Bittersweet

by Noelle Adams

  “Nothing bad. I was just surprised that he had so much say in the process. It’s your house.”

  “Of course, it’s my house, but he’s my friend. You know that.”

  “Yes, I know. But you have other friends, and you didn’t ask them for advice over retiling the fireplace or picking out a picture for your bedroom, did you?”

  Zoe started to make a sharp, defensive remark, but managed to hold her tongue. She felt annoyed—not because her mother was being pushy but because Zoe was overwhelmed by a wave of guilt and confusion.

  The truth was Adam had been heavily involved—not just in filling the rooms and walls of her new home but in actually picking out the house itself. It had seemed perfectly natural, but maybe it wasn’t.

  Zoe's own personal style was so eclectic that it could take any number of shapes. She'd loved her loft apartment and, in many ways, it had looked like Zoe. But it had also looked like Josh.

  This house looked like Zoe. It was filled with things she loved.

  But it also looked like Adam.

  She'd never even thought about that before.

  Finally, she said, “Yeah. But they don’t have all the contacts and resources that Adam has. He’s been a huge help.”

  “I’m sure he has. It just seems like the kind of help a boyfriend or husband would provide more than a cousin-in-law.”

  Zoe felt her cheeks burn even hotter. “Don’t start with that again, Mom.”

  “Start with what?”

  “Don’t play innocent with me. You know exactly what I mean. “

  Her mother smiled. “Of course I do. I was just trying to pry, like a mom does. But you’re crazy about him—you can’t tell me that you’re not—and he’s like family to you. Honey, I’m not seeing where the hang-up is.”

  “You know exactly what the hang-up is. I was married to his cousin.”

  Her mother gazed at her for a long time, and her expression transformed from the amused scrutiny of before to something gentle, almost soft. “I don’t think that’s the real hang-up. Maybe there was some of that early on, but now I think you’re using it as an excuse.”

  “An excuse for what?”

  “I know how much you loved Josh. No one is ever going to doubt that. But he’s gone. I’m so sorry, sweetie, but he’s gone now. But you’re still here. And Adam is still here. And I can’t think of a reason in the world why you shouldn’t be happy.”

  * * *

  A couple of nights later, Adam came over for dinner. He brought over some fresh salmon and scallops, and they grilled it up with vegetables and ate it with crusty bread and white wine.

  Logan had some bread and vegetables, but mostly he ate macaroni and cheese.

  Over dinner, Adam talked with Zoe about work and with Logan about everything the boy had seen at the train museum, where Zoe had taken him that afternoon.

  After dinner, they all took a walk in the park across the street. It was a beautiful fall evening, and the setting sun cast streams of golden light on the trees, grass, and sidewalks.

  Zoe felt happy and relaxed when they got back home. Adam helped her give Logan a bath and then put him to bed. She’d expected Adam to leave after Logan went to bed, as he normally did. But instead he sat back down on the couch, and they ended up finding an old movie they could watch on television.

  As the night got later and the movie drew to an end, Zoe started to wonder what it would be like to date Adam, to be in a romantic relationship with him.

  She tried to imagine it, and she had to conclude that it wouldn’t be much different than the kind of evening they’d had tonight.

  Except in the way the night would end.

  That was probably not the best line of thought for her at the moment. She shifted uncomfortably on the couch as she visualized herself getting up, taking Adam by the hand, and pulling him into her bedroom.

  He’d been wearing a business suit when he came over, but he’d taken off his coat and tie and was now dressed in black trousers and a wrinkled French blue dress shirt. His features were relaxed as he watched the movie, his hair irresistible rumpled in the flickering light of the room and his lips uncharacteristically soft.

  Her body reacted to the sight of him on the couch beside her. A tension deepened in her gut, between her legs. And her chest ached with something else at the same time.

  He looked so much like Adam.

  He looked so much like he might be hers.

  But she just didn’t know if that could—or should—ever be true.

  She fought to focus on something else, which made her grow tenser and tenser as the movie continued.

  “You okay?” Adam asked, slanting her an observant look.

  “Yeah,” she said with a smile. “Fine.”

  His eyes rested on her for another moment before he turned back to the movie.

  When it ended, they both sat on the sofa, looking at the blank television screen.

  “Well,” Zoe said at last. “I guess it’s getting kind of late.”

  It was almost midnight.

  “I guess so.” Adam met her eyes and looked like he was going to say something.

  Zoe waited, for some reason holding her breath.

  There was a pregnant pause, during which Adam actually opened his mouth to speak. She was sure he was going to say something, sure it was significant.

  Her heart started to pound in expectation.

  Then he gave his head a brief shake and stood up, stretching out his back as he did.

  Feeling stupid that her heart was racing in anticipation of nothing, Zoe stood up too and asked, “Is your back bothering you?”

  “Sometimes. It’s an annoyance more than anything else.”

  Zoe walked with him to the kitchen to get his jacket and tie from the chair he’d draped them over. “You should take some leftovers home,” she said, starting to fill up a little container for him. As she did, she continued their previous conversation. “I can just imagine how frustrating it is for a super-man like you to be troubled by such a pedestrian physical ailment.”

  Her voice had been light and playful, but Adam frowned in response. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” she said quickly, worried she’d unintentionally offended him. “I was just teasing. I meant you never seem to get sick and always seem to have it all together.” She handed him the container of leftovers, which he accepted without comment.

  He seemed to think about her words as they walked to the front door. But he didn’t reply until they stood facing each other in the entry hall. His voice was quiet as he said, “You know very well I don’t always have it all together.”

  “I know that. I was honestly just teasing. But the back pain is really frustrating for you, isn’t it?”

  Another short pause. Then, “Yes. It is.”

  “I think it must be more frustrating for you than for someone else. Something you can’t fix. Something you can’t control.” She was speaking seriously now, trying to articulate a truth she understood about his nature that she hadn’t understood a year ago.

  For some reason, she wanted for him to know that she understood him in this way.

  Adam’s lips parted slightly as he stared at her, something deep and wordless in his eyes. Then he breathed, “Yeah.”

  His expression changed slightly and he added, “But the back pain is quite minor compared to other things I can’t fix and can’t control.”

  Zoe’s chest ached again at these words, at everything they might signify. “Oh Adam,” she whispered, an impulse she couldn’t possibly resist compelling her to reach out and pull him into a hug.

  He hugged her in return for a minute, his warm, strong body easing that ache in her chest. Then he pulled back, but not all the way. His mouth quirked with an unexpected humor. “That wasn’t supposed to be sob story. Just a statement of fact. But the hug was nice just the same.”

  She choked on a laugh and gave him a playful slap on the chest. “I know it wasn’t a sob story. I’ll
have you know that wasn’t a pity hug.”

  “Then what was it?” Adam’s eyes were smiling too, but a different resonance thickened in the air between them as they stared at each other, Zoe’s hands resting unconsciously on his shoulders.

  “It was just a hug.” Zoe’s voice shook a little on the last word as she experienced a surge of desire and feeling. She tried to make herself step back and pull her hands away, but she couldn’t do it.

  “I see.” Adam seemed trapped in the moment as well. Then his eyes blazed hot and he bent his head down toward hers.

  Before Zoe could process what was happening, he was kissing her.

  And there was no way she couldn’t respond.

  In one hand, Adam still held the little container of leftovers, but the other hand slid up to tangle in her hair, his fingertips caressing her scalp. His lips at first were gentle, questioning. But as she opened to his tongue and wrapped an arm around his neck, the kiss deepened.

  Pleasure and exhilaration shuddered through her as she tried to press herself against him, wanting to feel him as much as she could.

  Then, just as an intense arousal began to tighten between her legs, Adam pulled back.

  They stared at each other, both panting, for a long moment. Then he leaned down to press another soft kiss on her mouth. “And that,” he murmured, “was just a kiss.”

  He left, before Zoe could begin to sort out what had just happened, what it might mean.

  She tried to think things through as she locked up the house, checked on Logan sleeping in his own room, and got ready for bed. But finally she just gave up.

  There was no way she was going to make any rational sense of this right now—not in the aftermath of that amazing kiss.

  It seemed ludicrous that she would feel so giddy, so exhilarated, so absolutely delighted over something as simple as a kiss. And a kiss from a man she’d always assumed couldn’t be a possibility for her.

  But she was. She felt giddy. And it was something she hadn’t felt in such a long time.

  So, for once, she let herself enjoy it.

  Fourteen

  The next day was just as beautifully cool, sunny, and crisp as the previous one, so—after working most of the day—Zoe took Logan for a walk again in the park in the evening.

  Logan loved to watch the squirrels and birds and to run on the tree-lined paths, but this evening he was rather grumpy.

  “Un-Cla Lala?” he asked, twisting his neck to look up at her from his position in the stroller. She always put him in the stroller as they crossed the street, but he highly disapproved of staying in it once they reached the park.

  “No, Uncle Adam isn’t coming with us today,” she said gently. She’d told him the same thing earlier, which had led to his initial crankiness. “It’s just Logan and Mommy today.”

  “Un-Cla Lala pock.” Logan faced forward again with his little chin jutting out. He looked like he might be on the verge of a tantrum, something Zoe really hoped wouldn’t happen.

  “Uncle Adam isn’t coming to the park with us today. He can’t be with us every day. We’ll probably see him tomorrow.” She kept her voice light and upbeat, with the faint hope her son's mood would improve.

  She’d talked to Adam briefly on the phone earlier in the day, but both of them had been busy so the conversation had been mostly just to touch base. Zoe had felt ridiculously shy as she talked to him, but neither one of them brought up the kiss the previous night.

  She was lost in thought as she crossed the street to the park, and so she wasn’t as vigilant about improving Logan’s mood as she should have been. He’d been squirming in the stroller and, when they got to the park and she let him out, he sat down hard on the sidewalk. “Cla Lala pay Lo-Gen!” Then immediately he burst into tears.

  Cursing herself for being too distracted to nip the tantrum in the bud, Zoe picked Logan up, ignoring the flailing of his arms and legs. “Uncle Adam can’t play with Logan today. You know he doesn't always come to play with us every day.”

  She tried to keep her voice calm and pleasant, since she knew it would only distress him more if she got annoyed or upset, but it was hard to maintain her composure when her son was screaming in her ear and trying to squirm his way out of her arms.

  “We’ll see Uncle Adam tomorrow,” she promised, squeezing him comfortingly.

  She could hardly be surprised that the little boy had attached himself to Adam. He was the only man who filled the father-role for Logan.

  Otherwise, Zoe was the only parent Logan had.

  At the moment, she felt like a sad excuse for a parent, since her nineteen-month-old son was screaming at the top of his lungs in the middle of a public park because she’d been too wrapped up in silly romantic questions to keep him happy.

  “Don’t you want to go look at the squirrels?” she asked, as bright and enthusiastic as she could manage. She gestured over toward the wooded area. “It looks like there are lots out today.”

  Logan’s screaming broke off momentarily as he looked in the direction she indicated, his tear-filled brown eyes focused on the trees. But then, evidently insufficiently enthralled by this commonplace pleasure, he started to wail again.

  Zoe sighed and jiggled him on her hip, on the verge of putting him back in the stroller and wheeling him home.

  Then something else caught her eyes. “Oh, look. A doggie!”

  Logan’s head jerked over in the new direction, and his crying faded out almost comically as his gaze fixed on the golden retriever catching a Frisbee in the wide green lawn.

  “Look at how he can catch the Frisbee,” Zoe gushed, ridiculously grateful for the young man who’d happened to bring his dog to the park at just this time. “Do you want to go watch him?”

  “Doggie!” Logan cried, struggling to get down from her arms. “Doggie pay!”

  Seeing that his mood had transformed, Zoe let him down and took his hand so they could walk closer to where the dog was playing.

  They watched for a while until Zoe smelled something distinct in the air.

  She glanced around instinctively until she saw where the smoke was coming from.

  One of the houses in her row was on fire.

  The whole house wasn’t consumed yet, but there was smoke billowing out of the top windows.

  Since a small crowd had gathered in front of the house, the fire had obviously already been reported.

  So Zoe called Adam instead.

  Logan was still watching the dog play, but Zoe’s face had gone white and her hands had gotten clammy.

  The house wasn’t the one right next to hers, but it wouldn’t take much for a fire to take out the entire row.

  Her house. All of her stuff. Everything she had left of Josh.

  Adam didn’t answer, so she disconnected, her knees feeling unsteady.

  A few minutes later, she’d taken Logan to sit on a park bench. He was fascinating with the fire engines that had arrived, and there was no way to tear him away.

  Zoe, her hands still shaking, texted Adam. Are you there? Call me if you can.

  It looked like everyone had gotten out of all the houses in the row. No one should be hurt.

  But it could have been her house.

  She and Logan could have been in it.

  Adam could have been in it.

  This wasn’t a real crisis—it just wasn’t—but Zoe felt panic overwhelming her just the same.

  ***

  A half-hour later, Adam arrived.

  His car dropped him off on the street next to the park. He was talking on his phone intently as he got out—maybe arguing more than talking.

  He saw them, though, and started toward them.

  She didn’t care if he was sweating and distracted and looking like he was on the verge of strangling someone.

  He was Adam, and he was here.

  Logan had been sitting on her lap, since she’d felt needy and in need of some cuddling, but the boy slipped out of her grip now and charged over toward his uncle,
jabbering out his enthusiasm in rather garbled exclamations. He fell once but popped back up and continued running down the sidewalk.

  Zoe jumped up to try to catch him, but she was still shaky, and Logan reached Adam before she did. Still talking on the phone, Adam scooped up Logan with one arm and hugged his little nephew against him.

  Adam’s grip on Logan was so tight she could see the tension in his stance. For just a moment, Zoe saw emotion transform his face. And she realized he’d been scared for Logan. Scared for her.

  Even knowing the fire wasn’t any sort of threat to them.

  He hung up before he’d reached her. “They don’t know anything yet.”

  Somehow, she wasn’t surprised that, as soon as he’d heard what happened, he’d gotten on the phone and used all the Peterson influence to bully information out of local officials who couldn’t possibly have any details yet.

  She almost smiled at him.

  He reached out with his free arm and took her face in his hand. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “We’re fine.”

  “What’s the matter, baby?”

  “Nothing.” She wished her response could be more convincing, but she was pale, still trembling. “I just want to go home.”

  “They suggested you shouldn’t stay there tonight. They’ll need to investigate the cause of the fire, and if it’s wiring or anything…”

  She hated the thought of a hotel, when she really needed the security of her house right now. “Okay. That makes sense.”

  To her dismay, a tear streamed down her cheek.

  She turned her face away so Adam wouldn’t see and think she was a pitiful wreck.

  He saw anyway and gently brushed it away with his thumb. “Will you and Logan please stay with me tonight?”

  * * *

  Two hours later, Zoe put Logan to bed in one of Adam’s guestrooms—the one with two twin beds. They’d given Logan a snack and a bath, and then the boy was so sleepy he could barely manage to claim he wasn't tired and didn’t want to go to bed.

  When she pulled the door shut, Adam was waiting in the hall. “Is he all right?”

  “Yeah. He’s fine. He can sleep anywhere.”

  Adam studied her face carefully. “What about you? Do you need anything?”