He made a fake move for my hat, making me giggle.
“Nuh-uh. And you’re a gentleman. As such, you should respect a woman’s desire to hide a bad, bad dye job.”
His hand reached out and tipped the brim. “Who says I’m a gentleman all the time?”
Zing. Right. To. My. Girly. Parts.
Only to be interrupted by Haylee’s cheerful voice approaching from behind me. “Hey, Mark.”
She looked a cross between amused and curious, glancing between us both. I wondered how much she’d overheard.
Mark—no shocker—got awkward. “Oh, hi, Haylee. Um, I was coming by to let you know that I’m heading to the store. And see if you needed anything. Either of you.”
Now it was my turn to cock my head to the side. The one-eighty from flirtatious hunk of a guy to stuttering uncomfortable man was staggering. It was, however, completely endearing. “I’m good, but thank you.”
Haylee smiled. “I’m good, too.”
“Great. Um. Okay, then. Have a nice rest of the weekend.”
I gave him a small wave, wondering how differently things might have progressed if Haylee hadn’t been here. “You, too.”
The moment the door was closed, my friend arched her brow. It was clear she wanted details.
“What?”
She laughed while I walked back over to Tristan to get him cleaned up and down from his high chair. “I do believe that’s my question for you,” she remarked.
I shrugged. “He’s nice and evidently came by to see if I needed anything from the store.”
She met my eyes and seemed to be waiting for more. When nothing came, she relented. “I guess I was hoping there might be something to him randomly dropping by on a Sunday.”
“But I thought you said Mark didn’t, you know, date anyone.”
Now it was her turn to shrug. “He hasn’t. But never say never.”
“I, for one, think you couldn’t find more opposite people than Mark and I. The likelihood is he’s only being a nice guy and good neighbor.” He’d gone to Yale law school. I couldn’t make it through my first online math assignment.
“Are you open to dating?”
I thought back to my ideal, ‘doing it in the dark scenario’ and smiled. “I’m not sure, to be honest. The thought of getting back out there is terrifying. But if you’re asking if I’m still pining over my ex, the answer is no.”
I’d spent the last three years falling out of love with him a little more each day. However, I had no clue how to overcome the damage to my self-esteem.
“What if, instead of dating, you simply get out and meet some people? More casual, less pressure that way. I was invited to a mixer at school next Tuesday. Although spouses are invited, Josh won’t be here since it’s during the week. Even if he was in town, it’s not his thing. I think it makes him feel old to hang out with law school students.”
I laughed out loud. Josh was ten years older than Haylee. His wife was an exception when it came to maturity, but something told me other college kids probably weren’t.
“I’m not sure I’d have much in common with your fellow students, either.”
She shook her head. “And I do? I have a husband and baby. In any case, I’ve never really fit in with peers, so it would be a favor if you went with me.”
I recognized this could be an opportunity. If I went out and met people, it would help me work on the courage to exit my comfort zone. Matter of fact, this had Juliette 2.0 written all over it. “Sure, but only if I can get this mess of my hair fixed first.”
***
Huh. I didn’t look bad as a brunette. Haylee’s hairdresser had to do some serious coloring with a darker brown than I’d originally intended in order to cover the debacle. She’d then lightened it with highlights, breaking up the flat brown with blond streaks. I loved it. I wasn’t the only one, either, judging by Haylee’s reaction when I walked through her door to pick up Tristan.
“Wow, Juliette. Your hair looks awesome.”
“Thanks to you hooking me up with Molly. She was fantastic and probably charged only half of what a salon would’ve, to boot.”
“I’m glad it worked out. So, I’m heading down to New York on Thursday after school since I happen to have no classes this Friday. Natalie said she could still be available on Friday if you need her. But if you don’t, she planned to take a three-day weekend.”
As if I’d be the reason Natalie didn’t get a long weekend. “No, no. My schedule is flexible. And pretty empty. In fact, I have to beg Brian almost daily to send me work. Other than putting Mark’s files in the computer, I don’t have a lot happening.” I wasn’t ready to tell anyone I’d started online classes, especially since math had been brutal thus far.
***
The next morning I let myself into Mark’s office and started with the digital filing of his folders. It was smooth sailing now that I had everything organized, made even easier by the bar scanner I’d had them ship up from the Charlotte office.
“You have an actual scanner gun?” Mark’s voice came from the doorway.
This time I hadn’t been wearing headphones and could hear him. “Sure do. They let me borrow it from the office down in Charlotte. Makes it quicker.”
“Great. So, you got your hair fixed. It, uh, looks browner.”
An involuntary eye roll told him how I felt about his compliment. “Yeah, that’s cuz it is.”
But instead of turning red like he normally would’ve, he grinned. “Sorry, my compliments are kind of rusty. It looks nice.”
I returned his grin, trying not to read anything into his lingering gaze. “Better. Now then, why did you get weird when you realized Haylee was in my apartment the other day?”
This produced his trademark blush. I suppose part of me might feel bad, but it had been bothering me. “If you don’t want her to know we’ve become friends—at least I thought that’s what we were becoming—then I guess I get it.”
His eyes got big. “That’s not it. What kind of asshole would I be? I just—It’s that—”
I waited him out.
“I don’t want her to think anything romantic is going on. And before you get an idea my aversion to having Haylee know we hang out is about you, it isn’t. Whenever I get around any female, they all want to set me up. I realize Haylee’s intentions come from a good place, but I don’t want her getting any ideas.”
“I don’t think she has any considering when I asked what your deal was, she said you didn’t date.”
“You were asking about me?”
“Um, maybe.”
“But you’re still married.”
Now it was my turn to have my entire face heat in a rare display. “Separated, actually. Anyhow, if you need to use your office, I can come back tomorrow. Or if I’m not disturbing you, then I’ll carry on.” I couldn’t get back to scanning fast enough.
“Juliette, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. You’re not wrong. I am technically still married.”
He winced. “It wasn’t a judgment on your marital status, only a surprised reaction that you might be ready to move on. I know this entire thing can’t be easy on you. To be honest, if anything, I admire you’d be able to think about getting out there again.”
Implying, with a big neon sign, that he was not. Since I believed he was sincere, I immediately lost my irritation.
He went on. “And you’re right: we were becoming friends before I might’ve blown it twenty seconds ago. I really do apologize with the way that came out.”
“I’d be pretty hypocritical to hold regrettable blurted words against anyone. So apology accepted.”
He smiled slightly. “Any chance I could bring dinner by tonight? After all your cooking, I’d like to return the favor. Plus, no apology would be complete without an ‘I’m sorry’ pizza and brownies.”
He was adorable, plus maybe I could start my diet next Monday. “Deal.”
***
As M
ark dished up the pizza that evening, I realized things seemed casual and easier between us. Maybe there was something about this morning which had made it such. For me, I think it was that I now knew without a doubt there was no chance with him. He’d friend zoned me with a big permanent marker. It took the pressure off. And perhaps it was a sign that, until I was divorced and had put Rob and the mess which was my current life behind me, I wouldn’t be able to move on to anything more. But in my defense, could I help it if I was lonely for a man’s attention? Especially a man as nice as Mark.
“What do you think of the pizza?” he asked.
“It’s great. Tristan sure likes it.” He was already on his second piece.
“He’s going to be big. Is his dad tall?” He grimaced and then apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring him up.”
I refused to let the question bother me. “It’s okay. I have to remember my son deserves to know his father. That means I can’t take offense at innocent questions about him. And in answer to your question: Rob is six feet tall. I heard my father was over six feet. Hopefully, I didn’t dilute the gene pool with being only five foot two.”
He grinned. “You are kind of tiny.”
“Height, yes. Waistline, not so much, but is it any wonder?” I took another bite of ooey, gooey cheese pizza.
He set his slice down, frowning. “You’re not fat.”
“No, but I’m heavier than I should be. Anyhow, maybe after this stress is over, I can concentrate on working out and eating healthier. For now, I’m not depriving myself of good comfort food.”
“Speaking of the stress, does your husband remain in jail?”
Ugh. I hated thinking of Rob as my husband about as much as I loathed Mark referring to him as such. “How about we call him Tristan’s father? It makes me resent him a little less when brought up that way. And yes, he’s still in jail, although they are trying to raise bail. So that situation might not remain for long. I’m told his trial date is set for March. That seems so far away.”
“It’s pretty typical. The prosecution and defense need time to prepare their cases. Has anyone contacted you about testifying?”
“Yes. But I’ve made it clear I won’t be part of the defense. They’d like me to tell some fantasy about how he was a good father and husband. As much as it pains me, I’ll be part of the prosecution where I’ll help show the pattern of destruction started at home.”
“I’m sorry you have to go through all of this.”
I got up, needing to be busy, and brought the brownies over to the table. There I cut off a small square for Tristan. “It won’t be easy, but my only goal is to ensure he doesn’t get custody.”
“Do you think he’d go after him?”
“Maybe. To punish me. Who knows? But it’ll be a cold day in hell before I’d let him near my baby. Not with the lifestyle he’s adopted, which includes dealing drugs. Anyhow, um, if you’re interested, we have Inside Out tonight for our movie.”
He took the hint in my subject change. “It sounds like a horror film.”
I giggled, happy for the distraction. “I never considered that, from the perspective of the title. It’s not horror but cute and Disney. But if you want to pass, I understand.”
“I’m down with movie night. Shall we, Tristan?”
I watched as Mark unbuckled him from of his chair and lifted him up, afterward taking him to the living room. While I cleaned up Tristan’s chair, I saw my laughing boy completely mesmerized by Mark while he was down on the ground learning the names of his trains. I realized how important it was for my son to have positive male influences in his life. I might try to be all things to him, but at the end of the day, he needed to have men to look up to, as well.
“Okay, movie time.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Although I might miss home, I certainly was keeping busy. Math continued to give me trouble, but I’d made a perfect score on my first English assignment. Perhaps these were only online courses, but they meant I had taken the first step towards bettering myself.
On Wednesday Haylee came over for dinner where I taught her how to make chicken-fried steak and my mom’s gravy. Then after her classes on Thursday, I dropped her and her daughter off at the train station to travel down to New York to see Josh. Haylee was so excited that I knew her decision to transfer to a closer law school would be the right one for her family.
All in all, I’d thought it had been a great week until later that night when Tristan fell ill with a fever of one hundred and two degrees. Everything he’d eaten for dinner made its way out of both ends making me thankful he was still in diapers. Meanwhile, I hoped he hadn’t passed it on to Haylee’s baby. Fevers and stomach bugs were scary enough with two-year-olds, but with babies, well, it was even worse.
I texted to give her a warning and settled in for the long night ahead of me. Thankfully, this wasn’t my first rodeo. The initial panic when I’d been a new mom during his first year had been replaced by experience. I knew what to do, and my stomach was prepared now for the horrors of cleaning up after him.
Motrin to bring down his temp, a tepid bath, and a little bit of apple juice later, and he was asleep in bed with me. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before he awoke again, throwing up what little he had left in his tummy. A changed bed, clothes, and a cleanup later, he was back asleep. While he lay back in my bed, I hurried to put the dirty sheets in the wash. I only had two sets, which meant I needed to ensure one was on standby.
Everything was a blur as Thursday night bled into the next day, and I tried everything to keep him hydrated. By Friday afternoon, however, his fever seemed to have broken. His little chubby cheeks were back to peach instead of red, and his eyes appeared clearer. I was grateful this seemed to be a limited, twenty-four-hour bug.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I snuggled him close. “Are you hungry, baby?”
“Yes. Waffles, pease.”
“Waffles for lunch sounds good. And you need to take a bath.” In addition, I needed to wash everything he’d touched and hope to God I wouldn’t come down with his virus.
By the time I’d put waffles on a plate for Tristan and poured his juice, mixing it with water, my stomach served notice. It was too late.
Having a sick kid was scary. Being sick when your kid was starting to feel better was pure torture.
Realizing I was on borrowed time before it hit me fully, I stripped both our beds, ran his bath, and started a load of wash. Next I put him in the bath, then cleaned the kitchen and vacuumed. But before long, I was on the couch and curled in a blanket, trying to warm myself from the chills which threatened to take over.
In the meantime, Tristan acted like his normal toddler self, watching cartoons, sucking down his sippy cup, and chomping on Cheerios.
“Mama, play. Play.”
“Give me a minute, buddy.” I got up and puttered to the kitchen in search of some adult Tylenol, wishing I had some. Something told me it would be a long night.
The knock at the door surprised me, but not as much as Tristan running towards it in an excited way.
“Mark, Mark?” my son asked. Evidently Mark had made quite the impression on Tristan.
“Uh, I don’t know yet.” Glimpsing out the peephole, I saw that, sure enough, it was Mark. “Back up a little and no hugs or kisses yet. We don’t want to spread germs. Okay?”
“’Kay.”
He had no idea what I was saying, so I kept a hold of his hand to keep him contained.
“Hey,” Mark greeted when I opened the door. He immediately glanced down towards Tristan and then back up at me, his expression looking concerned. “You guys okay?”
I felt like a complete scrub. But the man had already witnessed me embarrass myself verbally. That he should now view my less-than-flattering appearance was just icing on the cake.
“Yeah, but don’t come any closer. Tristan is on the up side, but I think my battle with this nasty virus is only beginning.”
“You don’t look good. At
all.”
It was official. Maybe I had in fact hit rock bottom. Had I even managed to brush my hair today? I didn’t think so. The thought had me giggling, bordering on hysteria.
His face turned pink and as always it was adorable. He was probably trying to figure out whether to back away slowly from the crazy girl or pat me on the head and say, ‘bless her heart.’
“I didn’t mean—You know what? I only meant you look as though you’re sick.”
I gave him a lopsided grin. “I know. I just lost my grip on sanity for a moment. Now go save yourself and move far away from this hazmat situation.”
Tristan tugged at my hand. “I wanna play with Mark.”
“I know, sweetie, but maybe some other time when we’re both feeling better.”
“How about I come in and entertain him, and you can take a nap?”
My face must’ve betrayed the deep desire to fall into bed before my mind could intervene. “No, no. I couldn’t ask you to. You’ll get sick.”
He was already entering my apartment and taking Tristan’s hand. “If I get sick, then you can return the favor by waiting on me. But for now, you need a break, Jules.”
It could be the fever, but the image of ‘waiting on him’ suddenly popped in my mind in the form of a slutty nurse’s outfit and giving him a sponge bath in a very naughty way. Add to that he’d called me Jules, and I was standing there a bit stunned. One minute I was wondering how I’d manage tonight, then the next my handsome neighbor tells me to take a nap as he leads my son over to his Legos to keep him entertained.
“I can’t ask you to do this.” My voice caught on the last word, and tears welled up at the unexpected kindness.
He dumped the bag of Legos and ruffled Tristan’s hair. “Hold tight, bud, while I get your mom settled.” He turned toward me.
My eyes got big when his hand felt my forehead.
“Jesus, you’re burning up. Do you think you have the flu?”
“Tristan’s only lasted twenty-four hours, so it’s mild if it’s the flu.”
“Did you take something for the fever?” His hand trailed down to the side of my face in an intimate gesture.
Show Me Something Page 6