Sniffing about, Mrs. Meyers asked, “And what is on the menu tonight?”
Smiling Hannah realized that she hadn’t even asked for input. She had simply set about making whatever struck her fancy once Gavin’s mother had retired for her nap. “While you were sleeping, I made a pan of lasagna with a homemade meat sauce.” She studied the reaction and was pleased to see that the woman hadn’t wrinkled her nose in response. “We’ll be having a nice sourdough loaf,” she commented, pointing to the bread machine on the counter. “And obviously, Caesar salad.”
And if she had watched in horror as Hannah cooked, Mrs. Meyers now watched in fascination as Hannah and her son cleaned up together.
She wouldn’t have guessed that Gavin even knew how to clean up, but there he was, working along side the woman he obviously felt very deeply for. She studied them as she sipped her coffee. Hannah was humming to herself, sometimes singing aloud, and then she would catch herself and giggle. Gavin would smile affectionately at her and encourage her to continue. It was very sweet even. Mrs. Meyers smiled over the rim of her cup. Too bad she lived so far away; she would give anything to see how this developed.
Minutes after Hannah had gone upstairs to read to the girls, Gavin had turned to his mother.
“Well,” he began rather sourly. He was used to her constant criticisms, that no woman he had ever had feelings for was good enough for him. And Hannah wasn’t well-bred like the others; she had never been to preparatory school. She had no experience with high society or the ways of his world. She was fresh. She might as well have walked off a farm; she was so naïve and innocent. He sighed and braced himself, ready to jump to her defense as needed.
“What?”
Mrs. Meyers said innocently, a smug smile on her face.
“Don’t play games with me, mother,” he said leaning towards her.
“I know you must have formed some opinion of her already. Out with it.” And he folded his arms over his chest.
Slowly setting her cup down on the saucer, Mrs. Meyers folded her hands in her lap and met his gaze with a smirk.
“I like her,” she admitted.
“But,” Gavin prompted.
“No buts.” She watched him for a reaction. It was possible she had found a new form of torture. And she smiled widely.
“You aren’t upset that she has kids?”
He asked.
“No,” she responded.
“What about her lack of breeding?” He arched an eyebrow.
“She’s a person, dear, not a horse,” she chided.
Exasperated he threw his hands up. “As if that has ever stopped you from saying that before!” He glanced at the clock. He knew if he wanted to hear Hannah read he couldn’t waste any more time arguing with his mother. “We’ll talk,” he said as he left the room and headed up the stairs.
Moments later, Gavin was standing shyly outside the door.
Zoe had come over and taken him by the hand. Hesitantly he had entered the room, but he didn’t make it more than a step until he felt the usual constriction in his chest. He tugged at the collar of his Carolina blue golf shirt. He was ready to turn around and go back to his post in the hall when Hannah paused and caught his eye.
“Sit with me,” she said simply and patted the spot that Zoe had just vacated.
“But that’s where Zoe was sitting…” he tried to protest.
“I’ll just sit on your lap,” Zoe offered, determined to do anything to make her mother resume reading.
Gavin glanced down at her, fidgeting. And he looked over at Rory and her obvious impatience. Sighing, he knew that he had no choice. Slowly, he headed to the side of the bed. It was torture. He could feel beads of sweat break out on his forehead. Hannah must have noticed since she was frowning at him. The moment he forced himself to sit on the bed and sink into the pillows, Hannah adjusted herself so that she was leaned against his chest.
“There,” she said and smiled up at him.
For a moment he was lost in her twinkling eyes. And a second later, he realized he could breathe easily with her close. He exhaled and prepared to listen when Zoe climbed onto his lap.
Just like
her mother, she settled herself and said, “There.”
“Back to our story,” Hannah said with a smile. “What does the business man say?”
And the girls put serious looks on their faces as they said in unison, “I am concerned with matters of consequence.”
Gavin was instantly humbled. He was a businessman. And too often it felt like his life was one big matter of consequence after another, while in truth, none of it mattered to him. He had thrown himself into the company because it was the family business. It was what was expected of him. He threw himself into getting married to
India because once he completed college, it was expected of him. He had spent entirely too much of his life dealing with things he cared nothing about simply because it was expected of him.
Of course, hadn’t this thing with Hannah started because he was doing what was expected of him on some level? He brightened. Not really. This…this had begun because he was shunning what was expected of him. He had found a way around what his mother wanted and discovered a way to make himself happy in the process. What had begun for all the wrong reasons was now flourishing for all the right ones.
He snuggled into the pillows a little more and smiled down at the girls and Hannah. Maybe they could be a family. Maybe he could have what was always expected of him on his terms. For the first time in a long time, he was happy and he understood what truly mattered in life.
Soon enough,
the reading was done, the girls were in bed, and Hannah had joined him and was reading contentedly while he studied some of the files lying on his desk. Shortly after nine, there was a brisk knock on the door before it was opened. They both jumped slightly at the intrusion.
Mrs. Meyers glanced back and forth between the two.
They made quite the picture, sitting there involved in their own affairs, but still together. She smiled. “Well, I’m turning in for the night. Sleep well, you two. See you in the morning,” she ended in a pleasant sing song voice. Then she turned on her heels and exited the room, shutting the door behind her.
Gavin was shocked.
His mother had almost seemed happy. How utterly uncharacteristic of her. “Hm,” he said. And he began tapping his pen while he contemplated his mother’s actions.
Hannah sat up in the chair and dropped her legs to the floor. “Not to interrupt,” she said slowly. “I know you’re deep in thought.” She gestured to his pen to support her statement. “But I was wondering where you are sleeping while your mother is here.” She watched him for a reaction.
He grabbed his head in his hands.
“Damn it,” he growled. Then he stood and walked over toward the fireplace where he began pacing.
“Didn’t give that much thought, chief?” Hannah joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Obviously not,” he snapped.
“Hey,” she chided, “don’t take your anger out on me.” She crossed her arms and stood in what could only be described as her scolding mommy posture.
Shoulders drooping in defeat, Gavin sighed.
“You’re right, of course.” He shrugged.
Quick to forgive, Hannah graced him with an understanding smile before continuing the conversation.
“Well, where do you normally sleep?” She asked.
“In the girls’ room,” he answered weakly.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “So, do you want the girls to bunk with me so that you can sleep there?”
“No,” he answered weakly.
“I may have let mother believe that we’re…together.” He cautiously watched for a reaction.
“Okay,” she said again, still waiting for a solution.
“So, she would expect that I would be upstairs with you,” he said quietly.
Hannah stiffened.
“Really.”
Gavin frowned.
“I’m just as upset over this as you are,” he complained.
“Well, what do you have to be upset over?
I’m the one who has to suddenly share her bed with her employer!” Hannah snapped and placed her hands on her hips.
“I can’t sleep in that room. I hate being in that room. I have panic attacks at the mere thought of entering that room. And now…I’ve sentenced myself to a weekend of hard time…in that room.” He turned and faced the fire, unwilling to see her reaction to all he had admitted.
Hannah crept over to him, slowly so as not to startle him.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his back. She could feel him relax slightly at her touch. “What is it about that room?” She asked gently. She could feel him hesitate, heard him start to speak but stop. “Was that ever your room?” She asked, voicing what she had suspected for some time.
“Yes,” he responded weakly.
“Okay. Are there just bad memories from your marriage?” She struggled to understand.
“It’s more than that,” he said in a low voice.
“Tell me,” Hannah urged.
“You know I’ll understand. You know I won’t judge you or laugh at you or make you feel badly in any way. Trust me, Gavin,” she said, giving him an extra squeeze. “Trust me like I trust you.”
He knew her intent was to instill strength, but it only made him feel worse.
He wasn’t worthy of her trust. She was living with him under false pretenses. And that’s why he was going to suffer for the next three nights in that room. He at least owed her an explanation.
Turning slowly, Gavin held her upper arms so she knew he still needed her touch.
Once he had maneuvered to face her, he stared deeply in her eyes, studying what he saw there. The acceptance she offered nearly shattered him. Taking a deep breath, he spoke. “That was where my marriage ended. That’s where I found my wife in bed with my sister doing…unimaginable things.” He watched for a reaction. “Say something,” he said weakly.
Hannah sighed.
Her heart ached for him. She knew what it was like to lose someone to another. And it explained the condition of the room and why he slept downstairs. He didn‘t want to be closer to his study; it was about being farther away from his painful past. “I figured it was something like that,” she said honestly. “I had hoped it wasn’t, because I know how much that hurts.” He held her closer, pulled her head tight to his chest. “I guess we have more in common than I thought,” she murmured.
Emotionally drained, Hannah let out a sigh.
“Well, I’m exhausted,” she noted. And she stretched some to emphasize her point. “Are you coming?” She watched him for a reaction. She wanted to make going to bed together seem as natural as apple pie, but feared that she was doing a poor job of it.
Staring at her in surprise he said, “So, I’m staying with you?”
She could tell just by looking at him that he had mixed feelings about the situation.
As close as they had been the previous evening while he held her all night on the patio, she knew that in less neutral territory, an actual bedroom, that they would both be nervous. “Yeah, you’re staying with me.”
Hannah headed toward the door.
“I just want to take a bath first, okay?” She watched as he nodded numbly. “I’ll be ready for bed in say…forty-five minutes. Does that work for you?”
He wore a confused look on his face.
“So, you want me to come up in forty-five minutes?”
Walking back to the sofa, Hannah sat down and patted the seat beside her.
Slowly, Gavin sat in his usual spot. “Is this the kind of marriage you had?” She asked. “Did you two never go to bed at the same time so you could talk about your day or just snuggle before bed?”
He stared at her.
“Did you?” He frowned. For some reason he hated to think of her sharing the kind of intimacy she described with anyone other than him. And the moment she posed the question, he could imagine them doing everything she suggested…and more.
Chuckling, Hannah admitted.
“Nope. I went to bed alone every night.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, there were lots of mornings that I woke up alone as well.” She sighed. “I just asked because that’s the kind of relationship I want some day.” She shrugged. “I guess it seems silly to you, but remember how you asked me about wanting to be close to someone?” He nodded. “I think about being close to somebody all the time. I never had that. It’s what I yearn for.”