by L. P. Dover
Kissing me on the cheek, he squeezed my shoulder and walked out the back door that led to the garden. I could see rows and rows of growing vegetables through the kitchen window, and there were a ton of ripe tomatoes ready to be picked. He was going to be out there for a while.
As Rachel was chopping apples, she turned to me and smiled. “So how long have you known my grandson?” she asked.
My face flushed crimson at the memory of our first meeting, but I sure wasn’t going to tell her that. “I met him about three months ago, but I ran back into him at his company party the other night,” I informed her.
Admiration shone on his grandmother’s face. “Yeah, I’m really proud of my boy. I was so happy when he left for New York, but I was lonely without him here. I didn’t dare tell him that because he wouldn’t have left.”
“Is he your only grandchild?” I asked.
Sighing, she nodded and looked down at her apples. “Yes, he’s my only one. My husband and I thought we would have swarms of children when we got married, but God was only able to bless me with one … a daughter, Brett’s mother.”
Peering around the room, I tried to spot some pictures of what Brett might’ve looked like as a kid growing up. I saw several on the far wall and decided to take a look. There was a group photo with Brett, his grandmother, and what looked to be his parents. He had to be about twelve years old and looked exactly like his mother. She was a beautiful lady with her arm held tightly across his shoulders, smiling from ear to ear.
“Your daughter is very beautiful,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. “She and Brett look so much alike.”
Rachel nodded. “Yes, they do.” Sniffling, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt and began peeling more apples. Oh no, did I say something wrong? Thankfully, I didn’t have to ask because she continued, “When my husband passed away from lung cancer I was prepared for it, but nothing could ever prepare me for what happened to my daughter.”
My ears perked up and I sidled closer to her, taking a seat. “What do you mean?” I asked. “What happened?”
Brett’s grandmother gazed out the window to where he was working in the garden. Smiling sadly, she explained, “I don’t know how much Brett told you of his mother, but she was the sweetest and most loving of anyone I knew. And I’m not saying that because she was my daughter, but when she loved someone, she loved hard.”
Wiping her hands on her apron, she left the kitchen and came back with some photo albums stacked in her arms. She set them down in front of me and opened up the first one. There were baby pictures of Brett everywhere, all chubby and bald headed; he was adorable. As I scanned through the pictures, they were mainly all of him with a lot of them with him and his mother, smiling. There were tons of his birthdays, vacations, school pictures, and all the holidays. All of them appeared to be nothing except happy times. However, they seemed to stop when Brett looked to be about the age of sixteen. There were no more smiles and no more of his mother. The light inside of his eyes was gone and he appeared angry, empty, even when he graduated high school.
When I got to the last few pages, my eyes widened when I saw the last one. It was an obituary for Caroline Rose Walker, Rachel’s daughter and Brett’s mother. She had died at the young age of forty-two, but I couldn’t find a reason as to how she died.
Swallowing hard, I closed the album and rested my hand atop it. Tears glimmered in my eyes because all I could think about was how Brett must’ve felt losing his mother when he was just a teenager. Softly, I muttered, “I’m really sorry about your daughter. I can’t begin to fathom what it would feel like to lose a child, or a mother in this case. Is Brett’s father still alive?”
My mother and father were still happily married, retired, and travelling the world. The last I heard from them they were sailing to Tahiti. I would be devastated if I lost one of them.
Taking a seat beside me, Rachel opened the album to one of the pictures of Brett’s mother and father together. For some reason his father looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. I knew I’d seen him around somewhere before … but where?
Rachel sighed and said, “Yes, Brett’s father is still alive, but he has nothing to do with him. He hasn’t for quite some time now.”
With his arms full of tomatoes, I could see Brett making his way to the house. Quickly, I asked, “Why doesn’t he talk to his father?”
I had a feeling this was one of the things Brett wanted to keep from me, and I felt guilty for trying to pry the answers out of his grandmother, but I wanted to know what put that haunted look in his eyes.
Reluctantly, she closed the album and met my gaze with her soft, brown eyes. “When Caroline died, Brett blamed his father. He’s never forgiven him since.”
Furrowing my brows, I tried to think of a reason why Brett would blame his dad for his mother’s death. Not unless …
When my eyes went wide, Rachel placed a hand over mine and squeezed. “That’s right, child. My daughter didn’t die from natural causes.” She paused and closed her eyes. “She died by taking her own life. When Brett was fifteen years old, she left him here alone, motherless and with a father he blamed for it.”
With the slam of a door, Brett entered the room and my heart broke for him.
Ten
If Brett knew what his grandmother and I were talking about he never let on that he knew. Two weeks had passed and things had slowly turned into a routine for me and him. The first week together we barely saw each other with him working all those long hours, but he made sure to call me every day to let me know he was thinking about me. I spent most of my time with my schoolwork, concentrating on lesson plans, and doing everything possible to avoid my ex-husband.
It was getting to the point that his incessant texting was becoming a problem. I knew Brett needed to know what was going on, but I kept praying that Daniel would get the picture and give up on me. Soon it would come down to him showing up at my house and that was something that could not happen.
The second week Brett and I had been inseparable. To make up for time lost, he had stayed at my place every single night for the past week. Hence, the reason I just stepped out of the shower a happy woman.
On the counter, beside my make-up bag, sat a steaming cup of coffee. Brett was leaning in the doorway—dressed impeccably in a gray suit that matched his eyes—and stared at me over the rim of his cup.
“You’re spoiling me, firecracker. I’m starting to like being able to see you every morning,” he admitted, a smile stretching across his face.
Sidling up to him, I kissed him gently on the lips and could taste the French vanilla coffee that he made us every single morning. “I’m starting to like it, too,” I said, taking my own cup and drinking a sip. He’d already added in the sugar and cream to it as well, and from the grin on his face he knew I noticed it.
“I think you’re starting to spoil me, too,” I countered. “A girl could get used to this kind of treatment.” Not only were we waking up together every morning, but we were also enjoying every night together. Brett and I have had more sex in the past two weeks than my ex and I had the whole time we were married, which honestly wasn’t that long; a little less than two years.
Brett gazed up and down my body and I could see that it made him happy … literally. He groaned and ran his hands over my wet breasts. “If I didn’t have to go into work early, I would lick all this water off of you and fuck you till you couldn’t walk.” He grabbed my towel and began drying off my body, starting with my arms and working down to my legs. I jumped when his fingers slipped inside me and just as quickly pulled out.
“Sorry about that. I couldn’t help myself,” he teased sarcastically.
“Mmhmm …” I mumbled. “Somehow I don’t believe that.”
When he got done drying me off and fondling me, he glanced at his watch and sighed. “All right, baby, my time is up. I’ll call you during lunch today, okay?”
I smiled. “Okay.”
He kissed me quickl
y, making sure to part my lips with his tongue so he could get a taste of me before he left. “I hope you have a good day, firecracker. And don’t let those high school boys drool over you today. I saw what you have picked out to wear.”
Rolling my eyes, I pushed him out of the bathroom. “It’s just a skirt, Brett. I’m not an old school marm and into the sweater vests. Maybe when I’m older, but definitely not right now.”
He grinned and shook his head. “All I know is that if I was in your class, I’d have the biggest hard on watching you every day in the front of the class. You’re one hot fucking teacher.” He winked, kissed me again quickly, and marched out of the bedroom and into the hall.
“Have a good day and be safe going to work,” I hollered out, hoping he heard me.
“Will do, babe,” he shouted back before the sound of him opening and closing the front door echoed from downstairs. I could hear the rumble of his Jeep start up and taper off after a few minutes. It was time to get ready for another day of work.
Eleven
“Ms. Ashford, do we need to know all of this for the test next week?” Kacey asked, holding up the study questions I just passed out.
I smiled. “Yes, Kacey, you do. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have put it on there. As long as you know how to answer those questions you’ll ace the test. I promise.”
The whole class groaned as they glanced over the pages, and it took all I had not to laugh. I remembered being their age and doing the same thing, but I always cracked open the books and made straight A’s. That was how I became valedictorian and student council president.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I saw that we had about ten minutes before my guest speaker was to arrive to talk to the class. His name was George Hastings and he was an author and college professor from Duke University who also happened to be a good friend of my parents. I thought my students would be enlightened by his expertise in the Biology field, but by their bored expressions I was starting to rethink that anything could get them interested.
I only had a few minutes left, so I was trying to get all of my students quizzes graded. That way I wouldn’t have to take them home and do them. Once I started on the last quiz a knock sounded on my classroom door.
Keeping my face glued to the test in front of me, I called out to one of my students, “Jacob, do you mind opening the door for Mr. Hastings, please?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him get up and amble over to the door.
My pen flew across the page in front of me, but when I heard the voice of my guest speaker greet the class my hand froze on the page and I sucked in a sharp breath. Quickly, I lifted my head and my gaze instantly collided with the man before me. What was he doing here?
“Good morning, Ms. Ashford. Are you ready for me to begin my speech?” he asked.
My students, especially the girls, were all anxiously awaiting his next words like love sick puppies. Standing up from my desk, I quickly announced to the class, “Everyone, if you’ll excuse me I’ll be right back.” Taking Brett by the arm, I guided him out of my room and into the hall, shutting the door behind me.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered. “Did you sign in at the front desk?”
Brett chuckled. “Of course I did. I said I was here to see you and they said they thought I couldn’t make it. I didn’t know what the hell they were talking about, but apparently, your speaker isn’t coming and the office neglected to tell you. I said that I was his replacement and they let me right on through.”
“Hmm …” I grumbled. “I can’t believe they let you back here without asking you more questions.”
“It must be the suit. The ladies can’t resist me,” he joked. “So how about it?”
I furrowed my brows and asked, “So how about what exactly?”
“You had a speaker planned for today right?”
“Yes … and your point?”
He opened his arms and winked at me. “Well, here I am,” Brett insisted. “I’ll be your speaker for the day. What are you teaching them right now?”
It just so happened that the branch of Biology I was skimming over could very easily be something Brett knew a lot about. “I am going over a little bit of environmental biology this week,” I informed him.
His eyes lit up. “Well, it just so happens that I had to study that at Columbia.” Grabbing me by the hand, he pulled me to the door. “Come on, this should be fun.”
I snickered. “Yeah, I can’t wait.”
Twelve
The whole time Brett spoke, the class was enamored by him, given the exception of a few of the guys who didn’t like the reaction the girls were giving Brett. I wasn’t shocked to see that he was an amazing speaker and very charismatic. He had a vast knowledge of environmental biology and he even went into detail about his times at Columbia and what it took to study architecture. When the class was over, a couple of the guys in my class pulled Brett aside and asked him numerous questions on how they could pursue a career in architecture as well.
I was amazed at the level of influence he had over my students. Maybe I should have him speak again, I thought to myself. When all of the students left the classroom, I took a seat back at my desk while Brett leaned against it.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I inquired, “Honestly, what made you come by today? It couldn’t be that you missed me considering that you saw me just a few short hours ago.”
He beamed. “Well … of course I miss you when I’m not with you, but I actually have some good news.”
“What is it?” I asked excitedly, perking up.
He took my hands in his and pulled me up against his body. “I just landed a huge account today and I couldn’t wait to tell you. This is going to be big, Melissa.”
Squealing, I jumped in his arms and wrapped my arms tight around his neck. “Oh, Brett, that’s awesome news, but aren’t you doing West Coast accounts?”
He nodded. “Yeah, it’ll be out in California.”
My face fell just a tiny bit and I tried to hide it. If he had a big account in California I knew what that was going to mean; he was going to be spending a lot of time out there. Instead of raining on his parade I did my best to appear cheerful.
“We should celebrate,” I told him. “Tonight will be all about you. What do you say to that?” And I will make it a good night for his sake.
With a devilish grin, Brett said, “I say yes, baby. I look forward to it.”
Before going home, I stopped by the store and grabbed everything I’d need to make dinner. I told Brett the night was going to be for him and I meant it, even though deep down I knew that his job was going to be taking him away from me for a while.
After preparing our celebration feast, I sat down to enjoy a glass of wine. Brett usually arrived at my house by six every evening so I had a little time to spare. When my phone rang beside me, I should’ve known to look at the screen before answering, but I didn’t. Big mistake.
“Hello,” I answered, taking a sip of my wine.
“It’s about damn time you answer my calls,” Daniel scolded. “Why do you keep ignoring me?”
Groaning, I sagged in my chair and downed my glass of wine. I was going to need it to handle him. “Daniel,” I said smoothly, trying to keep my temper in check. The last thing I wanted was to be pissed when Brett got here. “We’ve been over this before. I have no interest in getting hurt by you again. You screwed up and there’s no way you can take what you did back.”
“I said I was sorry, Mel. Please give me a second chance. I really need to tell you something and I don’t want to do it over the phone. Can I come over?”
A car door slammed outside, so I rushed over to one of the front windows. Brett was right on time and walking to the front door. “You can’t,” I blurted out quickly. “Look, Daniel, I’m seeing someone now and I’d really appreciate it if you left me alone and stopped calling me. I have to go.”
He screamed into the phone, “Melis
sa, wait!” I hung up the phone and turned it off. Daniel was a persistent man, and if he needed to see me he would make sure it happened. If it came down to that I was going to have to tell Brett what Daniel was trying to do.
Taking a deep, calming breath, I opened the door for Brett and was immediately swooped into his arms with his lips locked to mine. When he set me down, he removed his blue tie and unbuttoned his white dress shirt while closing his eyes and breathing in. “The house smells amazing, firecracker.”
“Thank you,” I remarked, taking his hand and leading him into the kitchen. I tried to put all thoughts of Daniel out of my mind and how his calling all the time could put a strain on mine and Brett’s relationship. But that was one of the last things on my mind at the moment. My main concern was all the traveling Brett was going to be doing soon.
As we sat down to eat our roasted chicken, potatoes, and salad, Brett watched me intently, studying me the whole time. “Melissa, what’s wrong? I can see that something’s wrong by the expression on your face. I might not have seen it much, but I can read it just as easily.”
Sighing, I shook my head and lowered my gaze. What was I supposed to say? I’m scared that you’ll be spending ungodly amounts of time across the states from me? Had I really become that needy? No, it’s just that you’re falling hard for him.
“You can tell me,” Brett said softly. “I need you to open up to me and be honest. I want to know what’s going on.”
Releasing a heavy sigh, I decided to just come right out and say what was on my mind, even if it did sound selfish. I explained, “I’m afraid that when you do this job that you’ll be spending a majority of your time on the West Coast. I was just concerned about what it would do to us … to our relationship if you were away for a long period of time. I’ve never done the long distance thing before.”
Brett stared at me for the longest time before he burst out laughing. I sat there dumbfounded, wondering why he’d be laughing; I didn’t find anything about it funny. “I’m glad you find this so hilarious,” I snapped, getting up from the table. Brett got up too and tried to calm me down, but I pushed him away and headed straight for the bedroom, taking the whole bottle of wine with me.