DALE
“Do you have everything, Sally?”
We were running late, which seemed to be a pattern lately, and Sally had been dragging her feet more than usual.
“Can I see Clare this afternoon, Dad?” she asked. I couldn’t look at her as I shook my head.
“We’ll be coloring together, remember? Then you have a dentist appointment, too. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
It was Wednesday, three days after I’d woken up next to Clare. I had every intention of not leaving her bed until she’d given me a smile, then remembered I had a friend coming over to fix my washing machine. It was a piece of crap at the best of times, but because I didn’t want to spend hundreds on repairs only to buy myself a new machine, he’d agreed to come by early Sunday morning to look at it before taking his wife and kids somewhere.
Granted, it had been shitty timing, but also my salvation. I’d remembered Clare’s ultimatum, but I’d also felt a twinge of worry and panic when I woke up next to her.
The thing was, if I didn’t get blackout drunk, I usually only needed a few hours of sleep before I was wide awake again, and that Sunday morning had been no exception.
However, feeling her body against mine, I’d found myself utterly at peace, unable to remember when I’d last felt something like that. It had freaked me out so much, my washing machine had been the perfect excuse to vanish, grabbing a very sleepy Sally and leaving Clare’s home.
John had appeared not ten minutes later. I’d kept myself busy by helping him, then making a big breakfast for Sally, all without looking at the house next door.
By evening, I’d talked myself into even more of a panic, thinking Clare was going to be furious and it would be better to give her some time to cool off.
Monday had been busy. After doing some much-needed clothes shopping for Sally, we got home at eight, I gave her a quick dinner, then tucked her into bed—only to rock her through the night, crawling out of her bed at five to start the day all over again.
Tuesday, I’d picked her up from daycare, had pizza for dinner, then settled in to watch TV with her. Both of us had been too exhausted to do anything, even though Clare wasn’t far from my mind.
In bed this morning, after another short night and hardly three hours of sleep, I’d convinced myself that talking to Clare now wouldn’t be good because it had been three days of silence on my part. I knew I should’ve gone to see her right after John had left.
I was in love with my infuriating neighbor, but still couldn’t face her because all my apologies suddenly seemed hollow.
“When will I see Clare again? I haven’t played with Lacrosse in forever, and I sleep so much better after she sings to me,” my daughter announced, making me pause.
Something had been nagging me ever since I’d picked Sally up from the bed in Clare’s spare room, and only now did it hit me that we’d slept the whole night. Sally hadn’t woken, screaming for someone to come save her from the shadows.
She was right. She’d slept much better there. Still kneeling on the floor where I tried to tie her shoes—if only my stiff fingers would cooperate—I looked up at her.
“You’re right. Why is that?” I had my assumptions, but I wondered how her youthful mind saw it.
“I don’t know. When she sings, it makes me all warm inside and I feel cuddly. Mom used to sing to me. It sometimes reminds me of that.”
I lowered my head again. It was a mind thing, her thinking of her mom when Clare sang. Since most of her nightmares were about Jacky, I wasn’t surprised a woman singing her to sleep helped.
“Clare doesn’t sound like your mom, sweetheart,” I whispered, wondering if I should even say that.
“I know, Daddy. Clare sounds different, and she sings much better than Mom, but still…” She shrugged, then nudged her foot against my hand. “We’re late.”
I nearly rolled my eyes because that was exactly what I’d said about ten times since we’d gotten up.
After I finished tying her shoes, we walked out of the house. Sally ran ahead while I locked the doors, pausing when my daughter called out in excitement.
“Hey, Clare! And Lacrosse! Aw, my baby!”
I was about to turn, wanting to see Clare, needing to see her reaction to me, but I already knew what that would be when she spoke.
“Hey, baby. Sorry, but we need to hurry. Lacrosse has a doctor’s appointment and I still need to grab her papers. I’ll see you around, okay?”
I lifted my eyes to the woman next door. She looked paler, skinnier, her hair up in a messy bun. I knew she wasn’t going anywhere because she wore sweatpants and a loose shirt, the attire she usually only sported when walking the dog.
I watched how she bent and kissed the top of Sally’s head, not even glancing at me.
It stung, yet I knew I could only blame myself. Had I gone back Sunday, she might have listened, but now her walls were up high, higher than I’d ever be able to climb, and it made my heart crack.
Jesus, I needed to call my mom, get her opinion, then I needed to figure out what I’d say to Clare to make things better.
Shaking out of my thoughts, I walked to my car, strapped my daughter in, then drove to daycare. I walked in, signed her in while filling the paperwork out and dropped her off, then climbed back into my car and took out my phone.
Work had called twice already, but they could wait.
“Mom?”
“Dale? So good of you to call. How are things? Shouldn’t you be at work?” She sounded cheery. I heard pots clinking in the background, proving she was already cooking, although it was still early.
Whenever she was home, not busy babysitting me and my daughter, she usually had friends over. Sometimes I thought she feared she’d die if she tried slowing down.
“Remember how you said I’d only make a mess if I used a woman just for sex?”
She sighed, drawing the sound out. I knew she was seriously annoyed with me. “How big is it?”
I blinked. “How big is what?”
“Your mess,” she replied, exasperated.
“You know I slept with Clare. You’re my mother. You always know…things.” I’d almost said “shit”, but figured cursing wouldn’t soften her in my favor. “You mentioned it, too. Anyway, she fell for me, and you were right. I wanted more from her, too. I just… When she told me I couldn’t leave again, couldn’t slip out of her bed or she’d never give me another chance, I panicked. I mean, I woke up next to her and realized I loved her. Mom, I don’t even know how that happened. I didn’t want to leave, I truly didn’t, but too many things suddenly played over in my mind. I know nothing about her. I have no idea what her favorite color is, if there’s food she’s allergic to.” I debated mentioning that I’d also gotten her pregnant and may have made it sound as if I didn’t want the child, but my mother would kill me for that.
Twice.
“And you walked out, I assume?”
“Only because I had an appointment. I wanted to go back and explain things, but—”
“You made excuse after excuse, although it could’ve been an easy fix. Now it’s not. Now it’s her locking you out.”
I almost laughed at that because Clare never locked her doors, but I also knew my mother didn’t mean that literally. “I just… I don’t know. I’m terrified. What if we’re the worst match ever?”
She stayed silent for a moment, then cleared her throat. “What if you’re the best match ever?”
I hesitated, then put the car back in drive. “I gotta go, Mom. Thank you.” I hung up, not waiting for her to tell me she loved me. I knew that better than most sons did. I quickly drove home, blowing out a relieved breath when I saw Clare’s car still in the driveway.
I walked up to her house, opened the screen door, grabbed the doorknob—and bumped right into the unyielding wood.
The pain zapped across my forehead and straight into my heart because I knew the only reason Clare locked the door was to prevent me from coming in.
For a moment, I considered knocking, but since I hadn’t yet figured out what to say, I figured I’d try to break down her defenses once I had a better plan in place.
Besides, I needed to get to work. Clare’s anger wouldn’t go anywhere.
In the back of my mind, I knew it was just another excuse, but I still walked away, even though I knew better.
Hell, she’s stubborn, but so am I.