by Megan Hart
It was also a way to one-up Heath, something that only Polly didn’t guess. Heath knew it but visibly shrugged it off. Effie gave her mother a lifted eyebrow that she pretended not to see, but refusing would punish Polly, not Effie’s mom.
“Give me your things and I’ll take them home so you don’t have to worry about them,” Effie said, then to Heath, “Are you going to hang around a few minutes, or...?”
“I’ll wait until you get back. I want to tell my girl how great she was.” Heath hugged Polly, then ruffled her hair. From his inside jacket pocket, he pulled out a single, somewhat crushed, carnation. “Here, Wog. You should always get flowers after a performance.”
Oh. Flowers. Effie blinked at the sting of emotion and shot her mother a look that was far too triumphant to be appropriate. Polly was already heading down the narrow hallway to the band room, and Effie followed her through the throng of overexcited tweens. The noise level was insane. She waited while Polly gathered her stuff and piled it into her mother’s arms.
“Polly,” Effie said before her daughter could head back into the lobby. “I just wanted to tell you...you were amazing.”
“It was just a part in the chorus,” Polly said. “I messed up the one dance, too.”
“You were amazing,” Effie repeated.
Polly grinned and hugged her, squeezing too hard and crushing the book bag between them. Effie laughed. “Go on, so you’re not too late.”
A dark-haired girl wearing too much eye makeup even for the school musical paused as she passed them. “Are you going to Buster’s?”
“Yeah.” Polly paused. “You wanna come?”
The other girl smiled and nodded. “Yeah, sure, my mom said I could. I wasn’t going to, but...”
“Nah, you should come. Everyone’s going.” Polly waited until the girl had moved out of earshot, then gave Effie a long-suffering look. “Meredith.”
“Wow. I didn’t recognize her.”
“She stuffed her bra,” Polly said with an arch sniff that said exactly what she thought about that little trick.
Effie stopped herself from laughing, but only barely. Back in the lobby, she hugged her daughter goodbye, gave her mother some money to pay for the ice cream, despite Mom’s protests that she could cover it, and when they’d gone through the front doors toward the parking lot, Effie looked for Heath. The crowd had thinned drastically, and at six-five he usually stood head and shoulders over everyone else. He shouldn’t have been difficult to see. Maybe he’d left despite telling her he would wait.
Effie shrugged Polly’s book bag over her shoulder and patted her pockets to be sure she had her keys before heading out into the cold. She spotted Heath as soon as she came out the front doors. She should’ve known to look for him in the smoking area. “Oh, hey.”
He wasn’t alone. The blonde with him wore stiletto ankle boots with skinny jeans and an impossibly tight leather jacket that did not look very warm. It couldn’t have been, not by the way she shivered and shifted from foot to foot as she smoked. She tossed her hair when she saw Effie, but it took Heath a few seconds longer than that to turn.
“Hey,” Effie said again. “I’m heading out.”
“Hi, Effie. I’m Lisa. Collins? My son Kevin’s in Polly’s grade. He was the zookeeper.” The blonde stubbed out her cigarette and offered a hand that Effie took only because it would’ve seemed really antisocial to refuse.
“Oh. Right. Kevin. He was in Polly’s class last year. Mr. Binderman.” Effie had no recollection of ever meeting Lisa Collins before, but that didn’t mean anything. She gave Heath a curious look.
Heath shoved his hands into his back pockets and rocked a little on his heels, looking from Effie to Lisa and back again. Oh, Effie thought. Oh, shit.
“Hey, well, I’m going to get out of here. Thanks for coming to the show, I know Polly appreciated it.” Effie gave Lisa a nod and Heath a neutral look, then went to her car.
It took her a minute or so after putting the key in the ignition before she could force herself to pull out of the parking spot. She wasn’t trying to watch and see if Heath and Lisa left together. Definitely not. But if she drove slowly enough, she might be able to catch a...
No, Effie thought. Hell, no. You’re not going to be that kind of jealous bitch.
Heath had every right to flirt or date or fuck whomever he wanted. Effie had made that abundantly clear. It was not the first time he’d done it. There’d even been a girl named Theresa who, for a while, had been officially his girlfriend. She’d been decent to Polly and respectful without being obsequious or a bitch to Effie. She hadn’t lasted long, not even a year, and Effie had never asked what broke them up, but she hadn’t been sad to see her go.
Anyway, a pot could call a kettle any color it wanted to, but it would still be black. Effie and Heath were not together. She did not want them to be together, not like that. So good luck to Lisa, Effie thought and pulled into the line of cars leaving the parking lot. She made it all the way home without so much as a shaky tear or stifled sob. She even made it into the house.
There she poured herself a glass of white wine and leaned against the counter, waiting for the jealousy to hit her. It was going to. She deserved it to.
The back door opened before she had time to do more than take a few sips. Startled, Effie spilled the wine down the front of her shirt. “What the hell!”
“Sorry. I texted you. You didn’t answer.” Heath took the glass from her hand and drained it, then pinned her against the counter. “How long until your mom gets back with Polly?”
Effie put her hands flat on his chest to hold him off her. “Hey. You. No. This... No.”
He tried to kiss her, but she turned her face. He didn’t let that stop him. He licked her neck, then nibbled in the best way to get her shivering for him.
“Dammit, Heath,” Effie said. “What the hell...”
He laughed into her ear and moved away from her. “Your face. When you saw her. Your fucking face, Effie.”
At that, she was no longer jealous. Vindicated, though she’d never admit it. Also pissed, which she would.
“You’re an asshole,” she told him.
Heath frowned. “C’mon.”
In response, Effie went to the fridge to pour another glass of wine. She didn’t offer him one. With her back to him, she said, “Trying to make me jealous is an asshole thing to do.”
“You do it to me all the time.”
“No,” she said, spinning. “I don’t. I don’t try to make you jealous. I try to move on and live my fucking life, Heath, and be honest about it. There’s a goddamned difference.”
“I went out to smoke. She was there. She started flirting with me. She’s cute. I didn’t start it up to make you jealous. But did it?” He looked angry but also hopeful.
Effie sipped wine without an answer. She pushed past him and went down the hall into her bedroom, where she shut the door firmly behind her. Her hands were shaking, but she didn’t want him to see it. She put the glass on the dresser and unbuttoned her blouse, turning quickly when the bedroom door opened.
“I’m changing. Get out.”
“It’s not like I’ve never seen you naked,” Heath said in a low voice, still trying for humor, although he wasn’t laughing.
Effie paused, lifting her chin, her fingers no longer working the buttons. “I said get out.”
“If you want me to leave, I’ll go.” Heath’s gaze fell to the open V of her shirt, then moved to her eyes.
Effie scowled. Unbuttoning. One at a time, slowly, so slowly. “I said I wanted you to, didn’t I?”
She let the fabric fall off her shoulders, leaving her in the pretty A-line skirt with the vintage styling and her lacy push-up bra that was definitely of a more modern fashion. Without ever looking away from him, Effie tossed her shirt onto the
chair in the corner and put her hands on her hips. She drew in a breath, pushing out her tits and sucking in her gut. Cocked a hip.
“Get out,” she said. “I’m trying to take a shower.”
Heath didn’t move. She hadn’t really thought he would. Effie reached behind her to undo the zipper on her skirt. That joined the blouse so she stood in front of him in only her underwear.
“Get out,” she repeated one last time. “Or get on your knees.”
She knew which Heath would choose, yet still she held her breath until he dropped to his knees and slid across the hardwood floor to get himself in front of her. He could say no, one day. It could happen, but it had not happened now, and when he ran his fingertips up the backs of her calves and thighs, Effie shifted her stance to give him ample access to the heat between her legs.
The sound of voices stopped him. He looked up at her. Effie put her hand on his head, running her fingers through his hair, but then she stepped back.
“They’re home,” she whispered. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Under the water, she closed her eyes and let herself shake a little, thinking of his touch. Then she turned the water to cold and forced herself to endure the frigid sting long enough to numb herself to even a thought. Teeth chattering, Effie dried herself and put on a pair of comfy pj’s and her fluffy robe.
Heath, to her surprise, had not left. Her mother had, but he and Polly were at the kitchen island with huge bowls of ice cream topped with candy and chocolate syrup. Effie paused in the doorway.
“What happened to Buster’s?”
Polly waved her spoon. “It was too crowded and they didn’t have enough tables, and some of the kids were being jerks about sharing, so I told Nana to bring me home. She didn’t want to stay. She said she had to get back to let Jakie out.”
“And I made Polly a better sundae here, anyway,” Heath said. “Want one?”
Effie put a hand on her belly. “Whoa. No. I’m going to have some hot tea, though. Do you... Would you like some?”
She and Heath shared a look. She could’ve asked him to leave, but that would’ve raised a question and probably a protest from Polly. Besides, there was the promise of finishing what they’d started, later, when Polly had been safely put to bed and was asleep.
She and Heath drank tea. They played a few hands of Uno with Polly, who unashamedly wheedled them into letting her stay up late because it was a Friday night. When Heath slapped a card on top of Effie’s and pulled them both out of the pile with a cry of triumph, Polly shook her head.
“That’s not in the rules. I played this with Sam at her house, and she says that’s not how you play it.”
Heath shrugged and gave Effie a look. “It’s how we play it.”
They’d played Uno for hours, in the basement. They’d made up their own rules for the tournaments. Now Effie looked carefully at her own selection of cards.
“Lots of people make up their own rules, Polly. It’s late now. Bedtime.”
“C’mon,” Heath said, “I’ll tuck you in.”
Polly rolled her eyes. “I don’t need to be tucked in. Sheesh.”
She hopped off her chair and went around the table to hug him, though, tight around the neck. Effie watched the two of them quietly before she got up to put the dishes in the sink.
“Brush your teeth” was all she said to her daughter. “And lights out, no playing around on your phone.”
Polly sighed with another roll of her eyes but left after kissing Heath on the cheek. “Night.”
Effie watched her go, then turned to him. “Remember run around the table?”
“Yeah. If you put down three of the same in a row.” He leaned back in his chair with a laugh and a shake of his head. “And if you used a Reverse card, you had to sit backward until the next one was played.”
It was a surprisingly good memory. Effie smiled. When he came to the sink, she thought he’d kiss her, but Heath only pushed her gently to the side to take over the rinsing of the bowls before she could put them in the dishwasher. Effie was of the opinion that if you had to wash the dishes before washing them, you were making too much of an effort. She leaned against the counter to watch him, though.
“I have a floor that needs a good mopping, too,” she said mildly.
Heath laughed and closed the dishwasher, then rinsed his hands under the tap. He dried them on the seat of his jeans and reached for her. Effie let him pull her closer.
“It wasn’t bad every second,” she said. “Sometimes we made it almost okay.”
“Yes.”
“Someone told me they heard something. About him. Getting out,” she added quietly.
“He won’t.”
She nodded against his chest, her eyes closed.
“And even if he did...”
She looked up at him. “What?”
“He won’t. That’s all. He’s in for the rest of his hopefully short life.” Heath passed a hand over her hair and let his fingers tangle in the length for a second. “I should go.”
Frowning, Effie stepped back. “So go, then.”
“Kiss me first.”
She did, a quick peck that made him laugh and pull her closer. She put her hands flat on his chest to hold him off and shook her head when he tried for another. “Lisa will get jealous.”
It was a shitty thing to say, and she regretted it at once, because Heath did not take it as the joke she’d meant it to be. With a scowl, he backed up a step. Effie reached for him, but he danced out of her reach.
“If you think I want her instead of you, you’re insane,” he said. “But you know what really sucks, Effie, is I think you want me to want her instead of you.”
It was the last thing in the world she really wanted, but it was what she thought they both needed. She shook her head. Heath scowled.
“I’m not you,” he said.
Effie put her hands on her hips. “Clearly.”
Heath shook his head but said nothing. He grabbed his coat and paused to look at her over his shoulder as he stood in the doorway. “I love you, Effie, but sometimes...”
“Sometimes, what?” she demanded.
“Sometimes, you make it really fucking hard.”
chapter twelve
Effie was looking forward to this date with Mitchell the way she anticipated a flu shot. It was going to be slightly unpleasant, but in the long run it would be good for her. Still, she’d been procrastinating about getting ready for it all day, using her work as an excuse. At least it had made her productive. She’d finished up three different pieces for her Craftsy store as well as one larger piece someone had commissioned.
Now she was going to be late. Not by a few minutes, either, but probably by almost an hour, since she hadn’t yet showered and was covered in paint. Effie prided herself on being a woman who didn’t need a lot of time to make herself date ready, but even she needed more than fifteen minutes.
Shit.
I’m running really late, she texted Mitchell. Sorry. Will that mess up dinner?
I’ll change the reservation. What time?
Effie typed a reply while stripping out of her paint-spattered work clothes, asking for an hour and a half, just to be safe. Then she called down the hall to Polly. “Hey, is Nana here yet?”
“No.” Polly appeared in the doorway. “I thought you were leaving at five.”
Effie glanced at Mitchell’s text long enough to see he’d said the timing was okay, then tossed the phone onto the dresser. “I was. Got caught up. What have you been doing all day? You’ve been very quiet.”
Polly looked caught, which made Effie pause before stripping out of her underwear to head for the shower. “Nothing.”
“You must’ve done a lot of nothing.” Effie put her hands on her hips.
Polly shrugged and gave Effie a look of bland innocence she’d learned directly from her mother. Effie sighed and looked at the clock. If she showered quickly, she’d have time to shave all her important bits and blow-dry her hair, and still make it to the restaurant within the time frame she’d asked for. If she had a heart-to-heart motherly chat with her child, it was very likely she wasn’t going to end up going on this date at all.
Choices, choices, choices.
“Text Nana for me, would you? I need to get in the shower,” Effie said over her shoulder as she went into her bathroom and turned on the shower. She quickly tweezed her eyebrows while she waited for the water to heat, then called to Polly, still in the bedroom, “Did she answer you?”
“She says she’s sick!”
Effie stuck her head around the bathroom door. “What?”
“She says she texted you and called you an hour ago.” Polly held up her phone. “She said she’s sick and she can’t come.”
“Shit.” Effie’s phone had been off while she worked and her mother wouldn’t have canceled if she weren’t truly sick. It was her own fault for not checking the text or voice mail she had seen but assumed was her mother asking her a question she could answer when she got there.
“I could stay home alone,” Polly offered hopefully.
Effie snort-laughed at that one and hopped into the shower. Too hot. She hissed and turned the faucet handle while she grabbed her razor. “Um, no.”
“Why not? I’m almost twelve. Meredith stays home alone all the time.”
Effie started shaving, wishing she’d bothered to manage at least some of this upkeep a little better over the past week, because damn, she’d turned into a Sasquatch. Not that she intended to be in any sort of position with Mitchell that would give him even a glimpse of the parts she was grooming. “Since when are you and Meredith such bosom buddies?”
“You’re the one who told me to give her a chance,” Polly said.
Effie peeked around the shower door. “That means I was hoping she’d pick up your good habits, not that she’d teach you bad ones.”
“Staying home alone isn’t a bad habit!”
