by Joyia Marie
“So how’s the painting?” Theo asked casually as if he was reading Aiden’s mind.
“It’s good,” Aiden said. He paused and knew if he didn’t say anything else neither would Theo. “I told Helen about it. I figured it would be okay, her being a writer and all.”
“What did she say when she saw it?” Theo asked as they exited the restaurant and got into Theo’s car.
“Nothing, I didn’t show her,” Aiden admitted still surprised at how nonchalant Helen was about the whole thing. Then, with whom her grandmother was, she was probably used to it.
“I offered, but she turned me down. She said she knew I wasn’t ready for anyone to see my work because I didn’t have any displayed in my loft,” Aiden continued while Theo drove.
Theo looked at Aiden at a stop light and said, “Oh my God, she gets it. Please marry this woman the day her divorce is final. That theory might get a little iffy if she saw the piece you gave me on my walls.”
Aiden grinned at the thought about the piece he had done for his friend. It was a night scene of the New York skyline. He had done it to encourage Theo in his quest for success. The big man had actually shed a few tears when he saw it. ‘Not that kind of gay man, my ass,’ Aiden thought, remembering the scene and the grateful hug Theo had given him.
“True, but she might have a point. I paint to get stuff out then I leave it covered in my studio while I move on to the next piece. I have some stuff I like, but none I want my sister’s clients ogling when they come to call,” Aiden said.
“She still does that?” Theo asked with a laugh. “She does know most interior designers use pictures right?”
“Yeah, but she says it has more of an ‘impact’ when seen live,” Aiden said with air quotes around the word impact.
“Denise has always marched to the beat of her own drummer,” Theo said with fond approval.
Denise was one of the first ones to wear Theo’s designs when he was in design school. The dresses he made for assignments ended up hanging in Denise’s closet, then around town when Denise wore them. Theo was an only child and with his mom gone, he didn’t have anyone else to give them to.
His sister had a definite style and he wondered how she and Helen was getting along. Two strong willed women working on a project together seemed like a recipe for disaster, but so far, Denise hadn’t complained.
Aiden had tried to probe gently, hoping for some news on his elusive neighbor, but Denise had blown him off with minutia. Like what paint colors Helen had picked and what kind of appliances she wanted. Aiden was grateful for any news at all but this kind of stuff was not what he wanted.
Aiden had hoped for a call or something when he pointed his sister Helen’s way. Aiden needed to know Helen’s colors for the walls and floor since the plumbing and roughing in of the walls were done.
He was still proud of the changes he had suggested to her design. The three rooms and two bathrooms on the second floor would have worked, but it would have been tight. Aiden had suggested two rooms with a bathroom in the middle and moving the third room to the first floor toward the back. There was already a bathroom on the first floor so that saved Helen on the plumbing and left money to make the room on the first floor.
The third floor, he had reshaped with an office area. He knew Helen planned an office area on the first floor, but he thought she might like one up there as well, so she didn’t have to make the trek if she didn’t want to. He couldn’t help but imagine her bedroom fully furnished and sharing a big comfortable bed with her.
He hoped she got a king sized bed. He was a big man and he liked the room. He refused to believe he and Helen were over and decided to put a bug in his sister’s ear to encourage Helen toward the bigger bed.
“This is you,” Theo said as they pulled up in front of the loft. Aiden flushed as he realized he was sitting there with a big dumb grin on his face for most of the ride. Helen was in his thoughts constantly. It was distracting. He made up his mind to get a hold of her soon. He couldn’t go on like this.
“Thanks for lunch, Theo. Make sure you call my mom, wherever they are now and let her know you made it back safe,” Aiden said as he opened his door.
“They’re still out there?” Theo laughed. Aiden remembered they hadn’t talked about his parents during lunch. Getting Theo caught up with Helen and his sisters and their kids took up that time. “I thought they’d be back by now. You know your mother is big on home and hearth.”
“Yeah, but I think she’s actually enjoying it. Now, I can’t say how much and for how much longer, but they seem to be doing okay. Anyway, man, thanks for lunch and it’s good to have you back. I know my sister, Sheila, will be glad you’re back. She’s been sweating bullets about her dress.”
Theo sighed. “Yeah, I know. She called me while I was on the road. I told that little girl that the design was done. I sent her a copy of the design for approval, which she did. All we have to do is pick out the fabric and we’re good. My seamstress is waiting patiently. The wedding is still six months away. Your sister needs Jesus.”
“Pick out the fabric,” Aiden said. “Isn’t she going with white? Isn’t white, white?”
Theo looked at him and shook his head. “How can you say that and you’re a painter? No, white is not white. We have to find the right white to compliment her skin tone.”
“If you say so,” Aiden said doubtfully, “although I think she’s taking a big risk wearing white. Lightning might strike the church.”
Aiden’s youngest sister was a bit of a wild child during college. Then she really cranked it up a notch in beauty school. Aiden was glad when she settled down and ecstatic when his sister’s boyfriend Ted asked for her hand at Thanksgiving last year. His father had looked eternally grateful to have his young hellion off his hands.
“I’m not hearing you,” Theo said loudly, putting his hands over his ears. “All I know about my baby sister is she will be wearing white just like her sisters did when they got married.”
Aiden grinned and got out of the car. “Thanks again for lunch, Theo and I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye,” Theo said before he drove away. Aiden watched until his car turned the corner toward his studio. Theo would be home free at that point. He practically could walk from his studio to Aiden’s loft and had in the old lean days.
Aiden hopped into his truck despite the urge to check Helen’s loft one more time. He knew he was getting on the site supervisor’s nerves and the men were beginning to wonder. So far they attributed his nervous Nelly behavior to the fact this client would be his neighbor and who would want to live next door to a disgruntled client.
However, they have given him speculative looks lately and he needed to cool it before the rumor mill got started. He refused to be known as another Craig Duncan, the lecherous contractor that Helen had had bid on the job. He smiled when he remembered the unhappy look on Duncan’s face when Aiden had run into him at Home depot.
Aiden drove back to the office with a smile on his face. He had won over Duncan and he’d win over Helen. She’d come around or he’d go around and find her. His niece had another soccer game this weekend and maybe he’d run into her again. His nieces’ game last week was an away game and Aiden had missed it.
“Soon, Helen,” he murmured to himself as he marked off another day on his mental divorce calendar.
Chapter Forty-Seven: Harold
Harold looked at the divorce papers sitting on his desk. Every day for the past week, he had brought them to work, meaning to sign them and have them couriered over to Bret’s office. Every day they made the round trip back home unsigned.
Bret had called, but Harold had put him off. Jillian didn’t even know he had them. He didn’t know why, but he just wasn’t ready yet.
Last weekend was better at Jillian’s after Helen picked up the kids from the game again. They had spent the night and the next day renewing old ties, but Harold had to admit she seemed distracted. It was the first time they saw each o
ther all week.
Mrs. Fitzgerald kept Jillian on the road constantly and Harold was too timid to make an issue of it. It was hard to be firm with a woman who used to wipe his snotty nose when he would accompany his father to the office.
Jillian had finally stopped complaining when Harold snapped at her and told her he knew she was responsible for some of the rumors at the office. She should have thought about this before she started running her big mouth. Harold knew the people in this office and they were old fashioned. Affairs were secret not discussed over the water cooler.
Jillian had looked at him with shocked eyes, then got that crafty look that they was getting all day. She looked at Helen as if Helen was her bitch and Harold wondered about that. He didn’t question it because if Jillian thought she was Rambo enough to take on Helen then he wished her the best of luck. She’d need it.
He hadn’t gotten a chance to pull Helen aside for a talk with the kids right there. He did see Helen pull Jillian aside and hand her something, but Harold was too far away to see what. He just took comfort in it looked like paper so it couldn’t have been a bomb.
Jillian had tucked whatever it was in her pocket with a pleased grin and rejoined him. He meant to ask her about it later, but the second they got to her apartment, she closed the door, and dropped to her knees. Harold smiled as he remembered the rest of it. Jillian had truly outdone herself.
He wondered if it was time for another meeting between Jillian and the kids. He thought about it last week, but Jillian was such a terror that first weekend, he dropped it. However, after this weekend he was reconsidering.
If the kids accepted Jillian then he could have Jillian over during the week and after the kids went to bed, he and Jillian could renew their old sex life. Jillian had spoiled him and now he was used to daily enthusiastic sex.
Harold looked down at the paperwork and frowned. He needed to make a decision. Jillian hadn’t asked about his divorce this weekend, but she was sure until tonight when they talked. They made an agreement to talk every night after the twins went to bed.
He was looking forward to a little phone sex. Jillian this weekend was more like the woman he fell in love with despite her periods of inattention. He wondered what she was thinking about so hard. Probably when they could finally be together, he told himself with a smile.
The papers loomed in front of his face and he picked up the pen. He had barely put pen to paper when he stopped. Was he sure? Is this what he really wanted? He thought Helen was what he really wanted and look how that turned out.
He’d hate to be going through this again in a few years. His parents were barely speaking to him now and he didn’t think their relationship could take another divorce. He set the pen back down. There was no rush. It wasn’t as if Jillian was pregnant or anything.
She would have been after last weekend, he thought with a smug grin. They tried to burn off two weeks of sexual drought in 36 hours, and done a good job with it. Good thing she on the pill he thought.
Jillian wouldn’t try to catch him with the oldest trick in the book, he knew. She wasn’t ready for kids yet. Look at what a fuss she was making about his kids. He got it. She was still young barely out of college. She’d want to spend some time with her new husband before any kids entered the picture.
Harold smiled, he tried to picture a child of his and Jillian. Then he frowned. He’d have to ask her about multiple births in her family. He wasn’t going through the twin thing again. , no twins in her history didn’t really mean anything. Look at Helen.
Speak of the devil, he thought as his phone rang and his assistant told him it was Helen. Wonder what she wants, he thought sarcastically. She hadn’t taken his phone calls, but she had sent several messages through her lawyer, via his lawyer for him to ‘sign the damn papers’.
Harold didn’t know how much of his reluctance to sign the divorce papers was he wasn’t sure if he was ready to be divorced and how much was how much it was bugging Helen that he hadn’t already. He would admit to a tiny frisson of pleasure at having the upper hand for the first time since this all started. Helen had to dance to his tune for once and he was enjoying it.
“Hello, Helen,” he said cheerily into the phone.
“Sign the damn papers, Harold,” Helen said without preamble. Her tone was resolute but he could hear that long suffering tone he had grown to loath from her. How long had she used that tone with him and why had he let her get away with it.
“I’m taking my time to consider my options,” he said casually. “I’m beginning to wonder if maybe we made a mistake.”
The last was more true then Helen might know and he thought this was a safe way to test the waters. If Helen showed any sign of wanting to get back together, he’d give it serious consideration. Good sex was not really worth all these headaches.
He and Helen used to have good sex. She had tried to introduce some variety in the early days of their marriage, but he was too embarrassed by the fact his wife knew more about sex than he did and was resistant. By the time, he figured out that that was stupid. It was nobody’s business what happened in bed between husband and wife Helen had thrown in the towel and seemed content to follow his lead.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have the knowledge to lead so their sex consisted of him hopping on and off as quickly as possible. He knew he was a little quick on the draw and without foreplay, sex was a fast and furious affair. After Jillian, he was sure he could show Helen a thing or two. He’d love to try it, especially now that she looked like the woman he fell in love with.
“Harold,” Helen began, then stopped to take a deep breath. He pulled the phone away from his ear as she screamed, “SIGN THE DAMN PAPERS, HAROLD!” well, at least that showed some spirit, he thought with satisfaction.
“Not quite yet, Helen. I’m serious and if you had answered the phone any time in the last week, you would know that. We were married for 14 years and it seems a shame to throw that away without at least trying to fix this,” Harold said with some patience of his own. Damn, she couldn’t even listen to him?”
Harold listened as Helen breathed into the phone, then he frowned as she began to chuckle. It wasn’t the nice sweet chuckle of Santa at Christmas time. It was the mean, nasty chuckle of the Grinch that stole Christmas.
“So you think we’ve made a mistake, do you Harold?” Helen asked calmly when she stopped laughing.
“Uh, yeah,” he said uneasily, not sure where this was going, but that was a usual occurrence when dealing with Helen.
“You know what Harold I think you’re right. We have made a mistake,” Helen said brightly and Harold felt a brief flare of hope.
Maybe it wasn’t too late to fix this. He could have his family back. His parents would stop looking at him as if he was the unfortunate idiot they had the misfortune to produce. He could have his life back.
He’d miss Jillian, but he was sure he and Helen could rekindle that spark for the beginning of their marriage. He knew he’d be a lot more receptive to her overtures now that he knew how much fun some of them could be. He allowed the small flare of hope to flower.
Then Helen stomped on it with the next words. “We have made a mistake, but we didn’t make the same mistake. Your mistake was trading your wife for a bleached blond bimbo who doesn’t ‘do’ kids,” she said slowly emphasizing ‘do’. “What kind of father would even continue to talk to a woman who said that when he had kids?”
“Your mistake?” Harold asked in a low voice.
He was ready to hear how some part of this disaster wasn’t his fault. How could he have been this stupid? He overlooked Jillian’s words because she was young and he really didn’t see her spending that much time around his kids, but now he wondered. She said she wanted to try it, but you don’t try with the kids. You either do or not do, there is no try, he thought channeling Yoda from Star Wars.
“My mistake, Harold?” Helen asked in a low mean tone of voice that told him he really didn’t want the answer to his question
. He couldn’t think of a way to stop her before she told him what her mistake was.
“My mistake was marrying a weak little man who would screw a 20 something year old bleached blond bimbo and stay married to him for 14 years, give birth to two of his children and ignore him screwing that bleached blond bimbo so I could keep my kids’ home intact long enough for them to finish high school. That was my mistake, Harold so you’re right, we have BOTH made mistakes,” Helen finished with a shout.
“She’s twenty-two,’ Harold said for no reason he could fathom. Why he thought Helen would want to know that, he couldn’t say and this was all he could think of to say.
“Who’s what?” Helen asked between pants.
“Jillian. She’s twenty-two. You said 20 something and she’s twenty-two.
Helen cracked up laughing. Harold was a little offended. He knew what he said was inane, but surely not as funny as that.
“Harold, Harold, Harold,” Helen said when her laughter calmed down to chuckles. “Every time I think you can’t possibly get any more stupid, you are bound and determined to prove me wrong.”
“So Jillian says she’s twenty two, huh?” Helen said casually while Harold sputtered into the phone.
“That’s not what she says, that’s her age,” Harold said fiercely.
“Okay, Harold, you keep telling yourself that,” Helen said smugly.
Harold looked at the phone and wondered what Helen knew that he didn’t. She sounded smug and she only sounded that way when she knew something he didn’t. One of the reasons he believed in the back of his mind that she somehow engineered the twins was she had a smug little smile on her face the whole pregnancy. She had when she wasn’t screaming or glaring at him.
“Look, Harold, it’s simple. You sign the papers and you and the 22-year-old Jillian can get married. I’ll keep coming to get the kids on the weekends, so you and the 22-year-old Jillian can have that private time newlyweds need. You and she need to get that quality time in before the 22-year-old Jillian start popping out little Petersons. Doesn’t that sound nice?” Helen asked coaxingly.