I Don't Regret You

by Larson, Jodie

  He returns my smile. “What time should I get here?”

  “Seven-thirty?”

  “You got it.”

  With one last look, I shut the door and tap the hood. Henry keeps his eyes on me as I walk to the door. The key misses the lock on the first three attempts, but I’m successful and open the door to the delight of the kids. I glance over my shoulder and barely catch a glimpse of Henry as he pulls out of the driveway and drives away. The kids drop their stuff in the entryway before yelling their goodnights over their shoulders. I walk slowly to my bedroom, still not sure what to think of the events of the night.

  Henry’s a good friend, but I need to stay away. Mike wouldn’t like it. He gets unreasonably jealous whenever a man gives me the slightest bit of attention and something like this could put him over the edge.

  Setting my alarm, I go into our bathroom and start my routine. Water drips from my face as I stare at my reflection. Lines contour my lips and eyes, making me appear older than my thirty-two years. On closer inspection, multiple gray hairs stick straight up near my hairline, as if screaming their need for attention.

  It’s not like the stress is going away anytime soon. Mike’s truck is broken, so is my car. I have no idea how he’s getting around, but I know better than to ask. Asking will only lead to yelling, which will then turn into him telling me how stupid I am. I don’t have the energy to deal with it. So, like everything else, it gets swept under the rug and shoved aside to be dealt with later.

  Hence, the little gray hairs.

  The sheets are ice cold when I crawl into bed. The coldness permeates through my flannel pajamas and socks. I curl into myself, hoping my body heat will stop the shivering from keeping me awake.

  At some point, I must have fallen asleep because I sit up, startled, when Mike slams into the bedside table.

  “Fucking furniture,” he grumbles. Leaning against the wall, he fumbles with his shoes, trying desperately to untie them but his fingers aren’t getting the message.

  “Can I help?” I say, throwing the covers back. The cold assaults me again, but not for long. Mike’s glare is enough to start a fire without needing matches.

  “I can do it myself.” He’s slurring and tilting, almost to the point of falling over.

  This can’t be good. Hopefully he doesn’t get sick like last time. Cleaning up vomit isn’t something I’d like to do tonight. It’d be nice to go to sleep before four a.m.

  “I know you can, but let me help you.” Bending down, I quickly undo the laces and slide his feet out of the shoes. He doesn’t move except to lace his fingers through my hair.

  “You look so pretty down there.”

  He must be drunk. Sex isn’t something we engage in anymore. Hell, I can’t even think of the last time we had enjoyable sex. A lot of the time it ends up with me giving in just so he can go to sleep.

  If this will get us to bed faster, I’ll go along with it.

  Looking up at him through my lashes, I bat them and smile. “Do I?”

  That’s right, pour it on. Let him see what he wants.

  Mike smiles and takes a tighter grip on my hair. “Just like you did when we were dating. Only with more wrinkles and a fatter ass.”

  I smile through the hurt. He doesn’t get to see how his words cut me. It’s what he wants, to beat me down into submission so he can walk all over me. Which he kind of does now, but I still fight back. He’s trying to erase that part completely.

  Our eyes lock, but his lids droop as if they were made of lead. The smile fades from his face just as fast. Perhaps I’ll get lucky and it’ll go quickly.

  Before I can move, his hand goes slack and his snores echo around us. Perfect. The alcohol kicked in enough to make him pass out.

  I stand and wrap his arm around my shoulders, dragging him the short distance to our bed. He falls face first with one leg hanging over the side. I strip off as much as I can without waking him and pull the comforter over him. There’s a tiny sliver of bed left after he re-adjusts himself, grumbling and making incoherent noises.

  Looks like I won’t be sleeping here. Grabbing the blanket off the chair in the corner, I walk out to the living room and lie on the couch. At least I’ll be able to get a few hours of sleep out here.

  A knock sounds at the door as I run from the kitchen back to the bathroom.

  “Jacob? Can you answer that?” The heel I’m trying to put on causes me to stumble and bounce against the wall.

  This morning has been a whirlwind of activity, starting with Mike dropping all his dirty clothes on top of me as my wake-up call. Then he walked out the door because a horn was blaring and waking the rest of the neighborhood. It was his ride and he couldn’t help get the kids ready. Since I had to throw the clothes in the washer, my whole routine was disrupted. Cassie was in charge of cereal, which was a fiasco because she wanted one kind and Jacob wanted another. They used all the milk in the process and spilled a whole bowl all over the counter. Which led to me down on my hands and knees scooping up soggy Fruit Loops and tossing them into the garbage. Of course, I knelt in a puddle of milk with my black pants but had to wait until the floor was mopped before I could change them.

  I’m half put together and only the bare minimum for makeup. Foregoing the eye shadow and mascara, I opt to wear my glasses today to give the illusion that I have eyes.

  “Mom, Mr. Monroe’s here,” Jacob calls from the living room.

  I quickly wind a scarf around my neck and adjust the only remaining clean pair of slacks I have. The timer buzzes for the washer and I quickly dart across the hall to switch the loads. Since I’m without a car, I can’t come home for lunch and do this.

  “We’re going to be late,” Cassie says from the doorway. She’s dressed and ready to go except for her gloves. I instruct her to go find them and she skips away.

  With the last piece of clothing in the dryer, I click the start button and head toward my savior of the day. Only the corner of the wall jumps out. I yelp in pain and grab my knee, hobbling to the living room as best I can.

  “What did you do?” Henry’s brows draw together as I limp to the kitchen to make sure everything is clean.

  “Nothing I haven’t done before.” I was expecting a laugh, but he doesn’t offer one. Tough crowd for this early in the morning. “Thanks again for picking us up.”

  “My pleasure.”

  I turn and the smile on my face freezes in place. Sure, I saw him, but I didn’t get a good look. Now that he’s a couple feet away, I can see him. Loose jeans, a hoodie, and a baseball cap greet me first. Then I notice the stubble still clinging to his jaw. He’s always sporting scruff that’s in between a full beard and a five o’clock shadow. Mike never grows any facial hair. I’m not sure he can. Whenever he tries, it comes in patches. I used to make fun of it when we were younger. Then he taught me not to talk back to him. I haven’t done it since and he hasn’t bothered to try again.

  It’s Henry’s ice blue eyes, though, that gets me. Almost gray in color. Like he can see right through me. Except I’ve learned to keep my body closed off to everyone. Less chance of being hurt.

  Jacob and Cassie stand next to me, holding my coat out. “Here, Mom. Don’t forget this.”

  I take it from Jacob and kiss his head. “Thanks, Buddy.” I struggle to get my arm into the other sleeve, but Henry grabs my coat and helps to guide me. I turn and brush some hair away from my face. “Thanks.”

  He smiles and claps his hands. “Who’s ready for school?” Jacob and Cassie both look unamused. Good to know it’s not just me who gets that reaction from them. “Okay, who’s ready to not do chores at home?”

  A ghost of a smile cracks Jacob’s stony face. Cassie raises her hand. “I get to go on a field trip today,” she proudly proclaims.

  Henry nods while holding the door open for us. “So I hear. Lauren’s going on it, too.”

  “Did you grab your lunch from the fridge?” I ask Cassie before she gets all the way down the sidewalk.

&
nbsp; She lifts her back and nods. “Yep. I even grabbed an extra water bottle, just in case.”

  The kids climb into the backseat again as I lock up the house and pull my coat tighter.

  “You know, it helps if you button the thing together,” Henry says next to me.

  I want to laugh, but the chattering of my teeth prevents me from doing anything else. “With as often as I get up and out of my car, there’s no point. Besides, the car is usually warm and I get overheated.”

  “How much time do you spend in your car in the mornings?” Henry starts the car once my seatbelt is secured and easily backs out the driveway and into traffic.

  “Most mornings quite a bit. We have two trips to the house because nothing ever makes it the first time.”

  Henry slows the car. “Are we forgetting anything? Because I don’t want to get too far away if we have to turn back.”

  Jacob laughs. “Mom says the same thing every morning.”

  “I’m just a little distracted most of the time. It’s hard keeping four people’s schedules straight, on top of everything else.” No one cares because if they did, I’d get help around the house. Apparently the laundry fairy does it all. Along with the cleaning fairy and the cooking fairy. Or so my family thinks.

  Within ten minutes we pull up in front of the school on the first try. A new record for us.

  “Bye, Mom.” The kids open their doors, but I jump out of the passenger side before they get to the sidewalk.

  Squeezing them as tight as I can, I kiss their foreheads and smile. “Have a good day at school.”

  Jacob rolls his eyes while Cassie kisses my cheek. “We will, Mom. Have fun at work.”

  Fun isn’t exactly what I’d call it. I wave until they disappear with the rest of the kids filing through the front doors.

  Climbing back into the car, Henry gives me a funny look before pulling away from the curb. “Do you always do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Kiss them on the sidewalk.”

  “Yes. Why? Is it weird?” I know I’m not the only parent to do it because there’s a bunch of moms lined up every morning doing the same thing.

  “Sort of. Just imagine it from Jacob’s point of view. He’s what, ten now?”

  “Almost eleven.” Which reminds me I need to start preparing for his birthday party. I have a few months, but it may take me that long to figure out what we’re going to do.

  “So imagine being a boy and having your mom kiss you in front of all your friends every morning. It’s embarrassing.”

  Now he’s lost his mind. “No, it’s not. Other moms do it.”

  Henry gives me a sympathetic look. “And do you notice the age of these kids?”

  “I-” Pausing, I try really hard to picture it. “Okay, so they’re more first grade than fifth.”

  “Exactly. Take it from me. Boys don’t want their mom’s kissing them in public.”

  “Were you scarred for life because your mom did it to you?”

  He laughs. “No, but my friends hounded me relentlessly every time she did. I finally told her to stop, which she didn’t take well. So I compromised. She could kiss me goodbye at home, but once we reached school, there was no further contact.”

  “Sounds horrible.” I fidget with my fingers as I look out the window. We drive past my car again, still parked in the same spot. I pull out my phone and set up a reminder to call the auto shop to have them tow it and figure out what’s wrong with it. Then set up some sort of payment plan so I don’t take a huge chunk of money out for the week.

  We don’t say anything else on the ride to my office. Henry must know my brain is functioning on little sleep and processing too much information to be a good car companion.

  “Do you need help getting home tonight?” He pulls into my lot and parks near the front door.

  I shake my head. “The auto shop usually gives me a loaner when it’s being worked on.”

  “Well, if they can’t, give me a call and I’ll help you out.” Henry grabs an old receipt and scribbles his phone number across the back of it. “Even if it’s busy, I’ll come get you.”

  “No, don’t worry about it,” I say, pushing the paper back to him. “You have a business to run and can’t jump away, especially at your busy hour. I’ll figure it out.”

  “And what about the kids? Are the three of you going to walk home in the cold?”

  Shit. Forgot about that. By the time their activities are finished and we walked, it’d be almost six o’clock. Not to mention I still have dinner to make. The whole thing is depressing.

  “Mike could…” I stop, remembering he doesn’t have a truck right now either. And because his friend is doing it, he’ll get his back sooner than I probably will.

  Henry’s right. I’m going to need him.

  “I won’t take no for an answer.” He shoves his number at me again. This time I take it.

  “If something else comes up, I’ll let you know,” I tell him, mindful of giving him false hope that he really is my savior today.

  “Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Not everyone is selfish.” I know he’s referring to my husband. As his wife, I should stick up for him, but as the person he beats down the most, I can’t argue with the facts.

  I brush the hair away from my face and smile. “Thank you, Henry, for everything this morning. It was really sweet of you.”

  He gives me a wink. “Anytime.” I open the door but don’t get far as Henry calls me back. Leaning down, I poke my head through the opening. “If you haven’t figured out dinner yet, swing on down to the restaurant. I can whip something up for you guys.”

  “You’ve done enough today. Thanks for the offer, though.” I close the door and press my palm against the window.

  I can feel Henry’s eyes on me as I walk to the door. Against my better judgment, I turn at the door and confirm it. He smiles, gives me a wave, and pulls out of the parking lot, back to his own life without the mishaps and hassles of mine.

  Not sure what I did to deserve his interference, but today, I’m glad he was here. Somehow we went from sort-of acquaintances to friends in the matter of a day. For someone like me who doesn’t have many friends, it’s comforting to know good people still exist in the world.

  As soon as I walk to my desk, Brenda is on me. “Who was that?”

  Oh, God. I forgot about this part. Small town equals gossip mill and the last thing I need is for any of this to get back to Mike before I have the chance to explain things to him.

  “My friend. He gave me a ride since my car broke down last night.”

  “Friend?” She raises a brow. “That’s all you’re giving me?”

  I nod. “Yep.” Placing my headset on, I start working on the claims as they come up on the system. Brenda takes the hint and goes back to her cubicle. I’m sure she’s pouting and coming up with all sorts of possibilities as to the mystery man who drove me to work. Honestly, it’s not that big of a deal.

  Noon rolls around before I know it and my stomach growls. Living on the crappy coffee in the break room isn’t enough to stave away the hunger I’ve been fighting all morning. Halfway to the kitchen area, I slow my steps. It’s lunchtime and I didn’t head straight to the fridge when I got here to drop anything off. Which means…

  I want to cry. My lunch is still sitting in my fridge at home, all neatly packed and ready to eat. Only no one will be eating it. I can’t go out to lunch, because of the obvious, and there isn’t a place nearby I could walk to and be back here before my half hour is up.

  No point in spending my time sitting lonely and watching others eat. I head back to my desk, holding my stomach in hopes it’ll quit talking. Two minutes after sitting down, Leslie, the front desk receptionist, buzzes my phone.

  “Joss, you have a delivery up front.”

  “Um, really?” Who in the hell would send me something?

  Not wanting to waste time, I head up front and find a takeout bag sitting on Leslie’s desk.

  “So
meone dropped this off for you.”

  I take the plastic bag and peek inside. The most delicious aroma emanates from within, making my stomach talk loudly again.

  “Do you know who dropped it off?” Not that I need her to tell me what I already know. Only one person could be responsible for this.

  She shakes her head and continues typing on her computer. “Nope.”

  Okay. Good conversation.

  I take my bag and head back to the break room, practically salivating as the food inside teases me with its deliciousness.

  Inside the black Styrofoam box sits a big, juicy cheeseburger with all the fixings, sweet potato fries, and a side of coleslaw. Holy crap. This is way too much food. Not to mention it goes against my usual diet of a plain salad. What I should do is cut it in half and save part of it for tomorrow. That will help my calorie count and save on my headache of what to bring for lunch.

  Is Henry this nice to all his friends? If so, we should have started hanging out long ago. Who knew being friends had this sort of benefit?

  I bite into the burger, mindful to hunch way over the table so I don’t dribble down the front of my shirt.

  Oh. My. Heaven.

  This is the best burger I have ever tasted. So juicy and savory, like he’s put a bunch of different spices right into the mix, but not so it’s overpowering. I’m always afraid to bite into burgers that aren’t well done, but after this first bite, I’m convinced I’ve been missing out. He even picked a specialty cheddar to go on top. No condiments are needed, especially with the fresh tomatoes and lettuce.

  Now I feel spoiled. Definitely unworthy because I haven’t done anything for him. And he’s gone out of his way for a solid twenty-four hours to make my life easier.

  The shoe is going to fall soon. Nothing good ever happens to me.

  I’ll worry about it in twenty minutes…when this food is gone and I can fall easily into a coma at my desk.

  I practically kissed the auto shop guy when he said a loaner was available. I’m sure if I would have latched on too long he would have called the cops on me. Apart from early this morning, things seem to be going well today.