My Unexpected Forever (12 page)

“Right.” I walk back to my bike and get on. I let the engine roar, spinning the throttle more than necessary. I slide my helmet over my doo rag and fasten my chinstrap. I rev the engine one more time before letting it idle. “You wanna ride, Katelyn? Want to feel what it’s like to take a ride with me, to have your legs wrapped around my waist?”

“You’re an ass, Harrison James!”

“So you’ve said, sweetheart.” I don’t give her an opportunity to respond. I peel out of the field with dirt blowing in my wake. That woman frustrates me to no end.

"H
ow
are you?”

“Fine,” I reply. My hands are folded neatly in my lap. My ankles are crossed the way my mother taught me. Although, if she knew I was sitting in an old wing back chair under the scrutiny of a therapist, she’d be mortified.

“How are the girls?”

“Fine,” I say again, much to the dismay of Doctor Feelgood, who’s really Dr. Brooks, but was dubbed Feelgood by Liam back in high school because of the way his mom acted after she visited him.

Dr. Brooks sets down his pen and swivels back and forth in his chair. “Katelyn, this is your third visit and each time I ask you a question, everything is
fine
.” He leans forward and rests his folded hands in front of him. I break eye contact. The threadbare carpet is in dire need of changing after years and years of pacing. I should know. I paced the first day.

“Everything is fine,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. I know he can see right through me. He’s trained for this shit.

“If that was the case, you wouldn’t be sitting across from me wasting your hard earned money.”

When I look up, he knows he’s called my bluff. He picks up again, smiling as he does so.

“Why are you here, Katelyn?”

My fingers pick at the bronze tack holding the fabric to the chair. “I don’t know, really. I um… things with…” I stop and take a deep breath. I’ve told myself I won’t cry, that I’m strong and can do this. He’s here to help. “I feel like I’m going in circles with everything.”

“Let’s start with the girls. How are they adjusting?”

I shake my head and reach for a tissue. “Elle is doing fine. She seems to be adjusting well and has sort of attached herself to Harrison, but Peyton… she is acting out and I don’t know what to do to help her. I know she misses Mason, we all do, but she’s taking it hard. Liam helps, but …”

“It’s not the same?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Now, who’s Harrison?”

I shift uncomfortably in my chair. “He’s the drummer in Liam’s band. I started working for them and we just came off tour. He and Elle hit it off.”

“Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“No, he’s good to her and she likes him.” He is. There’s no doubting this. Watching them together in Disney World was a sight I never wanted to see, but couldn’t help and stare. The way he treated her, like she walked on water, it showed me a different Harrison.

“But?”

“But what?” I don’t purposely mean to be obtuse, but I’m not giving any answers that require me to think too hard.

“Your body language is suggesting otherwise.”

Do I tell him how he makes me feel? Is this where I let all my feelings out on the table and he dissects them for me and tells me what I need to do?

“Harrison and I…” I shake my head and bite my tongue from speaking out. “We’ve agreed to keep things professional.”

He nods and writes something else down. I wonder if I get a copy of these notes when we’re all said and done. You know like a parting gift of some sort.

“Harrison and Elle get along?”

I nod.

“What about him and Peyton. It’s important that he likes both girls.”

“Were not together,” I reply, correcting his assumption.

“Okay,” he says with more scribbling.

“He’s good with Peyton, but she prefers Liam.”

“Have you thought about an after school program or something at the community center that she can be involved with?”

“No, I haven’t. Will that help?” My voice is full of desperation. He looks up briefly before returning his focus to the paper.

“It might, but I’d also like to see the girls too, individually and the three of you together. We can figure out what’s going to work and get you all talking.”

“Okay.”

“Now tell me about you.”

“What about me?”

“It’s been a year, have you thought about dating?”

I glare at him. How does he know that dating is even an option? Small town gossip is going to be the death of me, I swear. “Is a year some predetermined mourning period?”

“No, but your hostility tells me that you’re interested in someone.”

“I am not.” I break my gaze from him and look down at my hands. They’re clutched, my nails digging into my palms. “I can’t…”

“Why not?”

I roll my eyes. “It wouldn’t work. He’s not my type.”

“There is no
type
when it comes to love, Katelyn.”

“Sure there is. I love Mason and this man, he’s nothing like Mason.”

Dr. Brooks leans forward. “Are you trying to replace Mason?”

“What?” I scoff. “No, that’s absurd. No one can replace him. Why would you ask me something like that?”

His hand moves his pen across the paper. It sounds like a bird walking across the desk. I sit up and try to make out what he’s writing down, but his arm moves to cover my angle.

“Finding someone to spend time with doesn’t mean you have to fall in love. It means you have companionship. Someone you can lean on and who understands and accepts what you’re going through. This person can be a friend or a lover. The important thing is to not let the passing of Mason close you off from what you need. Everyone needs someone, Katelyn.”

He pushes his chair and walks over with a tissue extended to me. I didn’t even know tears had fallen. What if he’s right? What if I can let someone in and still love Mason?

"I
’ll
see you next week.” He sets his hand on my shoulder. “It gets better, if you allow it.”

My heart starts beating rapidly as soon as I hear the mower start. I don’t know why he’s here. After last night – the way he acted – I thought he’d bail on me. I close the photo album and slide it under the couch. I don’t know why, it’s not like I plan to invite him in. I never do. I’m not even sure he’d come in after yesterday. But if he did, and I’m not saying he would but maybe he needs to use the bathroom, I don’t want him seeing me sitting here pining over my dead husband.

I lean forward a bit to peer out the sliding glass door, but don’t see him. Each time he starts in a different place. Mason always started in the back. He’d mow in a square, moving the girls’ toys out of the way each time. My yard is no longer mowed in a square, but straight lines. I know this because I’ve spied on him, even though I tell myself I need to stop. I need to focus on the girls and not the man who is mowing my lawn in place of my husband.

Luck is not on my side today because he’s starting in the front and my curtains are closed. If I had any nerve I’d go throw them open and see what he’s wearing, not that I’ve seen him in anything except shorts, t-shirts and a stupid beanie. If I had an ounce of courage, I’d rip the thing from his head before he could stop me so I could see what he’s hiding. And why, why is he hiding under those stupid things?

“There is no type when it comes to love.”
The words replay over and over in my head. What if Dr. Brooks is right? Can I be strong enough to let Harrison into my life without reservation? I don’t know if I can. I also worry about what Mr. Powell would think. I know that my mother would never accept Harrison. He doesn’t fit her stereotypical poster boy for her daughter, but my daddy, he wouldn’t care, as long as I’m happy.

I know I should talk to him, maybe offer him money for mowing my lawn twice a week, but last night I was a bitch to him and he probably couldn’t care less if we ever speak again. I hate myself for even thinking about his feelings, but I do, even if I can’t admit it to anyone. As much as I want to, I can’t turn off the way I feel when he’s near.

Peyton and Elle come running into the house. Peyton is covered in dirt. Elle looks prim and proper. This is typical and it makes me miss life on the tour bus. Peyton didn’t have mounds of dirt or grass to roll in and stain her clothes. Elle gives me a hug, picks up her book and heads to her shared bedroom to read. I give Peyton one look and she knows. She heads off to the bathroom, stomping and muttering under her breath. I don’t know what I’m going to do with her. She’s been more withdrawn since we returned. The only people she’s willing to do anything with are Noah and Quinn. I was hoping that once school started, she’d settle down, but I’m afraid she’s going to continue to struggle and I don’t know how to help her if I can’t even help myself.

It’s been a year. I was hoping people would forget, but no such luck. The copious amount of flowers brought by Josie’s delivery boy is evidence that we’re at the forefront of everyone’s thoughts. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. There’s no guide instructing me how to act or feel, aside from being empty. We went to the cemetery with Mr. Powell and that felt awkward. I couldn’t be
me
with my father-in-law standing there. He wants to go out to dinner, but that feels wrong. Liam says Mason would want us to celebrate and that means a night of childish antics at the tower, not that I’m opposed to that, but Harrison will be there and I’m not sure how much more I can handle. I’m tired of Liam and Josie telling me that Mason would want me to move on with someone who cares about me and the girls. I’m not buying it.

Jenna suggested I visit a medium. She believes in the fates and kismet. Josie offered to go with me, but I’m afraid of what I’ll find out. What if he’s happy? Is that possible? I can’t take the chance that Mason is okay with not being here with us anymore. Josie says I’m overreacting. I’m scared that she’s right. What if the medium tells me things that I don’t want to know?

The sound of the mower near the back door brings me out of my reverie. My hand wipes at my cheek, only to find it dry. I’ve found that I’m crying less and less as the time gets farther away from the last time I kissed Mason. Now, we only kiss in dreams and memories, and those are starting to fade too.

Harrison comes into view. He’s in a tank top today, showing off even more tattoos than I’ve seen before. He looks briefly toward the sliding glass door as he passes. It’s hot out and he’s wearing that damn hat. Even last night he had something on his head. I step toward the door, my hand resting on the handle. Do I want to go out there and pretend I have something to clean? I look at my all but forgotten flowerbed and see that the flowers need to be pruned. I’m wearing shorts and a t-shirt, easily considered gardening clothes.

I slide the door open and step out. The hot sun is beating down. We are in desperate need of rain. I step off my patio and onto the freshly cut grass. I’m tempted to take my shoes off to feel the coolness of the ground. I watch Harrison as he mows in almost even strips. This is a side of Harrison that separates him from the rock star that I know. I haven’t told anyone this, but the bouquet he gave me at Christmas last year hangs in my closet. I can’t bring myself to throw them out.

Each time Harrison walks by, he’s closer. His pattern has changed. Maybe he’s done this every time he’s out here and I just haven’t noticed.

I’m looking now and I’m not sure I’m going to be able to stop. There’s something that pulls me to him, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, he makes me feel; and not the same way that Mason did, but different.

He shuts the mower off. He lifts his shirt and I can see his toned stomach and the dark patch of hair extending into his shorts. I try not to stare, but I can’t help it. He’s beautiful in his own unique way. I know why women flock to him. He’s easy on the eyes. He wipes the sweat from his forehead. His hand moving under that god-awful hat he’s wearing. I’m starting to think he wears it just to piss me off. If he is, it’s working.

He’s watching me, waiting to see if I’ll run away. Maybe I need to heed Dr. Brooks’ advice and find a companion. I’m just not sure Harrison is the one for me. There’s too much that I can’t wrap my head around where he’s concerned.

I take a step closer. He does the same thing. Both of us are taking steps until we’re in front of each other. He stands so much taller than me that I have to look up at him.

“I’m sorry about last night.”

I didn’t expect those words to come from him. His voice is soft. I can hear the remorse in the tone.

“Me too, I was out of line.”

“It happens.”

Harrison and I stand close enough to be able to touch, both of us looking at each other. No words are exchanged, but I do smile and am rewarded with one of the most brilliant smiles I have ever seen. One that if I’m not careful, I could get lost in for days.

“Mommy.”

Harrison’s head snaps up before I can turn around. Peyton stands on the patio, with her hands on her hips. From the position of the sun, I can’t see what her expression is, but I can only imagine that she’s not happy.

“Hi baby.”

“I’m not a baby.”

I sigh. Harrison rests his hand on my back and his thumb rubs small circles there. I’m surprised to find that it calms me. “I’m sorry, Peyton.”

“I’m hungry.”

“It is dinner time,” Harrison says quietly. I nod, acknowledging that our little interaction is over. “What do you say we all go out to eat? I just have this small bit to finish. Five minutes tops.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, turning slightly.

“Of course, let me finish and I can meet you someplace after I pick up Quinn.”

I look back at Peyton who stands defiantly. Maybe it’s not me that needs a man in my life, but her. Harrison’s very good with Elle maybe he can break down Peyton’s wall.

“Okay.” I take a last look at Harrison and walk toward Peyton. She doesn’t look at me when I get to her. I kneel down and move her hair out of her face. She turns away. Every time she does this it breaks my heart.

“We’re going to go out to dinner with Harrison and Quinn.”

“I don’t want to.”

I close my eyes. Tough love, that’s what she needs.

“Okay, well I think Jenna is home, so I’ll call and see if she can babysit.”

I get up and walk away, leaving her outside. I’m not going to cave to her attitude. If she wants to ruin her night, she can. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before seeking out Elle. I know she’ll be excited to go.

“What are you doing?” Elle asks, almost laughing.

“I’m trying to calm down.” I open my eyes to find my mini-me with her eyes closed. “What are you doing?”

“The same.”

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“I’m hungry.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Would you like to go out to dinner with Harrison and Quinn?”

Her eyes flash open with excitement and my heart breaks because I so want Peyton to look at me like this. “Yes!”

“Okay, go change.” I wait a few heartbeats before turning around and looking out the sliding door. Harrison and Peyton are talking, and for the first time since we’ve returned from Disney, she’s smiling. And even though I can’t tell him, he’s just chipped away a little more at my heart.