Mark might have asked if we wanted company today simply because he was lonely. I knew that companion myself all too well. But the difference in our lives was grinning at me twenty minutes later from his high chair while he gobbled down Cheerios. At least I had Tristan.
Tristan, who made a mess of Cheerios everywhere. Times like these I wished we’d gotten a dog. I could use someone cleaning up the dropped food on the floor. I’d thought briefly about it, but with Rob’s short temper and extreme mood swings, I didn’t think I could take on the responsibility. It would mean one more soul over which I’d have to keep a watchful eye.
The knock came, and I opened the door to a clean-shaven Mark. All thoughts about my ex-husband flew out of my head. God, was he handsome. And holy shizzles, did he smell good. It took everything in my being to keep from burying my nose in his shirt and sniffing him thoroughly. I opted to err on the side of non-crazy-town and resisted the urge to climb him like a spider monkey in heat.
“Hey,” he said.
Thankfully, my automatic response kicked in. “Hey.” Oh, yeah, I’m sure he could hardly contain himself from responding to the sexual confidence exhibited by my verbal prowess. I rolled my eyes internally and let him in.
“Did you eat breakfast?”
“No, not yet. But Tristan is finishing up. I’ll pack some snacks and his sippy cup; then we’ll be ready to go.”
“We could grab bacon sandwiches at this place about fifteen minutes from here if you like.”
“Sure. Sounds good.” I finished packing my backpack with all of the essentials in case of diaper changes, blowouts, meltdowns, hunger, thirst, and first aid. “Um, we’ll have to take my SUV because of the car seat.”
“No problem. If you want me to drive, I can. But I’m also a good passenger.”
His laid-back attitude was refreshing, especially since my ex had been overly irritable about every little thing. “Since you know the way, it would be great if you drove.”
After getting Tristan settled in the back, securely strapped into his car seat, we visited a drive-thru for breakfast and took off towards Mystic. Turned out once I got past the whole embarrassing-Mark-with-every-little-thing-that-came-out-of-my-mouth, he wasn’t as painfully shy as I’d first assumed. In fact, there was an adorable sarcastic side to him which both surprised me and made me laugh throughout the day.
The aquarium was a hit, and afterwards we got a Mystic pizza to go, something we took to a park where we found a bench. We all sighed with the flavor and oozy cheese, and Mark held up his soda to clink it towards mine. “Cheers to your first proper introduction to Connecticut.”
“I appreciate you taking the time today. Did you grow up here?”
He shook his head. “No. I grew up in Vermont. For undergrad, I moved to Boston. That’s where I met Brian and Josh. After that, I moved up here for law school.”
“And decided you loved it enough to stay?”
Something sad passed over his expression before he nodded. “Pretty much.”
“You have a house?”
“Yeah. It’s about ten minutes from the apartment building. Speaking of which, what’s happening with your house? Is anyone looking after it?”
I shook my head. “Not really. Alarm is set and the locks were changed a couple months ago. With Rob being in jail now, I’m not sure if the divorce proceedings will be delayed. Unfortunately, I can’t sell the house until we agree on the division of assets.”
Mark’s expression was sympathetic. “Did he have the arraignment?”
“Yep. Pleaded not guilty, which isn’t surprising. Now I guess it goes to trial. In the meantime, the judge did remand him to custody, so at least he remains locked up. Unless they can raise the twenty-five thousand for bail.”
“Are his parents still bothering you for it?”
“No, not since I changed my number, but Brian said they came by the office asking for me. They seem to forget I filed for divorce. Not only that, but he has a twenty-one-year-old girlfriend now. Why don’t they bother her for the money?”
“I’m sorry.” His eyes held a sincerity that left no doubt he meant it.
I made quick work of wiping Tristan’s hands once he was done with his pizza and then held out his sippy cup. “No. I am, for once again airing my dirty laundry.”
“It’s what friends are for. Although we only met a short time ago, I’d like to think we’re becoming that.”
Funny how words so sweet would be somewhat disappointing.
I’d been friend zoned.
Of course, I couldn’t blame him one bit. In fact, at this point, why in the world would I entertain the idea of anything more? It was a complication I definitely didn’t need. At least, that’s what I told myself as we packed up and headed back.
Mark wouldn’t hear of letting me schlep a sleeping Tristan upstairs and took him from me. Considering the kid weighed thirty-two pounds, I was happy to let him. I followed, carrying only the bag and leftover pizza. I fought the emotion of seeing my baby asleep on the strong shoulder of a man who had shown him more attention and kindness in one day than his own father ever had in his young life.
“Should I put him in his crib?” Mark whispered when we went inside.
“Sure. I might be able to get another hour of nap.”
Watching while Mark gently put Tristan down, I had to swallow the lump in my throat at the vision of such tenderness.
We both tiptoed out into the hallway, where Mark awkwardly put his hands in his pockets. “So, thanks for today.”
I smiled. “That’s my line. Um, I’m making a cheesecake tonight. You know, if you’re, like, around later.” Great, I was officially one ‘like’ away from being as stunted as a sixteen-year-old girl.
“I actually have some work to do.”
“Yes, of course. Thanks again for today, though. Maybe we could do it again sometime.” OMG. I couldn’t seem to stop. Suddenly I was in a hurry for him to leave. I wanted to be alone in order to beat my head on something hard. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
“Uh, sure. Okay, then. See you around.”
“Mm-hm. Yep. Sure thing.” I followed him towards the door and leaned against it once it was shut, feeling like an idiot.
Clearly, flirting was a perishable skill, and mine had expired long ago.
CHAPTER FOUR
Never make drastic hair decisions after ten o’clock at night, two beers in. If there was a lesson to be learned, that would be an important one.
I’d taken Tristan to the drug store after he’d awakened from his nap and come home with a box of color, one boasting a beautiful woman with luminous, light reddish-brown locks. I’d hoped to change my hair closer to my natural color—although who could honestly remember what it had been twelve years ago before I’d gone completely blond.
But instead my hair turned an unfortunate shade of pink. I couldn’t blame Ms. What’s-Her-Face, the name of the brand. The truth was I’d lost track of time while making a cheesecake and also should’ve done the test patch as the directions suggested. And now the bitch on the box was mocking me with her perfect locks, as if to say, “Don’t ask if your life can suck more. It can, indeed.”
Ugh. I’d only wanted to get rid of the blond hair my ex had loved on me since high school. Evidently, he had a thing for blondes considering his little girlfriend was platinum. Besides, nothing said reinvention quite like changing your hair color in the middle of the night, making it the exact opposite of what your ex would have wanted. I should’ve known better, though, than to do it on an emotional whim. A salon would’ve done the job right.
Deciding there was absolutely nothing to be done unless New Haven had a hair coloring delivery service, I went to bed with a wet head and hoped it would look better in the morning.
It didn’t.
Matter of fact, in the harsh bathroom light, my hair, now dry, appeared even worse. I could see a line of what could be assumed was the correct color on my roots, but this faded into a horrible pinkish/brown
hue when it reached the previously bleached portion of my tresses.
Any minute I had a toddler waking up which meant my options were limited regarding going anywhere to try to get the problem fixed. At least I had an Oreo cookie cheesecake to console me until I could do something about my hair. Perhaps later today I could take Tristan to the drugstore to get another box and go another round during his nap. For now, I shoved my offensive locks into a Charlotte Hounds cap and went about getting my adorable toddler out of bed.
While he was watching cartoons, I opened up the first math book I’d held in over eleven years. I was excited to get started on my classes, however thirty minutes later, I was ready to cry. I’d never been at the top of my class and if I’d imagined that the years had improved my math skills, the first assignment was proving me wrong. After shutting the book in frustration, I took out my English book. At least this subject seemed less intimidating.
Later that day while we were sitting down for lunch, a knock on the door got me excited it could be Mark. Then I remembered the state of my hair. Thankfully, it turned out to be a smiling Haylee at the door. Along with Abby in her baby seat, she was balancing two Starbucks in a drink tray. It was impressive.
“I come bearing coffee. Well, tea for me, but Sasha tipped me off that you’re a caramel latte kind of girl.”
I laughed. “I am. Thank you. Come in if you have time.”
“I do. I just got back from New York. Had dinner with Will last night. I hate that he’s moving back to Australia. Plus, I think he’s had something going on with Catherine, which means he’ll be leaving her behind, too.”
“Sorry to hear he’s leaving, and wow. How’s Catherine taking it?” She was a good friend of both Sasha and Haylee. I’d met her last weekend during our spa morning. Considering how sweet she’d been in giving me advice and wisdom about life post-divorce, I instantly felt sad for her about Will.
“Josh said she’s pretty torn up. But she sent an email about throwing a Halloween party. That’ll be her birthday, too. In it, she wanted to make sure I extended the invitation to you. She really hopes you can come.”
“To New York City?” I’d never been.
“Yep. We can trick-or-treat in the morning. There’s a trunk-or-treat thing for the little ones, where cars gather in a parking lot. That way, we can catch the train in time for the party.”
I knew this group of friends all did a lot of events, but the logistics sounded overwhelming to me. “Um, I think my mom is coming up that weekend.”
“Perfect. She could babysit. You can either go back that same night or stay in a hotel. Or she could come with Tristan if you prefer. If she wants to attend the party, then we have a babysitter in the city we’ve used a couple of times who is terrific.”
“Um, I’ll think about it.” Traveling to New York sounded like a lot. “Before I can go out in public, I’ve gotta schedule a rematch with Ms. What’s-Her-Name to fix my hair.”
“You colored your hair?”
“Attempted a change. Let’s just say it doesn’t look like the box.”
“I’m sure it’s fine. Let me see.”
I lifted the hat from my hair and watched her eyes widen along with her mouth, which formed an O. “Um, it’s not that bad.”
I giggled. “Liar.”
She smiled in return. “Okay, it’s not great. What happened?”
“I lost track of time. And I think I needed to leave it longer on the blond parts than the roots, but it’s kind of a moot point now.”
“You’re in luck. I have a classmate whose mom does hair out of her house. She’s cut mine and does highlights for a couple of the girls I know, if you’re interested in having her correct it.”
That sounded better and cheaper than a salon, which would probably charge a fortune. Plus, there were no guarantees another box off the shelf would fix the problem. In fact, I could make it worse. “Definitely. I think having someone who knows what they’re doing might be smarter than using another drugstore box.”
“I’ll send my friend a text now to see when her mom can fit you in this week. If there’s anything universal in girl code, it’s an SOS signal for a hair crisis.”
I laughed, thinking that was true. We each took a seat at my dining room table to chat more comfortably. “Thank you. Meanwhile, how’s school going?” I knew Haylee was a smarty-pants. She’d gone to Stanford and was now attending Yale law school. But she was also a mother a few months in, so juggling the two couldn’t be easy.
As evidenced by her sigh, she was feeling the strain. “It’s okay. I’m doing well in my classes, but I find myself distracted. I want to finish and I do want a law degree, but being separated from Josh is tough. We try to cram everything into the weekend, but it’s tough. Not that he complains. He’s been absolutely terrific and supports my dream of becoming a lawyer.”
I sipped my coffee and then was candid. Because frankly, I didn’t know how not to be. “Priorities change once you have a child. It’s simply fact. Is law school still what you really want?”
She seemed to contemplate the question. “You and Dr. Mac are the only ones to come right out and ask me that. Josh is afraid it’ll come across as unsupportive, and I guess I’m afraid to ask myself the question because I worked extremely hard to get here.”
“Sometimes we women are so invested in something that we lose sight of what we’re getting out of it. Glutton-for-punishment syndrome I call it.”
And yes, I was speaking about my marriage. How many times had I considered leaving until I thought about the thirteen years I’d invested in him?
“I’m not saying you should quit law school, especially if it’s your dream, but have you thought about modifying the situation? What about transferring to a school in New York so you can be with Josh during the week? Are there any good ones?”
She nodded. “Yeah, Columbia and NYU. I was accepted into both of them. Bigger class sizes, but at this point, I’m not sure I care. I’m not looking to sign with a top law firm. Matter of fact, I find myself wanting to be more a part of Josh’s brother’s charity, which is now taking off. It would be nice to be with my husband during the week. He isn’t keen on raising Abby in the city, but it would be temporary. I just feel bad with him buying this building up here for me to stay in, and we have a nanny, and—”
I stopped her there. “Haylee, he bought this building to keep housing costs low so you would choose a school near him back when you were dating. As for Natalie, she’s wonderful, but eventually you’re planning to move anyhow. You need to do what’s best for your family.”
“You’re right. Although I want to discuss this with Josh, he’d only say, ‘whatever you want.’ Of course, I’d need to make certain the transfer is possible.”
“So do that first. Then you have your options. Simply applying and telling him you got in will probably give you his raw reaction to you moving to New York.”
“The school wouldn’t be so different from here. I’d miss the beautiful campus, but not as much as I miss Josh during the week. He’d continue to travel, but he’s cut down quite a bit already.”
From the excitement in her voice, I could tell she was already halfway towards making the decision. “You sound happy about the possibilities, which I think tells you something.”
“I’ve been counting the days until the end of law school so we could move. So why do it if I’m miserable?”
“Exactly.”
“Have you met with Dr. Mac yet?”
I couldn’t help but blush in remembering my first encounter after I got him mixed up with the other Mark. “Uh, not yet. And I know I should. I will. I really don’t have any excuse.”
“I don’t mean to pressure you. Whether you see him or not is completely up to you. But he inquired about you the other day and wanted me to tell you he’s open if you ever wish to call him.”
I knew I needed to make an appointment, but my avoidance kept me in blissful denial that I was struggling. Sometimes not dealing with
emotions seemed a whole lot easier.
Haylee suddenly grabbed her vibrating phone. “Oh, it’s my friend calling about your hair.”
I listened while she described my unfortunate hair-color-from-the-box incident and was relieved when she asked, “Does tomorrow morning work? You can drop Tristan off with Natalie, and her mom can meet you at nine o’clock at her place. It’s about six miles from here.”
My nod could not be more enthusiastic. “That would be amazing.”
Haylee confirmed the time and paused, covering the phone with her hand. “Do you mind if I chat with her about our paper? It’s due later this week.”
I waved her off, not minding in the least. “Of course not.” Getting up, I poured more milk for Tristan and then heard another knock on the door. Since chances were it was Mark, I remembered my hat. Didn’t want to scare anyone else with the state of my hair.
“Hi.” I hadn’t expected to see him again this weekend. The fact that he appeared fresh from a shower, looking handsome in jeans and a flannel, practically had me giddy. I was a sucker for him in jeans.
“Hi, yourself. You, uh, going to a ballgame?” He pointed to the hat.
“No. Got into a fight with a chick on a box of hair color, and she kicked my butt.”
He quirked his head to the side in a familiar way. It practically said, ‘what the hell is this crazy girl talking about now?’ “Pardon?”
Wow. Even his manners were a turn-on. “Um. I attempted to color my own hair and it turned out kind of punk rock meets sad stripper.” Jesus. Sometimes I truly couldn’t help myself with the crap that came out of my mouth.
But he only grinned. “Do I get to see it?” There was a twinkle in his eye which had me grinning back.
“No way. This hat stays on until tomorrow morning. That’s when a woman Haylee knows will fix it for me.”
“Hm. You know I really want to see it now.”
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