by Nicki Elson
“Waiting seems like the best course for now. I’ll make sure to talk to Kirsten about it too.”
“Thanks. Sorry to dump this on you.”
“It’s fine. Part of the Great Divorce Adventure, right?”
“I guess.” He circled the counter to pick up the wine bottle and topped off each of their glasses. Nearly half an hour had passed, so Maggie called out for the kids to wash up for bed.
“How’s work going?” Carl asked while they waited.
“Fine. A bit of a power struggle going on right now between Father Tom and the visiting monsignor.”
“He’s still around?”
“Yep. And apparently he’ll be around for a while longer—he just announced last week that his stay’s been extended indefinitely. Which seems odd because none of us are even sure exactly why he’s here in the first place. How are things with you work-wise?”
“Same old bullshit. Remember when I couldn’t wait to get to this side of management? What was I thinking?”
The kids raced down the stairs, with Kirsten’s longer legs getting her to her father first. When it came time for his hug, Liam glowered at his sister all the way through it, but when he pulled back, his eyes scanned Carl’s full wine glass. “Dad, are you sleeping over?”
Carl laughed. “No, slugger, just relaxing a little bit before I head home.”
“Let’s go,” Maggie said, guiding the kids toward the stairs.
On the way up Kirsten pinched her brother’s arm, and chastised in a poorly concealed whisper, “You’re such an idiot.” Maggie gave her daughter a warning look but didn’t correct her.
After kissing both children good night at the top of the stairs, she returned to her guest. He’d moved to the couch, with both glasses and what remained of the bottle on the coffee table. Maggie walked over and tentatively sat at the other end of the sofa, reflexively picking up the remote. She was glad she and Carl had learned to function on friendly terms, but hanging out one-on-one like this felt odd.
“Am I keeping you from something?” Carl asked.
“No, not really. But I do have a bunch of shows recorded from last week that I haven’t watched yet.”
“Oh, like what?”
“Here, take a look.” She went to her list of recordings and scrolled through.
“Nice selection. Hey! Where’d you find that?” He took the remote and highlighted the name of an old sitcom that had only run for a few seasons. It had been one of Carl and Maggie’s favorites but had never done well in the ratings.
“On a fluke,” Maggie answered. “I was flipping channels and found it replaying on some obscure cable station. Want to watch?”
Carl shrugged. “Sure.” He clicked to start the show and settled into the sofa, laughing right away as he recognized the episode. Watching that show had been among the few good times the two of them had had together in those last years, and Maggie was now reminded that even though things had gotten pretty bad between them, there had always been a connection.
Instead of fast forwarding through the commercials, they started talking about old times. When the show returned, their conversation continued, stretching back to before Maggie and Carl had even been married. They drained the bottle, and Maggie felt completely relaxed with Carl for the first time in a very long while. By the time the episode ended, she was facing away from the television with her legs curled underneath her as she and Carl talked and laughed.
He flipped on the news, to which they paid no attention, and after a few more minutes of reminiscing, leaned his elbow onto the back of the couch and propped his head on his hand. “Do you know what I remember?” He gave her a sly smile and Maggie noted that the typical mischief had returned to his eyes.
“What?”
With his lips parted slightly, he imitated her moan. “Eh, eh, oh.” It was the sound she used to make when he stimulated just the right nerve. Maggie immediately flushed, but didn’t look away. The rich blue of his irises smoldered as he took in her reaction, and her insides fluttered in response.
“Do you still make that noise?” he asked in a low, unmistakably interested voice.
Maggie raised her eyebrows. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t had the opportunity in a while.”
“Really?” He seemed surprised, but not unpleasantly so. Lifting his hand, he ran his fingertips along Maggie’s jawline, and she noticed for the first time how very, very good he still smelled. Tickling his way down to her chin, he asked, “Would you like to make that noise again?”
Maggie was taken off guard by the abrupt change in the tenor of their conversation. She’d thought they were just having fun, two friends catching up on old times. How had all of this suddenly surfaced? Instead of posing that question to Carl, she stared stupidly into his eyes, thinking about how very much she’d like to make that noise again…with him.
He took her hesitation as acquiescence and pressed his mouth to hers. Her arm flew around his neck, and his hands pressed into the small of her back, crushing her to him while she clutched fistfuls of the salt and pepper hair at the back of his head and pulled him closer. He felt so good. It felt right. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him—the only boy she had ever been serious about.
Carl leaned on Maggie until her back pressed flat on the sofa cushions and he lay on top, his hips cradled between her thighs. She recognized the low growl that rumbled at the back of his throat, the urgency with which he was pressing into her—he didn’t intend to stop at a kiss. Maggie pressed her hands aside his face and pulled his mouth from hers. “What if one of the kids comes down? We can’t do this.”
Gusts of hot breath blew from Carl’s mouth onto her face. “You’ve got a lock on your bedroom door, right?”
His lips were only an inch away and she wanted them back on her. “Yep,” she gasped back.
He rolled off her and stood, reaching for her hand. She threaded her fingers through his and let him lead her upstairs. Whenever a step creaked, he squeezed her hand and stopped, with Maggie leaning into him from behind, trying not to laugh. They finally made into her bedroom with the kids none the wiser. A thought of Evan flickered when Maggie glanced at his corner of the room. But she knew from her conversations with the angel that although he could “see” parts of her life, he wasn’t a voyeur. He’d allow her privacy.
Carl locked the door and helped Maggie pull off her shirt. She returned the favor. She never thought she’d so much as see his naked torso again, yet there she was running her tongue over his lean abs and nipping at his hard chest. When their mouths met again, they were burning hot. Intertwined, they worked out of the rest of their clothing and made their way onto the bed.
When Carl pulled back to look at her, Maggie’s hands went self-consciously to her stomach, which was puffier than last time Carl had seen it. He pushed her hand away and leaned down to take a sensuous bite, clearly not bothered by the modest weight gain. He stayed and played in the general vicinity, and Maggie reveled in his tenderness. Her mind traveled back to how wonderful he’d been to her and the kids during the last several months, how sorry he’d been when the marriage first fell apart, and how he’d said she was the only girl he’d ever been serious about.
He slid into her, and she was taken to a different universe, one Carl had taken her to many times before, but not in a very long time. Maggie moved with him, and they were in perfect sync. She reflected on how far they’d both come in the last two years. They were the new and improved Carl and Maggie. He smiled down at her. She was prepared to love him again, better than she ever had before. She was finally ready to truly forgive him.
Carl grasped her around the waist and flipped them so that he sat back on bended legs with Maggie straddling him. It was one of Maggie’s favorite positions and one they hadn’t ventured anywhere near in the few years before they’d split. The pleasure as he drove into her was intense, but she restrained her volume because of the kids. Besides, if she let herself go at full force, for al
l she knew her guardian angel would come crashing in there thinking someone was trying to murder her.
Maggie hung on for dear life and marveled at her husband’s stamina and strength. He’d obviously increased his workout routine, and she hoped he’d keep it up after they were officially back together. They were going to have it all. Great sex. Great relationship. The separation had made them better for each other in every way.
“Eh, eh, oh.” Maggie’s whimpers combined into one never ending moan of ecstasy. Carl let loose a growl and gave his final thrusts.
After they’d both finished, he buried his face in her glistening breasts, kissing and suckling her salty flesh the same way he always used to. After he’d had his fill, he collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. He should be, Maggie thought to herself with a wry smile. She gave him a peck on his forehead and hopped off to the bathroom to clean up. She didn’t want to think about the fact that they should’ve used protection. When she returned, she did something she’d rarely ever done before—she stayed completely naked and climbed in next to Carl. He held his arm out for her, and she snuggled into his side.
They continued breathing heavily, and didn’t say much, just laughed a little at the unspoken joke that neither one of them could’ve predicted that this was how the evening would end. Maggie pelted Carl’s neck with baby kisses and decided that they should probably hold off on telling the kids they were getting back together until everything was worked out. They could keep it as their own delicious secret for a while. She giggled to herself when she thought about how fun it was going to be sneaking around like love-starved teenagers.
Carl’s hand traveled down her spine. “Baby, baby, I have missed this ass,” he said as he grabbed a handful.
“I’ve missed this throat,” Maggie said, “and this jaw, and these lips.” She worked her way up to the modest bump in the ridge of his nose, then let her face hover for a moment before concluding, “And this tongue.”
She kissed him deeply, trying to communicate so much through it—that she was ready to be a better wife, the wife she should have been in the first place, the best, most devoted wife any man had ever had. She pulled her mouth away and rubbed his nose with hers before lying down and nuzzling into his shoulder. For a few minutes the room was silent. Maggie wanted to tell him she loved him but waited for him to say it first.
Busying herself at his chest while his thumb tickled lines up and down her back, she walked her fingers through the thicket and spun it into tiny tornadoes. It seemed the hair that was disappearing from his hairline was congregating here.
The silence lingered.
She made her fingers like claws and scratched them through his chest hairs, mussing them all up, and then propped herself on one elbow, locking her eyes on his—she couldn’t help but note that something within the vibrant blue of his irises looked vaguely petrified. “What are you thinking, Mr. Brock?”
He rolled onto his side and pressed her so she was on her back. “I’m thinking we just had mind-blowing sex.”
He lowered his mouth and teased her traitorous nipple into a stiff peak. But she didn’t want to be distracted. She wanted to talk about it. She wanted to hear him say that he was as eager as she was to try again. For the second time that night she lifted his head away from her. “I mean what are you thinking about us?”
After a long sigh, he said, “I don’t know. Tonight was great. Wonderful. But I’m just not sure either one of us needs this kind of complication in our lives right now.”
“So I’m a complication?” Maggie’s heart dropped as she said it.
Carl chuckled and cradled her face. “Yes, Maggie Dawson Brock. You are a complication, always have been. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” He stared at her silently before adding, “I do love you, Maggie.”
“To be quickly followed by the old ‘But I’m not in love with you.’”
“No. I am in love with you.” His eyes flicked over her face. “I can’t imagine ever not being in love with you. It’s just…I’m fresh out of a relationship and you, well, I know how independent you are, and the single life really seems to suit you. I probably haven’t told you, but I’m extremely impressed with the way you’ve stood so firmly on your own feet these last two and a half years.”
She forced herself to smile, filled with a need to not tarnish his glowing image of her as a capable, independent woman. “So then we’re going to chalk tonight up as just sex?” She figured it would only take a good night’s sleep to reset her mind to where it had been. She could be okay with just sex. She’d have to be.
“For now that sounds like a good idea.”
As she watched the relief wash over his face, Maggie realized she’d been holding out hope for a different reaction. Something poked at her from inside, encouraging her to tell him how she really felt, to give him her vulnerability. But she couldn’t. “So, since this is just sex, is it okay if I kick you out? I have an early day tomorrow.” She had a sudden urge to get far away from his tender embrace.
Chapter 7
THE ANGELS SANG SLIGHTLY OFF KEY, but nobody seemed to mind. The occupants of the folding chairs set out in neat rows across the gym floor were more than forgiving—it was their children on stage in tinfoil halos and repurposed bed sheets after all. The chair Carl had saved for Maggie remained empty. She’d made sure Kirsten had found her father and then excused herself to help get the children into their costumes. After that she decided the view from the side of the stage was perfectly fine and stayed there for the rest of the performance. But she couldn’t avoid her ex-husband after the show.
“Great job, Liam!” Carl praised as his son leaped into his arms for a bear hug.
“How do we know he did a great job?” Kirsten asked. “It’s not like we could tell which screech was his.”
“Kirsten,” Maggie warned before turning to Carl. “I hate to say this, but my allergies have been acting up, and I feel a headache coming on.”
“Probably all the screeching,” Kirsten contributed unhelpfully.
Maggie shot her daughter a hard look and continued. “I think I’d better skip the pizza. And Kirsten, darling, if you can’t be nicer to your brother—who did an amazing job tonight—you can skip it too.”
“Aw, Mom.” Liam pouted, triggering Maggie’s maternal guilt. This night was supposed to be about her little boy, not her inability to deal with her adult issues.
“I’ve got ibuprofen in my car, if you think that’ll help,” Carl offered.
After a glance at Liam’s hopeful face, Maggie agreed, and the four of them headed out to Carl’s car where she swallowed the tablets dry. Since the school was on Carl’s way home from the restaurant, he suggested they all drive together and then he’d drop Maggie and the kids at her car afterward.
“Yeah!” Liam shouted loudly enough to provide Maggie with a good excuse to wince at the suggestion.
“How about the three of you drive together,” she said, “and I’ll listen to some soothing Vivaldi alone in my car so that I’m feeling better by the time I get there?”
“Sounds good to me,” Carl said and the kids jumped into his car.
Emilio’s was fairly crowded, but Carl had made a reservation so they were shown to a booth right away, with Maggie manipulating the seating so that she sat diagonal from her ex-husband rather than straight across. He played tic-tac-toe on the back of a paper placemat with Liam while Kirsten delivered a point-by-point pitch on the virtues of getting her ears double pierced as an eighth grade graduation gift.
To anyone who didn’t know better, the Brocks appeared to be a typical, happy family. The pizza came and they laughed and ate too much, and all the while a scenario played at the back of Maggie’s mind—the four of them going home together, her tucking the kids into bed and then falling asleep next to Carl, listening to him snore and knowing he’d be there the next morning and every morning after that. She envisioned the reunited family packing up the car and taking the trip out West that they’d b
een planning right before everything had fallen apart. She’d been so focused on proving to herself that she didn’t need Carl, she hadn’t considered until now whether or not she wanted him—and after the other night, she couldn’t deny that she did.
She finally understood that it wasn’t conviction that had kept her from working on her marriage. It was fear. Even the other night when she’d lain naked in his arms, she hadn’t been able to tell him how she felt. She’d only gone so far as to press him to open up. And when he hadn’t given her the answer she’d wanted, her first instinct had been self-preservation; she didn’t dare expose her heart the way she’d exposed her body. As she watched Carl across the booth, laughing with the kids and stealing glances at her, she wondered if he might reconsider “just sex” if she told him everything. But opening up to Carl would mean taking a big risk, and Maggie wasn’t sure she could do it.
“You know, your mother had a nose ring when we first met.” Carl looked sideways at Maggie and winked. Liam scrunched his face skeptically and Kirsten rolled her eyes. “She did! But I told her it was either the nose ring or me.”
Now Maggie rolled her eyes.
“Well, maybe she should’ve kept the nose ring.” Kirsten laughed. “You know, ’cause of how things turned out.” She took a large bite of pizza, and glanced at her parents. Her smile faded upon seeing their fallen expressions.
Maggie and Carl hadn’t told their children the whole story behind the breakup, just that they’d been struggling to get along for a while, that it had nothing to do with the children, and that they thought everyone would be happier if they separated—although Maggie knew it had taken a long time before Kirsten and Liam had seen either one of their parents happy again.
“Sorry,” Kirsten mumbled through her food.
Maggie forced a smile back on her face. “Nah, if I’d have kept the nose ring, we wouldn’t have had you two and that would’ve been a terrible shame.”