.

  Aunt Rachel would ask how my day was, and I would make up stories about the different people I saw. She would tell me how proud she was that I was making it out of the house, and then I’d go up to my room and stare at my phone. Day after day I would repeat my routine and smile when she praised my resilience. If only she knew how things really were.

  When I texted him as I left his house, I wanted him to tell me that he loved me and he wanted to only be with me. In response, he basically offered me a rain check on the whole relationship.

  On Thursday, I wasn’t in the mood to keep up appearances so I lounged around in my sweatpants at Aunt Rachel’s house. She was good at letting me do my own thing, but after a third trip to the freezer for ice cream, she stopped me.

  “No plans today?” she asked as I scooped out giant mounds of mint chip.

  “Nope,” I said, licking the spoon.

  “How’s your friend you saw yesterday? What was her name?”

  “Lydia,” I lied, thinking of a name in the book I read cover to cover in the bookstore the previous day.

  “Huh,” she noted. “I thought you said you went to see Sarah from high school.”

  “Did I?” I mused. “I don’t know why I said that.”

  “Do you want to tell me what’s going on, or would you like me to investigate for myself?”

  “What are you talking about?” I groaned, sensing that my lying streak was busted.

  “Sit down,” she ordered, pointing to the recliner in the living room with a smirk on her face.

  I dragged my feet and plopped down in the chair with my bowl of ice cream. Rachel handed me a drink in a tall glass. I took a gulp and the alcohol stung my throat.

  “What is this?” I sputtered. I wasn’t expecting anything alcoholic at ten in the morning.

  “I thought you could use a drink,” she said; with her own drink in her hand.

  “You aren’t wrong,” I chuckled, taking another gulp.

  “How many days has it been since you’ve seen Jeffrey?” she asked.

  “Excuse me,” I coughed.

  “I know you tried to keep it a secret, but it’s pretty obvious to me what’s going on. I know there’s something going on between you and Jeffrey Knight because I saw the way you looked at each other at the funeral. I know what that look means. So, when exactly did you fall in love with him?”

  I bit my lip. I didn’t want to talk about it, but I felt like my heart would burst open if I didn’t talk to someone about it.

  “I don’t know, a few years.”

  “Years? I didn’t realize that you’d seen him in that time. I remember your mom saying that he pretty much fell off the face of the earth after his divorce.”

  “It’s like my whole life has been building up to this,” I said, taking another drink. “I’ve always had a crush on him. I mean, he’s gorgeous. But obviously, it didn’t make any sense to pursue him at the age of sixteen. Besides, he’s not a creep, he wouldn’t have ever been interested in me then.”

  “No, of course not. I’m just surprised that you’ve been pining for him all this time. Is that why you never brought any boyfriends back home?”

  “I was never into anyone at school. All the guys seemed so—I don’t know—immature.”

  Once I realized what I was saying, we both burst into laughter.

  “I guess you just have a type,” Rachel said, reaching for my empty glass. She refilled it and returned it to me.

  “I thought I would forget about him, but I didn’t. I kept myself busy with my practicing but I just couldn’t shake him for good. I was devastated when he stopped coming over for dinner. Later, I saw him at my senior recital and it gave me hope. I genuinely thought that he had finally returned to me as if he came back because I was an adult. But, he ran off again before I even had a chance to say hello. He says it’s because it was too weird, being one of mom and dad’s friends.”

  “You have to admit,” she interjected, “it is kind of weird.”

  “I know, I know. But there’s nothing I can do to make the feeling go away. I’ve tried. I didn’t have any contact with him for years and I still can’t shake him. I need him, Rachel.”

  “Then go get him,” she said. “What’s stopping you?”

  “His ex-wife, that’s what’s stopping me. I was at his house when she came back, you know. It was absolutely humiliating.”

  “I’m sorry,” she frowned. “So, what makes you think that he still has any love left for her? They’ve been divorced for a few years.”

  “He hasn’t called in four days now,” I answered, counting each miserable day in my head. “I asked him to call me when he had everything figured out and I’ve heard nothing.”

  “Oh,” she grimaced. “I can see why you’re feeling nervous.”

  “It’s been awful,” I agreed. “I have this terrible feeling that he’s going to send me a text one day that he’s decided to get back together with Grace. I just know it.”

  “Do you love him?” she asked, looking me square in the eye. “There was definitely a spark between the two of you at the funeral.”

  I nodded. “I’m absolutely sure of it.”

  She smiled smugly. “I’m glad I made him offer to give you lessons.”

  “That was you?” I gasped. “Rachel, why didn’t you say something?”

&n
bsp; “I wasn’t trying to set you up on a date or anything. I just wanted you to be able to play again. He’s the best violinist I know. Who better than to help you play again?”

  “You were right,” I said, looking down at my hands. “He’s the only person who could make me want to play. I feel so inspired when I’m with him.”

  “So why don’t you march right over to his house and tell him this?”

  “Because for all I know, he’s there with his ex-wife and kids. If it was okay for me to be there, then you know I would be in a heartbeat. What should I do? Even if he does love me, is this just a taste of what’s to come? He’s told me that he wasn’t a very good husband. He’s not even very good at having a fling with me, so it seems. Is it worth it?”

  “What does your instinct tell you?” she asked.

  I paused. The split second after she asked me that question, I imagined myself running over to his house and jumping on him. My mind flashed back to eating pancakes in his bed as he told me stories about other famous musicians.

  On the other hand, when my rational brain finally caught up to what I was being asked, it put the brakes on that whole fantasy. If Jeffrey couldn’t find a few minutes to text me within the last four days, then he just wasn’t into me like I was into him. He could go back to his wife, and somehow, I’d force myself to get over him.

  “I can’t compete with his wife, and it would be silly to try,” I answered.

  “Ex-wife,” Rachel corrected. “How can you be so sure he’s not over her?”

  “I’m not,” I said, “but I’m not going to fight him to choose me. If I should lose this battle, I want to lose with a little dignity left in me. I’m starting to think that maybe it just isn’t in the cards for me.”

  “To be with Jeffrey?”

  “To be with anyone,” I groaned. “How am I supposed to get over him?”

  “Beats me,” she said. “I think the only thing you can do to move forward is to live the best life you possibly can. If he happens to be a part of that, fine. If he doesn’t, you’re not going to miss him. Who knows, maybe you’ll exceed his success with your music. Wouldn’t it be fun to kick him out of fancy parties and deny him backstage access at the Met?”

  I laughed. “Thanks for listening. I know I’m not exactly an exciting houseguest. I don’t think I’m ever going to be that famous, but I appreciate the laugh.”

  “You’re going to be fine,” she said, getting up from her chair. “Just focus on whatever you need to do to make yourself happy. Everything will fall into place when it’s time.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I said, placing my dishes in the sink.

  “I’m always right,” she winked. “And if all else fails, I know where Jeffrey Knight lives. I can have a word with him.”

  “Do you think it would be weird for us to—you know—be together?”

  “No,” she said, and I knew it was the truth. “I know for a fact your parents would be a little shocked, but they would be happy for you. They only ever wanted you to get whatever you wanted out of life. Even if the thing you wanted was a fifty-year-old man.”

  “He’s forty-seven,” I corrected, jokingly.

  “See,” she said, “there’s that sense of humor that I love so much. Now, put on some clothes. We’re going to have a proper girls’ day out. Let’s spend all day at the beauty salon and mall. Jeffrey Knight will be sorry that he didn’t call you sooner.”

  I was starting to feel better. There was nothing else I could do. But, I knew that I couldn’t wait around forever. Not again.

  Chapter 14

  Jeffrey

  The first few moments with Grace and the kids were fantastic. It was like we were suddenly transported back to the best days of my life. I would drop the boys off at school and pick them up in the afternoon for a few hours of play before supper time. Then, with the groceries that Grace would pick up on her way home from the office, we’d make dinner together.

  Finally, after the kids went to bed, Grace and I would sip tea in the living room while we read or watched TV. It was just like how things used to be.

  Except it wasn’t. As much as our actions were the same, my feelings for Grace would forever be altered by everything she had put me through. She had taken our kids right out from under me, leaving me with nothing. She had slapped divorce papers on the table in front of me, with hardly an explanation. We screamed and raged at each other, and she made me feel dark feelings that I had never felt before. She stole the will to live, to create, from me.

  Even though we could get along now, things would never go back to the way they were. We had grown apart, and that was all there was to it.

  Admittedly, the first night she stayed over, I thought about her a lot. Just in the room next to mine, I imagined tiptoeing over to the guest room and sliding underneath the covers with her. I pictured myself running my hands all over her toned body. But, when I really thought about her in that way, it just didn’t do anything for me.

  The fact of the matter was that I wanted Susan and only Susan. She was the only one who could light the fire inside me. I craved her touch and missed her warmth in my bed. When I rolled over to her side, I could still smell her hair on the pillow. Her scent flooded my memory with passionate nights that turned into lazy mornings. She was everything that I could ever want. She was my one and only.

  I couldn’t just kick the mother of my children out on the street just because I needed sex. I knew that the second I contacted Susan, I would break the spell of responsibility and I would have to sneak away in the middle of the night to be with her. I would call her, absolutely, but I had to wait until the time was right.

  As one day turned into another, and then another, I started to become more anxious. I couldn’t stand not being able to talk to Susan. There were so many things I wanted to tell her. But, I couldn’t have her over because I still wasn’t sure how to explain to my ex and my kids who Susan was. Grace knew, but I got the feeling she didn’t approve. My kids were old enough that they would realize that she was far younger than me. I couldn’t have my kids disapproving of me, too.

  In my head, I gave Grace an ultimatum: if she didn’t find a place by the end of the week, I would tell her to go. I needed to carry on with my life and move forward. I couldn’t be with Susan if my ex-wife slept in the bed in the next room over.

  But, I was skating on thin ice. The last time I upset Grace, she took the kids across the ocean and didn’t let me speak to them. Things were finally okay between us again. I needed to think about the kids. If I pissed her off, there was no telling when I would see them next.

  All I knew was that I needed to call Susan back soon. If I didn’t, she would obviously be upset. But, if she waited for me for years, then I think she could wait for me for a few more days.

  On Friday morning, when the house was quiet again, I sat down and played the violin. Instead of sitting and stewing in all my emotions and anxieties, I put my bow to the strings and just let it all out. I played and played and about an hour later, I felt like I knew exactly what I needed to do.

  I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to talk to Grace so I could talk to Susan. I was taking a huge risk by pushing things along, but I wasn’t going to passively allow things to fall apart again. Not this time.

  After I picked up the boys from school, I let them play video games while I cleaned the kitchen and set the table. Grace texted me earlier in the day to say she was staying a little later at work, and to not wait for her to get back for supper. I replied and told her it was no big deal—I would have something ready for her when she got back.

  After making dinner for the kids and getting them ready for bed, I got started on dinner for Grace and myself. I knew that a good dinner would soften her up, so I whipped up a lasagna and found a nice bottle of Pinot Noir.

  “I’m sorry that took so long,” Grace said when she rushed into the house, dropping her bag on the kitchen counter. “Are the kids in bed?”

  “I told the
m they could read for an hour before turning the lights off,” I said.

  She smiled. “Then I won’t disturb them. Did you really cook supper?”

  “Of course. It’s a lot easier to cook for two people than it is for one. I end up eating a lot of leftovers if I cook something.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “This is just what I needed after a day like today.”

  My stomach lurched. “What did you find out?”

  “I talked with the CEO and the HR manager. Without explicitly telling them what happened, I told them that I wanted to stay in the company, but I couldn’t be in Munich for any longer. Luckily, they were pretty understanding and are allowing me to relocate.”

  “That’s great,” I said, feeling relieved that she didn’t lose her job. It would be tough to pay for the kids on my own, especially since I hadn’t really worked much in the last few years. “Are you going to try to find a place in the city?”

  She frowned, sitting down at the table. As I waited for her answer, I clumsily slopped a slice of the lasagna onto her plate.

  “I’m not sure I’m going to stay in the city either,” she responded.

  I slumped down in my chair. I had gotten my hopes up, just for her to snatch the kids away again. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I was kind to her, even though she really screwed me over. I was great with the boys and had the time to really take care of them. What more could she ask for from me?

  “Where would you go?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, rubbing her temples. “I could stay here, but I also have the option of going to Vancouver, London, or Sydney. I don’t know how I’m supposed to choose. They want to know by next week.”

  “You’re really thinking about leaving the country again?” I asked, trying not to show my concern. If she took the boys out of the country again, I don’t know what I would do. The boys were still young, so they didn’t think much about me not being around. When they got older, I knew they would feel a little disdain for me. I know I did when my father wasn’t around.