by S. A. Wolfe
Seeing Talia in a sports bra with paint-splattered overalls turned me on so much we had sex in the hallway because we couldn’t “taint” Finn’s room, according to her. And then, covered in paint, we had sex again in the garage against a dusty worktable when we were supposed to be cleaning the paint off the brushes.
Each morning, we shower and then I drive her from my home to hers so she can change clothes and we have breakfast with her sister and mother. Aleska is more reserved, but Mila is clearly happy to see us together. I milk it.
Mila craves the social connection to someone new, and missing my own mother, I soak up the attention she showers on me.
I gloat to myself. I’m better than Marko and Adam Knight. I have Talia, and I have Finn. And I will help Mila. I’ll help this family become whole again, and I’ll be a part of it.
My simplistic viewpoint is reinforced when Jess shows up at the restaurant every morning this week to sit at the bar with her art supplies and work on some sketches. She won’t let anyone see her large pad of paper, but when I’m standing behind the taps, going over inventory and work lists on my laptop, Talia works on her own lists and distracts Jess with their chatty conversations enough that I can get a good look at one of her sketches.
It’s us.
Talia is leaning on the bar, looking up from her work. I’m standing on the other side of the bar as if we’re in mid-conversation. It’s the way Jess captures us looking at each other. It’s evident to any observer that sometimes all I see in a room of people is Talia. I’ve seen Jess flip a lot of pages on the pad over the last few days, so I wonder how many sketches show me mooning over Talia. Jesus.
For her part, Talia’s generosity obliterates any woman I’ve ever dated. She throws herself into making Finn’s room perfect, and then she organizes my home to make it Finn-friendly. She never discusses Adam Knight on the evenings she delivers his meals, and I don’t ask. All I know is she doesn’t linger at his place any longer than necessary, and she isn’t doing this because she doesn’t enjoy his company. I’m not so stupid as to think she’d suddenly find this guy to be unappealing. She’s drawing a line between her business and personal life, and I know this is all for my benefit. As far as Adam Knight is concerned, I’ve accepted that Talia has a whole host of interesting clients, including some single men, and Knight just happens to be one of them.
I finally have Talia seeing me as a responsible adult. I can’t afford to screw that up with petty jealousy.
My desire to be with her has only grown, and when we’re together, I’m insatiable to the point of exhausting her. When I do finally let her sleep, my thoughts go to all the possibilities of what my life could be with her and Finn; how much easier it would be if I wasn’t pursuing a career that has always come first in my life.
Saturday morning, I jump out of bed as soon as the sun rises. I’ve had so much energy since Talia and Finn have come into my life that I need little sleep.
“Come on, sunflower; get up,” I say, pulling the covers off her.
She squints and groans. “We just went to bed.” She rolls in the other direction to escape me, her face covered by a mass of tangled hair.
“It’s a big day. Finn’s coming, and I have a surprise for both of you.”
She doesn’t open her eyes but lets out a low groan, which is followed by a soft snore.
“You cannot possibly be asleep already.” I drag her back to my side of the bed and hoist her over my shoulder. That wakes her up.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“We’re showering, and then we’re picking up Finn,” I answer, carrying her into the bathroom.
“Put me down. Now.”
I set her down in the tub and turn on the shower.
“Peyton!” She jumps away from the cold water. “Really? You had to soak my pajamas, too?”
I smile as I strip off my underwear and step into the tub with her.
Talia tosses her wet T-shirt and pajama bottoms on the floor, and then I pull her into me for a morning kiss. She’s soft and warm and tastes like some blend of sweet and herbal. The presence of our morning breaths actually heightens my senses. I love how her hair smells, the back of her neck where she sweats when she’s in the hot kitchen, and the soft white-and-pink flesh around her scar. I kiss her everywhere, letting my hands roam freely, eager for more of her.
“After this, you should get Finn while I stay here and clean the house,” she says breathlessly as I leave a trail of kisses down her neck.
“No. I want you with me.”
• • •
She finishes drying her hair while I get dressed. I walk back into the bathroom and watch her put on some makeup, observing herself in the mirror. Her eyes travel from her face down to the V where her top button meets her scar.
“No one can see it,” I promise. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror. “And it wouldn’t matter if they could.”
“I know, but I don’t want to encourage questions. They may be well-intentioned, but how boring would that be to have people constantly asking, ‘What happened?’” She uses her best American accent, which sounds like a whiny teenager.
“You’re going to get tired of hiding it. You’ll see. Let people ask questions. The attention will be short-lived, and then life will go on.”
“If you think so, then I officially designate you as the person to handle all inquiries.”
“My pleasure. And by the way, you don’t need all that makeup.”
“I look a little washed out and tired because you always keep me up too late. I have bags under my eyes. A little concealer and blush are necessary.”
I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her. We both watch this in the mirror: how we look together, how we fit.
“You’re beautiful without that stuff. But I’m not going to tell you what to do.”
She laughs, and I feel it reverberate against my chest. “You always tell me what to do. You love telling people what to do.”
I hug her tighter, bending down to kiss her cheek. I want to hold on to this image of us, and I want her to see it and feel it the way I do.
“Peyton.” She turns around in my arms and faces me. “I really can’t go with you to get Finn. I know you have these big ideas in that head of yours, but you’re wrong about this. I can’t go.”
“I don’t understand. I thought you were spending the day with us. I have something special planned.”
“I am, but I can’t go to Harmony’s house. That’s too much too soon. It’s not fair to Harmony. She’s trying to build the connection between you and Finn. She doesn’t need to see me with you, not when you’re at her home. And it’s only going to confuse Finn. If he sees me at the restaurant or at your home occasionally, that’s one thing. But he may think I’m going to be something like his stepmother or something.”
“I think you’re making too much out of this. Harmony and I are not rekindling a relationship that never even existed. I’m sure she’s dating, and I’m sure Finn has met some of those men or boyfriends in the past.”
“You don’t know that.”
I let her have the last word.
• • •
By the time I get to Harmony’s house, Finn is bouncing a basketball outside, and his overnight bag is sitting on the front stoop. He waves as I pull into the driveway, and I think how lucky I am that I’m getting to know my kid when he’s at an age where dads still seem important and ideal to them. If he were already a teenager, he would have pent-up resentment and indifference I’d have to contend with, stuff that can weaken even the sturdiest of people.
Harmony emerges from the house, dressed casually, but she still comes across as elegant as she strides toward me. “He’s all set and has been ready to go since six this morning,” she says and raises her eyebrows in amusement.
We watch as Finn runs to the back of my truck, opens the hatch, and throws his duffel bag inside. Then he slams it closed and runs to the front passenger side with his basketball. My heart
swells as I watch him settle into his seat.
“That makes two of us,” I tell Harmony. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week. Thank you.”
Harmony regards me for a moment, then lets out a nervous exhale. “We’ve never really been separated, you know. Occasionally, he’d spend the night at a friend’s house, but he was never more than five minutes away from me. This is different. Exciting for him. A little scary for me.”
“I’ll take good care of him.”
“I know you will.”
If you’re so sure of that, why did you keep him away from me all these years?
I nod. There’s nothing I can say without sounding angry. My feelings for Finn are real and easy to define. My whole being reacts when he’s around or even when I think of him. It’s everything any parent must have—love with a heavy dose of worry. But Harmony is another issue altogether.
Once I’m in my truck with Finn, I’m at ease again. I’m the only parent, and I’m not looking over my shoulder, wondering if Harmony is judging me.
Finn fiddles with the stereo until he finds a radio station that plays typical bubble gum music. I’m about to suggest we use playlists from my phone, but he’s already enjoying the shrill voice of a teenage pop singer. It makes me feel old, but this kind of compromise is one of the many aspects of parenting, right?
“Are we going to your house or the restaurant first?” he asks.
“Someplace else, buddy. I have a surprise for you. We have to pick up Talia first. Then the big surprise.”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“Well …” I’m at a loss as to how to explain my relationship with Talia without the X-rated version of it.
“She seems like your girlfriend.”
I stare at the road ahead as I contemplate that one. I sense my mini-me watching me, waiting for my response. I give up.
How do you tell your kid about your confusing feelings for a woman who wants you for sex and whose life plan is on a different trajectory than yours? You don’t.
“We spend a lot of time together.”
“She’s nice, and I bet you don’t fight with her like my mom and Derek used to.”
“Derek?”
“My mom’s old boyfriend back in Seattle. They used to argue all the time about every little thing. It sucked.”
“Really?” Harmony dating piques my interest. I wonder what kind of guy she thinks is good stepfather material for Finn.
“Yeah. Once they were arguing really loudly at a movie theater, so we all had to leave. It was my turn to pick the movie. I was really mad at them. And once, they had a huge argument at one of my favorite restaurants. They ruined my birthday dinner.”
“Sorry, Finn. That does really suck. No other way to put it.
“I guess you could say Talia and I may disagree sometimes, but we don’t fight like that. But then, I’m not officially her boyfriend.”
“What does that mean?” He looks at me, perplexed.
“It means our expectations are lower.”
Finn shakes his head, confused, and I don’t bother trying to explain the inane complexities of adults.
“I wasn’t really prepared for questions. I assume most kids want to see their parents together, and this has to be weird for you.”
“Mom said you were never her boyfriend.” His bluntness surprises me. “I already know you guys had sex once, and then I came along.”
“Wow. Your mother sure didn’t sugarcoat that story. Does it bother you? How we …? How you … happened?”
“No. I only know my mom’s side, though. She got pregnant when she was a teenager—I did the math—and then she moved to Seattle with her dad. We had to live with Grandpa so Mom could go to college and raise me. She didn’t tell me very much about you. Sometimes I thought about what it would be like to meet you.”
I glance over at him. He’s got one of those sweet, innocent expressions as if he’s trying to assuage my remorse and shame. I want to apologize over and over for missing the first decade of his life.
“I’m here now. It’s the best I can do, Finn. I’m here now.”
The rest of the drive is what I expected—bright and sunny with not too much traffic on the interstate. I let Finn blast the stereo beyond respectable sound levels, to the point where my ears are ringing with music I would never listen to unless under court order. When we arrive at Talia’s house, I’ve accepted the fact that I’m going to be a pushover with this kid.
“Hey!” Talia smiles as she runs out of the house to greet us. Mila waves from the doorway.
“Hi!” Finn says and follows my cue, jumping out of the truck.
“Do we have time to introduce Finn to my mom?” Talia asks as she approaches.
“We have time. I want Mila to meet him. Come on.” I signal to Finn.
He half-runs, half-walks in that funny, energized way young kids move.
He indulges me when I introduce him as my “whiz kid,” and Mila is delighted when he thanks her for the party cakes. I’m scoring points with the mother that I’m trying to impress the most, and it’s not Harmony. Sounds shitty to say, but Harmony is stuck with me as Finn’s dad, so I’m not too concerned about winning her over. Mila, on the other hand, has great influence over Talia, and I want her on my side.
Talia and her mother share an appreciative smile over Finn.
Good, but not a checkmate. Yet.
I don’t know where I’m going with this. These people and this situation aren’t aligned with my original goal, which I’m not about to give up. I haven’t figured it out, but I’ll make this work.
“Ready for an adventure?” I say when we are back at the truck.
“Yeah! You can have the front seat, Talia.” Finn holds the door open for her. I have to give credit to Harmony for his good manners.
“No, no. I’m sitting in back. This is your day. You get the front.” She eagerly climbs in the back, and I observe her in the rearview mirror. She has her hair in that messy bun on top of her head. A short, blue velvet jacket shows off her eyes, but it’s the red lipstick that makes me stare. She could be dressed to go teach nursery school and she would look sexy as hell.
These heart-pounding, good feelings are too much. Between Talia and Finn, these two could give me a heart attack.
There it is again. When I was planning my big career move, I wasn’t a parent, and I wasn’t interested in any woman beyond sex. I’d be lying if I said these two people don’t have an effect on me.
“I meant to ask you, Peyton.” Talia leans forward between Finn and me. “I left my bike at Swill yesterday. I parked it by the back door like I always do, but when I returned after my deliveries, I couldn’t find it. You don’t think it was stolen, do you?”
“No, it wasn’t stolen,” I say dryly.
“Well, where is it? Did you move it?”
“It’s in Huffy heaven.”
“No! You didn’t.” She glares at me in the rearview mirror.
“It’s not like I shot Old Yeller.”
“Who?” both Talia and Finn inquire.
“He’s a dog. From an old movie.”
“I don’t have a dog,” Talia says, veering off topic in that way she has when meanings get lost in translation.
“Trust me on this one,” I say as we enter the town of Woodstock. It’s larger than Hera but still small and charming and certainly more famous.
Talia narrows her eyes at me in the rearview mirror. “I can’t believe you got rid of my bike.”
“It was a danger to you and society.”
“Oh, man,” Finn says when Talia playfully punches my shoulder.
“Have some patience.” I smile. “I have a surprise for both of you.”
“Finn, see that old building, the one with charred windows?” Talia points.
“The one with the construction guys in front?” Finn asks.
“It has a missing roof. Hard to miss,” I add.
“That’s the one,” she says. “That’s wher
e my kitchen is—was. I’ll have to call the landlord to see how the renovation is coming along.” Her eyes never leave the destroyed building as we drive by.
“The roof hasn’t been replaced, so I don’t think they’ve made enough progress for you to even consider working there again.” I don’t want her leaving Swill, not yet.
“They’ll get it done. I’ll have my kitchen back … eventually. Anyway, where are you taking us?”
“Here we are.” I pull the truck over to park by an array of colorful, shiny bicycles all lined up outside the bike shop.
“A bicycle store?” Talia asks.
“Cool,” Finn says, checking out the bikes on display.
“You both need new bikes.” I get out of the truck and walk around to the front, where Finn excitedly meets me. Talia follows behind, a little reluctant and wary, giving the new bikes a distrustful look.
The store manager I met with the other day steps outside when he sees us. “Hey, Peyton. So these are our two new riders?”
“Talia, Finn, this is Raoul. He’s going to hook you up with your new bikes.”
“Wow!” Finn smiles at me.
“I’m going to bring your bikes out here. The store is kind of a tight squeeze,” Raoul says before disappearing back into the shop.
“Yeah, wow,” Talia mumbles, and I detect her nervousness.
“It’s just a bike, sunflower. It’s safer than your old one.” I raise my chin toward the door where Raoul and an assistant are wheeling two new bikes out.
“Isn’t this a little extravagant?” she whispers to me. “Not for Finn, but for me?”
“I wanted to get you a new bike. I’m not plying you with diamonds or anything like that. It’s a bike.”
“These are expensive.”
“It’s a gift. You’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, looking anxiously at the bike Raoul walks toward her.
“You get the Kona Rove,” he says. “It’s pretty awesome on these roads. And this one is extra special because Peyton had one of our local artists give it a coat of powder-blue paint for you.”
“It’s so pretty,” Talia gushes. “My favorite blue.” She takes the handlebars and admires her bike.
