Anything For Them

by Lola StVil

  He went on to tell me things that I already knew—Mia’s kind, warm, and witty. But he also told me things I didn’t know—she counsels at-risk youth, donates a portion of her check to the children’s hospital, and volunteers at the local food bank.

  But Argo made it clear that the reason he loves Mia isn’t just because of her giving nature. He told me that she accepted him and loved him regardless of his sexual orientation. And that when he came out to her, she never once judged him or made him feel unloved. He wanted me to know that she’s a noble person and that if I even entertain hurting her, he’ll end my life. I laughed and said I understood. I wasn’t upset that Argo had threatened me; I was glad Mia had someone so loyal in her corner.

  By the end of the phone conversation, I knew I wanted—no, I needed to get to know Mia. I’m sure there are reasons why it’s a bad idea, but I don’t care. It’s not every day I meet a woman like her, and I didn’t want to let my chance slip away. However, I may be alone in this. She’s a professional. She spent years getting her license and building her practice. Even if we only had a ten-minute session, she might not want to risk it. She may turn me down because of the way we met.

  Or maybe she’ll turn you down because she doesn’t feel anything for you, dickhead.

  I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing in her office waiting to hear if she will go out with me or not. It feels like forever, but in truth, I’m guessing it’s only been a few seconds.

  “Mia, say something.”

  She swallows. Hard.

  Our eyes meet, and there’s hesitation behind her beautiful stare. I want her. That much is clear. But I don’t want to push her.

  Maybe you read this all wrong, asshole. Perhaps she just wants to be your therapist and nothing more. And you standing there asking to hijack her day with her kid is a selfish and lousy move.

  “Jackson…” She can’t find the rest of her words—she doesn’t need to.

  “I get it.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I just—”

  “It’s okay. I understand. I shouldn’t have pushed the issue. It was a dick move. Sorry.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry,” she says, trying to spare my feelings.

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll tell Aaron maybe another time. And really, I’m sorry to put you in this position. Won’t happen again,” I promise. I exit her office, and she follows soon after.

  “Hey, Aaron, I’m sorry, buddy. I think I have to work, but you and your mom enjoy the aquarium, okay?”

  “You can’t come?” he asks.

  “Not this time. But you get to go with your mom, and I think if you’re good, maybe she’ll take you somewhere nice afterward.”

  “We always go for ice cream—if it’s not cold outside,” he replies as he looks over at his mom.

  “We will see how it goes, but yes—if you are good, I think we can have ice cream on the way home,” she says, never once taking her eyes off me. The connection between us is palpable. Nevertheless, she rejected my offer, and I’m forced to respect that.

  Argo, who has been studying us since we entered the waiting room, stands up and gives orders. “Jackson, watch the kid.” He then points to Mia. “You, outside, now.”

  “Actually, Aaron and I should be going,” Mia says. Argo places his hands on his hips and scowls at Mia. She sighs and follows him outside. She closes the door behind them, but they aren’t far enough to get the privacy that they wanted. I can make out what they are saying, although I’m not sure I understand all of it.

  “Let me see your phone,” Argo demands from the hallway. I turn to make sure Aaron isn’t within earshot. He’s on the other side of the room looking through a small stack of kids’ books on the shelf near the window.

  “What? C’mon, Argo, I don’t—”

  “Mia Louise Samuels. Your phone. Now,” he barks.

  I watch as she hands him her cell. He looks it over and throws his arms up in the air.

  “Two! You added two new cats to your hoard!”

  What cats?

  “It’s not a hoard; it’s called a litter. They just came in the other day,” she proclaims.

  Argo studies her cell closer. “Oh my god—are you dressing the cats now?!”

  “It’s just a sweater I found in the virtual gift shop. It gets nippy at night,” she counters.

  “Okay, girl, I need you to stop and listen to yourself,” Argo says.

  “I hear myself.”

  “Um, no you don’t! Because if you did, you’d be terrified, like I am,” Argo pushes.

  “It’s not that simple, okay? I can’t say yes to a client.”

  “Now you and I both know that’s not the main reason you are saying no to him.”

  “You don’t get it.”

  “Mimi girl, I do. I do get it. But here’s what you need to get. If you stop here, Tom won’t just be a chapter in the middle of your story; he’ll be the end of it. And my girl deserves a better ending. She deserves sparkles and orgasms.”

  “And you’re sure this is what is happening here? You barely know Jackson,” she reasons.

  “What I know is that virtual cats can’t make you smile as you did just now when you said his name.”

  I feel awkward listening in. I walk away from the door, but their voices still carry.

  “Girl, I did my homework. I did extensive research on that man. And even if you two don’t work out, he’ll still be someone you can call if you have a flat tire. Or give you a ride to the airport. And face it, we all need ‘airport’ guys in our lives,” he says, holding her face in his hands and looking into her eyes. She laughs.

  “He’s already met Aaron; that’s way too soon. We didn’t even go on a date. What if—”

  “All Aaron knows is that Mom has a friend who likes fish. That’s it. The man isn’t asking you to marry him. Go see some damn fish. Hell, go eat fish sticks together, if he wants to. Just do something in the real world.”

  She’s silent for a few moments and then says, “Okay. I will.”

  “Thank you,” Argo says. He then fans himself with his hand. “Good lord, you white folks are a lot of work…”

  They enter the office again, and she comes towards me. When she realizes that I overheard everything, she’s alarmed. She leans in and whispers a warning, “If you say the words ‘virtual cat’ or ‘cat sweaters,’ I’m calling this whole thing off.”

  It takes everything in me not to laugh out loud. All I can do is manage a small nod as I usher her and Aaron out into the hall. But as we head for the elevator, I whisper, “Whatever you say, cat woman.”

  ***

  When we get to the aquarium, Aaron becomes our personal guide. At first, Jackson thought he was just being cute and excitable, but as it turns out, for every question Jackson asked, Aaron had an accurate reply. Jackson is amazed by how much my kid knows until I explain to him this is Aaron’s favorite tour and that he’s obsessed with sharks.

  “He wants to be a marine biologist,” I explain.

  “He’s that certain, huh?”

  “Well, Aaron picks other professions also. Sometimes he wants to fight fires and other times he wants to be a wrestler. But he always comes back to working with marine life. Even if that’s not what he ends up doing, it makes him happy, so I try to come as often as I can. Although, if he had his way, we’d live here.”

  “I can see why—this place is amazing.”

  “You’ve never been here before?” I ask.

  “My nephews have come here often, but not with me. I usually take them camping or hiking.”

  “Mom, there he is!” Aaron says, pointing to the massive sand tiger shark. Aaron always does silly poses in front of the glass so that it looks like the shark is eating him whole. So, I expected that. What I didn’t plan on was Jackson adding to the mix. Soon the two of them are competing to see who could die the worst fake shark death. The two of them get along, so naturally, that scares me a little. But then I remember what Argo told me, and if Jackson is
as decent a guy as I think, even if this date doesn’t work out, at least Aaron met an enjoyable friend.

  By the time we are done with the tour, we’re all starving. Jackson asks Aaron how he feels about ice cream sundaes and frozen hot chocolate. I look over at Jackson and shake my head.

  “Do you know what you have done?” I warn him.

  “C’mon, we just saw a huge shark; we could have been eaten alive. That kind of danger should be rewarded with giant bowls of ice cream as big as our heads,” Jackson replies. He takes us to one of New York City’s best spots, Serendipity, a famous dessert restaurant that’s basically like living inside the mind of Willy Wonka.

  Everything inside this place is full of whimsy and fun, from the colorful large toy displays to their giant melting clocks and endless shelves of decadent treats. This place is magic for anyone who loves dessert.

  “I’ve been meaning to take Aaron here but haven’t gotten around to doing it,” I admit.

  “It’s definitely not someplace I’d take my kid to every day, but once in a while, I think it would be okay,” he replies as we are ushered to our table. Aaron’s eyes are twice their normal size as he looks at giant mugs of frozen hot chocolate being served to the table next to us.

  “You’re thinking about having kids?” I ask.

  “It’s not something I think about every day, but yeah, once in a while, I think about it. I’m not sure I’d be good at it,” he says.

  “You seem to be doing just fine,” I point out as I look over at Aaron. He’s lost in the colorful menu; he’s not paying any attention to us.

  “Yeah, but this is just an afternoon. I wouldn’t want to be the guy who lets my kid down, you know? My dad was always there for us, and I’d want to give that back. That’s not always a given with my job.”

  “Yeah, I get it. I have my battles with ‘mom guilt,’ and that’s in part due to my job.”

  “What are you feeling guilty about? You two have a great relationship.”

  “I’d love to spend more time with him, but sometimes that’s just not possible with my schedule. Sometimes he spends most of the day with a babysitter. And by the time I come home, he’s already asleep. It’s like there’s just not enough time in the world.”

  “Well, in case you have any doubts, you’re a terrific mom. And Aaron knows that.”

  “Yeah right. Wait until I tell him he can’t have the supernova ice cream sundae he’s been eyeing.”

  I take a look at the menu, and they have actual entrees too. They have everything from foot-long hot dogs to mouth-watering burgers stacked high with bacon. Typically, I would make Aaron wait for dessert, but the fact is, he’s not the only one taken by the rich selection of sweet treats. And right now, both Jackson and I are tapping into our inner kid; to hell with waiting, we want dessert now!

  Aaron turns and tells us that’s what he wants—the biggest sundae they have. After going back and forth, we all settle on a slightly smaller dessert. It’s what they are known for—frozen hot chocolate. It’s an icy treat that is as big as my head. They add an entire Hershey’s chocolate bar on top. And melt a giant marshmallow in the center. It’s basically everything a kid or a grown-up with a sweet tooth could ever ask for. We drink it too fast and take turns getting brain freeze. Jackson and I are worse than most of the kids. We even race to see who can finish first. All in all, I can’t remember that last time I had this much fun.

  After we eat we take Aaron to the park to work off some of the energy he has bouncing around inside him. He makes friends quickly and soon leaves us sitting on a bench nearby while he plays with his new pals. Jackson and I talk, and I swear I don’t know where the time went. Soon it’s getting dark. I call Aaron and tell him it’s time to go home. He doesn’t complain, and I think he’s finally worn himself out. We get on the train, and soon we are back in my neighborhood.

  Aaron asks Jackson to come up to our apartment and play video games. It may sound strange, but I’m glad when Jackson declines. I’m pleased because of the reasons he gives Aaron. He says, “It’s late, and your mom has to work in the morning, buddy. Let’s give her some quiet time.”

  What I liked was Jackson’s voice. It was firm yet still respectful. He wasn’t scolding Aaron, yet his tone was definite and steady. Jackson was the one thing I could never get Tom to be—a grown-up.

  Why does that matter, Mia? Why are you thinking these thoughts as if he’s going to be around for more than just this one day? This guy has a flock of women somewhere. Guys like that always do. Right?

  After Aaron and Jackson say their goodbyes, I send him up to our apartment to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. I promise him that I’ll be up there soon to check on him. Aaron cheerfully waves a final goodbye to Jackson and runs up the steps.

  Now, Jackson and I are alone in front of my building, and the butterflies have once again taken flight. Being this close to him, without having to be on “mom patrol,” feels thrilling. When my kid is around, he’s my first and last thought.

  But now that Aaron is upstairs, safe and sound, not to mention full and happy, I can let myself relax. I start to think of myself not just as Aaron’s mom but also as a woman. A woman who is standing only a foot apart from the hottest man she’s ever encountered.

  “Thank you for today, Jackson. I had a great time.”

  “Me too. You are raising one hell of a tour guide,” he jokes.

  “That I am,” I reply as our eyes lock. The smile fades from our lips. What was once a light and fun moment is quickly changing. The air is now thick with unspoken words. He steps closer to me; now only a few inches of air stand between us.

  His fingers reach out and lightly make contact with mine. That’s enough to make me heady with longing. My heart is pounding inside my ears; my pulse is racing at a speed that might actually require medical attention. I’m so filled with anticipation, a moan escapes my lips before he touches me.

  Dear God, I want him.

  But when he leans in, he doesn’t go for my lips. Instead, he whispers in my ear.

  “Good-night, Mia.”

  Wait, what? No kiss? No kiss? Really?

  He reads the displeasure and confusion in my expression. He smiles slightly. “I can’t kiss you the way I want to right now.” He signals towards the window above us where my son has his face pressed up against the glass.

  “Oh…right,” I reply. I clear my throat, but it does nothing to hide the longing in my voice.

  He looks into my eyes and says, “Don’t worry, baby. We got nothing but time…” He leans in and places a gentle kiss on my cheek. The feel of his lips on my skin causes a visceral sensation; my entire body tingles.

  Damn, if that’s what happens with a kiss on the cheek, what happens when our lips touch?

  It’s two in the afternoon, and I’m in front of my house, where two cop cars have gathered. I’m watching the woman in the back of one of the patrol cars. Her name is Megan Green. She’s eight months pregnant and seriously pissed off at me. She keeps cursing and shouting at the patrol officers and demanding to be let go. My brother Wyatt, a homicide detective, is trying to get her to calm down. I’m not sure he can do it, but if any guy could, it would be Wyatt. He’s nice to a fault and has a way with people. I can’t say the same about myself.

  After a few moments, Wyatt actually gets the woman to calm down and be still. He offers her water, and since she’s not in cuffs, she takes it to her lips and drinks. He even manages to make her give him a small smile. Wyatt has one of the officers take Megan home, and then he comes over and sits on the step beside me.

  “I thought you said you had the Megan issue handled,” Wyatt says.

  “I thought I did. Turns out when you kill a woman’s fiancé, the father of her child, she doesn’t just forgive and forget,” I counter.

  “You didn’t kill Agent Green. You know that.”

  “I might as well have. And you know what, it doesn’t matter what the logistics were, he was my partner, and he didn’t
come home. That’s on me,” I reply bitterly.

  “You gotta stop doing that. You can’t take everything on, man. You do that, and you won’t last long.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “If your neighbor hadn’t called the police, what would have happened? Megan busted all the windows out of your car and then tried to get into the house.”

  “I know what she did. She’s upset. I don’t care about my stupid car. I’m more worried about her going into labor prematurely. That’s why I came out to talk to her. But apparently, I’m not as good at it as you are. What did you say to her?”

  “I told her this stress could affect her baby and that I understand what it’s like to hate you. As your brother, I barely like you. In fact, I kind of hate you myself,” he jokes.

  “So you basically told her I was an asshole and that she had every right to hate me and try to make my life hell?”

  “Yeah, that about covers it. I told her that if she waited until she gave birth, then I’d help her kick your ass.”

  “Ah, yes. Family. Gotta love it,” I reply with a smile.

  Wyatt gets serious. He does that—often. “Jackson, she can’t keep coming to your home, threatening you. You know that as well as I do.”

  “What do you suggest I do? Press charges on a pregnant woman who is grieving the man she loved? C’mon!”

  “No, but maybe if you actually allowed us to take her away and process her, it would scare her into focusing on other things—like her child.”

  “I won’t have her arrested, and frankly neither would you if you were in my situation. In fact, none of us would do that,” I reply. “Wait, Logan. Logan would put her ass in jail.” I laugh. Wyatt joins me. He agrees. Logan, our older brother who works SWAT, would most likely do just that.

  “Seriously, you have to figure out what you plan to do about Megan because I don’t think she’s going away,” Wyatt replies.