At Peace (34 page)

I ignored the dog’s invitation to join her on
Mike’s bed and Mike told me there was walk-in closet and showed me
the master bath with double basin, separate bath and shower. The
bath was bigger than most, oval, sitting in a platform with a step
up. The bathroom was enough for me to buy this house. It was
awesome, a woman’s dream.

He led me out and I was feeling weird about
taking a tour of his bedroom. I hadn’t been on a second date since
I was in high school but I was thinking this was unusual.

I felt so weird, I didn’t think before I
remarked, “That’s quite a bed.”

“Audrey paid six thousand dollars for that
bed,” Mike replied.

I stopped dead and stared up at him.

“What?”

“
Yep, six thousand fuckin’ dollars. She
loved that bed. Won’t say much for me, honey, but, seein’ as I
actually paid for it and I knew she loved it and no way we could
sell it and make that cake back, I made certain I got it in the
divorce. Our divorce wasn’t pretty, she fought me on everything,
had no ground to stand on, lost huge,” he smiled, “lost her fuckin’
bed.”

Since he did pay for it and he should get it
and it was a great bed, I smiled back at him.

“Anyway, Clarisse and I got a thing, Scary
Movie Friday Night. She’s with me on a Friday, we watch horror
movies, bowls of popcorn, tubs of ice cream.” His head tipped to
the wall where there was a flat screen TV installed. “Jonas even
stoops to join us every once in awhile. Bed’s perfect for Scary
Movie Friday Night.”

I thought of Mike with his unknown daughter
having a Scary Movie Friday Night, a twelve year old girl watching
horror flicks, cuddled up to her big, tall, strong, handsome Dad
and I didn’t have a belly flutter. My eyes filled with tears and I
looked away.

“Hey,” Mike called.

I took a sip of wine and stared at the
wall.

His hand came to my jaw and he repeated,
“Hey,” as he forced me to look at him.

“Can I use your bathroom?” I asked, staring
at his nose.

“You can, you look at me and tell me why you
got tears in your eyes.”

I blinked back the tears, swallowed then
looked at him and whispered, “Sorry.”

“About what?”

“
It doesn’t happen much anymore, but when
it does it throws me, always,” I shut my eyes tight, then opened
them and repeated, “always.”

His hand with his wine glass curled around to
the small of my back, pulling me closer, and he asked softly, “What
doesn’t happen much anymore?”

I shook my head, putting my free hand on his
shoulder, my hand with the glass to his waist. He didn’t seem at
all hesitant about sharing about his kids, his ex, and being
totally honest about it.

I didn’t find it that easy.

But since he gave it to me, I figured I
should give it back and when I figured that, I was reminded of Joe
telling me about the scales.

Balancing them out.

Shit, Joe was too wise for my good and it
pissed me off when he was right.

“
Just that…” I trailed off, not knowing how
to explain it, “getting reminded of things. You know, like my
girls’ll never cuddle up to their Dad again, watch a
movie.”

His face changed, grew gentle, his hand
tensed at my jaw and he whispered, “Sweetheart.”

I shook my head again. “It’s okay, it’s cool.
Sorry. It isn’t cool, just that I should say, it’s good that you
have that with Clarisse.”

“
Yeah,” he replied, his eyes never leaving
mine, “’cept, next time, it’ll mean a helluva lot more than
normal.”

I bit my lip thinking I was standing mostly
in the arms of a really good guy.

Mike read that I needed a subject change
pronto and asked, “You wanna see why I bought this place?”

“Sure.”

He let me go, took my hand and led me to the
French doors and out onto the white-painted, wooden balcony.

There were a couple of Adirondack chairs
there, also painted white, no pads. His yard below had a high fence
all around to shield his business from the neighbors.

But I knew why he brought me to his bedroom
when I saw, beyond his fenced yard, there was also a view of
straight, flat cornfield, the corn growing, knee height now. Beyond
that were some dense woods. Smack in the middle of it, there was a
yellow farmhouse with white woodwork, a wraparound porch and a red
barn with green lawn all around, some graveled drives, a white
gazebo with wisteria growing from it, a grape arbor heavy with
vines.

Something about the view stunned me. I’d seen
many farmhouses but this one, from our elevated view, seemed
picture perfect. There was intricate, lacy woodwork in the corners
of the posts holding up the porch roof; the lawn looked like mine,
green and healthy; and the pristine rows filled with the wide
leaves of the growing corn, both spiky and bowed, all of it
exquisitely cared for and cultivated showed these farmers loved
their home, their farm, the pride went deep and it was amazing to
behold.

Not a lot of people would think this was
picturesque or at least not beautiful. It wasn’t a beach or a view
of the mountains but I thought it was gorgeous. I could totally see
buying this house if I could sit in an Adirondack chair, drink wine
and stare at that view.

“
Grew up in this ‘burg and my high school
girlfriend grew up on that farm,” Mike told me and I looked up at
him to see his eyes on the farmhouse. “She got married to some guy
she met at Notre Dame, moved to DC. Her brother runs that farm
now.” He looked down at me. “I always loved that farm.”

“Did you wanna be a farmer?” I asked.

“
Fuck no,” he grinned, “still, liked her
farm. Her folks were great too. And she had this sister…” he
stopped talking and I waited for him to say more. His face had
grown thoughtful in a faraway way and since he didn’t seem to mind
sharing, and he wasn’t sharing, I figured he didn’t want to so I
changed the subject.

“How’d you meet Audrey?” I asked, leaning
against the railing and he came back to the conversation and leaned
with me.

“Blind date.”

“Really?”

“
Yeah,” he grinned again, “friend of mine
was dating a friend of hers. Thought we’d get on.”

“Obviously, you did.”

He didn’t answer, he looked out to the
farmhouse again, taking a sip of his wine, his face grew pensive
again and I thought I read what this meant.

“You really liked her,” I said softly, not
wanting to push.

Mike’s eyes came to me. “Audrey?”

“No, your high school girlfriend.”

He burst out laughing.

“What?” I asked when he was mostly done
laughing.

“
Debbie was sweet, but she was career
minded. Hated livin’ here, couldn’t wait to get out, doesn’t come
back often. She didn’t want kids, wanted to be a lawyer and she
became one. Her brother tells me she’s a shark. Makes a mint, works
eighty hour weeks, lives and breathes her work. Saw her at
Christmas a few years ago, she was with her Mom in the grocery
store and she had her Blackberry in her hand, e-mailin’ people
while she was at home for the holidays, out with her Mom, buyin’
egg nog. Seriously, sweetheart, that is not my thing.”

“And Audrey was your thing?”

The humor moved out of his face and he said,
“You don’t wanna know about that shit.”

“I do, unless you don’t want to tell me.”

“Violet –”

“Mike, honey, I just nearly burst into tears
in your bedroom. You can feel free to tell me about your
ex-wife.”

He smiled, took another sip of wine, then
slid an arm around my waist, inching me closer and when he had me
where he wanted me, he left his arm there.

“I won’t lie, lookin’ back, she gave me
signals, lots of ‘em. But she could be funny, fuckin’ hell, she
could be funny. Never laughed so hard as I did with Audrey in the
beginning, thought that’d be my life, laughter. She was gorgeous
and she made me laugh and I kept my focus on that and ignored the
signals. It started six months in, after we got back from our
honeymoon, which, by the way, she demanded was at an all-inclusive
that cost a fuckin’ fortune. I was twenty-four, my parents had to
help me pay for it.”

He paused to allow me to let this information
sink in, I nodded for him to continue and he did.

“We’d moved into our apartment but she wanted
another one, bigger, more exclusive in a development with a pool. I
couldn’t afford it but I loved her, so the minute the lease ran
out, I moved her into her new apartment. Two months later, she
found a house she wanted to buy and it kept goin’ from there. She
never hid it from me, I just wanted to think eventually she’d have
what she needed or she’d be happy with what she had or, at least,
she’d be happy just to have me. She never was.”

I placed my hand on his chest thinking Audrey
Haines was all kinds of fool, his arm gave me a squeeze and he went
on talking.

“
I should have ended it before we got down
to kids but, if I did,” he shrugged
, “I wouldn’t have my kids.”

“Worth it then,” I murmured.

“Definitely,” he smiled.

Layla, done with giving her hint that camping
out on the bed meant we should join her there, came out and started
to head butt our legs.

“I should start cooking,” Mike said, letting
me go to pet his dog who, remembering he existed, appeared in
throes of ecstasy to have his big, strong hand scratching behind
her ears.

“Can I help?” I asked and he stayed bent to
Layla but twisted his torso to look up at me.

“You always cook for your girls?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“Then no.”

There it went, the belly flutter again.

“You always cook when your kids are here?” I
asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll help.”

He gave Layla a playful push and came to me,
his hand curling at my neck, pulling my upper body close to his as
his neck bent so his face could get close to mine.

When he was close, he whispered, “I like you,
Violet.”

“I like you too, Mike,” I whispered back.

He grinned, touched his forehead to mine a
second then touched his lips to mine a second then he said, “Let’s
go cook.”

* * * * *

Being a good Dad, Mike knew how to cook. The
au gratin potatoes were already cooking in the oven and he made
London broil and green beans and he had fresh bakery rolls to go
with.

We ate at his kitchen table with Layla lying
mostly on Mike’s feet then we did the dishes together. After the
dishes, Mike made ice cream sundaes with lashings of caramel and
chocolate syrup on gourmet vanilla bean ice cream, whipped cream on
top, sprinkled with pralines. I took note of this since they were
simple but absolutely delicious. My girls would love them.

We ate these on the couch with Layla sitting
by my side, her head on the seat by me, staring at me while
blinking, telling me she needed ice cream or she’d die.

Mike noticed and called her off. She gave
in with an irritable groan and lay down by my feet.

Conversation through dinner and dessert
wasn’t heavy, we didn’t share life stories and I didn’t tear up
again. We talked (mostly about our kids), we laughed (mostly about
our kids) and he proved again he was easygoing and easy to be
around.

Then he took my bowl, ordering me to fill up
our wine glasses and he left the room. I did as he ordered and was
taking a sip when he got back. He sat down beside me, took my glass
out of my hand, set it on the coffee table, put his hands to my
pits, dragged my ass across his lap and over then I was on my back
and he was on top of me.

Then we were making out on his couch.

I wasn’t certain how I managed to get
myself into these situations, fucking Joe on his couch that
morning, making out with Mike on his that evening. But I was
certain I wasn’t doing a lot to avoid them. I figured, partially,
it was because both, in their own way, were pretty freaking
magnificent. The other part was that I liked being with both men. I
liked it in entirely different ways, but I still liked
it.

His mouth moved from mine and his face
disappeared into my neck. I felt his tongue trail from the back of
my ear down the line of my neck where he stopped and while I
shivered, he asked, “Where’re your girls tonight?”

“At home, hopefully not throwing a wild party
with boys and kegs.”

His head came up and he was grinning when he
looked at me. “That something they would do?”

“Kate, no, Keira, yes, once she figures out
kegs exist. Kate would be running through the house trying to get
people out or cleaning up and fretting the whole time that someone
would break a glass or knock over the TV. Keira would be in the
kitchen, not a care in the world, shot gunning beers.”

He was still grinning when he asked,
“Yeah?”

I grinned back and shook my head. “No,
they’re both good kids. They’re probably watching a movie while
Kate texts Dane, who’s out with his friends tonight, and Keira
texts everyone in three counties. But I know Keira, there’ll come a
day when my house will look like the day after in a 80’s Brat Pack
movie.”

“
Weird
Science,
” he said on a
smile.

“
Sixteen
Candles,
” I one-upped
him.

“You need to get home?” he asked and I looked
at the clock on his shelves.

It was eight thirty. I didn’t need to get
home and, even though it made me a terrible person, being on the
couch with Mike who I liked too much in a way that was so confusing
I couldn’t unravel it in a million years, I wanted to be home late,
just in case Joe was watching for me.

“No,” I replied when I looked back at
him.