“So whatcha been up to?” she suddenly asked, shoving her hair behind her ear.
“Finishing the upstairs, mostly. Um...sorry about the sander the other day, thing makes a god-awful racket—”
“No, it’s okay. I took Aislin over to Lynn’s, we had lunch.”
“Oh. Good.” Matt coughed into his gloved hand. “How’s Lynn doing?”
Her shoulders bumped. “Who knows? I mean, on the surface, sure, she’s fine. But women—” a damp breeze shunted down the block; Kelly hiked up her hood around her neck “—we’re pretty good at hiding our pain. Because God forbid we worry anybody, right?”
Matt thought of the Colonel, who’d barely mentioned his wife for more than a year after her death. Of how Matt’s refusal to admit how badly the divorce had shaken him had nearly cost him his job. How he still fought talking about it. “You think only women do that?”
Her eyes cut to the side of his face before facing front again. “You’re right. That was unfair.” A puff of air crystallized in front of her face. Ahead of them, kids and dog stopped to cross the empty street, Coop grabbing his sister’s hand even as he straddled the bike. Matt could feel Kelly relax—as much as she probably ever did, anyway—before saying, “I have clearly spent way too much time inside my own head.”
“Yeah. I know how that goes.” He paused, then said, “Look, I stayed out of your way because I thought that’s what you wanted. What you still want, for all I know. But...if you’d like somebody to talk to, to get out of your head, I’m a good listener.” He smiled. “Ask Bree, she nearly talked me to death when we were kids. Until she found you. And...what was his name? That nerdy guy you two hung out with?”
Kelly laughed. “Cole Rayburn. Oh, my gosh, I haven’t thought of him in years. Is he still around?”
“Cole, right. And I have no idea. Anyway...Bree didn’t confide in me so much after that. At first I was relieved. But then I realized how much I missed...her trust.” He paused. “I know a lot of people. And I’ve got family coming out of my ears. But I don’t have many friends. Real friends, I mean. Not sure how that happened.”
“I know what you mean,” she said after a moment. “Weird, huh?”
“Very.”
They reached the small park at the end of the block, the rays from the setting sun gilding the lifeless winter grass, the bare-limbed trees. Kids and dog took off toward the playground, where Coop dumped the bike in the grass. Matt led Kelly to a west-facing bench nearby, plopping right down on the gouged wood. Kelly, however, made a face, then stripped off one glove to test the seat—making sure it was dry, he assumed—before joining him. Tongue lolling, Alf plodded over and crashed beside them.
With a soft laugh Kelly bent to pat the dog’s back, then sat up again and crossed her arms. “I wasn’t much of a confider. At least, not then.” Her lips curved. “Bree did enough of that for both of us. Then I grew up and there really wasn’t anybody to talk to. Even when I wanted to.”
Matt studied the side of her face. “Meaning, your husband?”
“Yeah.”
“Thought you said—”
“Controlling isn’t the same as protecting,” she said quietly, smiling when Aislin yelled, “Look at me, Mama!” from the top of a slide barely as tall as her brother. Kelly waved, then sighed. “Only then I didn’t know the difference. And by the time I finally woke up, we already had a kid.”
“A kid?”
Another smile flitted across her lips. “Linnie is more precious to me than my own life, but the circumstances surrounding her...happening weren’t exactly fortuitous. I’ll spare you the details,” she said with a sad twist to her mouth, “but when I realized I was pregnant—and after I got over being shocked, and yes, angry—” she pulled a cuffed hat out of her pocket, yanked it down over her head “—I convinced myself that our focusing on this new little blessing would rejuvenate our marriage.” More mouth twisting. “Wrong. Looking back... Even a year before Rick actually lost his job, he was struggling. Business was down, so his sales were off. Not his fault, but he didn’t see it that way. And it’s next to impossible to love someone else when your own self-esteem is in the toilet.”
Matt sat back as her words sank in. Because despite what she’d said about her own self-confidence struggle, it was obvious how much Kelly loved those kids.
Like she’d read his mind, she said, “When I was pregnant with Coop, I was petrified. That I’d screw up, or wouldn’t be able to live up to your mother’s stellar example. Ironically, Rick was thrilled. Because at that point, everything was going exactly as he’d planned it out. When his world—our world—fell apart, so did he...and I finally learned how to fly. Or at least flutter from tree to tree. Before that, though...”
She looked at Matt. “The fears didn’t automatically vanish the first time I held Coop. But the love...” Blinking, she faced the playground again. “That love... It was so much stronger than I was. Almost...a presence, a...a conviction that didn’t come from some limited, precarious place inside me, but from something, or some place, far bigger than I could even comprehend. And I somehow knew that presence or whatever it was would carry me through, and over, my own fears.” She let out a soft, shaky laugh and said, “And now you probably think I’m bonkers for sure.”
“Not hardly,” he said at last, then twisted to lean one elbow on the bench back’s top, watching the breeze toy with her hair. “You ever say that to your husband?”
“No,” she sighed out. “Or anybody else, for that matter. Because I couldn’t’ve put those feelings into words if I’d tried. Not then. And by the time I did, I knew Rick wouldn’t understand. And I didn’t want to put a wedge between us.”
“By being honest?”
She sort of laughed. “Yeah.”
“A problem you clearly don’t have with me.”
There was a pause, then she said quietly, “I don’t have anything to lose with you. If you think I’m nuts—” she shrugged “—no biggie.”
For the moment, Matt let that go. The biggie was that she’d trusted him with something she hadn’t told the man she’d wanted to hold on to so badly; she’d shielded him from who she really was. He could only hope she’d eventually realize how bass-ackward that was.
Even as the voice said, Your turn, bub, and he squelched a sigh.
He knew how doubtful it was that anything would happen between them, no matter what he said or did. Or even if it was right. Maybe he finally felt ready to break free of all the crap clogging his brain about Marcia and his marriage, but for more than that? He wasn’t sure, to be honest. He did know, however, that you couldn’t force things to work out.
And, boy, how.
But sometimes all you could do was take that first step and not worry about what came next.
“Okay,” he said, sitting forward again with his hands linked between his knees. “Fair exchange, since I never told anybody this, either...but after my divorce, after I’d turned myself inside out trying to become whatever the hell Marcia thought I was supposed to be, after a year of thinking I’d failed—” he faced Kelly’s slight frown “—I found out she’d been cheating on me practically the whole time we’d been married.”
“Oh, Matt,” Kelly breathed out. “Seriously?”
“Swear to God.”
“And you really never told anyone else? Not even Bree?”
“I think Bree suspects. But oddly enough she’s never pried, and I certainly never volunteered the information. Because knowing Bree, she would’ve hunted Marcia down and ripped her hair out,” he said, and Kelly snorted. “Anyway...that’s why I worked all those extra hours. To keep myself from thinking about what a damn fool I’d been.”
“And why on earth would you think that?”
Matt felt his mouth pull tight. “Maybe I misread her signals, I don’t know...but I’d gotten t
he feeling she wanted to feel wanted. So that’s what I did. The flowers, the gifts, the whole nine yards. And at first, it seemed to work. She certainly acted flattered, anyway. And I like doing stuff for people, you know?”
“So I noticed,” Kelly said, a smile in her voice.
He sighed. “Except I guess... Well. After we’d been married for a while, she said I was crowding her. Although I’m now thinking she meant that as in, three’s a crowd. And I was number three.” He sat up straight again, his gaze fixed on the play area. “There’s one mistake I’ll never make again. Being there for someone, sure. That’s just me. But next time—if there ever is a next time—it’s both parties meeting halfway or nothing. My pushing days are over.”
Kelly was quiet for a moment, then reached over to slip her gloved hand into his. When he gave her a startled look, she said, “Whatever. She was the fool. Not you. And right now? I wouldn’t mind doing a little hair pulling myself.”
Then, their hands still linked, she faced the kids again, her face glowing in the last, brilliant rays of the setting sun. And although both sun and hand disappeared a moment later, Matt figured he’d be glowing, too, for some time to come.
Why, he’d figure out later.
* * *
Going to the park had been fine, Cooper thought as he biked behind the grown-ups, Aislin clinging to Matt’s back like a little monkey. Chattering like one, too. Gosh, he remembered when she couldn’t even talk. Now she never shut up, unless she was asleep.
But, anyway, it’d been fun and all, while they were there. But now things felt...strange. ’Course, it always felt strange this time of day, not dark but not light anymore, either. Except he knew the time of day had nothing to do with how he was feeling, but seeing his Mom and Matt holding hands...what did it mean?
Because if Mom and Matt decided they liked each other and stuff, that’d be another change, when things had barely started to feel normal again. Except... Going back to school had been a really big change, too, and that was going okay, right? And he liked their new place, and Matt’s family, and, well, Matt. But he didn’t know Matt. Not well enough to think of him like a dad, anyway, a thought that made his heart start thumping like crazy.
He supposed he could ask Mom what was going on, but grown-ups weren’t always real good at telling the truth.
Like how Mom had pretended for so long that everything was okay between her and Dad when even as a little kid, Coop had known it wasn’t. So did it work the same way in reverse? That they’d pretend nothing was going on and then one day suddenly say, “Hey, we’re getting married?” Just like his mother had said, “Hey, we’re getting divorced?” Okay, she hadn’t said it like that, but whatever.
Of course, there was stuff Coop still hadn’t told Mom, either. Stuff maybe he’d never tell her. But that was different, because—
“Coop? Wanna talk to Grandma?” He jerked to attention to see Mom holding out her phone. Wow. He’d been thinking so hard he hadn’t even heard it ring.
“Hi, Grandma,” he said, as he put the bike out back then went inside the apartment. Where Matt was, too, he noticed.
“How are you doing, sweetheart?”
“Okay. We went to the park with Alf.”
“Alf...? Oh, Matt’s dog?”
“Yeah.” Leaving the others in the living room, Coop went down the hall to his room—it was kinda small, but at least it was all his—and shut the door. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course, honey, you can tell me anything.”
Coop looked over at the finished LEGO set, up high on a shelf where Linnie couldn’t get it. “I saw Matt and Mom holding hands.”
“I see.” Grandma got quiet for a moment, like she was thinking. “And did that bother you?”
Coop stretched out on his bed, frowning up at the star stickers Mom had put on the ceiling before he’d had a chance to tell her he was too big for that sort of thing now. “Doesn’t it bother you?”
“Oh, honey... People touch each other—like holding hands—for a lot of reasons. You...could be reading something into it that’s not there.”
“And what if I’m not?”
He heard her blow out a breath. “Okay. I love your mother. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“And your father, may he rest in peace—he put her, he put all of us, through a lot, those last few years.” She paused and said softly, “Including you. Right?”
Coop’s chest got all tight feeling, but he nodded. Then he remembered Grandma couldn’t see him. “I guess.”
“Yeah, well, I know. It was awful, and I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t. And Matt...” He heard her sigh. “Honey, listen to me. I only met him the one time, when I wasn’t exactly in a good place. But even then I was impressed that he came all the way out here to your father’s funeral so your mom didn’t have to deal with it by herself. That’s a good man, sweetheart. A nice guy. And you know what? Your mother could maybe use a nice guy in her life. And so could you and your sister.”
“But it’s not right! Dad just died!”
Coop jerked. What the heck? Why should that even matter, especially considering what all else he felt...?
“Except,” Grandma said, real quietly, “aside from the fact that your mom and dad hadn’t been married for a while by then, if you think about it...the daddy you remember from when you were little left us a long time ago. Do...do you understand what I’m saying?”
Tears stinging his eyes, Coop nodded. Because hadn’t he said exactly that to Mom, the day of Dad’s funeral? “Y-yeah.”
“Aw, sweetheart... I didn’t mean to make you cry. But you know something? I’d like to think your dad’s free now. From whatever scared him so much. The thing is, though...so are you. Free, I mean. Your mom, too. Look, I’m not there, I have no idea what’s going on between Matt and your mom. Could be nothing, for all I know. For all you know. But there’s good things waiting for you, I promise. So promise me you’ll keep your heart open so you don’t miss them. Will you do that for me?”
Coop sucked in a breath that shook his whole body, then nodded. “I’ll t-try.”
“No. Promise.”
He sort of smiled. “Okay. I promise.”
“Good boy,” Grandma said. “By the way, did your mom tell you? I’m picking you and Linnie up on Friday to spend the whole weekend with me. And to see your new apartment. So make sure your room’s clean, kiddo.”
“I will. I love you.”
“Love you, too, baby. See you soon!”
Cooper ended the call, then sat on his bed, frowning. And wishing he could wind his life back to when he was four or something, when everything felt so much simpler.
* * *
Giving the spaghetti sauce a quick stir, Kelly smiled at her daughter’s belly laugh in the living room, where Matt—back against the sofa, his legs stretched in front of him—had turned the kids’ army of stuffed toys, led by General Rainbow Monkey, into a production worthy of Steven Spielberg. Voices and all. And the drama... Oh, my gosh. Clearly those Russian novels had left an impression.
The same way Matt, despite her druthers, was making an impression in her life. Her heart. Weak as water, those druthers. It made no sense. How could she feel this threatened by someone so utterly nonthreatening? It was like being scared of the Easter Bunny. If the Easter Bunny had dreamy dark eyes and dimples that would not quit and a laugh that made her womb weep.
Then again, clearly Matt’s ex had felt threatened, too. By what? His love and goodness and generosity...?
Coop slogged into the kitchen to hand back her phone, looking far too emo for an eight-year-old. Or anyone, for that matter.
“What on earth did Grandma say to you?”
Her child shot her A Look, then released a breath. “Nothing,” he said with a shrug,
and it was everything Kelly could do not to grab the front of his hoodie and intimidate him with the dripping spaghetti sauce spoon until he ’fessed up. But all she’d get for her efforts, probably, was a sauce-stained hoodie, so she restrained herself.
Restraint, she thought, her gaze drifting to Matt again, now prone on his back, laughing, as her growling daughter attacked him with that monkey. A word—restraint, not monkey—Kelly needed to brand onto her brain while she still remembered the concept. And before her womb broke down altogether.
However, her womb did not call the shots. So as much as part of her might like to cradle Matt’s head to her paltry bosom and make soothing, shushing noises about his needing a woman who could appreciate all that goodness and generosity, she still couldn’t be that woman.
No, really.
Turning her back on the hilarity, she carefully extracted a single strand of angel-hair pasta from the frantically bubbling water, blowing on it before sucking it into her mouth.
“Ready?” Matt said behind her, scaring the bejeebers out of her.
“Mmm-hmm,” she said, nodding and inhaling his scent in the tiny, steam-riddled kitchen. Reveling, maybe.
“No, let me,” he said, grabbing the potholders from her hands to lug the pasta pot off the stove and over to the colander already in the sink, a move that brought solid, yummy-smelling male into contact with not-so-solid female. Yeah, that restraint was evaporating faster than the steam rising up from the warm, limp pasta snuggled together all cozy-like in the colander.
Kelly stared at it, thinking, I am one sick puppy.
* * *
All through dinner, Matt couldn’t decide who was giving off weirder vibes, Coop or Kelly. One minute, the boy refused to look at Matt, the next he was staring at him like he wanted to climb into his brain. But as unsettling as that was, far stranger was Kelly’s hyper, nonstop chatter. Like if Matt said “boo” she’d explode into a million pieces.
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