by Claire Adams
“Aren’t you supposed to be in a relationship?” I demanded.
“Oh…that,” Melody said, sounding annoyed. “That’s over.”
“What?” I said incredulously. “You and Fred are done?”
“As of this morning,” she nodded.
“What happened?”
She shrugged. “Things just fizzled out. Even while we were having sex this morning, I felt the chemistry disappear into thin air.”
“You told me three weeks ago that you thought he might be the one.”
“That was three weeks ago.”
I laughed. “I really should have known better.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning that I’ve been in California for five months now. I’ve known you for almost all of those months, and in that time, you’ve had two different boyfriends, both of which you claimed were your soul mate.”
“I believed it at the time,” Melody said defensively.
“Okay, I can understand you saying that the first time around,” I said. “But every guy you meet can’t be the one?”
“They’re not. They’re all guys who have the potential to become ‘the one,’” she explained. “I give them all the benefit of the doubt until they prove me wrong.”
“Do you honestly believe that?” I asked curiously.
“What?”
“That there is such a thing as ‘the one?’”
“Of course, I believe it,” she said with certainty. “I believe there’s a perfect match out there for every single one of us.”
I frowned. “What about men and women who’ve been married multiple times and claim to have loved all their spouses?”
“You can have more than one soul mate,” she said easily. “You just have to be lucky.”
“You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you?” I teased.
“If I did, I would be married by now and living on the east coast of France.”
I laughed. “Is that the dream?”
“Oh, definitely,” she nodded. “Until then, however, I need to keep searching.”
“For your soul mate?”
“Naturally.”
“Have you ever considered the possibility that your soul mate might live in another country? Maybe he lives on the other side of the world? For all you know, he could be living in Mongolia as we speak.”
Melody laughed. “I guess I better gear up for a world soul mate hunting tour.”
I shook my head at her. “You are crazy.”
“And, you are a pessimist,” she said accusingly. “Seriously, what is wrong with believing in true love?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t grow up to see true love as realistic,” I admitted.
“How tragic,” Melody said, looking at me as though I were a lost puppy.
“It’s not tragic,” I laughed. “It’s just how I was raised, I guess.”
“Let me guess; your parents had a bad marriage?”
I hesitated. I never really liked talking about my childhood or my adolescence. They were parts of my life that I wanted to leave behind. It wasn’t because they were too painful. It was because they weighed me down. The burden of my mother’s past was stiff around my shoulders, and there had been moments growing up when I’d felt suffocated. Getting out of Michigan was the best decision of my life, and a part of me wished that I’d had the courage to do it sooner.
I thought of that pivotal moment when I’d made the decision to leave Michigan. I had been staring at the old photograph I had stolen from my father’s memory box when I was seven. I had looked at it so often over the years that it was frayed and worn at the edges, but it still had power over me. Somehow, I knew it was time for me to do something about all the questions that had been collecting in my mind since I was old enough to ask the right ones.
“Uh no,” I said, after a short pause. “My parents weren’t even married in the first place. My father was around only sporadically, and after I turned twelve…he disappeared from my life for good.”
“Geez,” Melody said, whistling under her breath. “That must have been—”
“It is what it is,” I interrupted, clearing my throat to stop myself from getting too emotional. “The point is I saw my mother spend the first few years of my childhood being madly in love, and then suddenly, her love story didn’t turn out to be the magical fairytale she had envisioned for herself.”
“Can’t say that I blame her,” Melody said. “Especially if the man I loved abandoned me and my kid.”
“Oh, she was to blame, too,” I said before I could stop myself.
“What?”
I shrugged. “I just mean that she was not the victim. Trust me.”
Melody raised her eyebrows. “I feel like there’s more to that story.”
“Not really,” I said. “My mother moved on, and in time, she realized that it was stupid to have thought of my father as the only man for her. She got on with her life, and so did I.”
“You never missed not having him around?”
“He was only playing at being a father,” I said, without much emotion. “He wasn’t really my father.”
She sighed. “It all makes sense now.”
“What does?”
“Your cynical outlook on life and love,” she said dramatically. “You’re a scarred child.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m really not.”
“You’re from a broken home,” Melody continued like she hadn’t heard me speak.
I laughed. “Oh boy.”
“You’ve closed your heart to love.”
“I haven’t done any such thing,” I said. “I’m just not prepared to believe that every single guy I meet may potentially be the love of my life. Some men come into your life for short bursts and others may stick around a little longer, that’s all.”
“And, what category do you think your boss fits into?” Melody asked slyly.
I pursed my lips. “He’s my boss,” I pointed out. “Nothing can happen there.”
“Why not?”
Because he doesn’t know my secret, I thought to myself, and if he did, he’d probably want nothing to do with me. I didn’t say that, however. I liked Melody, but there were some things I would be taking to my grave.
“Did you miss the part where I said he is my boss?” I reiterated.
“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve slept with two of my bosses.”
“Melody!”
“The only reason I didn’t sleep with my third boss was because she was a woman, and unfortunately, I’m totally straight.”
I laughed. “You could write a book about your conquests.”
“And, you could write a book on how to effectively change the subject,” Melody said. “You have to admit; you find him attractive, don’t you?”
“He’s a handsome man,” I admitted. “Yes, of course, I find him attractive.”
“But?”
“But I don’t like mixing business and pleasure.”
She sighed. “You’re such a fuddy-duddy,” she complained. “Fine then, your boss is off limits and off your radar. But there are other men in this city, you know.”
“I’m aware,” I smiled.
“Then why aren’t you getting proactive about meeting some of them?” Melody demanded. “The right guy isn’t just going to fall into your lap, you know?”
“It would be so convenient if he did, though,” I sighed.
“I could set you up?”
“No,” I said immediately. “No way.”
“Why not?”
“I’m extremely awkward on first dates,” I said lamely. “And also…”
“Yes?”
“I’m not willing to have sex on the first date,” I said.
“How very old-fashioned of you,” she teased.
“If I do meet someone, I want to wait until I’m comfortable enough to sleep with him.”
“Urgh… How long is that going to be?”
I paused. “Um…a couple of
months?”
“Fuck,” Melody said, looking at me as though I had just revealed that I was an alien. “That long?”
“Sex means something to me.”
“Evidently.”
I smiled, wondering how she would react if I told her that I was still a virgin. She would probably go into conniptions right here in the restaurant. It was almost worth doing just so that I could see her reaction. I stayed silent and let her regale me with the choicest titbits of her many sexual escapades, but the whole time, I found myself thinking of Jake Middleton.
Chapter Three
Jake
No matter how hard I stared at numbers on my laptop screen, I couldn’t seem to concentrate on any of them. Instead, I reflected on how focusing on one thing for too long seemed to make it lose all meaning. My head was spinning, and my body was tired, but I knew I needed to crunch the numbers before my morning meeting.
I hated leaving certain things up to other people because something inevitably slipped through the cracks when I did. I preferred to be on top of things so that I knew exactly what was happening at all times. That had been the main reason I had risen so fast in the company. The board of directors had noticed my work ethic, and when a candidate needed to be put forward for the position of CEO, my name had come up. I reflected on the moment when they had offered me the position. It had felt like validation somehow.
The steady drum of Noah’s toy blocks was also getting in my head. We were seated around the low coffee table in the living room. Noah’s side of the table was a mess of toys and blocks and crayons. He was trying to build something, but I wasn’t sure what. His face was twisted up in concentration with his tongue sticking out like he needed it to think.
I closed my laptop and sat back to watch my son. When I had first arrived back in the States, my first and foremost priority had been finding a job in order to support Noah. I had been so consumed with being able to provide for him that I’d sacrificed on the time spent with him. It was a sad choice to have to make, but it needed to be done. The important thing was that he was healthy and happy, and he was doing well in school.
I glanced up at the wall behind Noah. There was a framed picture of Daphne there, and right next to it was the framed flag I had received at her funeral. Still to this day, I could barely remember much about her funeral or the days that followed. What I did remember was the sound of Noah crying. It was constant and desperate, and there was nothing I could do to calm him down.
“Noah…buddy?” I said. “How has school been going?”
Noah didn’t look up from his blocks. “Good.”
“Yeah?” I said, knowing I had to draw his concentration away from his blocks. “How are your friends?”
“Good.”
“What’s your best friends name again… Jordan?”
“Jaime,” Noah said, giving me a glance.
“That’s right,” I nodded. “How is he?”
“Jaime’s a girl,” he said.
I smiled. “Ah, that’s right, sorry, buddy.”
“Jaime’s mommy makes the yummiest cookies,” Noah told me. “Chocolate chip—and she puts extra chocolate chips in them.”
“Wow, sounds good.”
“I want a cookie now.”
“You’ve already had your treat for today,” I reminded him.
“How do you know?” he asked, looking up at me with his big blue eyes.
“Because Janet told me you did,” I said.
His face fell slightly, and his cheeks drooped. I was sorely tempted to break my own rule and give him something sweet to eat, but I suppressed the urge. That was another thing about being a single parent: you could never take a break from the discipline. There was no way you could drop the ball because you didn’t have a partner to pick up the slack.
I wondered if I’d have been more of a pushover if it weren’t for my army background. I strongly suspected that I would have.
“Jaime’s mommy bought the cookies when she came to school to speak to us,” Noah said, breaking through my thoughts.
“Oh? What did she speak to you about?”
“Her job,” Noah replied. “She’s a…a…pet healer.”
“A veterinarian,” I smiled.
“Yeah that,” he nodded. “But I can’t say that word.”
“You didn’t tell me about career day.”
“Issokay,” he said, combining the two words together. “I told them about you.”
“You did?”
“I told them my daddy was a fighter,” he said. “And, now he sails ships.”
I smiled. “Ah…I was a soldier,” I corrected gently. “And now… Well, I don’t exactly sail ships.”
“You do,” Noah said confidently. “That’s why you’re always gone.”
I felt a little stab of sadness when he said that and more guilt reared its ugly head. “I’m not gone all that much, am I?” I asked, hoping for some vindication.
“I see Janet more than you,” Noah pointed out, turning his attention back to his blocks.
I tried to keep my expression calm and unaffected. “How do you like Janet?”Noah shrugged, and I could see from the pout on his lips that he didn’t really want to answer my question. I set my laptop aside and moved a little closer to him.
“Is she nice to you?” I asked, passing him a red block.
He accepted it silently, and for a second I thought he wasn’t going to answer me. “She’s okay,” Noah said, at last.
“Just okay?” I pressed.
“She makes me food and gives me baths and lets me watch television whenever I want,” he said.
I frowned, not liking that last part. I had given Janet specific instructions before I hired her. Noah was allowed only one sweet treat every other day, and he was allowed a half an hour of television on weekdays and one hour on weekends. His bedtime was eight on weekdays and an hour later on Saturdays and Sundays. Obviously, Janet had chosen to disregard my instructions and do exactly as she pleased.
“She helps me with my homework, too,” Noah said. “Some days... But I want a real mommy.”
I stopped short. “What?”
“I want a real mommy,” he repeated again. “Janet’s not a mommy.”
I paused. “Ah… Noah—”
“Everyone has mommies,” Noah continued. “Jaime and Jesse and Luke and Xander. I only have Janet, and she doesn’t count.”
“Buddy…you had a mommy,” I said gently. “Do you see that picture behind you? That’s your mommy.”
“But she’s not here,” Noah said, glancing behind him at Daphne’s picture.
“No, she’s not,” I said slowly.
“I don’t remember her.”
I sighed. “You were very young when…she left us,” I said, unsure how to say it.
“Why did she leave us?”
I gulped. This was the first time Noah had ever spoken about Daphne directly. This was the first time we were having a real conversation about her. Frankly, I had expected to have to deal with this when Noah was much older.
“She didn’t want to leave us, Noah,” I said. “She didn’t have a choice.”
“A choice?” he repeated like he didn’t understand.
“That’s when you have to do something, whether you like it or not.”
“Like Ted?”
“Ted?” I asked, trying to figure out who that was.
“Ted lived in class with us,” Noah told me. “We fed him and gave him water, but one day he wasn’t moving. So we had to dig a hole in the dirt and put him in it.”
“He was the hamster,” I said, remembering Noah telling me about Ted a few months ago.
“Uh-huh.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s the same thing,” I said, completely unsure if I was saying the right thing. “I’m sure Ted didn’t want to leave, either…like your mom.”
“Why is she wearing that?” Noah asked, looking towards her picture.
I stared at Daphne for a moment. I remembered the day I
had hung up that frame. I had tried desperately to find a shot of her smiling, but that didn’t leave me with very many options. She was wearing her uniform in the picture I had finally chosen. Even though she wasn’t smiling, there was contentment on her face that gave me some measure of peace when I looked at it.
“That was her uniform,” I told Noah. “She was in the army, like me. That was how we met.”
“And then you married?”
“We did,” I nodded. “And then we had you.”
“And then Mommy died?”
He said it so bluntly, as though he had been saying it for years. I had been doing my best the whole time to avoid using that word, thinking it would be too confronting for Noah. But I was probably just projecting.
“Yes,” I said.
“It’s not fair,” he said suddenly. “Tina has two mommies, and I don’t even have one.”
“I know, buddy,” I said gently. “It’s not fair; you’re right.”
Noah looked at me for a second, and then he turned back to his blocks. I felt even more drained after that conversation and considered the possibility of hiring a live-in nanny. Perhaps Noah would benefit from having a woman around all the time. He was obviously missing the feminine energy in his life.
Again, I felt guilty. Was this because of how much I worked? Noah was right; he spent more time with Janet than he did with me. He didn’t have a mother, and he had an absent father to boot—that couldn’t be good for any child.
I felt extremely inadequate at that moment, and I knew I would need to reconsider a few things if I was going to make a difference in Noah’s life. My goal had always been to do my utmost to make sure Noah didn’t miss Daphne’s presence in his life too much, and I had obviously failed miserably at that.
“What are you building, buddy?” I asked, forcing a smile onto my face.
“A ship,” he replied immediately. “Like the ones you sail.”
“I see,” I said. “That’s a nice ship.”
“Thank you,” he replied politely.
I leaned back and watched Noah at his games. I wondered how different our lives would have been had Daphne lived to watch her son grow up. I remembered the first few months after Noah’s birth and felt that familiar darkness engulf me. It had been a very difficult time. And, it had been even worse because I had been completely unprepared for Daphne’s reaction to the birth. I think she had been, too.