Chapter Nine
Alexa
I woke up early the morning after Ian called me with a smile on my face. The anticipation about seeing him later was balled up in my chest and coursed through my veins like a dose of nervous energy. It tingled through me like electric sparks and eventually gathered in my toes. Once I got out of bed, I couldn’t sit still. The house was spotless clean from my cleaning binge last week and there was nothing left to do…so I went out for a run. While I was out, I decided to run by Emma’s house and see her mom. Ian’s mom too, I suppose. It was weird, but I still just thought of them as Emma’s parents. Anyways, I’d been putting it off, but I had to do it. I knocked on the door twice and was about to leave before her mom pulled open the door. My heart hurt when I saw her. She looked like she had aged ten years in the past month. She was pale and her usually beautiful dark hair was un-styled and uncut and the gray was more plentiful now than the dark brown. Her eyes were rimmed with pink…probably from crying herself to sleep at night. I almost regretted coming until her face broke out in a smile and some of the old spark was there in her eyes.
“Alexa! Hi honey! How are you?” She grabbed me up in a bear hug and when she let me go I said, “I’m good. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I was out for a run and I thought I’d just come by really quickly and say hello. Are you doing okay?”
“Fine,” she said, “Oh Alexa! Come in honey! I’m sorry.” She led me into the living room. It was dark in there like my room had been for that entire week I was so depressed and mad at the sun. The house was really clean though. I could probably run a white glove over things and come back without a speck of dust. I wondered if that was what she’d been doing with her time.
“The house looks really nice,” I said. It was for lack of anything better to say but I was surprised when she said, “Thank you. It’s all Ian. He comes by and cleans two or three times a week. I tell him not to, but it makes him feel better to help.” My heart swelled at that thought and at the same time I was angry at myself again for the assumptions I’d made about him. There was no way he was anything but a good man. Only a good man would take such good care of his family.
“How is your husband doing?”
“It’s up and down for us both, you know? He went to work today. That usually means it’s a good day for him. They let him make his own schedule since technically he’s retired already, so that’s nice too. When he’s having a bad day, he stays home and works in his shop.”
“I know that feeling. Good days and bad days.”
She looked lost for a second and then she said, “I don’t have many good ones. It’s so hard to know what to do…you know?”
“I know. I wish I came here today with some words of wisdom, but I can barely function some days myself.”
She nodded and looked like she was fighting back tears. Then suddenly she said, “Oh! Ian brought over the best cookies yesterday. Do you want some coffee or tea and some cookies?”
Ian brought over cookies. This guy was killing me. “Sure, that sounds good,” I told her. We went into the kitchen and while she was fussing over making tea I looked at the chalkboard hanging on the wall. It said: “Dinner is in the microwave. Eat. Both of you. I love you both so much! Ian.” I felt the tears stinging my own eyes as I read that. His mom noticed me looking at it and she said, “He leaves dinner a few times a week too. I’m not sure that either of us would have made it through this without him. He’s been our rock.”
I understood that. He was mine too.
*****
After my visit with his mom, I was even more excited about seeing Ian than I thought possible. There is nothing sexier to me than a man who takes care of his family. So what if he screwed up when he was a kid. He was a man now and from what I saw, a damned good one. I started getting ready for our evening early. I couldn’t sit still anyways without staring at the clock. It wasn’t moving fast enough and it was making me crazy. I took a long bubble bath and then I spent almost an hour deciding what to wear. I wanted to look good for him, but I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard. I finally settled on a tan A-line skirt that came to just above my knee with a tan lace blouse and a camisole underneath. It was casual but nice at the same time. I wore my tan cowboy boots with it and I straightened my hair. I just let it fall to my shoulders and frame my face. Nothing fancy, but again, nice. I put on just enough make-up to make my eyelashes pop and my lips look a little plumper. When I was finally ready, I was pleased with the look. I looked at my phone. It was two-fifteen and I had a text from my dad. It said, “Honey, if you’re okay I was going to have a drink with Tom after work and then I’ll be home.”
I texted back.
“I’m going to spend some time with a friend tonight. Don’t worry about me. Stay at Tom’s if you drink. I don’t want to worry about you.”
I got one back that said, “Okay, but if you won’t be home, text me, okay?”
He needed some medication. His neurosis was getting out of hand.
“I probably won’t be, Dad. But I’m going to be at my friend’s house, not out driving. Please don’t worry.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you too.”