“One minute.” Yuki shouts.
“Take this down.” Jaxon sits, pulling the chair closer than before. He lifts the pen and thrusts it in my direction. I take it transfixed by this entire situation. He opens my pamphlet, using his large hand to hold it open. “202…”
He rattles off his cellphone number and like that he walks away.
“Damn.” My eyes glued to his back as he strolls out the room. I want him to look back, to see his piecing eyes again. That man has enough swagger for ten men. “Alright Jaxon, I see you.”
Hours later I fall back on my couch exhausted and aroused by Jaxon Reinheart. He managed to turn our night of dating into the Jaxon Show. He popped in after every couple of men. By the time the evening came to the close I was eagerly waiting for his next pop up.
Yuki and Jazz were mix between intrigued and smitten as they let him have his way. I shake my head. We talked for four minutes here and four minutes there. I close my eyes trying to piece together our conversations.
He is thirty six, not as young as my son but close enough to make me earmark that one. He works in renewable energy and is in Austin for the summer as a consultant with the University of Texas overseeing a consortium.
I kick off my heels rubbing my tired feet. It’s close to eight and I hear the ring of my phone. I stretch reaching for my purse strap and drag out my cellphone.
“Hey Mae!” I’m tired and plan to cut this call short.
“Hey yourself Miss thang! How’d the night go?”
“I am not talking to you, or Yuki, or Jazz.” I rattle off the list knowing its a lie. But someone must pay for the torture I endured.
“Your girls are just trying to get you back on the bike.”
“The bike?” I open my eyes and my stomach growls. I couldn’t eat and talk and now I’m starving.
“Yeah, they want to get you back in the groove of dating. Back on the bike.” She said it like that made any sense, I shook my head. “How’d it go? Because I might be their next test subject.”
“Girl you can have it. I had twenty dates in less than two hours.” And Jaxon’s face fluttered in my head like a hologram. “Actually twenty one.”
“Tell me about number twenty one. You sound all Hollywood and stuff.”
“Hush.” We laugh. I’m not ready to talk about Jaxon. I’m still trying to figure him out.
“Earth to Rhonda.”
“Sorry.” I rub my tired eyes. “What did you say?”
“Tell me about him.”
“Nothing to tell.” I know a few facts about him. But my body’s response to him is unlike any I’ve ever had. Not even my deceased husband illicit the raw feelings of desire I felt in the thirty minutes of talking to him.
“I’ve know you longer than most. So, when you get out of your head, call me, day or night. Because according to the girls—”
“What did they say?!” I sit up and my hearts racing just thinking about him.
“I won’t tell because you won’t tell.”
“Y’all are trifling.” Her wicked laugh is exaggerated and hilarious. “What I can tell you is I am rusty.” I guess her bike analogy is accurate. I think I need training wheels or a coach. That’s laughable.
“When was the last time you went on a real date?”
“Not counting tonight? Over twenty years.” I hear the words and they sound pitiful. But it’s the truth. “I mean…” I prop my feet on the coffee table and get comfortable. “I’ve attended bouquets and fundraisers with men. But it was more about the event. And I wasn’t ready for a relationship. So, it worked. Besides, you know as well as I do that men our age want women like my girls. So, I stick to myself.”
I spent my youth raising kids as a single parent. Football games, gymnastics, cheerleading, and such. My kids came first.
“I dare not ask about the last time you’ve—”
“Don’t.” I roll my eyes. I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night. Gushing and blushing over Jaxon.
“On to other business, I want you to be the first to know that I’m closing Juanita’s Casa.” The banter and humor of the moment is sucked desert dry. And for the second time tonight my head is spinning and not from desire but despair.
“You can’t.”
“I must.” I hear a sniffle. “I don’t want to but I have to. The budget cuts of this new administration is killing nonprofit organizations. And now my casa is under its rusty axe.”
Juanita’s Casa is a women and children’s shelter on paper. But in actuality it is so much more. Mae feeds, clothes, and loves on people when the world seems dark and unkind. She has thirty units and it is where I spend my days and many nights.
“What can I do?”
“You’ve done more than I’ve every expected from another human being. More than my family or the government.” I hear her soft cries and my heart aches for her. “I just need a friend. You’ve floated us for long enough. I just can’t seem to get out of this hole.”
“You got me whether you want me or not. As for helping, it’s the least I could do.”
Mae helped me as I raised my kids. Yes, in life I am a widow with two children, but Mae West managed to fill in when I needed it most. I need to call my kids, there’s got to be a way to save Juanita’s Casa.
Thoughts of sleep are long gone. I am glued to the couch after talking with Mae. She needs at least a million dollars. I have a little nest egg and a rainy day fund after my husband’s death. I managed it well enough to remain a s stay-at-home mother to my kids and with them grown, I now work full time, as a volunteer, at Juanita’s Casa. But neither are enough to help her.
The phone rings.
“Hello.” My brain is mush, clouded by the thought of Mae not being able to help another woman in need.
“Hello gorgeous.”
I take a sharp inhale. Jaxon. I glance at the clock. “It’s awful late for a call.”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His confession causes a haze to cloud my vision.
“Are you always so blunt?” I nestle into the corner of my couch, pulling my feet beneath me. I tap the speaker icon on my phone.
“I wouldn’t call it blunt, merely truth. I see no reason to waste time. You only live once. Besides, I let you slip through my fingers long enough.” His voice is the only sound filling my quiet house.
This is the part of my life that seems to never get old. Living in a house that once was filled with laughter and energy. I intentionally spend my days at Juanita’s Casa to keep the loneliness at bay. But that could all change when she closes.
“I’m a great listener.”
What’s the worse that could happen? “I just receive some bad news.” I let out a deep breath. “The place where I volunteer may have to close its doors due to budget cuts.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. How can I help?”
I freeze staring at the phone, not expecting that response. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you offer to help? You don’t know me. And you don’t know her.”
“I think we’re slowly changing that,” I hear the smile in his voice. “If it will make you feel better, think of it as a tax right-off.”
I stare at the phone balanced on the back of my couch cushion. I have to deal with this head on. “Is this more of your flirting?”
“The donation or this phone call?”
“Both.”
“Yes.”
Now we’re getting to the bottom of it. I know how to shut this show down. “That’s really sweet. But you do realize I’m almost ten years older than you.”
“And?”
“And I don’t have time for this.” I grind out the words against my own will. Jaxon makes me wish I knew how to ride the bike again. But helping Mae is more in my comfort zone. Not dating. Or Jaxon.
“Were you not the woman speed dating tonight?” He chuckles.
“Yes, but that was my girls trying to get me out.” I massage my temples leaning
forward on my knees. “You know? To get me back on the bike.”
“You participating in speed dating to learn how to ride a bike?” The skepticism in his voice is comical.
I groan. “Not a bike, bike. But a metaphorical bike.”
“I see….”
No, he couldn’t possibly see. Because I don’t see. It’s clear as mud.
“Let me get this straight.” He is a persistent one. “Yuki and Jazz set up tonight? But you’re not interested?”
“Yes.” Now he’s getting it.
“Why would they go through the trouble?”
“A Smith Pact.” It slipped before I could stop it. My back is iron-rod straight and a bead of sweat is trickling down my spine.
“A what?”
“Don’t laugh.” I warn. Something about this man makes me want to tell it all. Which cannot be a good thing. I really suck at this.
“I won’t.” The smile is back in his voice. “But I have a feeling this is going to be good.”
3
I overshared. My kids nicknamed my plush cream sofa as the confessional and they’re right. I told Jaxon about the pact and Juanita’s Casa. What is wrong with me?
“Let me help.”
The phone screen is dark and I let his words hang in the air. I want to tell him all the things that make men run for the hills. I’m over forty. I am widowed. I am broken. Not on the outside but deep down where it counts. And for all the advise I give to my kids and friends, I am terrified of getting back on the bike.
A groan escapes of it’s on volition. I’m stretched out, shoes off, with the phone above my head balanced between the arm of the couch and a pillow.
“Here me out.”
“I might as well tell you my passwords, pin numbers, and all my dirty dark secrets—”
“You have those too.” His voice drops and my stomach clinches.
“Jaxon—”
“Yes.”
I stare at the ceiling using my memory to see the fan. The hem of my shirt is twisted around my finger. I’m laying on my cream pillows without a bonnet. I am breaking all the rules here. But the more he listens with an affirming word here, and a thoughtful question there, I realize I miss talking to someone like this. It’s been too long.
“My friends call me Ronnie.”
“Ronnie, I have a proposition for you.”
“Jaxon—”
“It will allow you to fulfill your pact and potentially save Juanita’s Casa.” I pop up all ears and the phone tumbles to the floor.
“What in the—” His rich laughter is floating around me inviting the butterflies in my tummy to play.
“Sorry!” I call out reaching around the side of the couch to find my phone. The backlight is guiding me closer. I glance at the time. “It’s three in the morning.”
“Yes it is. Do you want to hear my plan or not?”
“Blunt and bossy.”
“Not at all. I’d like to take you out.” It’s spills out—carefree and tempting.
“Is that your plan genius?” I could listen to him all day, everyday.
“I can’t wait to taste that sassy mouth of yours.”
That shut me up.
“Oh, don’t go silent on me now.”
I can’t hold back the smile. “Stop flirting and tell me the plan. Man!”
“You want to get on the bike and I want to be your….coach.” The word coach have never ever been so erotic to my deprived body.
“My coach?”
“Yes, Ronnie. Your coach.”
“And what makes you think you’re qualified?” I roll over on my stomach and cradle the phone in my sweaty hands.
“Who’s going to tell me that I’m not?”
“So, now you’re a dating coach?”
“For this summer, I’ll be your dating coach. Come on Ronnie, you know you’re curious. Plus you’re get your girls off your back. No more silky shirt men with chests all out.”
I burst into laughter. “You saw him?”
“I saw them all and the miserable look on your face. And I’ll make it easier. Five dates. And if you’re not having the time of your life, we’ll part as friends.”
“The time of my life? You’re that confident.”
“To get a woman like you, I have to be.”
I feel my resolve slipping with each perfectly crafted rebuttal. He must do this all the time. Finding the right words, at the right time. But when was the last time I’ve had this much fun. Tonight has been the most eventful night I’ve had in years.
“I’ll bite. I mean…you got my attention.” I’m certain he can hear my heart racing through the phone. We’ve gone from comfortable conversation electricity in seconds. I need to dial in back a little. “But how will this help save Juanita’s Casa?”
“Have you ever hosted a fundraiser?”
“A fundraiser?” I sit up. “No really. I did a couple with the PTA when my kids were in school. Why do you ask?”
“Is it something you think you could do again to help Juanita’s Casa?”
“I’m willing to give it a try. Tell me what you have in mind.”
“We talked until seven this morning.” I cover a yawn and gulp down the hot coffee. I almost forgot about our morning debriefing.
Jazz is bouncing up and down on the couch. “So, our speed dating worked?”
“What do you know about this guy?”Yuki’s face is stern.
“I’m not sure about that. Jaxon wasn’t officially on the menu.”
“The menu?” Yuki’s neck rolls back and she moves to sit on the coffee table in front of me, arms crossed. I hate this look.
“What child?”
“You’re really interested in this guy?”
I shrug and focus on the coffee. “He seems nice.”
“Nice?” Her arms cross. “How old is he?”
“Thirty…” I cough, “six.”
“Thirty six.” They screech in unison. I excuse myself. I need more coffee to make this conversation work. They are on my heels, like white on rice.
“Don’t you think that’s a little young mother.”
“Yuki wasn’t it you that push me into the whole speed dating thing?”
“Yes to have fun with a nice, mature man.” Her impression of my voice needs work.
“Well, he is nice and mature.” I pour the coffee, I can feel her hot breath on my neck. This was all their idea. I’m just going along for the ride. And the thought of Jaxon makes me smile. Yeah, I’m going to accept his proposal.
“But Momma, he’s our age.”
I turn to face my strong-willed daughter. “Yuki, this is not a forever thing. He’s only here for the summer. We’ll go on a few dates and it will help me get comfortable. It has been twenty years since I’ve dated. I think that reason alone is enough to accept his offer.”
“And what exactly is he offering?” Her exaggerated eye and neck roll are too much.
He is offering companionship. Which is lacking in my life. I have my family but they have each other. And when they all head home with their spouses, I’m alone.
His heated eyes and tempting mouth flutter to mind. And now my heart is racing again. Jaxon is offering a window in time where I can lose control. And maybe even intimacy. The tingling in my cheeks make me grab my coffee and dash to the living room.
“Momma!” She sounds thirteen again, and I chuckle.
“That’s enough Yuki. And Jazz why are you so quiet?” I turn to her.
Jazz and Dylan have been married almost two years now. I love her like she’s my own. We consider her our resident romantic and I see that look in her eyes.
“Momma you’re blushing. I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Oh no you don’t.” I warn.
“What if—” I swear I envision white horses with carriages, chocolates with roses, and wedding bands in her eyes.
“This is for the summer only. A few dates. He’ll move on and so will I.” I hear the words. I hope I can follow th
rough. The sheer feelings he invokes are enough to make me question whether I’m capable of handling a summer only situation.
“So you’re proposing a fling?” I glance at Yuki.
“No. I’m proposing that I’m a grown woman.” This is what happens when your kids are all in your business. “And what we decide to do is between us. Now to other matters. What do you ladies know about hosting a fundraiser?”
They both stare at me. My abrupt change in subject is not appreciated according to the whimsical looked on Jazz’s face and the skeptical gaze on Yuki’s.
“Listen girls. I won’t lie and say I’m totally fine with this. But I have to start somewhere. I like talking with Jaxon. He makes me laugh. He seems thoughtful. And I believe I will enjoy spending time with him.”
“But what about when he leaves.” Yuki places a hand on mine. My baby girl is a rock on the outside with a tender heart. I’m thankful her fiancé Dylan loves her for both.
“I’ll look at the experience with gratitude and move on.” I pat her hand, hoping I convince her. This is all new for me. I will enter in with an open heart and enjoy the time we have.
Yuki nods. “Just know, I’m here—”
“We’re here…” Jazz adds.
“…for you.” Yuki kisses my cheek.
“Thank you babies.” I feel relieved. “Now, will you two help me organize a fundraiser?”
I enter S&J a few hours later after working at Juanita’s Casa. I got Mae’s blessing to move forward with planning the fundraiser. Then I went on the hunt for an appropriate venue. But none of them had an available date before the end of this summer.
I called Jaxon and asked him to meet me here. The girls host a weekly social and I thought it would be a great way to kick off our dating adventure. I finish a glass of wine to calm my nerves.
“Welcome to Brew and Boujee.” Asher kisses my cheek and takes the stool next to me.
“Hey baby. What’s up with that name anyway?”
“It’s a play on a popular song.” He taps my glass. “You all right?”
“Yeah, just a little nervous.” I toy with the glass unable to look at him. Asher is my son. It is easier to tell the girls about my decision to date Jaxon than him. I drain the last of my wine, taking a deep breath. Here I go. “What do you know about Jaxon Reinheart?”
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