Spinster?

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Spinster? Page 14

by Thompson, Nikki Mathis


  "She left? How could she leave her kids?" Even Tess with her maternal-light instincts couldn't fathom leaving kids behind, but how could she judge? She had no idea what it was like for Mila.

  "I don't blame her, Tess. She's a good person, and she didn't choose to be sick. She tried, I know she did. I think she did the best she could for as long as she could...Part of me also thinks she didn't like taking the medication, felt hampered by it. She once told me it was like having a tight band around your head. Walking around in a body that didn't belong to her. Off the medication, she felt free." He sighed and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "Well, there you have it. The whole sad story of how the Wesley Caraway became a single father." He tried joke. "Can I confess something?"

  "Of course."

  "Part of me was relieved when she left. Does that make me a horrible person?"

  She was quick to answer, "Not at all. I can imagine how hard it must have been for you both."

  He looked so distraught, but what else could she say? How could she make it better? Sorry for you misfortune? Maybe I can babysit sometime?

  "I think we should have sex." Or that. "I mean, at some point...if you want...or not. Ugh! I'm sorry, I didn't know what to say, so I said the first thing that popped into my mind."

  Wesley looked amused. "And that was the last thing I thought would come out of your mouth after the story I unloaded. I thought for sure it was going to be thanks, but no thanks."

  "Can we forget I said it, please?" Tess asked, looking everywhere but Wesley's face.

  He put his hands on her cheeks, so she was forced to look into his blue eyes, which were coming off icy in the porch light. "Not a chance, Warner. Not a chance."

  He'd left hours before, yet Tess laid in bed, alone, tossing and turning. Analyzing the details of the night. Wes had left a few hours before, with a soft kiss to her lips and a promise to see her soon. She was still kicking herself for her mouth diacha. Who blurts stuff out like that? She did, apparently. When it came down to it, it felt inappropriate to have sex after his confession. Even as he stiffened against her thigh, palming her nipple over the lace of her bra, she knew it should stop. It was the right thing to do. Damn it.

  If and when they decided to take the final leap into physical intimacy, she needed to have thought everything through. Did she want to get tangled up in his past? With his kids? They'd experienced enough abandonment. Tess had a tendency to cut and run when it came to men. Did she like him enough to take a chance? If it was just him, the answer would be an emphatic yes. But, there was more to consider than just her attraction to him. Enjoying his company. Making each other laugh. Orgasms without even taking her pants off...not helping.

  Well, it helped a little.

  "Wow. That's a hell of a story," Willa said as they sat in the coffee shop in their office building. Tess had to tell someone, and Willa was trustworthy and level-headed. She needed a sounding board, big time. "And for once I can see why you're hesitating."

  "So, do you think I'm mature enough for this?" Tess was half kidding. She'd long peeled the paper from her lemon poppyseed muffin, but had yet to take a bite.

  Willa was thinking way too long on her response. "Jeeze, am I that bad?" Tess asked.

  "No. Well...kind of...when it comes to guys, at least. But hey, there's no time like the present to do things differently. Only if you really like him, and I know you do, or we wouldn't be here debating whether or not you're mature enough."

  "You know me too well. Yes, I like him. He's nice and funny..."

  "And hotter than my dashboard in August."

  Tess laughed. "Ha! I'm stealing that for future publications."

  Willa nodded. "It's yours." She took a drink from her double shot espresso, two sugars. "You remember when you thought you had to write a book? You spent weeks in front of your computer and all you had to show for it was one chapter."

  "An epic chapter... 'Not a woman for the ages, but for infinity itself'...or something like that. Yes, I remember, but what does this have to do with Wes and my current emotional conundrum?"

  "I'll tell you what it has to do with this, you...thinking life is one way and it being another. You, thinking you have to do things a certain way, and it being out of your hands."

  "I still don't get it."

  "You and the book you just knew you had to write. You had nothing to say, but thought it was the logical next step, anyway. Don't get me wrong, you're an amazing writer and I think you should write a book one day...except make it the one about the girl and guy who meet on the subway, not that existential tripe you were trying to whittle into being."

  "Thanks a lot!"

  "You're welcome. My point...my point? Oh, yeah, my point is, you have this idea of how your life is supposed to go. An agenda. The book was on your agenda and nothing else could come in front of it. If Wes fits nicely into your agenda then you're all for it. If not, you shy away."

  "Willa, that makes no freaking sense. Wes is nothing like my book. The book fit into my life. Wes, just doesn...oh, now I see."

  Willa nodded, like she was Yoda. "Still think you were reaching, Wills."

  "Maybe, but you get my point. You can be very single-minded at times."

  "I can't help it, I'm a Taurus...I know I can be stubborn, normally I'd just cut and run. But look, here I am discussing it with you. Asking for outside advice...Don't I get credit for that?"

  "Yes. My little girl is all grown up." Her voice went high and squeaky. Tess threw a small piece of muffin, hitting Willa's glasses.

  "Hey! These are Gucci, biatch!" They giggled loud enough to draw stares. "Look, you like him. He likes you. He has a large schlong. Seems like a no brainer to me."

  "Allegedly large. I need to get my hands on it to make my final assessment."

  "See, you want to put your hands on his schlong...there's your answer!"

  "Whether or not I'm horny is not a good gauge for relationship compatibility."

  "But it helps."

  Tess smiled. "Yeah, it helps."

  "The wife's out of the picture? They're officially divorced?"

  "Yup. Sent the papers to her parents' house shortly after she left...and last he heard, she was somewhere in Utah making pottery and wind chimes, or something of the sort."

  "Those poor little girls...but maybe it's for the best."

  "Who knows...Her parents are very involved in their lives, which makes up for it in a small way. Wes said the girls know that their mom loves them, but she's sick and needs to stay someplace else to get better."

  "Get better? But if she's off her medication, isn't that giving them false hope?"

  "Well, maybe it's a gentle way to explain it to them for now. When they get older and can really grasp the situation I'm sure it will be different. But, I'm just guessing."

  "Have you met them?"

  "Of course not. I'm sure he doesn't introduce them to anyone he dates unless it's very serious."

  "Has he introduced anyone since his wife left?"

  "Not a clue."

  "Well, it doesn't matter. Wes seems like the kind of dad who puts his kids' well-being before his own, as does any good parent. And he seems like a good dad. That says something about the kind of man he is."

  Tess looked out the window and sighed. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

  His soft chuckle vibrated the phone next to her ear. "I said, do you like to go camping? You know, tents, campfire, starry skies."

  "Oh, that's what I thought you said. I just thought you must have been talking to someone else. I don't do bugs, or the wilderness, or peeing behind bushes all that well...not counting the one time Rebel talked me into that music festival in Austin a few years ago. In my defense, the lines to the portas were a hundred people deep and I wasn't about to chance a UTI for propriety's sake."

  He laughed. "Okay, no camping."

  "Yeah, sorry. I'm more a five star hotel kinda girl,
but that's the only thing snobby about me...well, maybe my shoe collection...but that's it, I swear. I love dive bars and food trucks as much as the next gal."

  "Can I say I love how you say whatever's on your mind. It always seems like women feel they need to act a certain way around me."

  "Slutty?"

  He laughed again. "No, I have no problem with slutty... it's just refreshing is all, and rare, especially in our circles," Wes said.

  "Ooooh, our circles, you say," Tess mocked, in a fancy voice. But despite her teasing him, she knew exactly what he meant. It was all about appearances. Growing up a Warner gave Tess and her sister a crash course in playing the part. There was plenty of that depending on the event. Pinkies up, and all that nonsense.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound pretentious."

  "No, I was kidding. I know what you mean. Please, have you met my mom? And don't get me started on Crest View! They handed out the elitist prick and stuffy trophy wife starter kits in home ec."

  "How did you manage to get out unscathed?"

  "I was on the cusp, trust me. It helped that I was slightly awkward and insecure. A lot to do with not wanting to be like my mom. Getting Rebel as my roommate my freshman year and our proclivity towards cannabis usage had an impact as well."

  "You're crazy," he said with a laugh.

  "How about you? You seem very down to Earth for a guy who has it all."

  "First, I've had troubles as much as anyone else, as you now know, but my parents kept me grounded. I just never felt better than anyone else."

  "You should have, you were unbelievably hot," she teased.

  "Were?"

  "Were and are." She sighed and lifted her phone higher to her ear. "In all honesty, there's always a black sheep in the family. It's not like I had tattoos and a tongue piercing, or anything. I rebelled in subtle ways. Sarcasm, eye rolling, passive aggressive comments, you know like a female. My sister, now, she was the perfect clone of my mother. I guess I felt like since she had that role, I was free to be who I wanted. The rub was, I didn't know who that was until about five years ago. I feel like the older I get the more comfortable I get in my own skin. Cliché, yet undeniably true...I spent most of my twenties in various incarnations of other people."

  "I know exactly what you mean. Look at me. Law school, father's firm. Talk about doing what was expected. I think if it weren't for everything I—we all—went through with Mila, I might be one of those elitist pricks. She changed me when I was on the cusp, too."

  "You were always so nice in school. Everyone liked you. I once saw you help Brecken Wheeler carry his books to class when every one else was teasing him."

  "He had cerebral palsy...why wouldn't I help him?"

  "See, you were never one of them, Wesley. You were different." She bit her lip. She felt self conscious in that moment. Did she just reveal how infatuated she'd been? And why, for the love of god, did her filter always take a sabbatical when she talked to him?

  "You really think?" His voice was quiet, vulnerable. She pictured him lying on his covers wearing silk pajama pants, no boxer briefs. Yeah. Staring at the ceiling with a bent arm beneath his head. She wanted to hug him—for the man he was, for all the hardships he'd endured despite his privileged upbringing. Because he was a good man. Was he her man? That thought made her pulse quicken.

  "I know. I feel lucky to know the Wesley of then and now. I've crushed on both." Might as well lay it all out there. Filter, who?

  She could hear him breathe and it was like a caress on her skin. "Is that so?" The timbre of his voice made her shiver.

  "Yes. And I would like it very much if the now Wes would be my date for an engagement party this weekend." Jen and K-Thor, after a three month romance, were tying the knot.

  "I'd be honored...does this mean we're dating, Ms. Warner?"

  Without thinking, without pausing, she said, "Yes, I guess it does."

  "In that case, this weekend is too far away. Can I take you to lunch tomorrow?"

  She curled into her pillow and smiled. "I'd like that."

  After that conversation, Tess mentally took herself off the market. It had been quite some time since she'd considered herself exclusive with a guy. Two years, to be exact...Hugh Gallagher...he'd been the last. Oh, sweet Hugh. He was British, charming, intelligent, handsome...had the penis the size of a baby carrot. Sure they look cute in a salad, but when attached to the guy you're falling for...depressing. Coming up with an excuse to end that one had taken some serious creative writing. She'd penned a Dear Hugh letter when he'd gone back home to visit his ailing grandmother in Warwickshire. It wasn't one of her bravest moments, but she stood by her decision to say no to produce-sized cocks, unless it was a cucumber...or a Japanese eggplant, if used with lube.

  She and Wes couldn't see each other at night vey often because of his daughters, which she respected. She was just afraid something would fall through and he wouldn't be able to go with her to Jen's engagement party. Tess was dying for her friends to meet him, but at the same time she was terrified. She hadn't told anyone she was bringing a date. Stealth was the way to play this one, in the hope that it would stymie those who might run off at the mouth. For example, Rebel, Emma, Jen. Willa and Marin could be counted on to be ladies, but two out of five were not the kind of odds she wanted in this situation. Knowing Wesley like she did, which wasn't a lot, but enough, she knew he would find their kamikaze approach to verbal interaction amusing, but Tess would find it mortifying. She loved her friends, but freaking hell.

  For instance, and just a few instances, mind you, one time Rebel asked Tess's date if he wanted the number for her waxer to help him with his unibrow. Emma once asked one of her steadies if he felt anal was degrading if it was consensual. And Jen once asked her date if he shopped at the Braille store for men. Usually, she found her mates hysterical, and most of the guys in these scenarios didn't mean much to her, but this guy...this guy was a different story. Telling them to take it easy on him would only tip them off to her level of interest...which could go either way. Hence the need for a sneak attack.

  "Tess, I have it covered. The girls are going to spend the night at my parents'. Between the pool and the room they converted that now holds every toy known to man, the girls beg to go over there," Wesley assured her at their third lunch of the week. He was looking yummy in a navy suit with a starched white shirt beneath. She liked that the top button was pulled free. He said he only wore ties to court and when meeting a new client. She also liked that he requested a table with four chairs so he could sit next to her. Their knees were touching under the table and it was driving her crazy. She rubbed her ankles together to distract herself, though it wasn't working, not even a little. Most of all, she liked how he ran his pointer finger across the pad of her hand, just above her wrist, while he spoke. It wasn't a stroke of seduction. No, it wasn't deliberate, it was like how she rubbed the ends of her ponytail when she watched television—a soothing habit.

  "I know you have a plan, but don't things fall through for parents all of the time? Fever, babysitter flaked, cheerio stuck in the nose and had to go to the ER?"

  "Yes, shit happens when it comes to kids, but I'm pretty sure my folks can handle anything that comes their way—barring any cereal products in orifices. They're always saying how I should have a life, so I'm trying to. Plus, I really want to meet your friends."

  "About that...you know how I speak my mind and you find it endearing?"

  "Yes. I love it."

  "Well, keep that in mind when you meet my friends."

  That earned her a tilt of the head and a brow crinkle. "Sure, I'll keep that in mind."

  The party was taking place at Alex's, aka K-Thor's, parents' house. It was to be an intimate affair with just their parents and close friends. This was the first of many pre-nuptial celebrations, one of which being a huge dinner at a restaurant in the burbs that her cousin's family ran. Jen said she wouldn't be surprised if the entire family on both sides showed up to that one. Wed
dings were a big deal in the Korean culture. In Tess's experience, with her ambiguous Caucasian upbringing, you bought a gift at William and Sonoma, and you threw bird seed. Maybe an engagement party. Usually a bridal shower, eating tiny cakes and cucumber sandwiches, making polite conversation about nothing substantial.

  Tess knew if she ever got married it would be without hubbub—barefoot on an alabaster beach, the wind tickling her deliberately messy side chignon. The man of her dreams would also be barefoot, his sharp linen Brooks Brothers' suit pants rolled up to his calves. They would gaze into each other's eyes and say handwritten vows. Tess would cry and the groom would look at her like he'd won the lottery in life, as they clasped hands in front of their chests.

  Not that'd she'd ever thought about it or anything.

  "Thank you for lunch, again." Tess said, with a shade of disdain. She'd been upset that he hadn't let her contribute to any of the lunch bills. She knew he was simply being a gentleman, but it made her feel uncomfortable. She may not make a fraction of what he made, but she made enough to be comfortable, even with her shoe acquisition issues.

  He smiled, placing his hand on hers. "Tess, I can't let you pay. I'm sorry. It's just how I am. The fact that you don't expect me to pay is enough and one of the many reasons I like you." She noticed his list of "reasons he liked her" was growing. It made her smile to think he found so many amicable traits in her. Most of the time, she felt like she was varying shades of bitchy.

  Tess sighed, knowing there was no winning this argument. She figured she'd just spoil him on his birthday and on holidays, to even things out. And with that thought she asked, "When's your birthday?"

  He looked surprised by the question. "Why?"

 

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