From A Distance

by L. M. Carr

  “God,” my mother sighs, “he is perfect for you.”

  I open the fridge and grab the container of heavy cream.

  “Where was he five years ago?”

  Right there. Right in front of me. Loving me…from a distance.

  I ignore her comment and set about beating the white liquid until it’s light and airy.

  “Have you thought about where you’re going to live? You can always move back home until you find the right house.”

  Turning the hand beater off, I glance at my mom with appreciation.

  “Thanks, but Tyler and I will figure it out. It would be weird living in the same house with you and dad.”

  “Oh, stop! I’ll wear clothes when you’re home!”

  “Ma!” I flick whipped cream in her direction.

  “Don’t waste it! I was going to save some for later tonight.”

  “Oh my God, Mom! Do you realize it’s not normal to talk to your child about your sex life?”

  “You’re almost thirty years old, Karrie. You’re not exactly a child.”

  She may have a point, but I still don’t want to hear the details.

  “And besides, sex is a natural part of relationships. Don’t you have sex with Tyler?”

  “Not talking about this with you,” I repeat on autopilot.

  “Has your endometriosis been bothering you?”

  “Ma!” I grit.

  My mother rolls her eyes.

  “I delivered babies for nearly thirty years. I used words like vagina, labia and clitoris.”

  “Are you sure you’re my mother? I must’ve been switched in the hospital!”

  “Sweetheart, you know I’m teasing.” She reaches for my forearm. “Seriously though, are you okay?”

  My expression softens and I nod when I see the genuine concern in her eyes.

  I deliberate on how to be tactful with my mother; she is, after all, my mother.

  “Tyler is wonderful. He’s much more considerate of my needs than anyone has ever been.”

  “So he makes sure you orgasm first then.”

  Gone is the gentleness on my face quickly replaced by a flush of embarrassment.

  “This conversation is now over. Forever.” I flick the beater back on and drown out her laughter.

  Tyler follows my dad into the kitchen, laughing about how funny it would be to see me on ice skates.

  “Why is that so funny?” I challenge, feeling slightly offended.

  Dad offers mock sympathy, “You’re not exactly the most athletic person, remember?”

  “I can ice skate! As soon as the pond by your house freezes, I’ll prove it!”

  “This I can’t wait to see,” Tyler says, digging into his piece of the sweet potato pie my mom brought over.

  “Is this from Susie’s?” I ask around my fork.

  My mom grins, confessing, “I thought I could pass it off as my own.”

  “I’d know her desserts anywhere.” I shovel another forkful into my mouth.

  Tyler’s phone rings and he sets his fork down, reaching into his pocket before looking at the screen.

  “It’s my mom. Do you mind if I take it?”

  My eyes widen in surprise that he would even ask me.

  “Of course not!”

  Tyler is not only considerate in the bedroom, but he’s considerate in so many other ways. A few nights before, his phone rang incessantly from an unfamiliar number so he let it go to voice mail. When the person called again, he silenced his phone because we were curled up on the couch watching Game of Thrones. I told him to answer if, but he insisted that spending time with me was more important than a phone call which was probably about work anyway.

  He rises from the table and walks into the living room before connecting the call.

  “I’m considering a motorcycle,” my dad announces, looking from my mother then to me. He knows he’s shocked us both.

  With narrowed eyes, my mom asks, “What do you mean considering?”

  “You hate racing!” I add.

  “Who said anything about racing?” He lifts the cup of coffee and sips slowly. “I’m thinking about a nice touring Harley….” He glances at my mom, gauging her reaction before continuing. “We could take it out on Sunday afternoons.”

  “Like an old couple?” The spirited smirk on my mother’s face matches the humor in her eyes.

  He shrugs nonchalantly. “Well then, I’ll just have to stop by the senior center to find some little cutie to hop on the back and ride with me.”

  My mother snaps her teeth, slaps his arm and laughs along with him, knowing full well he’s teasing.

  But I stiffen. Thankfully it goes unnoticed.

  My thoughts drift to Penny as my parents’ conversation fades away.

  A million questions swirl around my mind from pre-natal care to college. How will she provide for this child? Will she even keep it?

  Tyler walks back into the room and the anxious look on his face has me worried immediately. I rise and meet him in the middle of the kitchen, placing my hand at his waist.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Tre.”

  Panic sinks my heart. “What’s wrong with Tre? Is he okay?” Unimaginable thoughts creep into my head about losing this little boy or that he might be hurt. He means so much to Tyler; his brother’s living legacy.

  “He’s not hurt. At least not physically.”

  I don’t appreciate the cryptic responses.

  “Please tell me what’s going on,” I demand.

  “His mom is getting married and they’re moving.”

  Disappointment, frustration and utter helplessness combine and leave a heavy expression on his face.

  “Oh no! I’m so sorry!”

  I lean in and snake my arms around his back, rubbing the muscles of his strong back. Beneath my fingertips, I feel him inhale and exhale roughly.

  “Where are they going?”

  “Georgia.”

  Listening to Tyler explain how Jill, Tre’s mom, is moving because her fiancé was offered a better job is heartbreaking because I can tell he’s completely torn by this. Tre will be provided with more opportunities, but he’ll also be so far away.

  “When are they leaving?”

  Tyler’s throat constricts. “In two weeks.”

  “Right after the New Year?”

  He looks away thoughtfully, his lips tightening into a hard line before he nods.

  “Then we need to make this the best Christmas for him. For you.”

  “What are you two whispering about over here?” my mom asks with a smile.

  I sigh and throw her an exasperated look which thankfully she understands.

  “Dad and I are leaving. The kitchen is all set and leftovers put away.”

  A swell of appreciation rises for my parents; two people who would do or give anything for me.

  After hugs and quick kisses goodnight, Tyler and I crawl into bed and create a list of all the things he wants to do with Tre in the next two weeks.

  “I really wanted to get him a dirt bike for his birthday in April.”

  My head lifts from his bare chest where my fingers glide, trailing up and down his scar.

  “A dirt bike? He’s only five!”

  “It’s never too soon to learn to ride.”

  “Yeah, but does Jill want him to ride?”

  His eyes harden briefly. “My brother would’ve wanted that.”

  I nearly draw blood as I clamp down on my tongue. My finger stills on his chest.

  Thomas Strong was nothing like his brother. He was a reckless and selfish man who took from people and gave nothing in return. A man who got a woman pregnant and then tried to deny it. He was killed before Tre was born. It wasn’t until Stacy saw the newborn that she realized the truth; the baby was indeed Thomas’ son. From that day forward she vowed to support him in lieu of her son’s absence. I give Jill credit for naming her son after his father and grandfather when neither man was faithful.

 
“Does it bother you?”

  “What?” I hum.

  “Does my scar bother you?”

  His question draws me away from angry thoughts about his brother and …

  I rise to an elbow and look at him as a million questions stand in line, preparing to fall from my lips.

  Shock widens my eyes when they meet his.

  “God no! Why…why would you think that?”

  I swallow the ball of emotions before pressing a long slow kiss directly onto the pink seam dividing his chest.

  Tyler stares at me thoughtfully, and I immediately wonder what he’s thinking.

  “Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if—”

  “Tyler,” I plead. “Please don’t finish that sentence.”

  “I guess I was thinking about my brother and how his life ended. My mom almost lost both her sons. Tommy wasn’t perfect and he did some really stupid things, but when push comes to shove, he was my brother.”

  I sigh, feeling guilty for having thought badly about Thomas mere moments before.

  “I want to do things with Tre that my brother can’t do. And now he’s leaving. I thought I’d have a lot more time with him.”

  I crawl closer and cover his body with my own, snuggling into the crook of his neck, breathing him in.

  “You’ll have to make a point to keep in touch with him.”

  “It won’t be the same. That kid…he’s like my son.”

  An ache cripples my heart.

  “Do you want kids?” I ask hesitantly, almost afraid of his response.

  “I didn’t think I did, but now that I have Tre, I think I’d be a good dad. I definitely wouldn’t leave my kids for anything or anyone.”

  I detect the resentment and disappointment in his voice. His father’s leaving still hurts.

  “Maybe someday we’ll have kids.”

  “You’d want to have kids with me?”

  My eyelashes flutter quickly as my brain struggles to understand his question and suddenly I feel a sense of dejection.

  “You don’t want to have kids with me?” I ask quietly.

  Tyler flips me over and hovers above me.

  “Baby, I want a whole sports team with you! Enough boys to field a football team and enough girls to cheer them on!”

  “What?” I shriek, pushing his face away, denying him my mouth. “That is the most chauvinistic and misogynistic thing I’ve ever heard you say!”

  “No it’s not. Football is a rough sport. I wouldn’t want my baby girl getting hurt.”

  “And what if she wanted to race?” I cock an eyebrow probingly.

  Tyler sucks in air, hissing from the side of his mouth. “I don’t know.”

  “I do! My kids, girls or boys, will be able to do anything they want.”

  He laughs. “Look at you! Going all Momma Bear and you don’t even have kids yet.”

  Gazing into his eyes and searching his face, I caress his cheek slowly as I realize he will someday be my children’s father. He is the man I will spend the rest of my life with.

  I kiss his lips and thank God for sparing Tyler’s life and for giving me the opportunity to love him.

  “What’s that look for?” he asks.

  “This is my ‘let’s practice making a baby’ face.”

  Tyler rolls his hips, hitting my core, teasing me playfully.

  “Practice makes perfect.”

  “I CAN DO THIS!” I finally stand on the ice, extending my arms for balance. My knees wobble as Artic air whips against my face.

  “Come on, Bambi. You can do it.” Tyler skates backwards, playfully creating more distance between us.

  “It’s freezing out here! I hate this!” I yell as my back arches and my legs end up by my ears.

  Within seconds, Tyler comes to an abrupt stop after racing over to me. A spray of snow and ice shoot in every direction.

  “Are you ready to give up?” he asks, extending a thick black glove.

  I set my hand in his and he pulls me up.

  “I can skate. It’s just been a long time.” I pout, hoping a little mercy will be tossed my way. I thought I was off the hook after the first time he mentioned ice skating, but no, Pam had to bring it up last week in front of him. So much for confiding in her!

  Tyler wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me flush with his body covered in full winter apparel.

  “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”

  I huff. “I’m not trying to prove anything. I just want to enjoy the things you do.”

  A wry smile spreads across his rosy cheeks.

  “There are plenty of things I love to do that you enjoy…” He leans down and whispers in my ear. “And we both get satisfaction.”

  I shiver.

  “You cold?”

  I shake my head no.

  “That’s too bad. I was going to warm you up in our bed.”

  I howl with laughter as I repeat, “Okay! Okay! I’m freezing!”

  Back in his truck, he cranks the heat and snuggles close to me.

  “I love that you’re willing to try new things.”

  I stare at him, my cheeks flushing a deep crimson thinking about how comfortable we are with each other’s bodies.

  “I wasn’t referring to that, but that’s good, too.”

  I offer a long sensual kiss.

  “This summer, I’m going to teach you how to water ski.”

  “Great,” I murmur sarcastically.

  “You’ll be great and you’ll get your tan at the same time.”

  “I’ll get that at the track.” I stare pointedly.

  He gasps and asks, “You’re going to come with me?”

  Insecurity and doubt creep in.

  For so many years I stayed away from the track. Watching those men, one in particular, transform into arrogant assholes was something I didn’t want to witness; I had been living with the transformation on a daily basis.

  “Unless you don’t want me there.”

  “Are you kidding? I can’t wait!” he yells, his excitement nearly uncontainable.

  He smacks my mouth with a hard kiss.

  “I want you with me at every race. Every test and tune. Everything. Everywhere. Every time.”

  A little voice in my head whispers, “This man loves you.”

  ***

  EACH DAY OF the following week, we spend it with Tre, making the most of the time before he leaves for Atlanta with his mom and Jack. Stacy joins us for dinner several times that week when she’s not working.

  “You got him a dirt bike?” Jill queries, turning a shocked expression in Tyler’s direction with raised eyebrows.

  I smirk and suppress the comment, “I told you so.”

  A slight moment of panic flashes across Tyler’s face.

  “Jill, can I talk to you over here?”

  Jill looks at her son then nods and follows.

  Watching Tre jump on the bike, roaring and pretending to race makes me smile. He looks so much like Tyler with his light brown hair and bluish-green eyes.

  “Don’t forget this, buddy.” Jack, Jill’s fiancé, says, fitting the helmet on Tre’s head.

  I remember laughing out loud the first time I met them. I thought for sure they were joking with names like that.

  “Tre, will you come see Uncle T race?”

  The little boy glances up to his soon-to-be stepdad with hope in his eyes.

  “We’ll see, buddy. That’s up to your mom.”

  Tyler and Jill rejoin us and he drapes his arm over my shoulder, adding a kiss to my head.

  I toss him a questioning look, but he just smiles.

  “Mom, can we go see Uncle T race?”

  Jill laughs. “Maybe for April vacation or over the summer.”

  Tre jumps off the dirt bike and runs over, wrapping his arms around Tyler’s legs.

  “I’m going to miss you Uncle T!”

  I disengage myself from Tyler’s hold and give them a moment of privacy, stepping closer to the boy�
�s mom.

  “You sure you’re not too upset?” I ask Jill. “He couldn’t resist. He loves that boy so much.”

  “Nah, it’ll be okay. Jack can teach him after he teaches him to ride his bicycle.” She smiles at the man she plans on marrying.

  I liked Jill instantly when we met her at Tre’s hockey game. We laughed about the number of injuries kids sustained during the last Field Day she coordinated at her school. She doesn’t harbor any ill feelings toward Thomas; they had never been serious and she knew exactly who he was.

  “I had wanted to hump a hottie,” she said with humor in her voice. “And I did.”

  I comfort Tyler that night after he offers his nephew the usual mantra of “See you later,” rather than a goodbye. I didn’t realize how affected he would be until he tells me it hurts almost as much as the day he buried his brother.

  ***

  WEEKS LATER WITH Valentine’s Day just around the corner, an offer is finally made on the house and we eagerly accept it. Although Tyler refuses to give me a specific answer as to why he doesn’t want us to move back to his apartment, I know deep down it has something to do with him.

  Like me, Tyler wants to distance himself, free himself from all things A.P. We’ve moved forward and everyone else needs to do the same. No one says anything, but we notice the snickering and side glances when we go out or I stop by the job site to bring him lunch. We quickly got over the initial awkwardness of it all especially when the guys on the crew looked on and then swiftly turned away.

  Part of me is looking forward to race season; part of me is not.

  Our search for a new home continues, we rent a three-bedroom home on the other side of town. It’s a modest place, but the huge garage was the selling point. The bike Tyler’s been rebuilding is almost complete; a few more adjustments and minor changes will hopefully make it one of the fastest grudge bikes on the East Coast.

  Sitting on the top step that leads from the garage into the house, I watch with awe as he weaves an intricate web of wires, connecting them to different parts. The stretched cotton T-shirt over the curve of his back, the flexing of his tattooed biceps, the thickness of his thighs all drive me insane.

  “What are you thinking about?” Tyler asks knowingly, his eyes matching the lust in mine.