Trouble Won't Wait

by Autumn Piper

  * * * *

  At home, I find an email before I go out to run.

  Sloane,

  I want you so much. Every minute, in every way. I know it’s insane, but if I could, I’d marry you next Friday. Those three big little words keep coming up in my thoughts when we’re talking. I’ll save them, knowing you probably aren’t ready for them yet. But when you are, I promise to–insert little word–you like you’ve never been before. And for always, okay? For always. Yeah, like you’re really ready to hear all this, right? Sorry, had to say it.

  Crazed Always,

  Ferris

  I wrap my arms around my silly self for a little hug. I love you too, Ferris. I may be damned eternally for it, but I do.

  I run the entire loop today, I’m so jazzed up. He loves me!

  Heaving great needy breaths, I’m stumbling exhausted when I get into the cemetery, but I grin when Adam comes out his back door. I run through his back gate with the little strength I have left and throw myself in his arms, bumping him against the wall. Sweat drips down my neck and off my forehead, and I’m still trying to get my breath. I lean against him, letting him hold me tight, and it doesn’t feel wrong.

  “Do you think I’m cheating?” I need to know. I don’t want him to believe I’d ever cheat on him.

  “No. Your marriage is over, except by law. Besides, we haven’t done anything.”

  “Not anything?” I think we’ve done something, I just don’t know what he would consider cheating.

  “Not cheating. Why, does this bother you?”

  For my answer, I shimmy closer to him. If we were inside, I’d probably do much more. I kick around the idea of going in. “No, but I’m about to leave my guilt-free zone. I better go.”

  Before I back away, he pulls me around to the door and inside for a scorching kiss. I find my hands traveling, grasping his rock-hard butt, using it as leverage to press myself against him and feel how hard he is for me.

  When his mouth moves down around my neck, I arch against him, spiraling out of control. I hear myself murmuring his name again and again. His hand cups a breast and I suck in my breath. The Guilt-free City Limits sign is in my rearview mirror. “Help me stop, please. No, don’t stop. Oh, please, we have to stop. It’s been so long, I feel like I’ll die.”

  He’s pulled me close against him, and he talks into my sweaty hair. “You think it’s been a long time for you?”

  “Okay, how long has it been, hot bachelor?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me.”

  I nip his shoulder to prompt him to talk.

  “Two years.”

  “Bullshit!” I laugh.

  “I knew you wouldn’t believe it.”

  I pull back to look at his face, and he’s not joking. “My God, it’s almost a medical emergency! Should I have paramedics standing by for us next week?”

  He swats my bottom, then squeezes me when I yell.

  “Shit, I’ve been tempting fate comin’ around here. You should get in the Guinness Book or something. Can you document that?”

  Another swat.

  “I got your email.” I’m earnest now.

  “And?” He’s holding his breath, I can feel.

  “And I ran the whole three miles here.”

  His breath goes out with a chortle.

  “Hey, Ironman, you’ve gotta release me so I can get home to the real world.”

  “This is real, Mandy.”

  My heart just missed a beat. “Yeah, I know,” I sigh, elated. “Still, I have to go. Thanks for lunch, and the email, and this.”

  He lets me go and I blow him a kiss on my way out his door.

  When I get to the street, I see him up in his studio, watching me. He can see me up the street until I turn off to my own.

  My phone rings as I’m rounding the corner. It’s him.

  When I answer, he says, “I miss you already.”

  I laugh and admit to feeling the same, with a promise to call later.

  * * * *

  Rachel wants to make treats for her class party tomorrow, so we venture down the hill to the grocery store for ingredients.

  “Mama?”

  “Yeah, sunshine?”

  “Will you and Daddy be married forever?”

  Shit. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Cause Damon’s mom and dad are getting a divorce, and they fight lots. You and Daddy don’t fight, so I guess you won’t get a divorce.”

  God, give me strength. “Well, honey, it’s more important for kids if their parents love them, than if they’re married, right?”

  “I guess. But don’t weddings say ‘death to us part’? Doesn’t that mean forever?”

  Careful not to smirk at her getting the words mixed up, I answer, “Yeah, baby, it does. People get married intending for it to be forever. But sometimes, well, people change and they don’t get along anymore.”

  “Or one of them has an affair, like on TV.”

  “On what TV?” Good grief, she’s ten!

  “Mom!” That’s the Welcome to the Twenty-First Century tone. Okay, yeah, she knows what an affair is.

  Pulling into a parking space, I sigh at how world-wise kids are these days. “Yeah, or one of them has an affair. But no parents get divorced because of their kids, understand? It’s always grown-up things that cause divorce.” Or slutty acquaintances.

  Rachel rolls her eyes and walks beside me holding my hand, to buy her Rice Krispies and marshmallows, and the red and green M and M’s she wants to smash into the top.

  We’re making the treats when Mike gets home and scoops a hot handful out of the pan where Rachel just finished mixing them. “There’s my two favorite girls!” he cries, standing between us and tickling Rachel with his free hand while he plants a sticky kiss on my forehead. It seemed he was aiming for my lips, but I ducked my head a second before he made contact. He whistles past a mouthful of Rice Krispies as he strolls through the living room to shower.

  Supper is an unusually happy affair, with Mike teasing the kids and telling me jokes. I’m getting afraid Adam was right and something is up. After dinner, Mike calls Rachel back to her room. She emerges a few minutes later, skipping and swinging her arms in arcs around her, and I know she has a secret. I’m hoping Mike didn’t show her the ring he bought. The return still hasn’t come up on his credit card, though he daily drives past a franchise of the store he bought it from. And he did say he was keeping it, because one day I’d forgive him and it would still be there for me.

  Rachel and I are cutting the treats and wrapping them in red and green plastic wrap when Ben and Mike disappear.

  In a short time, Ben yells, “No! You can’t make her do that! Just leave her alone. You ruined it. This is your fault!”

  Mike’s low voice rumbles, but I can’t make out what he’s saying, then Ben starts shouting again. “You don’t have any right. You’re not telling me what to do. I hate you!” Ben runs downstairs, and I rinse my hands. Time to go find out what the problem is.

  On my way to ask Mike what’s up, I hear Rachel yelling down the stairs at Ben, “You ruin everything, you know that? Why do you hafta be such a jerk to him?”

  From downstairs, “Shut up, little baby! You don’t know anything about anything. Just shut up and go play with your dolls.”

  I find Mike glaring out our bedroom window. “What happened?” I’m calm and nonjudgmental. We’ve always presented a united front when it came to disciplining the kids. When we disagree, it’s behind closed doors, and they usually don’t know it happened at all. I think we’ve done a great job working as a team.

  “I planned a trip, and he’s throwing a fit about it.” Mike still hasn’t turned to face me.

  “What kind of trip?” Tremors of suspicion shake my calm.

  “Snowmobiling up to the cabin for the week.”

  “A week? Are you insane?” Now I’m just mad. Like I’m snowmobiling to the middle of nowhere with him!

  Turning to face me, Mike puts his ha
nds out, palms up. Beseeching. That’s the word for his posture. “So we could get away and put our family back together.”

  I shove the bedroom door closed so we have more privacy. “This family is not getting put back together, Michael. We’ve got a Humpty Dumpty family. Remember, ‘All the king’s horses, and all the king’s men?’”

  “You could at least try. I love you Mandy. I know you still love me. You told me so. Please give it a shot. You owe me that much, after thirteen years.”

  I’m still trying to get my head around how we ended up back at the “I love you” scene, when my head snaps up at this crack about what I owe him. “Owe you? All debts are off when your dick enters some other woman, Michael. Null and void. All debts are off! Got it?”

  “How ’bout just five days?”

  “What, and miss our last session with Baldwin? Not for the world!”

  “Sunday and Monday? Please, Mandy, I need you in my life so much. Maybe it’s this house. Could you forget about it if we moved? I’ll buy you any house you want, baby. Please.”

  This guy just doesn’t get it. I back away, holding my fingers in a cross, like he’s a vampire.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Warding off the stupid, so I don’t catch it from you. You wanta talk to Ben, or should I?”

  “I’ll ground him if he talks to me that way again.”

  I sigh. “He shouldn’t talk that way, but he’s trying to protect me. He knows what you did, Michael. Wouldn’t you hate your dad for that, too?”

  He sits on the bed and holds his head in his hands, nodding. “Just one night?” he asks.

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” Leaving the room, I jerk the door shut behind me.

  I manage to convince Ben he still has to respect his dad and accept that he’s only human. We all make mistakes. Yadda, yadda. All the while, I’m thinking what a load of BS I’m feeding my own son.

  Ben apologizes to his dad, though by his posture I can tell he’s still angry. Then he apologizes to Rachel, and invites her to a game on Playstation. We’re all still standing, if a little shaken after the minor quake today. How rough will the next one be?

  * * * *

  I’m in bed, waiting for Adam to answer his phone. It’s going to voice mail. That’s never happened before. Not to me, anyway.

  I dial again and he answers, out of breath. “Sorry, I was trying to catch Rascal. He went in the garage earlier and I didn’t want him trapped out there all night.” He catches his breath then, “Hi, baby.”

  I don’t like him calling me baby, but I won’t say anything. Maybe later.

  “Hi, yourself.” I can hear Rascal meowing and then Adam yelping at him to get off. “Do you wish I never got you the cat now?”

  “No, not yet. How’s your night?”

  I tell him what Mike tried to plan. “He wanted the kids to help him pack and trick me out of here, but Ben pitched an enormous fit and stopped him in his tracks.”

  “Ben sounds like my kinda guy.”

  “You guys will get along great. Tell me something about you, like where you went to college.”

  He balks at this, and I remind him I can easily find this out on the internet. At last, he fesses up to Harvard. Good grief, he must have been an incredible student to get a scholarship there!

  He asks, “Did you call Art at the publishing house?”

  “Not yet. Are you proud of me for stopping Mike in his tracks on the snowmobile trip?”

  “Yeah. Do you like that kind of thing? Snowmobiling, camping?”

  “I like most anything, with the right person. But yeah, we’ve had some fun times up there in the winter. You?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  I can hear him scribbling on paper.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making notes for, uh, work.”

  “You look good in a suit.”

  Whatever he’s doing, tapping the keyboard of his laptop, he’s obviously busy, because he’s not even replying.

  After what feels like minutes, I give up. “Okay, I’m gonna turn in now. Goodnight.”

  I get a distracted “’Night” for an answer. It’s odd for him to be so preoccupied when we’re talking. Oh well, he must have a reason.

  I’ve all but hit the End button when I hear him yell, “Wait!”

  “What?”

  “Don’t go, I’m sorry. I just had to finish that. You liked my suit?” His voice is eager now, all ready to talk.

  I smile because my compliment finally registered. “The suit’s nice, but mostly I like you in it.”

  “I’ll wear it anytime, if I can have lunch with you. Or dinner, or breakfast in bed…”

  “Speaking of bed…” I don the phone sex voice.

  “I don’t think we’ll do that tonight. It’s drivin’ you crazy, since you won’t participate.”

  “I like doing that with you.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll wait ’til next week now.”

  “I guess after two years, a week is nothing, huh? Why has it been that long?”

  He’s silent at the other end.

  “Adam?”

  Still silent.

  “Never mind, I didn’t mean to pry. Are you still there?”

  A very rough, “Yeah.” Something has him all choked up. Some chick must have broken his heart but good. Was it Laura?

  I’m dying to ask, but won’t risk upsetting him again. Instead, I’ll try to cheer him. “Hey, you know the definition of a transvestite? A man who likes to eat, drink, and be Mary.” I hear him chuckle, followed by a very small sniff I’m sure he didn’t intend me to hear. “Ben told me that earlier. You know where the quietest place in the world is? The complaint department of a parachute packing plant.”

  “Ready to go to sleep, Leno?”

  “Yeah. Sorry I upset you.”

  “It’s all right. Goodnight, Sloane.”

  “’Night, Ferris.”

  Chapter 11

  Last day of school until the new year. When my kids return to school, their parents won’t have the same emergency contact numbers. This is what goes through my head after getting Rachel to school with all the treats and gifts for her class party.

  Today I’m taking Aunt Clara to lunch. I finagled the date with her by promising to send Ben, Jake and Rachel over tomorrow to help her build a stage set for some talent contest on New Year’s Eve. The kids adore her, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

  Aunt Clara loves Subway. The sheer novelty of having such a selection of toppings is mind-boggling to a person who lived through the Great Depression and spent the first thirty years of her life without a refrigerator. It’s only eleven AM when we walk through the front door of the restaurant. We lunch early for two reasons: because the lady is up before the roosters–ready for lunch by about ten thirty–and because she’ll take somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty-five minutes to have her sandwich built, and all employees on site will be involved before she’s done. Since I always bring her before the lunch rush, she doesn’t understand that only one person usually builds each sub.

  Having sent the sandwich back down the prep table countless times to add vegetables and cheeses she forgot, Clara finally decides her bread is satisfactorily loaded. She has her footlong cut in fourths, which I know she’ll finish off by tomorrow morning.

  After I’ve filled both our drinks and I’m sitting across from her unwrapping my sandwich, she announces, “You look happier than a robin in a wormpatch. You’re not takin’ visits from the one-eyed snake, are ya?”

  “No!” I laugh. “Eat your sandwich.” I knew she’d be able to tell something was up.

  She eats few dainty bites of her sub. “Spit it out, child. Did ya find a cure for saggin’ breasts? Cut me in for half, and mum’s the word.”

  “Aunt Clara, do you think it’s possible to fall in love with a man at the same time that another one is breaking your heart?”

  “’Course,” she answers, like I’m silly. “If the dog’s runnin’ out the
back door, company can still come in the front, can’t they?” That’s all she has to say, so she starts crunching her Cheetos.

  “And would you think it’s wrong to let that happen, if you’re still married?”

  “We can’t help who we love, child. Same as we can’t choose our family.” More romantic than I’d have expected. And…wow.

  This truth resonates to the core of my beliefs, leaving my spirit humming with joy. I’m not the bad person I’ve been fearing I am.

  “If the Lord sent somebody to you already, He must’ve had his reasons.” Wow again–she seldom talks about God, either.

  “I love you, Aunt Clara.” And I do. The way she words things always puts life in perspective.

  She bats that away. “Eat, child, before the north wind blows you away.”

  I’m biting into my sandwich when a group of guys enters, talking and laughing. One of them is Adam, wearing a black GasKo baseball cap. As if he can hear my thundering heart, he turns and looks right at me. Maybe he saw the Durango outside and knew I was here. He winks, and I feel my smile growing wider than my sandwich is long.

  Aunt Clara has noticed my love-struck look, and turns to take in Adam, who is now ignoring the conversation around him. “Good choice, Amanda. That one even gets the blood pumpin’ through plumbin’ as old as mine.”

  Adam has a question in his eyes, and I answer it by waving him over. He nods and gets in line for his sandwich.

  “You won’t mind if he eats with us?” Well that was rude of me. I guess I should have asked her before, instead of letting my hormones usurp my manners.

  “Not as long as I get to sit by him!”

  I laugh, and Clara tells me all about the talent contest at the senior center. She’s planning to play Auld Lang Syne on a duck-call.

  I mumble how I think it will be great, and she cackles. “I’m just pullin’ your leg, and you fell for it cause your head’s so high in the clouds right now, you don’t know if your feet are in Colorada”–Our state ends with an ‘ah’ sound to all the old-timers–“or in Kintucky.”