by Marr, Maggie
The cancellation notice for Tara’s wedding. Does she know these will hit guests’ mailboxes today? Has she heard from friends and family and everyone else she invited, or is there silence? Deafening silence, like after a horrible loss or tragedy? That silence is worse than the all the initial noise. With Susie, the first seven days were cacophonous, but then I came home to complete and total silence.
I get off the elevator, but instead of turning to my door, I stop in front of Tara’s. I lift my hand to knock. I pause. I stop.
What am I doing? My life is exactly the same as it was the night I declined her invitation to come in. Nothing’s changed. What can I say to Tara? Why would I complicate feelings that already seem complicated enough by actually going to her door the day I receive notice her wedding’s been cancelled? My hand drops to my side and I start to turn toward my own door when Jango barks.
The door opens. Tara’s face is beautiful despite her puffy red eyes. She forces a smile my direction. She’s fighting back tears. By the look on her face, she’s fought them all day.
“Hey, I just wanted to stop by—”
Her gaze drops to the pile of mail in my hand, with the opened wedding cancellation notice on top. She plucks it from my hand.
“I haven’t seen them. My mother took care of it.” She reads the postcard-sized correspondence, then turns it over and examines the back. “I’m surprised she sprang for the expensive paper.” Her attempt at a joke falls flat.
“Sucky day,” I say, because I can’t really think of much more than that.
“Sucky day,” she whispers. I glance at Jango, who nudges Tara’s hand with her snout. She, too, must realize what a horrible day Tara is having. The corner of the right side of Tara’s mouth lifts as she strokes Jango’s head. “Haven’t seen you around lately.”
My chest tightens. I clear my throat. “Busy with work.”
She nods. “Okay, well I’ve got to take Jango for her walk—”
“I’m going to watch my niece later, want to come?” The words blurt from my mouth before the idea hits my brain. Funny how I know just exactly what to say to heartbroken women. Damn. The offer is out now, can’t retract it. “Might be better than hanging out alone. I know Lily would love to meet Jango.” I squat down and put a hand on either side of Jango’s face. We both look up at Tara as though begging for permission.
“How can I say no to those two faces?” She nearly smiles . . . nearly, but not quite. That’s okay, because I know the combo of Lily and Jango and, yes, even me will get Tara out of this funk. How could it not?
* * *
“You brought my daughter a dog.” My sister hisses under her breath. She’s all decked out in a blue dress and high heels and makeup and jewelry.
“I didn’t get Lily a dog. I brought Tara, and she brought her dog.”
“This doesn’t help me, okay? Lily is after me for a dog and—”
“And I think she’s right, every kid should have a dog.”
“I don’t have time for a dog. I barely have time to shave my legs.”
I get it. Big sis’s life is full to the top. Seriously, if I had all her responsibilities my head would explode. Nope. I’ll simply keep my life to sex and no commitments.
“Then let Lily enjoy Tara’s.” Rachel’s gaze slides toward the living room, where Tara is showing Lily all Jango’s tricks.
“What’s going on there?”
“Nothing. Friends.”
“Really?”
“I have no desire to get involved.”
“Fair enough, but do you have any desire to—”
I hold up my hand. “I know we’re close, and sometimes you forget I’m not one of your girlfriends that you discuss every bit of their sex life with, but I’m not one of your girlfriends, so even if I was having a physical relationship with Tara, which I’m not, I wouldn’t tell you. Not interested.”
“Bullshit. You’re interested.
I take a long breath. “Okay, who wouldn’t be interested? She’s smart and beautiful and engaging, but from a personal standpoint, the one that involves what happened to my fiancée, I’m absolutely not interested. Can’t be. We’re friends.”
“Friends?” My sister laughs as though I’ve just told her the best joke ever. “Men and women can’t be friends. Especially if they’re attracted to each other.”
She might be right, but I’m not ready to admit that yet. Besides, Rachel is too used to always being right.
“She’d be perfect for you, in about six months. She needs time to get past the asshole.”
“That’s why I invited her. The wedding cancellation card arrived today.”
My sister’s teasing face crumples, replaced by a sincere look of sadness for Tara. “That sucks. Is there anything I can do?”
“I think we’re doing it.”
In the other room, Tara laughs. Lily tells Jango to roll over, and she does. Lily claps with glee.
“You’re a good man, Jake Reynolds.” My sister squeezes my arm for an instant. “Look at you, killing it with the ladies. Making all four of us women happy.”
Again the warmth in my chest. Because, yeah, big sis is right. By babysitting Lily and bringing Tara over, I’ve made both my niece and big sis happy. I know Jango’s over the moon, and Tara? I focus on her face. Her eyes aren’t swollen anymore, and the blotchy red patches on her cheeks and nose are gone. Her I’m-about-to-cry face has been replaced with a smile and even a laugh as she chats with Lily about Jango.
Tara’s gaze darts toward me and her smile grows bigger.
Heat bursts through my chest. Tara is my friend and my neighbor. Any good neighbor would do what I did, right? You help out your neighbor when you know they’re sad or upset or in need. That’s what I did. I helped out my neighbor.
Fuck. Then why does my chest pulse with this fucking joy and a hint of need?
I redirect my attention and the conversation back to my sister. “Are you going with Alan?”
“Shh.” Rachel does a quick head check toward the living room. According to big sis, Lily isn’t supposed to know about Alan, the guy she’s had a couple dates with—at least, not until Lily’s left for college. “We’re meeting there,” she says under her breath. She reaches for a glass of white wine and drains it.
“What’s the award?”
“Jurist of the year,” she says. She puts the wineglass in the dishwasher. “Really, I think it’s because they needed to give it to a woman, not because I’m any great judge.” She turns to me. I know this isn’t true. My sister is a great judge. She takes her work, her career, her decisions very seriously.
“I’m going now.” Rachel throws a shawl over her shoulders, picks up her clutch, and walks toward the living room. “Lily, be good for Uncle Jake and Tara.”
Lily walks to Rachel and gives her a kiss. “You look beautiful, Mama.”
My tough big sis almost crumbles into tears. “Have fun this afternoon.” She turns to me. “The birthday gift is on the dining room table. Seriously, just one hour. They know you’re doing me a favor by bringing her by and won’t be offended.”
One of Lily’s little friends from preschool is turning five, and we’re required to attend the late-afternoon party. Part of the babysitting gig. What single guy doesn’t want to spend an afternoon with twenty five-year-old kids?
* * *
“Do I know you?” A voice coos in my ear as I take off Lily’s shoe so she can join her best buddy Ava in the bouncy house. I turn toward the voice. Yes, yes, you do know me. I’ve slipped those nipples pressing against your cotton top between my lips.
“Afraid we haven’t met. I’m just the uncle.”
I stand and glance past the woman who I wonderfucked about three times two years ago. Lily bounces with Ava. Tara wanted a soda and had headed toward the stand on the far side of the yard. Without a glance toward the woman—whose name I can no longer recall—I walk toward the soda fountain. I glance back at Lily, who is smiling and bouncing.
; “I got you a water.” Tara hands me a bottle and I take a long pull. I finally glance back at the spot where . . . was her name Kendall? Or Candy? I can’t remember a name, but a face and a rack? Those are indelibly marked in my brain—Kendall, her name was Kendall, and she no longer stands beside the bouncy house. Maybe she decided I wasn’t the right guy, maybe she thinks I have a doppelganger, maybe she can’t remember after two years. Maybe . . . maybe . . . she doesn’t want to relive the past. I don’t.
I survey the giant yard that is made up to look like a carnival, including a ferris wheel, an elephant, a monkey, a bouncy house, and a magician.
“I don’t mind the five-year-olds,” I tell Tara. “It’s the parents that scare me.”
Tara smiles, one of a handful of real smiles today. Together we walk toward the bouncy house, where Lily and her BFF Ava are giggling and shrieking.
“It makes me happy to see them laugh.” Tara slides her gaze toward me. “Thanks for bringing me too.”
“Can’t imagine a better companion for a birthday party.” I look toward the clown, who’s turning a long skinny balloon into a dog. Kendall stands beside a boy who looks just like her, only younger. Her son, I’d guess. On the other side of the boy is a guy. His legs are spread and his arms crossed. He wears aviator shades and has kind of an I’m-king-of-the-world asshole stance to him.
Hmmm . . . some of Kendall’s story is coming back. Separated. Nearly divorced. Husband had an affair. Wonder if this is the same guy? Or if she just has the ability to pick assholes. Some women do. Asshole is simply their preferred type.
“Do you know her?”
“She looks like someone I knew a couple years ago.” Not completely true and not completely a lie. I glance into Tara’s eyes. There’s that pain again, the sadness that Douchenugget caused.
Ava and Lily slip out of the bouncy house.
“We want to go on the ferris wheel!”
Tara and I follow the two happy giggle-boxes toward the line.
“I’m getting another water, anything for you?” I ask.
“I’ll monitor the troops.” I flash her a thank-you smile. I need to make a detour to the restroom, so I head toward the back door into the enormous house and walk down the far hall, where our hostess had directed us earlier when Lily had to go. No line. I head into the bathroom and do my deal. I’ve washed my hands and move to open the door when the lights go off.
“What the fuck?”
“It is you.”
A hand slides around my waist, drifts to the front of my jeans, and grabs for my cock. I’m hard in an instant.
“I’ve missed your cock.”
She pulls at my shirt. Her hand glides over the muscles of my belly to my chest.
My head swoons. Physical touch. Want. Need. Sex. All of it a drug, an elixir that sinks me fast.
“Still amazing.” Her hands move to my belt, and that motion rips me from the pleasure of touch. I grab her hand.
“We can’t do this.”
“Oh yes we can,” she says, trying for my belt again.
“No,” I say, my voice firm but not cold. I understand desire and the need for a physical connection. “I won’t do this now.” I flip on the bathroom light.
Her shoulders drop and she stares at the floor, as though my words have destroyed her. Slowly she raises her head and her brown eyes meet mine.
“I went back to him . . . I thought we could fix it, that he wanted to fix it, but it’s the same.” Her expression is flat, lifeless, defeated. “So much of the same.”
“I’m sorry.”
She nods, covering her mouth with her hand as though forcing herself not to cry, but to remain stoic. Panic in her eyes, as though she is a woman drowning. A woman nearing the edge. A woman without hope.
“I just . . . I don’t know what to do.”
I nod. This is deeper than something sex can fix. This is pain and heartbreak and a trade people make with themselves when they decide to stay with a person they no longer love for the sake of money, or stability, or children. For whatever reason they think is better than their own happiness. And those reasons aren’t better or more noble, because sometimes the decision to pursue your own happiness is the most noble pursuit of all.
Tears roll down her cheeks and I pluck two tissues from the box on the counter.
“Thank you.” She takes one of the tissues from me and turns toward the mirror. “You’re the only bright spot I’ve had in the last two years.” She attempts to fix her makeup. She glances in the reflection at me. “Are you here with your wife?” Her tone is suddenly icy, and her face looks hard.
“Not married.” Her sudden anger melts away. “My niece and a friend.” I fix her gaze with mine. My cover has been blown. Completely blown. She could seriously mess up my life right now if she wanted. “Do you think we could—”
She smiles and tosses the used tissue into the trash can. “Your secret is safe with me.” There’s an edge to her smile, though, a desperation and a sadness that make little alarms go off in my head.
“Thank you, Kendall,” I say, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
She sighs. A flash of our time together. She is a soft woman filled with need, who liked to be made love to in a gentle way. There was something sad in her bottomless want that I, through physical intimacy, would never be able to fill.
“You go first,” she says.
I pull open the door. There is no one in the hall, and I slip away from Kendall and from the possibility of my two lives colliding.
Chapter 12
Did she have fun?” My sister whispers to me as she exits Lily’s bedroom.
“I think so. She bounced forever. There was a ferris wheel and pony rides and—”
“They had a ferris wheel?” My sister raises an eyebrow. “Unbelievable, those people.” She walks down the hallway toward the stairs. She pauses on the landing. In the living room Tara sits with Jango’s head on her lap. Tara stares into the distance, stroking her pup’s head. “How’d that go?” Big sis whispers and I know she’s not discussing the dog or Lily.
“I hate seeing her sad,” I finally say, which is lame in comparison to everything I’m thinking when it comes to Tara. But I don’t have the luxury of always saying what I think. Sometimes I don’t say anything at all.
“Such an asshole, to have an affair while he’s engaged.”
“It wasn’t an affair. He was fucking a colleague.”
My sister whips her face toward me. Her eyes filled with fire. “How is that not an affair?”
I sigh. I know that by the female definition, banging a hot piece of ass on your desk is an affair, but by the male standard, that’s simply rubbing one out. It’s a tough transition for a man, and some can never cross over to the female definition. Some men really don’t ever understand how fucking a piece of strange is cheating. I won’t win this disagreement, nor do I want to. I understand the definition. I understand how any sex with a woman other than the one you’ve committed to is a betrayal. I get how when a man fucks a woman other than the one he’s made a commitment to and she finds out, that his decision strikes at the very core of a woman’s identity.
But truly, women shouldn’t give our cocks that much power over their self-worth because, well, our cocks? Not so smart. Bad choices. No brain involved.
“You’re right. She seemed happy today.”
Rachel walks down the stairs and Tara glances up. She replaces her thoughtful look with a smile as we enter the room. She stands up and picks up her jacket and her purse, holding Jango’s leash in one hand.
“You survived a five-year-old birthday party.”
“I did.” Tara says. “It was fun. Lily was so good. Jake even knew a couple of people there.”
Ice drips through my belly. My gaze shifts from Tara to Rachel.
“You did? Who?” Big sis asks, now obviously curious. The parent set is not my group, and I don’t hang out at Lily’s school enough to know anyone.
“I . . . I’m not s
ure.” I shake my head. “I mean, maybe I know—”
“The blonde.”
“Which blonde? Sheila Martin or Janelle, or Carol, or Kendall or—my God, we’re in Southern California. I think all of Lily’s classmates have moms with blonde hair except me.”
“She has brown eyes, and I think a little boy,” Tara says.
“That must be Kendall Prescott. Her husband is some hedge fund manager.”
Tara looks at me and so does big sis, both of them seeking confirmation that I understand which woman they’re discussing. And I do. I know exactly which woman they’ve identified. I even know how Kendall shrieks when she comes.
“She was wearing white jeans,” Tara continues. “She spoke to me later in the day, and I thought she said—” My look must convey my discomfort, because Tara suddenly stops talking. For a second her eyebrows lift, and then she says, “My mistake.” Tara shifts her purse strap up higher on her shoulder. “I probably just assumed he knew everyone because he’s Lily’s uncle and always speaks to people.” She turns to Rachel and pushes a smile onto her face. “I’m much shyer by nature.”
My sister crinkles her eyebrows and glances from Tara to me, but says nothing. She puts a hand against the wall and slips her feet from her high heels. A look of relief floods her face.
“I suppose Lily ate nothing but junk.” Big sis gives me the side-eye.
“That’s what uncles are for, but she did have a turkey hot dog halfway through the party. After the bouncy house.”
“Smart man. Thank you.” Rachel places a kiss on my cheek and we all walk to the front door. “Don’t forget you’re with Mom next Friday.” She thanks both of us, and then Tara and I are on the front steps, headed for home. I breathe in the cool evening air. I dodged a bullet tonight. Next time, I might not be so lucky. Next time, it might not miss.
* * *
“I need to give Jango a walk before I head up for the night.” Tara quickly cuts across the parking garage toward the locked gate and I hustle up behind her. She stops and turns to me. “You don’t need to come with me. I walk her every evening.”
