WES

My dad went up to the house, and my mother dropped into the chair Hannah had vacated a moment earlier.

“Any plans tonight?” she asked breezily.

“No.”

“You should get out more.” Her tone was reproachful. “You’re never going to meet anyone if you’re always hanging around the house with your family.”

“I’m fine, Mom. I like my family. And I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Don’t get me wrong, dear, family is the most important thing in life, but aren’t you thinking of starting your own? After all, you’re not getting any younger.”

I gave her a wry look. “Thanks.”

“Why don’t you let me introduce you to someone?”

“No.”

“She’s so lovely.” My mother went on as if I hadn’t even spoken. “Beautiful, smart, very poised and mature.”

“Mom. Stop.”

“She’s the granddaughter of one of the ladies in my bridge group. I think she works for one of the big pharmaceutical companies, lots of traveling around to different doctors’ offices, that sort of thing. She even comes to Daddy’s office sometimes.”

“Enough. I’m sure she’s great, but I’m not interested.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not looking for anyone.”

“That’s ridiculous. Of course you are.”

I turned and stared at her. Was she insane?

“If you want a family, and I know that you do, then you need a wife,” she said, like it made all the sense in the world. “Maybe you’re not actively pursuing someone right now, but you don’t want to let the perfect wife slip away just because you’re not quite ready yet.”

“Do you even hear yourself?”

“What?” She lifted her shoulders in a who, me? shrug. “I’m just pointing out the obvious, darling. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you have to be aware of the future. You’re taking the steps one by one—coming home, taking over Daddy’s practice, buying a house. The next logical step is a wife and family.”

I frowned. “Leave it, please.”

“And you’re a doctor in a small town,” she went on, continuing to ignore me. “People look up to you. They have to be able to trust your judgment. You can’t run around with just any old Jane.”

“Jesus Christ. Will you stop?” I had a long fuse, but she was nearly at the end of it.

“I’m only trying to help, Wes.” She rubbed my arm. “I want to make sure you have the best of everything, darling. Choosing just the right person to share your life with is important. And sometimes people need help finding that person.”

“Well, I don’t. So thank you very much for your concern, but I have enough going on without adding a relationship to the mix.”

“What? What do you have going on?” she pressed, throwing her hands in the air. “As far as I can see, you only have work. You never see any friends, and the only grown-up you spend any time with at all besides your parents is Hannah. And I’m not certain that’s the best thing for you.”

I leveled her with a look. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

She flashed her palms at me. “Don’t get angry, darling. I only mean that Hannah is still getting over Drew’s death. She still wears her wedding ring, bless her heart. But she’s obviously very depressed and unhappy, and I don’t think she’s a very good influence on you. Both of you need some other friends. The only friends I know of that she has is a group of widows like herself.”

Stay calm. Remain seated. It won’t do Hannah any good to blow up at Mom. “Maybe she likes being around them because they understand what she’s going through.”

She shrank back. “But it’s so morbid, don’t you think? Why not cultivate a group of friends based on something healthy and happy, like gardening or cards? I invited her to my bridge club a few times, but she turned me down.” Her tone and expression told me she was still peeved about it. She lowered her voice and spoke conspiratorially. “I don’t think she knows how to play. Bridge is sort of an intellectual game.”

Was smoke coming from my ears? Felt like it. I gripped the arms of the chair I was in. “Enough about Hannah. She’s doing the best she can to recover from a sudden and unimaginable loss, to parent Abby all on her own, and I think she’s doing an amazing job. You’re being way too hard on her.”

“Perhaps,” she said with a sigh. “I don’t mean to be. I guess I’ve simply never understood her very well. She wasn’t at all who I thought Drew would choose. What did they even have in common?”

“They loved each other.”

“I suppose.” Another heavy sigh. “Your brother always was a fool for a pretty girl.” She patted my arm. “I’m sorry if I upset you, darling. I only want you to be happy. What else do I have?”

“It’s fine.” At this point, I just wanted the conversation to be over. “But no match-making, okay? I’ll find someone on my own when I’m ready.”

“Okay, darling. I better go get dinner started.” She went up to the house, but I stayed on the beach a while longer, staring at the lake and thinking about the promise I’d made to Hannah last night.

Don’t make promises, she’d begged. Life makes them impossible to keep.

It hurt me to think life had treated her so harshly that she couldn’t trust me, but I understood. Life threw some pretty bad shit at you sometimes. I’d seen plenty of it in Africa—famine, disease, war, poverty. It could wear you down, make you feel hopeless, make you feel like nothing you did mattered because we were all just pawns in a larger game being played by forces way beyond our control. It made you feel small and helpless and alone.

But you pushed forward. You kept going. Because there was beauty, too. The smile of a child you’d saved. The tearful gratitude of his parents. The people who worked beside you, sacrificing time and money and often their own health, for the greater good. And it made you appreciate things more.

The scent of cookies baking in the oven. The sound of the waves at night. The embrace of the woman you’d always loved.

Yes, life could be short and cruel. But we had each other, and we could spend whatever days we were afforded being happy together.

It was the only way to fight back.

* * *

On Monday morning, I got a call from Brad telling me my offer on the house had been accepted. I listened to his voicemail at lunch and called him back as I drove home from work.

“Hey, Brad. Got your message. That’s great news.”

“Yeah, congrats. You excited?”

“Hell yes. I’m so ready to move out of my parents’ house.”

He laughed. “I bet.”

We talked a little about securing the mortgage and setting up a meeting to sign the papers before I asked him for a favor. “Any chance I could get a key a little early so I can show my folks the house?” The owners had already moved to Florida, so the house was empty.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. Want to swing by my office?”

“Now?”

“Sure. As long as you don’t throw a party in there or anything, you can show it off.”

I laughed. “I’m moving there to get away from people. No parties for me.” Unless it’s a party of two.

“I’ll be here until seven. Come on by.”

I picked up the key from Brad and sat in the parking lot of the real estate office a moment, my phone in my hand. I was dying to call Hannah and invite her to see the house, but I didn’t want to invade her space. She’d asked for some time to think, and I wanted to honor my pledge to give it to her.

But a phone call would be okay, right? She could always ignore it if she didn’t want to talk to me. Or maybe a text. That was better. And if she didn’t answer right away, I’d just drive home and see if my parents wanted to see the house. That’s what I’d told Brad I was doing, anyway.

Hey, you. My offer was accepted. Want to see the house?

I hit send and waited a moment, holding my breath. Jesus, it was like being thirteen all over again. I like you, do you like me? Check yes or no.

My phone vibrated in my hand. She was calling me.

“Hello?” I couldn’t keep a smile off my face.

“Hey! Congratulations!”

“Thanks.”

“That’s such great news. I’m so happy for you.”

“Now I can get out of my mother’s house.”

She laughed. “A very good thing. I can’t wait to see it!”

“Want to? I have a key. Brad said it would be okay to go there since the owners are already gone.”

“Oh my gosh, I’d love to!”

“I’ll pick you up.” I started my car, eager to see her.

“Can Abby come too?”

“Of course!”

“Great. I’m so excited, Wes.”

“Me too. See you in a few.”

I practically sped to Hannah’s house. When I pulled into the driveway, Abby came running out, a big smile on her face. I got out and opened up the back door. “Hi, Abby. How was school?”

“Good.” She climbed into the back seat. “Mommy’s getting me a booster seat.”

“Ah.” I hadn’t thought about that.

“And she said maybe we can go for ice cream after we see your new house.”

“That sounds good. Although I haven’t eaten dinner yet. Maybe I can just have ice cream for dinner.”

She giggled as the garage door opened and Hannah emerged with a purple booster seat. She gave me a smile that made my heart speed up. Her hair was down again, and I wished she could give me a hug so I could smell it.

“You look nice,” she said. “I never see you in your work clothes.”

“Thanks.” I walked over to her and took the seat. “I got this.”

“Okay.” She got in the passenger seat while I secured Abby on the booster in the back.

On the drive to the house, I felt ridiculously lighthearted. Just having them in my car, the fact that we were going somewhere together for the first time, made me happy. “Want the radio on?” I asked.

“Yes! Put it on seventy-three!” said Abby.

Hannah laughed. “She likes the forties station on satellite radio.”

“Perfect.” I turned on the radio and found the station she wanted. Frank Sinatra’s smooth baritone filled the air.

“I love this song,” Hannah said wistfully. “I wish popular music was still like this.”

“Me too,” I said.

“And you could dress up and go to a supper club on a Saturday night and dance with your sweetheart. No one dances like that anymore.”

“You like to dance?”

“I used to. Drew hated it.”

“That’s probably because our mother dragged us to dance class when we were young.”

“What?” she said, laughing. “I never heard that.”

“It wasn’t just a dance class, actually. That was just the part we hated the most. It was more like a course on manners and behavior. Social skills. Etiquette for caveman boys.”

“Oh my God. That’s hilarious. And you went?”

“We had to.” I turned into the driveway, which sloped downhill toward the house.

“And did you learn to dance?”

“I did. And I was pretty good at it, thank you very much. The part I dreaded most was the asking. I was too shy and always scared the girl would say no.”

“Of course you were.”

“One time I worked up the nerve and the girl said yes. But halfway through the song, she said, ‘I’m sorry. This is just too awkward.’ And she left me there.”

“No! The horror!” She clutched her chest. “Were you scarred for life?”

“I was. To this day, I hate that song.”

“What was it?”

I shuddered. “More than Words.”

“Oh my God, I love that song!”

“You and everybody else but me.”

She patted my shoulder consolingly. “I promise I will always say yes if you ask me to dance, and I will finish the song every time.” Then she gasped. “Look at your house! It’s beautiful!”

“It needs some work, but thank you.”

I let us in and gave them a tour, and Hannah’s enthusiastic praise for everything from the view of the lake to the high ceilings and roomy kitchen made me feel even better. Abby liked the purple and orange sponge paint in one bedroom, and was disappointed when I told her I’d probably have it repainted.

When we finished touring the house, we walked down to the beach. Abby asked if she could take off her socks and shoes and put her feet in the water, and Hannah said it was fine, but not to get her clothes wet. We stood side by side and watched her splash around and toss stones at a giant rock sticking out of the water about fifteen feet out.

“It’s a great house, Wes. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.” I glanced at her profile. My hands ached to touch her. “How are you?”

“Good.” She gave me a shy smile. “You’re so handsome. I keep wanting to stare at you.”

“God, Hannah. You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now.”

She sighed. “I beg to differ.”

But we stayed a respectable distance apart. “I missed you last night.”

“I missed you, too. I kept wanting to call you, but then I’d talk myself out of it because I’m supposed to be taking time to think.”

“I know. I was the same. I picked up my phone a hundred times to text you, but told myself to leave you alone.”

“And I am thinking. But the problem is that I always wind up thinking about the sex and then I’m so distracted, I can’t even remember what else it was I was supposed to be thinking about.”

I laughed. “I believe it was something about making sure you’re making good decisions for Abby. And for yourself.”

“Oh, right.” She hugged herself. “Getting a little chilly, isn’t it?”

“Are you cold?” I couldn’t help it. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders to warm her up.

She looked up at me in surprise. “Just a little. But that feels so nice.”

It did. So I kept my arm around her, even when Abby turned and saw us. If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. “Can we go get ice cream now?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Sit down for a minute and let your feet dry, Abs. Then we’ll brush off the sand so you can put your shoes back on.”

“Okay.” Abby wandered about twenty feet away and perched on a cluster of boulders at the edge of the water, singing softly to herself.

Hannah glanced up at me. “Think we’re confusing her?”

“Maybe,” I admitted, reluctantly taking my arm from her shoulders.

“No, put it back.” She lifted my arm and snuggled into its curve. “If she asks, I’ll tell her the truth. I was cold and you warmed me up.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll leave out the part where I want more then just your arm on me and I can’t stop thinking about getting you out of your nice work pants and fucking you on your new kitchen floor. Or maybe in your new shower. Or even in your backseat. My imagination isn’t being too picky.” She kept her eyes on Abby as she spoke, her voice low.

“Christ.” I tried to adjust the crotch of my pants without letting on what I was doing. She was speaking quietly, but my dick heard every word.

She giggled and glanced down. “Problem?”

“Just don’t talk for a minute.”

She laughed again. “Okay. I’ll be nice. But maybe you can come over later?”

I hesitated. “What about Abby?”

“She goes to bed by eight. Come at nine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She tipped her head to my shoulder, but only for a second. “I want to be with you tonight.”

* * *

We went for ice cream, but when Hannah heard that I hadn’t eaten dinner yet, she made me promise to come in when we got back to her house so she could feed me. My mother probably had dinner waiting for me, but I couldn’t say no to Hannah. I shot my mom a quick text.

Don’t hold dinner for me.

Feeling a little guilty, I added a heart emoji before getting out of the car and following Hannah and Abby inside the house. She warmed up the lemon chicken and vegetables she’d made earlier, and even poured me a glass of wine before joining me at the table with her own glass. Abby brought a little book she’d made in school to the table and read it out loud to us while I ate.

“Wow, Abby. You’re such a good reader,” I told her. “Did you learn all that in kindergarten already?”

“Some of it,” she said, tugging on a blond curl. “But some Mommy taught me. I already know a lot of our popcorn words.”

“Popcorn words?”

She giggled. “It’s not really popcorn. It’s words we use a lot.”

“Basic sight words,” Hannah explained, taking my empty plate to the sink. “Abby is getting really good at them. Okay, kiddo, up to the bath.”

I finished the rest of my wine and brought the glass to the sink, where Abby was loading the dishwasher. “Thanks for dinner. Delicious, as usual.”

“You’re welcome.” She glanced over her shoulder at Abby, who was still at the table. “Say goodnight to Uncle Wes.”

She slid off her chair and came over to me, reaching up.

Crouching down, I hugged her. “Night, princess.”

“Night, Uncle Wes.” Then she wandered down the hall and up the stairs, singing to herself again. “She’s always singing. What about music lessons or something? Piano, maybe?”

Hannah sighed and dried her hands on a towel. “I wish we had a piano.”

“So let’s get you one.”

She rolled her eyes. “Pianos are big items, Wes. And pricey.”

“I’ll buy it.”

“No.”

“Come on. Do you know how happy that would make me?”

She eyed me dubiously.

“I’m serious. Please let me do this for her. Studying an instrument is so good for kids.”

“It is.” She bit her lip, torn between accepting such a big gift and wanting Abby to have it. “We’re not your responsibility.”

“Hannah.” I took her by the shoulders and turned her to face me. “Let me. It’s best when they start young. You can pay me back later, if you want to. In blowjobs, even.”

She broke into laughter. “Deal.”

I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Good. Now I’m going to find the best, most expensive piano money can buy. I want it to take forever for you to work off.”

“Ha. I better get upstairs. See you later?”

I nodded, but I didn’t want to leave. “See you later.”

I let myself out and drove home, feeling much better than I had yesterday about everything.

Trust my mother to ruin my mood.

“Wes? Is that you?” she called from the kitchen when I came in the front door.

“It’s me.” I wished I could just go to my room and avoid her interrogation, but I dutifully went into the kitchen to say hello.

“Did you eat?” she asked, closing up the dishwasher and turning it on. “I can make you a plate.”

“I ate.” I leaned back against the counter, hands in my pockets.

She waited expectantly, and when I didn’t offer any details, she asked. “Where?”

I thought about lying and decided against it. “At Hannah’s.”

She blanched. “What were you doing at Hannah’s?”

“I took her and Abby over to see my new house. Brad called today—the offer was accepted.”

But instead of being happy about that, she focused on the part where I took Hannah to see it first. “You took them to the house already? I haven’t even seen it!”

“Would you like to? I have to return the key to Brad tomorrow, but I’d be glad to run over there with you right now and show you around.”

“I can’t. I have bridge club tonight. I have to leave soon.”

“Well, let me ask Brad if I can keep the key one more day. I’ll take you there tomorrow after work.”

She pressed her lips together. “That will be fine, I guess. But I won’t say I’m not hurt that you took Hannah before you took me. Or Daddy,” she added as she took a sponge from the sink and began wiping down the island.

“Come on, Mom. It was just a quick thing. I thought it would cheer her up, and I wanted to get her opinion on the kitchen remodel.”

“I can help you with that too, you know.” She scrubbed viciously at a spill on the marble.

“I know. And I’ll be glad for your help. I’ll need a lot of help with this new house. Your input will be needed and appreciated.”

That seemed to mollify her, and her movements slowed, her voice softening. “Fine, dear. But I do wonder,” she began in a way that let me know I wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “I do wonder if all this time with Hannah isn’t a little bit…tacky.”

“Tacky?”

“Well, people talk. And if they see you two together around town, or catch you coming and going from her house, they might get the wrong idea. Of course, I know that nothing untoward is going on, but can you imagine the terrible gossip that would spread? The name calling? Poor Hannah. It would be devastating to her reputation. Not to mention little Abby.”

“What do you mean?”

“Children can be horribly cruel. If they hear their parents saying things, they might repeat them.” She took the sponge to the sink and rinsed it. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, dear. I’m only concerned for Hannah and Abby.”

She was so full of shit. “But not me?”

“Well, of course for you too, dear.” She began wiping down the counters again. “But it’s always the woman people focus on. Always the woman who takes the blame and the brunt of the criticism. Because men aren’t expected to behave properly—no offense, dear—and it’s never shocking when they let their you-know-whats make their decisions. But a woman is expected to know better and behave a certain way. If she doesn’t, she’s called a slut.”

“Mom.” My voice was sharp.

“What? I’m not saying it’s right,” she went on, as if she was above such nonsense. “But it’s reality. It’s human nature to gossip, and that’s what they’ll say. I’m just being honest.”

“If anyone said that about Hannah, I’d fucking punch them in the face.”

She stopped moving and looked up at me, shocked. “Wesley Davis Parks!”

“What? I’m not saying it’s right,” I went on, mimicking her tone, “but it’s what I’d do. I’m just being honest.”

Her spine went ramrod straight. “I did not raise a boy who talks to his mother that way.”

“Should I go to my room?”

“Yes!” she snapped.

I would have laughed, except I was too furious. Instead of going to my room, I grabbed my keys again and went right back out the front door. It was only quarter after eight, so I couldn’t go to Hannah’s yet, but I had to get out of the house. I drove into town, parked, and ducked into a bar called The Anchor.

There were plenty of seats open at the bar, and I chose one toward the back. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. When the bartender came over, I ordered a beer and then sat there brooding into it. Fucking mothers! Why did they have to be so difficult?

But I couldn’t help wondering if there was any truth to what mine had said. Was I putting Hannah and Abby at risk by spending time with them? Were people so cruel and heartless that they’d talk that way? Deny them the chance to be happy? What the fuck was wrong with people? Did they have nothing else in their lives?

While I was fuming about it, a few women came in, laughing breezily about something. After every one of them eyed me up, they sat at a high-top table right behind me and proceeded to further destroy my faith in humanity.

“Oh my God, did you see what she was wearing?”

“I probably shouldn’t say this, but I heard he can’t get it up.”

“I’m not trying to be mean, but someone needs to tell that woman she is not a size eight anymore.” ”

“Who does he think he’s kidding with that car? Hello! Midlife crisis!”

“Please. It’s so obvious the way she throws herself at him.”

“He’s totally cheating on her. You can just tell.”

In fifteen minutes, I heard enough gossip and trash talk to last me a lifetime. I felt sick to my stomach. Was my mother right?

And then.

“I know. I kind of freaked out when I saw him. I forgot he had a twin.”

Jesus. Did they think I was deaf? It’s not like they were whispering.

“I know. So hot.”

“My mother goes to that practice. Maybe I should, too.” Snicker, snicker. “Get a little mouth to mouth.”

Gasp. “You’re so bad.”

“What? He’s fucking gorgeous. I might pretend to choke right now.”

“I used to be friends with Drew’s wife. Have you seen her lately? Way too skinny.”

“Totally. You’re not friends with her anymore?”

“Not really. I just didn’t know what to say to her after it happened.”

“So tragic.”

“So young.”

“So hot. But I heard he had an affair, did you?”

I couldn’t take any more. I paid for my beer, left without finishing it, and drove to Hannah’s. But when I pulled up in front of her house on the darkened street, all I could hear were my mother’s words in the shrill voices of the women at the bar.

I heard his car has been parked in front of her house for hours at night.

I’ve seen them getting ice cream together with her little girl.

I heard they went to his house while it was empty and had sex while the daughter played on the beach.

Ugh, it’s so sleazy.

So wrong.

So tacky.

How could they?

It was enough to make me think twice about knocking on her door. What if my mother was right?

My phone vibrated. My screen showed a text from Hannah. Are you sitting out there because you’re scared to ask me to dance?

I smiled for half a second. Yes.

I told you. I’ll always say yes. And I’m in the mood for dancing.

Her words set my blood simmering. Fuck my mother’s warning, I thought. Fuck those women in the bar, and fuck anyone who thought this was wrong. It had been a long time since I’d punched someone in the face. It would feel pretty damn good.

She was mine now. Mine.

Me too. Be right there.