Chapter 14
“Hurry up, Timmy, you don’t want to be late!”
“Be right there,” Timmy yells back.
He’s been on edge all day. Anyone who heard him while getting his hair cut would think he’s going to show up on the red carpet tonight rather than at a middle school dance.
“Don’t forget, she’ll want to take pictures so you need to plan for extra time.”
“How do I look?” Timmy comes in wearing a maroon button down shirt, with grey dress pants and a thin grey tie. He’s wearing shoes instead of sneakers, and rewashed his freshly cut hair so the front is parted to the side and hangs down just above his left eye.
I cover my open mouth with my hand. I wasn’t prepared for this. He looks handsome. That I’m used to, but not like this. It’s a mature-I’m-trying-to-impress-girls kind of handsome.
“What? Did I miss button my shirt?” Timmy looks down to check for himself.
“Not at all. You look great.”
“Timmy nods, I hope she thinks so.”
“I’m sure she will.”
The doorbell rings. I look around the house. Two laundry baskets full of clean, unfolded clothes sit on the couch. It doesn’t look awful, but certainly not the way I want the house to look for company. Especially not for someone who’s never been here before.
“Timmy, you sure you’re supposed to meet at her house?”
“Mom, I know where we’re supposed to meet.”
“Do you have any idea who’s at the door?”
My son shakes his head.
I open the door, and my heart skips a beat. Chance stands in front of me. He’s dressed for the dance, in khaki pants, a light green button down shirt that deepens the color of his eyes, and a paisley tie.
I think my panties melted in the last thirty seconds.
I never saw him dressed like this. A playful light shines in his eyes as they crawl up and down my body. His eyes must hold magic because with just that look, I feel dampness pool at the top of my thighs.
“May I come in for a minute?” He asks, pulling me from my staring stupor.
I pull my eyes from his so I can think. “Of course. I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you. Can I get you a drink?”
“No. I’m just here to see Tim for a minute.”
“Oh.” I call my son.
“Hey now, no pouting,” he’s wearing that sexy, smug look. The one he wears far too often. I want to pound on his chest until I wipe it off. “I’m doing this the only way I can.”
I’m confused, but I step to the side and make way for Timmy.
“Hey, man. I thought since its Valentine’s Day, you might want to give this to Arianna.”
Chance reaches behind his back and hands Timmy a red rose. How the hell did he pull that off, I didn’t even see it. My heart warms, my eyes tear. Chance is going out of his way for Timmy. He’s a good man. I feel incredibly lucky that he’s in both of our lives.
“Thanks, Mr. Carter. I got her one of those small chocolate hearts they were selling at school today. But I didn’t think of a flower.”
“Then I’m betting you didn’t think of one for your mother either.”
Timmy shakes his head. “No, I didn’t.”
“Then I’m glad I did.”
Chance reaches behind his back again and hands my son another red rose. Now I know what he meant. This is the only way he can give me something, anything, for Valentine’s Day without raising Timmy’s suspicion.
“After all, she’ll always be the most important woman in your life.”
With this realization comes an even more frightening one. I’m not falling for him anymore. The fall started during that first conversation on the school steps months ago. He worked his way under my skin, inch by inch, until he infiltrated my heart. Now I’m done falling. I’ve landed someplace I never thought possible, and it’s terrifying.
“Thanks, Mr. Carter.”
“Alright,” Chance, claps his hands together. “My job here is done. I need to get to school.”
I don’t want him to leave. I want to pull him inside and drown him in kisses to show him what’s in my heart and how much I appreciate what he did. I can’t though. I can’t do anything but say thank you and watch him go.
“See you.” Timmy’s voice pulls me back into the moment. “Mom, I’m going to text Arianna and make sure she’s ready.” My son turns and walks away.
“Thank you,” I say, as Chance takes a few steps away.
He turns back, and the look in his eyes, I can’t move. I’m frozen. Held in place by his very hot stare.
“It’s my pleasure.”
*
After taking about a hundred pictures at Arianna’s house, many with the Camaro as a backdrop, we arrive at school. Chance was right, I do like Arianna. She seems like a very sweet girl. Polite. Well mannered. And very pretty.
It’s not hard to see what Timmy likes about her. She laughs at his jokes and has a nice sense of humor. This is the type of girl I want Timmy to hang around. I couldn’t have picked out someone nicer for him.
I don’t bother parking. Instead, I pull up in front of the school building. I say goodbye as Timmy gets out and walks around to open the door for his friend. Friend, that’s a joke. Anyone with half decent vision could see he’s head over heels for her, and her shy, flirty smiles give away her interest.
I watch with pride as the kids enter the school, hoping I’ll catch a glimpse of Chance. I know I just saw him, but I never get enough of him, no matter how much time we spend together, or how long we go without seeing each other, I always want more.
Unfortunately, he’s not outside. I see his car in the parking lot. It’s not as good as seeing him, but knowing he’s near makes me happy. I leave looking forward to later in the night when we can text.
I go home wondering how I’ll pass the two hours I need to kill before I pick the kids up. I pull a vase out of the cabinet and fill it with water. Before putting my rose in, I trim the bottom of it and add sugar.
I bring the flower to my nose and breathe in the sweet fragrant scent. I love the way Chance maneuvered to give this to me. I love that he’s so great with Timmy. And the fact that my son likes and looks up to him. it warms my heart seeing them together.
I pull my phone out. And send a message.
Me: Thanks again for the rose. Both for me, and the one you gave Timmy for Arianna. I don’t know how to thank you.
I try not to keep looking at my phone for a response. He’s chaperoning. He needs to keep his eyes trained on the kids, not on his messages. My brain knows this, but my heart still hopes I’ll hear the chime of a new message coming in. It takes five minutes and a million glances at my phone, but I see the dots on the screen.
Chance: Can’t wait for you to thank me properly.
Me: I assume that would be sexually.
Chance: Of course.
I love how flirty he his. I love how Chance makes me feel. I love this silly giddy feeling I get when we talk or when we’re together. I love . . . I stop right there. I don’t allow myself to finish that thought.
I drop my phone on the counter as if touching it might prove fatal. What the hell is wrong with me? Chance is about here and now, being able to move on and fulfill desires. He isn’t about happily ever after. How I feel for him, it’s not matching up to any of this.
I love him?
I can’t. I don’t. I won’t allow myself to love him. I love my husband. Still. Always. Enjoying Chance’s company is okay. Fantasizing about him while I get myself off, who could blame me? Having the hottest sex of my life with him, that’s an experience everyone isn’t lucky enough to have. But love? It doesn’t fit. Not for me. Not for him. Not at all.
*
“Hey mom, a bunch of kids are going to Burger Buster. Would you mind dropping us off?”
My eyes trail to Chance’s car. It’s still in the parking lot. He’s still nowhere to be seen. Which is for the best. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, seeing his car leaves me with an empty feeling. Like something’s missing, which is absolutely ridiculous since the car I’m driving belongs to him.
“Mom? Can we go?”
“What? I’m sorry.” I glance at my son and his date through the rear view mirror. “Where did you want to go?”
“Burger Buster. Everyone’s going to be there.”
“We have to check with Arianna’s mother.”
“I already did,” she answers, with a sweet smile. “My mom said she’s okay with it as long as you are. And she’ll even come pick us up and drive us home so we don’t have to bother you any more than we already did.”
“It’s no bother, sweetheart. I’m happy to do it.”
I drop the kids off and head back to my house. By the time I get back, it’s about half an hour since the dance ended. I shouldn’t expect to hear from Chance. I shouldn’t expect anything from him, but the way he’s been acting, it’s hard not to. Didn’t he say he wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with me? Now that we both have free time, where the hell is he?
My phone chimes, and my heart leaps. I swallow hard, recognizing all the signs of an impending disaster.
Timmy: Told you everyone was going to be here. Even Mr. Carter and Ms. Ferraro are here.
Along with the message is a picture of Chance and a beautiful young woman sitting at a booth. A rose lays on the table. They’re looking at each other. Engaged in deep conversation, or staring into each other’s eyes. It’s a candid shot. He must not have seen Timmy, or I doubt my son would’ve been able to snap this picture. For a variety of reasons.
Ms. Ferraro is young. Really young from what I remember. A first year teacher. She’s beautiful, with long dark hair and chestnut eyes to match. I can’t see her features well in the picture, but I see enough for it to hurt.
Chance is out with another woman. On Valentine’s Day. A young. Unattached. Beautiful woman. The type of woman he should be with. The type of woman he can build a future with. She’d be a fool not to be interested. Lord knows he’s a great catch. And he deserves to be happy.
I don’t respond to Timmy’s text. There’s nothing to say.