Yup
Greta
IT WAS LATE Sunday morning and we were hanging out on Hixon’s furniture in his living room, watching TV.
Not surprisingly, considering his gender, Hix had shared with me he’d ordered the cable to be installed first thing after signing the rental agreement. So the guy had come to do it while he was moving in the day before.
In other words, we were watching the pre-game shows in clean, clear HD with the decimated remains of the plethora of donuts Shaw, Andy and I had gone out to get all over the coffee table.
I’d found the day before that Hix had a storage unit and his friends had emptied that as well as his apartment.
It included an old, beat-up desk that Hix had put down in the basement in a room that was just cement floor and unfinished walls that was meant for storage. But he put the desk there with the addition of boxes of his stuff from the unit (these being boxes of stuff from his life with Hope and before). Framed pictures of him and cop buddies, team pictures of him with his friends in baseball uniforms, old trophies, yearbooks and the like. This room was obviously going to be his man cave.
The stuff in the unit also included a big loveseat that matched his furniture, two big ottomans, one double-wide, to go in front of the loveseat and armchair, and another end table that hadn’t fit in his apartment.
Upon seeing this the day before, it had given me pause for reflection because it stated, when Hix had outfitted his apartment, he’d done it with a mind to his future. If he was convinced he could fix things with Hope, he wouldn’t have needed all that furniture for the house he’d eventually be setting up for his kids, because it certainly didn’t fit in his apartment and it was the kind of furniture that didn’t come cheap in a set.
With this in mind, I wasn’t sure Hix thought there was something to save in his marriage before he even gave up trying to save it.
This was a conversation for another time and that morning was not that time and not simply because everyone was on tenterhooks waiting for Hope to show and pick up Mamie.
No, it wasn’t that time because I was pissed and getting even more pissed.
By, like, a lot.
This was because I’d had time since the drama occurred with Mamie leaving her mom’s house very early in the morning and walking two miles to get to her dad.
It wasn’t that far in the grand scheme of things and it probably didn’t take long.
What it did was veritably scream her desperation to get away from her mother so she could get to her father.
And Hope had created that. Hope had done it not only from the beginning, divorcing a man like Hix, a father like Hix, for a stupid, fucking ring, but also behaving like a bitch and not having the motherly chops to hide it from her daughters.
However, it was more.
Much more.
Since I called Andy and shared what I could share so he’d know what he was walking into, I was able to think (and Andy was sweet as pie, he just felt bad for Mamie, Shaw and Hix and said, “I don’t have to come today if you think it wouldn’t be good, Ta-Ta,” to which I was happy I could reply, “Hix wants you with us, buddy.”)
I was able to think about what I’d walked into the day before after I got done with my last client. Seeing Hix’s house for the first time, being in it, seeing the big rooms and the fantastic wood floors and the great fireplace and the fabulous kitchen. Seeing how his furniture fit in it, it wasn’t cramped and way too nice for the space. There were boxes around, and when I showed, they were in the middle of moving furniture in the living room this way and that to see where they’d settle it, but it still already looked like a home.
It was also seeing Hix with his buds but more feeling it.
I knew Donna and I dug Donna. She was a tell-it-like-it-is woman who was hilarious. I’d liked her from the first time she sat in my chair at the salon. But I’d met his other friends and they were great. They talked and they gave shit and they worked hard, all for their friend because they were good friends but also because it was a good day.
A happy day.
A new beginning that held promise because a person they cared about was setting the crap life had hit him with behind him and moving on.
There was a weird vibe with Hix’s deputy Hal I didn’t get, but he was nice and he worked as hard as the rest without complaint.
He also hung with his wife, Ashlee (one of Lou’s clients, a sweet lady, though she had a strange sadness about her all the time that I’d always wondered about) and all of us for pizza and beer when all the big work was done.
We’d joked and laughed and chatted and shared stories, and it was clear they all loved Shaw to death and the same with Hix.
It felt good being around them. It felt good being a part of this new beginning that had such hope. It felt good that there was no tension, no worried looks, no caution, just friends hanging together after helping out a bud. It felt good being in that great house, the kind of house that Hix belonged in, where he could give his kids what he wanted them to have.
It felt real and natural and mellow and they’d all been welcoming to me at first, but that had melted into a feel like it wasn’t the first time I met Larry and Tommy and Toast and Herb and Hal, but like I’d known them ages.
It had been awesome.
And part of that awesome was knowing that Hix was going to be taking the afternoon off on Monday because his girls’ bunkbeds, dressers and desks were going to show, the sectional for the basement was as well, since he’d already bought them. I also knew that when the girls came back Monday night, they were going as a family to J&K’s Electrics to buy a TV for downstairs. The girls had already bought new sheets and comforters for their beds, they got them online and they were in big boxes in their room, ready for the furniture to arrive (except the sheets, I put them in the washer to prepare for the girls’ arrival the next day).
So it was all happening. They were all settling.
Sure, Hix needed some rugs and some stools for the island in the kitchen and things up on his walls. And he hadn’t lied. He might have bought furniture and towels but he didn’t go whole hog on anything else, had the bare minimum for his kitchen, so unpacking boxes didn’t take hours.
But they were there, and all that would come whenever it came and it didn’t matter when that would be.
They had the important stuff.
And another part of that awesome was knowing that Andy would be there that next day, as would I, sharing Junk Sunday with Hix and Shaw.
And the reason I was pissed, and getting more pissed, was the fact that, although that day had started great for Hix and me, Hope had screwed it all up.
She’d screwed everything up.
Hix and Shaw couldn’t enjoy their first day in their new house kicking back, watching football, relaxing and eating a lot of garbage.
No, because Hope’s crap had leaked in in the form of a desperate, sad, angry, sobbing young girl, who should be feeling none of those things, and they’d all been given no choice but to deal.
It didn’t surprise me that it was Andy who kept the vibe as sweet and smooth as it could be. Mamie was withdrawn. Shaw was showing signs he might be even more pissed than his dad. And Hix was trying to hide it, but I could feel the struggle he was having in controlling his anger and frustration.
So Andy being jokey and playful and excited about donuts and enthusiastic about Hix’s house and downright thrilled at how cool it was Shaw was going to be a marine (and so on) was semi-saving the day.
No one had forgotten the drama and everyone was on edge because Hix had called Hope to come get Mamie, and we were all waiting for her to show, but at least Andy got to be Andy. He might have sustained damage to his brain that forever challenged his abilities to live what was considered a normal life, but he’d never displayed any alteration in his functionality at being able to read a room and react to that, in this instance, being himself—loving and sweet.
So it was his eyes I caught first when the doorbell rang.
Shaw was cuddling his sister in the loveseat. Hix and I were in the corner of a couch. Andy was in the armchair. And when the bell rang, any smooth and sweet in the room vanished and Andy bit his lip then stretched out the lower one before his shoulders slunk up to his ears.
I gave him a careful smile as I felt Hix’s arm around me give me a squeeze before he set me aside and pushed out of the couch.
I turned to look at Shaw and Mamie, who had been lounged together, but now Mamie was on her behind with her knees pulled all the way up to her chest, her arms around her calves, her chin to her knees and eyes to the door and Shaw was standing, facing the door.
“It’s gonna be okay, guys,” I tried to reassure them, but Shaw’s lip just curled and Mamie only glanced at me before looking back toward the door so I figured it didn’t work all that great.
Right.
For me and Andy, it was time to clear the donuts away and set about making French onion dip and whatever else we could do in order to stay in the kitchen and give the Drake family privacy.
I started to open my mouth Andy’s way and fold out of the couch when I heard Hix mutter, “Hope, Jep.”
But I froze when Shaw hissed, “Unbe-freaking-leivable.”
I looked to Shaw then over my shoulder at the door where Hope was walking in, face a mask of fury as her eyes lighted on me and that fury didn’t change when they took in Andy. It only minutely changed when her attention swung to Mamie.
Hope’s father was walking in behind her.
He seemed to be feeling ill at ease, but I didn’t know the man and I didn’t get to take time to analyze his demeanor because Hope spoke.
“I love you. I love you more than you will ever know, until you have a child of your own. But Mamie, you scared me to death this morning and that is not okay.”
“I can’t believe you,” Shaw clipped and didn’t make anyone wait to find out what it was, precisely, that he couldn’t believe. He shared it. “You brought Gramps? You’re, like, forty-one years old and you got your butt in a sling and you bring your dad?”
“Shaw,” Hix muttered warningly.
I shoved to the edge of the couch and said softly, “Andy and me will just—”
“Yeah, why don’t you just,” Hope spat and I froze again, looking over my shoulder at her hate-filled face aimed at me.
“Hope,” her father murmured irritably.
Before I could snap myself out of it and get a move on, Mamie stopped me by speaking.
Or, more accurately, with what she said when she did.
“You’re mean,” she whispered then spoke louder. “You’re just mean. Like, you’re a grown-up mean girl. Like, so mean, they could make a movie out of you and everyone would hate you, that’s how mean you are.”
I decided not to look at Hope’s reaction to that because I felt the sting of those words snapping in the air, it hurt something awful and it wasn’t even directed at me.
I also decided not to speak again. I just pushed out of the couch and reached a hand out to Andy who was already getting up. He took my hand and we started to move toward the kitchen but stopped when Mamie spoke again.
“Greta, don’t go.”
Shit.
I turned to her. “Sweetie, I think it’s best Andy and I hang in the kitchen while—”
“I want you to know, in front of her,” she pointed to her mother, “that I like you. I like you with Daddy. You make him happy. And things have got better for him since you’ve been around. And if he got this house because it’s close to you, then good. Because it’s closer to Corinne and me too, when we’re with Mom. And it’s a pretty house. And it’s the kind of house Daddy and Shaw should live in.”
“Thank you, Mamie,” I said softly. “I like you too, honey. And you’re right about this house, though you should know, he didn’t get it because it was close to me. He got it because it was right for his family. Now Andy and I should—”
“And I wanna live here, even if you live here too,” Mamie declared. “Like Mom says you’re gonna be moving in, because you make things happy.”
I sucked in a huge breath and looked to Hix.
“Greta isn’t moving in, baby,” Hix said gently.
“Yet,” Shaw put in.
I bit my lip, squeezed Andy’s hand and he started tugging it, shuffling us to the kitchen.
“There are things you don’t understand, Mamie,” Hope shared.
“Yeah?” Mamie asked. “Well tell them to me.”
“You’re too young,” Hope replied.
“I’m not too young to know that Shaw’s right. I get it that Daddy hasn’t been with Greta very long and he’s got us so he can’t move her in, like, right away. But I see how they are together and Daddy makes Greta happy too. So she might not be moving in now but she will and that’s okay by me, and it doesn’t matter what you think or all you have to say about it to Miss Julie, it has nothing to do with you because you threw him away.”
“Baby . . .” Hix started, and Andy gave my hand a harder tug pulling me out of the room and into the kitchen.
He rolled the pocket doors closed behind us then crowded me back so we were at the opposite side of the kitchen.
We both stopped by the sink and turned to stare at the doors.
It was Andy who broke our silence.
“Jeez, Ta-Ta, I’d rather deal with Mom than that lady out there.”
I looked to him to see his gaze still on the doors and stifled my giggle that came because my brother was funny but also might have been because I was slightly hysterical.
When I controlled my inappropriate mirth, I asked, “You wanna make onion dip?”
He looked to me and his mind wasn’t on dip. “You okay?”
I nodded.
He stared at me.
Then he said, “Okay, Ta-Ta. Let’s make dip.”
We made dip. Then we grabbed chips. Then I found a pad of paper and a pen and I started to make a grocery list for Hix and his kids because, in unpacking the kitchen, I’d noted that Hix did not have many of the basics of cooking. I did this with Andy bent over the island with me, helping me. We figured out how to program the coffeepot. And then we just hung together uncomfortably, through that and all we’d done before, our eyes straying to the doors.
They finally opened and I was surprised to see not Hix or Shaw coming through, but instead, Hope’s father.
He shut them behind him but did it facing us and saying, “Just gotta give that family some time.”
I pressed my lips together and nodded, unpressing my lips to say, “Of course.”
“You’re mean to my sister, I won’t like it,” Andy declared, and I looked to him to see his chest puffed out and he was edging my way.
“I wouldn’t dream of bein’ mean to your sister, son,” Hope’s dad replied, moving to the opposite side of the island from where we were.
“Okay,” Andy muttered and relaxed.
“Are they . . . how are they doing? Are they okay?” I asked.
But before I got my last word out, Shaw could be heard shouting, “God, Mom! You’re unbelievable!”
“Not too good,” Hope’s father muttered.
I felt for him. He looked sad. So sad, he looked vulnerable and defeated, like his years were decades more than he’d actually lived.
There was nothing I could do about that except get even more pissed Hope was all Hope was.
“Andy, this is Mr. Schroeder. Mr. Schroeder, this is my brother, Andy,” I introduced.
“Good to meet you, Andy. And please,” his eyes moved from Andy to me, “both of you, call me Jep.”
“You want onion dip?” Andy asked, reaching out to shove the bowl and bag of chips across the island toward Jep.
“Not feelin’ hungry, son, but thanks,” Jep murmured, but did it with his eyes trained on the dip and they didn’t move.
I looked to Andy.
He looked to me.
The pocket doors opened and Hix strolled through.
“Jep, Hope’s goin’. Mamie’s stayin’ with me. She’s with me tomorrow anyway so no reason with the state of things for her to go back now. I’ll have time to get some things straight with her and she’ll go back to Hope after next week.”
I examined Hix’s face and saw he didn’t look furious, but he didn’t look any less angry and frustrated than he had been all morning.
“Right, son,” Jep replied, turning. “I’ll just get on with gettin’ her home.” He stopped next to Hix, lifted a hand and rested it on Hix’s shoulder. “We’ll just . . .” he patted Hix’s shoulder and removed his hand, “get past this. All of us. Eventually.” He turned to Andy and me. “Wish it was better circumstances. Maybe next time it will be.”
“Yeah, Jep,” I said. “Take care.”
He lifted his chin, Andy mumbled a farewell and Jep took off.
Hix walked farther in. “We gotta change Junk Sunday to Going-to-Dansboro-to-Pick-Up-Beds Sunday. Mamie needs somewhere to sleep and she isn’t sleeping her first night in this house on the couch. So I might need your Cherokee to get it all in. The place is in Dansboro. You up for that, babe?”
I nodded. “Absolutely.”
“I’m good at carrying things,” Andy proclaimed.
“That’d be great, bud, since Shaw and me’ll need your help,” Hix replied.
I turned to my brother. “Hix is under the mistaken impression that my broken nose means I can’t lift things.”
“Doesn’t seem mistaken to me,” Andy returned.
I rolled my eyes only to roll them back and see Andy grinning.
“Gotta call the store then we’ll move out,” Hix muttered and my attention went back to him.
He moved out before I could say anything and Andy moved out with him.
I moved to find some plastic wrap to cover the dip so I could put it in the fridge and join them.
It wasn’t until we were all going through the (also awesome) mudroom at the back of the house that led to the garage, where Hix had parked both the Bronco and my Cherokee, that I could grab Hix’s hand and waylay him.
Andy, and Hix’s subdued kids, kept moving.
Hix stopped and looked down at me.
“You okay?” I asked softly.
“I’m gonna sit down with Hope next week and hear her out. It’s what she wants and the woman goes all out until she gets what she wants. It shits me I gotta give her that, but if doin’ that might bring some peace to my family, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna freakin’ hate it, but I’m gonna do it. So right now, I’m pissed and feel like I’m trapped in a corner, but if all I gotta do is listen to her shit to get outta that corner and buy some peace for my kids, I hope like hell I’ll be better after it’s over.”
I nodded and squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“I’ll get it done quick as I can and then, hope like fuck, this can be put behind all of us.”
I nodded again.
“I’m gonna do that and Mamie’s staying with us but I don’t want her to get the impression she can pull crap like she pulled this morning and get her way. This situation is extreme but I gotta have faith Hope will get her shit together and be the mother her kids need so they can stop lickin’ their wounds or tearin’ ’em open wider and start healing. If not . . .”
He let that lie and I shifted closer. “How about we cross that bridge if we come to it?”
“Good plan,” he muttered.
“We should go,” I said.
“Yeah,” he replied and gave my hand a tug.
And then we moved out.
The bunkbeds were set up and they were great. A double on the bottom set perpendicular to the single on the top, made of wood painted white, a ladder with a little wardrobe to the side and a cute shelf off the top bunk that could serve as a nightstand.
The girls had picked a pretty green and white comforter with flowers and leaves for the double bottom, a matching, gorgeous matelassé quilt for the top, shams to match the comforter, white sheets and green toss pillows, with the addition of a nice strike of blue with green trim for another toss pillow to make it interesting.
Mamie shared with me this vision was Corinne’s and she had an eye.
We picked up the bed and mattresses from the store, but we could also fit in one of the desks (which was more like a vanity since it had a mirror) and a dresser so we put those in too and the guys set them all up. The rest of the furniture would be waiting for Corinne tomorrow.
While the guys were setting up, I offered Mamie a fifty dollar online gift card and we sat on our butts in the hall, going through Shaw’s laptop and ordering a lamp and a cute picture to go in the room. I told her Corinne would have the same, Mamie could tell her she had it, and she could help pick out stuff and email it to me and I’d order it.
But now, we were both on our knees on the floor in front of her dresser, finishing up putting her stuff away from the only boxes that hadn’t been unpacked, and although she’d gotten excited to buy her lamp and picture, she was quiet again.
I didn’t know what to do. The times when Andy was around that age and he could listen and retain (maybe, he had been a teen) what I said were long ago.
That said, even then I didn’t know what to do. I just went with my gut.
So right then, I had to go with my gut.
“She was frantic, your mom, when you took off,” I said gently as I handed her a folded leotard.
Mamie ducked her head and shoved the leotard in a drawer.
“Mamie, I’m not saying that to make you feel bad,” I told her. “Life stuff happens and sometimes it makes us feel so much, we don’t think before we react. We just gotta do whatever we have to do because we hope it’ll make us feel better. And then we learn and hopefully the next time we feel too much, we’ll have it in us to take a second and think. I’m just saying this because your mom is in a bad place right now, but you need to know that she loves you very much.”
She turned to me and declared, “See. Right there.”
When she said nothing else, I replied, “I’m not sure I see, sweetie.”
She gave it to me immediately. “You’re bein’ nice. About her. She’s not nice about you.”
“Well, I don’t know your mom and I can’t say why she does the things she does. All you need to know is, I speak truth. No matter all that’s happening, she loves you.”
“If she loved me she’d see it hurts me to watch her hurtin’ Daddy and she’d stop doing it,” she retorted.
She had a point.
So I just folded another leotard.
Her next came timid.
“Will you talk him into lettin’ me live here with him and Shaw?”
I looked to her. “No.”
Her face fell then it got hard.
I lifted a hand to the back of her head and gave her ponytail a little tug before I leaned close to her. “I want you to have what you want and I want you to be happy. And you don’t know it now but you need your mom and your mom needs you.”
“She doesn’t need me. She’s got Miss Julie to talk nasty to and help her stay angry.”
Another point.
“Things are gonna be happening with you—” I started.
But she cut me off. “Yeah. I know. Boys and maxi pads and blah, blah, blah. Dad’s lived with girls his whole life, I mean, he had a mom then he had my mom. When he went to the store, he bought her tampons like he’d buy a bag of potato chips and he didn’t catch fire or anything.”
I couldn’t stop my chuckling. Her lips quirked and she took the leotard from me and put it in the drawer.
Her mood shifted back as she muttered through quivering lips, “I wanna live with him.”
“And there’ll be a day a long time from now when you’ll look back and you’ll understand a whole lot more what your mom is going through and you’ll wish you had your share of time with her.”
Mamie looked at me and I kept going.
“I promise you that, Mamie. I’ll tell you straight, because I think you deserve it and I’m not sure you’re getting a lot of that with what’s going on around you because you’re the baby and they want you to stay the baby even though you aren’t a baby anymore, but I agree with you. Your mom is acting out because she’s upset and scared and hurting, and maybe she isn’t acting the right way. But just today, you took off and scared both your mom and dad like crazy. So if you think about all the things you were feeling that made you behave that way, maybe you’ll understand a little about all the things your mom is feeling that are making her behave in ways that aren’t right.”
Her mouth set, she jerked up one shoulder and she reached past me to get another leotard.
I just grabbed my own and started folding it.
Mamie changed the subject.
“I like Andy.”
“He likes you.”
“If . . . when . . . you know, say you and Dad get married, am I not gonna be the baby anymore?”
I was confused.
“Why wouldn’t you be?”
“Because you and Dad will have babies.”
My hands stilled but my mind didn’t.
I’d told him I didn’t want to have a family and how that affected me and Keith. And Hix had already made a family.
But he hadn’t said then if he’d want more.
We were both no longer young. We were also both not old.
Damn.
“Greta?”
I pulled it together and looked to Hix’s girl.
“Do you understand that what your dad and I have is very young?” I asked.
She nodded.
“So we haven’t gotten around to talking about that yet, and because of that, I have a feeling something about it is weighing on your mind. But do you get that if I haven’t talked about it with your dad I shouldn’t with you?”
Something lit in her eyes as she said, “Yes.”
“So how about we not talk about any more heavy stuff now and get you settled in then go down and join the boys and eat more food that’s really bad for us?”
That bought me a smile as she agreed, “Let’s do that.”
I smiled back, folded a scary amount of leotards and helped her clear the rest of her stuff. We had just begun breaking down boxes, an endeavor Hix must have heard because he joined us and ordered us out so he could do it (apparently, girls couldn’t break down boxes either).
Since that wasn’t my favorite task and there were only eight, we left him to it and went down to join the boys, the game and eat really bad food.
“I’m not sure this is the right thing to do.”
“I am.”
I sat on the side of Hix’s bed and watched him walk into the bathroom.
He closed the door.
I stared at it.
It was late.
Andy was back at the home. Shaw was in the basement. Mamie was in bed across the hall.
And I was spending the night, according to Hix, but I wasn’t sure that was the way to go.
He came out of the bathroom and I caught his eyes immediately.
“Hix, we need to slow this down.”
He walked right up to me, stopped and stared down at me.
“What, baby, from our conversation this morning gives you the impression we should slow this down?” he asked gently.
“The drama with your daughter that happened right after it,” I answered.
He bent to me and rested both hands on the sides of my neck. “Is this happening?”
“Yes, but—”
“Is it very much happening?”
“Yes, Hix, but—”
“Is there gonna be a day when you’re makin’ breakfast for more than just me in my kitchen?”
I nodded and whispered, “I hope so.”
He nodded too. “So everyone has to get the message that’s gonna happen, Greta. And I’m not usin’ you to make a point to my ex-wife or my kids. In that everyone, I also mean you. If you have genuine reason that any delay in relating that message will be useful, I’ll listen. But it is what it is and it’s gonna be that for a long damned time. So why delay it?”
Another Drake with a good point.
“Mamie asked me if we got married, if we’d have kids,” I divulged.
The pads of his fingers bit into my flesh momentarily before he let me go and straightened.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“I said I hadn’t even talked to you about it so I didn’t feel it was right discussing it with her.”
“Good answer,” he muttered.
“Hix—”
I said no more because he tagged my hand, pulled me up but he did it only to sit and tug me back down, right in his lap.
He wrapped his arms around me and only spoke when I looked into his eyes.
“You said you didn’t want kids,” he remarked carefully.
“I don’t,” I replied just as carefully.
“I got kids.”
I smiled a small smile. “I know.”
“Babe, you feel like changin’ your mind, you wanna make a baby with me, we’ll talk. But right now, that part of my life is behind me and I’m girding for losin’ my babies to the lives they’re gonna lead. I’m not feeling a hankering to go through that again.” He lifted a hand and ran his fingers along my jaw, murmuring, “We’d make a beautiful baby so if you want that door open, we’ll talk. But if you don’t, I’m down with that too.”
I stared at him and I did it not thinking about Mamie or Hope or our crazy day.
I did it thinking about all the times I’d had this very conversation with Keith, the crushing guilt that I so very much didn’t want to give him something he so very much wanted, that guilt compounded by the fact that he already gave so much I felt I was being doubly selfish not giving it to him.
But it wasn’t like he wanted an expensive new car that you could find a way to pay for or eventually sell and move on.
He wanted to make a child with me.
And I loved kids but the one I’d had had been work even before my mother hurt him in ways that would never heal. So in the end I’d just wanted Keith and Andy and calm and peace, because I’d never had the chance to live my life just how I might want it. I never would have that chance because I’d always have Andy, and I didn’t want more.
But with Hix, it was if you want it, we’ll talk and I’m leaving that door open, if you don’t, we’re good.
And I couldn’t cope with it being that easy.
“Baby, have you changed your mind?”
Hix’s question jolted me out of my reverie.
“Women are supposed to want to have kids,” I shared.
“There are a lot of women out there so that all-encompassing statement might not be true, sweetheart.”
“We . . . would . . .” I cleared my throat, the thoughts in my head tumbling. “We actually would make a beautiful baby.”
Hix stroked my neck and watched me closely. “Yeah.”
“If this . . . runs its course, we’ll always have Andy, Hix.”
He grinned at me. “If this runs its course,” he said teasingly, “we’ll also always have Shaw, Corinne and Mamie. It’ll be in different ways, but they’ll always be my kids and you’ll get to share in that.”
“I haven’t changed my mind,” I whispered.
“All right. But so I know where you’re at, you want that door open?”
God.
He wasn’t to be believed.
“Not right now but no door should ever be closed.”
He grinned again, moved in to touch his mouth to mine and moved back. “Right. That’s settled. Now are you gonna get ready for bed?”
“We can’t have sex. Mamie’s across the hall.”
His gaze drifted to the door and he muttered, “Yeah.”
“Quickie after the kids are off to school and before we go to work.”
He looked back at me. “Deal.”
That was when I grinned, pushed off his lap and went to my bag to get my nightie.
The lights were out and I was cuddled up to Hix who was on his back, stroking my arm, when he noted, “Andy’s a capable guy.”
I adjusted to put my chin to my hand that was flat on his chest in order to look at his shadowed face.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Can’t he be in a work program or something? A home where he has more independence?”
I shook my head but said, “The home. Yes. Though he can decide to roam which isn’t good, so there has to be supervision. He also can’t do things like cook on his own, because he forgets he’s cooking and things can go south when he does. But regardless, they don’t have a home like that around here.”
“Right,” Hix muttered.
I carried on, “But he helps with the staff and other residents who aren’t as functional as he is. The work thing, we tried that in Denver. He got a job bagging groceries and he had another one where he cleaned up and had tasks in the stock room and putting stuff on shelves at a hardware store. But if he gets frustrated or flustered, the results can be a little frightening. And he had a really bad seizure at the hardware store. It freaked out the customers, and even though the owner knew it could happen, it didn’t sit easy with him either. He’d been taught what to do but he felt pretty powerless, and for whatever reason, it wasn’t long before he said he had to let Andy go.”
“Think folks in a small town might have more patience and understanding, babe,” Hix remarked, and I nodded my chin on his chest.
“Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it, talking to his therapists about it. They get work requests and he’s been given a good deal of time to settle in and get used to the change. Maybe, if something comes in that fits, we can get him set up.”
“I’ll ask around,” he murmured.
I settled back into him. “That’d be sweet. He likes making his own money and he’s social. Stability is good but it’s also good when he has more than the people he sees all the time to talk to.”
“We’ll find something for him. And Shaw wants to go out and get him and take him somewhere to watch Thursday night football. I know that’s your day with him, sweetheart, but Shaw likes him and I think he gets what’s going on and he definitely gets he’s gonna be enlisting in the marines soon so he’s not gonna be around and he’s packing a lot in . . .”
He went on but I wasn’t listening.
I’d closed my eyes to beat back the wet.
“Baby?” Hix called.
“Shaw can have Thursday night,” I whispered.
His hand curled around my arm and held me there. “He’ll be okay with Andy. If he’s gotta keep his eye out for something, you just give him a brief but they’ll be good to—”
“I’m sure Andy will be fine with Shaw.”
Hix was silent a second before he asked, “Then what am I feeling coming from you, sweetheart?”
“I just . . . I just . . .” I moved my hand so when I turned my head to kiss his chest, I’d be able to go in direct. I settled back in on my cheek and gave his middle a squeeze. “I think you’re just feeling me being happy.”
He pulled me closer and his voice was gruff when he replied, “I’ll take that.”
He didn’t take it.
He gave it.
But I didn’t share that.
I whispered wondrously, “This is gonna work, isn’t it?”
Hix answered instantly.
“Yup.”
I shoved my face in his ribcage. “God, I’m gonna cry.”
“Baby—”
“No really, this time I’m gonna cry.”
Hix rolled into me so I was on my back. He was mostly pressed down my side and my face was held in one of his hands.
“You cry, I’m gonna have to take the time to comfort you and this will delay sleep so I’m not gonna have the energy to break in my headboard tomorrow morning during our quickie after the kids go to school.”
I blinked up at him and took in a shuddering breath before I declared, “I’m good.”
“Thought that would do it,” he muttered.
I slapped his arm.
He came in and took my mouth but I could tell his was smiling.
When he was done kissing me gentle, wet and for a long time, he rolled us back to our previous position and held me close.
I said no more because, if Hix was given the opportunity to change my world again, I’d totally lose it and end up bawling and not get headboard sex in the morning.
So instead, cuddling closer, with Hix’s fingers trailing soothingly on my arm, I just fell asleep against my man.
It was after morning pandemonium with Hix’s kids getting ready for school (which, to be fair to Shaw, who was definitely a morning person, after he woke up of course, was entirely Mamie).
It was also after our headboard sex quickie.
So I was letting myself in my side door with bed hair and sex hair after I drove home from Hix’s to get a shower and get ready for work, when I saw something come at me from the side.
Panic assailed me and I jumped back, my phone in my hand (I didn’t get out of my car without my phone in my hand anymore), a scream clogged in my throat, as I saw Hope storming up my drive toward me.
However, her step faltered when she witnessed how she’d surprised me and the determined look on her face melted to something that could actually be read as chagrin.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said when she arrived at me.
“Well, you did,” I snapped.
“I wasn’t . . .” She shook her head. “That wasn’t my intent.”
“Just for your education, after a woman is assaulted in her home, a sneak attack at any time, but mostly at said home, isn’t your best lead in.”
“I’m sorry, Greta.”
God, she actually looked sorry.
This could mean she was sorry.
Or she wanted something.
I braced.
“I just . . . I need to have a word with you,” she told me.
“I can’t imagine why,” I returned.
She stared at me. “You can’t?”
“Hope—”
“You need to step aside,” she stated quickly.
It was me now staring at her.
“It’s the right thing to do and you know it,” she went on.
“For who?” I asked.
Her brows shot together making her look both perplexed and annoyed. “For my family. For my kids. For Hix.”
“I’m not sure any of that is true anymore,” I shared honestly.
“Yes, because it’s not your family, though you’re trying to make it that way,” she returned.
I drew in a calming breath, deciding arguing with Hope was not the way to carry on my day after it had started so well (I mean headboard sex with Hix?—forget about it) so I also decided to try not to do that.
“You have things to say to Hix and he’s giving you time. Say them to him. Please keep me out of this,” I requested.
“You’ve wormed your way right into it.”
“Hope, I don’t want to get angry—”
“You don’t want to get angry?” she snapped.
“Stop it,” I hissed, leaning into her, and when I did her eyes got big, sharing surprise that stated eloquently Hope didn’t often have people call her on her shit. “Hix says you go all out until you get what you want but you’re an adult now, Hope. You have to learn that life is about getting what you want and it’s also about dealing appropriately when you don’t.”
“He talks about me to you?” she asked.
“Okay,” I stated curtly. “It’s clear you’re in a space where you can’t think of anyone but yourself, but if you manage to pull yourself out of that for a second, first, you’re the mother of his children so that’s gonna happen. Second, you’re his ex-wife so that’s gonna happen. And last, you’ve been pretty active lately in ways that don’t make him real happy so that’s gonna happen.”
“You need to step aside,” she bit out.
“That is not gonna happen,” I shot back.
“He’s my husband.”
“He’s not your husband, Hope. He’s my man. I’m angry you forced this situation but I honestly don’t intend to hurt you when I say that’s where this is at. This is real. It’s serious. It’s going places. And you have to focus on yourself and your life and your children and not on the man who is no longer yours not because he’s mine, which he is, but because he . . . is . . . no longer yours.”
Her expression turned catty. “We’ll see.”
“No, we won’t. I know how it is. You’ll see. And Hope, honest to God, you need to prepare because what you’ll see is not what you’re thinking, and as much as you’re obviously hurting now and trying to find ways to make it stop, if you don’t prepare, it’s only going to get worse.”
“You think it’s about the ring. He thinks it’s about the ring.” She leaned toward me. “But it’s not about the ring.” She leaned back. “And when he knows what it was about, he’ll come back.”
I stared at her and I thought about headboard sex.
I thought about the words to “At Last.”
I thought about the way Hix stroked the insides of my fingers in that sweet way and didn’t even know he was doing it.
I thought about Junk Sundays and having a broken nose and not being allowed to lift anything and slipping on a set of stairs and watching Hix leap down them to get to me.
I thought about the fact Hix had had a variety of opportunities to walk away from me and he didn’t. Even when I tried to close that door, he put his boot in it, keeping it open.
I thought about the man I knew who knew all the crap that came with me, and he didn’t go running.
I thought about that man and the man I knew him to be and knew he’d never tell me, not ever, that he was done with his ex-wife and he was intent to build something with me if he didn’t mean that down to the bottom of his soul.
And after I thought all that, I said to my man’s ex-wife, “Prepare, Hope.”
“We’ll see,” she purred, grinning venomously at me, turning and sashaying down my drive.
I watched her go, now thinking about if I should tell Hix that happened or not.
I decided to give it time. Not too much, if he found out before I told him, he might think I was keeping it from him if only to protect him, but he wouldn’t like that.
However, I had to shower and get to work.
I had a client.
“Right.”
I bit my lip at the way Hix said that after I’d shared with him what had happened with me and Hope that morning over the phone in the back room of the salon I’d just opened up.
That one syllable didn’t sound happy.
“She’s phoned,” he shared in return and my eyes went to the door as Lou walked through it.
Hope had been busy that morning.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“She wants to go to Jameson’s tomorrow night to have dinner and talk.”
Jameson’s?
The swankiest, most romantic restaurant in the county?
That bitch.
I narrowed my eyes at Lou but mumbled, “Mm-hmm,” to Hix.
“Babe, I’m goin’ over to her place tonight. I’m not going to freaking Jameson’s with her. Though,” he said that last word reflectively, “we should make a reservation.”
My eyes unnarrowed and I was pretty sure it was me who now had a smug grin.
Lou’s eyes weren’t narrowed. They were widened at me.
“I’d like that,” I said.
“Right, when the girls are back with her next week, we’ll go. And I’m not goin’ over to hers until after the kids and I get a TV. You wanna come with us? We’ll get a quick dinner after then you can hang at home with them and be there when I get back.”
“Is that what you want?” I asked.
“Do you have to ask that?” he asked in return.
“Probably not,” I muttered.
“When’s your last client?”
“I’m done at six thirty.”
“Right. We’ll have the TV by then. Wanna meet us at Po-Jack’s?”
“Yep.”
“Okay. Let me know when you’re on your way. You have time to hit the Harlequin for lunch?”
I grinned.
Hope was so going down.
“Yep.”
“What time?”
“One.”
“Pick you up or see you there?”
“It’s a block away from me, Hixon.”
“Okay, baby,” he said through a chuckle. “See you there.”
“Yeah, honey. See you there.”
“Later, babe.”
“Later, Hix.”
We hung up and Lou declared, “Your client’s here.”
“Right, I’ll go out and—”
She grabbed my arm. “Unh-unh. I just watched you go from looking like you wanted to commit murder to looking like a cat who got her cream. What’s going on?”
I didn’t have a lot of time so I laid it all out for her as best I could.
When I was done, she was grinning like a fool.
“What?” I asked.
“Yup,” she said.
“What?” I repeated.
“First, you got something to fight for and you’re finally freaking fighting for it, and since it’s worth it that makes me all kinds of happy. And second, when you said to Hix that what you two have is gonna work, he said, ‘yup.’” She leaned right into my space. “And I . . . fucking . . . love that.” She leaned back and cackled before she said, “Yup. That’s it but that’s all he had to say. Yup! That . . . is . . . awesome!”
She turned, nabbed an industrial-sized bottle of conditioner and turned back, strutting right by me and throwing open the door.
She shouted, “Yup!” into the salon as she walked through, and I noticed my client staring at her curiously.
The door swung closed.
And I burst out laughing.