THIRTEEN

Mia

I love this time of day.

It’s early enough that the light from sun is just peeking through the treetops. Narrow beams filter through and hit the smooth surface of the lake, evaporating the fine fog rising up from the water. Some rustling a little further along the shore catches my attention, but it’s just Griffin, who’s poking out from the underbrush, out on his morning explorations.

I was a little disoriented when I woke up, and a lot surprised that I’d so easily fallen asleep again. That kiss. A touch, once so casual, so commonplace, had felt preciously intimate and completely revealing. The mechanics of it instinctual, despite the length of time I’d been without, yet the rush of need it evoked felt unfamiliar. There had been no thought to whether I should or shouldn’t, in fact, I’m pretty sure my mind was a complete blank. I don’t know where it would’ve ended, if not for Jared pulling back. I certainly had no sense of self-preservation in that moment. When he walked me to my bed, part of me expected him to crawl in with me. I don’t think I would’ve stopped him. But he didn’t, and this morning I can’t help feeling grateful for that. It didn’t feel like a rejection when he tucked me in, kissed me gently, and walked out of the room. It felt more like a promise.

The house had still been silent when I snuck outside behind Griffin, wrapped against the morning chill in the quilt off the bed. The sound of the sliding door opening behind me had me shoot a glance over my shoulder.

“Morning,” Jared says from the doorway, dressed in shorts and a wrinkled shirt. It takes him a second to navigate closing the door behind him with two mugs in his hands, before he walks up to me, handing me one. “Milk and a little sugar, right?” I accept the coffee with a smile, taking a sip right away.

“Morning,” I finally reply, earning a smile back as he sits down in the chair beside me. “Just what I needed.”

The sound of paws on the deck announces Griffin’s return. He ignores me and goes straight for Jared, shoving his big head under his hand for attention.

“Hold on, buddy,” he says, putting his mug safely under his chair before giving the dog a sturdy two-handed rubdown. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” I answer immediately. “Really good, actually.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am, a little,” I admit. “I didn’t hear the baby once. He must’ve slept a good stretch. I should probably go in and check.” I move to get up, but Jared stops me with a hand on my arm.

“They’re fine. He woke up ten minutes ago, I changed him and Jordy’s feeding him now.”

“Oh, okay,” I mumble, sitting back down, trying hard to ignore the goosebumps rising on my skin from the feel of his touch. It feels nice. Even nicer when he doesn’t let go, instead slides his hand down and casually tangles his fingers with mine. I glance at him from the corner of my eye, to find him staring out over the lake.

We sit like that for a while, sipping coffee and silently enjoying the lake coming to life. I’m reluctant to admit that the view from his dock is better than from my porch, and watching the sun come up together is infinitely more enjoyable than doing it alone. Even if neither of us says a word.

Just as my reservations start resurfacing about the wisdom of what is happening here, he gives my hand a squeeze before letting go.

“Another one?” he asks, getting up and indicating my now empty mug. He catches my quick glimpse at the house. “I’ll check on them.”

“Okay, then sure.” I smile up at him, expecting him to head inside. Instead he stays put, looking down at me. “You look beautiful,” he says in a low voice that has my muscles instantly turn to Jell-O. Before I can react, he puts his free hand on my armrest and leans down, pressing his mouth to mine. He opens enough to pull my bottom lip between his, stroking it lightly with his tongue before letting go.

Oh my. I’m sure my mouth is hanging open as he turns and heads inside. It isn’t until I hear the door slide shut that sanity returns, and with it a panicked reach for my hair, which as usual, has matted into my customary morning bird’s nest. Shit.

For someone who has gotten by the past years by carefully guarding herself and controlling her environment, I sure seem content to go with the flow; Jared’s flow.

-

“I want to take a quick shower,” Jordy says, swinging her legs out of bed. “I’m rank.” Her nose curls up as she sniffs her nightshirt. “Nothing like the combination of sweat and sour baby milk.”

“Go,” I urge her with a wave of my hand. “And use the handheld to spray directly on your breasts, alternating hot and cold.”

Jared had insisted on cooking breakfast, and I’d gone to check on his sister, finding her snuggling with Ole, but awake, clearly a lot better. Although still too warm, she no longer had chills and her eyes were a lot clearer.

The little one is cuddled up contently against my shoulder. I can just make out his downy cheek and softly pursed little mouth. Every so often, his suckling instinct will surface and I can hear the soft smacks as his tongue presses against his palate. I love that sound, just like I love hearing the little sighs and groans as he stretches and settles again. I become aware of a feeling I recognize from a long time ago as I carefully put Ole down in his crib, instantly missing his warm little body against me.

Longing.

There’d been a time when Blair and I had talked about having children. After 9/11 we actually started trying, having both come to the harsh conclusion that life was too short to wait for perfect moments. It had become all too obvious that for some that perfect moment might never come. I’d had one miscarriage early in the pregnancy, something that took a while to recover from, emotionally. Rationally, I knew that quite often miscarriages occur because for one reason or another, the baby is simply not viable. But working with pregnancy and childbirth, being constantly exposed to it, there were times I felt resentment. Especially since I didn’t succeed in getting pregnant again. Not before things started going south.

Here I am, forty-two years old, and by most standards, too old to even contemplate the possibility, but still feeling the longing for something I won’t ever have.

“Pancakes!” Jared yells from the kitchen, and with a quick peek to make sure Ole is still sleeping, I walk out, leaving his door open a crack.

“Jordy should be out of the shower shortly,” I tell him, sitting down at the kitchen island. He turns around from the stove with a plate in his hand, setting it down in front of me.

“Good,” he says, leaning over and surprising me with a swipe of his thumb along my lips. “She was starting to smell,” he adds with a chuckle, completely oblivious to the fact he just scrambled my brain again with that simple touch.

“I heard that!” Jordy bites off, sliding into the seat beside me.

I hadn’t even heard her come in. I give her a quick smile, trying to gauge if she’d witnessed her brother’s intimate little touch, but she gives no indication.

“It was bad,” Jared pokes back. “I was afraid you were going to spoil my appetite.” He teasingly pulls a strand of her hair as he sets a plate in front of her, too. She grimaces at the sight of a short stack of blueberry pancakes on her plate.

“Not sure I can handle this,” she protests.

“Nonsense,” he states. “You haven’t eaten since Saturday.”

I sit and take it all in, both entertained by and slightly in awe of the easy way these two interact. I was an only child. A surprise for my parents who, already in their late thirties, had given up hope of having children. Despite the fact I sometimes wished for a sibling, I had a wonderful childhood. They loved me to bits and I was devastated when they passed away within a year of each other, eight years ago. Mom went first from a massive stroke and Dad simply didn’t wake up one morning, eight months after that. I’d been in rough shape then, and although I managed to struggle through my mother’s funeral, having my father by my side, I couldn’t make it through his.

Steffie had been with me, since Blair was working on a project in Beijing at the time. He wasn’t able to make it back. The anxiety had been high before we even left the house, but it became unbearable when I saw only a handful of people gathered at the brief service at the funeral home. The thought I had no family left, no blood ties to another human being, was too much for my already overwhelmed emotions.

“Hey...” Jared’s voice cuts through the painful memories, and I’m mortified to feel a tear trickling down my cheek. He cups my chin in his big hand and with the fingers of the other, wipes under my eye. I force a smile on my lips.

“I’m good,” I lie through my teeth. “I’m starved, actually.” I gently push away his hands and grab my fork, pick up a bite, and shove it in my mouth. “It’s good.” I nod encouragingly and give a worried-looking Jordy what I hope is a reassuring smile.

“It’s really good.”

Jared

Not sure what happened over breakfast. One moment Mia was smiling at the banter between Jordy and me, and the next she is somewhere else, her eyes unseeing. For a minute there, I thought she was maybe having an anxiety attack, but when I touched her face and her eyes focused on me, all I could see was intense sadness.

She tried to brush it off, and I chose not to push it at that time, but I will try to get it out of her. She looked actually relieved when Ole announced he was hungry. Urging Jordy to finish eating, she was on her feet and off to the nursery in a flash.

Both women are now holed up in Jordy’s bedroom with the baby. With the kitchen clean again, I head to my office to call Brian. He didn’t have a chance to go into detail when he was here, but had urged me to call him first thing Monday morning about some interesting prospects he wanted to discuss.

“Morning,” I greet him when he picks up.

“So what are the chances of you flying to Miami with me, first thing tomorrow morning?” He gets to the point.

“Depends,” I tell him. “What’s in Miami?”

“Curt Forbes resigned on Friday, listing family reasons. It’ll be announced on Wednesday.”

“Assistant coach for the Panthers? No shit?” A little twitch of excitement has me shift in my chair. “They looking?”

“Management called me Saturday morning, when I was driving up there. They’re looking alright. Wanted to know if you were in the market.”

“How’d they know? I mean, I’ve only just received the final verdict on my career,” I grumble, saying that out loud still smarts.

“That’s why you pay me the big bucks. Been putting discrete feelers out here and there, just in case,” he says, sounding smug. “They’ve got you on the short list and are looking to get the lay of the land from all their options before the announcement on Wednesday.”

“What do you think?” I ask him, trusting his advice above anyone else’s. He’s been my agent for the past ten years or so, give or take, and has never steered me wrong.

“I think you should drive down tonight, crash at mine, and get on the 4:30 a.m. flight to Miami with me tomorrow. We’ll see what plays out. Look,” he adds. “Like I’ve said before, the only good decision is an informed one. I know your circumstances have changed with Jordy and the baby, and Miami would not be your first choice, but if anything, a meeting like this might be educational.”

“About Jordy, she’s hit a bit of a rough spot, health wise,” I inform him. “I’m gonna have to see what I can do to have her covered while I’m gone.”

“I’m sure Sandy would love nothing better than to get her hands on that baby,” he offers his wife’s services, making me chuckle.

“I’m sure, but I may be able to organize something locally. Mia, my neighbour, has been helping out a lot. Let me check with her first.”

“Sounds good. I’ll book the flight, you talk to...Mia?” he confirms, but I can hear the curiosity in his tone.

“Later,” I cut him off, knowing he’ll grill me later anyway. I can still hear him chuckle as I end the call.

Christ.

The Panthers—I’m not sure how I feel about Miami. Actually, that’s not true, Miami is probably the last place I’d want to settle, but damn it feels good to be wanted anywhere.

I take a few minutes to try and settle the churning in my stomach, before I go find the girls. By the time I walk into her bedroom, Jordy is curled up on her side, fast asleep. The soft mumble of Mia’s voice comes from the monitor on her bedside table, and I turn toward the nursery.

“Hey,” I inadvertently repeat the last word I said to her. She’s bent over Ole’s crib, her head turned to watch me come up behind her.

“He just settled down,” she says, as I peek over her shoulder to find my nephew sleeping with his mouth open.

“Looks like he’s out for the count,” I observe, taking a step back when she straightens up.

I follow her out of the nursery and into the living room, where she stops in front of the sliding doors, staring at her own place.

“I should get home.”

“Stay,” I whisper, brushing my hand along the side of her neck and down her shoulder. I’m close enough to feel the warmth of her body against my front. Ignoring the slight stiffening of her spine, I lean my chin on her shoulder. “Stay and talk to me.” A shudder runs down her body before she turns around to face me, putting one hand in the middle of my chest. I immediately cover it with mine.

“I don’t know if I can.” Her voice is soft and torn.

“Try.”

Taking her hand, I lead her to the couch and with a gentle tug, pull her down beside me, never letting go.

“I was remembering my parents.” Her eyes are focused on our hands, where my thumb softly strokes her skin. Her words, suggesting she no longer has them, slice me. Noticing she’s gone silent, perhaps struggling with her emotions, I decide to share as well.

“Our parents died in a traffic accident,” I start, feeling her hand twitch in mine. “They were driving down to see friends in Rochester, when they were sideswiped by a tractor-trailer.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, briefly lifting her eyes brimming with tears. “Mom died of a massive stroke and Dad was gone eight months later,” she explains. I tuck a stray curl behind her ear and almost imperceptibly she leans her head into my touch.

“You miss them,” I conclude and she nods.

“Every day.”

“The other day I was thinking...” I lean back in the couch, bringing her with me so she’s resting again my chest. “Other than the initial shock of not having them around, I never felt their loss quite as sharply as I do now. They would’ve doted on Ole.”

“Be hard not to,” she mumbles, her fingers toying with the buttons on my shirt. “He’s adorable.”

I want to ask her more. Want to know what happened to her, why she’s practically shut herself off from the world, but I figure it’s been emotional enough for today. I sit like that for a while, my arms keeping her anchored, each lost in our own memories, but with the comfort of the other’s touch. I could stay like that all day, but eventually the need to get my life sorted takes over my thoughts.

“I have a favour to ask.” Her head comes up and she looks at me questioningly. “I talked to my agent this morning; I need to head into town tonight. We have to fly to Miami tomorrow morning for a meeting. I was hoping you might be able to stay here...with Jordy, while I’m gone.” I watch the surprise on her face and quickly add, “I wouldn’t ask, or even go, if it wasn’t important.”

“Okay,” she agrees easily, before tilting her head to one side. “You have an agent? I mean...Steffie mentioned you used to be a hockey player...” she mutters, a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry I didn’t know who you were.” I bark out a laugh.

“I’m sorry,” I immediately apologize when I see her wince, cupping her face in my hands. “I actually love that you don’t. I’ll admit, I’m so used to it, I kind of assume everybody does. It’s refreshing,” I reassure her with a smile, before setting her back and pulling the leg of my shorts up, to show her the surgical scars on my knee. “My career officially ended a few weeks ago when I found out my knee won’t hold up. Brian, that’s my agent, is helping me figure out what to do next.”

“That’s why you’re going to Miami?” She wants to know.

“Yeah,” I say hesitantly. “I don’t want to leave, especially with Jordy not one-hundred-percent, but I feel better about it with you here. I can tell you more about Miami when I get back.”

“It’s not a hardship,” she smiles. “I’m happy to stay.”

“Good,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Because it won’t be a hardship for me to come home to you.” I watch her face flush, thinking how true that statement is.

Coming home to Mia in my house will not be a hardship at all.

However, it does make Miami even less attractive.