by Chanta Rand
“Well, keep me posted. You know those dogs are like grandchildren to me–especially since I don’t have any,” she prompted.
Aged fifty-five, Irene Sullivan could pass for a woman in her early forties. Great genes and a diet that strictly forbade red meat contributed to her young looks. She should be enjoying her empty nest, but her greatest wish in life was to be a grandmother. As wild as Dane and his brothers were growing up, he would think she’d want no parts of their offspring. “Yeah, ma. I got the not-so-subtle hint. Sorry to be the source of your angst, but you shouldn’t be looking for any from me. Try Mark and Kendra. They can’t seem to keep their hands off each other.”
“I already made my desperate attempt with them. They’re too busy working on their careers.”
“Uh huh.” Dane steered his truck onto the freeway and made a beeline for his house. If he hurried, he could pick up Sasha from Rose’s house and be at the vet before they closed. Sasha would be whining like an old lady once she got in the truck and realized where they were headed. That dog was smart–and she didn’t like visits to the vet. “I know you didn’t call to put in your monthly plug for grandkids.”
She giggled. “No, I didn’t. I’m planning a sixty-fifth birthday party for your father next month. I know it’s short notice, but we decided to do it on the spur of the moment.”
“Sounds like Cayson’s behind this. That boy always wants to have a party. I think you may have dropped him on his head one too many times when he was young.”
“Dane!” his mother half-scolded, half-laughed. “Don’t say that about my baby.”
Dane smirked. “That little fart hasn’t been a baby in twenty-seven years.”
“That’s why you should come back here to live, so you can keep him in line. Nobody can do it better than you, Dane.”
“No thanks. I’m happy here.”
“Are you really?”
He watched the speedometer climb past seventy-miles an hour. “Yes, I am.”
“It’s just that you seem…lonely.”
“I’m not. I have Sergei and Sasha to keep me company.”
His mother tsked. “They’re animals, Dane. I’m talking about human companionship.”
“You’re just saying that ‘cause you don’t like dogs.” He remembered how his parents refused to let him have a puppy. They said pets were too much trouble. They did allow a few hamsters and in Mark’s case, a pet frog. But there was no substitute for man’s best friend.
“I’m serious, Dane. I’m worried for you. Are you seeing anyone? Mark told me you met someone when you were in the Maldives.”
Damn Mark and his big mouth! Dane didn’t like discussing women with his mother. It was one thing to tell his brothers about his hookup in paradise. Quite another to share details with the woman who gave birth to him. Besides, his romp with Charly had been over a month ago. He was back in Houston now. Charly had probably forgotten all about him. But he thought about her often. Where was she? What was she doing? The fact that he was still thinking about her let him know he couldn’t afford to get caught up in a relationship again. Commitment was too painful.
“Tell Mark to mind his own business,” Dane growled. “You don’t see me rattin’ him out.”
“I wish you wouldn’t look at it that way. We all care about you.”
Dane exited the freeway. In a few minutes, he’d be pulling into his driveway. Then, he would be battling with Sasha, trying to coax her into the car without Sergei. Hell, maybe he should just take both of them. “Sorry Ma. I’m gonna have to cut this short. I’m almost home.”
“Just promise me one thing.”
He shook his head. “I’m not going on any more blind dates.”
“No, not that, sweetie. Promise me you’ll see a grief counselor.”
“What?” He wanted to add, ‘Are you crazy?’ but that would be downright disrespectful.
“I looked on Google and I found a list of therapists in your area. I’m going to email you the names.
“I’m pretty sure that whoever invented Google never meant for their mothers to use it against them.”
The remark didn’t faze her. Irene Sullivan had tortoise-shell skin. She’d raised three boys–she had to be tough. “I really think you need to see someone and talk about Nichole,” she pushed. “That’s the only way you’re going to move on and have a productive life.”
“My life is productive,” he grumbled.
“A TV dinner with your two German Shepherds is not my idea of productive or healthy. I’m not getting off this phone until you promise me, Dane Bronte Sullivan.”
He winced at his mother’s use of his middle name. He wished she hadn’t had such a preoccupation with Wuthering Heights when she was pregnant with him. It was bad enough he was named after a girl. She may as well have christened him Heathcliff. He put his truck in park and took a deep breath. “What good will it do me to promise you, Ma? I could just promise to pacify you.”
“But I know you won’t, Son. You’ve never been a good liar. If you promise me, I trust you’ll do it.”
Damn.
“I don’t ask for much,” she prompted.
“Yeah, Except when I was in fifth grade and we moved. You had me throw away my Spiderman comics because the crate was taking up too much space in the moving van.”
She laughed. “That’s right. Those comic books were destroying your little ten-year old brain. I stand by that decision.”
“Those comics are worth thousands apiece now. I could be a millionaire three times over.”
“Well then. I think this request should be a lot easier for you to swallow.”
She had him there. She rarely asked for anything. He loved her with all his heart, and he knew this would make her happy. “Okay. I’ll go see a therapist,” he conceded. “Just one time.”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
Chapter 6
Charly ended her session with her new client, and escorted her out the doors of her plush downtown office. A full-figured female with a meek personality, the woman was in desperate need of an ego boost. She’d gained forty-six pounds in two years, and as a result, lost her job and her man. Slowly but surely, she was taking her life back. And Charly was ready to help her.
The first session had gone well. Charly sent her away with a laundry list of goals to accomplish before their next meeting. As she sat at her desk typing her notes into the client’s career plan, her cell phone rang. She smiled when she saw her father’s number on the caller ID. “Hey Daddy,” she answered.
“How’s my favorite daughter?”
She laughed. It was a long-standing joke. She was an only child. Her father was fond of saying that she was his only daughter and his favorite daughter. “I’m fine.”
“I haven’t heard from you in a while. Everything okay?”
“Yes sir. I’ve been real busy with work.”
“Um hm. Work never kept you away before. You sure you’re not brooding over that guy you met on vacation? Dean?”
Charly gasped. “You mean Dane? How’d you know about him?”
“Shontal told me.”
“Note to self. Make sure Shontal keeps her butt at home next time.”
Her father chuckled. “She said you were missing in action the whole trip.”
“Let’s just say I was enjoying Dane’s company.” Her father never judged. He was undoubtedly the most open-minded male she knew. Yet, she could never tell him that she’d simply wanted to get her freak on and relieve some of the pressure she’d been feeling. So, she polished it up a bit. “I wanted to let loose and enjoy myself. It was my first vacation in five years. I just hope I didn’t make a mistake.”
“Sometimes we have to do what we have to do without regard to anybody else’s feelings. I’ve been there. I put my dear mama through her paces, God rest her soul.”
Charly knew the story. At age twenty-one, Daddy left college against his parents’ wishes. Then, he refused to marry the woman they’d picked out for
him. It took Grandma fourteen years to forgive him. But he was happy, and he said that was what mattered in life.
“Short-term happiness is fine, but I want more. I want what you and Mom have. A long-lasting relationship filled with love. I thought I had it with Cruz.”
She heard her father expel a deep breath. “Lord knows I loved Cruz like he was my own son. But he had too many demons. You did the right thing by divorcing him.”
“I’ll tell you one thing. I’m not looking to repeat that experience just to find love.”
“Dan sounds like a good guy. Maybe you could start with him.”
Her dad always managed to make her smile without trying. “You mean Dane. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to get in touch with him. So, I guess I’ll never know what could have been.”
“Why don’t you look him up on social media?”
She shrugged. “I’m just not sure where to start.”
A beep in her ear signaled a call waiting. She glanced at the caller ID. Shit. “Dad, I have to go. The son you never had is calling on the other line.”
“Cruz?”
“Yes.”
“I wonder what he wants.”
“That makes two of us. Love you, bye.”
Charly disconnected the call and answered Cruz’s call. She hated that he knew her cell phone number, but he was the father of her children. He might need it in an emergency. “What?” she answered without preamble.
“Hey baby, why you answerin’ the phone like that? All hostile and stuff.”
“First of all, I’m not your baby. Second, I’m at work. Third, I’m busy. And fourth, I don’t have time to make small talk with you. So spit it out.” It was amazing how her mood changed in the span of a few seconds. Anyone who entered her office could probably hear the chill in her voice.
“Fine. Since you got to the point, I will too,” Cruz said. “I wanna see my kids.”
“People in hell want ice water. What’s that got to do with me?”
“Damn, Charly! You don’t give nobody no chances.”
She tapped her pen on her desk, already growing bored with the conversation. “I seem to recall giving you multiple chances. Seventeen to be exact.”
“This is some bullshit!” his voice screeched. “You always keepin’ score. But you can’t keep me from seeing my kids. You better ––”
She pressed end on her cell phone. How dare he threaten her? The man didn’t have a pot to piss in. Yet he acted like the world owed him something. That was how it was with him. Ever since he’d let his addiction destroy everything they had, he’d had a chip on his shoulder. The bright, ambitious young man she’d met in high school had been swallowed up by a pathetic junkie. She’d given him more chances than the law allowed, damn near losing herself and her kids in the process. She would not get sucked into that caustic cycle again.
The moment she hung up, her cell phone rattled again. She prepared herself for battle. “Yes, Cruz?” she answered.
“I’ma have a conversation without you hanging up on me. Why can’t I see my kids?”
“Because you’re a liar. You disappear for months on end. Then, you call out of the blue with more excuses than sense. When I feel sorry for you and agree to let you come over, you don’t show up. So, yes, I am keeping score, Cruz. You are zero for six on your visits, which by the way, I don’t even have to grant according to the court order.”
“So, what are you sayin’? You won’t let me see them?”
“Are you listening to anything I’ve said? You’re like a broken record. The needle keeps getting stuck on the same ole song. I’m not putting my children through that hurt again.”
“Aw, hell no! So, I’m never gonna see them?”
“Not as long as I have sole custody. When they reach eighteen, if they decide they want to contact you, it’s their decision. In the meantime, stop getting their hopes up and then flaking out on them.”
“Unacceptable!” he yelled. “You can’t fuck—”
She hung up again.
That’s it. Cruz has earned ‘block status.’ I wasn’t willing to put up with his behavior five years ago, and I’m definitely not going to tolerate it now.
She went into her cell phone settings and permanently blocked his phone number. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t call her from another phone, but at least it would send him a message: she would not be bullied.
She paced back and forth in her office, mentally reassuring herself that she’d done the right thing. Cruz was too unpredictable. One minute he was angry. The next, he was crying. She was tired of dealing with his outbursts. She only communicated with him for the sake of her children. And now, he was disrupting her work day.
I should have never answered.
You had to. It could have been an emergency.
Her eyes flew to the plaque on her office wall that read ‘Failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.’ She wished she could make Cruz understand that. Tears stung the back of her eyes. She put her head in her hands. No, she would not let him make her cry today. In fact, she would not sit here in this office dwelling on him.
She canceled the rest of her appointments before grabbing her purse and heading for the door. She had five hours until she picked Diego and Joi up from school. She was going to go home, slip into her PJs and get fetal. And if Cruz called her again, she would give him a tongue-lashing he’d never forget.
She made her way toward the building entrance, pausing when she noticed a familiar figure walking through the lobby. When the man turned and made eye contact, her heart froze. All the blood rushed to her head as she scanned him from head to toe. The loud thud of her purse hitting the ground sounded like an echo miles away. Her mouth opened and only one word came out: “Dane.”
********
Dane blinked rapidly. Maybe the heat was affecting his brain. That woman couldn’t be Charly. He recalled the day he first noticed her in a restaurant in Maldives. He’d looked behind him to see if she was smiling at someone else. Now, he knew he was being smiled at, but he couldn’t believe his eyes. He didn’t need a therapist. He needed an optometrist!
Like a vixen in a slow motion music video, she floated toward him. She looked good. Damn good. Better than good. Sexy. She sported long black slacks with a red halter top, the smooth slopes of her bare shoulders demanding to be touched. She had fantastic legs. He didn’t know why she didn’t show them more. The fact that he knew shapely calves and smooth thighs lay beneath the fabric of her pants made appreciation stir in the pit of his belly. When she threw her arms around him to envelop him in a hug, memories of their time together flooded his senses in waves.
The feel of her warm body spooning with his.
The smell of her perfume mingling with her natural scent after they’d made love.
The sound of her voice talking about nothing in particular late into the night.
A man more in touch with his feelings would have wept at the sight of her. He was too tough for tears; he channeled his joy in the form of arousal. He pulled back before she could notice it.
“I can’t believe this,” Charly enthused. “What are you doing here?”
Did she mean here in Houston or here at the therapist? He didn’t want to tell her he’d capitulated to his mother’s demands a week ago, and made an appointment with one of the therapists on her list. He’d picked a name at random. Doctor Julian Pinto. In college, Dane drove a beat-up, old Pinto. That car had taken him through some wild times. He figured he couldn’t go wrong with a doctor of the same name.
Dane cleared his throat. “I’m…uh…running an errand… for…um a friend.” His mother was right: he was a horrible liar. He hoped Charly couldn’t read through his flimsy excuse. There was no way he was telling her about Doctor Pinto. Besides, no revolutionary breakthroughs had been made. Pinto, a well-mannered Jimmy Smits type with a paunch, told him the same thing everyone else had been saying. ‘You need to get out more and start dating.’ Yaddah. Yaddah.
Yaddah. No shit. Dane knew what normal people were supposed to be doing. He just didn’t feel like doing it. “What are you doing here?” he asked, deflecting the spotlight off him.
“I have an office on the third floor.” She pointed to the nearby information sign. “Charlynda Malone, a.k.a. Charly. I still can’t believe you’re here, in the flesh!” She laughed, and the sound was akin to the feeling he got when his team scored a winning play. Exuberant. Undefeatable. Victorious.
“God, I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, Dane. You’re still as handsome as I remember.”
He released the breath he’d been holding. He was so glad she hadn’t dismissed him or acted awkward. She was happy to see him. Still found him attractive. To hell with seeing a therapist. Charly was the only treatment he needed.
She picked her purse up off the ground. “Are you leaving or coming?” she asked.
I wish I was cuming right now, with you. He shook his head, flinging his lecherous thoughts into the dark corners of his mind. “I’m on your schedule. Let’s grab something to eat and catch up.”
Dear God, if you feel any pity for me at all, let her say yes.
“Sure,” she agreed.
His chest puffed out, prouder than an Olympian on the first-place podium. As Charly latched onto his arm, Doctor Pinto walked through the lobby. His wide eyes competed with his incredulous grin at the sight of Dane linked arm-in-arm with a woman. “Wow! That’s what I call progress!”
Charly threw Dane a perplexed glance as Doctor Pinto headed toward the exit. “Who was that guy?” she asked.
Dane delivered his second lie with more conviction than the first. “I have no idea. This world is full of weirdoes.”
********