Polly didn’t like that, shared it back and that was when the real mean girls, watching this from not very far, swung in.
According to Pip, Ash and Auden, who reported this to me sitting around my bar (while Cillian was hoovering through some homemade sugar cookies), they’d decimated Polly.
It was so bad that she didn’t go to school after that for two days.
When she came back, the new status quo had been established.
The bully had become the bullied.
Polly’s “friends” all defected, attempting to establish themselves with Ash and her crowd, who were not very accepting.
Auden wasn’t exactly arrogant about his call of the situation, but he did get in a few comments the like of, “Knew this would happen.”
However, as Polly was receiving her comeuppance, Kellan had finally drawn up the nerve to ask Aisling out.
Aisling was stunned and quietly thrilled.
Pippa was openly beside herself with glee.
The same could not be said for Mickey.
His first reaction was to flatly refuse to allow this.
Aisling was crushed, shared that with her mother and me, and both Rhiannon and I double-teamed him to relent.
He did.
Of a sort.
They could meet, being dropped off (since Kellan couldn’t drive yet) to have dinner at the diner. They had two hours. Then they were getting picked up separately.
However, this could not happen until during the Christmas break.
What Mickey didn’t know was that Kellan was walking Aisling to class, holding hands with her, and his posse was eating lunch with her posse.
Pippa shared this with me.
I did not share this with Mickey.
During this time, my kids had not quite made up with their father. He was trying and they were not rebuffing, but they stayed full-time with me.
Naturally, through all this, so much going on in such a short time at the same time preparing for Christmas, there had been an intermingling of families. The kids were getting used to each other. Auden was taking the lead as a big brother of sorts to all, including Cillian who wasn’t at his school.
So Mickey thought it was time.
Which meant it was our next step but a step that said everything.
Because if he wanted our children to get used to all of us under one roof, what happened next?
Only one thing.
Us being under one roof.
Permanently.
I loved this idea, obviously. And after a very shaky start, the kids were bonding beautifully.
It still scared the heck out of me.
“What if they fight over the remote or don’t agree on movies?” I asked.
“Listen to yourself, Amelia,” Alyssa replied. “All families fight over the remote and don’t agree on movies.”
She was right.
I was being an idiot.
“It’s weird,” I whispered. “My kids knowing I’m going to bed with Mickey.”
“Why?” Josie asked. “I’m under the impression you’ve been spending the night at Mickey’s. Have I missed something? Do his children mind?”
“No,” I answered.
“And, just pointin’ out,” Alyssa added. “Your two got some experience, their dad havin’ another wife.”
“This is true,” I mumbled.
“It’ll all go great,” Josie assured, patting me on the arm.
“Can’t go worse than Thanksgiving,” Alyssa muttered.
They of course knew all about our stellar holiday.
“Alyssa,” Josie hissed.
Alyssa raised her brows “Do I lie?”
“No, but still,” Josie returned. “I’m sure Amelia would prefer not to be reminded.”
“It’s okay,” I cut in. “You’re both right. Heck, if Mickey has his kids, they’re all together before school for Auden to take them and after school when they come back and we’re almost always having dinner together.”
“Families under one roof, your room a mile away from their wing of that place, means you’ll finally get laid,” Alyssa remarked.
This was a bonus.
Mickey and I had hit a dry patch because, me having my kids full-time, he couldn’t spend the night and I couldn’t either.
This meant no nights.
And no mornings.
He was gearing up to quit Ralph and keeping his regularly crazy schedule so there wasn’t time for us to meet somewhere to have quickies. And even though I was supposed to leave the kids behind and go to the locker room for fight night, every Saturday all the kids had come, Pippa, Ash, Auden and Cillian, even bringing their friends, and it wasn’t easy keeping a huge crew away from the cool dad who’d just won his fight. And, of course, my kids were with me so he couldn’t come over and fuck me on the dining room table.
This meant no sex but a lot of phone sex, which Mickey did really well.
But it wasn’t the real thing.
Thus, my guess, Mickey pushing the blending of families under one roof.
The last of the variety of reasons.
And another good one for me.
I was still nervous.
“Yeah, definite bonus,” I said to Alyssa.
“Amelia,” Josie called me.
I looked to her.
“I had no mother and a terrible father,” she told me. “All I had was my Gran. So I can say with some authority that if kids have two moms or two dads, all who care a great deal and want more than anything for those children to be happy, this is not a bad thing.”
She was very right.
And there it was. Just what I needed.
“Thanks, Josie,” I whispered.
“Don’t mention it,” she replied.
“Now that Amelia’s sorted, we gotta talk,” Alyssa announced, eyes to my nails, but I had a feeling she was talking to Josie. I would know this to be true when she went on, “Sofie told her dad and me last night that Conner invited her down to Boston for the weekend. You know I’m as liberal minded as the best of them, but no way in fuck her father or me are lettin’ her go spend the weekend with her college boyfriend.”
I listened to Josie whole-heartedly agreeing and I was there. I wasn’t far away. They’d helped work the things out that were taking control of my thoughts.
But I listened to them thinking La Jolla was one of the most amazing places on earth. It was beautiful and the weather was divine.
However, in all the time I’d spent there, outside of my children, I’d never gotten anything I needed.
No, I’d needed to move all the way across the country to a small town in Maine to find what I needed.
And I’d done that.
So finally, after forty-seven years, the Calway heiress didn’t want for anything.
On this thought, there was movement the like it would take your attention at the windows in front of Maude’s House of Beauty. Josie and Alyssa stopped talking as all eyes went there.
When they did, we saw a woman with long, thick auburn hair pulled back by one of those wide, wooly headbands that kept your ears warm. She also had on a puffy vest over an attractive turtleneck, a great pair of jeans that did wonderful things for her behind and a fabulous pair of high-heeled boots.
She’d whipped around and her rosy-cheeked face was screwed up in adorable anger as she jabbed her pointed finger at someone and shouted, “You no longer know me, Coert!”
At that moment, the handsome sheriff I’d seen at the town council meeting (a friend of Mickey’s I had not yet met) came walking into view. He stopped, planted his hands on jeans-clad hips, his profile was supremely annoyed, and he said something that only could be heard as a deep murmur.
“Kiss my ass!” she shouted, turned with her rich, beautiful auburn hair flying and flounced off.
Coert didn’t move, just stood there with hands on hips, muscle flexing in his jaw, watching where she went before he turned and prowled the other way.
Alyssa instant
ly snapped her head back to us.
“You know about that?” she asked Josie.
“No,” Josie answered.
Alyssa looked to me. “You know about that?”
“Nope,” I answered.
Her eyes drifted back to the windows. “We gotta find out about that.”
“Yep,” Josie and I both said at the same time.
We looked at each other, Alyssa looked to me, and we all burst out laughing.
Doing it, I knew I was right.
The Calway heiress finally had everything she needed.
* * * * *
Mickey wandered in from my bathroom while I was sitting in bed screwing the cap back on my moisturizer.
I turned my eyes to him and smiled.
My kids in the house. His kids in the house. And Mickey, his pajama bottoms, his chest and all the rest of him in my bedroom with me.
Happy.
“Hey,” I called. “Went good tonight.”
It did. I’d had nothing to worry about. The kids were like they were when they were hanging at my bar eating my baked goods or shuffling around Mickey’s kitchen making dinner.
His eyes came to me and I saw they were distracted, but he answered, “Yeah.”
It was then I noticed that he’d walked in but he didn’t continue walking in. He was one step into the room and not moving.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
His head gave a slight jerk and he focused on me.
“Yeah,” he repeated.
I studied him and from my study, I was forced to push, “You sure?”
“Yep,” he muttered, moving around the bed to his side.
I shifted my lower body to pull the covers out from under me. I unfolded and yanked them over me as Mickey pulled his side back and slid in.
I rolled to face him.
He rolled to face me and got up on an elbow. “Cill and Auden are in Auden’s room playin’ some game. Think the girls are out, but my kids are in new beds. May take them time to settle. Until I know they’re down, not gonna fuck you, babe.”
I agreed because this was always our way when we were at his house, but the deadpan way he shared this made me uneasy.
“All right, honey,” I whispered.
He dropped to his back then twisted to reach to his light.
It went out.
I stared at him as he settled on his back.
Then I forced myself to reach to my light. I turned it out and settled myself, also on my back.
I stared at my ceiling.
My bed was big and for the first time ever with both of us in it, there felt like miles between us.
And Mickey didn’t reach out to me.
What was happening?
Before I could ask, he did. Pulling me to him, tangling us up, and I stifled my sigh of relief.
“You ever get anything back from your folks?” he asked.
I blinked at his throat in the dark.
Where did that come from?
“Well…” I started hesitantly. “Yes and no. They sent something through their attorneys but it’s just their way. They do stuff like that. It makes no sense. They’re angry with me for not taking their calls but that was months ago. They’ll chew on it awhile and get over it. Though,” I said with a smile, “the way it is with them in my life, it’s awful to admit, however true, that I’m kinda liking the reprieve.”
“Yeah,” he replied like he didn’t exactly believe me.
“It’ll be okay, Mickey,” I assured him. “They’ll get over it and then they’ll come out because it’s what you do, you spend time with your daughter and grandchildren. You’ll meet them. They’ll heartily disapprove of you. I’ll share that you’re Michael Patrick Donovan of the Magdalene Donovans who own Maine Fresh Maritime and they’ll stop heartily disapproving of you and start simply disapproving of you. Then Dad will attempt to talk Cillian out of his dreams of being a fighter pilot and into a role at Calway, which will drive you up a wall. In the end you’ll beg me to do something that will get us six more months of peace.”
I was joking.
He wasn’t laughing.
He just repeated, “Yeah.”
This troubled me at the same time the mention of Cillian being a fighter pilot reminded me that the first day the kids were off school, Mickey was taking them on a Christmas vacation to Phoenix. Something that was happening imminently.
He had not asked me to come, maybe because he knew I couldn’t considering my kids were with me. But we’d be separated for a week. We’d talked about planning some late Christmas celebration with all of us after they returned but we hadn’t nailed anything down.
I cuddled closer. “This night went so great, we should plan when we’re gonna do our belated family Christmas, honey.”
“After we get back. First day I have off when I got the kids. Your kids at my place.”
Decision made with no input from me.
His strange, highly unusual mood meant I didn’t challenge that.
Mickey was quiet.
I was worrying.
Mickey ended his silence.
“This goes the distance between us, my kids and me move in to Cliff Blue.”
My head tilted back instantly. “I’m sorry?”
He didn’t repeat himself.
He said, “You got enough rooms where the kids each can have their own space and you got that den for a guest bedroom just in case your brother or my folks come. I’ll sell my place, give you the profit. But I pay all utilities when we move in.”
“I…but…you…that’s…I don’t know—” I stammered but never finished the thought I didn’t quite get around to having.
Mickey interrupted me, “This market, I could make eight, nine hundred K off my house. That’s not a fifth of this place so I take over utilities so I feel I’m doin’ what I gotta do.”
“How about, when we get there,” I began carefully, “that we share things equitably? What you can do a percentage of what—?”
I stopped that time because his arms gave me a squeeze and his mouth added, “Don’t finish that, Amy.”
I said nothing further.
“Do what I gotta do,” he stated.
“Okay, Mickey,” I agreed but only because he was being so strange and it was scaring me.
“And not tough. Kids love this place. It’s nice. It’s big. You love it. And the tub doesn’t suck.”
That sounded more like Mickey so I again settled in and replied, “All that’s true.”
“Yeah,” he muttered.
I fell silent and in doing so, listened to Mickey fall asleep. No brush of the lips. No goodnight.
Nothing.
It took me longer but I fell asleep with him.
Mickey woke me with his mouth on mine, his hands pushing my nightie up my back and his lips saying, “Did a walkthrough. They’re all out.”
Then he kissed me.
Even half asleep, it was a kiss from Mickey so I kissed him back.
And thus commenced Mickey making love to me.
This was a surprise. We had not had any kind of intimacy that wasn’t shared through cell towers for weeks. I thought it would be intense and fast and astounding.
It wasn’t. It was slow and reverent and sweet.
We’d taken our time before. We’d enjoyed each other lengthily and thoroughly. I loved it when Mickey guided it to that, just as much as I loved it when we went at each other like teenagers.
But when he finally let me finish and then I took him there, he tangled us together, murmured “’Night, Amy,” and I again listened to my guy drift off to sleep.
I didn’t sleep myself.
Not a wink.
Because I’d been made love to like that before. Not as good, but Mickey was better with everything.
It had been the night before Conrad left me.
So no, I didn’t sleep.
Not a wink.
* * * * *
“Okay, what is your problem?”
She, Josie and me were sitting together having lunch at Weatherby’s. It was two days after Christmas. Mickey and his kids were returning the next day. My kids had ended their rift with their father and went to him the afternoon of Christmas day (as was his turn) and with my blessing had been staying with him since.
So I had been suddenly and unusually alone.
Alone enough to finally come to terms with what was happening.
The last real conversation I’d had with my guy, he’d shared that if what we “went the distance” he was moving his family into Cliff Blue with me.
But it bore repeating, that was the last real conversation I’d had with my guy.
He’d been gone for a week in Phoenix with his kids but even before he left, he had removed himself from me.
And after he left, I heard more from Cillian and Ash than I did from Mickey, not only through their constant communications with my kids via texts and calls, but directly to me (via mostly texts).
All I got from Mickey was such as, “Phoenix is great,” and “Cill kicked it in the flight simulator,” and “Yeah, I know we need to plan our Christmas thing. We’ll talk about it when we get back.”
There were no, “You’d love it here,” or “You should have seen Cill in that flight simulator,” or “Can’t wait to have our thing, baby, love you.”
In fact, there were no “love yous” at all.
I said it when we were disconnecting and his reply would be, “Yeah. Same.”
Yeah. Same.
He was pulling away and I had no idea why.
I focused on Alyssa. “I think Mickey’s gonna break up with me.”
“What?” she shrieked and I saw heads turn and this was probably because Josie added her own unusually loud, “Pardon me?”
“Shh,” I hissed, leaning into the table to do it.
Alyssa, across from Josie and me, leaned back and Josie leaned toward me.
“What?” she repeated.
“He’s pulling away from me,” I told them.
“As it might feel, Amelia,” Josie stated. “He’s an entire continent away.”
“He hasn’t said ‘I love you’ in nearly two weeks.”
“Fuck,” Alyssa muttered.
She got it.
Josie didn’t.
“He may be in company and not desirous of sharing this depth of emotion in front of his friends. You did say they were staying with someone he grew up with, a man who’s a fighter pilot in the armed services, thus a man’s man and with both, his friend might tease him about such things. Perhaps he feels private sentiments should remain private and he hasn’t had a chance to gain that privacy.”
Soaring (9781311625663) Page 58