17
J U D G M E N T
Unbutton my heart,
And kiss away the scars.
Unzip my mind,
And take me to the stars.
HOURS LATER, I FOUND MYSELF in my mother’s living room, wishing I’d taken Dean’s offer to help him with the grill.
We’d picked up enough food to feed everyone since Dad and Charlie were still camping. Dean thought making the Thurston’s famous steaks would be a wonderful way to stuff my mother’s hens so they’d go home earlier than normal, tired and full.
Judging by their critical glances, I doubted they’d be leaving any time soon.
The chatter started off cordial, no one prying or picking in my direction. After a while, I began to think maybe my mother had prepped them beforehand. She knew how I felt about being goaded about my choices in life. Maybe she’d finally heard me and asked them to respect my privacy. When Carol, my mother’s neighbor, cleared her throat and pinned her eyes on me, I realized how wrong I was.
“You really should find yourself a man, Andrea,” Carol said as she reached for the hole puncher. “Your mother says you’re still single. A boy like Charlie needs a father figure in his life. All children do.”
The statement of my life, I thought with an inward eye roll.
I couldn’t help but think of how she said it… as if there were a Mens-R-Us right around the corner. I could see it…Housebroken. Puts lid down on toilet. Takes out trash and is programmable to do dishes and laundry… all yours for the low price of your soul.
I looked to Mother, eyes wide as the other ladies in the room nodded and hummed their agreement while fiddling with paper and glue. She didn’t offer any reprieve. They were the ammunition in her gun.
That was the paradox of uptight, social-standing women from small towns—if only they held their scrutiny just as close to their chest as they did the bibles they thumped.
I reached for my glass of wine. Took a long sip before tending to the placemats Mother asked me to hem. Even the buzz thrumming in my veins from the alcohol wasn’t enough to dull the atmosphere. My vision was an unsettling array of stark reds, crisp whites, and boring blues. I tried to focus on that instead of what they were saying, because speaking out would only upset Mother.
“What about Charlie’s father? You can’t set aside your differences to make things work?” Betty, my mother’s oldest friend, asked, keeping her eyes trained on the banner she was stitching together. She was the head of the Baptist choir in town, and she’d never feared sharing her opinion.
I tried to take in a calming breath. We’d been working on Mother’s decorations for a little over forty minutes, the twangy beats of country music strumming in the background. That was as long as it took for the first to break the lid open and start in on me and why my life wasn’t good enough as it was.
I tried to force a smile, but it was hard to pretend. “Matt and I will never be a thing. He cheated enough to ensure that,” I said, making my voice as even as I could. I hated explaining myself. Equally loathed the judgment pulsing from their eyes.
“Men cheat, honey,” Laura said from the other side of my mother. She was as stiff as she was plump. “If we all tried to take a stand against that, none of us would ever find ourselves a man.”
I blinked at her, unable to process her words. “Not all men cheat,” I said, sure they must know that deep down.
The women in the room shared a secretive grin.
“Being unwed and with a child is a sin,” Betty kept on.
I dropped the placemat I was working on. Fixed my mouth into a firm line.
Mother looked up at me, and then rushed to say, “She knows this, Betty.”
Dean poked his head around the corner of the archway and cleared his throat for our attention. It felt like an arctic line was drawn down the middle of the room the moment they noticed him. Some of the women leaned into each other, whispering about the town’s bad boy, while a few of the younger ones sat a little straighter, looking a little more lively.
“Dean Thurston?” Carol said as she sat down the banner she was working on. The way she eyed him down made my stomach hurt for him. She’d always been vocal about her concern of his temperament when he was younger.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” he said, pulling off his baseball cap so he could nod a proper hello. He had to have felt the atmosphere shift, but he kept himself together like he always did. A stoic pillar of cool composure amongst the fiery stares.
“Everything okay, Dean?” Mother asked, the only one in the room unaffected by his presence.
“Yes, ma’am.” He hooked a grin that melted the ice in the room. “I just wanted to get a head count and see how everyone likes their steaks.”
Preferences were thrown out all at once, and I couldn’t help but laugh a little when Dean’s eyes grew wide from the overwhelming feedback.
“That Thurston bloodline sure knows how to breed them well,” I heard one of the women whisper to another beside me. “Temper or not… he’s still handsome.”
“If I could, I’d ship him off to my daughter. Lord knows you can’t find them like that anymore. The mold was broken when they made that boy.”
I coughed through a sip of wine, surprised at the sudden change of tone. One second, they were riding high on their horses about being unwed and with a child. The next, they were salivating to get their hands on Dean in hopes he’d populate the world with his devilish good looks.
“And you?” he said, looking directly at me. My mouth went dry at the intensity of his gaze, and I realized then he didn’t care how they wanted their steaks, but he couldn’t come and ask me if everything was okay if he didn’t have a good reason.
You are the flutter in my heart,
The gentle sigh on my lips;
You are the hand wrapped in my hair,
The taste of lust in my kiss.
“Medium rare,” I said, forcing myself to look away from him to keep from drowning in his gaze. Lit up on the inside, knowing that Dean would brave my mother’s friends just to check on me.
I prayed the lady next to me couldn’t hear the way my heart backfired as my nerves jumbled up, consuming my ability to think straight.
He watched me for a moment more before he nodded and wound his way through the room to the kitchen. The saying, I hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go popped into my head as I watched him until he rounded the corner, out of sight.
“Why can’t you find a man like that, Andy?” Betty badgered when she thought he was out of earshot.
“He’s too young,” Mother said, as if the idea was appalling. “Besides, Andy needs a respectful man who has a decent job and a good head on his shoulders. Not a boy.”
Dean popped his head around the corner again, and the women jumped.
I reveled in their embarrassment.
“I hate to interrupt you beautiful ladies again, but would you mind if I stole Andy for a moment?” He held his hands up. “These two hands aren’t enough to carry out everything I need.”
“Go on ahead, Andy,” Cindy encouraged from the other side of the room. She was the only one of my mother’s friends I’d ever liked. And I still couldn’t figure out why she hung around these types of women.
I felt the weight of my mother’s judging stare as I set my glass of wine down and made my way through the maze of women to reach the kitchen, but I didn’t bother to meet it.
As soon as I was around the corner, Dean pinned me against the wall, his knee sliding between my legs and his lips devouring mine. I melted the moment his tongue glided over my lips, matching his eagerness. His hands slid over the top of my dress, thumb grazing over the lace of my bra, coaxing my nipples to a peak.
“Dean,” I breathed out as soon as he pulled his lips from mine, my pulse beating wildly at the base of my throat. “What are you doing?”
His eyes were lecherous and feverish, and my heart skipped and jumped, trying to catch up.
“I missed you,” he declared, kissing the tip of my nose, my cheek, and my mouth again. Hands feeling like they were all over me. “I couldn’t go another second without tasting you.”
I placed my hand on his chest. Cast a furtive glance over my shoulder. Breathed him in, knowing I wouldn’t ever be able to break the addiction I had toward him. “Someone could walk in here and see us,” I whispered, the broiler inside me set to high.
He smiled a smile I knew only I’d ever seen. “Good. Let them see how much I want you. How much I need you.”
His lips were so close. Breath warm against my mouth. Eyes undressing the parts of me only he could see.
Take me, spank me, make me yours.
“I can’t stop thinking about my hand between your legs,” he whispered against my ear as his hand moved in between my thighs. “I want to touch you again. Taste you.”
He was desire, and I was his prisoner, chained up by his kisses. Submissive to his touch.
I should say no. We could get caught. It was crazy, and I was too old to succumb to my every fantasy, but when I looked into his eyes, I didn’t see that version of myself. I saw me… the Andy who so desperately needed to be wanted the way he wanted me.
And I was tired of fighting it.
I pushed him back, bit my lip, and then grabbed his hand. He followed as I pulled him toward the bathroom just around the corner of the kitchen. We barely got the door shut and locked before he became all hands and lips, pinning me against the counter. His hand slid down the curve of my thigh, taking my panties with it, and then he lifted my leg, propping my knee on the edge of the counter. I watched in the mirror as he rushed to unbutton his pants. As he slid his boxers down, put on a condom, and then moved up against me, his hardness sliding over the curve of my ass.
Never in a million years would I have thought I’d be in front of a mirror, watching myself about to be taken by someone as gorgeous as Dean, but there I was. He pulled the front of my dress down, exposing my breasts, and I forced myself to look at him. To not worry about what I looked like in the harsh lighting, because I wanted this moment to happen.
But I was only human.
I took my leg down. Turned to face him, eyes to the floor, as my insecurities crept in.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in between kisses.
“Nothing,” I forced out, running my hands over his biceps. I smiled and kissed him, moving to sit on the edge of the counter, my back to the mirror. It wasn’t that I didn’t like myself or how he looked at me… but it was different when I was staring myself in the face. I felt exposed. I didn’t want to see my leftover stretch marks and untended-to rolls pressed against someone as perfect and glorious as him.
He slowed when I kissed him. Pulled away and rested his forehead against mine. “You’re lying.” He nudged his nose over mine.
I stared at his mouth, trying to keep a lump from forming in my throat. “Dean… I’m… I’m older. My body… it’s been through a lot. And this mirror under this lighting…” I trailed off, ashamed I ruined the intensity because of my insecurities.
He lifted my chin until my eyes found his, which I could never get sick of looking into. “If you only knew how perfect you are, Andy.” The pad of his thumb smoothed over my lips, parting them until he could wet it with my tongue. “Your lips were destined for my kiss.”
He took my lips against his slowly. Gently. Taking his time to explore my mouth as he boxed me in, his scent dizzying my mind. “Let me show you how perfect you are.”
He bent, running his fingers over the swell of my breasts. Kissing the sides where stretch marks remained. And when he looked up at me, I saw it in his eyes. There was no judgment. No disgust.
Just pure, unadulterated need.
He slid my dress down further until my stomach was exposed. Pushed it up my thighs and then stepped back. “Open your legs for me,” he said. When I did, he licked his lips as he took me in. As he grew harder in front of me.
My toes curled and my mind went fuzzy as my earlier worries vanished with every blink of his hungry eyes.
When he returned, he pressed his length to my entrance, teasing in slow circles. “You’re so ridiculously beautiful, Andy.”
I closed my eyes as tremors of pleasure attacked me. My breathing became harder and harder to control.
“Never have I ever wanted anyone the way I want you,” he continued, his words a spell casted over me. I gripped the edge of the counter as his other hand massaged my bud. Little by little, I forgot about the mirror. About my insecurities. He must have sensed this, because he pulled me off the counter and spun me, continuing to rub me while he watched my face in the mirror.
I rested the back of my head on his shoulder as intense need took over rational thought.
When he entered me, I bit my lip to keep from moaning. His hand found the curve of my throat, the sensitive flesh responding to his touch in ripples of shivers. He was gentle at first, moving in and out as he brought me closer and closer, but I didn’t want him to be gentle. I wanted to feel every inch of my body being taken by his.
I backed my ass against him and leaned forward.
His guttural groan told me this was exactly what he wanted. His hand moved under my dress, palm pressed flat against my spine, and then he slammed into me. One hard thrust turned into another, and another, until he moved harder and faster.
I lost it. His hands found my hips as he plunged into me, over and over. My entire body felt like a live wire as he neared the edge. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and lightly pulled, exposing my throat in the mirror.
I saw myself then.
“Look at how fucking gorgeous you are, Andy,” he said, the pleasured look on his face sending shock waves throughout me.
I could see it when he said this. The swollen look to my lips from his rough kisses. My eyes stormy and hooded in lust. I looked wild. Young. Sexy.
He smiled when I traced my fingers over my mouth. When a new wave of excitement crashed over me as I watched my body being taken by his. The way his hands cupped my breasts. The way he kept cursing and looking away from my body every few seconds to keep from spilling too soon. Every painfully delicious second was building, growing.
“Fuck, Andy,” he said as I came again, so wound up from the heat between us.
I felt him go just as I came up for air. He collapsed against my back, one hand wrapped tight around my stomach, holding me close. Our chests heaved in and out in mismatched beats.
“I’ll never get enough,” I managed to gasp as he planted soft kisses along the back of my neck.
He wore the most adorably silly grin. “Me either.”
The way he could get beneath my surface and actually see me was in some ways more intimate than what we just did. Most spent a lifetime looking for one person who could see all the way to their soul and love them more for it.
Or… they could have known them their whole life.
He pulled out. “I don’t know how I’ve managed this long without you, Andy.”
I felt the same way.
I turned the sink on so we could rinse off before sliding my panties back on. Fixed my hair enough so it didn’t scream I just had hot, wild sex with Dean Thurston in the bathroom.
When he finished, he turned to the towel and dried his hands. His eyes found mine, and I caught my breath.
Galaxies exist within your pupils.
“Did you mean what you said?” I asked, fiddling with the end of my dress.
His eyes never left mine as he said, “Every fucking word.”
AFTER I HELPED DEAN CARRY everything to the grill, I headed inside and squeezed into my seat, hoping my skin had cooled enough to appear untouched. I couldn’t get him out of my head. Couldn’t erase his kiss and his smile, and all the pretty words he fed me. I was falling for him in a way I’d never recover from. It was like swimming into an underwater cave, knowing there was a chance I might never come up for air again.
“Were you able to help him, dear?” Carol asked without looking up at me.
I blushed. Cleared my throat. “Yes. Dinner should be ready soon.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m famished,” Cindy said as she eyed my mother down. “Every time I get an invite out here, I’m always put to work.”
Mother pursed her lips. She was still staring at me. Hadn’t stopped since I sauntered back into the room.
We made quick work of finishing everything Mother had laid out and found ourselves piled around the large picnic table outside, bellies full and yawns stretching. Butterflies fluttered around us in slow, languid beats, drunk on the heated afternoon air as the sun bathed the woods in a sheen of gold.
“I think that was the best steak I ever ate,” Betty declared, taking bits of the fat and feeding them to Kevin, the Dachshund she never left home without. He playfully pounced around the meat before diving in, his chestnut fur catching glints of shimmer from the sun.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Dean said, rubbing his stomach as he leaned back in a stretch.
I got up from the table and started picking up plates, helping Mother as she carried them in. “I could have gotten these,” she said over her shoulder as I followed her to the sink.
“It isn’t a problem, Mother.” I set my dishes on top of hers.
She looked me up and down. “I’m sure. A little romance is enough to make anyone feel useful.”
I was caught off guard by her remark. “What?”
She straightened the strap of my dress, which had fallen off my shoulder. “You think I don’t know what goes on in my house?”
A million awful theories came to life inside my mind. I looked past her. Was this place rigged with cameras? Was she psychic? Had we not been as quiet as I thought?
“I see the way you two look at each other. The secret smiles. The palpable tension. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist, Andy,” she said when she realized I’d gone off the deep end with my musings.
“Mother—”
She held her hand up. “Lying is unbecoming and, frankly, you’ve never been good at it.”
I closed my mouth.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but you should end it before someone gets hurt.”
My forehead creased. Defensiveness took over. “Why would someone get hurt?”
“Andy, he isn’t right for you.”
I tossed my hands up in frustration. “Why? Because he doesn’t have some big fancy job?” I retorted, feeling a flush build behind my cheeks. “You know what? I’m glad you know. This whole time I was so worried about what everyone would think. What you would think. And guess what… I don’t care. He makes me happy, Mother. Maybe you forgot what that feels like, and so had I, but not anymore, and I’m not going to just give it up over something as frivolous as money. Money was always your worry… not mine.”
Her eyes were hard, mouth parting as my phone vibrated on the counter. I turned away from her and grabbed it, a rock sinking in my stomach. “Thirty-one missed calls from Matt,” I said as a cold sweat lined my forehead.
She moved behind me and glanced over my shoulder. I scrolled and scrolled, text message after text message from him crowding the screen. Messages like:
Where the hell are you?
Why aren’t you answering me?
This is another bitch move on your part, isn’t it?
You’re going to regret this, whore.
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Please answer.
Andy?
I should have never fucked you. Knew you’d turn out to be a dumb bitch.
“Andy,” Mother said on a sharp intake of air. She took the phone away from me. “Do not respond to these. I’m going… I’m going to screenshot them at once and send them to your father’s colleague.”
I took my phone back from her. “No, Mother. I’m not going to do that.” I huffed. “He just… he gets like this sometimes when I don’t answer him quickly enough. I can handle it.”
“Bullshit,” she said, the word firing from her mouth like a bullet.
I jumped, and then twisted my head in her direction. In all my thirty years, I’d never once heard my mother curse.
Her finger wagged in my face, a hand planted on her hip as she moved in like a general dishing out an order. “Now you listen to me, Andrea Rose Hale. I know we don’t see eye to eye on, well, just about everything, but I will be damned if I sit back and watch your stubbornness put you and my grandson in harm’s way. You might not think much of me as a mother, and you might not think I don’t know anything when it comes to relationships, but your father and I talk, and I know what’s going on with you and Matt. This… this sort of behavior and the profane language in his messages… this is not the role model Charlie needs. This is not… it isn’t safe, Andy.”
Her face was flustered by the time she finished, eyes glazing over.
I rubbed at my temples. The phone vibrated in my hand again. She looked up at me. At that moment, maybe for the first time, I saw a mother looking at her daughter. Not at a disappointment, but at a human.
She pulled it from my hand and pressed it to her ear. The moment she did, she straightened her shoulders and stuck her chin out, her strength pumping into her words. “Hello?” A pause. “This is Andrea’s mother. May I ask who’s calling?” Another pause. A slight crease to her forehead. “I’m sorry. Andrea can’t come to the phone right now. While I have you, I’d like to ask something of you.” She waited a beat. “Yes. Could you please refrain from contacting my daughter from this point on in matters that aren’t concerning Charlie? What Andrea does with her life is her business. The court has given their ruling, and the time you’ve been granted needs to be respected. On both parts.”
Her mouth opened to continue, but Matt was quicker. His voice was raised loud enough I could hear it. Her eyes widened when he shouted, “Who the fuck do you think you are? Some old, washed-up hag trying to tell me what I need to do? Andy is the mother of my son, and that gives me free rein to do as I please.”
If Mother was fazed, she hid it well. “I’m going to hang up now.”
His voice, still shrill with anger, bordered on the edge of hysteria when he replied, “Good. Before you do, though, do me a favor. Tell Andy to sleep tight…”
The call ended on the notes of his sinister laughter.
Mother’s hands were shaking when she handed the phone back to me. I pulled her into a hug, holding her up as her entire body trembled. “Do you see now, Mother? Do you understand why I could never make it work? Why I chose to raise Charlie on my own?”
I watched the understanding take shape in her eyes as she nodded. “He’s not ever to be around Charlie, Andy. Promise me you’ll do everything you can to keep that man away from you both.”
I nodded, trying not to let any of the tears burning in my throat fall.
She sucked in a deep breath of air. Pulled herself together as she stepped back. “Your father will be home in a couple of days. We will have these messages printed and placed in your file. Okay?”
For once, I let her lead. “Okay, Mom. Whatever you say.”
“As far as Dean is concerned, just, please… be careful.” She brushed her hand over my cheek. “Affairs of the heart, especially with two sensitive souls, are tricky to get right.” She squeezed my hand, forcing a smile, and then fixed her hair. “Now, help me with the rest of these dishes. The sooner we can send the hens home, the better.”
I looked at her through new eyes as I followed her outside, pausing near the bed of flowers Kevin had his lengthy nose buried in. His little paws were digging and pawing at something, so I crouched down to pet him, moving aside the cluster of pink and purple flowers to see what he was messing with. Suspended from some of the small branches, deep inside the foliage, were a couple of orange-patterned chrysalides.
“You can’t eat those, silly puppy,” I said as I rubbed behind Kevin’s ears and lifted him up. “Come with me. I’ll find you some scraps.”
Dean was in deep conversation with a few of the women. If set loose in a room full of people, he’d come out knowing the backstories to at least half. He had a way of relating to individuals and groups alike. He was a good listener… a trait as rare as they came.
And he was mine.
All this time I’d been looking for guidance, looking for a ray of hope, and then he kissed me. He saw me. The real me. Not the mom. Not the woman who worked relentlessly night after night. He saw me, as I was in that moment. Not a fragment of who the world tried to make me out to be, but who I actually was, darkness and all.
And he liked it.
He didn’t question my deepest thoughts. Didn’t argue my strengths.
I wouldn’t let him go. I couldn’t.