“Right,” I said slowly.
“Listen,” she said, sitting up straighter. “I didn’t mean to force the issue. And my mom … well, you’ll just have to ignore her. She’s not subtle and she doesn’t pick up on cues. She thinks she can force the world to be whatever she wants it to be. But you were clear that you’re not looking for anything, and honestly, that’s totally fine.” She took a swig of her beer and then set it down, fixing me with a serious look. “I’m not looking for anything either,” she said. “It’s a bad time, honestly, because I’m about to move away.”
Everything inside me stilled, all the frenzied motion and swirling activity of desire stopped, frozen by her words. “You’re leaving Singletree? When?”
She made a face, lifting one side of her mouth and crinkling her nose. “Not sure exactly. Soon, I think.” She wasn’t looking at me, but glanced up quickly as if to see how I’d take that news.
I wasn’t taking it especially well, if you wanted the truth. But to let Paige Tanner see that kissing her five minutes before had pretty much spun my world around and made me rethink everything I’d been telling myself about the romantic part of my life being over, about how I was just a dad now, and how I just needed to be there for my girls … well, that wouldn’t have been prudent.
And my life? Was about being prudent. Doing the right thing. Putting the girls first.
“Well then I guess it’s good that I’m not really in a place to get into anything,” I said, feeling the lie thicken like sludge in my throat.
“Sure,” she said, lifting her beer bottle and then taking a long pull. She glanced behind her, out the patio doors to the yard. “The rain seems to be lightening up.”
“Yep.”
“Well,” she said, standing. “Thanks for the ride. And the beer.”
“Any time,” I said, feeling a familiar hollowness carve out my chest as I watched her call Bobo and head for the front door. And then we said goodbye and she left. I watched her walk across the street, feeling my world contract down around me again until it was close and small and familiar. And empty.
The Universe Sucks Sometimes
Cormac
When Callan and April had volunteered to keep the girls and the dog for the night, I’d accepted their offer eagerly, imagining myself working into the wee hours, getting more done than was ever possible when I was catering to the whims of the girls. Even after they’d gone to bed they managed to find ways to keep me from being productive, popping up every seven minutes with needs. A glass of water? One more hug? Monster repellant?
I loved them, I did.
But it was endless, and sometimes I had the impression that as a parent—as a single parent especially—I was just some modern-day Sisyphus, doomed to push the rock up the hill over and over again in the form of endless kid-related chores. Sometimes I wondered if I’d lost myself so completely down the well of daddyhood that I might never recover even a small part of who I actually was outside that role.
But then I’d met Paige Tanner.
And if you want the truth? I really wished I hadn’t.
She’d left my house, jogging through the lingering rain, and slipped through the front door of her own house across the street. And she’d taken with her the first glimmers I’d seen in years of the man I used to be.
In a single night, or more truthfully, maybe over the course of a couple weeks since I’d starting seeing her everywhere, Paige had reminded me who I actually was and then made it clear I would probably never be that man again.
Now I found myself staring morosely into a glass of whiskey as I sat in the leather armchair in the corner of the living room. I was alone.
In every sense of the word.
Even when the girls were here, I felt so goddamn alone.
I was supposed to say it was all worth it, that to see them grow, to help them become full-fledged people would make every sacrifice in my life feel like a gift. But that right there was bullshit.
My life had turned out to be absolutely nothing like I planned. Linda was dead—in what universe did that make any sense at all? I was raising two girls on my own, I had shitty allergies to the only thing that had made them happy in as long as I could remember, and the only thing that had made me happy in as long as I could remember?
Was moving away.
Soon, probably.
Even the thought of the house across the street sitting empty—or holding some other people who were not Paige Tanner … well, I hated it.
Two glasses in, I made a solid resolution, witnessed by the thick silence in my quiet house and my not-quiet mind. I resolved to practice acceptance. My life was what it was. And I could mope around, feeling sorry for myself, or I could just accept it. This lonely solitude was the hand I’d been dealt, and I would play it without complaint.
I poured a third glass of whiskey, hoping the liquor from the storied local HalfCat Distillery would quiet the goofy laugh that kept echoing through my head and extinguish the light that kept flashing inside my head, illuminating a set of soft blue grey eyes.
Neighbor Kissing and Cakes
Paige
I didn’t know what to do. I got home and turned to Bobo, who grinned up at me.
“What do I do now?” I asked him.
Bobo stared at me a moment longer and then trotted over to his bed in the corner, made a circle and flopped down. He didn’t seem to want to chat, but I needed to talk to someone.
I couldn’t call my mom.
Leslie would love to dissect every detail of the kiss I’d just experienced, but I wasn’t sure her advice would be anything I could use. She had a habit of saying things like “go big or go home,” and “sleep when you die.” I knew she would encourage me to storm back across the street and tell Cormac to take his pants off. And while that might have been Leslie’s style, it wasn’t mine.
I decided maybe my sister Amber might be helpful. She was younger than me, but sometimes her insight surprised me. Our older sister Addison would have been ideal—but she’d been away from Singletree so long it felt a bit like I’d have to explain the place to her before I could get into any of the crazy things that happened here.
I poured a glass of wine and nestled into the corner of my couch. Bobo got up and came to curl up again at my feet. After a few sips, I picked up my phone and called.
“Hey, Paige,” she said when she picked up. “Everything okay?”
“What, I can’t call you just to chat?”
She paused. “I mean … you can, but you never do.” That was true. And it made me feel worse.
“There’s always a first time.”
“Uh, sure. Okay.”
“Is this an okay time to talk?” I asked. “You’re not in the midst of hot sex or anything, right?”
She blew out a breath as if this idea was ridiculous. Maybe it was just embarrassing for me to mention it. “No. Definitely not.”
Her tone made me wonder if there was a problem there. But I hadn’t called to talk about her sex life with Wiley. I needed to focus on me. “So,” I started.
“So,” she repeated.
“There’s this guy who lives across the street from me,” I began.
“Ohhh,” she said, her tone turning friendlier. “Okay, it’s that kind of talk. Okay, yeah, go on.” Now she sounded kind of excited and I wondered if calling Amberlynn had been a mistake. I didn’t need to share, I needed advice.
“So anyway, he’s a single dad. And he’s kind of hot.”
“Go on,” she said.
I spent a few minutes recounting the multiple times I’d bumped into him over the past couple weeks, and finished up with our evening at Mom’s cafe and the kiss.
“That all sounds good, Paige. It’s like the universe keeps forcing you guys together or something.”
“Maybe,” I said slowly. “But after the kiss, things were kind of weird.”
“Tell me exactly what he said.”
“I think maybe it got weird because of what
I said, though,” I told her.
“Which was?”
I took a big swig of wine and swallowed. “I got kind of freaked out, actually. He has all this responsibility—these little girls who depend on him. And his house is full of photos of his late wife, right?”
“That sounds normal. Maybe kind of sad. What did you say, Paige?”
“Well, he’d made a point at Mom’s place to say that he wasn’t looking for anything, that he wasn’t in a place to have a relationship or anything, but then I went and kissed him. So I felt like I needed to reassure him or something.”
“And?”
“So I told him it was okay, that I wasn’t really in a place to start anything either because I was about to move away.”
“So you took the job?”
“Well, no, but I might. And I just said it, like I wanted him to know I wasn’t tying all my hopes and dreams to him or anything.”
“I’m sure he didn’t think that after one kiss.”
“Maybe not. After that it was super awkward, but he told me again that he’s definitely not looking for anything.” Even repeating his words made my heart fall again.
“What did you want him to say? ‘Please, Paige, don’t go. I barely know you but that one kiss has made me realize we should spend our lives together?’” Amber used a deep voice for this last part that was as ridiculous as the words she was saying.
“Well, no …”
“So what then?”
“I guess I’ve just never had a kiss like that, that’s all. And it felt … like it meant something. Is that stupid?” I felt heat rush to my cheeks. The kiss had been like none I’d ever had. It had sent me spinning, turned my nerves inside out, and made me wonder what actually being with Cormac would be like.
“That good, huh?”
“God …” I couldn’t form words as I remembered the way his kiss had felt.
“When do you have to let them know about the job?”
“I have until the end of April,” I told her. “Three more weeks. But they’d like to know sooner.”
“So you’ll be here for the festival?” Amber asked.
“I’d planned to maybe go before.”
“No! Change of plans. You can’t leave before that!”
I thought about it. They had said they were flexible. “I could maybe stay for it and go right after.”
“Yes,” she said, as if it was all certain. “And you can help out.”
What did this have to do with kissing Cormac? I might as well. It wasn’t like I had much else to do. “What do you need?”
“The usual. Decorations, setting up chairs, helping Mom bake three thousand cakes.”
“Is that all?” It was a sarcastic question. The festival was always exhausting for Mom, and for us by association.
“Maybe donate something for the auction?”
“Yeah, I can do that.” I usually donated an adoption package for the shelter—dog food, toys, a bed and covered the cost of the adoption fee and vaccinations.
“Okay, well, we’re baking tomorrow at the cafe. See if you can get ten rounds of vanilla done and bring them to stick in the freezer.”
“Ten cakes? Tomorrow?”
“Over the next week or so,” she said.
I guessed I knew what I’d be up to for the next few nights. “Okay.”
“And Paige?” Amber said as we were winding down.
“Yeah?”
“You should probably just decide.”
“Decide what?”
“If you would rather kiss your neighbor or move away for your new fancy job. But sooner rather than later. It’ll be hard for everyone if you go. Better to know now then to have to wait for you to tell us later.” She sounded angry and upset, and I realized I hadn’t really considered how me moving away would affect my sister. A little trickle of surprise worked its way through me. “And you know it’ll kill Mom, so if it’s happening, tell her soon. Gently.”
“Right. Okay. Thanks.”
We hung up and her words replayed in my mind. I knew I’d rather kiss my neighbor than move away, but that wasn’t really the choice before me, was it? It was something more like, stay here and keep doing exactly what I’d been doing for the last thirty years, or take a leap and see if life might hold something more.
I knew I had to take a leap. I just didn’t know why the thought made me so sad.
Hoping to Screw Things Up
Cormac
I contemplated not going to my allergy shot appointment the following day. With the girls and the dog out of the house, and no one to kick up dander and fur, I felt close to normal. And I knew seeing Paige might be awkward.
But in the end I couldn’t fight my own nature and I went. I was a guy who kept appointments. I was a guy who handled his responsibilities. I was a guy who did what was expected of him. Steady and simple, that was me.
“You’re such a dipshit,” Callan told me when I spoke to him on the phone as I headed to the appointment.
“Thanks.” I was used to my brother’s colorful way of expressing himself, so this remark on the heels of me telling him what had happened during my one night off wasn’t totally unexpected.
“You had the whole house to yourself, a gorgeous woman in your arms, and—“
“A weird dog in the corner growling at me, don’t forget that.”
“Whatever, I don’t care about that. I just can’t believe you didn’t seal the deal. Be honest Mac, how long’s it been? Years, probably, right?”
“It, I’m guessing, is sex?”
“No, sorry, I should have been clear. I meant how long has it been since you’ve danced the polka. Yes, sex! How long?”
“Since Linda,” I said, certain that even though my brother was an athlete meathead he could have figured that out on his own.
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but it’s not every day gorgeous women wander into your house and tell you they’re willing to break your dry spell.”
Even the thought sent my blood spiking. “She didn’t say anything like that.”
“And yet you ended up with your tongue in her mouth. Right.” Callan barked a laugh.
“Whatever. I shouldn’t have told you.” Maybe I should be paying a therapist instead of trying to have deep conversations with my brother. At least they wouldn’t laugh at me. “The girls did okay?”
“Getting them that dog was the best thing you’ve ever done, bro. They love that fleabag. They did great.”
“Thanks for having them over. I’ll come pick up Luke on my way home from picking up the girls, okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine. April’s busy spoiling him.”
“Oh good.”
“So go see your doctor and figure out how to get her in your house again so you can not screw it up this time.” He chuckled and then added, “Or, so you can screw it up, if you get my drift.”
“Um.” I shook my head as I pulled into the parking lot at Paige’s office, choosing to ignore that last part. “She was pretty clear she was leaving town soon.”
“It’s only gonna take an hour, Mac. Hell, after years without practice, maybe five minutes.”
I sighed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Make no mistake, I’m voting for the hour.”
“Yeah, thanks. Appreciate you keeping the girls. See you later.” I hung up before my younger brother could offer any more sage advice about women. The guy wasn’t exactly an expert, but he’d gotten lucky the year before when April had come into town to film his house for some show about home decorating. He’d been his usual grumpy self, and for some reason she’d stuck around and they’d gotten engaged.
The girls loved April, and really, so did I. But sometimes it was hard watching my brother with her. I’d had that once, that casual happiness, that ability to be living the very best life you’re capable of without even realizing how fragile it all is.
As I got out of the car, I told myself that if I ever stumbled into that kind of luck agai
n, I’d pay more attention to it, I’d hold it close and appreciate every single second.
I signed in and sat down to wait, but just a few minutes after settling in with a copy of Seniors Today, the back door swung open and my name was called.
I followed a woman with a clipboard to the exam room and waited as she typed a few things into the computer at the side of the room. She squinted at me, her face comical beneath a wedge of pink hair. The woman continued staring at me for a while—longer than seemed polite—and I began to get uncomfortable under her scrutiny.
Finally, she said, “So you are Cormac Whitewood.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “Hopefully that’s what the chart there says. I’d hate to be mistaken for a patient who’d come in for a lobotomy or something.” You read about that sort of thing. Medical mistakes, they were called. But I doubted Paige’s office was doing a lot of complex surgery on a random Tuesday afternoon.
The woman didn’t respond, but came closer and began running through my vitals, pushing and prodding me as she listened to my chest, took my temperature and peered into my eyes. She pulled the blood pressure cuff from the wall and seemed to think about something instead of clasping it around my arm.
“I’m gonna need you to remove your shirt for this,” she said, a half smile on her face.
“Oh, okay.” I was surprised. Normally they just cuffed around the top of my sleeve. “You sure? Last time they just—”
“Let me see,” she said stepping closer. Her hands did a thorough examination of my upper arm, squeezing my bicep and tracing through the cloth up to my shoulder and around, like she was searching for something. She was nodding as she squeezed and prodded, and I had the distinct impression she was feeling my muscles and not searching for the right spot to take my blood pressure. “Eh,” she said dismissively. “I guess we can do it like this.” A light rap came on the door and it swung open just as the woman said, “It’d be better if you just took off your shirt though. Maybe your pants too.”
Second Chance Spring Page 7