Now, Saturday had finally arrived and I was sitting in her driveway like a fucking idiot wondering what to do. Getting out of the car would be a good place to start.
I hadn't been on a date since Melanie. Picking up women in bars and clubs didn't count as dates. With Melanie, I had never been nervous on our dates. Looking back, maybe that should have been a clue...and damn it, this wasn't a date! Now I really needed to get out of this car before she noticed me sitting out here like a stalker.
I walked up to the front door and saw the curtains flutter before hearing "He's here Mommy! Hurry up!!" followed by a little girl’s laughter. Apparently, knocking wasn't necessary, but I did so anyway. I heard little feet racing toward the door as Clare shouted at Maddie to check and make sure it was me first. There was a brief pause, followed by another giggle, and the door opened. An adorable Maddie all dressed up for an evening out wiggled her finger toward me motioning for me to come closer. I leaned down to her level and she whispered, “If Mommy asks, I looked out the window, k? I already knew it was you."
Chuckling at the thought of her trying to undermine her mom, I just nodded. I scooped her up and we entered the house together.
"Maddie, you look just like a princess." And she did. She wore a teal dress with a simple bodice and of course, a tulle glittery skirt. Her curly hair was tamed and pinned behind each ear with matching barrettes and glittery silver shoes.
"Mommy took me shopping and let me pick out whatever I wanted! I look like a ballerina, huh?" she said proudly as I put her down so she could twirl around to show off her sparkly skirt. I needed to remind myself to buy everything and anything covered in tulle and glitter.
"You sure do. You'll fit right in. How about your Mom? Does she look like a ballerina?" I asked, wondering when I would get to see Clare.
"No, Mommy never lets me dress her up. She says pink tutus don't go with red hair. She's got some grown up dress on."
Just as Maddie finished her sentence Clare walked into the room and I nearly swallowed my tongue.
She was beautiful in a pair of yoga pants, but now she was downright breathtaking.
Her dress was satin, and shimmered a perfect shade of emerald green to match her eyes. The tiny straps dipped low enough to reveal just a hint of her delectable cleavage and the tight fabric hugged her every curve. She wore gold heels that made her long legs seem endless. I briefly thought about what those high heels would look like wrapped around my neck, but quickly decided, as Maddie was tugging on my arm, to shelve that fantasy for another time.
Clearing my throat, I managed to say, “You look radiant.”
I wanted to say more, to tell her she looked gorgeous and downright fuckable. But this was not a date, and even if it was, I'm pretty sure that statement would get me a one way ticket out the door. I may be rusty on dating, but I do remember some things. Telling a woman she looks “fuckable” in the first five minutes? That's a big don't. At least on the first date.
"Thank you. You polish up pretty well too, Doc," she declared, grinning widely. There it was again, that spark and sass from the other day when she was firing off the question and answer game, and she had it again. I felt it growing stronger each day. It was like witnessing someone’s confidence returning after a huge blow to their ego. She was becoming bolder in her interactions with me, like something inside of her was slowly being rebuilt. Was she flirting? I was so out of practice with subtlety I didn't even know anymore.
The women I’d been spending time with over the last few years didn't do subtle and until very recently I liked it that way. After Melanie and all the hurt I caused her, I didn't want any feelings attached to sex. I figured it was better for all parties involved. When you have my name, there’s no shortage of women, and I shamelessly used that to my advantage. It wasn’t like I was a rock star. I could go to Target or the grocery store and go unrecognized. At a club or a bar where I was known to frequent, people would introduce themselves and I would do the same. Eventually they’d put the puzzle pieces together, and I would be surrounded. Leeches. They'd hang on my every word, pretending they cared. The men patted me on my back, hoping to become Logan Matthew’s new best friend while the women rubbed, purred and stroked, hoping I’d take them for a spin.
"You ready to go?" Clare asked, grabbing her coat off the back of the sofa. She began slinging it around her body, but I interceded. I eased the coat over her slender body, letting my hands linger a second longer than needed, letting her subtle perfume engulf my senses. I took a quick breath to clear my head. Clare intoxicated me like no other woman I’d ever encountered. Every time I was around her, I had this overwhelming need to touch her. I wanted to hold her hand, touch her skin, and wrap her body around mine. Feeling no less distracted but knowing we needed to leave, I grabbed the small dress coat draped over the couch next to Clare's handbag, and knelt down to help Maddie.
"All set, princess?" I asked, giving her a wink.
"Yep!" Maddie sang, bouncing in the air like a jackrabbit.
"All right Ladies, let's go!"
Clare
He picked the perfect restaurant. It wasn't too fancy, but just enough that Maddie felt like she was given the royal treatment. He again carried Maddie into the restaurant, all of her teal colored tulle balled up in his masculine arms. It was quite the sight. And God, he looked handsome tonight.
That man filled out a suit flawlessly. The dark charcoal tailored jacket fit him perfectly and the steel blue tie he had chosen matched his eyes. After I had put on the cocktail dress Leah insisted I buy I felt overdone and out of my element. It had been years since I’d worn something so fancy. But when I came downstairs and saw those beautiful blue eyes widen in surprise, and then smolder with heat, I made a mental note to call Leah and thank her for her wisdom. I felt empowered and beautiful. It was exactly what I needed.
Maddie had insisted on sitting next to him. He laughed and said "Of course, princess!" I think he had developed his own nickname for her. I tried not to think about how that made me feel.
The waiter gave Maddie a kids menu and a small box of crayons, which sent her into her own world. Settling on a dish of light angel hair with shrimp and a glass of white wine, I placed my menu on the table and found Logan staring at me. This, of course, made me blush from the sudden attention, but he just kept staring.
"Your parents must have brought back a bit of Ireland with you when they came back from their honeymoon. Your eyes are the exact color of the Irish hillsides."
“You’ve been there?”
He nodded with no explanation.
"Where else have you traveled?" I questioned.
"I've been all over. My father wasn't big on holidays, so instead of putting up a tree or carving turkeys, he would send me on a trip. I would have hired chaperones and could pretty much go wherever I wanted as long as I wasn’t home," he causally answered with a shrug.
“Are you an only child?”
“Uh, no. I have a sister, Evangeline, but she grew up with my Mom. My real mom, I mean, not the Stepford wife my father is married to now,” he explained.
“So, you didn’t spend holidays with your Mom and sister?”
I couldn't imagine not having a place to go for the holidays. Being shipped off, a big burden no one wanted to deal with.
“No, my Mom gave me up when my parents divorced. Full custody went to my father. And I don’t see Eva much at all. I barely know her.”
"Oh." I didn’t know what else to say.
"It is the way it is. But I did get to see the world. I've been everywhere. Spain, Italy, China, and Russia.” He abruptly stopped as the waiter brought us drinks and took our dinner orders.
Alone again, I asked "Not that I'm not thrilled you're talking, but why are you opening up all the sudden? You devoured half a bowl of jelly beans to avoid that family question last week."
Logan stared into his wine glass, taking a sip as he quietly pondered my question. His gaze finally drifted back up to me, and our eyes locked.
"I don't know. I feel like you see through me. The normal facade I put out there to the rest of the world? It doesn't work with you. I tried it on Sunday, and you called my bluff. When you asked about my family, I was still so stunned by how clearly you saw me. You seemed to know that was the one of the few questions that would get under my skin. I've thought about it since then, and I don't know, I guess I decided if you see through it all, what’s the point?"
He shrugged, “It feels good to be honest with someone for once in my life."
I was breathless for a second, stunned by his candor. I didn’t know what to say, so I took the easy way out and changed the subject.
"I've never even been out of the country," I confessed quickly. God, I was a coward.
Understanding flashed across his face, and he eased back into our first conversation.
Thank you, I silently told him.
"Really? Never?" he replied.
"No, Ethan and I were supposed to honeymoon in Italy, but I was offered a teaching position in the history department at one of the local high schools. I couldn't get the two weeks off mid-semester, so we canceled. We had always planned on going, but then well...Maddie came, and then he got sick."
Nice Clare. Excellent dinner conversation. Much better than the last one.
My eyes reached across the table until I found Maddie and smiled. I gently ran my hands over her fingers as she colored. She, of course, didn’t notice, still stuck in her own little world of crayons. I don’t know what I would do without her.
"She looks like you," Logan said, his eyes traveling between Maddie and me, comparing mother and daughter.
"She definitely got my hair, a lighter version, but it’s still mine. But her brown eyes are all Ethan.” I said, with snort, "Red hair, freckles, and pale skin. That's all me. Poor kid, she's gonna hate me as a teenager."
"She'll be a knockout, just like her Mom."
Logan
I’ve never had more fun in a restaurant. I laughed when Clare told stories about Maddie's younger years. Clare's face lit up when she explained that Maddie hated diapers as a baby and she would find her crawling all over the house buck naked. Four-year-old Maddie did not find this nearly as funny and told her Mommy saying the word "diaper" at the dinner table was "imappropriate". I had to hide my laughter behind my napkin over that one.
When our food was cleared, Maddie announced that we couldn’t leave until Mommy had tiramisu. Apparently she was well aware of her mother’s sweet tooth. So I ordered one for us all to share. I helped Maddie color her menu while we waited for dessert. Coloring is not a talent of mine, and Clare jokingly pointed out this fact out to me several times.
"Oh come on, it's not like you could do better," I taunted.
"Didn't you know? I'm the Picasso of menu art," she bragged, grabbing the menu to her side of the table, and began creating her own masterpiece.
A few minutes later, our dessert arrived, and Clare handed her menu back to our side of the table. I took one look and burst out laughing.
She'd drawn a plate piled high with tiramisu. It’s disturbingly detailed. This woman knows her desserts. Above the drawing, she spelled out "Back away from my tiramisu and no one gets hurt!"
I looked up. Clare had confiscated the dessert and was already three or four bites in, a wide grin of mischief spread across her face.
"Ah, what? Your Mom just stole our dessert!"
"Mommy!!" Maddie scolded.
"I don't know why you are surprised. You know what I'm like around tiramisu. You should have warned him," she countered, taking another bite.
It’s the most ridiculous thing I’d ever seen. It was also incredibly hot. I suddenly wanted to take a huge dollop of that espresso custard and smear it between her cleavage and lick it clean.
Adjusting in my seat, I turned to Maddie and asked, "All right, princess, what do you want for dessert? I didn't realize your mother gets hostile around Italian desserts," I teased.
"Ice cream!" Maddie cheered.
I grabbed the waiter as he walked by and ordered ice cream and more tiramisu. By the time the additional desserts arrived, Clare’s tiramisu was history.
"So Maddie, your Mom told some embarrassing stuff about you. Why don't you tell me something about your Mom?" I instructed. I realized I could be digging myself a very large hole, but it was too late now.
"Oh! Okay! Um, she likes to dance, especially with me. She turns up the music real loud, and we dance all over the house. I don't think most Mommies do that, because it's really silly," she stated proudly.
I looked over at Clare, who didn’t look embarrassed in the least. She just grinned before reached toward Maddie, touched her pointer finger to Maddie's nose and gave her a quick wink.
"Well, silly moms are the best. Or so I've been told," I assured her, never taking my eyes off of Clare. The more I learned about her, the more in awe I became. And the less I thought I’d be able to stay away. I was captivated now. How did she do it? Stay so strong? I had been through a lot of shit in my life, and look at me...I was pathetic. She'd been to hell and back, and she was dancing around the house with a four-year old.
As I’m staring at her, I realized her gaze is fixed on something entirely different.
"Oh, just give in already," I insisted, handing her a fork.
"Yes!" she bellowed, diving into my dessert. I ordered it for her anyway. This woman really loved sweets.
When dinner was finished and paid for, we left for the ballet. Maddie was about to burst with excitement by the time we made it to our seats.
The ballet was in a completely restored theater that dated back to 1920s. Its Art Deco elegance is something you don’t see anymore, and as I watched Clare run her delicate fingers up and down the velvet seats, I knew she agreed. Her eyes danced around the room, taking it all in.
"Logan, these seats are amazing. I hope you didn't go to too much trouble."
Looking at Maddie as she bounced up and down in her teal dress, I was pretty sure I would have done just about anything to see that look on her face. Knowing this little fact should have freaked me out. Two weeks ago, I would never have done something like this, but these two women were changing me. I just hope I don’t hurt them in the process.
"No, it was no trouble. It was my pleasure.”
Maddie's first ballet was a total success. I held her to my side as she clapped for the dancers during the standing ovation. She loved every minute. All that excitement rushed out of her quickly though, and she fell asleep in my arms about halfway to the car. Clare and I were silent as we walked to the parking garage. I could see her occasionally glance over, looking at Maddie in my arms. There was something there, in her eyes. She was thinking, analyzing or maybe realizing something because she turned away quickly when she met my gaze.
Working in the ER, I had my fair share of encounters with children, and not all of them have been good or had happy endings. Despite the fact that I had become a complete asshole in my personal life, I still maintained a good bedside manner with my patients, especially children. I did feel for them and their families. What I felt for Maddie was something different, though. I wanted to protect her, hold her, and never let her go. It was fierce, raw and real. When she was in my arms, it felt natural to me. When I was with Clare and Maddie, I felt like I was home, or at least what I thought a home should feel like. It was selfish of me to get involved. I should run, leave them in peace to enjoy their lives without being dragged into my shit. But I couldn’t stop myself. It was like the calm you felt from a drug, and I was an addict unable to turn away.
We arrived at the car and I helped Clare buckle a sleeping Maddie into the car seat. I opened the door for Clare, waiting for her to get situated before going around to the driver’s side. The silence between us was deafening.
"You're quiet. Are you all right?"
"Yes. No. I don't know," she admitted.
"I know we haven't known each other very long, but remember...no bullshit? You c
an be honest with me," I gently reminded her.
She took a deep ragged breath, letting it release slowly from her lungs.
"Seeing her in your arms creates so many emotions in me. Warmth, pride, guilt," she began before briefly pausing to collect her thoughts.
"He's never going to be here to take her to a ballet, or pick her up from school. He won't walk her down the aisle or see her children. These are all things I know, and have known. And I'd made peace with that."
"I've upset you. I --" I began to say.
"No, you did nothing wrong. She adores you. You're the first man she's been comfortable around since Ethan. I knew from the day Ethan died that I would most likely be a single parent for the rest of my life, and I mourned all those things that Ethan would miss in her life. I guess I just realized, seeing her with you, how much she will miss in her life by not having a father. It’s so stupid, but I hadn’t seen it the other way around until now.”
I reached across the small space in the car that separated us and grabbed her hand. Up until this moment, we hadn’t touched since that moment in the ER. Her hand felt soft in mine, delicate. She turned her hand beneath mine, weaving our fingers together.
I snuck a glance down at our joined hands, before turning onto her street.
"And what about you? What are you missing?" I whispered, knowing I was stepping onto new ground.
"I don't really know. I hadn't thought about it at all. Until recently."
We reached her house and I pulled the car into the driveway. I killed the engine but didn’t make a move to exit. Instead, I turned toward her and just admired the woman in front of me. The words she’d just said still clung in the air, and my body ached to lean forward and kiss her, claiming her as my own.
Her eyes locked with mine and I could see them wide with anticipation and just a hint of nervousness. The deep green seared into mine before traveling down to my lips. I nearly groaned with the need to touch her. Raising my hand, I gently traced my fingers down the side of her face, feeling her soft skin under mine. Her breath caught and her eyes fluttered closed. Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, I pulled her closer to me so that our lips were mere inches apart.
Exposed: An Anthology Page 30