by Jami Alden
Ellie placed slices of cheese on each of the four burgers and closed the lid of the grill to finish them off. Her mother turned to her, a glimmer of what looked like regret dimming her normally bright gaze. "Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing, taking you away from him."
"Dad? Like you said, he was barely around."
"I know, but at least before I left you had some time with him. Some time is better than nothing."
"If he wanted time with us, he certainly could have had it. It's not like he wasn't allowed to see us again."
"I made it hard for him though, moving all the way out here—"
"And he made it hard on you, joining the army and moving us all over the place all the time," Ellie burst in, unused to and uncomfortable with this line of conversation. Her mother had always been so strong in her convictions, so confident in the decisions she'd made. "Which is exactly why I never wanted that kind of life for myself." As she said it her gaze drifted to Damon. He couldn't have heard what she said, but he looked up as though he felt her stare and flashed her a grin.
"Your father and I were never meant for the long haul," Adele scoffed. "Had nothing to do with moving. Now the right couple, they could have made it work."
Ellie could feel her mother's stare boring into the back of her neck as she placed the burgers on buns and took the platter over to the wooden picnic table.
Why didn't you tell me this when I was seventeen? she screamed inside. Why did you drill into me and Molly over and over again that army life was the worst possible fate for a wife, to the point where I was so terrified I wouldn't even let Damon so much as utter the possibility?
"What's gotten into you?" she said instead, trying to keep the anger out of her voice. "You never want to talk about Dad. Now you almost sound like you miss him."
"Hell no," Adele scoffed, but there was a hollowness to her voice Ellie had never heard before. "I'm just old and, I don't know, sentimental. But I look at Anthony and think back to you girls... kids should have a father."
"I agree," Ellie said as she set out four paper plates and put a burger on each. "And unfortunately Troy's absence is beyond anything I was able control."
"Troy." Adele practically spat out his name. "Even if he were alive, that's not someone I would want teaching Anthony what it means to be a man."
"Mom..." Ellie warned.
Adele rose from her chair, walked over to the table, and started putting out forks and napkins beside each plate. "I don't like to speak ill of the dead, but really, Ellie, raising Anthony in that kind of environment, with all that money... Don't tell me you've never felt like you sort of dodged a bullet."
"Dodged a bullet?" Ellie snapped, trying to keep her voice low so Anthony wouldn't overhear. "Finding out my husband was a criminal, losing everything, and then finding out he had a girlfriend and another kid on the side? That's dodging a bullet?"
Her mother didn't respond, but did have the grace to look a little shame faced.
But the awful truth was, despite all the shit she'd had to deal with, sometimes she did feel.... relieved that Troy had died. As humiliating as it had been to discover the truth about his girlfriend after his death, it had saved her from having to make the gut wrenching decision to divorce her husband and take her son from the only life he'd ever known.
It made her stomach churn with guilt to acknowledge the truth, even silently. That she was grateful her child's father was dead because it saved her from having to make difficult decisions.
"That didn't come out the way I meant," Adele said. "What I mean, is now you have the freedom to make different choices. To maybe end up with someone who will be a great father to Anthony."
"Don't even think it, Mom," Ellie said, and went back into the kitchen to retrieve their drinks. "It's never happening."
"Why not?" Adele said, like a dog with a bone. "Why can't you and Damon give it another go? It's obvious there's still some kind of feeling between you two."
Right, it's called lust, at least on his part, Ellie thought. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't tell me you haven't thought of it?"
Of course I've thought of it, she wanted to scream. She'd thought it a hundred over the years and at least ten times a day since that first night Damon had snuck through her window. Imagined that instead of sneaking back out after they were finished having sex, he'd pull her into his arms and tell her he'd never really stopped loving her. That he wanted to be with her. That he wanted to have another chance at the life they were supposed to have together, before they'd let youthful anger and impulsiveness rip them apart. That like her, he had fallen in love all over again.
And now, seeing him with Anthony, so naturally caring and fun, giving her sweet little boy the kind of male attention she hadn't realized he was starving for...
It only made her ache that much harder for the life she could never have.
"Time to wash hands," she called, pushing the words through a throat gone tight as a vice. She needed to have a plan, she realized. A real plan with a real deadline for when she was leaving town.
Because the longer she stayed, the longer she let herself get swept up in fantasies of what it would be like to create a family with Damon and Anthony and their phantom future children, the more deeply mired she would become in a world made up of her own illusions. Living in limbo, falling deeper and deeper into this relationship that really wasn't, until she wouldn't be able to climb out.
And when Damon decided he was tired of her and moved on.... Ellie had been broken apart and put herself back together enough for one lifetime. She didn't think she could survive another heartbreak.
As soon as the party was over, she told herself, she could focus full time on finding a new job—her stomach seized anxiously at the thought of what exactly that might be—away from here.
Away from the man who was so different from the boy she'd loved, but whose hold on her was as strong as ever.
"You okay?" Damon asked as they all sat down, the soft look of concern in his eyes drawing her in even as it reminded her why she needed to stay strong in her newfound resolve to leave as soon as humanly possible.
Chapter 12
"Fine," Ellie said, but there was no mistaking the sudden, melancholy air that settled over her. After all these years, Damon could still read the shift in her moods from the slightest quirk of her lips, the set of her shoulders. For the first time since she'd come back to town, he wasn't annoyed at himself for still being so in tune with her.
Tonight, it felt oddly comforting, the feeling of knowing her so well, knowing that she knew him just as intimately, in a way that had nothing to do with sex.
Not that that part wasn't awesome, he mused, concealing a grin behind a bite of his burger.
But this was different, a deeper element of their relationship that he'd been desperately been trying to keep at bay. Even last night, after he'd left her, he'd told himself his crazy compulsion to be with her was solely about sex. What he really needed to do if he really wanted her out of his system, was to stop fighting it. Give it free rein, let it burn itself out.
Then he'd walked into her house tonight, stumbled into the simple evening she was spending with her son, and he knew he was full of shit. Of course he'd seen her with Anthony in the past few weeks, but if he'd had any reaction, it was resentment.
Which he'd immediately snuffed of course, because if he was over her he had no business feeling one way or another about the son she had with another man.
He didn't know what it was. Maybe because seeing Ellie—all sun kissed and mussy looking, clad in cut off shorts that he'd swear were the same ones she'd worn in high school—sent him hurling back to a time when they were fused so tight it seemed impossible anything could tear them apart. Combine that girl with the mother she'd become, the love for her son palpable, even when he was trying her patience.
I want this, he'd thought in that moment. Walking into a house at the end of the day, knowing his family was wai
ting.
And he wanted this, he thought as he looked around the table, listening as Ellie asked Anthony if he wanted more ketchup for his burger, if he needed more chips.
"Thanks for letting me stay for dinner," Damon said as he took a sip of his beer. "It's delicious."
"Mommy used to make the goodest cheeseburgers ever," Anthony said around a huge bite, then paused, his little brow furrowing.
"What do you mean used to?" Ellie asked, laughter chasing away the sadness that had momentarily seemed to settle over her.
"Well," Anthony said, his expression solemn, "I don't want you to feel bad, but actually Brady makes cheeseburgers that are a little bit gooder than yours."
"Well since that's what we pay him for, it's probably a good thing his burgers are better than mine," Ellie said and reached over to ruffle his hair.
"Yours are definitely a close second," Damon said as he polished off the last bite. "I heard you and Mom went over to Livingston,” he added to Adele as he picked up his beer. "You get anything good?"
"Oh yes." Adele's eyes lit up and she went on to describe a hand knit jumper she'd picked out for Damon's nephew as well as two boxes of china that was "very precious and rare."
"And they'll look great gathering dust in the attic," Ellie muttered under her breath.
Her mother straightened up in her seat. "Just you wait, one day the producers of Antique Roadhouse are going to answer my call to do a show from Billings, and when they do, I wouldn't be surprised if we find my Wedgwood is worth thousands of dollars."
"Well hopefully they'll do it soon," Ellie said with a wry smile. "Maybe you could front me the money for some new tires."
Adele rolled her eyes. "Speaking of my Wedgwood collection," she said, turning her attention back to Damon, "I can't seem to find my oval serving platter. I'm wondering if I left it at your house after your barbecue."
"I don't remember seeing it but I'll certainly take a look," Damon said as he wiped his mouth. "If I find it I'll drop it by the restaurant."
"Or you could just bring it here the next time you sneak in Ellie's window," she said, deadpan as she drained her wine glass.
To his right, Ellie choked on the bite she'd just taken. Damon felt his own face flame as Ellie turned nearly purple and erupted into a fit of coughing.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he blustered as he patted Ellie on the back and told Anthony to go get his mother a cup of water.
"Oh please," Adele said as Anthony hustled off to the kitchen. "You didn't fool me back when you were in high school, and you're certainly not fooling me now."
His mouth opened and closed, unsure of what one said when busted for sneaking into one’s girlfriend's bedroom. All he knew was that it felt as awkward at the age of thirty-one as it would have at the age of eighteen.
"Here, Mommy," Anthony said as he rushed from the kitchen, a tumbler of water in his outstretched hands.
"Thanks," Ellie croaked out as she reached for the water.
"Come on, sweetie," Adele stood and put her hand on Anthony's shoulder. "Help me with the dishes."
Ellie's cough slowly subsided until she was able to take a long, shuddering breath without coughing. She took a gulp of water and chuckled, shaking her head. "What a way to go," she said. "Can you imagine the obituary? 'Women dies choking on burger after mother's shocking declaration.’ "
Damon laughed, but was suddenly, awkwardly aware of his hand on Ellie's back. "So much for keeping it under the radar, huh?"
She turned to him, a troubled look on her face, but whatever she was about to say was lost as Anthony came bursting back outside. "I got popsicles for everyone," he said, brandishing them in his hands. Damon and Ellie each accepted one. "If you get purple, you have to trade with me, because that's my favorite," Anthony said as he tore into his wrapper.
"Purple? No way, red is the best," Damon crowed as he unwrapped his popsicle.
"Purple!" Anthony said, grinning with delight when he discovered he had gotten his favorite.
"Red!" Damon shot back playfully.
"Purple!" Anthony yelled loud enough to be heard in the next county.
"Keep it down," Ellie said, shushing him.
"Sounds like we need a tie breaker," Damon said. "What do you think El? Purple or red?" he asked, pretty sure he knew the answer.
"The answer is you're both wrong," she said she unwrapped her dessert. "The best flavor is orange."
"Orange?" he and Anthony said in unison, wrinkling their noses.
"Nobody likes orange," Damon teased.
"I thought you only ate the orange because they're all that's left at the bottom of the box," Anthony said, purple juice running down his chin.
"That's one of the advantages of liking orange. People are so foolishly focused on the other flavors, there's always plenty left for me." As she said this she put the popsicle between her lips and sucked.
Damon's own dessert was forgotten as he watched her lips close around the tip and draw it inside. Suddenly his thoughts were very far from the best flavors for frozen desserts.
Ellie must have caught his look because she abruptly bit down and pulled the popsicle from her mouth. A little half smirk pulled at her lips at Damon's involuntary wince.
"Can we play catch some more?" Anthony said, thankfully oblivious to the inappropriate undertones.
"It's getting late." Ellie frowned looking at her watch.
"Not that late," Anthony wheedled. "Just a few more minutes."
As they waited for Ellie's answer, Damon wasn't sure who was hoping she'd say yes more.
"Fifteen more minutes," Ellie said, and Damon released a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
He gave himself a mental shake, wondering what the hell was up with him that he suddenly felt like he was going to live or die by whether or not Ellie was going to let him keep playing with her kid.
But that wasn't it, he acknowledged as he picked up the football and tossed it gently into Anthony's outstretched hands. It was that he didn't want this night to end. Didn't want to go home by himself.
Didn't want to leave Ellie and the feeling that when he was with her everything in his world was right.
He and Anthony chased each other around the yard, their game of catch having quickly morphed into a game of tag/tackle football. Anthony charged into him and Damon flung himself down on the grass, sprawled flat on his back. He reached up and dug his fingers into the boy's ribs, generating a squeal of laughter he couldn't help but echo himself.
Ellie was laughing, and the sound of it washed over him, reached inside of him and cracked something wide open. When he stood up again, he felt a little dazed, as though he'd taken a hit from a two hundred fifty pound linebacker instead of a five-year-old boy.
"Okay, time for jammies and tooth brushing," Ellie said.
"Awww...." Anthony said, his voice increasing in pitch.
"Listen to your mom," Damon said firmly. "We'll play again soon."
"Tomorrow?"
Damon started to go through his schedule.
"Probably not tomorrow," Ellie interjected. "We all have a lot going on this week because of the party."
"But soon, I promise." Damon said. "No go do what your mom asked."
Anthony ran up onto the porch and inside. Damon followed more slowly, feeling Ellie's gaze burning into his chest.
"Thanks," he said as Ellie handed him a fresh beer. He clinked the bottle to her wine glass. "To little boys and football," he said before he took a long pull.
"Little boys and football," Ellie said. She took a quick sip of her wine but couldn't quite hide the tremble in her lips. She swallowed with a little sigh. "Thanks."
"For the washing machine? It's no problem."
"No," she said with a soft little laugh that made his skin prickle with awareness. "For playing with Anthony."
He shrugged. "You don't have to thank me. It was fun."
"Even so, it really made his day—his month actually. He's generall
y easy going and cheerful, this whole thing, the move, it's all been a big adjustment for him. And ever since Troy..."
As always Damon's shoulders tightened up at the mention of him. He wondered if there would ever be a time when he would hear he man's name and not want to punch a wall.
"Anyway, it's been a long time since he's had a chance to play like that, especially with a man." She took a sip of her wine. "Hell, even before he died, Troy didn't—" she snapped her lips closed.
"Didn't what?" Damon said, not sure why he wanted to know, unable to keep himself from probing for more of the truth about her ill-fated marriage.
Her lips flattened, her fingers wrapped tightly around the bowl of her wine glass. "I shouldn't bad mouth him." After a few seconds of silence, as though she couldn't stop herself. "Troy wasn't... how can I put this? From the moment Anthony was born, it was very clear Troy wasn't going to be a very hands on dad. He pretty much focused on making sure he provided financially, and considered his parenting responsibilities covered."
"And he even managed to fuck up that at the end," he said before he could stop himself.
Far from annoyed, Ellie let out a rueful laugh. "That he did." She raised her glass in emphasis and took another sip. Then she got that sad look in her eyes again, the one that made his heart ache with the familiar need to pull her into his arms and not let her go until all of her hurt was gone. "His loss though, right?"
"Absolutely. Anthony's a great kid."
"Thanks. I certainly think so." There was no mistaking the wet sheen in her eyes when they met his.
And there was no way he could keep himself from reaching for her. He took her glass and set it next to his bottle on the picnic table, then slid his hand up to cup her cheek.
He wasn't sure who moved first but suddenly she was pressed so close against him he could feel the soft press of her breasts against his chest, the heat of her skin warming him through the layers of their clothing.
He bent his head, breathing in the scent of her. The combination of sun-warmed skin, coconut scented sunscreen and her own unique fragrance heated his blood and made his breath catch as her lips parted on a soft sigh.