by Crowe, Liz
I’m cooking tonight. Dinner is at 7. You bring the wine.
She waited a few minutes—a man who knew his way around a kitchen turned her on almost as much as a man with a talented tongue. She squeezed her thighs together, sighed and made a snap decision.
Sure. Sounds good. See you then.
Blake chose that moment to call.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Not much. You heard from Mom today?”
“Uh, no, why?” She felt a knot forming in her gut at the thought of Blake having to ask her that question.
“Oh, no reason really. I haven’t talked to her in about a week, which is weird, so I wondered if you had.”
Sara thought a moment.
“I actually did talk to her almost exactly a week ago. She was fine. Dad was fine, but bitching about taking his heart pills or some shit. I think it makes him impotent. Ha! The irony.”
Their father had been a serial cheater for as long as Sara had been aware of such things. It boggled her mind that her mother, such a smart, beautiful doctor, would put up with his nonsense for so long. Anxiety pinged her consciousness, as she remembered how Blake had reminded her of this the night she’d broken it off with Jack.
“Okay, well, I’ll let you go…” he trailed off. Sara knew he wanted to say something else.
“What’s wrong?” She had a ton of stuff to do but didn’t want him to think she wouldn’t listen.
“What? I’m fine,” he said. “Except, well, I don’t want to bother you with this. I know you have your own issues.”
“Jesus H. Christ, Blake! Since when have you ever been a burden to me? All I ever do is cry to you about my love life.” She put the phone on her shoulder and checked her email—full, as usual.
“Oh hell, it’s just a fucking mess.”
“What is?” she asked, knowing full well what it was, but wanting him to tell her himself.
“Look, I really have to go,” he insisted.
She could hear someone calling his name out in the brewery so decided not to press it. He’d let her know when he was ready.
“Okay, but I should let you know about my new man sometime.” She smiled into the phone.
“Oh, I already know.” He laughed, and she felt her tension release. It was no good when her brother was unhinged about something. That was her job. “Everybody does! Including you-know-who, and he’s the only one who isn’t really happy for you.” He hung up.
She stared at the phone. Why in the hell she couldn’t just have a private life, she had no idea. She wouldn’t deny that she enjoyed being the center of attention. She was fine with that, but the fact that so many people had already made up their minds about what her life should be grated on her nerves like never before.
Suddenly gripped with a strange compulsion, she quickly dialed “Mom” and tapped her fingers on the desk waiting for her to answer. She’d never been that close to her parents, but all the craziness going on in her love life lately made her want to ask her mother a question.
“Hi, honey!”
Sara smiled, soothed in the way of daughters by mothers, despite disagreements and past clashes. “Hey, Mom. Um, you busy?”
“No, I don’t have to be down at the clinic for another half an hour.” Sara leaned back in her chair. Retirement for her mother had meant diving into volunteerism and then founding a clinic to serve poor women’s health needs in the scary inner city somewhere, nowhere near her expensive beachside condo.
It was much to her father’s early chagrin, but once he realized the only way he’d see his wife would be to help, he’d jumped in with both feet. Now they both worked nearly as much as they once did, gratis.
“Okay.” Sara suddenly had no words for what she needed to know. She bit her lip.
“What is it, Sara?” Her mother had been her first example of getting right to the point. “Blake okay? I know he’s having some trouble with Rob. And I hear you have a new boyfriend. How exciting!”
“If you hadn’t married Daddy…” she began, and then started over. “I know you told me once there was another, different guy. Why… oh hell.” She put a hand over her face.
Her mother stayed quiet. Sara felt herself getting aggravated by it. She pulled herself together. “Why did you stay with him, Mom? I mean, Jesus, he… I caught him, remember?”
“Sara, you can’t equate the choices I made with anything you’re going through right now. It’s not fair to… well, to anyone.”
“I know how you all feel about Jack.” She let defensiveness creep into her tone and hated it.
“No, you don’t. I’ll admit that your dad doesn’t like him and the reasons for that probably lie in the similarities in their personalities. But women who bitch and moan that their lives are ruined because they married their fathers are just making excuses, I think.”
“But… why?”
“I love your father, Sara. I always have. We’ve split up three times, including that last time when he acted like such an idiot and you had to see it. We stayed apart a long time then, remember?”
“Yeah. Hard to forget it, frankly.”
“Exactly. Since you were only sixteen, I didn’t feel a need to share with you or Blake how we had resolved it. I should have. That’s my fault and probably set you both up for failure in relationships.” Sara let a tear slip down her cheek at the sound of her mother’s deep sigh from so many miles away.
“No, no, it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. Listen, you have to wrap your head around the fact that people are not perfect. No man is without his flaws. There is something very, very real that happens between two people. Blake has it with Rob. You—well, shit, Sara, you want me just to come out and say it, I will.” Sara shook her head, even though no one could see her.
“No, Mom, I probably don’t want you to but I think you are, anyway.” Her heart pounded in her chest and she held the phone in a death grip to her ear.
“Jack loves you, honey. I know it. You know it. He’s not perfect but… you’re so unhappy when you aren’t together. You should let that tell you something.”
“But he’s… I mean, I’m ready to kill him half the time when we are together.” She knew she sounded lame.
“And the other half?”
Sara slumped back in her seat. “This is not what I needed to hear today.”
“Then why did you call me? You need a reality check, Sara. Blake’s been filling your ear with bad stuff about Jack, jeopardizing his own relationship by being overprotective. I told him that. You need to hear something else for a change. Jack is not your father. You are not me. You two owe it to yourselves to at least talk, like adults, about…”
“No. Mom. I’m not. I can’t. I have…”
“I know, I know. Blake thinks this other guy is perfect. Whatever. Please realize something though, honey. You should never measure your happiness by what your friends and family think. Only you hold that ruler. If you want to be married, or not. A businesswoman, or not. It’s all your call and no one else’s.”
“But—” Sara let a familiar anger at her mother’s natural tendency to take over, to tell her things she didn’t want to hear, surge through her.
“No buts. Get back together with Jack, or don’t. But do not lay this at your father’s feet. That’s a cop-out. You’re too smart and strong for that kind of nonsense. I won’t allow it.”
“Fine.” She stood, needing something to do with her nervous energy.
“I gotta go, honey. Dad’s waiting in the car. He’s taken this clinic thing on in such a huge way. It’s exhausting. But, it’s better than endless rounds of golf, trust me. I was gonna kill him if I had to do any more of that.”
“Mom?” Sara’s voice broke as she dropped back into her chair.
“Yes?”
“Never mind.”
“Sara, please don’t do that. I raised you to be straightforward. If you have a question—”
“What the hel
l do I do now, then? If you’re so smart about it. Jesus. I love him. I hate him. I can’t live without him. I have a goddamned hole in my chest all day, every day. He wants me to trust him. And I can’t. Craig is… he’s great, but, I can’t do it, Mom. Jack absorbs me. It’s terrifying.”
“No, honey. It’s just love. You have to make up your mind if you’re ready for it. Not Blake’s mind. Not my mind. Your mind. I’m sorry I wasn’t more honest with you guys when your dad and I finally resolved our issues. That probably would have helped. Let’s just say relationships worth having take work. Gotta go. Call me later. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Sara whispered into the dead air after her mother ended the call.
A quick glance at her computer brought a flush to her skin when she saw an email from [email protected] with “offer” in the subject line. Her body betrayed her at the sight of it. Every inch of her skin broke out in goosebumps, and she had to bite her lip to restrain a wide, idiotic smile.
An offer from Jack, eh? Well, that will make things interesting. She clicked to open the email.
Sure enough, it was an offer on one of her oldest listings and a pretty solid one at that. She called her seller and went through the details while she sent Jack an email acknowledgement at the same time. Counter offer in place, she called Jack.
“Hi,” he answered, and she could hear a commotion in the background that sounded like kids yelling.
“Hey, um, thanks for the offer.”
He remained silent.
“We have a counter, but I think your buyer will like it.”
“I’m listening,” he stated, over a fresh round of squealing.
“Where the hell are you, Jack? A Justin Bieber concert?” She was irritated by his nonchalance and knew she had no reason to be.
“No, I’m not. So what’s the counter?” he asked.
“Okay, so we are countering…”
He cut her off.
“No Sara, you are not countering. Your sellers are countering. You’re just representing them.” He sighed. “God, you never listen, do you?”
She felt herself tensing up. He had said this before—and he was right. She tended to insert herself as a partner with her clients, which is not how the Stewarts trained them. They were to remain apart, professional, a representing agent and all that.
She cleared her throat and started over. “My sellers are countering with three seventy-five to your offer of three sixty—and will give possession at closing, no need for a rent back. They agree to all your other terms but I want to know more about this lender—since when do you let anyone borrow money off the internet, Jack?”
“Yeah, I know but I’ve actually talked to a person at this outfit and she swears they’re legit, so take it or leave it I guess.” His voice became muffled then and she realized he’d put the phone down to talk to someone else. She tapped her foot.
“Well?” she asked. “Can you make three seventy-five work? I mean, the place would easily appraise for four hundred and you and I both know it.”
“Yeah. You’re right,” he said. She had to admit, hearing his voice calmed her in ways she had forgotten.
“What’s the status of the building?” She leaned back, wanting to keep his voice in her ear a bit longer.
“All systems stop and go as usual. Plumbing contractor quit after I caught his flunkies stealing a bunch of copper so that was a good day. The electricians work an average of two-point-five hours a day with four breaks for meals and smokes. I know. I’ve clocked them. It’s a nightmare. Thanks for asking.” She grinned at his tone. God, she missed him.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed onward, without being sure why, but needing to say it, her mother’s words ringing around in her brain.
“I miss you.”
He snorted. “Funny way of showing it.” She frowned, as her face heated up in a way only he could provoke.
“How’s Heather?” She bit her lip at the frosty silence on the other end, not even fully understanding why she would ask such a stupid question.
“About as good as that blonde kid, I’d say. They’re both putting up with us.”
“Yeah. Somebody has to, I guess. Since we can’t.”
“Yeah.” The silence spooled out, strangely comfortable. Sara sighed.
“Well, I’ll let you go.”
“Wait. Sara. I…” She sat up, swallowed hard and had the bright and brittle realization that if he asked, she’d go to him. No questions asked. Her chest tightened. She needed him, his words, his touch, his presence. Needed him. Period.
The pause lasted way too long to be polite. She felt her ire rising. Not at him, but at herself for going here, again, with a man who seemed to bring out both her best and her worst.
“I should go, Jack. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Like what, baby? Like that you miss me?” She started to protest but he cut her off. “Don’t say a word. Just listen a minute, if you can. I miss you, too, like a fucking phantom limb. Do you understand? You are a crucial, functioning part of me, and always will be. But I get it. I’m a shit. I won’t deny it. But I’ll never, ever be happy or complete without you.”
She sucked in a breath.
Her natural reaction won out and she winced even as she spoke. “Wow, Jack, been watching Oprah or something?” His bitter laugh brought sudden tears to her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Who’s the shit now, huh?”
“Yeah. We’re quite the pair.”
His voice went muffled again but she could hear him speaking to someone else.
“That’s fine, babe. I’ll see you at home later.”
Her brain processed that he must be with Heather somewhere. He had just said “see you at home…” Her face flushed hotter and she stood, ready to end the scary conversation now.
“Sorry, Sara, I just…” he trailed off. “Oh hell, never mind.”
“Uncle Jack! Uncle Jack!” she heard distinctly.
What the hell? It hit her that she still truly had no concept of his life outside of real estate and women.
“I gotta go. I’ll make the counter offer work. Bye.” He clicked off before she could say anything else.
She sat for a solid five minutes and stared at her phone, as if it would spill all the answers to her questions.
Uncle Jack?
She reminded herself to ask Rob more about Jack’s family. Now that the whole town knew she had moved on apparently, perhaps he wouldn’t be so pissed if she asked. His words clattered around in her brain like marbles. Her skin went hot and cold in turns as she replayed it again and again.
Her mother’s outburst of advice, telling her to realize that relationships meant work, rolled around in her memory. What the hell was that supposed to mean? She knew how to work. She simply didn’t trust this guy. Her mother had no idea what she was talking about.
Or did she?
She glanced at her watch and saw she only had about two hours to get home, fit in a run, clean up, and get over to Craig’s.
Craig.
She’d nearly forgotten about him.
“They’re putting up with us,” Jack had said about Heather and Craig. And he was right about that.
She took a deep, shuddering breath and headed to her car, remorse in her heart, tears in her eyes. Jack was right. She shouldn’t involve Craig any further in this. Poor guy. He had done nothing to deserve standing in between two of the most difficult humans on the planet as they played their stupid games, in an apparent attempt to destroy each other. It was a recipe for unhappiness for everyone. She squared her shoulders and wiped her eyes before pulling out into the evening traffic. She’d cut it off with him as soon as she got there.
* * *
“Hey, hold on there, buddy.” Jack swung the small boy up onto his shoulder, letting the girl clamber up his arm as they exited the playground. Their compact, warm bodies felt solid against his skin.
“Uncle Jack! Let’s play catch!” His niece dashed
toward the huge bag of stuff their mother had lugged to the park with them, and produced two kid-sized gloves and a ball. He grinned, dropped his nephew to the ground, and spent a blissful half hour tossing an oversized ball around, their four-year-old chatter filling the air, and his head with welcome distraction.
When he piled into the car, he kept the top down as they demanded, even though it threatened rain. After thoroughly ruining everyone’s dinner with giant scoops of Washtenaw Dairy ice cream, he tugged their floppy bodies from the car outside his house. His found his sister in the kitchen, tending to something that smelled delicious at his stove. He had his niece Ella in one arm and his nephew Adam clung to one leg.
“Toss them in the bathtub, throw some shampoo at them, and shut the door, quick,” she advised. He did, loving the easy way they chattered to him and made a mess of his huge Jacuzzi tub. He shut the door, as images of Sara here with him and their child giggling away in the tub nearly made him pass out with longing.
He leaned on the door a minute, getting his ping-ponging emotions under control. Mo, his sister, nearly seven years his junior, could read him like a book and he had no desire to discuss his failed relationship with her. He bounded down the steps, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and leaned against the counter. Maureen bustled around, putting out plates of homemade macaroni and cheese, grilled chicken, and salad. She hollered up the steps.
“Don’t drown in there or ruin Uncle Jack’s bathroom!” Squeals of laughter echoed down the stairwell. “They’re good for another hour at least. Sit. Eat. Talk to me.”
He watched as Maureen poured herself a glass of wine and sank into the chair opposite him. She and her family had come back for a few weeks to visit family, mostly her husband, Brandis’s, side. All she had left of the Gordon family now was Jack. He loved her and had been a solid big brother to her from the beginning, since their parents were more or less out of the picture, emotionally speaking, by the time she’d come along. Their mother had been a functional alcoholic, and their father… well, another story altogether. Jack grinned at his sister.
“Missed you.” He raised his glass.
“I thought I’d be attending a wedding on this trip. What the hell, Jack?” Cutting right to the chase, as usual.
