“Dear Lord.” She glances at the heavens. “What did I do in a past life to deserve a son this moody?”
“Moody?” My lips form a thin line. Maybe I am, but whatever.
“Yes.” Arching a challenging brow, she places her palm on her hip. “Now, as much as I love our chats, I draw the line at discussing your escapades. I know enough about your marriage to make anyone cringe.”
“But, she’s here and you were talking to her.” My mother rolls her eyes at the sputtering response.
“Cole Cody Alexander, what in the world are you talking about? I have customers and no time to decipher your double talk.”
“Marley,” I growl, the first time I’ve spoken her name out loud since hearing it from one of Taylor’s kids. It suits her.
“What about her?”
Why is this woman playing dumb?
“Mother,” I say, in an attempt to muster some calm. “What is she doing here?”
“You can’t be this dense, Cole. What did it look like she was doing?”
“That’s not what I meant.” I clench my fists at my sides. The woman can be so frustrating and I suspect she’s doing this on purpose. “I met her six months ago in New York and now she’s here. Do you see where I’m going with this?”
My mom opens her mouth to speak, and closes it a second later. Instead of being incensed as I am, she laughs. There’s absolutely nothing funny about this, yet her chest continues to shake with mirth.
Finally, after another minute or two, she wipes moisture off the corner of her eye, bringing her gaze returning to me.
“You’re basically telling me you have a stalker?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I run my fingers through my hair in frustration because I know it’s a bullshit reply. Marley is nothing of the sort. Her sudden appearance has my head all over the place and my gut doing flip-flops. Inwardly, I groan at the emotions Marley seems to drag out of me.
“Funny. She doesn’t seem the type. Also, Lenny loves her and I do too. Perhaps you should find out from the source before making any assumptions. That’s what I would do, but you never listen to me anyway. You married Chrissy, after all.”
“What does she have to do with this?” I snap in irritation.
“Well, son,” she folds her arms across her chest. “Should I list the many warning signs you ignored even after your father and I pointed them out?”
“Again,” I narrow my eyes at her, “What does it matter?”
“I’m merely stating that I can read people well. Marley doesn’t give off the Wicked-Witch-of-the-West vibe Chrissy did when you brought her home for a visit, and I’ve only met the girl once. So, as I said, go and speak with her before you decide if she belongs on the FBI’s most-wanted list.”
“Are you always going to bring up my mistakes in the love department? I find this topic weird coming from my mother.”
“Only when you’re an idiot, dear. I mean seriously”—she chuckles—“do you honestly think I would have the presence of mind to seek out one of your past relationships and bring them to town to spite you?” She grins. “Marley must’ve done a number on you because I’ve never seen you this flustered. I‘ll have to ask Taylor for her number.”
Taylor.
My expression pales and my mom must notice because, in a flash, her mirthful expression morphs into disapproval.
I hate she knows me this well.
“I can’t believe I’m going to three name you for the second time in the same conversation, but, Cole Cody Alexander, what did you do?”
I slept with Taylor last week and, by a simple twist of fate, my previous hook-up works in the same school as her. Oh, and Taylor wants me to make a decision about whether or not we are a couple. But after seeing Marley again, I know for sure we can only be friends. This is what I should’ve said, but come on. It’s my mom.
“Nothing,” I finally mutter, glancing at the floor. She’d be able to easily see through my lie if I stared directly in her eyes.
“Cole.” She sighs. “Whatever you’re doing right now, stop it.”
“I’m not —” She flashes an I-don’t-believe-you frown, and I nod in acceptance.
I am being an asshole. Again
“Look, I’m going to level with you. It’s not what you think with Taylor and me. Um, there was a slip.”
She gives me a disapproving look.
“But it’s done now, so do me a favor, and don’t mention this to anyone.”
Some might find my willingness to discuss my relationships openly with my mother as strange. It is, but we’ve become closer since my father’s death. In fact, even before that. She gave me crap about the divorce after I came clean about the reasons behind it. I’ve never seen her so disappointed in me. She knew how awful Chrissy was. Still, my mom expected me to at least make an attempt since I was adamant about how right the two of us were for each other. Instead, I became a serial cheater, unrecognizable to those I love. It’s one thing to be a ladies man in high school, but that shit shouldn’t carry over to your marriage.
I don’t give her any gory details. In fact, this is the first time anyone other than Chrissy has come up between us.
My mom presses her lips together in contemplation.
“I won’t lie for you, Cole and I strongly suggest you speak with both women.”
“I’m not asking you to, but give me time to speak with them before the end of the week. By Saturday, they will both know about each other.”
“Fine, but don’t make me regret this.”
“I won’t.” I flash a wary smile. I’m already exhausted from the conversation Taylor and I must have. I’ll see her first because Marley and I have more to discuss than who I had sex with while we were apart. Like why she left in such a rush and didn’t leave me so much as a note.
My mind is filled with these troubling thoughts as I walk back to the hardware store. Both my mother and I had work to do at our respective offices and Lenny is due a late lunch.
“Hey,” I mumble, joining Lenny at the front of the store behind the register.
“What took you so long?” He taps at his phone screen before turning his gaze to me. “And where’s my cake pop?”
“I was distracted.” I grab a stack of invoices, flip through them to confirm if they’ve been paid. I’ll enter them into the Excel spreadsheet and have Lenny file the documents later. I need a minute to deal and busy work keeps my mind occupied.
“Aw, man. I had my mouth set for some cake-pop action. They’re like a party on your taste buds.”
“The party’s been canceled.” My growly response gives Lenny pause.
“Do you need a hug?” He pats me on the back of my shoulder. “I usually save them for my mom, but I’m willing to part with one if it puts you in a better mood.”
There’s that word again.
Mood.
Maybe he and my mother are in cahoots to drive me insane.
“I’m a man, and we don’t hug,” I grumble, sounding like a little bitch. The more I stew about Marley’s sudden appearance, the surlier I become. Intentional or not, she wounded my pride. Instead of confronting her, I cowered in the corner and whined like a child to my mommy.
“Okay, then.” Frowning, Lenny takes two steps back, treating me as if I’m an animal and the slightest movement will spook me. It seems as though he has to treat me with kid gloves today. “I’m going to go.” He drags out the last word. Lenny’s not much for confrontation. According to him, he’s a lover, not a fighter.
I wave goodbye to him, inwardly knowing his shift doesn't end until four-thirty. I’m irritated and distracted, which makes me poor company. It’s better if I work alone for the rest of the day, allowing me time to consider my current predicament. Even though I’m not technically with either woman, this has the potential to blow up in my face. There’s even the possibility Taylor’s dad will kick my ass for real. He’s never liked me anyway.
Before I even weigh the pros and cons, I need to confro
nt Marley and find out why all of a sudden she’s in my town. Six months ago, she gave no inclination she was looking for a new place to live? Or did she? Part of me is elated I saw her again, but the other half is scared to death of what her being here means.
A new start for both of us?
Yeah, right.
Despite the connection with Marley, the best decision now is to keep things friendly and drama free.
Fuck, then there’s the Taylor factor.
Perhaps I should see Taylor first and explain the situation. We’re making an attempt at friendship and I owe her honesty after the way I treated her. I don't want her to think I’m hiding my past with Marley from her. Women don't care for liars and I’m not that man any longer.
Sometimes I wish I wanted Taylor as much as she does me. Life would be easier if that were the case. But after spending the night with Marley, I knew Taylor and I were never right for each other.
After locking up the store, I step out into the warm summer night, the humidity surprisingly low for a late August evening. I’m starving and the only thing in my refrigerator is a six-pack of beer and old Chinese food. I should stop at the Fresh Garden Market for a ready-made meal, and I do, for about five seconds.
Swiftly, I change direction, taking the short hike to Marley’s apartment. I know I shouldn’t, but damn, I can’t help myself. I’ve had enough dreams about the woman and thought about our night too much to not find out what the hell is going on.
With determination in my stride, I arrive at her building, pausing on the sidewalk across the street. My gaze travels to the second floor, and it’s then I catch sight of her, headphones affixed to her ears, cell in her right hand. She’s deep in conversation with someone, her animated hand gestures seeming angry. I can’t help but want to soothe her, remove whoever placed that expression on her face from her life. The urge to solve her problems is strong, but she and I aren’t a good idea. I’m only here to clear the air and extend my hand in friendship. That’s all.
Arbor Ridge is a fairly decent place, but the security is awful. According to the posted sign, the doorman is only available from nine to five, the announcement to thieves of the best time to rob the occupants. Besides, the front door is propped open. Falls Village doesn’t have a massive crime problem, but you can never be too careful.
Per Lenny’s notes, her apartment is on the second floor in the front. Even if I didn’t have the information, she’s clearly visible from the street. I’ll ask her to keep her shades down for privacy’s sake.
When I arrive at her front door, my phone chimes in my pocket, the ring tone not loud enough to alert her of my presence. Shoving my hand in my right pocket, I quickly silence it and check the caller ID.
Fuck, Taylor.
Of course, it's her.
The second I choose to approach Marley’s door, my past mistake comes to the forefront via cell phone. She leaves a voicemail and I stupidly listen to it.
“Cole. It’s me.” She’s silent for a beat. “I saw you at the store today and you didn’t say hello. I know we argued the other day, but avoiding me seems a bit juvenile, don’t you think?” She pauses. “Anyway, call me. I hate that we’re fighting. If you’re serious about this friendship, then let’s bury the hatchet as they say. Talk to you soon, I hope.”
Yup. Big mistake pushing play.
Taylor sounds serious about being friends. If anything, I owe her an apology, not the other way around. I decide to place the Taylor situation on the back burner for now, focusing again on Marley’s front door.
What exactly do I say? Should I confront her about why she left me or brush it off? It was just one night after all.
Play it cool, Cole.
I mentally repeat this mantra to myself, when, I should’ve thought through what I planned on saying before deciding to darken her doorstep. A smarter man would’ve, but I’m an impulsive idiot. Maybe she and I can be friends? Probably not. I’d rather see her naked again anyway.
Fuck it. I knock on her door. She doesn’t answer and then I hear, “Don’t even think about it, Mother. You and him especially, are not welcome.”
“Can I help you?” Her shout surprises me. I didn’t think she heard my knock. For a brief moment, I’m rendered mute. I rub my hand over my face to calm myself. She selects that moment to look through her peephole.
“Covering your face like a weirdo won’t stop me from calling the cops.”
“Open up. It’s me.” I finally answer. I roll my eyes because, of course, she obviously wouldn’t know who “me” is.
“I’m not opening the door, buddy. This may be a friendly town, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”
She must not be peering through the peephole again or else she would’ve recognized me since I’ve removed my hands from my face. It’s time to remind her of who I am and I know exactly what to say
“Let me in, Sparkle.”
“Cole?” She gasps my name and then falls into silence for a beat. Seconds later, the door flies open and my eyes finally meet hers, the woman I’ve wanted another chance with.
Screw being her friend.
Slowly, my gaze travels the length of her. I study her body, searching for any changes since I last saw her.
Wearing a pair of white boxer shorts with an image of a strawberry cone embroidered on the right side, she looks delicious enough to eat. It’s fitting, reminding me of how often I had my head between her legs, tasting every inch of her. I love how short they are, and I bet if she turned around, I’d catch a glimpse of her ass.
What finally seals the deal for me is her red tank top with two smaller versions of the cones covering each breast. The first word reads “lick” and the second “me.”
As if someone flicks a light switch on, I come to a few crucial conclusions.
One, that outfit will make perfect kindling. Two, she’s just as beautiful as she was the first time I connected with those hazel eyes. Three, she and I are not done.
Not by a fucking long shot.
To prove my point, I step through the doorway and grip her by the nape of her neck. With a jerk, I pull her to me, our mouths crashing together like a violent wave battering a pier at high tide. I’m not careful as I suck on her tongue and nip at her lip. It’s crazy, but I want her mouth bruised. She needs to remember who was there, who will always be the one this close to her. It’s never felt like this with anyone and her responding kiss confirms it.
When her legs wrap around my waist, I kick the door shut. I’m not entirely sure what will happen next, but I’m willing to roll with it. I allow my body to lead me to what could possibly be a mistake or the best decision I’ve ever made.
8
The Ending is What’s Important
Affirmation #63
Family is a gift. They keep giving and giving even when you’ve had enough.
Marley
“Are you ready to come home yet because this whole “finding yourself” thing is getting old?” My mother has never been supportive of my choices. The woman has a way of bringing me down when she should have my corner. This evening she’s in rare form. For real, her sour mood is killing the sense of accomplishment I’ve felt since this afternoon.
After doing a kick-ass job of reading to the kids, Taylor and I returned to the classroom with the kids in tow. Before we left, Taylor and I organized while she discussed the lesson plan for the next day.
By three, I was out the door, waving at Hannah and other staff members before I passed the threshold. I flounced around town for a few before heading home. After a quick dinner, I was able to watch The Lost Boys for thirty minutes before being interrupted. It was the one scene where David manipulated Michael into believing he was eating maggots. I always cringe at that part, especially the worms. Still, this is one of my favorite movies. My mother is like the human version of a vampire. She sucks the life out of everything she touches.
“This is my home, mom,” I tell her for the umpteenth time.
“No. Brooklyn is
, and honestly, Marley, I tire of your flighty behavior.”
“Flighty?” I mentally count to ten. Despite the numerous times I considered strangling my mother for her flippant comments, I still show her respect, even when she doesn’t deserve it. “Look, we’ve had this discussion. I want to start over, mom. Something I should have done years ago.”
You should try it.
I’d love to tell her this since she’s still hung up on my bio dad, but I’d rather not open that can of worms.
“Marley, you could do the same thing here. There are plenty of neighborhoods in Brooklyn alone where you could start over, as you say. There’s nothing in Maine except for a large body of water and uninteresting people. I bet you’re the only black person there.”
This place isn’t as diverse as Manhattan, but not many places are. The city is a Mecca for fuck’s sake and you can’t compare it to anywhere else.
Another thing I don’t tell her.
I could show my mother a picture of a packet of sugar and she’d find something wrong with it.
“What matters is I like it here. The people are friendly. Why can’t you be happy for me?”
“I talked to your father today. He asked for you?”
Here’s the point in the conversation where she attempts to make me feel guilty. She’s not referring to the man who raised me. I know this because I texted my dad earlier. This loser, my bio dad, must be stringing her along again. Their sick relationship goes through phases, but only when he’s in the mood for her. Aaron Bancroft is still married, and when he has an itch his wife can’t scratch, he goes to my mother or, more like, she goes to him. It’s been this way since she divorced my dad, Deke Bishop.
“I already spoke with dad.” I play dumb.
“I’m talking about Aaron. He wants us to have dinner next week. He said he had good news.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening.”
“Marley, he’s your father.”
“And whose fault is that?” I massage my temples to stave the oncoming headache this conversation is intent on bringing.
What Once Was Mine Page 8
