Once in a Lifetime

by Harper Bliss

  “To our next date, then.” She raises her glass and scans my face, her eyes halting at my mouth. “Has anyone ever told you that you have the sexiest lips this side of the Hudson?”

  “Oh really?” I curl said lips into a pout. “Who lives on the other side of the Hudson?”

  Later, when she walks me home, the heat of the alcohol warms my flesh, but it’s also Suzy’s presence next to me that heats me up. She’s exciting and full of promise and entertaining and, as it turns out, a bit of a lady as well.

  As promised, she kisses me gently on each cheek, throws in a stiff, lingering hug—and oh, her body pressed against mine already feels so good—and then leaves. By the time I make it upstairs, my muscles are still tingling and my skin is even more flushed.

  I pass by the picture of Leigh and Troy and consider that I haven’t felt like this after a first date since the one I went on with Leigh Sterling.

  * * *

  My first time with Suzy happens on our third date. Our second one got cut short because Rosie got sick and I received a call from the babysitter a few minutes after I’d sat down at the restaurant. Suzy was such a good sport about it that I was tempted to take her up on her offer to accompany me home and take care of Rosie together, but I guess we both understood that it was more out of politeness that she offered, because a second date was really a bit soon for introducing her to my daughter. Moreover, I wasn’t in a hurry to introduce anyone to my children after Amy, because if things didn’t work out again it would also be their heart I’d be breaking—and I’d done it to Troy twice already.

  For our third date, Suzy invites me to her apartment above the bar for a takeaway and a bottle of wine. We both know what that’s code for. By then, I’m so hot for her that in between replying to emails at work, I daydream about kissing the lines of that tattoo on her wrist—much to Muriel’s delight.

  “Good God, girl,” she says, “you’re making me miss that exquisite thrill of the first few dates. Have some consideration for a woman who’s been faithful to her partner for two decades.”

  And it is thrilling. Knocking on Suzy’s door is such a rush, I’m slightly dizzy by the time she opens it. She’s wearing tight jeans again, and they make her legs look even longer. She’s not a fancy dresser, but I like her casual, no-fuss style. Almost anyone can look good in layers of make-up and the right skirt, but not everyone can pull off jeans and a t-shirt and make it look sexy and inviting.

  “Don’t mind the mess,” she says after she’s shown me in. “Dave hasn’t bothered to move most of his stuff out yet. Lazy bastard.”

  “I only have eyes for you,” I say.

  “Oooh.” Suzy brings her hands to her sides. “She flirts.” She cocks her head to the side and looks me over. “You’re such a posh girl, Jodie.” She doesn’t say if she thinks that’s a good or a bad thing.

  The bottle of wine I brought empties quickly, but when Suzy offers to open another I decline. “I don’t want to be drunk for what comes next,” I say, as I lean back in my chair.

  “You’re such a lightweight.” She says it with a devilish smirk on her lips that ignites something between my legs.

  “We’ll see about that.” I push my chair back and wait for her to come for me.

  And she makes me wait, which only intensifies the pulse between my thighs. After a few slow seconds, she walks over and straddles me with her long legs.

  “First,” she says as she looks down at me, lowering her face toward mine slowly, “we kiss.” And then we do. And I’ve only known one other time in my life that from the very first instant my lips met another woman’s, I knew it would be special. I recognize the feeling as it jolts my core and awakens all my senses. With Suzy, it’s the real deal. I don’t know how I know, or how my brain processes this wishful thinking into actual information, but I feel it course through every cell in my body nonetheless.

  Soon, we’re tearing off each other’s clothes and stumbling toward the sofa in a frenzy of blind, first-time lust. Suzy fucks me while gazing into my eyes, as though she already knows that I like to be watched like that, and I can see her lips curl into a sly grin—another massive turn-on—just before I’m about to come.

  And, of course, our first time is not kinky, nor does it push any boundaries. That’s not what first times are for. But when we lie in each other’s arms afterward, our lips stretching into smiles against each other’s skin, I vow not to make the same mistake I made with Amy, and I resolve to openly tell Suzy about my desires sooner rather than later.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  When I first get the email I blink twice because I think I need to have my glasses adjusted. But there it is: the letters spelling out ‘Troy Dunn’ the way they’ve always done, just not in my mailbox. My heart in my throat, I click it open.

  Hi Leigh,

  I hope you don’t mind me emailing you out of the blue—and after all these years. I’m an undergrad at Berkeley now, and the idea is to go to Law School after. I was wondering if you’d like to meet up sometime? Professor Steiger (who teaches Criminal Justice) speaks so highly of you.

  I understand if you don’t feel up to it, but I’d really like to catch up and pick your brain.

  Best,

  Troy

  P.S. This has nothing to do with Mom. She doesn’t know I’m contacting you.

  I keep staring at the last sentence. How old is he now? I count on my fingers. He should be in his second year. I don’t hesitate and hit the reply button immediately. I may not have a lot of room in my schedule for romantic shenanigans, but for Jodie’s son, I’ll free up all the time in the world.

  Troy was eleven years old the last time I saw him. Saying goodbye to him hit me much harder than I had anticipated, but I could hardly negotiate visiting rights with Jodie because of the reason for our break-up. Plus, I knew it would only make things harder in the long run. A clean break, I thought. From mother and son.

  Troy and I met at Jodie’s apartment and as a parting gift I’d brought him The Death Star Lego set. He had mostly grown out of playing with Lego by then, but I had bought it for old time’s sake. Because it was our thing and I wanted him to have something cool to remember me by.

  I saw a tiny spark of excitement flicker in his eyes before they went dim with held back tears. After having to say goodbye to that boy, I swore I would never date a mother with non-adult children ever again, because of the total unfairness of it all. At least that was one goal I set and reached without having to go through a lot of trouble. Since Karen and I broke up, I haven’t dated anyone, let alone a mother.

  And, of course, in those moments when I looked into Troy’s sad face on that rainy Saturday in early May 2003, the question came to me again: why can’t I do this for her? And for him? Am I really that selfish? Am I really putting myself and the pursuit of my career before this boy’s happiness? After all, Jodie had put her desires aside for me. She’d waited until she believed she couldn’t anymore, perhaps hoping, in vain, that the passing of time might change my mind. But time passing wouldn’t make a mother out of me. Nothing would. Not even six years in the presence of Troy, for whom I cared deeply, but who already had two parents—and I wasn’t one of them. I loved him, perhaps as a mother would love her son—I had no way of comparing—but I always believed that if I did, there would never be enough of that to go around for two of Jodie’s children. How could I, a person who had zero track record of being interested in mothering children, ever be enough? Or be unafraid enough to try?

  “Why are you leaving?” he asked in a small voice I had rarely heard him use.

  I exchanged a glance with Jodie and she took over—she let me off the hook again. “It has nothing to do with you, sweetie.” She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I explained it earlier,” she said to both of us.

  I had prepared some replies to possible questions, the way I did in witness prep but with myself on the stand and an eleven-year-old asking them. There was nothing of the lawyer left in me that after
noon. I wasn’t a lawyer, nor a witness. Just a breaker of hearts.

  “Can I have one last hug?” I asked, and shuffled a little closer.

  I hadn’t expected him to throw himself into my arms the way he did, and that floored me most of all. That unspoiled, unfiltered affection.

  When I looked at Jodie, her son in my arms, I saw from the look in her eyes that she may one day forgive me for leaving her, but never for doing this to her flesh and blood. I would not forgive myself for a long time either, because to chip away a little at the innocence and, even for a moment, the easy happiness of a child, is not something you recover from quickly.

  And now Troy is asking to see me. I reply that I would love to and that he should send me a few possible dates to meet. He responds not long after and a few days later I’m on my way to Berkeley.

  He looks more like Gerald than Jodie, but he has her eyes, and that way of hers when he swats away the hair from his forehead with a flick of his wrist. When I extend my hand for him to shake, he pulls me into a hug, and I notice he’s taller than me—he must get that from Gerald as well. Overall, he just looks healthy with youth and intense energy. And I have to dig deep to not show all that I’m feeling, have to strengthen my core and straighten my spine and hope that it’s enough.

  “Look at you,” I say, and can’t help but shake my head a little.

  He shoots me a grin. I’m not sure it contains reflections of Gerald’s smile because I didn’t encounter that very much. It’s not Jodie’s, though. Even though it’s her son I’m sitting across from, I’m bombarded with memories and nostalgic emotions. But Troy is an entirely different person now. He’s all grown up, and I can only imagine how it must have torn Jodie up inside to send him off to college. Did it sting more because he decided to enroll at Berkeley?

  “You look great, Leigh,” he says. The early spring sunshine produces enough heat for us to sit on the outside terrace of the bar. “I have to admit I was quite nervous about emailing you, but I couldn’t not, you know?”

  “Yeah.” It’s way too late for an apology. And Troy seems to have grown into a nice guy, despite me leaving. Even though I know he didn’t invite me for a drink to discuss his mother, I have to ask. Before I can say anything else, I need to know. “How’s Jodie doing?” Luckily, I can keep my voice from cracking when I say her name.

  “Mom’s doing fine.” Does she ever visit? I want to ask. Has she been here, in my adopted city? The mere thought sends a shiver up my spine. “And I have a sister now. Rosie. She’s six and not at all annoying.” That smile again.

  Mom’s doing fine. What does that mean? Is she with anyone? I can’t bring myself to ask.

  “She’s seeing someone again.” Troy answers my question for me. “It seems quite serious. Her name’s Suzy. She’s good fun.”

  I nod, hiding my discomfort. “Good to hear everyone’s doing well.” Unexpected panic floods me. What was I expecting? That Troy contacted me to set me up with his mother again? To hear that things haven’t worked for Jodie on the personal front over the years? In the hope she might have let slip that she misses me? Suzy. Maybe I can get him to spill her last name so I can google her later.

  “How are you?” Troy asks. His voice is light and he seems oblivious to the turmoil raging inside of me.

  “I get by.” A college student who’s also the son of my ex is not someone I’m going to confide in.

  “Get by, my ass.” He slaps the tabletop with his fingertips. “You’re the hottest lawyer in the Bay Area.” He holds up his hands. “I’m going to be honest with you, Leigh, when I let it drop that I knew you, my status in my Criminal Justice class went right up.”

  I can’t help but chuckle. Meeting Troy isn’t about sentimentality. Troy was just a boy when it happened and for him it’s all been water under the bridge for years. He’s after the clout that comes with being associated with me. I’ll happily oblige. “If we need to be seen together somewhere, just let me know,” I joke.

  I clearly remember the concentration on his face when we made one of these huge puzzles together. He must have been seven or eight, then. His little tongue sticking out from between his lips as he pushed a piece in place, followed by a proud grin.

  “I can only take so much advantage of you.” He sips from his Coke. “But I could use your help with an assignment.”

  “Cutting straight to the chase is a good trait for a future lawyer.”

  “Oh no, not right now. Please don’t think that.” He blushes. Maybe he does have more of Jodie in him than I caught at first glimpse. “I’m not that slick and harsh just yet.”

  “We’ll work on that too, then.” I send him a wicked grin. A short silence falls.

  “Look, Leigh…” I can tell he’s struggling to say something he’s been chewing on for a while. “When you first left, I was angry. Mom explained, but I still didn’t understand, you know?” His shoulders relax again. “For the longest time, I was convinced I never wanted to see you again.” His lips form a thin stripe in between sentences. “But I grew out of that as well. I understand now why things didn’t work out with you and Mom. And I realize it must have been hard for you as well. I mean, you and I were pretty close. So…”

  “Thank you for saying that.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Are you going to tell Jodie that we met?”

  “I don’t know.” He shrugs, indicating he hasn’t given that particular matter a lot of thought. “Do you think I should?”

  “Depends.” Just thinking about it awakens nerves I haven’t experienced for years. “If we see each other again, you probably should. She’d want to know.”

  “I guess.” His face breaks out into a smile again. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “No.” I glare at his white t-shirt which strains around his shoulders. At that dark mop of hair that keeps falling into his eyes. There’s currently only one heartbreaker sitting at this table. “Not at present.”

  “Oh,” is all he says, because what else can he say? “It was never the same with Mom’s other girlfriends, you know.”

  A flutter in my chest.

  “Well, she was single for a very long time after you—”

  “I don’t know if we should talk about this, Troy.” My voice quivers.

  “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?”

  “No, but Jodie might not appreciate you telling me about her love life.”

  “Maybe not, but I can tell you about my life, can’t I?” Troy Dunn will make an excellent lawyer.

  “Of course.” Despite what I’ve just said, curiosity burns inside of me. I want to know everything, even though I’ll only end up mulling the information he gives me over and over in my head, trying to draw comparisons, and hoping I still, somehow, in some crazy, illogical parallel universe, come out on top.

  “Rosie and I only ever met Amy, and now Suzy. Anyone else she dated never made it past our front door when I was there.”

  She must have been so careful to keep Troy from being hurt again.

  “Amy was all right. She had two sons my age, Scott and Ryan. It was fun to have brothers for a little while, I guess. We almost moved in with them, but then, for some reason, it didn’t happen. According to Scott, it was all Mom’s fault, but he never really said why.”

  “That must have been hard.” The engine in the back of my brain starts churning. Amy with two sons. “Having other kids around and then having to say goodbye.”

  “I guess.” He shrugs again. “For a while.”

  “Does Suzy have any children?” I can’t help myself. It’s like a door has opened, and I need to walk through it.

  “No. She has moved in, though.” He grins. “She makes such a mess. And you know what Mom is like.”

  While it was strangely satisfying to hear that Amy and Jodie didn’t move in together, it stings that Suzy has made it that far. “Does Jodie still live on York Avenue?”

  “Yep. Same old place. I don’t think she’ll ever leave there. Rosie has my room now, so I usuall
y end up on the sofa when I go home. Or at my dad’s.”

  “That must be rough. To have your room taken over like that.”

  “If it were anyone else…” He reaches for his phone. “But look at this face. You couldn’t stay mad at her for more than five seconds either.” He shows me a picture of a curly-haired girl grinning widely. Her green eyes hit me hard. The child in this picture is, put very simply, the reason why Jodie and I broke up.

  “She’s adorable.” I can’t hide the agony shooting through me like a freshly sharpened arrow, slicing through my flesh, puncturing everything.

  Troy puts his phone on the table and looks at me. “Are you okay?”

  But I don’t want to fall apart in front of Jodie’s other child. The irony of it would be unbearable. “I’m fine.”

  “Mom eventually told me why you broke up… I mean, I know…” He shuffles in his seat.

  My own phone saves me. I didn’t bother taking it out of my purse and I have to dig deep for it now, as if I have to linger in this moment of despair as long as possible. “Sorry, it’s my boss. I should take this.”

  Troy nods and starts fiddling with his own device.

  I talk to Steve for a few minutes and seize the opportunity to fake an emergency. “I’m very sorry to cut this short, Troy, but something has come up at work. I have to go, but I’d love to see you again.” I fish a card out of the side pocket of my purse and hand it to him. “Call me anytime.”

  “I will.” He stands. Does he want to hug again? He just puts his hands on my shoulders and squeezes. “You can be sure of that.”

  On my way back to the city, I do wonder if I’ll ever see him again. Did he see me freak out? I wouldn’t blame him for not wanting to deal with that. Rosie’s picture flashes before my eyes. Not because I suddenly regret not becoming a mother, but because there were times when I tried to stop Jodie from becoming the mother of that smiling girl.