From This Moment

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by Melanie Harlow


  I straightened up in my chair, suddenly aware of the way we were leaning toward each other, our heads practically touching. “Well, I should get going.” I stood up and called to Abby. “Thanks so much for having her.”

  “Of course.” When Abby came over, Lenore tucked her beneath one arm. “We love our little Abby to pieces.”

  I nodded. “See you soon. Bye, Doc. Bye, Wes.”

  The men said goodbye, and I herded Abby up the steps and around the house to the driveway. I was backing out when I realized Lenore hadn’t asked us to stay for Sunday dinner, which she always did. Was it because she sensed something going on between Wes and me? A sweat broke out on my back.

  No. I was imagining things, wasn’t I? It had been an intense twenty-four hours and my sensory system was on overload. Paranoia was creeping in. Probably Lenore simply forgot to ask, or maybe they were just having leftovers from yesterday, or maybe since she’d hosted us the night before, she wanted a little break from company. That had to be it. And I wouldn’t have stayed anyway.

  I put it out of my head.

  Thirteen

  WES

  My dad went up to the house, and my mother dropped into the chair Hannah had vacated a moment earlier.

  “Any plans tonight?” she asked breezily.

  “No.”

  “You should get out more.” Her tone was reproachful. “You’re never going to meet anyone if you’re always hanging around the house with your family.”

  “I’m fine, Mom. I like my family. And I haven’t seen them in a while.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, dear, family is the most important thing in life, but aren’t you thinking of starting your own? After all, you’re not getting any younger.”

  I gave her a wry look. “Thanks.”

  “Why don’t you let me introduce you to someone?”

  “No.”

  “She’s so lovely.” My mother went on as if I hadn’t even spoken. “Beautiful, smart, very poised and mature.”

  “Mom. Stop.”

  “She’s the granddaughter of one of the ladies in my bridge group. I think she works for one of the big pharmaceutical companies, lots of traveling around to different doctors’ offices, that sort of thing. She even comes to Daddy’s office sometimes.”

  “Enough. I’m sure she’s great, but I’m not interested.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not looking for anyone.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Of course you are.”

  I turned and stared at her. Was she insane?

  “If you want a family, and I know that you do, then you need a wife,” she said, like it made all the sense in the world. “Maybe you’re not actively pursuing someone right now, but you don’t want to let the perfect wife slip away just because you’re not quite ready yet.”

  “Do you even hear yourself?”

  “What?” She lifted her shoulders in a who, me? shrug. “I’m just pointing out the obvious, darling. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you have to be aware of the future. You’re taking the steps one by one—coming home, taking over Daddy’s practice, buying a house. The next logical step is a wife and family.”

  I frowned. “Leave it, please.”

  “And you’re a doctor in a small town,” she went on, continuing to ignore me. “People look up to you. They have to be able to trust your judgment. You can’t run around with just any old Jane.”

  “Jesus Christ. Will you stop?” I had a long fuse, but she was nearly at the end of it.

  “I’m only trying to help, Wes.” She rubbed my arm. “I want to make sure you have the best of everything, darling. Choosing just the right person to share your life with is important. And sometimes people need help finding that person.”

  “Well, I don’t. So thank you very much for your concern, but I have enough going on without adding a relationship to the mix.”

  “What? What do you have going on?” she pressed, throwing her hands in the air. “As far as I can see, you only have work. You never see any friends, and the only grown-up you spend any time with at all besides your parents is Hannah. And I’m not certain that’s the best thing for you.”

  I leveled her with a look. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  She flashed her palms at me. “Don’t get angry, darling. I only mean that Hannah is still getting over Drew’s death. She still wears her wedding ring, bless her heart. But she’s obviously very depressed and unhappy, and I don’t think she’s a very good influence on you. Both of you need some other friends. The only friends I know of that she has is a group of widows like herself.”

  Stay calm. Remain seated. It won’t do Hannah any good to blow up at Mom. “Maybe she likes being around them because they understand what she’s going through.”

  She shrank back. “But it’s so morbid, don’t you think? Why not cultivate a group of friends based on something healthy and happy, like gardening or cards? I invited her to my bridge club a few times, but she turned me down.” Her tone and expression told me she was still peeved about it. She lowered her voice and spoke conspiratorially. “I don’t think she knows how to play. Bridge is sort of an intellectual game.”

  Was smoke coming from my ears? Felt like it. I gripped the arms of the chair I was in. “Enough about Hannah. She’s doing the best she can to recover from a sudden and unimaginable loss, to parent Abby all on her own, and I think she’s doing an amazing job. You’re being way too hard on her.”

  “Perhaps,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t mean to be. I guess I’ve simply never understood her very well. She wasn’t at all who I thought Drew would choose. What did they even have in common?”

  “They loved each other.”

  “I suppose.” Another heavy sigh. “Your brother always was a fool for a pretty girl.” She patted my arm. “I’m sorry if I upset you, darling. I only want you to be happy. What else do I have?”

  “It’s fine.” At this point, I just wanted the conversation to be over. “But no match-making, okay? I’ll find someone on my own when I’m ready.”

  “Okay, darling. I better go get dinner started.” She went up to the house, but I stayed on the beach a while longer, staring at the lake and thinking about the promise I’d made to Hannah last night.

  Don’t make promises, she’d begged. Life makes them impossible to keep.

  It hurt me to think life had treated her so harshly that she couldn’t trust me, but I understood. Life threw some pretty bad shit at you sometimes. I’d seen plenty of it in Africa—famine, disease, war, poverty. It could wear you down, make you feel hopeless, make you feel like nothing you did mattered because we were all just pawns in a larger game being played by forces way beyond our control. It made you feel small and helpless and alone.

  But you pushed forward. You kept going. Because there was beauty, too. The smile of a child you’d saved. The tearful gratitude of his parents. The people who worked beside you, sacrificing time and money and often their own health, for the greater good. And it made you appreciate things more.

  The scent of cookies baking in the oven. The sound of the waves at night. The embrace of the woman you’d always loved.

  Yes, life could be short and cruel. But we had each other, and we could spend whatever days we were afforded being happy together.

  It was the only way to fight back.

  On Monday morning, I got a call from Brad telling me my offer on the house had been accepted. I listened to his voicemail at lunch and called him back as I drove home from work.

  “Hey, Brad. Got your message. That’s great news.”

  “Yeah, congrats. You excited?”

  “Hell yes. I’m so ready to move out of my parents’ house.”

  He laughed. “I bet.”

  We talked a little about securing the mortgage and setting up a meeting to sign the papers before I asked him for a favor. “Any chance I could get a key a little early so I can show my folks the house?” The owners had already moved to Florida, so the
house was empty.

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. Want to swing by my office?”

  “Now?”

  “Sure. As long as you don’t throw a party in there or anything, you can show it off.”

  I laughed. “I’m moving there to get away from people. No parties for me.” Unless it’s a party of two.

  “I’ll be here until seven. Come on by.”

  I picked up the key from Brad and sat in the parking lot of the real estate office a moment, my phone in my hand. I was dying to call Hannah and invite her to see the house, but I didn’t want to invade her space. She’d asked for some time to think, and I wanted to honor my pledge to give it to her.

  But a phone call would be okay, right? She could always ignore it if she didn’t want to talk to me. Or maybe a text. That was better. And if she didn’t answer right away, I’d just drive home and see if my parents wanted to see the house. That’s what I’d told Brad I was doing, anyway.

  Hey, you. My offer was accepted. Want to see the house?

  I hit send and waited a moment, holding my breath. Jesus, it was like being thirteen all over again. I like you, do you like me? Check yes or no.

  My phone vibrated in my hand. She was calling me.

  “Hello?” I couldn’t keep a smile off my face.

  “Hey! Congratulations!”

  “Thanks.”

  “That’s such great news. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Now I can get out of my mother’s house.”

  She laughed. “A very good thing. I can’t wait to see it!”

  “Want to? I have a key. Brad said it would be okay to go there since the owners are already gone.”

  “Oh my gosh, I’d love to!”

  “I’ll pick you up.” I started my car, eager to see her.

  “Can Abby come too?”

  “Of course!”

  “Great. I’m so excited, Wes.”

  “Me too. See you in a few.”

  I practically sped to Hannah’s house. When I pulled into the driveway, Abby came running out, a big smile on her face. I got out and opened up the back door. “Hi, Abby. How was school?”

  “Good.” She climbed into the back seat. “Mommy’s getting me a booster seat.”

  “Ah.” I hadn’t thought about that.

  “And she said maybe we can go for ice cream after we see your new house.”

  “That sounds good. Although I haven’t eaten dinner yet. Maybe I can just have ice cream for dinner.”

  She giggled as the garage door opened and Hannah emerged with a purple booster seat. She gave me a smile that made my heart speed up. Her hair was down again, and I wished she could give me a hug so I could smell it.

  “You look nice,” she said. “I never see you in your work clothes.”

  “Thanks.” I walked over to her and took the seat. “I got this.”

  “Okay.” She got in the passenger seat while I secured Abby on the booster in the back.

  On the drive to the house, I felt ridiculously lighthearted. Just having them in my car, the fact that we were going somewhere together for the first time, made me happy. “Want the radio on?” I asked.

  “Yes! Put it on seventy-three!” said Abby.

  Hannah laughed. “She likes the forties station on satellite radio.”

  “Perfect.” I turned on the radio and found the station she wanted. Frank Sinatra’s smooth baritone filled the air.

  “I love this song,” Hannah said wistfully. “I wish popular music was still like this.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  “And you could dress up and go to a supper club on a Saturday night and dance with your sweetheart. No one dances like that anymore.”

  “You like to dance?”

  “I used to. Drew hated it.”

  “That’s probably because our mother dragged us to dance class when we were young.”

  “What?” she said, laughing. “I never heard that.”

  “It wasn’t just a dance class, actually. That was just the part we hated the most. It was more like a course on manners and behavior. Social skills. Etiquette for caveman boys.”

  “Oh my God. That’s hilarious. And you went?”

  “We had to.” I turned into the driveway, which sloped downhill toward the house.

  “And did you learn to dance?”

  “I did. And I was pretty good at it, thank you very much. The part I dreaded most was the asking. I was too shy and always scared the girl would say no.”

  “Of course you were.”

  “One time I worked up the nerve and the girl said yes. But halfway through the song, she said, ‘I’m sorry. This is just too awkward.’ And she left me there.”

  “No! The horror!” She clutched her chest. “Were you scarred for life?”

  “I was. To this day, I hate that song.”

  “What was it?”

  I shuddered. “More than Words.”

  “Oh my God, I love that song!”

  “You and everybody else but me.”

  She patted my shoulder consolingly. “I promise I will always say yes if you ask me to dance, and I will finish the song every time.” Then she gasped. “Look at your house! It’s beautiful!”

  “It needs some work, but thank you.”

  I let us in and gave them a tour, and Hannah’s enthusiastic praise for everything from the view of the lake to the high ceilings and roomy kitchen made me feel even better. Abby liked the purple and orange sponge paint in one bedroom, and was disappointed when I told her I’d probably have it repainted.

  When we finished touring the house, we walked down to the beach. Abby asked if she could take off her socks and shoes and put her feet in the water, and Hannah said it was fine, but not to get her clothes wet. We stood side by side and watched her splash around and toss stones at a giant rock sticking out of the water about fifteen feet out.

  “It’s a great house, Wes. I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks.” I glanced at her profile. My hands ached to touch her. “How are you?”

  “Good.” She gave me a shy smile. “You’re so handsome. I keep wanting to stare at you.”

  “God, Hannah. You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now.”

  She sighed. “I beg to differ.”

  But we stayed a respectable distance apart. “I missed you last night.”

  “I missed you, too. I kept wanting to call you, but then I’d talk myself out of it because I’m supposed to be taking time to think.”

  “I know. I was the same. I picked up my phone a hundred times to text you, but told myself to leave you alone.”

  “And I am thinking. But the problem is that I always wind up thinking about the sex and then I’m so distracted, I can’t even remember what else it was I was supposed to be thinking about.”

  I laughed. “I believe it was something about making sure you’re making good decisions for Abby. And for yourself.”

  “Oh, right.” She hugged herself. “Getting a little chilly, isn’t it?”

  “Are you cold?” I couldn’t help it. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders to warm her up.

  She looked up at me in surprise. “Just a little. But that feels so nice.”

  It did. So I kept my arm around her, even when Abby turned and saw us. If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. “Can we go get ice cream now?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Sit down for a minute and let your feet dry, Abs. Then we’ll brush off the sand so you can put your shoes back on.”

  “Okay.” Abby wandered about twenty feet away and perched on a cluster of boulders at the edge of the water, singing softly to herself.

  Hannah glanced up at me. “Think we’re confusing her?”

  “Maybe,” I admitted, reluctantly taking my arm from her shoulders.

  “No, put it back.” She lifted my arm and snuggled into its curve. “If she asks, I’ll tell her the truth. I was cold and you warmed me up.”

  “Okay.”


  “I’ll leave out the part where I want more then just your arm on me and I can’t stop thinking about getting you out of your nice work pants and fucking you on your new kitchen floor. Or maybe in your new shower. Or even in your backseat. My imagination isn’t being too picky.” She kept her eyes on Abby as she spoke, her voice low.

  “Christ.” I tried to adjust the crotch of my pants without letting on what I was doing. She was speaking quietly, but my dick heard every word.

  She giggled and glanced down. “Problem?”

  “Just don’t talk for a minute.”

  She laughed again. “Okay. I’ll be nice. But maybe you can come over later?”

  I hesitated. “What about Abby?”

  “She goes to bed by eight. Come at nine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” She tipped her head to my shoulder, but only for a second. “I want to be with you tonight.”

  We went for ice cream, but when Hannah heard that I hadn’t eaten dinner yet, she made me promise to come in when we got back to her house so she could feed me. My mother probably had dinner waiting for me, but I couldn’t say no to Hannah. I shot my mom a quick text.

  Don’t hold dinner for me.

  Feeling a little guilty, I added a heart emoji before getting out of the car and following Hannah and Abby inside the house. She warmed up the lemon chicken and vegetables she’d made earlier, and even poured me a glass of wine before joining me at the table with her own glass. Abby brought a little book she’d made in school to the table and read it out loud to us while I ate.

  “Wow, Abby. You’re such a good reader,” I told her. “Did you learn all that in kindergarten already?”

  “Some of it,” she said, tugging on a blond curl. “But some Mommy taught me. I already know a lot of our popcorn words.”

  “Popcorn words?”

  She giggled. “It’s not really popcorn. It’s words we use a lot.”

  “Basic sight words,” Hannah explained, taking my empty plate to the sink. “Abby is getting really good at them. Okay, kiddo, up to the bath.”

  I finished the rest of my wine and brought the glass to the sink, where Abby was loading the dishwasher. “Thanks for dinner. Delicious, as usual.”

 

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