by Lexy Parker
“Sometimes, when I’m on the spin bike, I think to myself why am I doing this? Why am I trying to stay in shape? Am I trying to look good for another man? Then I hate myself for thinking about being with another man,” she confessed, tears welling in her eyes again.
“Dani, look at me,” I ordered.
She looked up, the tears sliding down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I do not think for a single second that you have to spend the rest of your days on this earth mourning my brother and keeping yourself locked away from men. I want you to be happy. Gage would want you to be happy. You do your spin class because it helps you to feel good about yourself. You do it because it works out some of those emotions weighing you down. Don’t you dare feel guilty for taking care of yourself. I will drag you to that class myself if you even think about quitting,” I told her in a stern voice.
She wiped her eyes again. “I swear I’m not purposely trying to find another man.”
“I don’t care if you do. Dani, I don’t believe there is a specific amount of time that is required for you to mourn my brother. He’s gone and he’s not coming back. I know that. I know you aren’t cheating on him. You aren’t disrespecting him. Don’t ever think you have to hide that part of your life from me. I’m your friend, hell, I’m your best friend and you are my best friend. I want you to be happy. I want you to get married and have a million babies. Gage would be thrilled to know you still got the chance to live out those dreams. You have to. You have to do it for yourself and for him,” I told her, barely able to keep my shit together.
In the back of my mind, I was already promising myself a long, good cry after I got home from work later. I could keep it together until then. I wouldn’t let her see how hard it was for me to tell her to leave my brother behind and move on with her life. I knew it wasn’t fair to ask her to hold on to my brother’s memory. It wasn’t fair to her or her future husband. His memory was my responsibility.
She took a deep breath, pulling herself together. “I hope you find someone to love like the way I loved Gage.”
I nodded. “I hope so too.”
“He was my everything.”
“I know.”
We stared at the headstone in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I wasn’t sure I wanted to love like she loved Gage. Seeing her suffering like she was, I didn’t think I wanted to experience that kind of pain. When we’d first learned of his death, I thought for sure she would die as well. She’d been inconsolable. She didn’t eat or sleep, then she slept for a week straight. In many ways, her devastation had been my saving grace. It gave me no time to think about my own pain. I had shut down the flower shop and remained with her around the clock, begging her to stay with me.
I wasn’t sure I could have survived losing her too. She was all I had left in the world, which was why I made damn sure she was taken care of. My brother had set her up in a financial sense. She was fortunate to be able to keep the house they had bought together a couple short years ago. She had the flexibility to work a few hours or not at all as she worked through her grief. Gage had been a damn good man and he had taken care of his wife, even after death. I admired him so much for his ability to think of a future where he wasn’t in it. That took courage.
Chapter 11
Philip
I had felt a bit of an awkwardness that morning when I picked up the orders from Jamie. I knew it was all one-sided. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what Clay had said. The more I thought about it, the more I knew he was right. I did find Jamie attractive and that bothered me a little. I didn’t want to be attracted to her. It felt like cheating and I was not a cheat. I was surprised to feel anything for her. Surprised and a little nervous about the idea of starting something new with another woman.
I delivered one of the last few flower arrangements remaining, smiling and being as nice as could be toward the older woman who’d apparently been under the weather. The elderly woman had tears in her eyes as she accepted the flowers that had been sent by someone who’d been kind enough to care. I had to admit, delivering flowers in the morning was a great way to start the day. I had a new understanding for Jamie’s job and how it could be very satisfying.
I checked the order sheet and inputted the next delivery into the GPS when my phone started to ring. It was Sadie’s school. My heart was skipping beats in my chest as I fumbled to answer the call. I had no idea why they would be calling unless something had happened. I felt a flash of icy cold wash over me followed by a hot flash as my adrenaline raced.
“Hello?” I answered, my mouth dry.
“Mr. Allen?”
“Yes, this is he,” I answered, my tongue feeling thick as my foot.
“This is Miss Parker, Sadie’s teacher,” she said.
I nodded. “Yes, what’s wrong?” I blurted out, not interested in niceties.
“Nothing is wrong. Sadie is fine, I’m sorry to have worried you. I was wondering if you had a few minutes to talk,” she said, her voice hesitant, which told me something was definitely wrong.
“Yes, when?”
“I’m available for about the next thirty minutes and then after school,” she answered.
“I’ll be right there,” I said, hung up, and threw the truck into drive.
Everything else could wait. Nothing else mattered. Sadie was my entire world and if there was something wrong, I would be there for her. The entire drive to the school, my mind was racing with possibilities, wondering what could have happened. I knew Sadie wasn’t hurt. I assumed they would have told me right away if that were the case. I rushed inside the school, gave my name at the front office, and waited until my name was called.
“Mr. Allen?” a young woman with glasses and mousy brown hair said my name.
I recognized her as one of Sadie’s teachers and immediately stood. “That’s me.”
“Come with me. The kids are in their music class,” she explained as we walked down the hall to her classroom.
I followed her in and took the normal-size chair in the room. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“We had an art project and I wanted to show you what Sadie drew,” she said, opening a file and pulling out a large sheet of paper.
She handed it to me. I felt my stomach turn as I stared at the image of a figure that was obviously me, a smaller figure with lots of curly brown hair, which would be Sadie, and the image of a tombstone with a cross on top. The word “Mom” was written on the stone. I stared at it, feeling sad for Sadie and myself.
“What’s this?” I asked, my voice hoarser than usual.
She cleared her throat. “The assignment was to draw a picture of family. I understand not all children come from two-parent households. It’s very normal to see two parents on far sides of the pages or only one parent or a grandparent. As you can see, Sadie’s picture is a little different from the rest.”
I sighed. “She’s drawing the truth. That’s her reality. I don’t think she is trying to be funny or whatever you think is happening here.”
“No, I don’t think that at all. She was very calm and nonchalant about it when she told me what her picture meant,” she explained.
I shrugged a shoulder. “Good, right? I mean, I guess I don’t see the problem.”
Miss Parker offered me a small smile. “There is no problem. I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure what her story was. I didn’t ask her any questions, but I did want to check in with you on it. Sometimes, kids can be big storytellers. My only concern was her mother wasn’t deceased and she thought this was funny.”
I felt a punch to my gut. “It is absolutely not funny. Sadie would never draw anything so dark. This is her life.”
Miss Parker nodded. “I’m sorry, truly I am. I had to check in with you. I’m very happy she seems so well-adjusted. Honestly, I have a lot of kids of single dads. Sadie’s style and the way her hair is so perfect every day, well forgive me, but I made the very wrong assumption that was done at the hands
of a woman.”
The anger I had been feeling quickly defused. “That’s all Sadie. She learned how to tame her hair from her mother and her impeccable fashion taste is all her mother too. Sadie has had a hard time in the past, but I got her counseling, and her counselor felt she was handling things very well. Are you suggesting she isn’t?” I asked.
Miss Parker shook her head. “Absolutely not. Now that I have some context for the picture, I have to agree with the counselor. Sadie is a wonderful girl and I love having her in class. She’s very bright.”
“Thank you. I’ll talk with her about the picture,” I said, not offering Miss Parker the whole story.
It wasn’t any of her business, and quite frankly, I wasn’t up for rehashing the death of my wife. It was one of those wounds that had finally begun to heal. I knew it wasn’t healthy to push it all away and pretend it didn’t happen, but I’d already done as much grieving as I cared to do. I liked hovering in the denial and semi-numb phase. It made it easier to get through every day and it made it possible for me to take care of my daughter.
“I’m sorry to have brought this up,” Miss Parker said. “You can talk with her if you choose, but now that I understand a little more, I will know what to expect. I’m so sorry to have bothered you.”
I shrugged. “It’s fine. I think Sadie is aware of her mother’s death and has accepted it. The tombstone is where part of her family is. She doesn’t see it as a spooky place, and it is definitely not funny. It’s a part of her.”
Miss Parker nodded. “I understand and she is very mature for her age. I guess I’m more used to seeing angels drawn in the sky when a child talks about the loss of a loved one or they draw the loved one as they remember them.”
“Sadie is very cut and dry. She needs tangible things to believe in. We used to visit the cemetery often. It’s where her mom is in her mind,” I explained.
“Okay. Well, now I understand. Thank you for taking the time to come in. I hope I didn’t interrupt your day too badly,” she said with a smile.
“Nope, but if that’s all, I do need to get back to work.”
“Yes, that’s all.”
I stood and walked out of the class, doing my best to appear calm and unrattled. Inside, I was shaken. I wasn’t sure why Sadie chose to draw what she did. I would try and talk to her about it, but I wasn’t all that worried. She’d been doing so well, a lot better than I had. I wasn’t a child-rearing expert and had to rely on teachers and counselors, but I felt I knew my daughter pretty well. She didn’t seem to be distraught or to be having weird thoughts. I had to believe this was a situation of a teacher overreacting to the new kid in class. Once she got to know Sadie, it would be okay.
When I got back in the truck, I checked my delivery sheet. The last order of flowers to be delivered were supposed to be there by noon. I checked my watch and realized it was fifteen after. The delivery consisted of all plants and not actual cut flowers. I checked the address and realized it was some kind of business office. I tried to do my part and called, only to find it was an accounting firm and they were gone for the rest of the day, hence the noon cut off.
“Shit,” I muttered.
I had to face Jamie and let her know what happened. I felt awful I’d screwed up her deliveries. I truly hoped it didn’t cost her a client or earn her a bad review. It was completely my fault and I was willing to own up to it and take the blame.
I parked in back of the shop and grabbed the box with the plants. I buzzed the back door, waiting for her to answer. I should have gone around front. She was probably busy, and I was taking more time out of her day. I stepped away, ready to walk around when the door opened.
“Hey,” she greeted, a smile on her face.
She looked at me and then the box of plants before looking at me again.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.
She gestured for me to go inside. “What happened?”
“I had an emergency come up and I didn’t make it to this place by noon. I called, but they were already gone for the day,” I told her.
“Oh no, I’m sorry. Is everything okay?” she asked.
I gave her the box. “Everything is fine. It was a call from my daughter’s school.”
She raised an eyebrow. I could tell she was surprised to know I had a kid.
“You didn’t have to rush back. If there’s something you need to take care of, go ahead,” she assured me.
I appreciated her kindness. “It’s fine. I already handled it.”
She smiled. “How old is she?”
“Seven.”
She nodded. “That’s a fun age.”
I made a face. “I suppose. Sometimes I think she’s a little too smart for her own good.”
She giggled softly. “I think that can be said of any of us. We tend to think we know what’s best for us. I know my own parents used to tell me that same thing well into my adult life.”
“True, but she really is too smart and says what she thinks,” I muttered.
“Did she get in trouble?” Jamie asked, not prying, but the question was too close to home for me.
I shook my head. “No.”
“I’m sorry! That was not cool. I didn’t mean to be nosy,” Jamie quickly apologized.
I shook my head. “No, you’re not. It’s fine.”
“Well, I will put these in the cooler. They’ll be fine for another day. I’ll call and let them know the delivery will be there tomorrow,” she said quickly.
I watched her move, admiring her energy and beauty at the same time. There was something about her that appealed to a part of me I thought was dead.
“Would you like to get dinner later this week? I’d love to tell you all about what happened today,” I asked, my voice low, the words feeling strange as they crossed my lips.
She spun around and looked at me. “Looked” was the wrong word. I felt as if I were being filleted with the daggers shooting from her eyes.
“Dinner? With you?” she asked, her voice a dangerous growl.
I suddenly had the feeling I had made a huge mistake.
Chapter 12
Jamie
I should have known. Why had I even let myself believe he was a good guy? There weren’t any left. He was good, really good. He had fooled me with his cool demeanor and respectful manners. I had assumed he was being respectful to his wife by being so professional with just enough distance. Asshole. He was an asshole just like the guy last week who had offered me the lucky job of being the woman he cheated on his wife with. I was going to have to rethink things if this was going to become the norm. Did I give off some kind of vibe that told married guys I was down for a quick romp?
I should take a selfie. I wanted to show Dani what a real scowl looked like. My forehead probably looked like a shar-pei puppy at the moment. I put my hands on my hips and prepared to unleash holy fire at the man who was now looking at me with real fear in his eyes. He should be afraid. He was damn lucky I didn’t know his wife.
“Dinner? Did you seriously just ask me if I wanted to have dinner with you?” I hissed.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m really sorry. I got ahead of myself and it just came out.”
“How dare you! Who do you think you are?” I said, barely able to keep my anger under control.
“I said I was sorry. You’re making a much bigger deal out of this than you need to. I’m sorry I asked, trust me, it won’t happen again,” he said, his voice low and full of shame.
I shook my head. “No, you shouldn’t have asked. You must think pretty little of me to ask me to dinner.”
He looked very confused. “Wouldn’t I think highly of you if I asked you to dinner?” he said, sounding very perplexed.
My mouth dropped open. “No!” I shrieked.
“No?”
“You think just because you’re the new hot man in town that all the small-town girls are going to be dropping their panties for yo
u. You actually think you’re that good looking?” I sneered.
He shook his head. “I don’t think any such thing.”
“Obviously, you do. We’ve talked about five times and never more than two minutes here and there. What would give you the impression I was the kind of girl who would go out with someone like you?”
He blinked, stepping back as if I had slapped him. “I have no idea. Look, I’ve apologized, but I really don’t know what else to say. All you had to do was say no. I don’t know what your deal is, but forget I asked,” he replied.
I shook my head. “I don’t make it a habit to go out with married men. For you to even ask me is disgusting and rude!” I said, my voice rising. He was going to actually pretend I was the one in the wrong while he stood there with a ring on his finger.
“Married?” He looked down at his hand as if he just remembered he had a ring on.
I wanted to shake him and then slap him and then call his wife to tell her all about her awful, cheating husband. I bet he was regretting wearing the ring. I knew some women were drawn to the idea of sleeping with married men, but I wasn’t.
“Married. You know, that place of holy matrimony where you promise to love and cherish another woman. Not several women, one woman, unless you’re into that, then whatever, but I’m not. You need to take your ass home to your wife,” I said firmly.
A satisfying look of hurt and guilt spread over his face. I felt as if I had won some prize for helping a man see the light. I wanted to believe I had just reminded him of his vows and he would never think about cheating again.
“My wife is gone. She died three years ago. I’m a widower, not technically married, but you’re right. I shouldn’t have asked you to dinner. I don’t know what I was thinking,” he mumbled and headed for the back door.
