by Jordyn White
I nod and take a drink.
“I’m so sorry you’ve been going through this.”
“Thanks.”
We’re quiet for a moment and both take a sip of our drinks.
“So,” she says slowly, “it wasn’t really that the two of you didn’t work out. It was her addiction that kind of messed things up. Is that right?”
I hesitate. It’s tempting to say things just right so that it sounds the way I would want her to hear it. But she deserves to hear the truth, and I guess I deserve to be able to share it with her.
“Yes. Our relationship wasn’t perfect. We had a few issues, like I guess everybody does. But, yes. If she hadn’t gotten addicted, I do believe we would still be together.”
Her hand slides down my arm and tucks inside mine. She takes hold of it and squeezes. “That’s a pretty big loss. I’m really sorry. For both of you. How’s little Max?”
“There are times when it’s hard on him. Things are so unstable with her, both in terms of her moods and her boyfriend’s moods.” I roll my eyes. “That guy is an ass and a half. Plus she tends to change things up at the last minute. I never know if she’s going to keep him all weekend or not. He never knows either. She says she’s going to do something and then she doesn’t follow through. He sometimes acts up here at home, or at daycare, following incidents like that. But...” I smile. “Even with all that, he’s a pretty good kid. Cute, funny. He likes kicking the soccer ball around with his dad, so I’m cool with that.”
She laughs, but in the silent moment that stretches out afterward, the mood grows serious again.
“Are...” She seems to think better of whatever she was going to say, because she stops.
“What?”
She’s still hesitant.
“It’s okay,” I assure her. “What do you want to know?”
She bites her bottom lip, but looks at me directly and asks calmly, “Are you still in love with her?”
My heart pinches. Such a loaded question. But I answer honestly. “The woman I fell in love with doesn’t exist any longer.”
She looks down at our entwined hands and nods slowly. I’m not sure what she thinks of my answer. “Have you dated since then?”
“I’ve gone on a few dates, but I haven’t been interested in more than that. I didn’t want to bring a relationship into all this, anyway.”
Head still lowered slightly, she raises her lovely, green eyes to me. “But now?”
I smile softly and squeeze her hand. “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know how Max would handle someone else coming into the picture. His life is so unsettled as it is, plus he’s been through all these different guys with Jessica. The only stability he has is here at home with me. I’m... not ready yet to disrupt things for him.”
As I’ve been speaking, her brow has been sinking down in concern. “I can understand that.”
“But, I’ve moved on from Jessica. There’s no issue there. So if we’re talking about me, just me, then yes. I’m ready for a relationship.”
The corners of her lips turn up slightly.
“With the right woman,” I add.
Her eyes sparkle mischievously and she takes a sip of her water. “Well, let’s hope you find her.”
I lean forward and give her a playful smile. “I don’t think I’ll have to look too far.” She smiles fully and I crook my finger at her, inviting her closer. She leans forward and I slip my hand into the soft valley of the back of her neck. I give her a soft kiss. It’s gentle, and meaningful, at least to me.
When we come apart, we sit back just slightly. “I don’t know if you realize this,” I say quietly, “but this thing with Max’s mother... there’s not too many people I talk to about that.”
She smiles, then slowly slips off her chair and settles onto my lap, loosely wrapping her arms around my neck. I inwardly soften with relief, and wrap my arms around her waist. It feels good to have her close, right here in my arms.
“Thank you for trusting me enough to share that with me. I’m here anytime you need someone to listen.”
As we look at one another a moment, I breathe in the scent of vanilla and Lizzy. I’m amazed at the comfort she is. I put my hand on her cheek, and pull her in for a soft, lingering kiss. She sinks down into me.
Everything about her sinks deep down into me, and something that’s tucked into that hidden, raw place inside of me starts to uncoil. It’s a part of me that’s been so tense and so closed up for so long, I forgot it was even there. But it releases softly, effortlessly. It happens almost independently of my conscious will, as miraculously as a flower unfolding in the sun.
With Lizzy in my arms, and me in hers, I’m infused with a sense of calm I haven’t felt for years.
Chapter 24
Lizzy
After hitting my snooze button for the fifth time, I finally turn off the alarm and peel myself out of bed. Yawning, I head downstairs to the utility room to let Montana into the rest of the house. This is the second morning in a row I’ve been late for him, and he lets me know by giving an extra exuberant greeting, his toenails clicking on the tile as his paws bounce and stomp at my feet.
“Good morning to you too.” I pet him with both hands, scratching his favorite place behind his velvety ear and yawning again. “I’ve got to stop staying out so late.”
That’s advice I know I’m going to ignore.
I stayed at Brett’s until almost two in the morning on Monday, then after getting a nap in after work Tuesday, I went back that night and did the same thing again. Max goes to his mother’s after daycare today and she’ll have him, supposedly, until Friday, then it’s Brett’s weekend to have him. In the meantime, we’re taking advantage of Max being gone, assuming that sticks. Brett plans to stay the night here tonight and, most likely, Thursday night too. Maybe we’ll actually get some sleep.
I head back upstairs to change into my running clothes, and a tired smile creeps onto my face as I remember all the rolling around we’ve been doing the last two nights. Maybe we’ll get some sleep tonight.
A few minutes later, Montana and I head out into a brisk September early morning and break into a warm-up jog. He’s panting happily by my side, the leash hanging loose between us. I’m starting to wake up a little more. In addition to giving both Montana and I some regular exercise, my morning runs are a time when I can think.
I have plenty to think about.
The impact of Brett’s story has been lingering with me. Part of it is the weight of his current situation. I can see why he’s been hesitant to share this with people. I don’t think I’d be quick to do so either. But I’m glad I can be here for him. Last night, he told me all about the hearing. His ex-wife’s test did come back positive, and her lawyer did request the standard appeal, which the judge granted.
I don’t have anything to compare it to, so I don’t know if this is normal, but the hearing seemed to shake Brett up a bit. Surprisingly, he was focused more on Jessica’s behavior in the courtroom, than on what actually happened from a legal standpoint. Maybe because the proceedings were nothing unexpected. Maybe not.
“She was quiet,” he’d said. “Not cocky and defiant like she usually is. I don’t know. Maybe she’s starting to see what this is costing her.”
That’s the other part of his story that’s lingering with me: what his relationship was with her. I don’t know why it bothers me. I guess I think it would be easier if he hadn’t loved her as much as he clearly did. I guess I don’t want to be jealous of his ex-wife, but there’s a tiny part of me that is. It’s stupid, I know.
But I never imagined myself coming into someone’s life second. I never imagined starting with someone who has so much history with someone else. This isn’t just a person he dated either. They were married. They have a child together. And it sounds like before her accident, they were happy. The kind of history Brett has with his ex is significant, and would impact my future with him, if I have one.
I can’t figure
out what I think about all this, but I know that whenever I’ve imagined my future, whenever I’ve imagined a wedding and being a newlywed, I never even considered the possibility that there could be an ex-wife and a kid in the picture.
But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about life, it’s that it’s unpredictable. I never imagined my life without my parents at such a young age either, but here I am.
Then, of course, I haven’t forgotten about the fact that his mother is Marcia Carmichael. He talked about her last night, and how much she’s been there for him through this whole situation. It showed me a different side to her, and I’ve resolved that I’ll do what I can to repair any rifts she and I might have and start fresh. If she’ll let me. It’s one more thing that makes any relationship with Brett potentially more complicated than I would like.
Montana and I pick up speed and descend the hill, heading toward the long ridge of houses that gives us intermittent views of the ocean. In spite of everything, I look out to the sea and smile. In spite of everything, I’m filled with bright appreciation for this beautiful morning, and warm anticipation at seeing Brett again. A relationship with Brett might have potential complications, but he could be worth it.
I remind myself what I’ve already decided. I’m trying not to get too far ahead of myself with this, and trying to trust that if the time comes that I get to meet Max and visit with Marcia as his mom (instead of as my nemesis), it’ll all be okay. I’m just going to take things with Brett one step at a time.
One great, glorious step at a time. It’s when I think about him, just him and being with him, that my worries are soothed.
Brett Carmichael came out of nowhere, but he’s one of life’s surprises I don’t mind. Not one bit.
Brett and I are stretched out on my bed, the sheet light over our naked bodies as we talk easily. When he first got here, we didn’t quite make it upstairs before stripping off our clothes. My parents’ couch has now been properly christened. Afterward we got dressed, I let the dog in, and we talked for a bit while Montana rested his head on Brett’s lap.
I was supposed to start dinner next, but Brett got a little distracted when I bent over to retrieve a pot from the bottom drawer. The kitchen counter has been christened now, too. But before that session was over, we ended up in here, introducing my childhood bed to its adult responsibilities.
Even though I’d planned on making Brett a nice dinner, he was opposed to the idea of me putting clothes back on, or us getting out of bed, so he ordered Thai for delivery and told me I could cook tomorrow night, if I’m so inclined.
That’s how we ended up here in each other’s arms, lazily running fingertips over bare skin, with no intention of getting up until the doorbell rings fifty to sixty minutes from now.
We’ve exhausted the topic, for the moment, of some of the more interesting jobs he’s worked on in the past, and are resting in contented silence.
“I have a question for you,” he says, lightly caressing my shoulder.
“All right.”
“Why aren’t you using the master bedroom?”
A little knot of dread grips my stomach, then loosens again. I tilt my chin up so I can look at him. “That was my parents’ room.”
“Ah.”
I tuck my head back down, resting my cheek on his firm chest. I could leave it at that. But for some reason, I don’t.
“I don’t go in there.”
“You haven’t been in at all?”
“Well, once. My brothers and Corrine and I kind of cleared out their personal stuff, you know. Took all day. This was...” I exhale, thinking. “Oh, in the spring, I guess. Yeah, because I remember it was around Easter.”
We lie there quietly a bit longer. He continues to caress my shoulder and back. I’ve been rubbing his chest, but now I wrap my arm around his stomach and tuck more firmly into him, my bare stomach pressing against his side.
“Is it hard for you to be here? Since this was their house?”
“Well... only sometimes. I’m glad I kept it. I couldn’t stand the thought of it going to strangers. But... yeah... I mean, there’s a lot of memories everywhere, you know? The furniture, the decorations, the artwork. It was all theirs. The house looks pretty much like it did when they were alive. It wasn’t weird when Connor was at my old place and we didn’t know if he was staying or not. Everything was kind of on hold anyway, so it didn’t seem as strange. But now everything’s changing. They close on their house on Monday and I have to figure out what to do with all this stuff I have. Two houses full of furniture, and none of it’s really Whitney’s style or I guess they’d probably be taking some, which would be fine, except...”
I swallow hard, unprepared for my surge of talking, or the emotion that’s swelling up in me. I’ve been kind of avoiding this whole situation. Now it’s bubbling to the surface without my permission.
“Except then things would be different?”
I nod, swallowing again. When I continue, my voice is tight and a little higher than usual, a sign of my suppressed tears. “They asked if they could have this armoire that’s in my bedroom at the other house. I’d found it at an antique shop and refinished it, just as a fun project, you know? And it’s so cute. Whitney loves it. It’s right up her alley. Well, I never could figure out if I wanted it or not, because I love it too, but if I move it here,”—my voice continues to tighten—“something else has to go, and what would I get rid of? Because it was all theirs. So the other day Connor tells me they found an armoire when they were out shopping for furniture and not to worry about it and I was so relieved. But I still can’t figure out where I’d put it if I brought it over here. I know it’s stupid, but I’m feeling really...”
I swallow hard again, not knowing how I feel, other than rotten. I wipe away a tear that’s managed to escape and Brett pulls me closer, wrapping both arms around me and squeezing tight. I nuzzle under his chin and take a deep breath, allowing myself to feel protected in his arms.
He holds me for a while, then says quietly, “It’s kind of like the Cottages.”
I wipe away the last stray tear. “How so?”
“Well, they’ve had one lifetime being one way, and now you’re making something new, and giving them a new life.”
Just like that, the tears reappear. “I don’t want this house to have a new life.”
“I know.” He gently rubs my hair and kisses the top of my head. “But, I wonder if your parents would want you to be stuck like this.”
My only response is an undignified sniffle.
He kisses the top of my head again. “I think, when you’re ready, you’ll find a way to do exactly what you’re doing for those cottages. You’ll find a way to honor the past, as well as leave plenty of room for the future.”
I take a shuddering breath, feeling slightly calmed by his words. Something about the way he’s talking about it feels more... appealing. Like I’m being invited to envision something new, instead of just standing helplessly by as I watch the past crumble away.
“Meanwhile, I think you should take me to your old place someday so we can christen some of the rooms over there too.”
I laugh, sniffing again.
“Or all of them. We could christen all the rooms.”
I go up on one elbow, smiling at him. “Is that your solution to my dilemma? Have sex in every room I own?”
“It’s not a bad plan. Between the two houses, you have a lot of rooms.”
I give him a kiss, then settle back into his arms. “My turn for a question.”
“Okay.”
“There’s... um... some events coming up I’m hoping you’ll come to with me.”
“That’s not really a question,” he says lightly, going back to stroking my back and shoulder.
“We’re celebrating Connor’s birthday at their new place next Saturday. I know it’s potentially your last weekend without Max, so I’m not sure if that’s how you’d want to spend it.”
There’s another court dat
e set for the Wednesday following, and Brett’s hopeful that’s when he’ll finally be granted full custody. I don’t know how we’re going to handle things once he has Max full time, but I figure we can cross that bridge when we get there.
“Are you having a big party?”
“Actually, no. This is his first birthday since our parents passed away so he wants to keep it simple.”
“Ah.”
“He doesn’t want to make a fuss about it, so it’ll just be us on Saturday. Corrine’s coming down from Hartman for the weekend, so she’ll be there too. We’re going to break in their sand volleyball court. He only wants burgers and brats and gave me strict instructions not to do more than that.”
“Are you one of those party planner girls?”
“Maybe. What’s wrong with being a party planner girl?”
He laughs. “Not a thing.”
“Well, good, because yes, I’d love to throw him a proper party. But it’s fine. It’s his day, so whatever he wants is okay. He did say I could make him a birthday treat to take for Sunday, which is his actual birthday, so there’s at least that. He and Whitney are going out on his boat that day.”
“Hmmm. That sounds kind of lonely.”
“No. He’ll have his boat and his Whitney, his two favorite things ever.”
He laughs and I smile. Actually, I’m pretty sure I smile every time I think about how Connor is with Whitney. He makes me believe in love almost more than my parents did. I grew up wanting a relationship like they had. Their love was so big and strong, I felt it all during my growing up years and every time I was around them.
“Would you like to come? I already asked Connor if he would mind and he said it’s all right.”
“Are you sure? It sounds like an intimate, family affair. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“No, it wouldn’t be an intrusion at all. Connor’s actually excited by the prospect of another person for the volleyball game. Do you play?”
“Some. It’s been awhile.”
I hop up on my elbow again and am happy to see he’s smiling. He looks like he wants to accept and I really want him to. “Will you come? Please?”