by Jewel Ann
But … she does what she’s always done best. Shocks the hell out of me.
Her eyes flutter open, lips curl into a perfect smile, and she cups the back of my head like I’ve done to her so many times. Then she pulls me back down to her for a slow kiss.
Our kiss ends when something on the floor makes a vibrating sound. It’s one of our phones.
“Eventually,” she whispers, brushing the pad of her thumb along my eyebrow.
I squint.
Her lips form a faint smile. “Eventually I’ll be okay. And so will you.”
A goodbye.
This is goodbye. A redo because the one in my office was horrible. But nonetheless, it’s goodbye. I don’t know if saying goodbye to Dorothy Mayhem can ever be anything but horrible.
I nod because all words remain congested in my throat.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The Man in the Yellow Hat
Sex isn’t closure. It’s not a goodbye. And it doesn’t satisfy the heart. It’s a false moment of hope where the body gets its way while the mind turns a blind eye to reality.
My reality?
I have a family.
Tonight I’m dressed as The Man in the Yellow Hat. Julie is a banana, and Roman is Curious George. Roman wanted us to be superheroes, but Julie fell in love with the monkey theme. I really think she was just pissed off that Roman insisted we be superheroes “like Dorfee.”
Julie gives Roman a real banana as a snack before we head out and fill his belly with candy. I snap a quick picture of our little monkey eating the banana and send it to Dorothy because I know she’ll love it.
Me: Not a superhero, but still pretty dang cute!
It’s the first contact I’ve made with her since the on-call room weeks ago, other than the occasional quick passing glance at the hospital. I’m not even sure why it’s such a knee-jerk reaction to take the photo and send it to her. But … it is.
“Your family is on their way over here. Who are you sending that to?” Julie rolls her eyes, peeking around me to see my phone.
“Jesus, Elijah …” she whispers before I can get out of my message screen that has Dorothy’s name at the top.
I turn toward her, but she’s already halfway up the stairs.
“Hello? Where’s George?” Mom calls, opening the front door.
My parents and sisters make their way into the living room, snapping lots of their own pictures of Roman and then of me.
“These are the best costumes!” My mom beams. “Where’s Julie?”
“Bedroom.” I gesture toward the stairs. “I’ll go see if she’s ready.”
I take slow steps down the hallway to my bedroom. Our bedroom? Fuck, I have no idea. I close the door and slither my guilty ass to the doorway of the bathroom.
Julie glances up in the mirror, eyes wet, lips trapped between her teeth.
“I’m sorry.” How unoriginal. Even with sincerity in my voice, the words sound empty.
“What are we doing, Eli?” Our gazes meet in the mirror. “Because I’m here, going through the motions, trying to put our family back together. And I thought that’s what you wanted too.”
“It is.” I drop my chin, feeling too much guilt to even look at her any longer.
“What did I misread? Misunderstand? Because I thought you and Dorothy were over? I’ve been making meals and doing the laundry. We sleep in the same bed, but you never touch me. And I thought it was because of your injuries and maybe Dorothy too … I thought maybe you just needed time to let go. But messaging her pictures of Roman is not letting go.”
I force my gaze back to her. And she doesn’t look mad, she looks hurt.
She stares at her feet. “I get it. I ruined us. I’ve never expected anything from you. I bore the burden. But you begged me to give us another try. So I thought this was what you wanted. And since I’ve been taking my meds and doing the counseling, I’ve realized it’s what I want too. But I can’t do this if you’re not all in. If you need more time, I’ll give it to you. Just ask me. If you don’t want this anymore, then just tell me. But please, I beg you … don’t hold me at arm’s length, making me look like a fool because you can’t decide what it is you want.”
I take off my yellow hat and run my hand through my hair on a deep sigh.
What I want.
I want the impossible.
“Daddy! Let’s go!” Roman tears through the bedroom, ramming into my leg, thankfully my good leg.
Julie turns her head and blots her face.
“Okay, George. Let’s go.” I step out of the doorway.
Roman takes my hand and tugs on it as I try to lead him out of the bedroom. “Come on, Mommy.” He holds out his other hand to her, and she takes it.
As the three of us stand here holding hands, Julie and I look up at each other.
“I want this,” I whisper to her.
She gives me a quivering smile and nods. “Me too.”
* * *
We take our little boy trick or treating. I watch him giggle, and it makes me smile.
A real smile.
Julie plays chase with him between houses, as if our little monkey is going to gobble her up, and it makes me smile.
A real smile.
When we arrive home, we give him a bath, and more smiles and giggles ensue. And I think … maybe I can do this. Maybe I can find my way back to this life. Maybe Dorothy is right.
“He’s asleep.” Julie sighs with a fantastic smile on her face as she shuffles into the bedroom, tossing her banana costume on the floor, leaving her in a black tee and yellow leggings.
I rub a towel through my wet hair, freshly showered. Julie’s gaze slides along my bare chest to my jogging shorts. I hate that there’s a part of me that feels like she has no right to look at me this way.
In or out, Eli. Make a decision.
For Dorothy, the day in the on-call room might have felt like the true severing of ties. But for me, it’s this moment. It’s this decision to take back my life, to give my little boy everything.
Julie takes away the space between us one slow step at a time. I’ve waited for so long to see this look in her eyes again, to feel wanted, to feel the undeniable pull that brought us together twenty-two years ago.
But still … I think of Dorothy. Maybe I’ll always think of Dorothy. She will just have to be a scar, a permanent mark on my heart because I let her inside of me. And letting her go has been brutal and not without damage.
Julie rests her hands on my bare chest and presses her lips to my sternum. I close my eyes and slide my hand into her long, red hair. It’s not as soft as Dorothy’s hair. But the shiver it elicits in Julie is familiar. So that’s what I cling to—the familiar.
She feathers kisses up to my neck. My grip on her hair tightens like the suffocating pressure in my chest. Her lips pause at the angle of my jaw, and she waits for me to look at her.
I do.
But just as quickly, I close my eyes and kiss her so she doesn’t see the pain and regret in my eyes. I have to believe someday it won’t be there.
Someday I will be okay.
Julie doesn’t smell like coconuts. But that’s fine.
Fine …
She smells like roses. I used to love the smell of roses.
I drop the towel in my other hand and grip her hip, inching my hand up to her breast. It’s not familiar. It’s larger than it was when I last touched her like this. And much larger than Dorothy’s breasts, which I miss.
Julie’s fingers trace my erection along the outside of my shorts. I’m clearly turned on, and that’s good for us. I just really don’t know if it’s Julie or memories of Dorothy.
It doesn’t matter.
This is my life now. I will embrace it.
I will love it.
Blocking all other comparisons from ruining this moment, I walk us to the bed. We don’t rush anything, like there’s a need to get reacquainted, a need to let our bodies find their old rhythm. Our arms and legs tangle togethe
r on the bed as we continue this slow kiss. I remove her shirt and bra.
Julie sucks in a deep breath and holds it, eyes filled with apprehension and regret as I stare at her new body. She doesn’t say it, but I know she’s feeling a certain amount of shame for not loving herself the way I always loved her. For thinking something about her was less than perfect. But perfection changes and so does how we view ourselves. And that’s … okay.
Just as I get ready to say something comforting, we turn our heads toward the door and the sleepy-eyed boy with vomit down the front of his jammies.
“Oh, buddy!” I climb off the bed as Julie quickly covers her chest.
“My tummy …”
“Yeah, let’s get you cleaned up,” I say.
He cries a little then heaves, but I don’t get out of his way quick enough to keep the vomit from landing on me. Without giving a second thought to what was about to happen before Roman got sick, we clean up the mess and tuck him into bed between us with a big bowl for any more messes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Oops …
Dorothy
“What are you doing?”
“Jesus!” I jump at the sound of Dr. Warren’s voice. “Don’t scare me like that.”
He tosses his lunch wrappers in the garbage. “I ate my lunch, watching you pace a six-foot strip for the past fifteen minutes. What’s up?”
“Nothing is up.” I force myself to stand still, shoving my hands into the pockets of my scrub top.
Fifteen minutes. Fuck … my break is up.
No. This is a good thing. I need to work. Work is good. I should think about work.
“Haven’t seen you lurking around the lab as much. Does this have anything to do with the reconciled Hawkins-Hathaway duo?” Warren tips his chin up, eyeing me with suspicion.
“Oh. So the rumors are true? They’re back together?”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah …” he says slowly.
“Good. That’s great. Just as it should be.”
Then the breakup and subsequent thirty-two journals used to sort out my thoughts weren’t all for nothing. It’s a silver lining. Silver linings are good.
Roman has his parents back together. That is all that matters to me.
Sort of …
“How many cups of coffee have you had today, Mayhem?”
“One. Why?” I stop myself from pacing again. When did I even start pacing again?
He chuckles, pressing the button to the elevator. “No reason.”
“He’s happy. Right?”
Dr. Warren pauses, holding open the elevator doors. “Sure. I mean. They’ve all had gastrointestinal issues or food poisoning, vomiting-diarrhea shit stuff going on over the past three weeks. But I think everyone has recovered.”
“That’s good. Just in time for the holidays!”
He laughs again before stepping onto the elevator. “Sure.”
“Wait!”
The doors close before I can stop them. I need to get back to work. My shaky finger pushes the button.
“Hi.”
I look over my shoulder. “Hi.” I practically choke on that one word as Dr. Hathaway gives me a polite smile.
The elevator doors open again, and I rush onto it, which is stupid since she’s getting on as well. It’s not like I can really run from her.
She presses the button to the sixth floor. Fantastic. That’s where I’m going as well.
“How have you been?” she asks, and it feels real and kind. Not like she found out I had sex with Eli in the on-call room five weeks ago.
Not that I’m counting.
“Fine. I heard you’ve all been sick. Sorry. Hope it’s all good now.”
“Yeah.” She shakes her head with a bit of relief. “That wasn’t a lot of fun.”
“I’m sure not.” I reach into my pocket as my phone vibrates. When I pull it out, the other things in my pocket come out as well, dropping to the floor. “Crap.” I bend down at the same time Julie does.
My hand goes for the wad of tissue (because I don’t want her to touch my dirty tissues). She grabs a folded up ten-dollar bill and the one thing I really should have snatched up before her—but I didn’t.
We stand at the same time, both of our gazes affixed to the pregnancy test in her hand. My pregnancy test. The one I took in the cafeteria bathroom twenty-five minutes ago.
The doors open and she slips the test into the pocket of her lab coat. Like … what the fuck? That’s my test!
“A word, Dorothy.” She steps off the elevator, shoulders back, chin up like the boss bitch she is, making a straight line to her office with my pregnancy test.
What is it with the Hawkins-Hathaway duo and their constant need to have a word with me?
I was never sent to the principal’s office in school. So this is new for me. And it sucks because I’m not prepared for this. If she can give me a day, I’ll be ready. Something tells me she’s not likely going to grant my request.
“Close the door please.”
I close the door.
She stands behind her desk, as any authoritative boss bitch would do, and pulls the test out of the pocket of her lab coat. After wordlessly staring at it for an eternity, she lifts her gaze to mine. “Please tell me you have a boyfriend.”
I shake my head.
Her brow wrinkles as she returns her attention to the pregnancy test.
“When is the last time you spoke with Elijah?”
“Um … on Halloween he sent me a photo of Roman, but I didn’t respond. But not because I didn’t think it was a cute picture. Roman is the most adorable little boy I’ve ever seen.”
Dr. Hathaway grunts a laugh and nods several times. “And when is the last time you had sex with Elijah?”
It’s not her business. I mean … I don’t think it’s her business. I honestly don’t know whose business is whose right now.
“Five weeks ago,” I say because I can’t lie to her.
Her head resumes its slow nod. She would have been a good principal or maybe even a prosecutor.
“What are your plans?” She pins me with a neutral look that makes me squirm.
“I peed on that stick less than thirty minutes ago. I don’t have a plan yet.”
“Are you planning on keeping it? Are you planning on telling him?”
“I …” I shake my head. “Of course I’m keeping it.”
She cringes. “I didn’t mean to imply that you shouldn’t. I simply respect a woman’s right to choose.”
If only she respected my right to my pregnancy test.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Her head cants to the side.
Damn she’s good. Solid. Unyielding. Formidable in her own way.
“Did you rape Elijah?”
“What?” My head jerks backward. “No!”
“Then why would you apologize for having consensual sex with him?”
“Because I gave him back to you so Roman can have a home with two parents who get to see him every day because that’s the dream. And Roman is too young to live anything short of a dream if it’s even a remote possibility.”
I sigh, hoping my heart will settle down, hoping she’ll let me leave so I can deal with this in some way that doesn’t involve her giving me the third degree, demanding I make life-changing decisions right this second.
“You’re right. Roman does deserve that. And I love Eli. And there’s nothing I want more than this second chance with him.”
I work my teeth into my bottom lip so hard I can taste blood. “I’m not taking him away from you, but I have to tell him. You know this, right? And we’ll figure something out. But I’m not ready to tell him yet. If you want me to let you know when I’m ready to tell him, I can do that.”
She turns her back on me and drops her head, cupping a hand on the back of her neck. “You can go now.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
* * *
Elijah
“I need to go.”
I unfold from the chair as my mom stands and makes her usual Friday trip around her desk to give me a hug and kiss.
“Thanks for lunch. We’ll pick Roman up around five. I’m proud of you for giving Julie another chance. You are a kind man and an incredible father. So just enjoy your weekend alone with Julie. You both need this, especially after a solid three weeks of someone being sick in your house. Everyone will be well-rested and in a good mood for Thanksgiving next week.”
I nod. “Yeah. Okay, then I’ll see you later.”
I head back to work. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the universe is conspiring to keep me from having sex with Julie. And while I still can’t get Dorothy out of my mind, I need to make an effort to move forward and show Julie my intentions are real.
So now that everyone is finally well, I’m sending Roman to spend the weekend with my parents while I work on my relationship with Julie—while I reconnect with her.
God … I hope it falls into place. I hope all the old feelings come rushing back because I can’t live a life with her if every damn day my heart beats for another woman.
I get home a few minutes before five, a little surprised that my mom and dad aren’t here yet. “Hey.” I smile at Julie when I walk into the kitchen.
“Hey.” She returns my smile, but it’s not quite as big as mine.
“Rough day?” I ask, looking over my shoulder as I wash my hands.
She sips a glass of red wine and shrugs. “You could say that.”
My gaze makes a quick sweep of her body covered by the same clothes she wore to work—fitted black pants and a soft pink blouse showing a bit of cleavage. Her hair is down. And her lips are covered in red.
“You look like a million bucks.” I mean it, and I feel a sense of accomplishment for saying it without tripping over any guilt.
“Thank you.” Julie stares at her wine glass, swirling it a bit while I pour myself a glass of it. “I love you, Elijah.” She keeps her chin tipped to her chest.
“I know.” I lean against the counter next to her, brushing a strand of hair away from her eye, coaxing her to look at me again. Over the past few weeks, while muddling through a mess of sickness, I felt every breath of her love. The way she cared for me and Roman when she wasn’t feeling well herself. I witnessed the woman I fell in love with so many years ago.