by Hadley Quinn
“Seen?” she asked again.
I looked around the room and saw the toy box in the corner. After pulling out a set of pajamas for Sadie, I made my way over to hunt for a musical instrument of some sort. I found everything from books to dolls and balls, but nothing that played music.
“What are you looking for?” a voice asked. I’d say it was a man’s voice, but David didn’t exactly have the depth to his voice for me to be sure.
“Uhh, some kind of musical instrument,” I answered.
He looked confused but stepped into the room. “Sadie Bug, why are you naked?” he asked in a high voice that could not possibly be within a man’s normal vocal range. “You need some clothes on, Bugsy.”
Thanks Captain Obvious. I tossed him the set I had in my hands. “Good luck.”
He gave me a look that was clearly laced with pride. I didn’t care if he was better at getting their clothes on than I was, if he could do it without anyone’s blood curdling screams, more power to him.
But once I found a little twelve-inch battery operated piano in the closet and Mia was situated on my lap ready to play it, Sadie wasn’t having it. She wanted to do what we were doing and threw a fit when David tried to get a Pull-Up on her. I let him struggle with her for a few minutes (he’d gotten the diaper on, at least) but when Sadie escaped the pajamas he was trying to put over her head and ended up trying to play the piano with me, I decided to step in.
“Nope, sweetheart. No piano for naked girls. You have to have your jammies on. Go get dressed and we’ll sing songs. Hurry!”
You know when you win an Olympic Gold medal, or a Grammy award for album of the year? No? Well neither do I, but I imagine that feeling was pretty similar to how I felt after Sadie went straight to David to get dressed right away. Is that how parents feel when they’ve outsmarted their two-year-old?
God, I needed to get out more if I was that proud of myself…
David, on the other hand, looked as if I’d insulted his manhood. That hadn’t been my intention, but if he was going to be so competitive about who could get the girls dressed better, he deserved being butt hurt.
I sat on the floor for the next five minutes, playing and singing random songs. It was obvious I didn’t know a lot of preschool music; I barely even knew the words to the two songs I thought I knew. And when David corrected me on one of them (I seriously don’t know why he was even in the room still) I decided to switch it up a bit with some Led Zeppelin.
“Hardly a song for toddlers,” David huffed after a few seconds.
Shrugging, I continued the song. It didn’t matter. Sadie and Mia were content, both of them on my lap, and they were each trying to sing along in their own way. Everyone was happy except David, apparently. I even tried to get him to sing along too, but he was set on snubbing me however he could. I guess maybe I should get the back-story from Clare about this guy. Was he pissy for being put in the friend zone or something?
“Well what’s going on in here?” Clare asked when she popped her head into the room. “I’m missing a concert? That’s not fair.”
“No worries, I’ll let you backstage instead.” I raised my eyebrows at her.
She gave me a funny smile, complete with blushing cheeks. Or maybe she’d already had the flushed cheeks from trying to get ready.
“Let’s go,” she whispered to me, giving me a look that said it was probably a good time to leave.
I maneuvered the girls so they were sitting on the floor, each with access to the little piano. Their backs were to the door, and even though they’d noticed their mom when she spoke, neither of them took a break from the music. David sat on the floor in front of them to keep their attention, and Clare and I slipped out of the room.
“I really hate doing it this way but honestly, they’ll spend thirty minutes crying about me leaving and clinging to my legs. It’s tough for me to be a hard ass and just leave. I mean I’m getting better when I have to go somewhere, but I rarely leave them.”
“You don’t have to explain,” I answered, holding the front door open for her. We walked down the sidewalk for my truck still parked at home.
“My God, you had them absolutely mesmerized,” she exhaled, shaking her head. “I was tempted to stay home just to watch you with them, but since David was here and everything… Yeah, anyway. I just…I don’t even know what to say.”
“Don’t know what to say about what?” I asked, holding the passenger’s door open for her to climb into my truck. She dropped into the seat but didn’t answer right away. I looked her over for a good five seconds and said, “You look beautiful, by the way.”
And she did. Skinny jeans with slip-on shoes, and a sleeveless shirt that complimented her arms well. Her hair was down in soft waves, and if she even had any makeup on, I couldn’t tell. She was naturally beautiful and didn’t need it.
“Thank you,” she smiled at me. “I didn’t have much time to do anything with myself with those two running around like wild jungle monkeys.”
I shut her door with a laugh and made my way around the front of the truck. Climbing in I said, “But hey, they’re cute jungle monkeys so you have to at least be happy about that.”
“Yes, that makes it bearable,” she joked. “Okay, hurry up and get out of here so I’m not tempted to run back and check on them.”
For some reason I could relate to that and they weren’t even my kids.
11
Since we’d gotten a late start from Clare’s, we definitely didn’t have time to eat at the restaurant I’d planned on taking her to if we were going to make a nine o’clock movie. When I suggested one of my favorite little food stops along the way, she was all for it.
“I love burritos,” she said. “And I’m starving.”
“Well this place is the best. The owners are a cute little elderly pair and only their family members work there.”
I pulled up to the curb and parked. This place was so small there wasn’t even an actual parking lot. After I opened Clare’s door and helped her out, we entered the little red building that contained just a counter, small kitchen behind it, and only five little tables to choose from. As usual, two of them were occupied by the younger generation of Sanchez’s, busy doing homework.
“Matthew!” a cheery voice greeted me first. Mama Sanchez was in her sixties, round, plump, and always with a smile on her face. “Mi invitado favorito!” She came out from the kitchen and gave me a big hug. Eyeing Clare, she added, “Ooh, quien es la señora bonita?”
I placed my hand against Clare’s lower back and answered, “This is Clare. Clare, Maria Sanchez. But I like to call her Mama,” I winked at her.
Maria hollered an order to the kitchen where her nephew was waiting to receive it, but then she took Clare by the hand and led her to a table. They sat down together, and since there were just two chairs, the odd man out wandered to another table to greet two teenage boys.
“Hey, Matt,” Emanuel smiled at me. “How’s it going, man?” He gave me a fist bump, and so did Gabriel.
“Not too bad. What are you guys working on?”
“Math,” fifteen-year-old Gabriel answered, rolling his eyes.
“I’m not actually sure,” Emanuel replied sarcastically, throwing down his pencil.
I glanced at the sheet of paper in front of him. It was for a human anatomy class. This kid was very bright for a sixteen-year-old and I seriously doubted he was having trouble. He just hated homework.
“No pain no gain, man,” I told him. “Work so you can be the boss, not be bossed.”
He smiled at my tiresome advice, but he knew I was right. The kid didn’t like to be told what to do, so it was a given that he needed to do something self-governing in his future.
“Okay, I need to rescue my date from your grandma,” I whispered to them both. “Clare will come out of here ready to have more babies and I’m not quite there yet.”
Both boys snickered but agreed with me. Mama Sanchez never held back her feelings about fa
mily and there being no greater gift than bearing children and raising them to be of importance in the world.
When Maria brought out fried ice cream for dessert after a feast of chips and salsa and carne asada burritos, Clare told me she was too full to eat it.
“Come on, just one bite,” I encouraged, holding the spoon out. “Mama Sanchez will cry if you don’t at least try it.”
“Mama Sanchez also thinks I’m too skinny and she says I need to fatten up. I seriously think she’s a bit loco.”
Smiling, I nodded my head. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”
“She didn’t believe that I had twins. She asked if I got really sick recently. What does that mean?”
“It means there’s no other reason why you’d be so skinny,” I answered.
“Skinny? Um, this girl ain’t skinny. I’ve had two kids; bikini days are over.”
I eyed her for a few seconds, trying to imagine why she’d say that. She had a great body, two kids or otherwise. I was extremely attracted to her physically.
“Well that’s too bad because I’d give my left nut to see you in a bikini.”
She stared at me wide-eyed and then laughed. “Your left nut, huh? Seriously, save that for Sports Illustrated swimsuit models, or the Victoria Secret angels.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Um, they are bony with push up bras or fake boobs. Not my thing. I’m sure they’re beautiful people on the inside,” I added sarcastically, “but not my cup of tea on the outside.”
“Oh, so you like the mom bods, huh?” she chuckled.
“Mom bods? Is that what you consider yourself?”
She shrugged. “I guess. I mean there’s not much I can do about my stretch marks and, uh, supple skin.”
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “I like the supple skin,” I admitted honestly. “You’ve got the softest skin I’ve ever felt and it’s…”
She was watching me, waiting for an answer. I didn’t know if what I was going to say would offend her or not.
“It’s what?” she finally asked with a cautious smile.
“It’s perfect,” I shrugged. “It feels amazing and I love it.”
I couldn’t exactly read the expression on her face, but she seemed to be thinking it over. I gathered our plates and dumped the trash, and after Maria gave us both a long, drawn out goodbye, we climbed back into my truck to head for the theatre.
While we stood in a short line for tickets, I finally remembered her reaction from earlier and decided to ask about it.
“So earlier when you were washing your car…” I began.
It was our turn to pay for tickets, so after finishing the transaction, I continued as we headed inside.
“When I said I was going to go home and shower?”
“What about it?”
As we walked toward theatre 7 (she declined popcorn and soda, claiming she was way too full) I said, “You gave me a funny look when I said it. I was just wondering what it meant. Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” she shook her head. “It was just…”
“Just what?”
“Just a rude ‘mom-thought’.”
I was confused but smiled. “What does that mean?”
She smiled too but shook her head again as we found a pair of seats toward the top. “Just one of those, ‘oh, how nice for you to only have yourself to take care of’ thoughts.” She shrugged. “That went through my head when the next hour of chaos flashed behind my eyes in that two second pause; bath time for them, a shower for me, dressing them, and then dressing myself, doing my hair, cleaning up something they’ve gotten into, putting clothes back on that they’ve taken off again… Yeah, that’s all that I was thinking.”
I didn’t know if I should laugh, feel guilty, or just feel like an insensitive ass. Yep, I showered, threw some clothes on, and then watched television for twenty minutes. Quite possibly the twins had already stripped their clothes off twice before Clare could even take her own shower.
“Don’t hate me for not realizing all of that,” I finally said lightly.
“I don’t,” she chuckled. “I surely don’t. You just asked what my reaction was about, and because I’m not quite sure what my reaction looked like to you, I just remember all of that going through my head. No I did not forget about the date with you—I’ve been looking forward to it—but I was just mentally trying to figure out if I could be ready in an hour or if I needed to ask for more time.”
I was a bit humbled, and I suppose next time I could come over a bit early and help instead of sit my ass down to chill watching baseball talk. I was capable of learning these things, but I felt in the future, Clare could also be a bit more upfront about stuff like that. I wasn’t a mind reader, and even though I tried to be more thoughtful than the average Joe, I was sure being a single mom was a whole different ballpark for me to explore.
I put my arm around her and decided since we’d kind of been on a roll talking about significant things, I would go ahead and go for the big one.
“Tell me about the girls’ father,” I said casually.
She had laid her head against me slightly, but sat back up again. After a brief pause, she turned a bit and exhaled. “Well, his name was Adam…he worked for the Coast Guard Air Station in San Francisco. He died during a rescue operation; a storm hit suddenly and sent their chopper down while they were trying to search for the crew of a commercial fishing boat that had capsized.” She paused again. “I’d been with my mom that day… I’d talked to Adam that morning and said I’d be pretty busy for the day. I was eight months pregnant with the girls and had just wanted to stay home, but my mom was in town and insisted we go do mom/daughter things—we aren’t that close. Anyway… It wasn’t until later that night that I listened to my voicemails and realized Adam had been in an accident. I didn’t even know he was dead at that point—when I called the Station to check in on him, find out where he was at and where I could see him. It was all just…unreal. Hearing he didn’t make it, that he’d hit his head so hard he died of a massive brain aneurism… I just couldn’t process it.”
I was generally a good listener but would give the necessary condolences or advice if needed. This time I wasn’t sure which direction to go. I didn’t know Clare well enough to recognize what she needed from me. She was so calm and matter-of-fact right now, but I’m sure it wasn’t an easy memory to have to recall. Adam never got to see his daughters born, so had Clare gone through it alone?
“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that,” I finally said. “Was someone there for you when your kids were born?”
Her smile was sad. “No, I just had a doctor and two nurses. I went into labor the day after Adam’s funeral. The girls were early but…no, I chose to shut everyone out that tried to be there for me. It was what I needed at the time.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Everyone needed something different sometimes. I had gone through similar thoughts when Aubrey left me. I didn’t want anyone around.
“And now?” I asked. “How do you feel about things right now? Adam has been gone for two years, you’re raising twin girls on your own… Are you still shutting family out?”
She looked at me with somewhat of a cold stare. I couldn’t read into those eyes, but maybe I’d rubbed her the wrong way.
“Sometimes you do what’s best for you at the time, even if it doesn’t make sense to everyone else,” she answered. “My family—and Adam’s family—wasn’t that supportive of me. I chose to protect myself the best I could so I didn’t have to live through some of their negativity. I didn’t feel like I should have to be treated like shit; I didn’t want my kids to be around it.”
“Why would they treat you like shit?”
She sighed, and now that there were a few more people in the theatre near us, she lowered her voice. “Adam’s family never really liked me much and I guess that affected our marriage more than it should have. But they were right. I wasn’t a very good wife, at least in the beginn
ing.”
I studied her for a moment, even though she looked away. The theatre had gathered a few more movie patrons and the previews had already begun, but I don’t think I cared about anything else going on. I knew the signs of self-doubt and regret—I looked at them in the mirror quite often—but if I were to tell Clare not to be so hard on herself, I’d feel like a total hypocrite.
Well, it was the truth, even though I couldn’t follow my own advice all the time. My arm was still around her so I squeezed her closer to me. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I told her quietly. “We all screw up or feel like we don’t measure up. You’re okay.”
She laid her head against me again but no more words were spoken. The movie we came to watch was awesome, but it was more enjoyable because Clare was with me. The last time I’d been to a movie theatre was the week before Aubrey left for her birthday weekend to Florida. I really didn’t want to think about that week, or the last time I’d been here, but stupid shit like that always popped into my head. I guess it’s hard to escape your past entirely, but I was looking forward to the day it didn’t bother me anymore.
I’d decided to finally try, so I hoped I wasn’t fooling myself.
12
“So there was nothing after the movie?” Trent asked with disbelief. “Not even some hand or mouth action in the truck?”
My brother was such an asshole. Yeah, there’d been some in-the-pants action before I took Clare home, I just hadn’t gotten around to telling him that part yet.
If I was even going to.
“All I said was that I took her home, that weirdo David was practically pacing the floor waiting for her, and she was immediately bombarded with two kids that still hadn’t gone to sleep.”
“Fucker probably did it on purpose,” Trent scoffed.
Ha, I’d kind of thought the same thing but hadn’t wanted my suspicious thoughts to go there just yet. The guy definitely seemed to always want to come to Clare’s rescue and he was getting on my damn nerves.
