Moore than a Feeling (Moore Than a Feeling #1; Needing Moore #4)

by Julie A. Richman

  “I heard Daddy. Is it time to go to the parade?” Only a trace of her beautiful English accent was left, matching just the mere trace of memories from her years in an orphanage in Zambia, before Mia and Schooner adopted her.

  “No. We still have a few hours.”

  “I was excited, and I was afraid I’d miss it.” Walking up to the fully set holiday table, “This looks so beautiful. Which seat is mine?” she asked.

  Mia pointed to a seat at the far end of the table. “You’re right over there. You’re going to sit between Nana and Uncle Seth.”

  Portia walked over to her chair and asked, “This one?”

  “That’s the one.” Mia smiled, thinking the kids will make the energy better today. “Daddy went running. How about you crawl back into bed with me and we’ll sleep until he gets us up.” As the kids were getting older, Mia missed the snuggle time that seemed to be fading away too quickly for her heart.

  Portia was on her way to the master bedroom before Mia even finished the sentence. Finding her already under the covers, Mia snuggled in next to her. At least the day would have a perfect start.

  “When will everyone be here?”

  “After we get home from the parade,” Mia explained, knowing Po wanted to know when she was going to see her older brother and sister. “You’ll see Holly and Zac and Lily.”

  Just hearing those names, her face lit up in a beautiful smile, but her eyes were already closed, and Mia did the same.

  “I can’t believe you let them eat candy apples.” Mia was shaking her head at Schooner as they entered the elevator. “Don’t touch anything.” She pointed at Nathaniel, who grinned widely, showing off his missing front teeth. “How did you eat that thing without chompers, my little toothless wonder?”

  “I used my sharp ones.” Pointing at his incisors, his red-stained lips stretched into a wide smile.

  “You look like The Joker.” Mia shook her head. “Go straight to the bathroom, wash your face and hands first, and then brush your teeth good. And don’t touch anything.” She screamed after him as he tore through the loft, a glucose-charged demon, capable of leaving mass destruction in his wake. Shaking her head, she just looked at her husband, “Think he’s on a little bit of a sugar high?”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Schooner smiled at his wife, “It’s a holiday.” He was a lot more relaxed with his two younger kids than he had been with raising his older two. Breathing in deeply, he commented, “It smells great in here,” and headed straight for the kitchen, pulling open the oven door and momentarily closing his eyes as the fragrant aroma of fresh herbs escaped, wafting around him. “The bird looks great.”

  “Close the oven door,” Mia ordered. “You came, you sniffed, you gawked. Now make yourself useful.”

  “When did you turn into such a shrew?” He smiled at his wife, enjoying this moment, before the day got out of their control.

  Mia laughed and shook her head. “Hey, I think I’m holding up pretty well considering I’m making Thanksgiving for your ex and mine.” Handing Schooner a bag of fresh green beans, “Cut off the ends and wash.” She gave him his marching orders and a colander, then walked out of the kitchen.

  “Hey, where are you going?” he shouted after her. Grumbling, “Leaving me with all the work.”

  “I’m just checking on the sticky bandits and want to make sure they get cleaned up and dressed. And then I’m going to get dressed, too, before our guests start walking in.”

  Schooner figured Mia did not want her parents to arrive and have Lois ask her, “Is that what you’re wearing?” And with Tom and CJ there, he knew she was not going to be as casual as she would like to be when running around and entertaining, the way she usually was when it was just family and close friends.

  The elevator door opened. “Hello. It smells divine in here.” Seth called out and then stood for a moment, his eyes closed, enjoying the savory aroma. “I love Thanksgiving,” he declared, stepping into the loft.

  “We are definitely in the right place.” Henry held up the bottle of wine in his hand, acknowledging Schooner in the open kitchen.

  “Don’t tease me, man. Open that thing,” Schooner begged.

  As Henry headed toward the kitchen, Seth went to survey the dining table.

  “This looks beautiful. BBC did a great job. Schooner, you have domesticated her.” Walking around the table, he noted the seating cards. “I love it, she has left nothing to chance, Tom is stuck with me and Lois. He has no idea how much he should be dreading today.”

  “Oh, that’s right, you know him,” commented Schooner. “Yeah, well, I’m dreading him being here.”

  “Oh yes, I was around for dark, gorgeous, brooding poet. I can’t wait to see what he looks like now. And what I really can’t wait for is to meet your ex.” Seth leaned up against the marble kitchen counter.

  “My ex, huh?” Schooner shook his head, then smiled at Henry, “I don’t want to run through this one, I want to run away from it.”

  Henry’s smile grew wide. Only he and Schooner would ever understand the comment his oldest friend just made. “I’ve got a ringside seat.”

  “Lucky man.” Looking from Henry to Seth, he pointed across the kitchen to where Seth stood. “The corkscrew is in that drawer. And I think we’re going to need more than wine glasses for this. Will you grab a few water glasses?”

  Setting glasses on the counter for Schooner and Henry, Seth asked, “Is BBC in the bedroom?”

  Schooner nodded and clinked his glass to Henry’s.

  “Run through it,” Henry toasted.

  “Mia,” Seth called out, heading in the direction of the bedrooms.

  “I’m in the master bathroom with Po. Come on in,” she called out.

  Mia stood behind her daughter, a section of Portia’s thick, curly hair in her hand. “Why don’t you want to let me flat iron it today?”

  “Because I like it curly and fluffy.”

  “Last week you liked it straight.”

  “I did. But I don’t want it that way today.”

  “Okay, fine. Less work for me. Go check on your brother and make sure he dresses in the clothes I put out for him.”

  Portia was out the door, briefly stopping to acknowledge Uncle Seth and plant a juicy kiss on his lips with a giggle.

  Mia looked at Seth, “I wish they were babies again. They are growing up too fast. It’s all going too fast.” Mia was getting weepy.

  “Stop that. You’re just emotional because you’re stressing out about today’s guests.”

  “No, shit. You think?” she laughed at her best friend and business partner. “This whole thing is like a bad soap opera that needs to be cancelled.”

  “Well, your husband has just cracked open the bottle of wine we brought. He’s clearly begun his escape route.”

  “That’s not fair. He’s not allowed to do that without me.” Mia looked in the mirror. “Does my hair look okay?”

  “You look good. You know I’d tell you if you didn’t. What do you need me to do in the kitchen?”

  “Get the sweet potatoes out of the oven and start the sweet potato soufflé. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Mia stood staring at her reflection after Seth left. Having either Tom or CJ there would have been a stress-provoking situation, but having both, was pressing all her buttons, making long-extinguished, or so she thought, insecurities, float right to the surface. This was not going to be a kumbaya Thanksgiving and her stomach was already churning.

  Mia arrived back in the kitchen, as the elevator opened into the great room and Zac and Lily stepped out, fresh from their ride up from Baltimore.

  “Finally.” Lily rolled her eyes. “The Jersey Turnpike was a hellacious parking lot. It took us over five hours to get here.”

  “Take off your coats and get comfortable.” Mia hugged her stepson and his fiancée.

  “It smells yummy in here. I love Thanksgiving.” Lily smiled at her future stepmother-in-law.

  “Heckle. Jeckle,” Zac yelled out
in the direction of the bedrooms and with screams of excitement, Nathaniel and Portia came out running to their older brother whom they hadn’t seen since September. “I’ve missed you devils.” He hugged them close.

  “You didn’t bring your mother?” Schooner hugged Zac and Lily.

  “No, she said she’d take a cab from her hotel and would meet us here.”

  Schooner laughed. “Some grand entrance, I’m sure.”

  “C’mon, Dad. Would you expect anything less?”

  “I can’t wait to meet her,” Seth piped in from the kitchen.

  “Traitor,” Mia muttered loud enough for only Seth to hear.

  “Afraid I’ll like her better than you?” he sneered back, as he stirred the ingredients for the soufflé’s crunchy topping.

  “Be nice,” Henry told his partner.

  “I’m always nice. I’m just so excited to meet this person I’ve heard about for years.” He spread the topping over the soufflé. “Will she out-bitch me?”

  “It’ll be close. You might have met your match,” kidded Henry. “I’m sure she’s as anxious about today as you are, Mia. At least you have the home-turf advantage.”

  “It’s going to be a shit storm,” Mia muttered, getting Seth the lid to the casserole dish. “Please control my mother, Seth. You know how she’s always felt about Tom.”

  With a snicker, he looked at her like she was crazy and put the sweet potato soufflé in the oven. “As if anyone could control what comes out of Lois Silver’s mouth.”

  “That’s my fear.” She looked through a cabinet, not finding what she needed. “Hey, Hon,” she yelled out, “please bring me a bottle of cognac.”

  Schooner appeared with a bottle of Hennessy. “Starting the hard stuff a little early, Baby Girl?”

  “I wish. Still too much to do.” Holding up a measuring cup, she poured in a small amount of the amber liquid before putting the open bottle under her nose and smiling as she breathed in deeply. “I’ll meet you for one of these tonight, before we go to bed.” Smiling at Schooner, she put the stopper back in and handed him the bottle.

  “You’ve got a date.” He bent down as Mia got on her toes for a quick kiss, then turned around with a smile as he left to return the bottle to his office.

  “I’m excited for today and a little afraid. Does Tom know I’ll be here?” Seth asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Mia and Seth stood there very still, smiling at one another. “Do you believe this shit is happening?”

  “You couldn’t make this up. And what’s it been? Like twenty years?”

  “Something like that,” Mia confirmed, as she slid the tray of stuffing into the oven.

  “How do I look? Do I look okay?” Seth squared his shoulders.

  “Princess, do not tell me you want to look good for Tom?” Mia was amazed.

  “No, I don’t want to look good for him. I want him to see how good I look.” Seth wiggled his shoulders.

  “You are such a tart.”

  “Bitch.” His smile began to curl into a snarl, but was cut short by the unpleasant buzzing of the intercom.

  The guests were arriving. Mia pressed the button, activating the video.

  CJ.

  In what alternate universe would CJ MacAllister be coming to her home in New York for Thanksgiving. CJ. Her nemesis. The woman who had cost her and Schooner twenty-four years of their lives with her lies. Her stinking lies.

  Mia pressed the button to open the elevator and bring CJ to their loft.

  “Zac, your Mom’s on her way up,” Mia called out to him.

  Rising from the couch, he walked across the room to the elevator, just as the doors parted. Emerging with the elegance of a pageant girl, she cut a striking figure, head-to-toe in winter white, in what appeared to be vintage Chanel. Class, elegance and beauty, CJ MacAllister-Moore-Gordon certainly lived up to her reputation for knowing how to make an entrance.

  Giving her son her cheek and a brief side hug, CJ surveyed the room. She crossed toward the open kitchen to Mia, awkwardly holding out an arrangement of fall flowers in front of her, like a shield, saving her from any real contact with the woman who had been her archenemy since they were teens.

  “Thank you for inviting me.” She handed Mia the flowers.

  “These are beautiful. Thank you. You really didn’t have to.”

  “Is Holly here yet?” she asked her hostess, without even acknowledging Mia’s comments.

  Mia shook her head.

  “Hello, I’m Seth,” he introduced himself, as Mia forgot he was standing next to her.

  “Seth.” She nodded, extending her hand with a close-mouthed smile.

  “I see you’ve met my better half.” Henry came up behind her.

  Turning at the familiar voice, CJ broke into her first real smile. “Look at you, how handsome you’re looking.” She gave Henry a hug, whispering in his ear, “At least I have one friend here.”

  He gave her a squeeze to let her know that she did. He had never liked CJ and knew in his gut that she was behind Schooner losing Mia in college. And he’d been right. CJ was manipulative, self-serving, and self-absorbed. But that’s not all she was. She was the woman who made him organic pureed food when his psychotic lover broke half the bones in his face. And on the darkest day of his life, the day he buried his beloved partner, Quinn, CJ took over, hiring and directing a catering staff to ensure that neither he nor Quinn’s mother had to lift a finger or worry about anything but making it through that brutally heartbreaking day. So, for all the wrong she had done, Henry knew that when the chips were down, CJ could be counted on to come through, without ever having to be asked.

  “What can I get you to drink?” Seth asked.

  “White wine.”

  Even her drink matched her suit. Sitting down next to Zac on the couch, CJ took notice of Portia and Nathaniel for the first time.

  “You look just like my son did,” she said to Nathaniel, who appeared confused. “I’m Zac’s mommy,” she explained.

  Natie looked from CJ to Zac and then turned around to look at Mia.

  “You’re Zac’s mommy. That’s my mommy.” Portia pointed to Mia.

  “Yes, dear, I could tell. You have the same hair. And you wear it just like she wore it in college.”

  Not understanding CJ’s true intent, Portia took the words as complimentary, smiling broadly at the woman. Entering the room just in time to hear the exchange between his young daughter and his ex-wife, Schooner shook his head.

  Leaning down from behind the couch, it looked as if he were going to kiss the cool blonde’s cheek, but instead he whispered in her ear, “You are a guest in our home. I expect you to be civil.”

  Craning her alabaster neck, she smiled, a close-mouthed smile, at her ex-husband. “Always a pleasure to see you, too, Schooner.”

  Standing, she smoothed down her pencil skirt, and walked toward the kitchen, without a second glance at her ex.

  “Mia, may I have a moment with you?”

  “Sure, give me one sec.” She put down the slotted spoon and washed her hands. “Let’s go talk in Schooner’s office.” Mia led the way, closing the door behind them, not really knowing what to expect.

  Being in a room alone with CJ had only happened once before in her life and the results had been disastrous for her as CJ convinced her that Schooner never loved her and only saw her as an obligation and charity case, causing Mia to flee before ever confronting Schooner. That conversation was the life-altering genesis of a twenty-four-year separation from the man she loved.

  “I wanted to talk to you before Holly gets here,” CJ began.

  “Her well-being is something you and I share.”

  “Good, then will you please fill me in on the details. I need to know what I’m dealing with here.”

  “We had no idea that she had met Tom. I had not seen the man in like twenty years, so we were really shocked.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “Intelligent, charming,
talented, handsome. Female students love him. Male students want to be like him. He’s not very good at monogamy.” Mia strained to find the right words, not really knowing what they were.

  “Is that why you broke up with him?”

  “Yes. I caught him in our bed with one of his students. Keeping his dick in his pants was not his strong suit.” There. It was out.

  “Once a cheater, always a cheater.” CJ nodded, as she stared at a spot on Schooner’s desk. Inhaling deeply, she looked back at Mia, pointing a finger at her. “I’m going to take one for the team. So, don’t you forget it.”

  “What are you going to do, CJ?” Mia, of all people, knew the lengths this woman would go to in order to get her way.

  “It’s best you’re not complicit.”

  “Well, thanks for that.” Not knowing what she would pull, it was a relief to know that.

  “Thank me later.” CJ brushed past Mia, exiting the office.

  Mia stood there for a moment, not moving. This certainly is going to be a shit storm, she thought. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to leave the quiet office, knowing that this moment alone would be her one and only peaceful stretch of the day.

  As Mia walked out, the elevator call buzzed. Seth was closest to the intercom.

  “It’s Holly and,” he paused, “Tom,” and proceeded to push the button. “And Lois and Bob.” His eyes were wide as he turned to Mia.

  “What?” Mia raced over to the intercom screen for a visual. “I almost feel sorry for him.” She watched the four enter the lift. Laughing, she turned to Seth, “Now that’s poetic justice. Too bad we don’t have a ‘Get Stuck Between Floors’ button.”

  “Just pray she doesn’t come out of the elevator with his balls. We don’t have room in the oven for another course.”

  There was a collective holding of breath as the door to the elevator opened. Holly and Lois emerged first, and shrieks of “Nana” and “Holly” drew all attention away from the men entering the apartment, except for CJ. As she slowly stood, waiting for the melee to subside before approaching her daughter, her eyes were locked on Holly’s lover. He was a fine-wine man, one of the few, like her ex-husband, who aged well, and just becomes sexier to women of all ages, with every year that passes. But what was Holly doing with him?