by Gina Kincade
“Seriously, Brad?” Mike grumbled, lifted his beer bottle to his lips, took a swig.
“You can do better and it’s time you did, is all I’m saying. Put her in the past and move on. Not every woman is Becky McDonald.”
Mike handed the bottle to Brad, reached for his dart.
“Listen,” his voice rose above the cacophony of MacRiley’s Pub’s patrons mingled with jazz music that bellowed from overhead speakers. “You don’t have to doctor me, Brad. I get it and I’m working on it.” Moving into position, he lifted his dart eye level, staring through the fins to the bulls-eye.
Silence filtered between the two just as the background bar music dimmed between songs. With his focus set, Mike pulled back, shot the dart forward. As it made contact, the music returned drowning out Brad’s curse.
Seated at their table feet from the dart board while another group of men took their turn, they sipped their drinks, not another word said between them. Not about Mike’s bullseye, or Brad’s disappointment in his lack of dating since the ‘Becky debacle’ close to a year earlier.
At least for two minutes, which seemed to be the limit of Brad’s patience on the subject tonight.
Being a man trained in the differing psychoses, he knew there was something else Brad Winter was struggling with. The question was whether he’d spill it or not. After all, Mike had done enough venting in the past year, Brad the ear.
“I’m not trying to doctor you,” he argued. “That’s your thing, not mine. I’m just saying it’s time to move on. Hit up the market. Hell, you’re a single man in 2019. The sea is vast, my friend.”
Mike lifted his beer, cocked a brow, and sipped his beer, his gaze never leaving Brad’s. “How are things at home between you and Kate?”
Brad’s eyes widened. “Don’t try changing the subject, Mike.” With a wave of his hand in the air, he dismissed the question. “It’s time to get back out into the world instead of drowning yourself in work to avoid living.”
Just the thought of what Becky put him through raised his blood pressure, heated his organs. She’d been vindictive in slandering his name around town, nearly destroying his practice. And all for a quickie divorce she hoped to reap rewards from. Which she had, in the form of his house in the suburbs and nearly every cent of their savings.
Just the thought of how close he’d come to losing everything rankled him, had his fingers tighten on the glass bottle. With a deep breath, one he’d learned to use whenever he felt anger and betrayal after ‘the Becky debacle’, he lifted his beer, tilted it, downing the last of the blond brew.
“I have started looking,” he lied. “I made a Tinder account.”
Brad’s brow lifted, amusement brightened his pretty-boy features. Not for the first time, Mike noted how similar to a Ken doll his friend was when he smiled. Even if it was more grin than smile.
“Swiping right or left?”
“I swipe right on the right ones.”
“And right to you would be?”
Mike’s brow narrowed, mouth opened to snap a retort, but Brad jumped in, hands up before him in defense.
“All’s I’m saying is maybe open your mind, widen your lady-dar.” He lifted his beer in cheers. “Because eventually Kate’s gonna demand us go on a double date.”
Kate Winter, Brad’s wife of fourteen years was one of the sweetest women Mike knew. The day she crossed Brad’s path, his entire life changed for the better. At twenty-seven, after a serious injury on the ice during a hockey game, he’d turned to alcohol and painkillers to get through his days. But life threw him a dingy in the form of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed rehab nurse who gave him balls for giving up on life, and himself.
“Kate can be quite intimidating.” Mike laughed at the memory of Brad’s confession that that was when he’d fallen head over heels for Kate Villeneuve.
“Oh man, you don’t know the half of it.” Brad laughed, his face lightening at the thought of his wife. “Trust me, you’ll know when you find the right one. Because the one meant for you, brightens your smile, makes you do all kinds of stupid things.”
With a quick glance at his gold wristwatch, his eyes widened. “Speaking of, I gotta jet. Tomorrow’s our wedding anniversary, so I planned a special evening tonight.”
“I see.” Mike smiled. “Still trying to one-up her?”
He shook his head vehemently. “You can never one-up this woman. No one and nothing can top her.”
With that, Brad threw several dollar bills on the table, yanked his coat off the back of the seat, and waved on his way out the door.
As the door swung closed behind him, Mike’s mind trailed to his friend’s words. He had to admit, it was time to move on, to find someone as special, fiery, and unforgettable as Kate Winter. Someone who made him excited to leave the office and go home. And he wouldn’t find it with his head buried in client files or listening to the click, click, click of the silver five-ball Newton’s Cradle center point on his oak desk.
Reaching inside his jacket pocket, he withdrew his cell, unlocked it, and searched for Tinder. As it installed, he stood from his chair, re-pocketed it, and wove his way through the quickly growing crowd of twenty-year-olds towards the door, a wide smile on his face.
Chapter Two
Mike Thorpe wasn’t one to just lounge around. Not because he didn’t enjoy relaxing after a long day at the office, but since Becky’s betrayal he’d preferred to keep himself moving, which kept him from thinking. Because thinking led to over thinking, then a slump that surely would turn into depression.
But tonight, Brad’s words in the bar really hit him. So, instead of his usual re-hashing of client files or researching upcoming appointments, he donned a pair of grey sweatpants and a worn Korn t-shirt. Stretched out on his cream microfiber couch, one bare foot plopped atop a matching ottoman, he reached for a beer, popped the top, sipping as he scrolled through Tinder.
Brunettes and redheads of every size littered the screen.
“At least now I won’t be lying,” he spoke aloud as he swiped through his matches.
The chirping of an incoming call jolted him.
Incoming Call, Brad Winter.
He slid the green icon up, placed the phone against his ear as he took another swig of his beer.
“Hey, what’s up?”
Muffled music played in the background as Brad’s voice, clearly on speaker came through.
“Not much now. I’d planned this amazing night to surprise Kate when she got home from the hospital, but I’ve been turned down.”
Mike laughed, swigged his beer. “So, in other words she has to work late?”
Brad grumbled. “Well, yes and no. Not at the hospital, she actually got off early today because one of her friends needed her tonight.”
“Which one this time?”
Mike sipped his beer, tuned Brad’s response out as he scrolled through Tinder.
“Anyways,” Brad added as the music in the background cut off, the ding ding of his car alarm setting. “I’m here, so open up. You better have pants on. And beer.”
Mike turned to the twelve-pack on the floor beside him, sipped the one missing from the pack. “Of course I have pants on, but not much beer.”
Minutes later, seated on the other end of Mike’s sofa, Brad tipped back his beer, took a long swig. When he lowered it, Mike noted the saddened look that darkened his usually bright blue eyes.
“I totally understand she needed to be with her friend tonight, but damn it, I had such amazing plans for her.”
“She is a nurse,” Mike replied, taking a swig of his own beer, Tinder forgotten. “It’s their vow, to help anyone in need.”
Brad sighed. “I know, and damn it, it’s one of the reasons I love that woman so much.”
“I bet the other is because she keeps your ass in line.”
Brad nodded. “Yeah, she’s just…”
Mike piped in. “Amazing. Yeah I’ve heard it before.”
Brad’s solemn look lightene
d with a shrug. “Forgive me for wanting to brag.”
“Touché,” Mike replied, lifting his beer in cheers.
“Anyways,” Brad replied in kind, taking a swig, then continued. “I know Kate feels a duty to her work, her friends, anyone in need. But I’m in need.”
Mike snorted. “Don’t tell me this is all about your ‘needs’,” he air quoted, laughed.
Brad’s face snapped into serious mode, one Ken-doll shaped eyebrow lifted, his streamlined jaw tightened.
“You know me better than that.” With another swig, his blue gaze never leaving Mike’s, he added. “I had a rough day at the office and I was looking forward to seeing her smile, forgetting about my client who I found out today has been lying to me this whole time.” He huffed, took another swig.
Mike nodded. He felt for Brad. Theirs was a long history, from awkward children to pimply teenagers, years sharing a dorm room at Sinclair College, to now, successes in their chosen fields. Bradley Winter, partner of Winter and Sumner Law Office, and Mike Thorpe, PsyD, one of the most sought after psych doctors. They knew each other's past and present pains, had been there through it all.
Mike softened, letting his own displeasure with the path his life had taken be pushed aside. After all, he wasn’t the only one with a shitty job that paid the bills, kept him fed, and a roof over his head.
“Well, I’m no Kate Winter, and this here’s no fine red wine paired with a juicy steak, but I do have at least another dozen of these bad boys.” He lifted his beer in cheers, and unlocked his cell, handing it to Brad. “And plenty of profiles to search through.”
Chapter Three
The following morning, Pam woke to the incessant buzzing of her cell from beneath her pillow where she’d stuffed it in her sleep. With lids squeezed shut to force back the bright rays of an early morning sunrise, she pulled the phone out, double tapped the screen to activate it.
Message from Katie-Star.
With one lid closed, the other only a slit, she clicked on the message.
Happy 2020.
The first day of your ‘New Year, New You’ starts now. Get up, get dressed. Casual attire will do. I made an appointment for this afternoon. 1:30 pm. 316 Willoughby Drive.
Don’t be late, I’ll know.
Much love. Kate.
Pam twisted her wrist, peered at her watch.
Eight twenty-eight. Five hours.
Her attention diverted to the world beyond her bedroom window. The bright sunshine lit her room in yellows and pale oranges, a hint of pink intermingled, warming her heart. Within the warmth was hope. Hope that, even though Pam turned her nose at Kate’s “New Year, New You” babble, that it would actually be just what she needed.
With a flip of her comforter, she pulled herself up and out of bed.
If she wanted to get better, she needed to help herself just as much as Kate was trying for her. And she’d do it, because she wanted to get better. She wanted to live again. Never would she forget the love of her life, but she could not allow herself to live like she had been these past two years. Not any longer. She owed it to his memory as much as she did herself.
Before long she was showered, dressed, coffee in hand, sitting on the living room couch, staring at the black television screen. As she lifted the mug to her lips, took a sip, she noted the tick, tick, tick of the clock. Mark’s clock.
“It’s like my Bible. I live and breathe by it.”
And he had.
She shivered at the memory of his final breath mirrored in the clock that for one day in time had stocked ticking.
***
Hours later, Pam shut her GPS off and killed the engine, turning to the prearranged destination with wide eyes.
“Kate Winters, what are you up to?”
Outside her frosted windows, the warmth the two-story home exuded tumbled out onto the snow-covered lawn. Several feet from where she parked, two sets of pink and purple balloons hung on a post at the end of the drive. Matching sets flanked the walking path, lined the front porch.
A knock on her window had her jump, turn to her visitor.
“Phase One of your transition begins with ‘the body’,” Kate hollered through the glass. “Come on, get out here. It’s time to spoil ourselves at a mani-pedi party.”
Pam exited the vehicle, closed and locked the door behind her, turning back to the decorated house, Kate at her side.
“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Whose house is this?”
Kate’s smile widened. “Remember a while back when Brad found his birth family?”
“Yeah,” Pam nodded, recalling the first time she ever saw Brad Winter shed a tear.
“This is his sister’s house. Her daughter’s birthday party is today. We got invites a while back but Brad couldn’t make it in time for the mani-pedi party. Which he was not terribly upset about,” she laughed.
Before Pam could comment on the fact they were going to a children’s party, Kate grabbed her wrist and dragged her through the balloon laden path, up the steps, and knocked at the door.
Within minutes the heavy wooden door opened, releasing the squeals and laughter of at least a dozen girls, the woman behind it stepped forward, her smile lifting her chubby cheeks.
“Kate, my love,” she waved them forward, stepped back to allow them in before wrapping plump arms around Kate’s thin frame, embracing her as if to let her go would be impossible.
“I’m so glad you came. Emily will be beyond thrilled.” Releasing Kate, she motioned towards Pam. “And who is this gorgeous woman?” Before Kate could reply, Pam too found herself inside a big bear hug.
“This is my best friend, Pam Mason. Pam, meet Mark’s sister, Candace.”
Crushed up against her chest, Pam replied. “It’s nice to meet you, Candace.”
“Mommy, mommy, it’s time,” the voice of a little girl broke up the hug session, pulled Candace’s attention on her.
Feigning shock, Candace lifted a hand to her lips, widened her eyes. “Is it? Oh no. Did I miss it all?”
“No Mommy, it’s just starting. Come on.” The girl reached out for a handful of Candace’s t-shirt, and yanked, pulling Candace behind her.
With a wave of one meaty hand, Kate and Pam followed into an open concept living room, decorated in pinks and purples. Balloons hung on the walls and the table at the center point of the room. On one end, a two tier cake with five unlit candles sat amongst an array of presents in multiple shapes and sizes, colors that mimicked a rainbow.
Across one wall, twelve chairs lined up side by side, each draped in a hot pink cover, a purple bow tied to the back. Situated at the foot of each, a blue and white, water-filled foot bath sat, bubbles pouring from the top.
“Ladies, ladies. I thank you for your patience while I opened Misty’s Mini Spa,” said a tall brunette, hair pulled back in a messy bun. She held a hand out towards the setup. To the anxious group of girls circling her, she lifted one finger. “Let’s all get into a single file line, then one by one, find a seat and we’ll begin our girls’ day.”
Even in their excitement, the children lined up as instructed, followed the brunette’s instructions and one by one plopped down into a chair.
The brunette turned her attention on Kate and Pam, motioned to two empty chairs. “I believe we have two reserved for you ladies. Come on, take a seat.”
Two hours later, the party wrapping up, Kate and Pam said their ‘goodbyes’ and retraced their steps on the decorated path. However this time, Pam felt different, as if a part of her protective shield had been moisturized away, leaving her step lighter, her smile wider.
“Thank you.” Pam inhaled deep, the crisp January air refreshed her as much as Brad’s niece’s birthday party. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, a smile plastered on her lips.
“The girls really seemed to enjoy the little self-care session. It was an amazing idea for a birthday party. And for Candace to have invited us, not just to be there but to participate, wa
s a kind gesture.”
Kate reached an arm around Pam’s shoulders as she stepped off the curb, headed towards Pam’s frozen metal beast.
“I don’t think it was only the girls who enjoyed it.” She winked.
“It was pretty revitalizing, in all honesty. I think I’d like to do it again sometime. I mean not crashing a children’s party, per say.”
Kate threw her head back with a laugh. “I totally agree. But we should have cake, though.”
“Definitely,” Pam replied as she stopped beside her driver’s side door.
“I told you we were going to get through this ‘New Year, New You’ together. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Kate’s smile faltered. “That is except for the next phase. That, I can’t do with you.”
Pam studied Kate, cocked a brow. “What’s the next phase?”
“After the body, comes the mind.”
Pam lifted a hand to halt Kate. “I already tended to that phase years ago.”
“Yes, years ago and with widow’s groups. You never actually sought a professional.”
“I don’t need a shrink, Kate.”
“Everyone needs someone to talk to at least once.”
“And I talk to you quite frequently.”
“Yes, but I’m no professional, I’m your best friend. It’s different when it’s a perfect stranger. And one who has years of experience listening to stories like yours, some worse.”
Pam opened her mouth to argue, but Kate stopped her with a hand on her shoulder, her blue eyes pleading. “Just humour me. I have a plan and this is part of it.” With a forced smile, she added. “And once we’re done with Phase Two, we can move onto the final step, and I promise it will be as fun, if not funner than the mani-pedi party.”
“‘Funner’ isn’t even a word,” Pam argued with a one sided grin.
Kate laughed, a genuine one. “I know. But it changed the subject.” Before Pam could interject with another argument on the topic, Kate added. “I made you an appointment with someone I know and trust, Doctor Mike Thorpe. You’re expected in an hour.” With those last words, Kate Winter turned from her, and walked up the street to her own car.
