by Tawna Fenske
“That’s likely,” he said, feeling stupid for ever thinking he could pull the wool over her eyes. Feeling ashamed for even trying.
“Let me see your shoulder.”
“What?”
“Take off your goddamn shirt and turn around.”
Not sure what else to do, he complied. He turned slowly, braced for her to hit or punch or kick. He had no doubt he deserved it.
“Teufelshunde,” she said softly. “That’s your tattoo. Devil dog, the unofficial mascot of the United States Marine Corps. Half the men in my family had it on bumper stickers and T-shirts, for chrissakes. I’m such an idiot.”
“No,” Sam said, turning back around. “You’re not an idiot. Whatever you take away from this, don’t let it be that.”
She shook her head, blinking back tears. “I trusted you.”
“Let me explain.”
“I thought you were different. But you’re not. You’re just like they are.”
He wasn’t sure who “they” were, but he knew he shouldn’t be flattered by the comparison. He knew he should defend himself, but he honest to God couldn’t come up with one thing to say in his own defense.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said. “And I didn’t want to deceive you.”
“No? Well congratulations, Sam. You’ve gone and accomplished two things you didn’t set out to do. You deserve a fucking medal.”
“I was just following Mac’s orders—”
“With no thought at all to my feelings?” She shook her head. “I was betrayed once by a controlling military jerk, Sam. I wanted better for my boys. For me. Following orders is no excuse for lying. For pretending to be honorable when you’re anything but.”
Sam swallowed as the words struck a nerve. “I did it to protect you. To keep my word to Mac. To help you when I knew you wouldn’t want to accept help from someone like me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Spare me. I don’t need protection or help, I need honesty. You pretended to be someone you weren’t. You let me trust you, Sam. Do you have any idea what it’s like to trust again after your husband betrays you?”
He shook his head and struggled to come up with something comforting to say. There was nothing.
His eyes slipped to the laptop on his desk. To the words that said he’d been cleared of any wrongdoing.
Did it even matter now?
He looked back at Sheri.
“I’m sorry.”
“Get out,” she said. “I want you out of the house by morning.”
“Sheri, please.” He stepped toward her, aching to take her into his arms and make everything okay again.
She took two steps back. “You lied to me. Just like Jonathan. And you conspired with my stupid brothers and my stupid ex to turn me into a fool.”
“We were just protecting you, Sheri. That’s what this was all about. What everyone wanted. We just wanted to keep you safe.”
She shook her head, her expression fierce. “You wanted to keep me locked in a cage. You wanted to control me like every other asshole military douchebag in my life. You thought you could decide all by yourself what’s best for me, and keep me in the dark.” She took a breath, her shoulders sagging. “There’s no room in my life for liars, Sam. And there’s no room in the boys’ lives for men who set that sort of example. I want you out of my house and out of my life for good.”
“But the boys.” He swallowed back the lump in his throat at the thought of never seeing them again. It hurt almost as much as the idea of life without Sheri. “Who’s going to watch the boys?”
“I’ll figure it out. I’ll take time off work or beg my mom to come or work out something with Kelli. I don’t know yet, but it’s not your concern.”
He swallowed again, fighting to think of any other defense he might be able to offer. Everything sounded futile. Everything but the truth.
And there was still that.
“I love you,” he said, and the words sounded right the instant they left his lips, so he swallowed and tried again with more conviction. “I love you.”
She shook her head and turned away. “I can’t believe a single word you say.”
She walked out of the room, leaving a chill in her wake.
…
Sheri stared glumly into her empty teacup the next afternoon and sighed.
“We’re skipping the tea this time and going straight for the bourbon,” Kelli said, sloshing a healthy serving into Sheri’s mug before pouring some into her own and taking a seat at the dining room table.
Sheri looked around the room, trying not to cry. On the floor near the door was one of the beanie peacocks Sam had bought for the boys, its head cocked at a jaunty angle. At the edge of the counter sat a turquoise dish towel with a singed edge, the casualty of one of Sam’s attempts at dinner. A cookbook sat open beside the stove, its pages splattered with something green.
Sheri shook her head. “At least it all makes sense now.”
“What makes sense?” Kelli said, taking a sip from her mug and making a face.
“Why he wasn’t all that great in the kitchen.”
“As long as he was good in the bedroom, did it really matter?”
Sheri frowned and took a drink. “That’s not helping.”
“Try a bigger sip.”
“No, I mean reminding me I slept with Sam. With a man I didn’t know at all. Another knuckle-dragging military jerk who lied to me. Don’t you find the pattern disturbing?”
Kelli shrugged, considering the question. “Not really. I mean, we all have our types. Your brother, for instance. Emotionally unavailable egomaniac who doesn’t know I’m alive—totally my type. When are you fixing us up?”
Sheri rolled her eyes and took a bigger sip of her drink. It burned all the way down, but Kelli had a point. It did make her feel better. “The only way I’d fix you up with my brother at this point is if you pledged to cut off his testicles while he slept. Seriously, after what he did to me—”
“What exactly did he do to you?” Kelli interrupted, swirling her finger around the top of her mug. “I mean, I’m mad because you’re mad, and I’ll insult the genitals of every male on the planet if it’ll help. But I’m not sure I understand what your brother did that was so awful.”
“He lied to me,” Sheri snapped. “He said he scoured the ends of the earth to hire the best possible nanny, and that Sam was it.”
“Well, he kinda was, wasn’t he? I mean, the boys loved him.”
I loved him, Sheri thought, then wanted to scrub her brain with a Brillo pad. Where the hell had that come from?
“Mac knew I was done with overbearing military assholes, and knew I didn’t want some meathead like that watching over me,” Sheri said. “So what did he do? He lied to me and hired the meathead anyway, and they all played me like a fool.” She blinked back tears of betrayal, tears that tasted just like the ones she’d cried when Jonathan left. “They all lied to me—Jonathan, Mac, Sam—every single one of them.”
Kelli set her mug down and reached for Sheri’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Honey, you’re my very best friend, and you know I’ve got your back through anything. And I know it sucks feeling like everyone but you was in on the scam. Even your idiot ex, for crying out loud. That’s lousy, no doubt about it.”
“But?” Sheri prompted, bracing herself for a dose of Kelli’s tough love.
“But, do you think it’s possible Sam and your brother deserve the benefit of the doubt here?”
“No.”
“I’m glad you’re keeping an open mind.”
Sheri shook her head and began breaking pieces off an oatmeal cookie on the plate between them. Sam had made the cookies the day before, accidentally using salt instead of sugar. They tasted like hell, but she couldn’t stop eating them.
“Look, all I’m saying is that your brothers wanted to protect you,” Kelli said. “They may have been a little misguided and ass-hatty about it, but they had your best interests at heart. And Sam wa
s just stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
“Sam’s hard place is part of what caused this whole mess.”
“Stop that,” Kelli said, smacking the back of her hand. “If I remember the story correctly, you’re the one who pulled him into the shower with you. You’re the one who dropped to your knees because of a bunch of closet shelves. You’re the one who took off your robe in his room yesterday morning.”
Sheri shoved the cookie aside and scowled at her friend. “You know that part about me feeling foolish? This isn’t helping.”
“You weren’t foolish. You were attracted to a smart, strong, sexy, competent man who was good to your children. There are worse things in life, you know.”
Sheri scowled, hating the fact that a tiny part of her knew Kelli was right. Watching Sam pack his bags had been ten times more heart-wrenching than watching Jonathan do the same damn thing six months ago. Watching him tuck those little beanie peacocks into the crook of each boy’s arm had completely undone her.
“There’s definitely a pattern here,” Sheri said, dabbing at her eyes as she spotted the second beanie peacock under her chair. She kicked it across the room and looked back at Kelli. “I keep falling for the same macho assholes over and over.”
Kelli snorted. “Sam has about as much in common with your ex as a doughnut has in common with a bike tire. I can tell you right now which one belongs in your mouth and which should be ground into the pavement, and it’s not the doughnut.”
“You have a way with words,” Sheri admitted, feeling a surge of affection for her friend despite the fact that Kelli wasn’t exactly giving her the sympathetic butt-pats she’d hoped for. “I should probably wake up the boys.”
“How long have they been napping?”
“Awhile. Sam insisted on waking them up when he left to say good-bye. I’m not sure they understood, but they’ve been crying and fidgety all day, so I think they know something’s going on.”
“Any idea where Sam went?”
“No.”
“Do you think he just got on a plane and left?”
She shrugged. “That’s what I told him to do.”
“Does he usually follow your orders?”
“Depends on whether I’m naked. At least, it used to.”
Kelli squeezed her hand again and stood up. “I should probably get home. You sure you don’t want me to go grab some things and stay the night? We can make brownies and drink bourbon and insult penises.”
“Tempting, but no. I need to get used to being on my own.”
“Is your mom going to come over from Honolulu?”
Sheri nodded. “She offered to help me find a new nanny. And she promised to send Mac to bed without supper the next time she sees him.”
Kelli gave a firm nod. “Hopefully he’ll learn a lesson from all this.”
Sheri sighed. “I know I did.”
“Not to blow the nanny ’til you’ve frisked him for firearms?”
“Make that two lessons.”
Kelli smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “You’ll be okay, Sher. You’re a great mom, a great friend, and if the look on Sam’s face as he was leaving was any indication, a great lay.”
“Thanks, Kelli. And thanks for bringing lunch.”
Kelli stepped close and pulled her into a warm embrace that smelled like jasmine and puppy breath. “I’ll be at the clinic late tonight doing lab work on a bunch of endangered tortoises we seized from a private collection. Call if you need anything.”
Sheri nodded against her friend’s shoulder, trying not to get snot on her. She’d been holding back the tears all day, but as Kelli rocked her back and forth in a supportive hug, she felt them prick the corners of her eyes again.
“You’d better get going,” she said, pulling back and moving toward the kitchen with the teacups. “Thanks again, Kel.”
“My pleasure. Be strong, babe.”
Kelli stooped down and picked up the beanie peacock, setting it gently on the accent table beside the door. She turned one last time and blew Sheri a kiss before walking out into the bright sunlight.
Sheri took a steadying breath as the door closed behind her best friend. She scrubbed her hands over her face and wondered for the hundredth time where Sam had gone.
“Enough,” she ordered herself, and went to take a shower.
Her visions of a long, leisurely cry beneath the hot spray were cut short by the boys wailing over the baby monitor, which was just as well. The last thing she needed was the opportunity to picture every nook and cranny of the shower where Sam had explored every nook and cranny of her body.
With her hair still unwashed and her body wrapped in hastily donned jersey shorts and a button-up tank top she was pretty sure she’d buttoned crookedly, Sheri bounced Jackson in her arms while gently rocking Jeffrey’s little carrier with her bare foot.
“Shhhh,” she whispered, bouncing harder. “Mommy’s here.”
Jackson wailed harder, and Sheri wondered if he was thinking about Sam. He screwed up his tiny face and made a loud pfft noise, then crapped his pants.
“My thoughts exactly,” Sheri said, and bent to the task of changing him.
The day dragged on, with Sheri growing increasingly despondent and exhausted. The boys fluctuated wildly between exuberant joy and tired crankiness, yanking Sheri’s mood along with them. While Jackson gummed his beanie peacock, Jeffrey sneezed a mixture of rice cereal and carrot all over her hair.
She didn’t bother to clean it off.
By the time she had both boys latched into their car seats, it was already getting dark. She drove to the grocery store with her iPod playing the dirty, raw Southern rock of Kings of Leon, singing along to “The End” while she blinked back stupid tears.
“It won’t be long before you guys are going to understand lyrics, and then we’ll have to play ‘Wheels on the Bus’ on an endless loop,” she called into the backseat.
Jackson hiccupped and threw his teething ring on the floor. Jeffrey blew a snot bubble.
“God, I love you guys,” she sniffed, and parked the car in front of Safeway. She turned around to look at them, her heart ripping in half as she took in their chubby cheeks and bare baby toes. “Look, I know I’m not the best mom in the world, and you guys kinda got the short end of the stick here. But you know I’d do anything for you, right?”
Jackson hooted and smacked his hand on the arm of his car seat. Jeffrey stuck his fist in his mouth and kicked his little bare legs.
“And you know Sam is crazy about you, too,” she said. “It’s just that sometimes, people lie, and they aren’t who they say they are, and they have to go away.”
Bored with his fist, Jeffrey attempted to shove his foot in his mouth, while Jackson threw his pacifier on the floor.
“Good talk, guys,” Sheri said, and picked up the pacifier.
The grocery shopping took her three times longer than she’d hoped, and she was drained by the time she hauled four big sacks of groceries, packed tightly in the shopping cart around the boys’ carriers, back to the car.
“This was easier with another set of hands,” she muttered, and tried not to think of Sam’s hands.
She latched the boys back in their seats, loaded the groceries into the trunk, and drove slowly back home with the stereo at a slightly more soothing volume and her headlights slicing through the darkness.
By the time she pulled into the driveway, she was giving serious thought to leaving the food in the trunk and just going straight to bed.
“Not an option in Hawaii,” she muttered, unbuckling her seat belt as she stepped out of the car. “Not unless I want my perishables to perish and my frozen goods to unfreeze.”
She unbuckled Jeffrey first, then Jackson, maneuvering their car seats Transformer-style to become baby carriers. Jackson reached up and grabbed the front of her tank top, his tiny fist fastening on the top button with a viselike grip.
“Honey, no,” she murmured, but she was too late.
&n
bsp; She heard the rip of fabric and the skitter of buttons popping off one by one to roll down the concrete driveway. She glanced down, trying to figure out how much boob she was showing and whether the shirt could be salvaged.
Did it matter now? There was no one around to notice, to tease or ogle or offer to fix it while she fought tooth and nail to avoid taking help from anyone.
She sighed and hoisted the baby carriers, one on each arm. They were almost too big for her to lug like this, though Sam had made it look easy. How the hell was she going to manage this as a single mom? She’d done it before, in the six months between Jonathan’s leaving and Sam’s showing up. But things were different now. It was partly that the boys were getting bigger, but that wasn’t all.
There was a Sam-sized hole in her life, and she knew it wasn’t just the child-care help she missed.
She marched up to the front porch gripping a baby carrier in each hand, leaving the groceries for the second run. She set both carriers down on the bottom step and stuck her key in the lock. It turned easily—too easily—and Sheri muttered to herself as she shoved the door open with her hip.
“Gotta get better about making sure that’s locked,” she told the boys as she picked up their carriers and lugged them into the house.
She moved through the foyer in darkness, carting the boys to the center of the living room. She set them down there, then turned back to the entry table to drop her keys in the little dish. She spotted the beanie peacock there and fought the wistful pang that gripped her gut. She thought about throwing it in the trash, but couldn’t bring herself to do it.
She turned to the boys. “I’ll be right back, guys. Gotta grab the groceries. Don’t move.”
Sheri hurried out the door, hating to leave them alone for even an instant, but knowing she didn’t have a choice. She hefted the four bags out of the trunk and hurried back up the walkway, wondering whether she’d be smarter to tackle the groceries or the requisite diaper change for Jeffrey first.
