“Well, that could be embarrassing for them.” Lois was checking the bruises on her arm from the multiple IV sticks they’d attempted before getting a good vein.
“At first I didn’t recognize him,” Mia went on.
“You knew him?
“Who was it?” Bob Silver stared at his daughter.
“It was…” she paused.
“Oh, just spit it out, Mia.” Lois was losing patience with her daughter, assuming Mia was merely being dramatic.
“It was Tom Sheehan.”
Lois’s hand flew to her mouth and for a moment Mia thought her mother was about to be sick. Lois had never liked Tom, feeling he was inappropriate for her daughter, as he was ten years her senior.
Silently, Bob lowered himself into a chair.
The Silvers remained speechless until Mia finally broke the silence. “Yeah. I know.”
“That’s disgusting.” The look on Bob Silver’s face said it all.
Looking to her mom, who usually had a comment about everything, Mia observed the silenced Lois.
“So, that’s what Schooner is understandably upset about,” she explained.
“Well, I should say so,” Lois finally regained her voice. “Was it the first time he’s met Tom?”
“Yes.” Mia nodded.
“He knew about him, though, and your involvement, correct?”
Again, Mia nodded.
“And he didn’t kill him?” This time it was Bob’s question.
“Surprisingly, no. He threw the two of them out of the loft and changed the elevator code, so no one can enter while we’re gone. Which really isn’t fair to Holly. She’s got all her stuff in the loft. But I know he didn’t want Tom there and he certainly didn’t want the two of them there together, in our home.”
“I’m shocked,” Lois began. “Yet, I’m not. The man has always had a predilection for very young women.” She shook her head. “At least Holly’s legal.” Lois gave Mia a pointed look, reminding her now forty-something daughter that she had begun her relationship with the man prior to being of a legal age.
Again, the Silvers lapsed into silence and uncharacteristically it was Bob who was the first to speak. “So, what are you going to do about this?”
“What can we do, Dad? Holly’s a grown woman. We can’t dictate whom she sees and doesn’t see. We may not like it, but we can’t do anything about it.”
Bob nodded, and then surprised Mia and Lois with his next suggestion. “Get her mother into town. She’ll take care of it.”
“CJ?” Mia questioned, the distaste from merely verbalizing her husband’s exes’ name, the woman who had caused Schooner and Mia’s twenty-four-year separation, made the petite brunette appear as if a fetid odor hung heavy in the air.
“Yes,” Bob’s response was almost a whisper. “CJ will take care of this.”
Mia looked from her mother, lying in the hospital bed, back to her father, and somewhere deep in the pit of her stomach she feared the past, her past, Schooner’s past, and CJ’s past might end up laying their sins squarely on the feet of the next generation.
“Have you heard from Holly?”
Schooner nodded, his usual lively, oceanic-blue eyes appearing darker than usual in the restaurant’s subdued light. “Yeah, she wanted the elevator code to get her stuff out of the loft.”
“Oh God, I hope she doesn’t move in with him.”
“I hope she does.” Schooner could clearly see on Mia’s face her shock to his response.
“You can’t be serious?” The stiffening of her spine said it all, and when she pushed away her half-eaten plate of crab cakes, that was the exclamation point.
“I’m totally serious. How old is that guy again?” That guy. He couldn’t even say Tom’s name.
Mia could see Schooner’s brain churning. “Umm,” she hesitated for a moment, “he’s eight years older than you.”
His typically vibrant smile looked more like a sneer as he let out a solemn laugh. “Yeah, well, good luck to him having a twenty-something living in his space. That novelty will wear off quickly.” And then he smiled, his real smile. “I don’t think we’re going to be stressing out about whether or not we’ll have to invite him to Thanksgiving.”
“You don’t think they’ll make it that long?”
“Oh God, no. He’s going to be gift wrapping her and returning her to us and probably paying us to take her back. There is no way having a millennial invade his apartment full-time, especially when he is not used to them, except for in the classroom,” Schooner sneered again, “and in his bedroom.”
Mia just shook her head looking worried. “I hope you’re right.”
Pointing at Mia, he smiled. “Just don’t you give me any shit about having to invite him to Po’s birthday party, because he is not invited. And don’t tell me I’m disrespecting Holly. I don’t want to see this guy again.”
Holding up her hands in a sign of surrender, Mia laughed. “I can guarantee you no shit from me.”
“You said we wouldn’t have to do this and you lied.” Mia joined Schooner on the couch.
Schooner laughed. “And you know how I hate being wrong. Especially in this case.”
“So, does he get an invite or not?” Mia knew what her answer was, but this was Schooner’s call.
“I don’t want him here, Baby Girl. I really don’t. But I don’t want Holly to ever feel that she is not welcome to spend Thanksgiving with her own family.”
Just looking at her husband, Mia knew the battle she was seeing rage in his eyes was probably nothing in comparison to the war being waged in his heart. Schooner Moore loved his kids and the strain between him and Holly hung over him relentlessly and had for months. Nothing would be right in his world until his relationship with his beloved first-born was repaired. This standoff had to end.
“Let me cheer you up with this thought.” Mia’s smile said it all. “Lois hates Tom. She has always hated Tom. Now that Lois is a senior, she says whatever the hell she wants. Not that she had a huge filter when she was younger, but she is much more brazen now. Trust me, Tom Sheehan does not want to see my mother and does not want to be in the same room with her.”
Slinging his arm over her shoulder and pulling her to him, he smiled as he said, “Baby Girl, you always know how to make me feel better. God, I love Lois.”
“Well, lucky for you, Pretty Boy, she has always loved you. From day one, that woman has adored you.”
“I would not want to be on her bad side,” he mused.
“Not possible.” Laughing at the memory, she shared, “Every week when she used to call me, she’d ask, ‘How’s that sweet boy?’”
“And what would you tell her?”
“I’d tell her, ‘How the hell should I know. I’m not friends with him. He’s a jock.’”
Tucking her feet under her on the couch, Mia got comfortable against her husband. With her nose buried in his cotton shirt, she couldn’t help but close her eyes and breathe in his clean scent. Ah, my own personal aromatherapy for stress relief and relaxation, she thought as she smiled into his shirt.
Only a moment had passed when Mia popped up in his arms, her face a portrait of astonishment. “You’re going to think I’m batshit crazy, but I think we should also invite CJ to Thanksgiving.”
“Have you lost your mind, woman?” Schooner couldn’t believe his ears. Did Mia just actually suggest inviting CJ to Thanksgiving?
“No. Seriously, listen to me.” She swatted his muscular arm.
“You have my rapt attention. Trust me.”
“When we were down in Florida, right after we found out about Holly and Tom, I was telling my parents the news. Well, my Dad’s response was really interesting and baffling and I don’t know why I didn’t question him on it, but I didn’t.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Get her mother into town. She’ll take care of it.’” Mia paused, “Do we know how much CJ knows, Schooner?”
He shook his head. “I
haven’t spoken to her in a while and we don’t know what Holly’s told her.”
“Let me call her and invite her.” Mia knew she was shocking her husband with every statement she made. In what universe would she ever call CJ to invite her to a family function? It had been a while since they’d seen her. But even that wasn’t long enough.
Sitting very still and staring at his wife with a half-smile, Schooner wondered if he was being punked. “Why do I feel like I’m going to wake up any moment, roll over, and wake you to tell you about this weird dream I had?”
Shaking her head, Mia pulled Schooner’s arm into her lap, gently rubbing his forearm where his sleeve was rolled up. “We are just going to need to keep everybody very drunk.”
“Baby Girl, they are all on their own. The only person I need to keep drunk is me. Just promise to dump me in bed when I pass out.” Schooner was just beginning to process what they’d discussed. “I’m going to need to go into L9 that morning and get a serious workout in just to be able to deal with this.”
“Maybe you need to go do yoga that morning, so you can get all Namaste for our guests. Killing guests at Thanksgiving is not in good form. Number one no-no in the how-to-be-a-good-host manual.”
“Why are we doing this? Do you hate me that much?” he kidded.
Laughing, Mia lifted his hand to her lips, softly kissing his knuckles. “This is definitely going to be a shit storm. My money is on CJ.”
“You’re a smart cookie. And a brave one, too.” Putting his arm back around Mia’s shoulders, he pulled her to him, and kissing the top of her head, he silently prayed they would come out of the holiday without family fractures that were beyond repair.
Closing the door to her office for privacy, Mia paced in front of the window, taking deep breaths as she mindlessly gazed at the Freedom Tower. There were very few people on the planet that could provoke an anxiety attack, and CJ MacAllister-Moore-Gordon was at the top of that list. Every insecurity about being a teen, and being different, surfaced with the force of a whale breaching the ocean’s surface when it came to CJ. In her own mind, Mia would always be the curly-haired outcast with glasses and CJ would always be the blonde prom queen who got the guy. And in their particular version of this tale, said guy was one Schooner Moore.
Finally, she picked up her phone, put it on speaker and dialed.
“Hello.”
Mia’s stomach knotted just hearing her voice. He doesn’t love you. You’re just a charity case to him.
“CJ, hi, it’s Mia.”
“Mia?” The tone of her voice was saying who?
“Mia Moore.” Two words that she never thought she’d be saying to CJ.
“Oh… Mia… Silver.”
Don’t even acknowledge that, Mia consciously told herself, as she took a breath and got to the point of the call.
“We are putting together our plans for Thanksgiving and I know Holly and Zac would love to have the opportunity to spend it with you. So, we’d like to invite you and Beau to New York to join us.”
Mia did not expect total silence, and when CJ did not respond, she asked, “CJ, are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here,” and she went silent again.
Awkward.
“CJ, is everything okay?”
“Yes, everything is fine. I’m just surprised by this call, Mia. Obviously, you can understand that. And why are you the one calling me and not Schooner?”
“I told Schooner that I would like to reach out to you.”
“Why?”
“Because Thanksgiving is a family holiday. My Mom had a heart attack over the summer and that was very sobering for me. People you think are just going to always be there, may not be one day. And Holly and Tom and Zac and Lily will all be here for the holiday, and Schooner and I thought it would be nice for them if you were here, too.”
CJ laughed. “Schooner was not thinking that, Mia. We both know that. But I would love to spend the holiday with my children. Did you say that Holly’s boyfriend is going to be there?”
“Tom. Yes, he’ll be here.” Mia was biting her tongue. Bait taken.
“I’m looking forward to meeting him. She hasn’t been very forthcoming with information about him.”
“No?” A war was being waged between Mia’s brain and her mouth. This could all go sideways very easily and very quickly.
“No. All she’s told me is that he’s an English professor.”
“Yes. Yes, he is.” Score one for the brain. Keep out of this, mouth.
“You’ve met him?”
Mia knew right then and there that mouth didn’t stand a chance. It was a losing battle.
“Yes. We’ve met him.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Is he a nice guy? What’s he like? Does he treat Holly well?”
“So, what exactly has she told you?”
“That he teaches Screenwriting at NYU’s film school.”
“What else?” Mia was praying that Holly had told her something, anything.
“Nothing, she’s been very close-mouthed about it. It makes coming in for Thanksgiving appealing, so I can finally meet this mystery man of my daughter’s.”
This time the silence was on Mia’s end. She couldn’t just tell her. CJ had to ask.
“Mia, are you there?”
“Yes. I’m here.”
“Am I going to like this man?”
Staring out her office window, the single word was out of her mouth long before she was able to process the thought. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?” ripped the edge in CJ’s voice.
“Well, he’s a bit older than Holly.”
Staring at the Freedom Tower, Mia could not help but miss the two sentinels that had been its predecessor. She still yearned every day, each time she looked out the window, expecting them, like two arms reaching toward the sky, to embrace her, just as they had done since childhood. They had watched over her that day as she walked home to get the file inadvertently left on the dining table. The day she caught Tom and threw him out, but not until after she’d heaved his fuck partner’s clothes out the window onto 14th Street, sixteen floors below.
“How much older?”
“He’s older than you.” Mia didn’t want to tell her how much.
“What?” CJ’s tone went shrill. “What else do I need to know about this man, Mia? This is my daughter.”
“Well, there is something.” Mia focused on a cloud floating past the tower.
“Just spit it out.” She was clearly annoyed and not hiding it.
“I knew Tom years ago,” Mia began.
“And?”
“And we were involved.”
“Why don’t you define involved?” It was obvious CJ was speaking through clenched teeth.
“It was a very long time ago.” Mia forced herself to deliver the killing blow. Even though it was CJ, there was just no joy in this situation. “We lived together.”
“So, you are telling me my daughter is involved with your ex-lover?”
“Yes.”
“What the hell is wrong with you people? And Schooner is allowing this?”
“CJ, Schooner and I are not happy about this. But Holly is over twenty-one. What can we really do?”
“So, you just allow your ex-lover and my daughter to hang out in your home?”
“Actually, no. Tom hasn’t been welcome there, but we don’t want Holly to feel she doesn’t have a family.”
“So, she just doesn’t bring him there?”
“Well, actually, she doesn’t live here. Schooner threw the two of them out when we found them here.”
“So, where is she living? Is she living with him?
“Yes.”
“And my ex-husband has allowed this?”
Mia could picture the disbelief on CJ’s face.
“Again, Holly is an adult. And to be honest with you, Schooner thought that Tom having a twenty-something in his space would hasten the end of th
is relationship. Neither of us thought he’d be at our Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Well, that clearly was a miscalculation.”
“Yes, it was.”
“How did you know him, Mia?”
There was no way to deliver this delicately and Mia wasn’t sure delicate was best anyway. Just drop the bomb. Boom. Do it.
“He was a professor of mine in college.”
“So, he has a penchant for young girls?”
“Yes.”
“No wonder why she’s kept him such a mystery. And I had no idea she wasn’t living with you.”
“So, we will see you and Beau for Thanksgiving?”
CJ waited a few beats too long before answering. “No. It will just be me. Beau and I have separated. I’ve filed for divorce.”
Boom. The bombs were freely flying. The shit storm had already begun.
Thanksgiving into Winter
“YOU’RE UP BEFORE THE kids.” Schooner came up behind Mia, bending to kiss her neck as she surveyed the perfectly set holiday table. “You did a really beautiful job.” There was a hint of surprise in his voice as he complimented his wife. Mia excelled at many things; however, domestic goddess was not near the top of that list.
“It needs something,” she insisted, not turning her sights away from the table.
“People?” Schooner ventured.
“No.” She shook her head, then turned to Schooner and smiled. “We want to be without people for as long as possible.”
“That’s for damn sure. I’m heading over to L9 to run the SkyTrack. I’ll be back in plenty of time to take the kids up to the parade. Anything you need me to pick up on the way home?” He pressed the elevator button.
“I can’t think of anything. I’ll text you if I do.” Her back was to him as she once again stood motionless, staring at the table.
Nothing felt right about today. Nothing at all.
“Mommy.”
Hearing Portia’s voice, Mia turned immediately. “Hi sweetie, what are you doing up so early?”
“I heard Daddy. Is it time to go to the parade?” Only a trace of her beautiful English accent was left, matching just the mere trace of memories from her years in an orphanage in Zambia, before Mia and Schooner adopted her.
Moore than a Feeling Page 3