by Violet Duke
Abby shot a glance over at Brian, but found not an iota of help there. Since starting this whole joint-custody dating arrangement, aside from their snow country trip, she’d made sure to sleep in her own house every single night because the alternative didn’t sit well with her at all. This was the first time Skylar seemed to notice anything different in that department.
“Maybe,” she evaded. “But I have a ton of work to catch up on so I may just head home, too.”
“Okay, well ‘night.” Skylar came over to give her a hug. “Can we hang out this weekend?”
“Of course.” Abby smiled. “It’s a date.”
“Cool. Love you, dad.”
“Love you too, sweetie. Sweet dreams.”
As soon as Skylar’s door clicked shut, Abby felt her nerves buzz to life, rendering her mute. This was the first time in weeks she and Brian had found themselves truly alone together. And all she could think about was how long it’s been since his last python hug.
Before her thought was even complete, she felt Brian tug her close and wrap his arms around her waist.
Never had she appreciated his mind-reading abilities so much.
She sighed and sank into his embrace.
“Is this okay?” he asked, ever the gentleman.
At her silent nod, he squeezed her tighter, whispering into her hair, “I’ve missed having you in my arms.”
She missed it too.
...But not without feeling like she was betraying Connor.
“It kills me that I can’t hold you anymore, Abby.”
“No one said you couldn’t.” She wrapped her arms over his. “Everyone knows you’re a big hugger.”
“It’s not the same.”
No, it wasn’t.
Turning in his arms, she looked up and saw the sadness in his eyes, felt it echo in her heart. “Brian, we don’t have to keep doing this. We can go right back to how it was before Connor came back. Stop this whole joint custody craziness.”
Though in her brain, she meant every single word, the stab in her heart as she said them almost took her breath away.
“Have you made your decision?” The hope laced through his tone tore at her heart.
She dropped her gaze down. “No.” God, she was a horrible person.
“Hey, none of that.” He tipped her chin up and rested his forehead against hers. “You take as long as you need. No feeling bad.”
“How can I not feel bad?” Guilt lanced through her. “You’re hurting. And I can’t even imagine how Skylar’s going to react if she finds out. I feel like everything is changing in a way we won’t be able to survive or undo.”
And it scared her.
Brian pulled her over to the couch. “I told you, honey, no matter what, you and I are going to be in each other’s lives for the long haul. Nothing can ever change that.” He draped back against the cushions and slung an arm around her shoulders lightly. “Case in point: remember the time we got into that huge fight back in college? Just before Skylar was born? And Beth had to force an intervention between us so we’d make up?”
She grinned and settled against his chest. “I remember the intervention. I don’t remember what in the world we were fighting about though.”
“Neither do I.”
“You can’t possibly think this situation is going to end up like that ten years from now.”
“Of course not.” He peeked down at her and raised an eyebrow playfully. “Because ten years from now, we’ll be looking back at what an awesome decision you made by picking me.”
She shook her head, laughing lightly. “You’re impossible.”
He snapped his fingers. “Wait, I remember what we fought about now.”
She drew back. “Really?”
“Yes, it was because of that douche bag you were dating at the time. I told you that I thought he was cheating on you and you didn’t believe me.”
The memories came rushing back. “Oh, you’re right. I was upset because I thought you were just trying to make him look bad and set me up with one of your close friends instead.”
“And I was pissed that you didn’t believe me.”
She frowned. “You didn’t have any evidence.”
“So why’d you go and tell the jerk-off about my suspicions?”
“Okay, so maybe I believed you a little.”
“Not that it mattered. You still took his side anyway,” grumbled Brian.
“Well, he said he didn’t do it.”
“And you kept believing him over me.”
“Again, you didn’t have any evidence.”
“I told you about the pair of panties I found,” he argued back.
“Yes, but you didn’t tell me where you found it. When I pushed you to tell me more, you kept avoiding answering me. That’s when I figured you were lying, which was when I got mad.” She paused. “Come to think of it, you never did tell me where you found those panties. How the heck did we make up without you telling me the truth?”
“Because by then, we’d all discovered that he wasn’t cheating on you. But he was stealing your panties along with a bunch of other girls’ panties in his dorm...and wearing them.”
Abby covered her face in embarrassment. “Oh god, I’d completely blocked that part out.” She peeked through her fingers as she remembered the rest of the story. “I called Beth to tell her about the whole thing and she must have showed up two minutes later, nine-months pregnant mind you, to drag me back over to your house with threats that we had to make-up or else.”
She chuckled over the reminder. “That was one hardcore intervention, too. She locked us in that spare room with no food or water or anything.”
“Yep.” Brian smiled. “She really wanted us to stop fighting because she was nearing the end of her third trimester and evidently, I was irritating the living daylights out of her.”
“Okay,” she pressed, utterly curious, “so now that it’s been more than ten years, tell me the truth, where did you find those panties and why didn’t you tell me about it back then?”
He sighed. “Because you’d have gotten legitimately pissed at me if I told you the whole story.” Sulking a bit, he added, “I don’t come across looking so hot in this particular story. But keep in mind, I was just trying to protect you. That guy really was a creep. Even before the panty thing, he was a major asshole that I really didn’t think you should be wasting your time on.”
At the time, she hadn’t seen it, but afterward, yes, she’d have concurred quite adamantly with that assessment. Still. Eyes narrowed in suspicion, she didn’t relent, “What exactly did you have planned out?”
Looking as though he was fighting a losing battle with laughing his ass off, he replied quickly, “I was just going to put a little itching powder in his jock strap on the day of your date with him so if you ended up at his place that night, he’d have a full-blown rash that would look like…you know.” Another stifled chuckle.
She gaped at him. “That’s horrible!”
“I was only going to put a tiny amount,” he defended weakly. “Just enough to turn you off of him so you wouldn’t sleep with him. But when I went through his gym bag to do it, that’s when I found that pair of panties. And since Beth said you and he hadn’t done anything yet, I knew it couldn’t have been yours.”
“And you couldn’t tell me where you found the panties without revealing your awful plan to begin with.” Now it all made sense.
“I’m sorry we fought, honey. But I’m not sorry about trying to keep you from sleeping with him. Can you imagine if you had?”
Abby shuddered.
“So what do you say…water under the bridge?” he asked hopefully.
She held back her smile. Well this was an interesting development. “I don’t know.” She sighed dramatically. “That was pretty invasive what you were planning on doing... And then you lied to me just to maintain your cover for all these years…”
One corner of his mouth tipped up in admiration. “Alright, what’
s this going to cost me?”
She leaned forward in full-negotiation stance. “I want to hear some of the poker stories you and your buddies used to clam up over as soon as Beth and I would walk into the room.”
His brows drew together sharply. “The guys would kill me.”
“How would they ever find out? You did manage to keep the jockstrap thing a secret for a decade,” she reminded him, smiling as she made herself comfortable on the couch. She grabbed a throw pillow and rested her arms on it. “Okay, start talking.”
After a few dozen of the most unbelievable tales she’d ever heard, Abby was still holding her stomach and laughing so hard she was seeing stars.
No wonder the guys never wanted her and Beth to hear about these.
Every time she tried to catch her breath another image would pop in her head and cause another fit of endless giggles.
“Hey guys.” Skylar scuffle-shuffled out to the living room, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “What’re you two cracking up about? I could hear you two from my room.”
Abby clapped a hand over her mouth but couldn’t smother her humor completely.
“I’m sorry munchkin,” chuckled Brian. “Did we wake you?”
She yawned. “No, I was having weird dreams all night. So I’ve been up for a while.”
A while? Peering over at the clock, Abby sat up, startled. “Brian, it’s 4:30 in the morning. We’ve been talking all night.”
“Another new record.” Grinning, he got one of his great-idea faces and stood to gather their jackets. “Since we’re all awake, what do think about having a 5 am meeting of your little donut club?”
Skylar perked up. “Really? A Krispy Kreme run?”
A warm nostalgic blanket enfolded Abby’s memories. Whenever Skylar hadn’t been able to sleep when she was a baby, Abby would take her to watch the donuts come out of the big conveyer belt machine at their local Krispy Kreme. For some reason, watching those huge machines used to work like a charm and lull her to sleep. Of course, as Skylar became older, the excursions became more about the donuts, but the fun times they’d have remained the same; it used to be one of their favorite ways to spend time together. Only, they’d stopped going after Beth passed away, and hadn’t been back since.
Brian ruffled Skylar’s hair. “What do you say about resurrecting the tradition Sky-bug? Maybe adding one new member? That is, as long as you don’t mind your old man joining the club.”
“I’m in!” Skylar hopped up, grinning at Brian. “And of course you can join, silly. It’s a family thing.” She looked over at Abby expectantly. “How about you, Abby?”
“You in?” He held her jacket out for her.
A family thing.
Yet another swing in her vote right back this way.
“Yes,” she said softly with a smile over the invite. “I’m in.”
“YOU SURE YOU’RE FEELING OKAY, honey?” Connor’s worried gaze drifted over her face. “You look beat.”
Abby’s head was spinning. How did other women do this? Dating two men at once was slowly but sure driving her batty. She pressed her fingers into her temples. “I’m sorry, Connor. I have a little headache. I think my brain is just exhausted.”
“Well then why don’t we call it a night? If we stay home, I’ll be tempted to drag you into bed with me and if we go out, the noise from all the drunken folks celebrating St. Patrick’s Day will make your headache worse.”
Her sluggish brain processed that information at a snail’s pace. It was a good two minutes later before her cheeks flushed with heat over his suggestion for their at-home activities.
“And there it is,” he teased. “Wow, you really must be under the weather. Normally, you go from zero to sexy in a few second flat.”
She grabbed a couch cushion and mashed it into his grinning face.
“Keep that up and I’m going to have to collect payment for you not wearing any green, babe,” he warned eyebrows bobbing.
She tilted her head and smiled. “Who says I’m not wearing anything green?”
He quickly scanned her from head to toe again, groaning long, low, and hot. “Below the belt, Abby.”
“Exactly,” she giggled when it became apparent that he was counting to himself silently.
She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed flirting with Connor.
“Do you know how many nights I’ve stayed awake remembering that little red crotchless number you wore in my car?” he asked roughly, sliding his hungry eyes over her.
Yowza, she couldn’t feel more stripped if he’d had x-ray vision.
“These aren’t crotchless,” she said quickly, trying to wade them back to safer waters. “These are just plain green cotton panties.”
With a deep frown, she again caught the niggling thought tapping on the inside of her brain at the repeated mention of the word green.
Connor stopped visibly undressing her with his eyes and came over, concerned. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know…” Searching her memories and her thoughts, she tried to pinpoint her feelings of unease.
Then she gasped.
“Oh crap. I can’t believe I didn’t realize today’s the 17th. I need to take a rain check for tonight.” Shooting an apologetic look at Connor, she ran over to get her bag. “Do you think you can drop me off at Brian’s? We have an annual tradition.”
Connor hopped up to his feet and grabbed his keys. “Sure thing. What tradition?”
It wasn’t her tradition to share, and she didn’t want to lie to Connor, so she just went with the next closest truth. “The 18th is Beth’s birthday.”
“Damn, that’s right.” With a sympathetic nod, he climbed into the car.
But Abby knew he didn’t get it. No one got it. Everyone only remembered the date of Beth’s birthday, if that. The date no one remembered was the day before, the one Brian tortured himself over every year.
The day he’d committed Beth into the care home.
As they drove over to Brian’s house, Abby looked over at Connor. “I know you guys have that rule about not crossing weeks and all—”
“Honey, you don’t have to explain. Brian’s your best friend. Part of the reason why I love you so much is because of how good of a person you are. You never have to feel like you can’t be there for Brian or Skylar or anyone.” He pulled her hand up to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss over her knuckles. “Now tell me, what can I do? Should I take Skylar out for the night?”
Shoot, Skylar. Normally, Abby was so much better about arranging for Skylar to be at Becky’s on St. Patrick’s Day each year, at least for dinner if it fell on a weekday.
“Actually, that would be great, Connor. Do you think you could take Skylar out to the movies? And maybe get some frozen yogurt or something afterward?”
“Sounds like fun. I’ll text her right now.” He pulled out his phone and started typing out a quick message.
Before Abby even got a chance to ring the doorbell, Skylar yanked open the door with a bright smile. “Oh hey, Abby! I thought it was just going to be Uncle Connor.”
Connor grinned. “Gee, thanks for the ‘just,’ cutie.”
Skylar giggled. “You know what I meant.” Turning back toward the living room she called out, “Hey dad, Abby’s here too. Are you sure you don’t want to come to the movies with us?”
“Actually,” Abby interrupted, “I need your dad’s help with some business writing logistics for an article I’m working on,” she fibbed.
“Okay,” shrugged Skylar. “We’ll bring you guys back some dessert later.”
“Have fun.” Abby went into the living room and plopped onto the couch beside Brian.
He gave her a look. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to cut short your date with my brother,” he made a bit-into-a-pickle face, “just to come babysit me.”
“I know.” She grabbed the remote and began flipping through the channels. Dealing with Brian was a little like dealing with a wild animal at times. You had to let him
come to you.
“It’s not a big deal anymore,” he maintained mulishly, stealing back the remote from her and flipping over to ESPN.
“Of course it isn’t,” replied Abby quietly as they sat in silence and did what they always did every March 17th. While most folks their age were out drinking green beer and partying the night away, she and Brian actively did nothing.
Together.
Ironically, they had a similar celebration on Cinco De Mayo as well.
Only that one was for her.
It was actually how this whole tradition was born, in fact. For that one day each year, Abby allowed herself to grieve…for her failings and her losses, for the tears she’d forced herself to stop shedding. For that one day each year, she took a day of mourning even though no one else in the world was mourning with her. For that one day each year, she reminded herself that just as it had the year prior, the next day would come.
Where once this was a solo tradition she’d never told anyone about, after a few years, Brian caught on. He never pried, he never prodded. He’d simply taken it upon himself to make it a non-solo tradition. He just plain began showing up to actively do nothing with her.
Apparently butting in without asking was also a tradition for them.
On her part, she was glad to have him share her May 5ths with her. Even though Brian had no idea what it was she was actively ‘not celebrating,’ every year, without fail, he’d show up for their annual tradition of not celebrating together.
As only her best friend could.
“I really am fine, you know.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “But thanks for coming. I didn’t think you’d remember this year.”
“Why would you think that?” she frowned.
They watched TV in silence for another minute before he eventually answered softly, “I feel like you’re slipping away from me, Abby.”
The words were a knife wound in her chest. And the only way she could chase it away was by turning to give him her best, ‘you’re crazy’ look and reassuring him with every confidence in the world, “Well, I’m not. I’m right here. Nothing has changed between us.”
It wasn’t until after she’d finished saying it that she realized she’d just said her second fib of the night.