Anne felt tears pushing against her eyelids as she stared in front of her.
“The same post is up from last night on the blog, the one about Mike going to your mom’s for dinner. I don’t know what they’re talking about, how would we be linked to Facebook … oh wait.” Callie got quiet.
“Oh God, is it hot in here or is it just me? Perhaps I need to turn the air on.” Anne started the engine and cranked up the AC as Callie pushed at buttons on her phone. Suddenly music started playing from the phone, music that Anne recognized all too well: It was the same “pony riding” song she’d heard at Smokey’s while she danced like a drunken hooker. She couldn’t even look in Callie’s direction, let alone watch the video. She knew exactly what it was.
After a moment that felt like an eternity they both sat without speaking. Callie continued to stare down at her phone, scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling. Anne couldn’t take it anymore.
“I can’t believe this, Cal, I really can’t believe it.”
“It’s going to be okay, sweetie. We’re going to get to the bottom of this, and when we do I’m gonna be kicking some butt and piling their body parts into a pink pastry box. But first you need to get Claire home and I’ll come over soon. But, Anne, you need to look at Facebook, there are a couple of things you need to see.”
* * *
She finally looked and it was bad, as bad as it could be. Some asshole had left an anonymous comment on the most recent blog post filled with links to Facebook. The Smokey’s Facebook page, to be exact, and the most humiliating one linked to the video of Anne and all her drunken glory dancing with a stranger. She was humiliated, ashamed, and deeply saddened.
She’d let her readers down, proven herself a fraud. She was supposed to be a wholesome, single mother who taught people how to make party favors. This video made her look like trash.
But as awful as that video was, it wasn’t the worst of it. The other links to the Smokey’s Facebook page were of photos, photos that included Mike and the blond girl that she’d seen at his shop previously. They were standing at the bar, heads close, her hands on his body. And they were dated exactly four days ago, the same night he came over and demanded Anne be waiting naked and ready. The night he’d texted that he needed her. The night had felt different and like more than just sex. The night she’d been so, so stupid.
And she was stupid still, because all she wanted to do was call him, but obviously that was no longer an option. Anne stared at the wall of her kitchen, her feelings a mass of confusion in her brain. She’d even told Claire to go play at the neighbors, which she rarely did.
She could no longer stomach reading the comments. They were—for the most part—loyal and coming to her defense. Things like “Everyone makes mistakes,” or “Anne deserves to have fun,” a few “You look great, Anne,” and all the more surprising, some threatening bodily harm on Anne’s “new boyfriend.” But as there always are, some people were looking to cast the first stone and loved to watch the mighty fall. How could a hundred “we support yous” get maligned by one “A good mother wouldn’t go out and get drunk like that.” Anne felt like crawling in to bed and staying for days.
She’d been able to track the IP address of the anonymous commenter, and found it to be local, but that didn’t help. It could be anyone in the Greater Kansas City region. She hadn’t known anyone at Smokey’s that night besides her friends and Mike.
She laid her head down on the kitchen table and took a deep breath. She had already deleted the comment with the links, and closed the post to new comments, but they’d moved over to Facebook and Twitter, places she couldn’t control. She did delete the shared video on the My Perfect Little Life Facebook page, but what good did it do? The original video said it had been shared twenty-six times already and had over two thousand comments. It was out there—viral—forever and ever.
The Internet, the place Anne had turned to for years for love and support, had brought her to her knees in more ways than one. With a few clicks someone had not only threatened her reputation and her career, but destroyed her heart as well. How could she have ever underestimated the power of an online community? She should’ve known a good thing couldn’t last forever, whether professionally or in love.
But no, no, she didn’t love Mike. She couldn’t have. She hadn’t even really cried yet, because what for? She’d known this was coming, it wasn’t a forever thing. Mike was young, hot, and way out of her league. Why wouldn’t he be seeing someone else, some hot young blonde in particular? But she was still numb, in shock.
A loud knock came from the front door and Anne jumped up to make her way to the living room. She saw Callie’s car out the window and her and Eric making their way to the front door. Apparently they assumed that Anne was currently a mess and needed to be checked on. They probably had assumed correctly, much to her humiliation. Anne opened the door and gave them a weak smile.
“Oh sweetie, how are you?” Eric threw his arms around Anne, and she hung on tight. It felt good to be held by someone big and strong, although he was the wrong big and strong she craved.
“I’m better,” she said into his chest. “Please tell me this was all a dream.”
“I wish,” Callie said as she pushed her way past them and sat down on the couch. Anne slowly pulled herself from Eric’s arms and turned to Callie. “I’ve had three customers ask me about it today at the shop.”
“Oh fuushhhiit.” Anne sat down and put her head in her hands. She should have just let the nasty words fly; Claire wasn’t home yet and she had every right to be flinging obscenities around.
“Anne, Eric and I have been assuring everyone that it’s no biggie, and everyone is supporting you. A lot of people have even laughed about it. You’re going to show whoever did this that this shit doesn’t faze you, got it?”
“Callie, this blog has been the lifeblood of my business and my life for the past three years. It puts food in my daughter’s mouth, and I’m proud of it. If people think I’m a horrible person…” She groaned. “Oh God, that video, I look like such a skank, and I didn’t even like that jerk.”
Nope, instead she’d brought another man home, and that turned out to also be a giant mistake. She couldn’t even bring herself to discuss the worst of it with Callie and Eric, although she knew they’d clicked on all the links and seen the photos of Mike. She was grateful to them for not mentioning it. She hadn’t spoken to Mike since he’d dropped her and Claire off at her house last night after dinner at Grandma Ree’s, and the thought that everything they’d said and done in the past few days had been a lie was destroying her.
“Look at the bright side, Anne,” Eric said. “You look hot as hell in that video.”
“Right? I still stand by that outfit.” Callie said with a weak smile.
Anne managed to laugh a little, a giggle that despite her best efforts turned right into pitiful tears. Uncontrollable sobs racked her body, and immediately Callie jumped from the chair and sat beside her on the couch to wrap her arms around Anne’s neck.
“Oh sweetie, don’t let this bitch get you down. So what, you had a couple of drinks at a club and danced like a stripper. We’ve all been there.”
“No lie,” Eric added.
Anne looked horrified, and Callie shrugged. It didn’t help even if they were teasing, although more than likely they were being completely honest. Anne was humiliated, ashamed, and devastated. “It’s more than that, Cal.”
“I know. It’s about Mike, too, we saw the photos. And damn it, he doesn’t deserve you. And you better believe that I’m gonna beat his ass.”
Anne loved Callie’s loyalty, but they both knew Mike could lay tiny Callie out with his pinkie—not that he would, because he was not that kind of guy. But why should she give Mike any credit? Clearly he was not as nice a guy as she had thought. At least not honest. But was that even fair? They’d never specifically discussed exclusivity, was she just an idiot for assuming it was implied? An idiot for thinking he wanted only
her? She had to have known the hot girl wasn’t delivering pizza that day she came to his shop. All the warning signs were there, she’d seen them, and chosen to ignore them. Her mistake.
She felt the tears burn at the corner of her eyes again when there was a commotion at the door. “Mommy,” said a muffled voice from the other side and Claire entered.
“Hi, baby.” Anne stood up and opened her arms to her daughter. “Did you have a good time with Veronica?”
“Yep, what’s wrong, Mommy?”
“Oh nothing, Eric just told me a sad story.” Anne smiled and waved her hand dismissively, not liking all this lying to Claire. “You know how Mommy cries at silly things sometimes. Now why don’t you run upstairs and get ready for gymnastics.”
Anne glanced at her watch. “Oh crap, gymnastics. Mike and Bailey were going to come by and get Claire and me? What am I gonna do?” In the stress of the day she’d completely forgotten they’d made those arrangements.
“When will he be here?” Callie asked.
“Twenty minutes maybe?” Anne answered.
“Well, leave now.”
“But he’ll still be there, even if I don’t ride with him.”
“Skip gymnastics tonight,” Eric said.
Anne nodded. That’s what would have to happen. She couldn’t spend a minute with him, much less an hour; she wasn’t ready. “Well, I need to text him now and tell him we’re not going.”
“Ooh yeah, good idea,” Callie said. “Before he gets here.”
Anne grabbed her phone and opened her text thread with Mike. It broke her heart to see his last text to her. It was just a random On my way, Perfect from yesterday before he picked her up to go to her mother’s. Damn him. Yesterday had been such a good day, and she’d felt such promise in the words he’d said. You make me happy, Anne.
She typed in a vague message saying something had come up, sorry but they were going to have to miss class tonight, and hit SEND. They were all sitting in silence when she heard the telltale rumble of his Camaro. “Shit!” she whispered loudly.
“Is that what I think it is?” Callie whispered.
“Damn, even his ride is hot,” Eric said, peeking out the front window.
“Eric! We hate him now,” Callie said.
“Doesn’t change the fact that he’s hot as hell,” Eric said.
Anne locked eyes with Callie. “He’s early. What do I say?”
Callie’s eyes were panicked. “I don’t know, keep it short. You can’t do this right now.” She angled her head toward the stairs where Claire was ascending.
There was a knock on the door and for a moment they all froze. Anne’s heart worked overtime in her chest and a pain shot through her at the thought of seeing Mike and not being able to touch him. Knowing that he didn’t feel what she thought he’d felt, or want her like she wanted him.
“We’re here for you.” Callie said quietly. “Just keep it cool.”
Anne nodded, ran her hands down her skirt, swiped under her eyes, and opened the front door. Immediately the air left her lungs. Of course he just had to look amazing in jeans and a baseball cap. He held Bailey’s hand but let it go gently to remove his sunglasses the minute he saw her. Oh gosh, she must look like she’d been crying.
“Anne? What’s wrong, babe? Is your mother okay?”
The sweet sound of his voice and the caring in his eyes was so painful. Of course it was just like him to immediately worry about her sick mother. Then again, she really didn’t know what was just like him apparently. She swallowed and did what she had to do.
“No, Mom’s fine,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’m sorry, you’re a little early. I sent you a text but you must have been driving. There’s been a change in plans. Claire and I are going to have to skip gymnastics tonight so you better go on without us.”
He was still for a moment, but then he shifted his weight to the opposite leg and put his hands in his pockets. If she was a body language expert she might know exactly what that meant, but her uneducated guess was that it was a symbol of pulling away, putting up a defensive wall. That was certainly how it felt.
“Okay.” His tone was quiet, his words drawn out and searching. “You wanna tell me why?”
“Ummm.” She heard commotion behind her and suddenly Claire pushed her skirt aside and peeked out the door.
“Hi, Bailey and Uncle Mike. We’re ready.” She stepped onto the porch, her purple leotard on, gym bag in her hand. She’d even put a matching bow in her now lopsided ponytail. “Let’s go, Mom.”
Anne managed to meet Mike’s eyes. His face was blank, his eyes assessing her, and jaw hard. They both ignored Claire tugging on Anne’s skirt.
“What’s going on, Anne?” he said under his breath, all kinds of angry warning in his voice. He was not happy and wanted her to know it without alerting the girls. Well, that made two of them. She wasn’t so happy herself.
“I’m sorry, Mike. It’s been a bad day, but not now. We’ll have to talk later.” Anne brushed her hair from her face and looked at the ground, unable to watch his narrowed eyes boring into her.
“Come on, are we driving in your cool car, Uncle Mike?” Claire asked. Anne wished Eric and Callie had been able to cut Claire off at the pass. Maybe they’d tried, but the way this was playing out was breaking Anne’s heart.
“No, baby, not this time.” Anne looked up to see Mike’s jaw clench at her words. Then he took a step toward her.
Panicked, Anne glanced over her shoulder at her friends. Callie sat on the couch and gave Anne an encouraging nod. So much for beating his ass. Anne pulled the front door shut a little more behind her.
“Anne, what’s wrong? Is someone in there with you? Is everything okay?” His voice had suddenly gentled, and she hated that she loved the sound of it so much. But it was the same voice he’d obviously used on some other woman Saturday night before he came over to her house. Just the thought reminded her of what she must do.
“Just Eric and Callie, and we can talk later, Mike. Claire, come inside, sweetie.”
He grabbed her arm and squeezed gently. “Anne, talk to me. Please.”
She painstakingly freed herself from his grasp. “Later, okay?”
She hated the tears in her voice and the moisture she knew formed in her eyes. Mike’s eyes rapidly scanned her face. He looked bewildered, panic-stricken. But most of all he looked hurt. It was all she could do not to reach out for him, comfort him and have him comfort her. Beg him to want her—only her—because she needed him to need her. Hadn’t those been his words the other night? Why had he said that after he’d obviously just left the arms of another woman? She couldn’t go there right now, she was barely holding it together. The girls were both standing on the walkway chatting, and they couldn’t have this discussion in front of them.
“I don’t know what to think right now, Anne. You have to give me something.”
“I’ve just been thinking Mike, and we need to talk, but not here. Not right now. Alone.”
For a moment he didn’t move a muscle. Then finally he took a step back and put on his sunglasses. “Fine. I get it.”
He turned suddenly and called to Bailey.
The girls started spouting words of confusion over the situation and when Anne clarified that she and Claire weren’t going to gymnastics, Claire started crying. She loved going and they’d never missed. “Just this time, Claire. Please don’t cry.”
“But I want to ride with Uncle Mike.” Her tears were real and her wails loud. Thankfully Eric rushed outside and scooped Claire up into his arms.
Mike turned to her one more time after pulling the front seat forward for Bailey to get in the backseat. “I don’t know what just happened, Anne, but I hope you’re sure it’s what you want.”
Twenty-Two
Mike sat in the upstairs viewing balcony at gymnastics and stared at his phone. Just as she’d said, he had been driving when he felt the text come through in his pocket, and not in a million years would he hav
e guessed it was Anne blowing him off. He still couldn’t believe that she’d done it. He read her text again.
ANNE: I’m sorry, something has come up and we’re going to have to skip gymnastics. I’ll talk to you later.
He’d been happy on the way over, excited, the way he felt every time he was about to see her. Something was going on and he needed to understand. He circled back to what the hell possibly could have caused Anne to pull away from him. He’d instantly assumed it was her mother’s health since she’d just shared the situation with him, but she’d said no. Plus, Marie had seemed okay the night before.
He glanced down the length of the empty wooden bench, remembering the look of pleasure on Anne’s beautiful face when he’d touched her right here. He’d do anything to go back in time and experience that moment once more. The fear that he’d never see or touch her like that again made him ache inside. He leaned forward and held his head in his palms.
He thought back to last night when he’d told her she made him happy. It had in fact been one of the most purely perfect moments of his entire life. He wasn’t ready to let that go. He tried texting her.
MIKE: Anne I need you to talk to me.
He waited for five minutes, knowing that she probably wouldn’t respond, and sure enough she didn’t.
After practice was over he took Bailey home, avoided any conversation with Erin, and went back to his shop. He focused on the Mustang until late, and before he went to sleep he tried to call her. She didn’t answer.
The next morning he got up early, worked some more, and prayed she would reach out. Of course she didn’t. No text, no call, no new blog post—because he’d checked several times throughout the morning. She had just up and decided to pull away. He’d never experienced anything like this. It made him furious and more than anything, it hurt.
God, did he miss her already. Their weekend had been great; they’d gotten close. Had they gotten too close? He knew that Saturday night had been intense, but Sunday morning had been good—more than good, it’d been perfect. They’d laughed and when he left they’d been happy. Or so he thought. Then the dinner at her mother’s—everything had seemed amazing, more than amazing. It had all felt right. The last post on her blog was the one where she mentioned taking him to her mother’s from Monday night. He’d loved that post so much, it had felt like a big step for her, and instead of scaring him like it might have in the past, it made him smile. Something had happened yesterday.
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