They looked up at the sound of her voice. "Was that really our mommy?"
"Yes, Kate, it was." Tess sighed and took a few steps into the room, the soft carpet squished under foot. She let her toes sink. "How do you feel about that, Ella?" She directed the question to the eldest, knowing she was the one who must be reeling from their unexpected visitor. The half shoulder shrug she got in response tugged at her heart. She crossed the rest of the way and sat in the edge of the bed, wishing Wes was here to handle the questions and confusion. But he wasn't, so it fell to her.
"Girls, you know about your mom, right?"
"She's been real sick," Kate answered. Ella nodded.
"You know she would've been here all this time if she could've, right?"
They both nodded. "Nana said our mom missed us really bad and that she had our pictures hung in her room, so she could see our faces ever day, even if we couldn't be together," Ella answered. Nana, she knew, was Mila's mom. The girls went to stay with them every summer and they also came here to visit several times a year, continuing to be a part of their granddaughters' lives.
"Is she still here?" Ella asked. There was hope in her eyes, Tess saw it.
"Guys, I'm going to be honest with you. Your dad might be upset that your mom came today without him knowing, so just give them a chance to talk and work it out. I'm sure your mom will be back soon."
"Yeah, right." Ella was angry, and Tess couldn't blame her for that, not one bit. Kate didn't really seem to grasp the situation. She'd never met her mother. To her she was a one dimensional picture in an album.
"I want her to come back," Kate whined. Ella sat, silent, then closed the cover to the album, pushing it away.
"The sun's out now. Why don't we get dressed and go grab an ice cream?" The girls scrambled off the bed, the promise of sugar wiping away the moment. Tess wished it was that easy for her.
Snagging the large canvas bag that held her clothes, she dressed and braided her hair, taking her time with each overlap and twist. She glanced at her phone, knowing she had a call to make, but not really knowing where to start. When his voicemail picked up, she was filled with relief, gaining a reprieve, even if it was temporary. They could talk when he got home, no need to stress him out before his flight. She almost convinced herself that was the reason she hadn't left a message.
"She just showed up? Walked right up to the fucking front door?"
Wes had come home from his trip a few hours before. Tess hadn't had the chance to tell him before Kate beat her to it.
"Daddy, Momma came over today." Needless to say it did not go over well. He managed to hold it together long enough to put the girls to bed.
"And you let the girls see her?" His anger wasn't for her, but it was directed at her nonetheless, and that wasn't fair.
"Hey, stop right there. The doorbell rang, I told the girls to stay put. They didn't. I didn't know who it was! I thought she was a neighbor who'd lost her dog or something. How the hell was I supposed to know?" This was the first time they'd fought, and Mila was the cause. She'd been back in the picture less than twenty-four hours and she was already causing trouble.
Wes seemed to compose himself and walked over to Tess, who was standing with her arms crossed in the corner of the living room. He pulled her in to his chest. "I'm sorry." He kissed her temple and inhaled. "I know it's not your fault, it's hers."
"What's going to happen now?" Tess asked, into his t-shirted pecs.
"I'll handle it." He pulled back and looked into her eyes. "This has nothing to do with us, you hear me? I know you must be freaking out about what it all means. How it's going to change things. It's not."
"Wes, it changes everything."
"It changes nothing. I still need you. You."
"What?"
"I need you, Tess."
She bit her lip and swallowed the lump in her throat. "I might need you a little bit, too."
"You do?"
She sniffed, then laughed. "Don't sound so surprised." He smiled and kissed her, long and soft.
When they broke away she sighed and leaned into his chest again. The I need you being said should have eased her mind, but they only added another layer to the already complex lattice that was becoming her life. Maybe things would be okay. She was just in for a visit. After she left, everything would go back to normal.
But she didn't leave.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Three months. That was how long it had been since Mila had shown up on Wes's doorstep. Tess's disappointment was increased by the fact that Mila had rented an apartment a mere twenty minutes away. She'd sold her place in Utah, along with most of her sculptures, and decided to start a new life near her girls. When Mila finally sat down with Wes, a few days after her surprise visit, she'd told him the whole tear filled story, which he later relayed to Tess.
She'd apologized profusely for everything she'd put him and the girls through, that she was committed to staying healthy, that her life was shit without them. Tess had stopped him. "You, included, or was she talking about the girls?" He said he didn't know, which had disturbed her on many levels. After a moment of contemplation, he was quick to assure Tess that the reemergence of his ex wouldn't affect their relationship, they would simply need to readjust. She thought that readjusting was, in fact, being affected by it, but she kept it to herself.
Their relationship was still relatively new, and here she was having to "readjust" things to incorporate her boyfriend's ex-wife who may, or may not, have a mental breakdown at any given moment.
She felt plenty affected.
"Please, Tess. Don't give up on me. I'll handle it, okay?" Then they'd made love—urgent and intense—like he could convince her of his sincerity with his thrusts. She had believed him in that moment. And true to his word, he did all he could to shield Tess from any of it. When their paths did cross, Tess noticed Wes. He watched Mila's every move, like she might become unstable before their very eyes. Mila sensed it, too. Tess was sure that had to be nerve wracking for her, and she almost felt sorry for her...almost.
Confused was an accurate word to describe how the girls felt for the first month. Leery at best, at her supposed permanence, as if she might disappear with the wind. Tess would never admit this to Wes, but she'd hoped Mila would disappear. She'd realize she wasn't cut out for motherhood, for life on medication. It would make Tess's life a lot easier, but that hadn't happened yet. In fact, she seemed to cherish every second she was allowed to spend with the girls. Yes, allowed—she was only allowed supervised visitation twice a week. After a month it was bumped to three times a week. Since it had to be supervised, this was a lot of time Wes had to spend with his ex...watching the mother of his children snuggle and play, singing songs with her fairy tale voice. That's what Kate said. "T, she sings wike Sweeping Beauty!"
Great, just great.
Wes was considering letting her have them on her own. It would take care of the boyfriend spending copious amounts of time with his ex-wife, but it hammered home the fact that Mila was becoming a fixture. Tess liked to be the mastermind of her destiny, and since she passed the thirty year mark a few years back, she felt she'd earned the right to call the shots in regards to her life. But right now, she felt as if her life was happening without her consent. She hated feeling out of control. She hated feeling confused. And she despised feeling insecure. She had to ask herself, should she be feeling those things if this was the right relationship for her? She pushed the answer down deep, not ready to deal with that quite yet. Instead she gave herself the usual pep talk.
Be patient.
Give it a chance.
Don't bail.
It didn't take a detective to see how much the girls adored their mom. In fact, she hadn't realized how muted Ella's happiness was until she saw the full force of it once her mother was back into the picture. Tess had to remember this was about the girls, not her and Wes...but that didn't ring true, no matter how many times she gave herself the lecture.
Truth be told, Tess was starting to feel like a usurper more often than not, like she was watching someone else's life play out before her eyes. Now was one of those times—watching them huddle at the table while they sang happy birthday to Kate. Their smiles and laughter. Mila's eyes bright with joy, Wes's looked just as full. "TO YOU!" They all clapped and cheered.
"Momma, cake, cake! I want da unicorn on my piece."
Mila kissed the top of her head, narrowly missing the feathers that jutted from Kate's birthday crown. "One unicorn, coming up."
"You're going to cut the cake?" Wes teased. "I happen to remember a certain mangling of a cake in the past." He was smirking at her, a private joke. Tess's stomach turned.
"Hey, man, that was a monstrous cake...and in my defense, Counselor, I was nervous. Everyone was watching me." Mila said the last part to Tess. Oh, did she mention how nice Mila was to her? Disgusting. Tess hated it when she wanted to dislike someone and they made it very hard by being perfectly pleasant and accommodating. She still hadn't decided if it was genuine or if it was a keep-thy-enemies-closer tactic.
"They tend to do that when you're cutting a wedding cake," Wes said with a smile. The smile didn't hold love, as much as years of shared stories and whispered secrets.
Tess's stomach went from churning to all out nauseated. "I'll get some more napkins." Tess said cheerfully, backing out of the room, escaping into the kitchen. She leaned her stomach against the sink, tears burning the back of her lids. She wanted nothing more than to flee this scene of domestic bliss. Just slip out the back door, no one the wiser. But Kate. Sweet Kate would be hurt if she left before they opened presents.
Tess had picked the shiniest silver wrapping paper she could find, and lavishly wrapped tulle around it, making a bow fit for princess. Inside was a piggy bank she'd found at a small boutique. It was a purple hippo wearing a white tutu. She had Kate's name written on it's hiney. Precious, like Kate. With that thought, she stood straighter, pulling in a full batch of oxygen. Today was about Kate, not Tess's pity party. So what if she'd finally found the man of her dreams, after years of dating pervs, stiffs, and douche bags...Even if that dream man was already slipping away. She knew it, she could feel it, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. How do you fight history, and babies, and first love?
Answer was, you didn't
But that was the gamble of falling in love. The euphoria, and it's bitchy antithesis, despair.
"Hey beautiful, what's taking so long? Kate doesn't want to eat cake without you." Tess smiled at that, his voice like a warm hug.
Pull it together.
"Sorry, just captivated by the cardinal in your bush." It was an convenient lie, since there was indeed one flitting and pecking at the nest she was building. His arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on the top of her head.
"Have I told you today how amazing you are? Not many women would handle this situation with such grace."
She bit her lip. If he only knew how graceless the inside of her head was. But she was entitled to every twisted thought. They were hers, after all. Her head was the one place free of filters and expectations. Tess allowed herself to lean, transferring her weight against his chest. It was a temporary refuge, but refuge nonetheless—his scent filled her nose and his strong arms cradled her ribs. This had become her happy place. Was she going to give up all this greatness without a fight?
"Boy, you're thinking way too loud," he said. Tess felt the rumble of his voice on her shoulder blades.
"How can you think loudly? Isn't that the beauty of thoughts, that they don't make a sound?"
"Yes, under normal circumstances, with normal people. But there's nothing normal about you."
She turned, wrapping her arms around him, clasping her hands above his tight derrière. "Hey! I'll have you know, I am totally normal." She grinned. "You're right, I could hardly get that out without laughing."
His chuckle vibrated across her chest. "I only mean that you think harder than most, I can almost see your thoughts swirling about...And when I say you're not normal, I mean you aren't like anyone else I've ever met. Normal is ordinary, and you, Tess, you are extraordinary." She tilted her head and he kissed her. Soft and reassuring.
"Guys?" The sound of Mila's voice filled the kitchen and they pulled apart. "Oh, sorry to interrupt, it't just that Kate is about to nose dive into her cake if you don't hurry." Her voice held mirth, but her face told another story. That one look, no matter how fleeting, obliterated any questions Tess may have had about Mila's feelings towards Wes.
Had he noticed? If he did, his voice betrayed nothing. "Sorry, Mila. We're coming." Mila smiled, her face back to normal, and left.
Too late, Mila. I saw that.
Wesley took Tess's hand, kissing her knuckles. "Tess, I don't want to freak you out, but I'm pretty sure I'm falling in love with you." The tears that now burned her eyes were fueled by a completely different emotion than a moment before. If they'd been alone in the house she would have taken him right there on the kitchen floor. But since that wasn't the case she settled for, "Pretty sure, huh?" She teased.
His mouth curled into a half grin, his blue eyes caught a twinkle. "Okay, so I'm very sure."
"Well, as long as we're putting it out there, I guess I can add that I'm also pretty sure that I'm falling in love with you." More kissing, but it was brief, they had cake to eat.
Give this up? Not bloody likely.
"So, she's like there? All the time?" Rebel asked. Tess had needed drinks and her friends after the momentous developments that revealed themselves during a five-year-old's birthday party. One being, Wes told her he loved her for the first time. Two, realizing she loved him in kind, and she said it back...which hadn't happened since Prince had a symbol for a name. And three, and the one most fueling her need for alcoholic beverages, was the fact that Mila was still in love with her ex husband. She'd just unloaded all of the soap operatic details onto her crew, garnering various responses. Most rhymed with fuck and bitch.
Tess knocked back her Grey Goose and soda. A piece of ice slipped away from its frigid brothers, hitting her in the nose.
"Not all the time, but enough to make me uncomfortable." Willa, Marin, Emma, and Jen took up the other four seats around Rebel and Tess. Yup, she requested the whole gang to be her sounding board. She was confused and she needed advice, support, and about four more drinks.
"Does she spend the night over there?" Marin asked.
"What? No! At least, I don't think so...Oh-my-god, does she stay over?" A fresh new panic constricted the center of her chest.
"Way to go, Marin! Jesus. We're supposed to make her feel better, not drive her to the ledge and hand her a cinder block!" Emma griped. It was a good thing they were on the patio by a busy street and her voice was muted by the traffic.
"Sorry! It just came into my head and out of my mouth." Marin looked contrite, but it was a valid question, one that Tess would be texting Wes as soon as she got the chance. Which she was taking now.
"Are you texting him?" Willa asked.
"No, she's making an appointment to get her Brazilian," Rebel snipped. Willa stuck her tongue out in response. "Sorry, Wills."
Tess set her phone down. She gave her friends a weak smile. She could tell her distress was upsetting them. Tess, usually steadfast, was now more dust than rock.
"Okay, now think. Has he done anything to make you suspect he has feelings for her, or do you think you're just being paranoid?" It fell to Jen to ask the question everyone was thinking, but was too afraid to ask. Emma was outspoken. Quick to snark and say something outlandish, but when it came to direct inquiries about serious topics, she stayed mute.
Now that was the question no one knew the answer to but Wes. "I don't know. He doesn't act like it. But sometimes, when he doesn't think I'm paying attention, he gets this look of longing. I don't know if it's for the life they could have had, or the girl she once was, or the woman she is now. I don't know...guys, what do I do?"
Silence descended onto the mosaic tiled table they surrounded. Tess glanced at each of her friends. It was rare for her to ask for advice, so her friends had to grasp the level of confusion she was experiencing.
"Nothing? Shit. So, it's as bad as I was trying to pretend it wasn't."
"Sweetie, it't not that. It's complicated," Willa offered, diplomatic as always. The girls nodded.
"So, it's a losing proposition." It wasn't a question.
"Tessy, no. It's just that, we know you. You've called it quits with great guys for a lot less," Jen pointed out.
"Wow...you guys aren't worried about him. You're worried that I'll bail. Thanks a freaking lot." Tess stabbed the straw into her second drink, a pout on her lips. She knew the prospect was not unlikely, but to hear it out loud more than sucked.
"Come on, Tess. Don't be like that. You know how you are," Rebel said gently.
"It just seems like a lot more baggage than you're usually willing to deal with, that's all," Marin added.
Tess pouted still, pushing her pasta around the plate. "But I love him. I don't think I've ever really loved someone before. I mean, how many times does the boy of your dreams become the man of your dreams, huh? Tell me, when does that happen?"
"In the love songs," Jen said
"In romance novels," Marin added.
"On the Lifetime movie of the week," Emma threw in.
"Plus, you can't hold me to how I've acted in the past. Let me attempt to be a grown up, here. I'm not trying to find reasons to run. It's just my gut is telling me that I'm setting myself up for a heartbreak of epic proportions."
Again her friends were silent, suddenly paying close attention to the food in front of them.
"Your silence speaks volumes."
"Sorry, Tess. It worries me that she still has feelings for him. It puts a serious wrench in the scenario," Rebel said, lifting the uncomfortable silence.
"So, you guys think I should break up with him?" She hated even saying it out loud. It put it out there, giving it validity now that it was spoken. To think it was one thing. To speak of it, excruciating.
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