My Last

by Stefania Gil

  “That,” I replied sarcastically, “or you're fooled all the time.”

  He gazed at me curiously and I wanted to nail my mouth shut so I would not speak again all night because without realizing it, I was telling him things about me.

  “Exactly.” He smiled. “Tell me about that later.” He winked at me. “So one day, I decided I wanted to have a child and if I did not find my ideal woman, I would have to find other ways to reach my goal.”

  A persistent man.

  “You adopted?” I asked “spontaneously” again. He smiled at me. I was beginning to feel at ease on our “date”

  He shook his head.

  “No. I researched adoption but as a single parent it was a bit complicated and could take more time than I had in mind. I didn’t want to reach the age of 50 and they finally approve the application. So I took another path. My best friend. Angelina. We have known each other since childhood. We always lived next door to one another however, we could never see ourselves as lovers. Our love has always been platonic. We have been together and supported each other our whole lives. She was in the same situation as me and we decided to go to a fertility clinic.”

  “With your best friend?”

  “Who else? I know she is an excellent woman. She loves children and as a person, she is the kindest soul I know after my mother and my sister” —more information—. “So yeah, with my best friend. In the fertility clinic, they did in vitro fertilization and fortunately, nine months later, our beloved Sienna was born.”

  “Wow!” —I was surprised—. “I had never heard such a story. I'm glad you've been able to reach your goal of becoming a father. I knew it very early on. Children are beautiful as long as they are someone else’s. I never felt like being a mother.”

  “Yes, it is not an easy task and the mother is who always has the hardest job. No matter how many contributors, we are the parents.”

  “That’s right. I understood when Holly and Sam’s children were born. Sam was a father like few others. He even helped Holly with the house chores. Holly was always tired. She slept less and her time was no longer hers. At times, she would tell me at night she would wake up for no reason and demanded to be awake because she had to take advantage of every minute she slept. After a while she would hear one of her children crying, having a nightmare or something else. She said she always woke up before her children needed her.”

  “Yeah, Angelina's talking about that strange connection, too.” James sighed. “The fact is that since we learned about the pregnancy, we decided to move in together,” I swallowed thickly. “Don’t be afraid, Jen. Angelina and I live together but we are not together. I bought a two-story house and I converted it the necessary renovations in order for each of us to live on a floor without invading the life of the other. So we could be together, raising our little one but also, each one could have a separate life, to do with it what they wanted.”

  “Have you succeeded?”

  “No problem. I think it was the best decision of our lives. Sienna knows her parents love each other, but as friends. She lives in a quiet, peaceful environment full of harmony and love. Even though our houses are separate, most days we have dinner together. Some days she stays with me, some with Angelina. Whenever I'm not at home by the time she goes to bed, she calls me to say good night and remind me she loves me.”

  I could not help but smile tenderly.

  “And you, how do you feel about living like this?”

  “Well, it's normal for us. We were always neighbors. Her family and mine are great friends too, so it has been very easy for everyone.”

  “How old is she?”

  “She just turned three.”

  He smiled proudly.

  “I suppose then, she is the ‘Little Mouse’ who called you the other day?” Really, Jen? Are you going to ask?

  James laughed.

  “I knew you were dying of curiosity. Yes. She is my ‘Little Mouse’ and the first call I received from another of my little mice—” I interrupted.

  “The Rebel.” Be quiet, Jen! Be quiet!

  “Exactly, the Rebel, it's my niece Sophia. “Mama Mouse is—”

  “Angelina.”

  Please, I needed someone to beat me so I can stop saying stupid things!

  James smiled again.

  “No. That nickname is only for the women in my family. In addition, Angelina hates nicknames. Even when I call her Angie, although due to the nature of our relationship, she sometimes allows me to. ‘Mama Mouse’ is my sister Aurora. When she became pregnant with Sophia, I decided to add the ‘Mama’”

  Without realizing it, we had finished dinner.

  I wiped the corners of my mouth with the cloth napkin and sipped my wine.

  “What happened the day you received the call from your niece and had to quit the job at the florist?”

  “Sienna. It's just she hadn’t stopped all day. My sister and her daughter were at my house taking care of her for a couple of hours until Angelina arrived. Sienna fell. They needed gauze to dress the wound. However, I couldn’t stop worrying and that's why I went home. From there, we took her to the hospital because the wound didn’t stop bleeding and needed suturing. Then I took care of her for several days because Angelina is a surgeon and you can imagine of how her work schedule is. My sister was busy those days, also.”

  “James, your daughter is more important. You don’t have to justify yourself to me, you had to take care of her, period.”

  “I'm glad you understand, because first of all I'm a father.”

  AHA! A warning I had to take very seriously. I changed the conversation.

  “I thought all those ‘Mice’ were women you used to have fun with.”

  James' laughter was heard throughout the restaurant. Some people turned to smile at us.

  “To want to have an occasional relationship with me, you invented a lot of stories.”

  Stupid, conceited.

  “The truth is I'm curious to know if I'm on your contact list as ‘Little Mouse’ as well.”

  “Not yet.”

  I almost spit the wine out of my mouth.

  Not yet?

  I think my facial expression was of absolutely panic.

  “I really like you, Jen. I am ready to win your heart.”

  With how well I had eaten, suddenly my stomach was threatening to empty its contents.

  “Now, tell me about yourself. I have been talking about my daughter the entire evening and I don’t want our dinner to be only talk about her. I want to get to know you. What if you tell me why you're so afraid of love?”

  Couldn’t the man be a little more subtle?

  Breathe deeply.

  I told him about my two marriages.

  “What foolish men!”

  “Yes, it’s true.”

  “You know? Deep down, I thank them for that.” My eyes widened in surprise. “Thanks to their deceptions, you are free, and I found you.”

  “You found me at a time of my life where I don’t care about love at all. So I don’t think you want to be thankful for that.”

  “Mmmm, fears are overcome with confidence, and confidence, you earn. I’m willing to earn yours.”

  He winked at me with his lopsided smile that scattered a hellish heat throughout my body.

  I didn’t know how to answer. My mind short circuited.

  He took the time to request and pay the bill. Shortly after, we left the restaurant.

  We got into the car again and he took me home.

  “I thought we were going somewhere else,” I said in surprise.

  It could not be a more formal date.

  A real nightmare for me.

  He looked seductively at me placing a hand behind my neck and pulling me to him.

  He kissed me as if it were the last time we would see each other.

  His tongue seared mine.

  I was tempted to invite him into my house. I must admit I was very strong when I didn’t.

  He stroked
my thighs with his free hand and a growl escaped him when he found the thin elastic straps holding the nylon stockings to my panties.

  I opened my legs a bit more to let him caress further.

  The moisture only he could conjure began.

  Before his hand reached my most intimate place, he stopped. He cradled my face in his hands and pulled away from me.

  “Better go in, Jen. Today we won’t end up in bed.”

  My agitated breathing kept me from speaking.

  My brain had stopped working altogether.

  He gave me a sweet kiss on the lips.

  “Sleep tight.”

  I stared at him wide eyed.

  “Don’t you want to see what I'm wearing underneath?”

  “Not tonight.” He repeatedly kiss me. “I'm leaving, imagining what you are wearing and how I would tear it off with my teeth. I really am.” His finger slid down my thighs, making my belly contract, “but I want to do things differently with you.”

  Automatically, my libido disappeared. I was nauseous with the fear I faced due to this statement. .

  He wanted to do things differently with me. And what was it I wanted? It was very clear this man totally weakened me.

  ***

  The next day I arrived at the florist with two cups of coffee and chocolate chip cookies for breakfast with Rick.

  I knew he'd be expecting me early to tell him how my “date” with James had gone.

  I trembled when I thought about me having a date.

  “Good morning,” I said when I got to the work area. Rick was making a nice autumnal bouquet.

  “Darling!” He said when he saw me. I was dying for you to come at a good time. “Please, tell me, you didn’t ruin your date with James,” he protested when he saw the look on my face.

  I put on some makeup that morning. Even though I had used almost all the concealer, I couldn’t completely disguise the bags under my eyes.

  “No Rick, I didn’t ruin it.”

  “Then why do you look like you haven’t slept a wink the whole damn night? You also don’t look like you have insomnia or had a night of sex?”

  I snorted.

  Rick could be far more perceptive and thoughtful than my best friend.

  I told him everything that happened the night before.

  “How thrilling!” He said when I finished the story. He applauded with happiness. “I told you Jen, that man is delighted with you.”

  “I got it,” I mumbled.

  “And why didn’t you sleep, if your date was so good?”

  “Why do you think, Rick? I'm so terrified of James. Yesterday he told me more about his life, than I would have wanted to know.”

  “Phew,” he snorted. “Stop fooling yourself. You love that he told you and it’s logical to be terrified by the bad experiences you have had with love, but, darling, stop being afraid. Give yourself over to the adventure. Be happy.”

  He was right, right? However, I had trouble admitting it.

  “Tomorrow you should take advantage of Black Friday and go shopping. Go out and buy sexy underwear and crazy shoes so your seduction spark with James will always be kept alive.”

  I laughed.

  “First, I hate shopping on Black Friday. It's crazy to go shopping that day along with the rest of the country. Secondly I have very sexy underwear that has not been seen yet, thirdly, I don’t have to keep any spark alive with James because—” I interrupted myself.

  Because ... There’s no need? My brain continued.

  Say it out loud. The naughty voice inclined to let me go on the adventure with James told me.

  Say it!

  Rick looked at me anxiously.

  “Because... no...” I sighed. “There’s no need.”

  Rick studied me with a mischievous spark in his eyes.

  “Keeping alive the spark of seduction is always needed, as well as keeping the day to day details, keeps the conquest alive. I smell love in the air. What a success, sweetheart!”

  “You are unbearable!” I said as I took the bag and headed to my office.

  Rick began to sing-at the top of his lungs-love songs.

  I opened the door to my office and stopped when I saw a huge bouquet of red roses resting on my desk.

  My legs trembled.

  The whole office was impregnated with the wonderful smell of the flowers. Many would think roses were common. Everyone chose to give roses. However, for me, it was the most delicate flower that existed and the red ones were my favorite.

  I approached the bouquet cautiously. Almost as if I were approaching a dangerous snake.

  There was a small card in the center of it.

  As soon as I could, I took it breathing deeply.

  I looked like I was about to suffer a nervous breakdown.

  I took the card from the envelope reading it aloud:

  “Today I give thanks because you appeared in my life. This is just the beginning, Jen”

  “Happy Thanksgiving Day”

  I had to sit down.

  A lump rose in my throat.

  Rick leaned into the office with a glass of water.

  “I knew you were going to panic with all of this. Drink some water.”

  I appeared terrified.

  I sipped the water. My lungs lacked air.

  “I've never been given red roses before, can you believe it?” I said to Rick in a shaky voice while looking at the bouquet.

  “I know,” he told me, sitting down beside me and placing a hand on my shoulder. “So when James called me the day before yesterday and told me to make you the best bouquets of red roses I could, I knew you and he were meant to be together. When he dictated to me what I should write on the card, I certify that this was the man who will make you happy. So,” he gave me a hug, “don’t let him go. Happy Thanksgiving Day.”

  He kissed me and left.

  I started to cry again like a fool.

  This time, I cried because I couldn’t believe everything happening to me. It was all so beautiful. It seemed like I was in a dream and as such, I was very afraid to wake up to realize —once more— love, only made me suffer.

  To say the pumpkin pie was great, would be an exaggeration. Never in my life had I ever prepared such a dreadful pie.

  I was so nervous that the poor pie was heavily contaminated. Not even a dog would have eaten it.

  I messaged James thanking him for the bouquet.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I just said “Thank you”

  He didn’t reply. I began to feel the strange anxiety that invades you when you want to receive a message from a special person and you don’t receive it.

  I questioned myself.

  Maybe I should try to write something more pleasant, and not as dry as a simple “Thank you” however, my brain wouldn’t come up with more.

  I resent the message several hours later, because perhaps, he didn’t receive it. Those things usually happen, right?

  On the way to Holly's house, I stopped at the grocery store and bought a pumpkin pie because I could not go there empty-handed. Also, I had committed to bringing a pumpkin pie.

  “I’m sure the pumpkin pie was bad because you were not cooking it naked for me.”

  I can assure you the chill I felt when I heard that voice behind me was not normal. Nothing normal.

  I turned around. And there was James. Dressed in jeans, white shirt and navy blue jacket. He had a red scarf around his neck.

  “Hi,” I said, blushing.

  “What happened to your pie?”

  “We'd better talk about something else, okay?”

  Why did you find it in the supermarket?

  “What a coincidence! I came for one myself. This supermarket is the best at preparing them. My sister didn’t have time to cook one and my mom would kill us if we went home without pumpkin pie. Mom is good at cooking pasta, like a good Italian offspring.”

  He smiled.

  “I can imagine.”

  “What's happe
ned to you?” He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand.

  I stared him in the eyes and on an overwhelming impulse, I hugged him.

  “It's the best Thanksgiving of my life,” I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  “Thank you for the flowers.” My voice trembled. “You surprised me with them. And for that, the pumpkin pie was horrific.”

  James let out a laugh I was beginning to love.

  “Are you making fun of me?” I protested.

  “Never, sweetheart,” he said, wiping away tears from his laughter. “I just can’t understand why I make you so nervous. They are flowers. That's what women like-he looked me dead in the eyes-because they're delicate like them.”

  Yes, yes, yes, it was official. I was in a dream.

  “I sent you two messages to thank you.”

  “Yes I know. I was just waiting for you to try a little harder.” He winked at me. “Someone who can’t make her famous pumpkin pie because of some flowers she received could write something more than a ‘thank you’ —I felt like an idiot. Although, “I must confess this encounter and your demonstration of spontaneous affection, surpass anything you could have written. This is going to be the best Thanksgiving Day.” He kissed me softly on the lips. “See you soon.” He kissed me again and left.

  I watched him walk away, pay at the register, and leave the supermarket.

  “Excuse me, but we're about to close,” an employee interrupted me.

  “Of course, I'm sorry.

  I hurried to the cash register smiling. I smiled, remembering how nice it had been to embrace James spontaneously and how good I felt doing it.

  My mood improved.

  I remembered Rose, I smiled again. I was facing my fears.

  Or at least, I thought so.

  ***

  The days went by fast. Maybe due to the amount of work I had at the florist, for the help I gave Holly from time to time with the ever-growing diet dessert orders or the organization we had to do for our next meeting with Susan and Caroline.