With the Father

by Jenni Moen

  “Whatever,” I said, dismissing the compliment. “I could have shown up in a muumuu, and you’d act the exact same way.”

  “Muumuus are hot. Besides that’s just more fabric for me to imagine peeling off of you.”

  “Maaaaddox.”

  He laid his fork down. His eyes softened and held mine in a silent plea. “Give me a chance, Kate. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. I promise, it won’t be boring.” While he waited for me to speak, he nodded the yes that he was hoping to hear from me.

  I had no good reason for denying him. He was funny and good looking. Charming when he wanted to be. If I could have asked the boyfriend fairy to find the perfect man for me, she would have delivered Maddox on a silver platter.

  There was also no denying that I was attracted to him. Once upon a time, he’d charmed the pants right off of me. However, even then, I’d known it wasn’t sustainable. My life had been halfway across the country, sometimes halfway around the world, and he hadn’t seemed like the kind of guy who could commit anyway. I’d had no problem walking away. To me, that said it all.

  I drank in the sincere look on his face and tried to feel it again. I wanted to want him. I really did. I wanted nothing more than to want him like he wanted me. But something was holding me back. Someone was holding me back. Even with the perfect guy sitting across from me, someone else was on my mind.

  It was stupid and crazy and ridiculous, and I needed to put an end to the madness. I needed to get Paul out of my head. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

  His blue eyes blazed victoriously, and he picked up his fork and starting eating again. “I’ll have you screaming ‘yes’ before you know it.”

  “I said I would think about it.”

  It was an act. I was playing hard to get even though I’d already made up my mind.

  I was not going to run with Paul tomorrow, and I was going to go on another date with Maddox.

  I looked out of the restaurant window and watched a group of kids break an egg onto the sidewalk across the street. They gathered around it to see if it would fry.

  I reconsidered. I would run with Paul tomorrow. But only because it was supposed to be 102 degrees by mid-afternoon.

  But when Maddox asked again, I was going to go out with him again. I was going to get Paul out of my head once and for all.

  BLINDSIDED

  Grace

  I walked through the gate and carefully closed it behind me. Aurora’s stub of a tail wiggled in anticipation of the face licking ahead. Chubs lapped from the water faucet in the middle of the park, his owner by his side.

  Aurora pulled against me until I let go of the leash and then she headed toward him as if she knew exactly why we were there. He barked a gruff hello and then, as expected, greedily licked her drooping jowls.

  “You’re here,” Paul said, smiling broadly. “I was about to give up on you.” His ball cap pulled low on his head again, obscuring his eyes in the shadow of the brim.

  “I made it,” I said while still assessing him. The first couple of times I’d seen him dressed like this, in a t-shirt and jeans with flip flops on his feet, it had felt like a disguise, as if he was hiding behind this look of normalcy. The outfit was so different from what I’d come to expect of him over the years. However, I was beginning to realize that I was now seeing another version of the man I already knew. It felt as if he was bestowing a privilege on me that few in town had been given. “I’m still getting used to seeing you like this.”

  He laughed. “Do you feel you’re meeting a stranger?”

  “No,” I said, being completely honest. “ I think I’m more comfortable with you like this.”

  “I thought you might,” he said, indicating that his new look was for my benefit.

  “Aren’t you breaking the rules?”

  He looked uncomfortable, and I regretted asking. “You want to walk?” he said, instead of answering.

  “That would be great.” I glanced up at the sky. At half past eight in the morning, the sun was already blazing.

  He pulled an empty, somewhat squashed water bottle out of his back pocket and unscrewed the cap. He leaned down and held it under the faucet. “Let’s go then,” he said, stuffing it back in his pocket after it was halfway full. “Same direction or different?”

  I looked in the direction we’d walked last time and then turned in the opposite direction. It led to the main street of our small downtown. “I’d like to go the other way. Do you mind?” I had an uncontrollable urge to do everything different. Today, I wanted everything in my life to be different.

  “We can go whichever way you like.”

  “Aren’t you worried that someone will see us?”

  “See us walking?” he asked. “There’s nothing wrong with two people walking their dogs together.”

  “People will talk,” I said. “It’s hard to outrun a rumor in this town.”

  “I’m not worried.” He said it definitively, as if he wasn’t the least bit concerned.

  “I guess people will probably just think you’re helping me anyway. Everyone thinks I’m in need of saving as is.”

  “Are you?”

  “I think I may be beyond saving. I feel like a living casualty most of the time.” The statement was so overly dramatic that I almost laughed at my own instability.

  “I don’t believe that. You just need time. You’ve been through a lot. It’s a lot to digest.”

  We fell into quiet step with each other while I considered his words. “I’m glad you came,” he said, after a few minutes. “I worry about you a lot, Grace.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m okay.”

  I didn’t really believe that. Jonathan’s affair filled me full of a new kind of rage. It wasn’t the quiet rage that I felt over losing my family. It was a loud, clanging rage that beat against the walls of my chest, begging to burst through. I’d been lied to, cheated on, betrayed, and disregarded. I wanted to lash out at the man who’d let me down, but I would never get the chance. I would never be able to yell at him or ask him why he’d done it. I would never get to hear his petty excuses. I would never be able to ask him why I hadn’t been enough.

  Knowing all of this only made me angrier. However, even the briefest moment with those thoughts was immediately followed by an even more crippling sense of guilt.

  Guilt had become my middle name, an element so completely a part of my being that I couldn’t remember any more what it felt like not to have the burden of it resting on my shoulders.

  “It’s kind of hard to be angry at the man who died trying to save my children, isn’t it?” Especially when I’d done nothing to save them myself. My voice didn’t waver, but I kept my eyes trained on the sidewalk in front of us. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t meet them. If I looked up, he’d see me. The real me. The angry, wounded woman with a borrowed future she didn’t want.

  “Is it? The two acts seem entirely separable in my mind. You are entitled to feel whatever you’re feeling. Go ahead. Be angry. Feel it so you can move on.” My head was right there with him. Unfortunately, my heart was having trouble keeping up.

  I was deeply regretting the turn this conversation had taken. I didn’t want to talk about Jonathan or his affair. Being around Paul the other day had been so easy. It wasn’t that it was hard now. It wasn’t. Paul always made conversation easy, but today felt different. He was different.

  When we’d gone to dinner with Kate, he’d been relaxed and funny, and he’d only just met her, leading me to believe that the quiet, serious Paul that frequented Karen’s Kitchen was more for my benefit than because it was actually his nature to be so. I wanted to see the other Paul. The one who’d had dinner with us at the burger restaurant. The one who’d almost made me laugh. The one who had made Kate laugh.

  I tried to think of something lighthearted to change the mood, something that didn’t involve any aspect of my life, but I came up with nothing so I walked on in frus
trated silence. As I stepped off the curb, a horn blared, and I was yanked back just as a car whizzed by, nearly clipping my left foot.

  “Whoa,” Paul said. He continued pulling on my arm until we were standing hip to hip in the safety zone of the sidewalk. “The light’s red, Grace.” There was a catch in his voice.

  I watched breathlessly as traffic continued by as if nothing had happened. The car had been so close that I’d felt the air stir around me. My carelessness could have cost me my life. It could have all been over. If Paul hadn’t pulled me back, it might have been. Just as suddenly as the realization dawned on me, I was blindsided again. Something stirred inside of me, something I’d thought I would never feel again. With Paul’s hand still gripping my arm tightly and my heart still thumping wildly in my chest, I came to a decision.

  I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live.

  Paul thoroughly inspected me while repeatedly asking if I was okay. I assured him that I was fine. When we stepped off the curb again, however, I realized that I was better than fine. I felt it. An energy. I wanted to walk a little bit faster. I wanted to go wherever it was that we were going, and I wanted to be there just a little bit sooner.

  This time, as we walked, I was able to successfully turn the conversation to easier topics. We didn’t talk about Jonathan. Instead, I pumped him for information, learning little things that I’d never thought to ask before today. Simple things, like music and books. And I learned that his tastes were similar to mine.

  Six blocks later, we found ourselves turning onto the main street. “Would you like to stop?” he asked, pointing to the coffee shop up ahead.

  The small, locally owned coffee shop with its French style bistro tables had always been one of my favorite places in town. “If you wouldn’t mind.” Stopping for coffee seemed like something incredibly normal that normal people would do.

  “Not at all. I love this place,” he said, already clipping a leash to Chubs and tying him to a chair at the first table we’d come to. He took the crumpled water bottle out of his back pocket and unscrewed the lid and poured some onto the dog’s muzzle. He did the same for Aurora who was already sprawled out on the concrete in the shade of the table. Finally, he turned to me. “Stay here, and I’ll get us some drinks. What would you like?”

  “An iced latte, please,” I said, securing Aurora next to Chubs.

  A few minutes later he returned with my drink and a bottle of water for himself. “No coffee?” I asked.

  He pulled the crumpled water bottle out of his back pocket and sat down. “Nope. I can’t stand the stuff.”

  I laughed. “But you said you love this place, and I know I’ve seen you here before.”

  He smiled and ducked his head. “It’s not about the coffee. I come here to watch people.”

  I looked around. Nearly every table was full of people laughing, reading, talking, eating, just being. “If you sit here for long enough, the entire town will pass by.”

  “No doubt. See those ladies there,” he said, pointing to two older women who were having coffee and playing cards. “They were here the last time I was. I’m sure of it.”

  “Do you like it here?” I asked. “You’ve been here for what … two years?”

  “It’s different. There are some things I love about it and some things that I could do with out, but honestly there’s no place I’d rather be right now.” He looked at me with such intensity that I wondered if he was talking about the town or the smaller piece of real estate that we were currently occupying.

  “Like what?”

  “Well, the small town drama is different from what I’m used to. I’m not used to everyone knowing everyone’s business and thinking that they need to be a part of it. Some of the things that go on between the moms at the preschool seem crazy to me.” His face fell as he realized what he’d said. “I’m sorry, Grace. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

  “It’s okay.” I gave him what I hoped was an encouraging smile. “Really. I’m not a ticking time bomb that could explode at any minute. At least, not at this moment. I actually feel pretty good right now.”

  Paul looked pleased. “So why do you think that is?”

  “I don’t know. I feel different. I think that the near death experience I had a few blocks back did something to Gloomy Grace.” I wasn’t going to tell him, but I was pretty sure that he had as much to do with it as the car that had nearly run over me.

  “Gloomy Grace is okay in my book, but Giddy, Gregarious, Goofy Grace is good, too.”

  I laughed but looked at him skeptically.

  “Well, if Giddy, Gregarious, Goofy Grace is going to rejoin civilization, she needs to try to act like an active participant, don’t you think? I don’t want anyone, especially you, feeling like they need to tiptoe around me. Besides, you’re right about the moms. They are silly, and it takes some getting used to.”

  As if our conversation had willed her to be there, Arden breezed up to our table. From where she’d come, I wasn’t sure. I’d been so lost in my conversation with Paul that I hadn’t seen her walk up.

  “Hi, y’all,” she said. Her Texas twang exaggerated for what I suspected was Paul’s sake. Arden thought her Texas accent was cute and cued it up whenever it suited her. “Look at you, Father Paul. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in street clothes.”

  “It happens occasionally.”

  “Of course it does. In fact, Felicia said she saw you at the gym a few weeks ago, wearing shorts and running on a treadmill.”

  Paul looked at her strangely, as if he couldn’t understand why two moms from the school would be discussing what he’d been wearing. I chuckled thinking about all the times that I’d listened to Arden talk about Paul’s clothes, shoes, hair, eyes, and so on. “I can’t exactly run in the collar,” he said.

  “Yes. It would be a little uncomfortable and hot, I’d imagine,” she said, nodding. “Kind of like today, huh?”

  “Something like that.”

  Arden’s eyes awkwardly remained on Paul for a moment before finally shifting to me. “How are you, Grace? I’m sorry I haven’t called.”

  I nodded. She’d called twice in five months. She’d been one of my closest friends, but when my life fell apart, so did our friendship.

  “How are you holding up?” she continued.

  “I’m doing okay,” I said, meeting her gaze and hanging on to it. “Every day is a new day. Right?”

  She arched her eyebrows at me. “Well, today looks like a pretty good day.”

  “It’s not been too bad.” As soon as I said the words, I wished I could suck them back. Her eyes got wide, and she nodded. By noon today, everyone from the preschool would know that Paul and I’d had coffee together this morning. School was out for the summer, but efforts would be coordinated to get the rumor mill up and running.

  “Well, I’ll be going then,” Arden said. “But we should get together soon. I saw Kate the other day, and we talked about getting together for dinner or a movie or something. Have her call me, and we’ll set it up.”

  “Yes. I’ll have my people call your people,” I said, trying to hide my reluctance at the idea. She laughed and turned toward the coffee shop door.

  I really couldn’t blame her for not calling me during the last five months when I didn’t want her to call either. As sad as it was, we didn’t have anything in common any more. The ties that once bound us together had been severed, and she was now just a reminder of everything I’d lost. Realizing that I was probably now what she was talking about rather than who she was talking to didn’t make me feel any better.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sure she’s already on her phone, telling someone she saw us here.”

  “I’m not worried about it.” He shrugged as if it was the last thing on his mind. “Hey, Kate says that you’re a runner,” he said, changing the subject.

  I nodded. “It’s been years since I ran competitively, but I’ve been thinking about doing a triathlon in the fall.”
r />   “That’s what she said. We ran together this morning. You should join us tomorrow.”

  My stomach twisted. “When did you do that?” It was only a little after nine o’clock now.

  “Six.”

  I snorted involuntarily. “Kate got up at 6:00? She must have really wanted to run with you.”

  “I take it that’s unusual?”

  “We don’t usually see the whites of her eyes before McDonalds stops serving from the breakfast menu.”

  It suddenly occurred to me that that might not be a fair assessment of her any more. She’d been dressed and ready to leave yesterday when I was still making breakfast. Maybe she was changing her ways. Or maybe she was just finally growing up.

  He chuckled. “Come to think of it, she didn’t talk for the first mile or so. But once she warmed up, she was fine. She was easy to run with, though. I get bored out there on my own sometimes. And your sister is very funny. I’ve never met anyone who speaks her mind quite like she does.”

  My stomach churned again. It wasn’t right, and it made no sense whatsoever but the thought of Kate spending time with him irked me. “Maybe I will join you tomorrow,” I said, surprising myself once again.

  We firmed up our plans for the next day’s run and talked about the triathlon as I finished my coffee. While I threw our trash away, Paul gave each of the dogs another drink. Chubs immediately perked up and lapped up the water greedily while Aurora looked uninterested, still sprawled out on the concrete.

  I urged her up, and we started back the way we’d come, taking our time this time. Aurora hung back, shuffling her paws at a snail’s pace.

  Not in any hurry, I continued our conversation from our walk over. “Okay, so favorite movie?” I asked. We’d covered TV shows and books earlier.

  “Too broad,” he answered. “What genre?”

  “Drama or Action,” I fired off.

  “The Usual Suspects,” he shot back immediately. “Counts as both, I think.”

  I busted out in laughter.