29
A grand gesture that isn’t big enough
[Midge]
“I don’t know what to do,” I say into the phone, cupping my forehead in my hand. It’s Monday morning, and I sit at the reception desk. I don’t want to be here, but I don’t have a choice after not landing Pendelton. After five text messages and three missed calls, I decide to respond to Edie.
“Since I quit my job and hoped to get a new one before my last paycheck ran out, I’m not certain what to do next.” I breathe heavily. “Sweet cheese, I never should have quit. Maybe I should call Katrina and beg her to take me back.” I cover my eyes, swollen and dry, the tears finally at rest. My heart literally aches, my chest burning. I didn’t bother with make-up to hide my pain. I wear my glasses instead.
“You can’t go back.” Edie’s tone holds firm. “You won’t go back. This is a sign. Brut said you could stay for as long as you need, right?”
“But I don’t want to take advantage of him, and the pay isn’t enough. I already weaseled my way into this position in order to get the Pendelton pitch.” Brut has been very kind, saying he feels responsible for Pendelton dicking me over even though it wasn’t his fault. After speaking with him first thing this morning, I called my ex.
“I also had the pleasure of telling Paul I might need help from him to make my cut of the tuition payments.” Sarcasm drips from my voice. Cowering to my ex-husband and asking him to step up was the last thing I needed after last night, but it was time to tear off all the Band-Aids. Paul needed to know my new financial position.
“How did that go?”
“Not well. After all we’d been through, I thought he could give me this time to figure myself out, considering he used time during our marriage to do the same for himself. He didn’t quite agree, especially with his upcoming wedding.”
“Fuck exes,” Edie huffs. “Well, you have a job at Restored Dreams for now while you look for something else. Just take one day at a time.”
“I know, but I shouldn’t stay here. Things are…complicated.” Hank and I have been a whirlwind from the moment we met in Edie’s bathroom, like high winds circling around one another, getting caught up in a storm of great sex. That’s all we were, right? I choke on thought. Tears prickle my eyes again, but I will them back. I don’t want to shed another tear for a man who doesn’t want me. Kit. Her name rings through my ears on repeat. My nose burns and I worry unwanted tears will follow. I’m so stupid.
“Is it Lawson?”
“No.” I sigh. “No, it’s not his son.” It’s the woman he produced said son with. A female rock star phenomena with a big secret and a cold heart.
“When I first learned of Lawson, it was a bit of a shock. I mean, who keeps such a secret. The place is like a morgue—a sterile memorial to Kit. But it’s what Tommy thinks is best for his nephew,” Edie reiterates, and I’m reminded Hank hadn’t prepped me in any way for the surprise of learning he had a child with the love of his life. I’ll add it to the list of things I’m upset over at the moment.
“What does Ivy say? He’s her brother.”
“Tommy’s his legal guardian; however, Ivy has become more vocal. She’s found a new passion with the birth of the therapy school. She doesn’t think Lawson should be a secret, but Tommy disagrees. He doesn’t want Kit’s name dragged through the mud from the grave. He wants people to keep their fond memories of her and not criticize her in memoriam.”
“Does that even make sense? What about those closest to her? Forget fans. What about family? Why didn’t they all know, and why can’t they share in Lawson’s life with him?” My concern momentarily returns to a secluded man with special needs, closed off from society, but more importantly, shut away from other human beings related to him.
“Honestly, I know what you’re saying. It’s the one area where Tommy and I disagree. He’s stubborn when he wants to be.” She snorts. “Lawson is Ivy’s brother. She does the best she can to include him in her family, but I know she wants more. And I’m not certain the best place for Lawson is locked in his mother’s house. Thank goodness for the day school for therapy and the round-the-clock aides.”
We pause, each with our own thoughts.
“How is Hank doing with all of this?” Edie hesitates, and the question stops my heart. I shouldn’t have left like I did. I’m guilty—like Kit, in some ways—of running away from him. Then again, he called me her. I’ve moved from tears to anger. I was there for him, willing to give him whatever he needed and even give him up so he can concentrate on this new discovery. Calling me his ex-lover’s name proves our hearts were not in the same place.
“Hank has a lot on his mind right now,” I surprisingly defend. “But that’s the way it should be, right? Lawson will be a big responsibility.” I scrub at my forehead, wanting to believe what I suggest.
“Midge, honey, Lawson is Tommy’s responsibility. Hank can’t just step in.” She stops. “Unless he’s planning something extreme. Some kind of custody battle or—”
“No, no, I don’t think he’ll do that. He just wants to get to know his son and learn what he can to be a part of his life, but he wouldn’t take those measures.” At least, I don’t think he will. I feel as if I no longer know him.
“Tommy’s so happy to see someone like you in Hank’s life. You’re so good for him.”
I don’t have a response for her. Instead, I close my eyes again, choking back the lump in my throat. I walked away from him. How is that good for him? But I had to protect me. My heart cannot take another crack. Hank means more to me than hot sex. I thought we…I pause. It doesn’t seem to matter what I thought. We are moving in separate circles; one where I believed we were connecting, but I’m clearly outside the ring.
I look over at the wilting flowers on the corner of my desk. I assume he bought them, thinking I would get the job with Pendelton. The champagne-themed cupcake sits in the refrigerator with a congratulations ribbon wrapped over the cellophane packaging. I blink a few times at the thoughtfulness. He’s sweet, just not enough on me.
“Midge?” The concern in Edie’s tone breaks through my thoughts.
“I should probably let you go. I have work to do here and I need to find something else.” The statement tastes bitter. I have nothing against being in this garage. In fact, I’m less stressed here than my previous employment, and the change has been rather nice. I go home at a set time and no work follows me. However, I need more income than Brut pays me.
“Maybe I could ask Ivy for something within the therapy school.”
Cripes, I can’t take more handouts. “No, Edie. That’s sweet, but I’ll figure things out,” I add with weak confidence. “I always do.”
“What about starting your own business?” Edie offers, and I snort in disbelief.
“Please. I can’t start a business right now. I need to feed my children first.” It’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I can almost picture Edie nodding. She knows what I mean. She told me she worked for years in a job she was good at but didn’t fulfill her like her position as manager of the therapy school. Gotta put food on the table somehow, she joked.
“Is everything okay between you and Hank? This is a lot to take in.” Edie softly adds.
“I’ve gotta go,” I practically whisper, my eyes closing once again.
“Okay. Call me if you need anything. Let’s get together this week.”
“Sure,” I say, my voice lowering. We hang up, and I pinch my forehead with my fingers. It’s going to be a long day.
“Why didn’t you say you needed more money?” The gruff voice startles me, and I spin to face Hank, arms crossed and leaning against the waiting room door. I’m ready to accuse him of eavesdropping, but the concerned expression on his face matches the pit in my gut. I can’t look at him. I refuse to feel sorry for him. It’s my turn to wallow in sorrow. My heart aches and I turn back for my computer although I’m blankly staring at the screen.
“And why can’t you start your own business?” The question brings to mind the night I told him of my dream. I’m blinded by the sweet memory of us dancing.
“I can’t.” It’s the only explanation I can give him. I see the reflection of him in my screen, but I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to talk at all. I need to find a new job and quickly.
“What about Pendelton?” Hank was pretty adamant I shouldn’t work for such a man, especially with his son’s advances. I tried to explain it was more about proving myself than getting the job. I wanted to feel I could acquire the account on my own.
I shrug, hoping to dismiss Hank, but I feel him step closer to my chair. I hear the rustle of his hand in a pocket and sense him lifting an empty coffee mug from the desk. Something metallic rattles against the ceramic and I turn with curiosity.
“If you still want to work for him, he’ll see you. I guarantee it.” His eyes weigh on the side of my face, but I don’t look up. Instead, I focus on the mug and the two metal cylinder pieces inside it.
“What’s this?”
“Spark plugs. His precious Bentley won’t start without them. I expect he’ll be calling soon. Better be ready for interview number two.” I can’t help but look up, questioning what he’s done. His only response is a wink before he turns for the garage.