Mid Life Love (18 page)

“That trail was amazing.” She panted. “I need to
rest for a minute.”

I sat down next to her, watching beads of sweat
trickle down her chest. It always amazed me how good she looked in
everything
.
She was dressed in gray sweats and a light purple tank top, but she still
looked stunning.

“Can I ask you something?” She looked over at me.

“Of course you can.”

“Are you sure?” She lowered her voice. “It’s a
really
personal question...”

“Are you mocking me? Ask me anything you want.”

“Why did you feel the need to change your bio about
your past for the company handbook?”

Whoa...Didn’t see that one coming...

“It’s complicated.” I didn’t want to talk about it.

She nodded and looked off into the distance, at the
birds that were now landing in droves around the lake; at the small group of
kids who were attempting to build castles with wet mud.

She leaned back and began stretching her muscles,
holding her arms over her head and arching her legs.

I suddenly realized that unlike all the women I’d
dated in the past, Claire wasn’t going to open up to me first—if she opened up
at all. She didn’t trust me, and I guessed I hadn’t really given her much of a
reason to.

“My parents were crystal meth dealers.” I turned to face
her. “They used to leave me and my little sister locked in the trailer home
while they went out and sold drugs. Whenever they were home, they were either
passed out high or yelling at us for shit we didn’t even do.”

She crossed her legs on the bench and looked into my
eyes.  She looked sympathetic, but I didn’t want to turn this into an emotional
tirade. I just wanted to give her the facts and move on to a different
conversation. 

“We pretty much had to fend for ourselves. I was
eight and she was three. At first, they only left us for a few hours, a night
here or there. But in the summertime they would leave us locked in there for
weeks at a time. The two of us would cry for someone to come help us, but no
one ever did...”

I sighed. “By the time I was twelve, I was
taking care of my little sister all by myself and just trying to keep us out of
my parents’ way. I tried to stay after school as late as I could and made sure
she was out the trailer as much as possible. But on one particular Friday, all
the activities were canceled because of a storm, so we had to go home. When we
got there, my parents were getting into a car and saying they’d be right back.
We went inside as usual and they locked the door behind us. I tucked my sister
into bed and was about to take a nap, but all these pots and bottles were in
flames on the stove. I tried to put the fire out, but the flames only grew
bigger and bigger.”

I suddenly remembered waking Hayley up, listening to
her deafening screams once she saw the flames behind my back, once she realized
that the flames were blocking the only door.

I locked us both in the bathroom, hoping that the
neighbors would see the flames—that they would call the fire department in time
to get us out. But black smoke started seeping underneath the door, and I could
see the metal hinges twisting and bending in the heat.

I started throwing things at the small window that
was above the toilet—soap dishes, shampoo bottles, the plunger— attempting the
break it, but it wouldn’t crack.

Hayley was crying hysterically—beating her hands
against the shower glass, and I was trying my best to get that damn window
open. After a while I didn’t hear her erratic screams at all. She’d passed out.

“I didn’t know what to do so I just kept throwing
stuff at that window. I didn’t have time to stop and help her.”

“She died?” Claire looked saddened.

“No.” I ran my hand through my hair. “I managed to
get the window open by beating at it with a metal trash can. I picked her up
and threw her out of it, and then I climbed out minutes before the whole
trailer exploded...If I were to write about it in my bio, it would read
something like: My parents left me and my little sister in an exploding meth
lab alone and we were eventually separated and put in different foster homes
while they served out long prison terms. That’s not something I really want my
employees or competitors to know about. People are sick these days and will use
anything in a smear campaign.”

“I’m so sorry...I wouldn’t have asked if—”

“It’s okay. I don’t think about it that often.”

She was quiet for several moments. “Can I ask you
something else?”

“Is it something else depressing?”

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s about the women
you’ve dated before.”

“Ask away.”

“Have you ever dated anyone else older than you?”

“No.”

“Any reason why?”

“I don’t need to know how old a beautiful woman is
before I ask her out.” I watched her blush. “It just never happened before you.
There’s no other reason.”

“And you’ve really slept with
seventeen
women?”

“Would it make you feel better if I lied to you
about it?”

“Maybe. Try it.”

“Okay, Claire.” I tried to sound as sincere as
possible. “No, I haven’t really slept with seventeen women. That’s a ridiculous
number...I made that up to seem like I was more experienced than I was. The truth
is, I was a virgin when we first met. But I knew that the moment I saw you and
heard a few words come out of your smart ass mouth, that it was
you
that
I wanted to lose my virginity to. I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I cried
after the first time we—”

“You’re so full of it.” She playfully hit my
shoulder and I pulled her close to me.

“I don’t lie.” I ran my fingers across her soft
lips. “Unlike some people I know...” I stifled her laugh with a kiss and laid her
against the park bench, but she suddenly jumped up.

“Oh my god...” she said as she shook her head. “I knew
we should’ve left earlier...”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Claire? Mr. Statham?” Mr. Henderson, one of the
campaign directors, stopped running right in front of us and took out his
ear-buds. “You two are here...
together
?” He raised his eyebrow.

Claire sighed and looked like she was about to say
something, but I stood up. “Not at all, Mr. Henderson. I saw Miss Gracen
running by and asked her to sit with me for a minute. Do all directors meet
here on Saturday mornings? Am I keeping her away from the rest of the group?”

“Oh, not at all.” He shook his head. “But I may have
to start coming here more often...Claire, I had no idea you ran. Maybe we can run
here together sometime?”

This secret dating shit isn’t going to
work for too much longer...

“Um...” She looked over at me. “I’m not so—”

“It was nice seeing the two of you today. It’s good
to know that employees are friends outside of the office.” I looked back and
forth between the two of them. “I’m going to go back to relaxing on the bench
now. Have a great Saturday, Mr. Henderson.” I narrowed my eyes at Claire. “
Miss
Gracen
.”

I walked back over to the bench, only a few feet
away from them, and pretended to be engrossed in my phone.

“What were you saying, Claire?” He smiled at her.

“I was saying that I wasn’t sure if that’d be a good
idea...We’re coworkers in the same department and—”

“You and I both know the fraternization policy was
canceled a while ago.” He reached over and caressed her cheek with the side of
his palm. “It’s just a run, Claire. If you enjoy it—and I think you would, we
could even do lunch later. There’s this great sandwich shop two miles down.”

“I—”

“I’ve always wanted to ask you out—you’re
beyond
gorgeous, but with the policy and all, and you being so—”

“Me being so
what
?” She tilted her head to
the side and smiled.

Is she actually entertaining
him?! In front of me?! Right in front of me?!

“Nothing...I just always wanted to ask you out, that’s
all. Would you like to run with me next Saturday?”

“I can’t. I mean, thanks for the offer but I can’t
go out with you...I’m kind of seeing someone else right now.”

Kind of?

“Is it completely exclusive or are you open to
dating other people?”

She hesitated and I almost jumped up and kissed her
in broad daylight, right in front of him and anyone else that cared to watch.

“I’m seeing someone else, Matthew...”

“Well...” He smiled. “Let me know if it doesn’t work
out, okay? I think you and I would be good together. We have a lot in common...”
He looked her over one last time before he walked away.

I can’t believe this woman. She has
some. fucking. nerve.

Mr. Henderson resumed his run and Claire walked back
over to the bench.

“I think we should get out of here before anyone
else shows up.” She sighed. “It’s almost nine o’ clock so—”

“Are you
ashamed
of me, Claire?”

“What? No, of course not. I—”

“What’s the reason behind keeping us dating a secret
again? The employee policy has been changed for quite some time now.”

“Because you’re
the CEO
and I’m a
mid–level
marketing director. It’s already complicated enough with the age gap, but
our positions are—”

“Do you want a fucking promotion? Do you want a seat
on the goddamn board? What position do you fucking want because I’ll make it
happen
today
. What do I need to do to make sure people know that you’re
taken
and not interested because you sure as hell don’t know how to make
that clear!”

“Excuse me?” She scoffed. “I don’t need you to
insult me by acting like you’re in control of—”

“What position do you want?”

“It’s not about
the position
, Jonathan.” She
seethed. “It’s about me knowing better than to date the CEO in the first place,
who is undoubtedly the most jealous and possessive man I’ve ever met.”

“You left out
the sexiest
.”

She rolled her eyes and stood up. “I parked my car
on the other side of the lake. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

“Stop.” I reached out and grabbed her arm. “I was
more than honest with you. I told you I’m the jealous type and I
meant that
.
I don’t want to see you with anyone else and I don’t want people thinking
you’re on the market...What do I need to do to make sure that happens?”

“Stop being so damn childish.”

“I’m not being childish. I’m protecting what’s
mine
.”

“I’m not—”

“You’re not what?
Mine
? Is that what you were
about to say?”

She crossed her arms and let out an exasperated
sigh.

“Why did you let him touch you here?” I ran my
fingertips across her cheek. “I didn’t like that...”

“How was I supposed to know that he was going to
touch me? I can’t read minds... We really need to leave before the morning rush.
Mr. Barnes runs here sometimes, as well as a few of my associates...”

“Where are you headed?” I slipped my arm around her
waist.

“Home.” She tried to move my hand, but I tightened
my grip.

“I don’t think so.”

“Jonathan, I
am
going home. Right now. Deal
with it.”

“No. You’re not. You’re coming with me.” I narrowed
my eyes at her. “We need to have another discussion and make sure the two of us
are on the same page. I don’t think you fully understand what being
mine
means.”

“Fine. So we’re only going to talk?”

“Yes...Right after I fuck the shit out of you.”

J
onathan

“Could you please stop filling my office
with hundreds of flowers every day? This is getting ridiculous!”
Claire texted me.

“I don’t want anyone thinking you’re
available.”

“No one thinks I’m available! I told you
no one here has ever tried to talk to me but you (except for Saturday), and I’m
starting to rethink our arrangement...”

“Are you threatening me, Claire? You
should see how people look at you when you step into meetings or when you walk
down the hall. No one ever tried to talk to you because of that damn
fraternization policy and they assumed you wouldn’t give them the time of day.”

“I don’t make idle threats.”

“I look forward to being punished. See
you this evening.”

“Mr. Statham?” The therapist cleared her throat.
“Are you ready to begin now?”

I tried not to roll my eyes. I’d hired a mediator to
speak with my mother and me once a week since she and I couldn’t be in the same
room for more than five minutes without arguing.

Even though my mother thought this was a brilliant
idea, I was beginning to have second thoughts; she didn’t look too composed
today—her hair was in a frizzy ponytail, her pants weren’t ironed, and she
reeked of beer and ashes.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

“Good.” She clasped her hands together. “We’ll start
with a few simple questions to see what we’re dealing with. Mrs. Statham—I
mean,
Denise
—what do you hope to accomplish by these sessions?”

“I want my son to respect me again...I want him to
welcome me back into his life so we can start over.”

“Okay...” The therapist jotted down a few notes. “And
what about you, Jonathan? What do you hope to gain from this?”

“I have nothing to gain from this...Maybe just to be
able to sit in a room with her without yelling. That would be sufficient
enough.”

“See?” My mom crossed her legs. “That’s exactly what
I was telling you about earlier, Doctor. He only hired you to make himself look
good, to make it seem like he’s trying, but he’s really not. He doesn’t give a
damn about me, he—”

“Have you told her how many times you’ve relapsed?
How many times you’ve been in and out of prison? How you technically should be
in prison
right now
?”

“Damnit Jonathan! I’m trying to make something of
myself! I’m working really hard! Stop holding my past against me! I’m—”

“Calm down, Denise.” The therapist handed her a
glass of water. “Jonathan, we don’t need to start pointing fingers or assigning
blame at this stage. We need to start by taking things very slowly. Surely
there is something you want to gain out of these sessions.”

I leaned back in my chair and thought long and hard.
“I don’t want to be angry with her anymore.”

“Great! That’s a good start. Now Denise, I’m going
to ask you a question and I want you to answer it as truthfully as possible.
Jonathan, please don’t interrupt...Why do you think you and your son don’t have a
good relationship?”

My mother looked at me and sighed. “I had Jonathan
when I was twenty-five...I wasn’t ready for a baby but I did my best with what I
had...Me and his father were working three jobs each just to make ends meet and
before we knew it, we had another child, a baby girl...One day while we were
going over more overdue bills, a few of his friends came over and asked if we
wanted to try some meth—to stop stressing out so much you know? We both did it
and—”

“They went from users to
chronic
users to two
of the most sought after meth dealers in the whole state of Ohio. It’s a very
heartwarming story.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m thinking about turning it into a
Christmas play.”

“Jonathan, let her finish...” The therapist sighed.

“Anyway,” my mother said, “I was a horrible mother...I
know that, and I’ve owned that but...I was on drugs...I wasn’t myself. I didn’t
mean to leave my kids hungry or neglect them...It’s completely my fault that they
were taken away from me, but I’m clean now and I want a chance to be the mother
I should have been back then.”

“Very good start, Denise. Jonathan, how do you feel
about what your mother just said?”

“What do you mean ‘how do I feel’?”

“How do you feel? Do you think she’s sincere?”

“My mother has been clean for what? Two months now?
By the end of this month, she’ll be back in rehab and won’t even remember that
this session happened—which is quite fitting, because you’re not the first therapist
I’ve hired and she doesn’t remember any of the other therapists either...So, I
feel rather...I feel nothing.”

“She apologized for leaving you and your sister
hungry. She—”

“The word ‘hungry’ implies
wanting
something
to eat—knowing that it’s only a matter of time before some type of food is
placed in front of you. My mother did not leave us
hungry
. She left us
starving
.
We went days, sometimes
weeks
, locked inside our trailer with just rice
grains to eat. It wasn’t until I realized that I could climb out the window and
get to the dumpsters that I realized what the word ‘
hungry
’ meant.”

There was silence.

The therapist took off her glasses and looked back
and forth between the two of us. “Okay, we clearly have a lot of work to do
over the next few months....Let’s take a break and reconvene next week. Okay?”

“Great.” I stood up and offered a hug to my mother.
Even though I was beyond furious with her, I always made a point to do that,
just in case she relapsed before our next encounter and I wouldn’t see her for
another eight months.

“Do you want to get dinner tonight?” She hugged me
back. “We don’t have to say a word to each other. We could go to one of those
restaurants that plays movies. We never watched any movies together...”

And we probably never will.

“Maybe some other time. I have a date tonight.”

––––––––

I
parked in front of Claire’s house and hit my
emergency brake so my car wouldn’t roll down the hill. I’d been meaning to ask
why the hell she’d bought a house at the top of a slope; it didn’t seem safe.

“You’re early...What type of car is that?”
She
texted me.

“A Murcielago. The meeting was cut
short. Take your time getting ready...Wear a dress.”

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through a few of
my emails, skimming through most of them. I’d been receiving at least five
hundred a day since word got out about my company going public. I’d even had to
hire a temporary email consultant to sort through them all.

This IPO is going to be the death of me...

I looked up and saw Claire locking the front door of
her house. I stepped out of the car and walked over to the passenger side.

“Nice
pantsuit
.” I laughed. “I actually like
this one.”

“Thank you. I figured I’d wear the outfit you liked
me in best.” She slipped into the car.

I walked back over to my side and sped away.

“Where are we going today?” she asked. “Did you shut
down Ocean Beach so we could eat there?”

“Would you like me to?”

She shook her head and smiled.

“We’re going to Pittsburgh Rivers.”

“
What
?” She paled.

“Pittsburgh Rivers. It’s a specialty restaurant a
few miles from here. They have themed meals from the city. I was hoping you’d
be able to suggest some things for me to try since that’s your hometown.”

“Oh...”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She turned her head towards the window. “I’m
fine.”

I pulled into the parking lot minutes later and
looked at her. She hadn’t said much of anything on the drive over. She’d been
strangely quiet and hadn’t given me any of her usual sarcasm.

“Are you sure that you’re okay, Claire? We don’t
have to eat here if you don’t want to. We can go to my beach house or—”

“I’m sure. I’m just a little tired...”

I knew she was lying, but I decided not to push the
issue any further. I helped her out of the car and led her into the restaurant.

“Good evening, Mr. Statham. Right this way.” The
host greeted me as soon as I stepped inside and ushered us into a private room.

The walls were painted in murals of all the popular
Pittsburgh landmarks—Heinz Field, Cathedral of Learning, Carnegie Museum—and I
thought Claire would start chatting about them, but she didn’t say a word.

“Welcome to Pittsburgh Rivers, San Francisco’s own
version of the great city of Pittsburgh,” our waiter said. He pulled a few
menus from his apron and looked back and forth between us. “Will you two
require a full or a half menu tonight? The Hot Metal Bridge special is only
available on the full one.”

“Full.” I noticed Claire wincing.

“Fine choice. I’ll bring out those menus right away
sir. Would you be interested in the chef’s special wine? It was imported
directly from a French winery.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a wonderful wine, a hand-pressed 1975 Bordeaux
and—”

Claire started coughing and stood up. “Excuse me,
gentlemen. I’ll be right back.”

“No, thank you...” I watched her saunter off. “We’ll
have your best champagne.”

“Yes sir.” He walked away.

I scrolled through my emails again, waiting on
Claire to rejoin me at the table, but twenty minutes passed and she never
returned.

I stood up and headed to the bathroom, knocking
before I walked in. “Claire?”

“I’ll be out in a minute.” She sighed.

I stepped inside and locked the door behind me. I
walked past all the empty stalls and spotted her sitting at a vanity with her
head down.

“What’s wrong?” I touched her shoulder. “Tell me.”

“Can we...” She slowly turned around to face me. “Can
we please get the hell out of here?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere but here...”

I reached for her hand and led her back outside. I
wanted to drive to my beach house, but it was forty minutes away so I headed
for my condo downtown.

Once again, she said nothing to me during the drive.
She kept her head turned towards the window and I caught her wiping away a
stray tear.

“Welcome back, Mr. Statham.” The valet caught my
keys as soon as I pulled up to the building.

“Thank you, Mr. Reese.” I helped Claire out of the
car. “Could you keep it on the bottom level?”

“Of course.”

I pulled Claire close to me as we stepped onto the
elevator, watching her face pale in the reflection of the doors. When we
reached my place, I led her over to a sofa and sat next to her.

“Talk to me...Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m just having a bad day.” She
forced a smile. “Do you have any movies here? We should watch—”

I cupped her face in my hands. “If you and I are
going to work, you’re going to have to open up to me...If this was strictly
physical or if I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t be concerned, but I
do
care. You can trust me.”

“So, you don’t have any movies here?”

“We’re not watching any movies. You’re going to tell
me why you’re upset. You completely changed once I mentioned Pittsburgh Rivers
and I want to know why. You can sit here and be silent for as long as you want,
but we’re not leaving this room until you tell me.”

She leaned back against the couch and shut her eyes.

Fair enough...
I
tapped my phone and prepared to order dinner, but she turned to face me.

“My ex-husband proposed to me at Heinz Field,” she
said. “He knew one of the physical trainers that worked for the football team
and he let us in after hours. I thought we were going there to take a private
tour, but he walked me out to the fifty yard line and proposed to me...It was so
romantic. He even managed to get the scoreboard to read ‘Will you marry me?’ in
bright yellow lights. I just knew that he was
the one
after that...until
fourteen years later when I found out that he and my best friend had been
having an affair and she was pregnant by him...Everything that I thought was
beautiful about my life in Pittsburgh became ugly after that.”

I suddenly felt guilty for suggesting that
restaurant, for thinking it would stir up good memories and conversation.

“I don’t think about it as much as I used to, but
there are still little reminders here or there and I just...”

“You just what?” I pulled her closer.

“I still can’t believe it on some days...My
best
friend
and my
husband
? The two people I trusted the most?” She
sighed. “She and I used to take a road trip to New York every year to
celebrate her birthday. We always did the same thing: Times Square, a Broadway
play, and a night on the town...”

“The last time we went there together, she was three
months pregnant and I was buying her all these cute little baby clothes because
I was so happy for her...I can’t help but think how sick of a person she really
was—to celebrate her birthday with me, knowing that my husband’s child was
growing inside of her...How fucking disgusting is that?”

She leaned against me. “When I asked my husband
why
he did it—why he would even
think
to cheat on me with my best friend, he
said there’d always been something between the two of them. He said he’d had
feelings for her since the first day they met, but he thought being with me was
the safe and secure choice...Then, one night while they were drinking—at my house
ironically, one thing led to another and...And after years of suppressing their
feelings, they just couldn’t deny it anymore...Isn’t that the stupidest shit
you’ve ever heard?”

I didn’t say anything. I just gently rubbed her
back.