by Marisa Logan
He stared me down, grinning. It was clear he wasn't going to let up. “So, who was Irvine? Boy at your school? Teacher? Online friend?”
I looked away, laughing at my own foolishness. “Actually...he was a video game character.”
“Oh.” Tom stared at me for a moment, then burst out laughing.
I laughed as well. “Look, he had this cowboy thing going on, and it used to get me all hot and bothered, okay?”
We had a fit of giggles for a few moments. “It's okay,” Tom said. “I'm sure he was no more unobtainable for you than Mrs. Stevens was for me.”
He reached out and his fingers brushed against mine. I clasped his hand and looked up at him. My giggles started to subside, leaving me feeling warm and energized. Our eyes met.
Then he kissed me.
He pulled me close in the cramped confines between the pine trees. I reached up and cupped his face in my hands. His lips were soft and his chin rough with just a bit of stubble. His arms wrapped around me and held me close. We shared a moment there, under the trees, like I hadn't experienced in a very long time.
The moment ended when we heard some kids racing by and shouting. We pulled apart, both smiling and laughing. I peeked through the branches to see if we'd been caught.
“Wow,” I said.
“Wow, indeed.” He held my hand, studying my face as if seeing me for the first time all over again.
We didn't talk about it right then. It felt best just to savor the moment. Though by unspoken agreement we decided to slip back out of the trees and rejoin the group before anyone noticed we were missing.
As we were circling back around the pines, Kimmy caught sight of us. I looked at her, blushing, while I plucked a few stray pine needles from my hair. Tom coughed and looked down at his feet.
“Well, well, well,” Kimmy said, stalking towards us with her hands on her hips and a grin on her face. “Amy Marie Loch, have you been fooling around in the bushes with my fake boyfriend?”
Chapter 5
When Tom was checking on TJ after the Easter egg hunt, Kimmy pulled me off to the side, out of earshot of everyone else. “So, what's going on?” she asked. “I thought you said he was just someone who came to the museum once.”
“He is, or, he was.” I buried my face in my hands. “Argh! I don't know. It just happened but he's so...”
“Cute?” Kimmy asked, looking across the way to study him. “I mean, he obviously doesn't do anything for me, but you do you, honey.”
“It's not that,” I said. “I mean, he is kinda cute. But it's more that he's so sweet, and smart, and he seems like such a good father. I don't know.” I wasn't sure where I was going with this, except that I was hoping the path led to more kissing.
“So are you going to see him again?” Kimmy asked. “Or is this just a little Easter fling. Which if it is, I'm totally supportive of it. Sometimes you just need a little action to relieve the holiday stress.”
I smacked her on the arm, laughing. “Stop it! I'm not looking for an 'Easter fling.' God, he has a kid for chrissakes.”
“So, make sure to give him your number. Or better yet, invite him to your birthday.”
“Oh, no. I'm not doing a birthday party this year.”
“What?” Kimmy crossed her arms and stared me down. “Look, girl, I don't care what you say. I'm not going to see you again for months. We're going drinking for your birthday.”
“Technically my birthday is next week,” I said. My birthday was always near Easter, though since Easter was on a random Sunday each year and its position on the calendar could only be understood by mastering quantum physics, I never knew if my birthday would actually fall on Easter or not.
“Technically, schmecnically. You're drinking with me tomorrow before you go home, and we're having cake. In fact...”
She grinned when she saw Tom and TJ returning. TJ held the bottom of his shirt folded up like a basket, with a pile of plastic eggs nestled inside. He was using his free hand to open the eggs and sort through the candy inside.
“Tom!” Kimmy said, giving him a hug. “So since you and Amy are 'getting along' so well, she wanted to invite you to her birthday party tomorrow. Cake, beer, and plenty of good music. You game?”
“I'd love to,” Tom said. “Just tell me when and where.” He smiled at me in a way that made me feel warm, and I felt all of my protests dying on my tongue.
“Tomorrow night, my place, and whatever time you get done work. Say, six, six-thirty?”
“I'll be there,” Tom said.
Kimmy gave Tom her home address, grinning at me the entire time. I gave her the death glare, torn between being irritated with her for trapping me like this, and glad that she'd gotten me a date with Tom.
The rest of the day was uneventful as the gathering slowly wound down. There was no more hanky panky between Tom and I, especially since he still had to keep up with the pretense that he was here as Kimmy's date. Though at the end of the day, he walked me to my car, while TJ was busy saying goodbye to the friends he'd made.
“I'm glad we ran into each other here,” he said, taking my hand. “And I'm really looking forward to tomorrow.”
“Me too. Though don't expect much of a party. It'll probably just be us, plus Kimmy and her girlfriend.”
“Ahh, yes. The girlfriend who couldn't come today.” He frowned and shook his head. “It's a shame Kimmy has to hide so much. You'd think we'd be past that by now.”
I shrugged. “It is what it is. She doesn't hide who she is anywhere else. It's just to avoid family drama.”
“Well, I hope that if things work out between you and me, we don't blow her cover.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Oh, yeah, I can just see it now. 'Hey, Amy, isn't your date the guy Kimmy brought at Easter?' Oh my.”
He laughed as well, then we shared a moment of comfortable silence. He took both of my hands in his, then leaned forward. I met him halfway, letting my lips brush against his just for a moment.
When we parted, I glanced across the parking lot and saw TJ staring at us. I swallowed a lump in my throat, but kept my mouth shut. Considering what the boy had been through lately, I didn't know how he'd react to his dad meeting someone new. Though I figured it would be best to leave that discussion to Tom.
“I'll see you tomorrow night,” Tom said. He squeezed my hands one last time, then turned and left.
I watched him go, then I loaded my cooler, filled now with the leftovers I'd snagged, into the back of my car. I drove back to Mom's house, my thoughts filled with ideas of what tomorrow night would bring.
Chapter 6
I stood in Kimmy's kitchen the next night with a beer in one hand and a tube of mint-green cake decorating gel in the other. “This is stupid,” I said. “He's going to think this is stupid.”
“He won't care,” Allison said. I hadn't met Kimmy's new girlfriend before, but we'd hit it off just fine as soon as I came over. “He's not here for the cake. He's here for you.”
“It should say 'Happy Easter' too,” Kimmy said. She leaned over from her seat on top of the kitchen counter and dragged her finger through the edge of the cake, scooping off some icing.
I smacked her hand away. “Wait until Tom gets here, sheesh!”
I looked down at the cake, where I'd already written “Happy Birthday.” We'd bought the cake twenty minutes ago, and decided that it would be cheaper and more “fun” to decorate it ourselves. So far, it was covered in a mess of candy confetti and bright pink sugar. I'd scrawled on the “Happy Birthday” as best as I could, but I'd run out of space, leaving the “d,” the “a,” and the “y” lopsided and curving around the edge of the cake.
“This looks so lame.”
“Gimme,” Kimmy said, hopping down off the counter as she sucked the icing off her finger. She took the tube of gel and scrawled “Happy Easter” on the cake in her smooth, cursive handwriting.
“Great, that looks even worse,” I said.
“Screw you too, hon!”
Kimmy said, smacking my arm.
“I think it looks fine,” Allison said.
“Sure, her part does,” I said. “But now it makes mine look even lamer.”
The doorbell rang.
“Oh God.” I smoothed my shirt, then cursed when I realized I'd just smeared green gel all over it. I hadn't had any nice clothes to wear, since I'd only packed for the family gathering, not a date. I'd worn my Steam Powered Giraffe t-shirt, and now there was a big green smear over the co-lead singer Rabbit's face.
“Here, we got this,” Allison said. She led me to the sink and started scrubbing the gel out with a damp paper towel, while Kimmy went to answer the door.
We were still patting my shirt dry when Kimmy led Tom into the kitchen. He was carrying a bottle of wine. “Happy birthday,” he said, handing it to me.
“Aww, thank you,” I said. I gave him a kiss, then turned my attention back to the cake. “As you can see, you arrived right in the middle of our grand decorating fiasco.”
“Well, it looks delicious,” he said. He took the wine bottle back from me and started opening it. “I hope you don't mind if this is something of a double-celebration tonight. I just got some good news.”
“Oh?”
“Yup. My divorce is finally finalized. I just got the papers today.”
“Woohoo!” I said, throwing my hands up in the air. “Now I don't have to deal with the awkward explanations about how I'm dating a married man.”
We all laughed. Kimmy took the decorating gel again and said, “We can squeeze in one more bit of celebration.”
She scrawled “Merry Divorce” across the bottom, underneath “Happy Birthday” and “Happy Easter.” Tom look at it and laughed.
“I'm definitely eating that piece,” he said.
Allison put on some music while we sliced the cake and poured some drinks. We danced with plates of cake in one hand and plastic forks in the other. As birthday parties went, it was all I ever wanted, especially considering the guy I was dancing with. Neither one of us could actually dance, and we kept blushing and giving each other awkward smiles while we shuffled about Kimmy's living room.
As the night wore on, Kimmy and Allison started making out. Then they slipped back into Kimmy's bedroom, while Kimmy paused to give me a conspiratorial wink. I blushed and glanced at Tom, who was sitting on the couch now, nursing a glass of wine.
Once we were alone together, I turned the music down, then sat next to him.
“So,” I said.
“So,” he said. “Happy birthday. You're, what, twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?”
I laughed and smacked him on the knee. “Dork. No, I'm thirty-mmphrmphhmm.”
“Ahh,” he said, nodding sagely. “A wise old age indeed. I hope you don't care that I'm only twenty- mmphrmphhmm.”
I snickered and shook my head. “No. I'm fine with dating a guy who's mmphrmphhmm years younger than me.” I turned towards him with a flirtatious smile.
“And a guy who has a kid?” he asked, his expression turning serious. He played with the stem of his wine glass, looking down at his lap.
I took his face in my hands and turned it towards me. “Just means I already know you're a great father.”
I kissed him, and he set down the wine glass to take me in his arms. We made out there on the sofa like a couple of teenagers, while I was sure Kimmy and Allison were in the bedroom doing quite a bit more. I wasn't sure how far I wanted to go so soon, but when Tom started caressing me, I knew I wanted something.
My hands softly explored him, bringing a moan. Tom looked at me with wide eyes, eager but hesitant.
I smiled encouragingly and while the music played on in the background and we started a different type of dance.
Chapter 7
Over the next few weeks, Tom and I were a regular thing. On weeknights, we made dates at places halfway between my town and his, so we each only had to drive about a half hour or forty-five minutes to see each other. On most weekends, he spent his time with his son, though on any weekend he was free, he drove out to visit me. Other times we simply talked on the phone, or texted, or video chatted. And the more time that passed, the more I felt I was craving his company each and every day.
Once we were sure the relationship was actually going somewhere, Tom brought up the idea of me coming down on one of TJ's visitation weekends. “He really likes you,” he said over the phone, while I sat in my apartment, working on a painting. “He keeps asking about you, and he's excited that I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh, I'm your girlfriend now?” I laughed as I teased him. “That's the first time you've called me that.”
“Well, it's true, isn't it?”
“Yes,” I said, a rather pleased smile on my face. “Yes, it is indeed.”
“So, you should come down this weekend.”
I thought about it. Weekends could be an iffy time for me. I worked a lot of weekends, since that was when the museum was busiest. But I could easily get a couple of days off. I'd been working so many extra hours over the last few months, keeping up with all the extra work we had while we were short-staffed, that I had earned some time off. “Are you sure you want me intruding on your father/son time?”
“I'm sure,” Tom said. “And so is TJ. He keeps asking when you'll be coming down. He wants to spend some time with you.”
“All right then,” I said. “It's a date.”
That Saturday, I drove down to visit with Tom and TJ. We took TJ out to lunch, then to the movies. I suggested the latest comic book film, and pretended I'd only chosen it for TJ's sake. I was a hardcore geek, but sometimes I wasn't ready to admit that I'd rather watch a Marvel movie than some cheesy romantic comedy.
After the movie we went back to Tom's place. He had a two-bedroom apartment; he'd let his ex-wife keep the house after the divorce, so that TJ would have a good, stable place to live with her. Tom ordered a pizza, and while we ate, TJ bombarded me with questions about my work.
“Have you fixed that big clock yet?” he asked. “I've been reading about clocks online. Did you know that there's an atomic clock in Colorado?”
“I've heard about that.” I wiped the pizza grease from my fingers with a napkin. “But as for our clock, no. I asked at the museum, and they said it's going to cost something like fifteen or twenty thousand dollars to fix it. We don't have that kind of money.” If we did, I silently added, we could afford to hire a second janitor.
“Can't you do like, a fundraiser or something?” TJ asked. “We did a fundraiser at school to get a new auditorium.”
“That's actually not a bad idea,” Tom said. “If you generate some press, you could raise enough money to pay for the repairs. I might be able to help with my industry contacts.”
I thought it over, toying with the napkin between my fingers. “Actually, now that you mention it, there's one thing that might work. I'm going to the Steampunk World's Fair in a few weeks. I bet I could find a lot of people there who would want to help fix the clock tower.”
Tom snorted and said, “You could do a Back to the Future theme. 'Save the clock tower!'”
“Back to the Future III was kind of steampunky,” I said, mulling it over. “I'll have to make a few phone calls. I know some people at the fair, since I always rent a vendor table there. I could probably add the fundraiser to my table. Add the sales from my paintings to the proceeds.” I didn't make a fortune off my paintings, but I always came back from the fair with a few hundred dollars at least.
“Run a Kickstarter or a GoFundMe, too,” Tom suggested. “Get people at the fair to tweet about it. You'll raise money in no time.”
“Hmm.” I chewed on my lower lip. It wouldn't be easy, but the boys were certainly on to something. “You know what? You're right. Let's do it.”
“Awesome!” TJ said, throwing his arms in the air.
“We'd be happy to lend a hand,” Tom said.
I reached over and took his hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “That'll be awesome. Seriously.
You don't have to do this, you know.”
“Yes we do,” TJ said, quite adamant. “If we don't, who will?”
We spent the rest of the night going over the details. After TJ went to bed, Tom and I did some online research into crowdfunding. By the end of the night, we had a long list of ideas. I could get the museum to put up a plaque with donor names. We could offer free tickets to the museum to people who donated. And with official backing from the museum and from the city of Brandenburg, something I was positive I could get, we actually had a decent shot at this.
I went to bed that night dreaming of clockwork machines, and thinking that for once, I'd be taking that pile of parts and turning it back into the beautiful machine it was meant to be.
Chapter 8
The days leading up to the Steampunk World's Fair were nonstop busy. My boss loved the idea of a fundraiser, especially considering all the press it could generate for the museum. It was also easy to convince him that the steampunk crowd would be the ideal audience for the railroad museum, and the free tickets would be a great way to bring in guests. We could afford to give out a ton of free tickets as long as it got people in the door, since we'd make more money off the cafeteria and gift shop sales than we would off ticket prices.
The weekend of the fair, I packed my things in my car and headed down the highway to Tom's house. Tom and TJ were coming with me to the fair, which was being held at a hotel in New Jersey. I'd booked my hotel room months in advance, but it had been easy to get the hotel to offer us a rollaway bed so there would be someplace for TJ to sleep.
My trunk was packed with about two dozen paintings that I'd done over the last year, most of which I hoped to sell over the weekend. I also had a box of museum pamphlets and a stack of tickets to hand out. Tom had helped me set up the online fundraiser, which had gone live this morning. I kept checking for updates on my phone. There were only a handful of donations so far, raising a measly $75 over the last few hours, but I was expecting most of the donations to come during the fair. I'd printed up a few hundred flyers with “Save the Clock Tower” printed across the top and pictures of our poor broken clock on them. All I needed to do was generate enough interest. I'd even included a #SaveTheClockTower hashtag on the flyers so people could tweet about it and post messages on Facebook, Instagram, and everywhere else.