He sweeps my hair back. My lungs dispel all the air within me and I melt into his touch. Contact is okay? I need affection. I need adult warmth.
“Maguire.” I can’t see him.
“No one needs to know. It can be you and me until we know what to do with it—with us,” he begins.
Oh, he’s making an argument I don’t want to walk away from. But it doesn’t stop my thoughts because I’m convinced the world is against us.
Still with my head in the crook of his neck, I don’t dare move. I don’t dare look at him. “Can’t you just hold me?” I whisper—loud enough for only him to hear.
“Yes,” he answers. We stand like this for ten minutes. I don’t want to pull away. I can’t. And I assume for this very reason, Maguire is the one to pull away first.
I want her but only when she truly comes to me. I’m expecting her to leave right away. I’m surprised when she emerges from my house with two beers in her hand. Across from the gravel driveway, she settles into one of the Adirondack chairs, guzzling a bottle of beer. My eyes don’t leave the purple ends of her hair.
“Careful there, you’re not drinking water.”
I’ve always been enamored by women who love a good beer. It should have been my first red flag with Christine, but Holland is drinking it like it’s one of her diet sodas.
“One beer, I’ll be fine,” she chimes in.
Even for July, once the sun goes down, it gets a little chilly. Walking past her to grab a blanket from the couch, I’m back in a couple seconds.
“Here, I know how cold you get.” I sit down near her in the other Adirondack chair.
A giggle has me turning to her. “You seem to have been taking notes.”
Is she flirting with me? “I warned you earlier, darlin’, tread lightly.” It’s caution, but I’m also putting her on notice.
“You know, for so long, I thought you were the spitting image to Scott,” she casually says and I don’t know what to do with this information.
“What do you mean?” My eyes stay trained on her.
She moves in her chair, tucking her feet up under her rear. “I mean, y’all are similar. But for so long, I thought the desire that was churning inside me for you was simply because you were so much like Scott. And it made me feel more guilty, using you to fill this need.”
She takes a pull of her beer and I wait for more. Setting it down, she looks toward me.
“And now?” I question.
“Um, I realize there’s a difference in y’all. The similarities are so freaking eerie but the differences—there are plenty of those, too.”
I continue to watch her. “And what are the differences?” I ask, not sure I want to know.
“For one, you’re almost domineering—in an intimidating way. The way you demand. A take-charge kind of guy.”
“I think I need more than a beer for this conversation, darlin’.” My body stiffens, as does hers but I don’t move.
She takes a band she wears around her wrist, pulling the hair from her face. With the reflection of the moon on her pale skin, I’m drawn in further.
“Yeah, I guess it’s a little too much—I’m just seeing you as your own person and not an extension of Scott. I sometimes wondered if the complexity of emotions you stirred up within me was because you were like Scott. I realize that’s not true—you’re simply just you.”
Oh, how I’m not prepared for this. But more so, what the hell is going on here? I could take in a deep breath to give me time to react. I could stand up and walk away or kneel next to her, demanding to know where this conversation is going. Or, I could sit still and not say a word, which simply is not my style.
“Where are you going with this? With the revelation you’re hitting me with right now.”
She turns to me. “Surely you’ve thought this about Scott, right?”
“Um, well sure.” I take a long pull of my beer this time. “It’s been something I’ve wondered.”
She shrugs her shoulders, a small smile appearing on her lips. “I’m just saying… we may not be able to be together, but I see you as your own man.
I lean my head back because this is not where I saw this conversation going. “I’ll be sure to let my entire body know this on lonely nights,” I choke out. It was meant as a joke but Holland knows my tone. My prick-like pitch as she calls it.
“You can be a dick if you want, Sarge, but it’s the truth.” I let it go. Pushing her will get me nowhere.
“On to another subject altogether, darln’…I wanted to ask what you have planned for the weekend of August twenty-third.”
She drops her beer bottle. “Ah, shit.”
I must have really caught her off guard. Shit is not a word she says often. “Well, at least it was empty.” I lean down grabbing the bottle, still intact.
“Um, is this your sneaky way of asking me what I’m doing for the anniversary of Scott’s death without actually calling it this?” she asks, standing up and leaving me alone with my thoughts for a minute when she returns with more beers for both of us. “Sorry, now I need beer for this conversation.”
“Yeah, darlin’, it’s a tough subject to tackle . I don’t want any of us wallowing on that day. I’ve already chatted with Christine and her…”
“Ah, flip, flop, polly wop, tell me she’s not coming out here!” Her voice is louder than usual and it puts my own ears on alert.
“No, I’ve learned my lesson. I think you getting over this first will be hard enough without bringing in the mother-in-law from hell, too. You agree?” She nods her head and I continue. “But, I can’t have Christine by herself, either. I’m sending her on a cruise for the week, a way for her to move on.”
Placing her beer on the armrest of the chair, she reaches over and squeezes my arm. “You’re a good man, Maguire Parrish.” As quick as it’s on me, it’s gone. “So, what do you propose?” she asks with her eyes avoiding direct contact with mine.
“When Scott was here during the summers, I’d take him camping near Lake Tahoe. We’d live out of a tent for a week. It was the best time.” Before she can protest, I know her too well. Camping is not in Holland Parrish’s blood. “I know, I know, you and little darlin’ aren’t the camping-in-the-woods type. But the place we stayed had many different types of accommodations. We can rent a cabin or stay in the main resort. I want to be near him when the day rolls around. And I get it if you want to do something different, but having you and Scottie with me might be the reason I survive this first anniversary.”
From her side view, she closes her eyes. This is how I know Holland is most likely overthinking this. I’m given more confirmation when she turns her head, a tight smile on her face.
“Let me think about it, okay?”
“Yeah, give it some thought.” And I understand although the idea of her telling me yes right away would have been better on the ego. I know it’s not me, it’s the idea of how wrong us together would be. I won’t argue—but my heart won’t stop beating for her either.
Chapter 6
It never gets any easier dropping Scotland off at daycare. I want to be home with her during the day, but life has thrown me rotten lemons. Fiddlesticks, I can’t even make lemonade from these lemons. All I can do is power on and toss the metaphorical shitty lemons in the trash can each day as I pick up the pieces of what was once a very planned and manicured life.
She’s starting to have separation anxiety and each day, it gets harder and harder as she clings onto me with her strong little hands. Her chubby little face has large alligator tears that run down her sweet cheeks. I told Teagan this once and her response, “Alligators don’t have tear ducts so this statement really doesn’t make sense.” Good thing she’s my dear friend or I would have slugged her with the memory of my sweet baby crying still etched in my mind.
I’m on my way from the daycare to work when a phone call breaks my concentration about my baby and how long it takes for her to calm a
fter I leave her for the day. Picking it up, I recognize the number to my apartment complex.
“Hello,” I begin.
“Ms. Parrish, this is Lori from Edge Way Apartments. I hate to bug you this early, but there’s a problem with your rent check.”
I’m meticulous with every penny I spend, accounting for everything that comes out of my account. I have Scott’s life insurance in another bank, not linked to my regular checking. All I can envision is a day on the phone with the bank as I dispute overdraft fees and such.
“Oh, crap, did the check bounce?” But as I think back to just paying bills last week, I had enough money to cover all my payments and a little in reserve.
“I’m so sorry. No, actually, it’s the opposite.”
“What?” Is there something opposite from bouncing a check?
“Your rent has been paid in full for the entirety of your lease. I thought you knew. The name on the check we received last month was Parrish. It wasn’t you?”
It doesn’t take long for me to understand what’s happened. “Um, I’m sure it was my father-in-law.”
“Oh, dear, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have accepted just any check, with it having your last name, I just assumed.”
“No problem. Can you just refund him?” I ask, hoping for a simple solution.
“It doesn’t work that way since it’s already been deposited and credited to your account. I suggest you work a payment plan with him specifically.” They want their money. Why would they refund a sure thing when I’m paying monthly?
After I thank her for her call, I’m at work, parking on the opposite part of the building Maguire typically uses. Stomping into the warehouse, I have a bird’s-eye view of his office. It’s dark. He must not be in yet. Tossing my purse on the desk, I grab my work phone, calling his secretary.
“This is Irene.”
“Hey, it’s Holland. Do you know when Maguire will be in?” I ask, trying to sound upbeat. It’s not her fault I’m about to murder the man.
“Oh, honey, he has physical therapy today. Not sure he’ll be in. Depends on how sore his hand is afterward.” Then it hits me. I’m about to light into this man, who single-handedly saved my little girl.
“Um, okay. Just let him know I need to speak to him when he calls or comes in.”
“Oh, sure.” In her response, she probably thinks I could easily text him. But I don’t. I need to hone in on my anger which seems to be competing with my empathy—for this man—all at the same time.
Since returning from maternity leave, I’ve had more contact with potential customers. A resort in Hawaii has contracted our services for two hundred and fifty— thousand thread count sheet sets. I’ve been given the same commission compensation as the carpenters have. With a ten percent potential commission on this new order, my mind is on moving into my own house once my lease is up.
Out of the corner of my eye, I sense someone watching me. Stopping the machines immediately, I turn to Maguire. “Hey, I heard you were looking for me?” he mentions.
Diane is nowhere around when I step away from the industrial sewing machines. “Um, yeah—you heard right.” My hands are on my hips. “I got a phone call from my leasing agent this morning. Telling me there was an issue with my check.”
“Oh, yeah?” He’s staring at me. “So, what does this have to do with me?”
The smile on his face tells me he knows exactly what I’m talking about. “I think you know full well, Sarge, how this connects to you.” My tone is clear and even. I’ve not raised my voice yet at him, but I feel it’s coming.
“Listen, darlin’, you had planned to stay with me rent-free for a while. I’m just making sure you’re alright financially. Especially since it was an electrical fire, I feel doubly responsible.”
“And this is where you’ll tell me you went ahead and took the money from Scott’s account you have for him,” I challenge.
Shaking his head my way, he pulls out a chair and sits down, putting his hands over his head. “No, not at all. I paid for this on my own. The rest of his money is for you in case of an emergency or for Scottie.” He leans farther back, the pearly white of his teeth shining through his arrogant smile. “Living in an apartment, with no charm or personality is not what I want for you. This way you can save toward a house. I’m rebuilding the apartment. I’m making many changes and it will be on the ground floor this time, so you have a choice.”
“Maguire…” I begin.
“I know, I know. Living so close to me is too much of a temptation. But riddle me this. If the fire hadn’t begun, where would we be now?” He stands up and is out of his chair by the time I have a reply. “By the way…” His words have me turning to his new location. “I’ll never apologize for taking care of you. It’s not even about my promise anymore—though I’ll always keep my word to my son. But it’s turned into so much more.”
Walking to my machine, I now have to pour my frustration into my work. I don’t realize he’s still in the design space until his voice fills the air again. “Also, I’m going to Lake Tahoe that weekend we talked about.” No one wants to say the anniversary of Scott’s death out loud, but then again, why would we? “I still want you to come with me—you and Scottie, but I’m going regardless. I’ll book a cabin and if you decide you can’t go; I’ll cancel and just camp.”
He’s out the door before I’m able to stop him. My idea of lighting into him, giving him hell because he went behind my back has been foiled and I’m left only with gratitude for the man.
Wednesday rolls around and I’ve not seen my darlin’ since I left her meditating on my words and knowing Holland as I do, it’s all she’s been thinking about. I’m about to take some salmon out of the freezer for dinner when my text alert goes off.
Darlin’: Hey, if you keep an eye on Scottie, I can come out after work and get a little done on the truck.
Me: Yeah, sounds good.
I’m about to put my phone down when another text comes through.
Darlin’: You have to feed me first.
I chuckle at her words.
Me: Sure, bring your appetite and my grandbaby. See you soon.
I walk over to the wedding picture of Scott and her. I pick it up as if talking to the image of my son, holding it tightly would give me permission to pursue what both Holland and I want.
“Son, this couldn’t have been what you expected when you wrote me the letter. But if anyone knows how irresistible she is, you do. Lord, if I had a choice, I’d pick anyone else. I can’t help myself. I’ve tried, son, I really have.” I hold it against my heart wondering how he’d respond to it. “And your daughter—she’s amazing. Her little face is like looking at yours when you were four months old. I love them, son. I love them so much. I wish there were some way you could give me permission. Shit, I wish I knew what you were thinking.” I place the photo down, making my way to the kitchen to feed Holland as she has commanded.
I’m holding Scottie while Holland starts sanding the truck. She’s a quick learner. The girl goes for about twenty minutes before she stops. “Hell, at this point, we’ll be done in ten years,” she calls toward us.
She walks over to Scottie, extending her hands to her daughter when Scotland holds onto me tight. “Ah, you’re a traitor. I’ll never get rid of these thunder thighs or my stomach and you go to Gramps—over your mama.” I have to chuckle at her words. I don’t see a difference in her body, yet what comes out of her mouth is funny.
Sitting down next to me, she grabs my beer and takes a drink. I don’t stop her. “By the way, Sarge, we need to order the same yellow paint. I remember Scott telling me y’all had to go through a special vendor.”
Leaning down and giving Scottie a kiss on the head, I turn to Holland. “Listen, I was thinking about the color of the truck.”
“Yeah?” she asks, still with my beer in her hand.
“Why don’t you pick a new color. Everything you’ve done since Scott has di
ed, you’ve done for him. I need you to pick this for you, to pick what you like. A way to move on.”
She stands up so quickly I can’t finish my sentence. “If it’s my choice, I choose yellow. The same yellow.” She’s walking toward the house. “I’m getting another beer. Would you like one since I drank yours?”
“Sure!” I yell toward her. Turning to my granddaughter, I say, “That went well, little darlin’.”
She coos at me and it’s all I need to turn my own frown into a smile.
Setting Scottie in her stroller, I walk over to the fire pit, with new logs and kindling, starting a small blaze. By the time Holland returns with our beers, the “little blaze” is raging like a bonfire and I’m back to holding my granddaughter. “I leave for a couple minutes, and I come back to this. Y’all have been very busy.” Handing me my beer, she pulls her chair a couple feet from me, pulling the cap from the bottle. “Listen,” she begins, “I’ve been thinking about that weekend in Tahoe.”
I wait for the hammer, the big excuse as to why she can’t go. I brace myself, holding onto Scottie. I need to be around them, but more so, the idea of Holland sitting in her dreary apartment, crying for the life she has lost out on with Scott fills me with sadness.
“We’ll go, but I don’t want to stay in a cabin. Let’s stay in the resort, different rooms.” Her tone is the type I already know I can’t argue with. I’d like the ambiance of a cabin but us sharing a common space, would be too much of a temptation which is a big no for her.
“Okay, darlin’, whatever you say.” She pulls back her beer, almost draining it in one drink. “But I’ll tell you, you keep on drinking this way, you won’t be driving tonight,” I state, setting the law for her.
“Sure thing, Sarge.” She grabs another beer and it’s then I know I’ll have to set up the Pack ‘n Play for Scottie because these two are staying here tonight.
Different as Night and Day Page 5