His first visitation, he spoiled them rotten with gifts and a weekend at the hotel with him and Uncle Nate. How am I supposed to compete? I find it difficult shifting into my new role where I’m the full-time disciplinarian now, and he just gets to be “the fun guy.” All of these things I never considered when the split first occurred. In the course of a night, my entire way of life completely changed. However, along with all of these negative changes come quite a few positive ones, as well. I had settled into such a rut that I admit it now; it was unfair to Brent. I see my past laziness, and I have no one to blame but myself.
I never was a confident person because of my insecurities. With Brent, I never needed to overcome them. I had him. He was mine. This is what led to complacency, and eventually, our demise. Now that he’s gone, I’m forced to work on my insecurities every single day. Being noticed for looking pretty and having a good time with a group aren’t bad things. They’re actually quite rewarding and fun, not the torture I assumed they’d be. Don’t get me wrong, I was scared shitless when I first started to expose myself to the world, but it’s becoming easier, and I feel my confidence growing.
Iris has been such a huge help with all of this. She is encouraging, without ever saying “I told you so.” She’s been trying to get me to appreciate my self-worth since college. Leave it to me to take twenty-something years to make it happen. Better late than never, right? But Brent. Do I still love him? Yes, I absolutely do. He’s what I think about when I wake up in the mornings, and the last thing I think about before going to bed at night. So many times I’ve picked up the phone to tell him, but every single time my pride stops me. What if a woman picks up? I’d be gutted. I know it’s bound to happen, but I’m not ready for it yet.
Then comes the day that it happens. It’s not via a phone call, but something much more impersonal. Natalie charges inside my classroom during recess and dumps her backpack on the floor. She’s breathless and waving a magazine around as she leans over my desk.
“Are you okay, Nat? What’s wrong?”
“Mom. Dad.”
“Breathe, Nat.” She plops the magazine onto my desk and thumbs through the pages until she finds what she’s looking for. Using her index finger, she slams it repeatedly against the page.
“This.”
I glance down at where her finger once was to see a picture of Brent and some leggy blonde walking away from a sports car. My mouth goes dry as I use shaky fingers to flip the magazine to the cover. It’s a sporting magazine. I flip back to the page with Brent. The caption tells how he’s predicted to be a stellar addition to the Bucks coaching staff. Nothing about who the woman is, nor why she’s in the picture. They’re not holding hands. They’re not staring lovingly into each other’s eyes, but they definitely were together.
“Do you know who she is?” I ask Natalie. I know I’m not supposed to grill the kids, but dammit, I need to know what she knows.
“No, Mom. I have no clue.”
I put on my best fake smile. “Ah, well, I’m glad they took the time to write such a nice thing about your father.”
“Are you?” she asks.
“Yes, absolutely. Why?”
“Because that vein in your forehead looks like it’s about to burst.”
“What? Oh, no. I’m great, Nat. Absolutely fantastic. I’m just overwhelmed by…” I quickly glance around my desk. “…all these papers to grade. Jeez. Essays on Edgar Allen Poe. Fun, right?”
Natalie sits on the edge of my desk. “Mom, you know it’s okay for you to be upset?”
I give her a more sincere smile. “Yes, sweetheart. I do. I’m fine. Really. It was just sort of a shock seeing that, is all.”
“Yeah, it was for me, too.” She looks a little forlorn. “I guess I thought Dad… Never mind.”
“Dad would what?”
She grabs her backpack and slings it over her shoulder. “Nothing.” I give her a look. “Really, Mom, it’s nothing.” My phone starts to buzz. I look down to see who it is.
“Aunt Iris,” I explain to Natalie. She nods and smiles.
“Tell her I said okay.”
“Huh?” I ask, looking down at the phone and then at Natalie.
“Trust me. Just tell her I’m good with it. She’ll know what I’m talking about. Bye!” And with that, Natalie bounces out of the room.
“Hello. Natalie says okay, whatever the hell that means.”
“Yes!” Iris says over the phone.
“What is my daughter agreeing to, Iris?” My tone is stern.
“Babysitting. You have no school on Friday because of the upcoming break, so I’m taking you out Thursday night.”
Colt struts into my room and plops himself in one of the chairs. I furrow my brows at him, but he doesn’t care. He’s been playing this game for weeks now, and it’s gotten him nowhere.
“I don’t think going out is a good idea, Iris. Brent will be picking up the kids on Friday, and he’s flying them back to South Carolina because of the vacation, and I’ll tell you, I’m kind of freaking out about it. My kids have never been a thousand miles away from me.”
“All the more reason you need to go out with me. You need to relax.”
“Going out will not help me to relax, especially on a Thursday night.”
“Yes, it will. We’re going to Maverick’s.”
“Maverick’s! No way, Iris.”
“Yes, way. Top Gun memorabilia, indoor beach volleyball, hot bartenders…”
“No.”
“I’ll be your wing man.”
“I don’t need a wing man, Iris.”
“The call sign is Viper.” I roll my eyes.
“I’m not calling you Viper.” Colt hides his laugh behind his hand. I make a shooing motion with my hand, but he ignores it.
“That’s okay, Goose. I’ll see you tomorrow. Nineteen hundred hours.”
“You’re sick, Iris.”
“Viper.”
“Goodbye, Viper.”
“Later, Goose.” The last thing I hear is her humming a few bars from “Danger Zone.” I toss the phone, and it clunks against my desk.
“Maverick’s tomorrow sounds great,” Colt says.
“No, it does not. I’m not going, and even if I did, you wouldn’t be invited.”
“You’re going to stop playing hard to get one day, Mallory. I’ll be here when that day comes.”
I shake my head. “Go away, Colt.”
“Your mouth says to go away, but your eyes beg me to stay.”
“Don’t you have to come up with some plays, or lift some weights, or something?”
“Don’t you worry about me. I know how to handle my business.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“I handle it well,” he says in a tone that is sexy, yet mocking.
“Shut up, Colt. Go.”
He rises from the chair, gives a wink, and bids me goodbye. I let out a pent-up breath. Iris is going to drag me out. There’s no getting around it, and I know it. Dammit.
***
Once we’re seated at the bar, Iris flags down the naval-uniformed clad bartender to our area. He lowers the pair of mirrored aviators he’s wearing to ask what we’re having.
“Two Tail Spins, please,” she calls over the soundtrack loudly playing throughout the converted warehouse.
“Roger that,” he says with a brilliant white smile before twirling two shakers, then setting them on the counter to mix the drinks. Iris looks around the room.
“Look! There’s a table over there. You go grab it, and I’ll take care of this.” I follow her outstretched hand and see a small table near the indoor volleyball court. Four shirtless men dash back and forth in the white sand, launching the ball across the net. Hmmm. Not a bad view, so I slide from the chair and move to the vacated table without further prompting.
I’m tapping my fingers in time with the music while watching the guy closest to me spike the ball when I hear a commotion from near the door. My heart seizes when I look over an
d see Brent and Nate walking through the doors. Shit! I never thought about him flying in early to get the kids, much less his bringing Nate with him. I shrink down into my seat and do my best to shield my face with my hand. The crowd goes wild shaking both Brent’s and Nate’s hands, offering hearty back slaps, and posing for pictures with them. Brent has never looked happier than he does being lost in the crowd of fans. His face beams with pride, his smile is genuine, and he looks good—really good. He’s always been in good shape, but he’s moved on to great shape. It makes the twenty-five pounds I’ve lost since I started working out with Iris feel insignificant. So much of me wants to tell him I miss him, but two things stop me. One, he might not want to give things another try, and the fear of rejection weighs heavily on my conscience. Two, if he does want to try again, would I be taking all of this away from him once he’s back to having a wife and kids swarming him all day, every day? Could I live with myself knowing I’ve helped to take his dream away? I’m so confused. I should just go.
The emergency exit in the back is looking really good, but Iris stopping at the table with two monster drinks in fighter-jet shaped containers stops me.
“What in the hell… Never mind. We have to go,” I rush out.
“What? Why?” she scans the room, and I see it in her face as soon as it clicks. “Nope. We’re staying right here.” She settles into her seat. “Turd. Ugh. Of all the bars, of all the nights. Here?” She shakes her head as she sucks the bright green drink through her straw.
I’m so shifted in my chair that my back completely faces the others while my front is flush with a wall. “I’m over here,” Iris says, snapping her fingers.
“Yes, you are, but I can talk to you just fine like this.”
“Mallory.” She’s unamused. I pull the jet over to the edge of the table and suck a few huge pulls from the straw. My nose stings from the fumes of the alcohol, and I desperately try to catch my breath.
“What…is…this?” I cough out.
“I told you. A Tail Spin.”
“I hope no one lights a match nearby.”
“Did you say you need a light?” Without looking, I tap my head against the wall. Colt.
“I thought I told you not to come,” I say with a scowl.
“Everyone knows that secretly means, ‘please come.’”
“No. No, it doesn’t, Colt. It meant stay far, far away.”
He pulls up a seat to sit beside me. “Your mouth says, ‘go away’ but your eyes say, ‘Colt, please stay.’ I’m going with the eyes.”
I give him an evil glare. “This says, ‘stay’?”
“Well, not right now, but earlier.” I’m shaking my head when I look over to see Iris’ arms slowly rising above her head as she sucks hard on her straw. A loud slurping announces that she’s finished her drink. Well that, and the fact that she jumps up and announces as much. “On it,” Colt announces as he dashes to the bar.
“Let’s go,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Shush and drink,” Iris returns. Pouting, I turn back to face the wall after another quick peek in Brent’s direction. Now they’re signing autographs. Gosh, he looks so happy. I suck down my drink, too.
Colt returns with three more drinks, and I feel like my face is on fire. How better to subdue the burn? Quench it with an ice-cold drink, right? Half of the jet is empty when I look up to see Colt pulling his shirt over his head. I choke and splutter neon green liquid everywhere.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
“Volleyball. They need another player.” I look over to see three of the four guys waving Colt over to the court.
“Oh, okay,” I start to relax a bit.
“Hold this for me?” he asks, leaning over to hand me his shirt. He positions his body so his chest rubs against my hands before he places a soft kiss at the junction between my lips and cheek. “Thanks, babe.”
I’m taken aback as he runs over to the court and kicks off his shoes. Iris stares wide-eyed and unblinking, and when I turn to drop Colt’s shirt into his chair, I see Brent’s eyes honed on me. NO! It’s not what it looks like! Should I run and tell him that? I should, shouldn’t I? I’m almost halfway up when Iris grips my wrist. “You don’t owe him an explanation, Mallory, but seriously. What the fuck? Are you holding out on me?”
“No!” I shout. “I don’t know what that was or even why? He jokes around and flirts a lot, but…”
“But, maybe it isn’t just playful and friendly flirting, Mal.”
“I see that now, Iris, and so did Brent!” I glance back over at him, and he’s backed into a far corner with Nate. My stomach hurts, my heart is heavy, and I’m so unbelievably torn. I drown my sorrows in the last of my Tail Spin.
Iris is cheering on Colt when another round miraculously shows at our table. “We didn’t order these,” I say, smiling politely as I wave away the server.
“I was told to send these over, and I have a message. ‘Congrats on the new guy. Fair is fair.’”
“Huh?” I ask.
“I just deliver them, ma’am,” she says.
“Oh, okay. Thanks.” I shift my attention to Iris. “What do you think that means?” She shrugs as she happily begins sucking down the fresh drink. About fifteen minutes later, Colt’s still playing volleyball, and Iris’ face falls slack.
“I figured it out,” she says in monotone.
“Figured what out?”
She flicks her head towards the door where I see Whitney walk through like she owns the place. Her skirt is short, her top hangs low, and she strolls right on over to Brent’s side where she attaches herself. I can’t breathe. At all. I knock over a chair as I quickly gather my things, and Iris works to calm me.
“No, Iris. I need to go. Please, don’t stop me.” She holds up her hands to show she doesn’t intend to do such a thing. Before I get to the door, I’m intercepted by Whitney.
“Hey, girl. Imagine running into you here. I was so happy when Brent called and asked me to join him and Nate. You know how it is when old friends get together.” Her fake laugh assaults my ears. I’m so mad at myself because I tear up instead of punching the shit out of her like I want to do. “Awww, are you sad because you don’t know what that’s like? I’m sorry I brought that up. It must be a painful reminder of how pathetic you are.”
Brent stands behind Whitney, shock written all over his face. She didn’t know he was there, and other than the night in the hotel room, he’d never witnessed how truly vicious her attacks on me can be. If she’d known he was within earshot, I guarantee she’d never have spouted off such cruelness. A tear breaks free, and I’m so mad at myself for letting them see how hurt I am.
The next thing I know Whitney is flat on the ground with Iris pummeling the hell out of her. Where did that come from? As soon as the initial shock wears off, I work to pull her off of Whitney, but I don’t have much luck. I take a tumble to the floor, and a pair of strong hands helps me back up. “Are you okay, Mallory?”
“Huh? Yeah,” I say, watching Iris continue to thrash around with Whitney. It isn’t Brent; it is a still shirtless Colt who came to my rescue, but only because Brent doesn’t get there first. He’s still squatting when I realize what has happened, and I gasp when I see him charge Colt.
“Brent! No!” I yell as he and Colt crash to the floor. Their rolling around session is cut short by the bouncers who separate the two fighting groups. Thirty minutes later, we’re all at the local jail. Iris and Whitney are still handcuffed to a bench across the room. Colt, icepack held against his face, is being interviewed at a desk to the far left of the room. Nate paces while talking on his phone, obviously doing some sort of damage control. Meanwhile, Brent and I sit on a set of connected waiting room chairs. We’ve remained silent since being instructed to have a seat, and though a thousand words roll through my mind, none seem appropriate.
After kicking at a dirt spot that actually turns out to be a chewed up piece of gum that now sticks to my shoe, I eke out, “Do you think t
hey’ll drop the charges?”
“Hmm?” Brent asks.
“The charges. Do you think they’ll drop them?”
“In a rush to get out of here with your boyfriend?”
“Why should that matter to you, especially since you’re here with your girlfriend?”
He crosses his arms. “If you must know, he’s not my boyfriend, Brent.”
“Just randomly kissing guys these days, then? Even better.”
I sigh. “What do you want from me, Brent? He’s never kissed me before, and honestly, I don’t know why he did tonight. It was chaste, believe it or not. However, Whitney…” My blood begins to boil. “We both know there’s nothing chaste about that, so why in the hell are you giving me such a hard time?”
“Whose watching our children while you gallivant around with other men?”
“Brent!” I snap. “You know damn well that I love our children more than the air I breathe. I’d do anything for them, and they are the most important thing in my life. Don’t you dare try to make me feel guilty about going out on a Thursday night at the prompting of my dear friend who is concerned about me holing up in my home.” My nostrils flare with fury.
“That wasn’t fair, and I apologize.”
Slowly sinking back into the chair, I unfurl my arms. “Do you love her, Brent? Will you be marrying her?”
“What?” he chokes out.
“Whitney.” I look to the floor. “It’ll take me some time, but…”
“I’m not with Whitney, Mal.”
“You’re not?”
“No.” My heart pitters in my chest, but it stops as fast as it starts.
“The blonde,” I mumble.
“What?”
“The beautiful blonde. Natalie showed me the picture, so she might have some questions for you.”
“What in the hell are you talking about, Mallory? I’m not seeing anyone. Well, there was sort of a date, but I didn’t know it was a set-up, if that makes sense.”
The Broken Road to Forever Page 22
