Unconditional

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Unconditional Page 23

by Linda Rettstatt


  “I’m sorry. You don’t know me from Adam.”

  “It’s just… I’m coming out of a really difficult break-up. I have a baby to raise and a practice to maintain. I don’t have much free time.”

  “Practice? Doctor or lawyer?”

  “Therapist.”

  He cocked his head to one side. “Really? I teach psychology at Pitt.”

  “You’re kidding. I graduated from Pitt. Well, I’m sure you weren’t teaching then.”

  He flashed a generous smile and a pair of irresistible dimples deepened at the corners of his mouth. “See, we have something in common. How about familiar territory? Meet me for coffee on campus. We can talk shop.”

  “Is that fast food place still in the basement of the Cathedral of Learning? God, it’s a wonder I wasn’t dead by the time I graduated. My cholesterol should be through the roof.”

  “That place is history. Now we have Starbuck’s.”

  “Ah, progress. Tell you what. Give me a phone number. I’ll think about it.” I removed a business card and pen from my purse and handed them to him.

  David jotted down his office and cell numbers and an email address. “My brother’s a cop. I can have him run a background check on me, if you want. Have it sent to your office.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest? And how do I know he wouldn’t avoid including the incriminating stuff?”

  “Are you kidding? Preston’s been pointing his finger and blaming me since we were both old enough to walk. He’d love nothing more than to dish out the dirt.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “There’s dirt?”

  He looked down at the mud now drying on his shorts. “I can’t seem to avoid it.”

  His fingers grazed mine as he handed me the card. This time I knew the shock I felt was not static electricity, but I tried to ignore it. Was I crazy? I did not have the time or energy for a relationship. Not to mention the fact that, technically, I was still married. But he was so hot. And he was much closer to my age than the frat boys in the bar.

  “I’ll call,” I heard myself say.

  “Promise?”

  “No, but I’ll seriously think about it.” Ryan broke into his ‘I need a nap now’ cry. “I’ve got to go.” I tucked the card into my purse.

  “Nice meeting you, Meg,” David called after me.

  I offered a backward wave of my fingers as I pushed the stroller toward the parking lot. I felt giddy. Had I been flirting back there? I was. I was flirting, and with my infant son right in front of me. Does that make me a bad mother?

  I smiled. It made me human. I was past believing things would work out between Thomas and me. I’d accepted his lifestyle as much as I was able. We’d fallen into an easy rhythm of co-parenting. I’d managed quite well on my own with the baby. But it still got lonely, though most days I was too tired to care. Maybe it was time to take a step forward.

  ~ * ~

  That evening after I settled Ryan in his crib, I sat at the computer to catch up on email. I glanced at my purse across the room and got up to fetch it from the chair. Disappointment washed through me when I couldn’t find the card bearing David’s phone numbers. I cleared my purse, item by item, locating my spare keys, Ryan’s binky that I thought I’d lost, and…a business card. I flipped it over. My realtor’s card. “Damn.” I dove back in and dug around the bottom, then I searched the small zippered pocket. Success.

  I removed the card and stared at the phone numbers and email address jotted on the back. It was only an invitation for coffee, I reminded myself. So why did I feel as though I’d been asked to the prom? He did seem to be very nice, and he was certainly easy on the eyes. Anticipation fluttered in my chest as though I’d swallowed a moth. I should wait. Otherwise I may seem too eager. Eager for what, though? Coffee? I was being juvenile.

  I carried the card to the desk and opened a new message box in my email. I typed in David’s email moniker: psychprof? I smiled. That could be misinterpreted. I composed a message, erased it, and started over. I finally settled on telling him I hoped he was okay after his spill in the lake and that I’d let him know about coffee after I checked my schedule at the office the following day. The truth was, I already knew my schedule. But I wanted to give myself time to come down from my hormonal high.

  I hit send.

  Five minutes letter, a ping told me I had a new message.

  Meg, I’m fine. I consider today part of my training for a triathlon—biking, swimming, and running. I’m sorry I scared you. I’ll make it up to you when you find time for coffee. Or we could meet at the park again next weekend. I promise to leave the bike at home. David

  I smiled. He had a sense of humor. He didn’t take himself too seriously. A stroll through the park the next Saturday could be a good way to get acquainted. I set my fingers onto the computer keys to compose my reply. I hesitated. Slow down, I told myself. You can reply tomorrow.

  I shut down the computer and went to the kitchen for a soda. Then I settled in front of the TV. Ten minutes into the movie, a steamy lovemaking scene stirred up feelings I’d managed to hold at bay. I should have switched the channel, but I was mesmerized. God, had it been so long that sex seemed like something foreign to me?

  The phone rang and I startled as if I’d been caught watching porn, which wasn’t much of a stretch. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Meg.”

  “Oh, Audrey. What’s up?”

  “You okay? You sound strange. Out of breath.”

  “I was just…uh… I was in the basement. Doing a load of wash.”

  “At this hour? I’m calling about our Memorial Day plans. Are you still on for the cookout with Julian and me?”

  “I am. It’ll be fun.”

  “Great. By the way, are you free this coming Saturday evening? I have tickets to a show at the Benedum, and Julian isn’t available. Don’t worry, it’s not opera.”

  “Saturday? Uh…I may have plans, but I’m not sure yet.”

  “Are you going out?”

  “Maybe for the afternoon. What time is the show?”

  “Who are you going out with?”

  I sighed. I should have kept my mouth shut. “Just meeting a friend at North Park. I should be free in the evening. I’ll see if Shay can stay with Ryan.”

  “Who’s the friend?”

  She was not going to let it go. And it was my own fault. I was getting back exactly what I’d given. “His name is David O’Neill. He’s a…colleague. He teaches psychology at Pitt.”

  “Where’d you meet?”

  I heard amusement in her voice. She was enjoying this inquisition way too much.

  “In North Park.”

  “So, is there potential with David?”

  “Potential? I’m sure he has potential. He’s smart, has a good sense of humor…”

  “And?”

  I chuckled. “Okay, okay. You’ve had your fun. He’s a nice guy and wants to meet for coffee or for a walk in the park. I’m opting for the walk in the park because I can take Ryan with me.”

  “Oh, no. I’ll come over on Saturday and take care of my nephew. You go and meet the guy in the park. When you get home, we can go to the theater, if Shay can babysit. I’ll even pay her.”

  The cautious voice in my head ran a replay of David in his wet clothing and the steamy scene I’d watched earlier on TV, then said, ‘Step away from the man.’ But the other voice that rose from somewhere other than my head said, ‘It’s a public park. What can possibly happen?’ “Okay, you win. I’ll call Shay.”

  “Great. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight.”

  I hung up and then pressed in Shay’s number. “Shay?”

  “Hey, girlfriend.”

  “Hi. I have a favor to ask.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Can you babysit Ryan on Saturday evening? Audrey has theater tickets.”

  “Saturday? Sure. I’ll come over there so I can put him to bed and you won’t have to move him. That way yo
u can stay out as late as you want.”

  “You don’t need to check with Maurice first? What if he has plans?”

  Shay laughed. “His Saturday night plans usually involve pizza, beer, and the remote. He won’t miss me, and if he does, I’m right next door. It won’t kill him to walk across the yard. Just let me know what time.”

  “Will do. Thanks so much. When you have the baby, I will owe you years of babysitting time.” I paused, then added, “I sort of have a date Saturday afternoon. Audrey’s coming early to take care of Ryan.”

  Shay screamed and I held the phone away from ear. “Yes! You go, girl. I want to hear all about this man.”

  I told her about meeting David and what little I knew about him.

  “That’s smart, a walk in the park. A public place where you can talk and get to know more about him.”

  “I originally chose the park because I’d planned to take Ryan with me. But Audrey nixed that idea.”

  “Good. You need adult time, girlfriend. I’m glad you’re going to meet him.”

  She was right. I did need adult time. I was surprised I hadn’t started talking baby talk to my patients. And the other kind of adult time wouldn’t hurt, either. I flushed at the thought. “Thanks, Shay. I’d better get some sleep. Ryan will be awake for a feeding soon.”

  “Get some rest this week. You’ll need your strength for Saturday.”

  “I’m only going for a walk in the park.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, hopefully that leads to a romp in the dark.”

  “Shay!”

  “Oh, don’t sound so surprised. It’s time for you to get yourself back out there.”

  “One step at a time. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  I couldn’t seem to wipe the smile from my face. Okay, so I didn’t really try. The anticipation of spending the following Saturday afternoon with David made me feel like a teenager again. It also made me feel like a woman. A possibly desirable woman.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Are these jeans too tight?” I asked as I twisted around to view my backside in the mirror.

  Audrey rolled her eyes. “For the third time, you look fine. Are you procrastinating?”

  “No. I just want to make sure I look…decent. I think I held onto a few of those baby pounds.”

  “In your dreams. You look fantastic. Now, get going before David thinks you’ve stood him up.” She gave me a shove toward the bedroom door.

  “I have my cell with me in case you need me. Or in case I need you, so keep your phone on.” I tiptoed across the hall and checked on Ryan. He lay, sprawled out in his crib for a nap, drool puddling under his cheek.

  Audrey whispered, “We’ll be fine, and so will you.” She followed me to the front door, giving me a gentle nudge out. “And don’t worry about the theater if you get a better offer. That show will be here another time. Bye.” She closed the door.

  I slid behind the wheel of the Lexus and checked my face in the rearview mirror. Am I wearing too much makeup for a walk in the park? I turned the key in the ignition and backed the car from my driveway. As I crossed town and picked up I-279, giddiness bubbled inside. I was moving forward, toward something. Not that I thought David was my future. But for today he was my immediate future—the first step into my new life as a single woman. Almost.

  I parked near the boat house where we had agreed to meet and glanced at my watch. I was ten minutes late. I scanned the parking lot for David when a tap on my window startled me.

  “Are you having second thoughts?” David smiled beneath a pair of polarized Oakleys. In those shades, he looked more like a cop.

  I dislodged the key from the ignition and swung the door open. “Hi. Sorry I’m late.”

  “Not a problem. I thought perhaps you were talking yourself out of our date.”

  “Looking forward to it. Just let me lock my purse in the trunk.” I reached down to pop the trunk, then slid past him and tossed my purse inside, slamming the lid shut. “All set.”

  “Are you up for a three mile hike?”

  “Sounds awesome. Let’s go.”

  We walked the trail at a leisurely pace. David’s first question for me was about Ryan, which scored him points. I talked about myself and my family until we reached the halfway point, then I turned the tables. “Your turn. Who is David O’Neill?”

  He stopped walking and stared out at the lake. “David O’Neill. Age thirty-six, single, gainfully employed. Wanted to be a rock star, but ended up teaching psychology. Son of Patrick and Brigid O’Neill. One brother, Preston, a county police detective.”

  I laughed. “A rock star? Really?”

  He squinted in the sun. “Really. I used to play a mean bass.”

  He resumed walking and I fell into step beside him. “Why did you quit?”

  “I grew up.”

  I linked my hands behind me as I walked. “Does growing up mean you have to let go of your dreams?”

  “Are you analyzing me?”

  “Not at all. It’s a question I’ve asked myself a time or two.”

  “What’s your unrealized dream?”

  “Not anything so glamorous. A house, a couple of kids…and a husband, of course. I was just about there.”

  He walked along in silence.

  I slid a glance up at him. “I hope I didn’t scare you. I’m not on the hunt here.”

  He stopped moving and peered at me over his shades. “Takes more than that to scare me. And it sounds like a nice dream.”

  “One I almost had. I’ve realized part of it.”

  “Want to tell me what happened?” he asked, moving forward onto the path once more.

  I paused, then said, “Irreconcilable differences.” Boy, talk about an understatement.

  “Hmm…the vague catch-all grounds for divorce. I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too. Now he lives in our house with his…with someone else.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah, I couldn’t have lived in the house after we split. I found out I was pregnant a few weeks after we separated.” Our elbows touched, and an electric shock reverberated along my arm. I stepped sideways to gain distance. “I went through all the hurt, anger, denial, and doubt stages. No room for bargaining. I’ve counseled other couples through all kinds of marital discord, but getting myself to a point of acceptance was quite a challenge.”

  “We therapists are our own worst patients, aren’t we? Want to sit?”

  I nodded and followed him to a green slatted bench. “I started attending funerals.” What is wrong with me, blurting out all my secrets? I tried to imagine a giant hand clamping over my mouth.

  “You…what?”

  I chuckled. “I was sure I was onto a new form of grief therapy—go to funerals of people you don’t know and cry out your own grief. You don’t burden your friends or family, and no one questions a tearful woman at a graveside.”

  “Did it help?”

  “A little.” The imaginary hand fell away from my face. “Then my mother came to visit and reminded me that she used to go to funerals all the time when I was growing up. I never questioned it, just thought we had a really big extended family with a short life expectancy.”

  “So it’s a family tradition?”

  I laughed. “I suppose. I stopped going to funerals during my pregnancy. I figured all that sadness wasn’t good for Ryan.”

  “He’s a cute baby. I wish you’d brought him with you today.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “You do?”

  “Yeah. I love kids.”

  Ten more points. I stood. “We should keep moving. I need to get home in time to change for the theater.”

  He rose and fell into step with me, hands shoved into the pockets of his well-fitted jeans. “Big date?”

  “Hardly. My sister, Audrey. I’m just grateful it’s not the opera.”

  He winced. “Oh. I did that once. Never again.”

  When we reached the parking lot, I felt around my pockets, but my hands came out empty. “Oh, n
o. My car keys. I would have sworn I…” My gaze drifted to the closed trunk. “Uh-oh.”

  “Problem?”

  “You could say that. I put my purse in the trunk before we left. My keys are in the purse.”

  “Are the doors locked?” he asked, trying the driver’s door.

  “Yep. I’ll call Audrey. She can bring my spare keys.” I gazed again at the tightly-sealed trunk that also held my cell phone hostage. “Do you have a cell phone I can use?”

  He chuckled. “Let me guess, yours is in your purse in the trunk.”

  “You’re quick.”

  He jingled his car keys in his hand. “Tell you what—I’ll take you home to get your spare keys, then bring you back for the car.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  “You didn’t. I offered.”

  I shifted my gaze from my securely locked car to David’s Jeep Compass. A Jeep? Does a man’s man really drive a Jeep Compass? Poor choice of words though. My husband was, apparently, a man’s man. Where is that damn checklist when I need it? “If you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all.” He opened the passenger’s door. “Get in.”

  We crossed the bridge and headed toward Oakland. I directed him through the side streets to my house. We sat in the Jeep for a moment, and I saw Audrey peer out my window.

  “Do you want me to wait here, or shall I come in?” David asked.

  “Come inside. Maybe Audrey and I can pick up the car later. Besides, Ryan’s probably awake, so you can see him.” I reached for the door handle, but he was out of the Jeep and opening my door in a flash.

  “This is a nice neighborhood,” he said.

  “I like it. Far enough off the main street and away from the university to be quiet, yet close enough to get into the city in a few minutes.” I approached the front door then realized I couldn’t let myself in, so I rang the doorbell.

  Audrey swung the door open with Ryan balanced on her left hip. She glanced at David, then shot me a curious look. “Where’s your car?”

  I ushered David in behind me. “I locked my keys in the trunk. This is David O’Neill. He was good enough to bring me back to get my spare set. They’re in the bedroom. I’ll be right back.” I started down the hall, then stopped and turned. “Oh, this is my sister, Audrey. And you’ve met Ryan.”

 

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