“Yeah. Let’s hear them,” Matt said gamely.
“Number two—tie you up, gag you up, and lock you in the basement.”
“We don’t have a basement.” Matt made an ugly face at me.
“In a closet then.”
“You wouldn’t do that.” Toby scoffed, “You’re mean but you’re not that mean.” He picked up another pillow and threw it in my face. “And besides, we’d tell Dad. He’d bug out and holler at you. You wouldn’t want to see him mad.”
“Your dad is a pussy-cat compared to me. Besides, you haven’t seen my fangs.” I bared my orthodontist perfect teeth and growled. “They only come out when I haven’t had any dinner. I’m hungry,” I teased, stalking toward them like I was Count Dracula.
Matt quivered, he was the youngest, and I almost felt bad, but not quite. “Yikes!” he said in a small voice. “We could have macaroni and cheese.”
Toby, who’s eight, picked on his younger brother. “Don’t be a sissy. She’s not really a vampire.”
“That’s true,” I agreed, then dumped the untouched drink down the drain. “All right. Food. I don’t suppose you like sushi?”
Toby scrunched his nose up. “What’s that?”
I put my hands on my hips and grinned. “Raw fish.”
“Ew!” both boys giggled.
“Calamari?” I suggested.
“What’s that?” they asked in unison.
Deciding to get into the game, I waved my hands around their heads like tentacles. “Squid.”
“Gross.” They laughed, enjoying this. “What else?”
“Hmm. I could fix you escargot…snails.”
“Yuck.”
By the time I had gone through every delicacy I could think of, I’d whipped up macaroni and cheese, made some toast, peeled and sliced a banana, and had them seated at the table.
It was a small victory, but I’d take it.
* * *
By Sunday night, I wanted to go away on vacation from my vacation and never come back. The kids no longer bothered me. I tossed them chocolate chip cookies and they stopped bashing me in the head with pillows. I knew I wasn’t cut out to be a mother.
The problem was, after a long day of yelling and fighting and screaming, those two terrors would fall asleep next to me on the couch and look so sweet and innocent that I’d forget all about the red Juicy Juice stain on the carpet. Is that how mothers got suckered into repopulating the planet?
When John and Melanie arrived home I was slightly delirious with joy. I think I broke down and cried.
The monsters’ mother put her arms around me in a bear hug and asked gently, “That bad?”
“Oh, oh, oh! I am just so happy to be going home. I feel so inadequate. I should have been buying you spa treatments for your birthday instead of designer bags. If there is anything I can ever do to make your life easier, anything at all that doesn’t involve babysitting my nephews, please let me know.”
“I’m fine.” She assured me with a laugh. “Don’t worry. I know they are a little rambunctious at times.” She smiled fondly at her boys. “Wait and see. When they’re your own kids, it’s different.”
I drove home in a fog, my hands shaking as I gripped the wheel. I thought about that statement for a long, long time. Melanie hadn’t looked at her boys with shame, no, she’d hugged them despite peanut butter and jelly hands on her clean clothes, and kissed their ratty heads, since they wouldn’t allow me to wash their hair, and she had tears of happiness in her eyes. It was a worrisome image.
This weekend had shown me something. If I had this baby, I was going to have a lifetime of hell. But as I was born and raised like a good Catholic girl, I figured if I chose to terminate the baby, I’d have an eternity.
* * *
Jed got a hold of me a few days later. By accident. I’d picked up the phone without checking caller ID because I was expecting a call from Fran.
“Lydia, I’m so glad I’ve reached you. I’ve called and left messages, but you haven’t returned my calls.”
His voice gave me goose bumps. I knew, in my heart of hearts, that for once in my life I was being a bigger chicken than the cowardly lion. “Uh, hi, Jed. I’ve been doing some preliminary work with a couple of new clients. It’s been very time consuming.”
Well, there was some truth in it. I had been busy. I used to be able to bury my head in work and tune out everything else. Not lately. I was easily distracted and might stay that way for some time to come.
“You’ve been avoiding me. I know it.” I heard a flash of anger in his voice. “Let me remind you that I have a right to know what’s going on. With you, I mean.”
Now was the moment to tell him. I could hear in his tone that this was messing with his life, too. Do it! How hard can it be?
My mouth opened to blurt out the truth, and then snapped shut. I remembered him saying he’d demand joint custody. He’d want a part of my baby. No way. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I felt a cold chill run over my skin, and I shuddered. What to do? I didn’t want his help and wasn’t asking for it. He could see the baby if he insisted, but not have any say in how I raised the child. And definitely not joint custody. I was not going to drag the poor baby from one bed to another every few days. That was my decision, and that was final.
So tell him already.
“I’m fine.” I said with a breezy laugh. “Everything’s great. Doctor said I was just under stress, and Fran told me vacationing can do that to people who are workaholics.” Well, that was all true, wasn’t it?
“You’ve been to the doctor? Wonderful.” I could hear the relief in his voice, and I knew I had done the right thing by keeping the pregnancy to myself for a while longer. He had enough on his hands. He didn’t need this complication right now. And we could sort all the other stuff out later.
“I was wondering if you’d like to get together, maybe go get a bite to eat, or whatever.”
The man was a glutton for punishment, I’d give him that. “Sorry, I can’t. I’m way too busy.”
“You still have to eat, don’t you?”
“Oh, I do. I grab a sandwich when I get hungry.”
“I hate to eat alone. Come on, Lydia, I’d enjoy your company. You always make me laugh.”
I did? And the office staff thought I didn’t have a sense of humor. What do they know?
My lips curved in a smile at the thought of him enjoying my company. It gave me a pleasant, warm, tingly kind of feeling. The way I used to feel when I was young and excited about going on dates, full of expectation and hope that this person, this one guy might be the one—my soul mate. How laughable it seems to me now, to think that out of all the zillions of people in the planet—that I or anyone for that matter—could possibly find a soul mate. I mean, talk about the proverbial needle in the haystack. What if that soul you’re searching for happens to live in China, or Australia, or another state? What happens then? You wander around aimlessly, searching, searching, becoming increasingly lonely until you settle for something. Anything at all.
Could be the guy who sells you coffee in the morning, or what about the guy who delivers the mail? You’re waiting, waiting for that moment when you see the mail truck each day. It’s filled with endless possibilities, like contracts, or fun invitations to parties. So when it does arrive you see the man bringing possible good news, your heart opens up, and boom, the next thing you know you’re married.
Years and three kids later, you wake up one morning and realize this guy has no insights into your soul, doesn’t want to, and you have absolutely nothing in common. That’s where divorce comes into the picture. And I make money.
But still. I really liked being with Jed, too. If things were different, who knows? Maybe I might take a chance on him. He seemed like a nice, decent guy, and there was a shortage in the world of nice, decent guys. Straight ones, anyway.
But I was having his baby, he was having a divorce, I didn’t want him in my life, and he didn’t want me. It was so mu
ch easier just to say no.
“Jed. When you and I get together, sometimes things get out of control. I don’t want that. You don’t want that. We just have chemistry, and one sparks the other. We got lucky.” I gulped on the lie. “Why take another chance?”
He was silent for a long moment. “I bought a box of new condoms, guaranteed not to break, in the off chance. And hell, chemistry is what makes life fun. It also makes it awfully hard to sleep at night, knowing that you’re just a few floors away.”
I suffered the same dilemma, so I was able to say with conviction, “Order a pizza, and take a cold shower.”
“Cold. You’re cruel, Lydia. Can I tempt you with pepperoni?”
“No.” I lied, “it gives me acid reflux.” It was actually my favorite. “But don’t let that stop you from ordering it.” I was picturing him taking that cold shower, and it was making me hot. “I have a feeling that you won’t be eating alone for long. You’re handsome, kind, funny, tall, and rich.” I added with a laugh. “Someone will snatch you up quick.”
The idea bothered me a little, well more than a little. A lot. I hoped I wouldn’t have to see him parading around the building with a slew of beautiful girls. Maybe the baby and me would move out before that happened. “Don’t jump too soon because you’re on the rebound. Just date for awhile. Have fun.”
“Rebound, hell.” he said, surprising me. “I’ve been over my wife for a long, long time. Alexei moved out of the bedroom after the twins were born. Did it, like some kind of obligation, once a month. It was like sleeping with a dead fish. After awhile I didn’t bother.”
My heart jumped inside my chest. I don’t know why. I was both appalled and elated, if that makes any sense. “And you stayed with her all that time? No sex?” Poor Jed. He had no clue that his wife was into chicks.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I did meet someone and we went out for a year and a half, but she knew I wasn’t going to leave my wife and the kids, and got fed up waiting. Last I heard she was married, and I’m happy for her.”
“Uh-huh.” Just as I thought. He did have an affair.
“What does that uh-huh mean?” His voice deepened. “I hated sneaking around. That was not what I wanted from my marriage. I wanted it to be different, better than my parents. And it didn’t work out that way.”
“Why didn’t you just leave the marriage instead of cheating behind her back?”
“I told you. I wouldn’t leave my children. I know how deeply it affects the kids when a parent leaves, and I swore I’d never do that to my own babies.”
I swallowed hard. “But now you have no choice. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, I fought to save our marriage but all she wanted was this divorce.”
“Hmmm.” That was all I was saying. Not another word more.
“It was okay most of the time. Not affectionate, but not unpleasant either.” He hesitated, before continuing, “Until a couple of years ago. I think that was when she met someone.”
I bit my tongue and tried to think of something else to say. Something to turn the conversation away from his wife. Nothing. Nada. Finally, I couldn’t keep myself from asking, “Do you have any idea who she’s seeing?”
“I told you. I think it’s her ex-dancing partner. The guy in California.”
“I don’t.” I spoke with extreme caution. “I think you should ask her yourself. Tell her that I mentioned running into her at the bar and see what she says.”
“What do you know that I don’t? Come on, Lydia, I have a right to know.”
“Yes, you do. Call her.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ask Alex.” I hung up before I said anything more. I’d already said more than enough.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A few hours later he knocked on my door. I could see by the wild look in his eye that he knew and didn’t like it a bit.
“She’s a dyke?” he burst out.
“She prefers the company of woman,” I corrected. “Gay, bi-sexual, who knows? After all, she’s an artist. They express themselves differently, don’t they?”
“Bullshit. I don’t want her living in a lesbian relationship in front of my kids.”
“I thought you’d feel that way. I’m sure Judge Van Dyke will take that into consideration as well. He’s a conservative man, and I suspect a tad prudish.”
“Good. I like prudish.” His eyes glimmered as he looked me over. “Maybe that’s one of the reasons I like you.”
I was wearing a stiff cotton shirt and linen pants, because I’d been out shopping at the mall.
“What’s that supposed to mean. That you think I’m prudish?”
“Well, just look at you.”
“I look fine.” I snatched my reading glasses off my face and put them on the desk. “What’s the other reason?” I asked, jutting out my chin.
“You’re a straight-shooter. I like that in a woman.”
“Why, thank you.” I pretended to withdraw pistols from the imaginary gun-belt riding low on my hips.
“You’re welcome, Oklahoma Annie.” He peered past me into the kitchen. “Have you had dinner?”
“No. I had some yogurt an hour ago.”
“Then get dressed. I refuse to take no for an answer. Someplace elegant. Maybe a little dancing…”
Oh, hell. Why did he have to keep asking? It was hard enough to refuse once, and harder still a second time. Especially face to face. I wondered if he’d figured that out.
“No. I really can’t.” I took my prudish self behind the desk to get further away from him. Every time he got close to me, I lost all sense of reason.
“Yes, you can.”
We stared at each other and I felt my mouth go dry and my stomach did a little flip-flop thing. I felt silly, like a girl with a crush.
I shook my head. “Nope. For all accounts and purposes you are still a married man.”
He smiled and my heart practically leaped out of my chest. “You have to do better than that.”
I bit my lip. “No, I don’t. You know the reason.”
“Lydia. I promise to keep the chemistry under control. I won’t let you get carried away.”
I laughed. Any man who stayed that long in a loveless marriage because of his kids had to be part saint. My stomach rumbled and his brows rose. “Well, okay, if you promise.”
“I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
I rummaged through my closets and found something my old boyfriend Stephen had liked on me. I’d bought the Valentino at my favorite Barely Used Boutique, so I didn’t mind the fact I’d only worn it twice. It was midnight blue, with a form-fitting halter top that exposed my shoulders and bare back and molded my breasts like a second skin. It nipped in at the waist and hips and was extremely figure flattering. I need all the help I can get, considering my body type is more athletic than sexy and could probably benefit from implants.
I decided to pin my hair up, letting just a few strands loose, and took extra care with my make-up. I put on my diamond earrings that Stephen bought for my birthday, a delicate necklace that nearly matched and my only pair of Jimmy Choo shoes.
The look on Jed’s face when he picked me up was worth the effort.
“Hey, you. Am I in the wrong apartment? I came to pick up a prude.” He flashed his killer smile, “and found a fox instead.”
“The prude went to bed early and sent me in her place.” I laughed, taking his arm as we headed out the door.
We walked into the SkyBar at the Shore Club, one of the hippest spots on South Beach. The bar is not in the sky but behind the hotel, in the twin pool area adjacent to the beach. I refused a cocktail but sipped on Perrier while Jed had a single malt scotch. We were in a people-watching place, full of secluded nooks offering a degree of privacy for those who sought it. It was one of those beautiful moon-lit nights that made a person wish for things they knew they didn’t want—things like a gentle caress, a bone-melting kiss, or the feel of a man between your thighs.
> “Why did you give me the tip-off about Alex?” he asked me at dinner.
“It wasn’t a tip, although I probably shouldn’t have said anything.” He reached out for my hand but I snatched it away. Self-preservation technique I’d learned years ago.
“I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong.” His jaw was working and I could see something was on his mind. Something unpleasant.
“What happened?”
“Not now. What happened this afternoon was pretty ugly. I don’t want to rehash it while I’m here with you.”
“Will you tell me later?”
“Sure. If you invite me in.”
I wasn’t gonna let him know that his brand new box of condoms had been on my mind. I turned my attention to my delicious dinner. It was a special of the day—a grilled Florida tail over linguini, with a trio of clams, scallops, and mussels in a roasted garlic, sweet basil, and tomato sauce. It was delicious, particularly now that I was enjoying the taste of food way more than normal.
“You know, as soon as Alex mentioned Tisha’s name I remembered things. Things like a week they’d spent in the Cape together. And several weekends in Key West.”
“Didn’t you ever get suspicious?”
“No, they were both dancers. Alex always said they were invited to some cultural event, and I was happy to see her go. She was always happier when she came back and now I know why.”
I smiled. “Key West and the Cape, most likely Provincetown. Boy, did you miss all the clues.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Eat your dinner and stop laughing.”
While we were driving home, Jed told me about the confrontation he’d had with Alexei that afternoon.
“I knew where Tisha lived, so I went to her townhouse and knocked on her door. I could hear music in the background, and figured they were inside. Nobody answered, so I buzzed until my finger grew numb. Finally, I heard footsteps. Tisha said something rude, ending with ‘whatever it is, we don’t want it.’ So I answered, ‘I’m from Reader’s Digest Clearing House. You just won a million dollars. But if you…’
The Candy Bar Complete - 4 book box set: Candy Bar Series Page 14
