Mr. Right Goes Wrong

by Pamela Morsi

  Mazy caught herself sinking back, retreating within herself. She was surprised, both that she was doing it and that Eli had brought it on. The retreat was a warning signal that she and Dr. Reese had discovered. And she could not allow herself to give in to it.

  Rephrase and repurpose.

  Okay, she decided. Rephrasing the unhappy refrain in her head, she decided that Eli was not paying attention to her because he didn’t see her mother and son as often as he did Mazy.

  No wait, she could only rephrase things that were said. Rephrasing things that were done was the same as making excuses.

  She needed to repurpose. Eli was devoting his time to Tru and Beth Ann. This gave her time to watch him and see what a good stepdad he would make.

  No, no, that wasn’t a good repurpose. The repurpose needed to be about Mazy, not about Eli. All right, his time with her family freed her up to do...something else.

  She excused herself and went into the kitchen.

  It was spick-and-span, of course. Her mother had already cleaned up. But there was nowhere else for her to go. She couldn’t hang out in Tru’s room, or her mother’s. Her only other option was the bathroom. Sitting alone in a chair was better than sitting alone on the toilet. She opened her briefcase, but then closed it again. There was no real work for her to do. She never brought home files because they were all confidential.

  Mazy got to her feet and began straightening cabinets that were already straight. Her mother’s kitchen was as regimented and organized as an atomic lab. Even the area under the sink where she kept cleaning supplies was neat and tidy.

  “I need a hobby,” she mumbled to herself.

  Unable to come up with one on short notice, she spent the evening reading warning labels on household cleaners. Lots of good information there and a woman never knows when she might need to know the poison control toll-free number by heart.

  It was after ten when Tru called out a “Good night, Mom.”

  Mazy answered him as she rose to her feet. Suddenly Eli filled the doorway. He may have ignored her all evening, but he was looking at her now. He was looking at her as if he’d been starved for the sight. It made her heart beat faster.

  “Hi.”

  “What are you up to?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she answered. “I was just waiting on you. Do you want me to...to walk you home?”

  “Dear God, Mazy, you are beautiful.”

  It wasn’t the answer that she expected, but she liked it, anyway.

  Eli stepped forward and drew her into his arms. Mazy relaxed against him. His ardor was unexpectedly rough and hungry. She teased his lips until the response she got from him was passionate. All of her senses reveled in the embrace. The taste of his mouth. The masculine scent of oil and sawdust. The stubble of his five-o’clock shadow against her skin. The sound of his breathing and her own heart pounding in her chest.

  It was there. That feeling, that oneness, that she’d always sought, that she’d always longed for, that had always eluded her. It was right there in each other’s arms. She had found it at last and she wanted to revel in it, expand it, prolong it. She wanted to make it theirs, forever. And keep it both secreted inside their hearts and shared with the entire human race.

  He groaned against her mouth before he moved his attention down her throat. She felt him nip the skin near her collarbone. The feeling zizzed through her like an electrical current. Setting off sparks that she worried she couldn’t control.

  Reluctantly she managed to end the kiss, or at least in her own mind postpone the continuance of it. She was more than willing to lie in his arms, making out like someone half her age, until the need for sexual release became unbearable and inevitable. But they needed to be safe and secluded someplace private.

  Their lips parted and she pulled back slightly.

  “Nice,” she said.

  There was a strange change in his expression. A furrow appeared in his brow and the genuineness of his smile faltered. After a moment, he took a step toward her. Without even understanding why, she took a step back.

  “I’ll show you better than nice,” he replied. He jerked her off her feet as if she weighed nothing and set her up on the edge of the table.

  “Eli!”

  His name was a whispered squeal.

  His hands were at the button on her waistband.

  “Let’s get these jeans off you, babe,” he said. “There is nothing I like better than getting some on the kitchen table.”

  “What?” she asked in a scandalized whisper. “Not here.”

  “Yes, here,” he replied, undeterred.

  “No.”

  “Come on, babe. I know you’re hot for it. You’ve been waiting all night long.”

  “Eli, we can’t.”

  “Of course we can.”

  “My son’s bedroom is across the hall.”

  “He’s probably got his earbuds in.”

  “Well, my mother certainly doesn’t.”

  “She knows I’m screwing you. You know she knows.”

  “Yes, but not in her house. That’s...that’s...disrespectful.”

  “Respect has never been one of your things.”

  “It is,” she insisted. “Please, we can’t.”

  “Come on,” he urged. “It’s exciting. A little risk adds some spice to keep things from being so boring.”

  “Boring?”

  Mazy left her pursuit of that question as Eli had managed to get her zipper undone. His left arm around her was lifting her from the table as the right hand attempted to skim the pants off her. Fortunately, even her mom jeans were too tight for that.

  “Stop!”

  He did, immediately. Dropping her abruptly onto the table. She went back to whispering.

  “I am not having sex where my son or my mother might walk in any second. That is not happening.”

  He stepped back from the table.

  “Fine,” he said.

  Mazy attempted to right her clothes. She glanced up at Eli. She felt as if she didn’t even know him. He was her Eli, but somehow he was not.

  “Look, we’ll go over to your place,” she said. “We’ll do...whatever, something really kinky and unboring. But here, in my family’s home with my son and my mom, I’m not doing anything.”

  He was looking at her. Intently looking at her. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, what he was feeling.

  Eli was out of line. Risky sex was one thing if it was only about two consenting adults setting themselves up for potential humiliation. But repaying her mother’s generosity with insolence was an unpleasant idea. And the possibility of embarrassing, maybe even traumatizing, her son was beyond the pale of motherhood. Eli shouldn’t expect that and Mazy should never give in to it.

  She knew Eli was way off base. She knew it was the only decision she could make. She knew she was totally right. She knew it even as she heard the words that came out of her own mouth. “I’m sorry.”

  Eli stared at her for a moment and then turned and walked toward the door.

  “Let me get my jacket,” she told him.

  “Don’t bother,” Eli answered. “I’m out of the mood.”

  “But wait, I—”

  “Seriously, no big deal,” he said. “I’ll call you.”

  Of course, she already knew that he wouldn’t.

  31

  Mazy was sitting at her little desk next to the bank’s copy machine gazing at Nina Garvey’s loan file. There was something about it that bothered her, but she wasn’t sure what it was.

  Nina had been in early that morning. She’d brought Mazy a cute little cake. It was covered in yellow icing with a couple of slightly shaky-looking orange frosting leaves on top.

  “It tastes better than it lo
oks,” Nina assured her. “And I wanted to say thank you for your help.”

  In truth, Mazy didn’t have much help to offer. Nina’s loan was a perfect one to bundle and sell. There was nothing to recoup and very little chance that the economics of her situation would improve. And there were no assets to go after. Not even sufficient wages to justify garnishing.

  Mazy should have told her that it was hopeless. That the loan would be sold. Nina’s credit would be seriously harmed. Creditors would hound her for years to come. It would impact her ability to get a job. Make it tough for her to rent a home, nearly impossible to buy a car. Rule her out for most insurance. Even impact what she’d be charged for cell phone service.

  But Mazy wasn’t ready to tell her that. She wasn’t sure why she held back. Was it merely empathy or was it instinct? Something about the file bothered her. Something about it wasn’t quite right. She kept looking at it, trying to figure out what it was.

  This afternoon, however, looking had disintegrated into simply gazing. Her mind was completely elsewhere. Last night had been a strange mix of exuberant highs and gloomy lows and she was still reeling.

  Her mother had always been a fan of Eli. She was delighted to have him in Mazy’s life. And watching Eli with Tru convinced her that he would be a great family man and stepfather. He was a commitment guy. That’s what she needed. She had begun to seriously consider marrying him the next time he asked. And she anticipated that he would ask her from all the times in the distant past when he already had.

  He was Eli. Her Eli. The guy who had loved her all his life.

  But, he wasn’t.

  She went over the events of the previous night in her mind. She began to see that they were not so different from the weeks that had preceded them. The sex was great. The friendship even better. Eli was honest and kind. He was funny, entertaining. She enjoyed being with him, laughing with him. And at times his love for her just oozed out like an aura that enveloped her in well-being.

  But he could also be selfish and bossy and disinterested. He treated her disrespectfully and was careless of her feelings. At times he behaved like a first-class SOB.

  There was something messed up about their relationship.

  Mazy sat back in her chair and covered her mouth with her hand as if her silence could stop the questions that were forming in her brain.

  “You are not blind to the defects in these men,” Dr. Reese had told her. “Subconsciously you have chosen them specifically for those qualities. The only way to change that dynamic is to consciously prefer different criteria.”

  She had thought that was what she was doing.

  “A penny for your thoughts?”

  Mazy glanced up to see Tad standing in her doorway, smiling at her.

  “Mr. Driscoll, the bank is already paying for what my mind has to offer,” she told him.

  “Ah...” he replied with a little laugh.

  He had papers in his hand. She thought he was bringing her more work to do until he stepped over to the copy maker and put them in the machine. In the weeks she’d worked here, she’d never seen him make his own copies before.

  When he smiled like that, the years melted away and he looked much more like the teenage boy Mazy had fallen in love with, though the feeling was more nostalgia than anything else.

  Still, she knew even nostalgia could be dangerous.

  She turned back to the data on her computer screen.

  “There’s something about the Garvey file that doesn’t feel right to me,” she said. “I can’t put my finger on it.”

  Tad made no response at all. After a moment she turned to look at him. He was carefully tapping the ends of his papers together as if they would somehow scatter if not held firmly.

  “I understand that you want to help. She’s a sad case,” he said. “But we’re a bank, not a social service agency.”

  “I know that,” Mazy said.

  “If you want me to jump in and play the bad guy with these people, I’m willing to do that,” he said.

  Mazy tried to cover her surprise. Wasn’t that the whole idea of giving her this job, to make her the bad guy? Maybe what he had said at the basketball game was true. Maybe he had overreacted and now regretted it.

  “No, it’s okay,” she assured him. “I’m not afraid to tell people the worst. Most of them already know it.”

  “Well, better to do it sooner than later.”

  Mazy nodded. She knew he was right. Still, there was something that held her back. She glanced up at the little cake at the edge of her desk. Maybe it was simply softhearted empathy.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” she told him.

  After work she met Karly at Local Grind. Charlie moved around the room with a spring in his step that was almost as if he were walking on air. He was not saying much about the treasure he’d found on the walls, although the whole town had heard about it by now.

  “I don’t want my good luck to seem like bragging,” he explained. “Besides, once I pay off the bank loan, I’ll hardly be a dollop richer than I was before.”

  “It will be nice to own your building, free and clear,” Mazy pointed out.

  “It will,” he agreed. “Especially when I see Brakeman and Driscoll, thinking they put one over on me by getting me to buy this white elephant that was actually stuffed with cash.”

  Mazy enjoyed his enthusiasm. Of course, he still wasn’t out of the woods. He needed to get these empty rental spaces occupied. That was the best way to secure his business for the long run.

  But making customers he could keep helped, too. And he was obviously doing that as he made his way around the room chatting with the people and insuring that they had everything they needed.

  Mazy joined Karly at their usual table.

  “Did you bake us something?” Karly asked, pointing to the plastic cake carrier that Mazy had with her.

  “Me? You’re kidding, right? Cookies are about the limit of my baking abilities. Nina Garvey made this.”

  “Well, that was nice of her.”

  “It’s a thank-you,” Mazy told her. “One I haven’t yet earned and I’m not sure I’ll be able to.”

  Karly shrugged. “Trying is the best you can do,” she said. “I tell the kids at school that all the time. The only way to truly fail is not to try.”

  “Wise words,” Mazy agreed. She looked down at the cake again. “Why don’t we slice this,” she said. “You and I need the sugar like a hole in the head. But if I take it home, Tru will eat the whole thing in one sitting.”

  Karly feigned horror. “You are evil to tempt me. My youngest just turned nine and I still haven’t lost the baby weight.”

  Mazy got a knife and saucers from Charlie and ended up slicing the whole cake, saving only a couple of pieces for Beth Ann and Tru. She offered them to the other patrons at the coffeehouse.

  By the time she returned to their table, Karly was well into her portion.

  “This is the best cake ever,” she said.

  Mazy assumed the praise was hyperbole, until she bit into the dessert. The cake was incredibly light and moist, but without any hint of soggy.

  “Mmm, this really is great,” she told her.

  “Nina may not have a clue about how to pick a husband, but she sure knows her way around a baking pan.”

  Mazy agreed.

  Karly showed her the coffee mugs she’d decorated. The one she had done herself was Kandinskyesque, with colorful lines and circles barely revealing her husband’s name. Her children had decorated the other mug with Karly’s name. One side was festooned with smiley-face flowers. While the reverse revealed a black mess of something her son thought to be a zombie.

  “I can hold it left-or right-hand, depending on my mood,” Karly explained.

  Mazy laughed as she demons
trated, utilizing a smile with the happy side and the curled lip of the undead for the face of gloom.

  “People are going to love doing this,” Mazy told her.

  “Yeah, it was a great idea. When everybody in town has their own mug, I hope you’ll remember to pat yourself on the back.”

  “If I hadn’t thought of it, somebody else would have,” Mazy said.

  “I’m sure Thomas Edison said exactly the same thing.”

  “I hope there is no need for me to even point out the discrepancy in achievement,” Mazy said.

  Karly shrugged. “Small town, small successes. We’ll take a breakthrough wherever we can get one.”

  Mazy shook her head as she scraped the very last of the cake’s vanilla frosting from the edges of her saucer.

  “So I saw you at the basketball game with Eli,” Karly said. “You were looking good.”

  “We were looking like bees.”

  “Bees that spend a lot of time mating, I think. Kind of glowing with sexual satisfaction.”

  “What? I’ll have you know I’m a Brandt Mountain church lady now. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Brandt Mountain church ladies invented sex,” Karly told her. “Spill the beans. I want to hear everything. And I swear on my mother’s grave not to breathe a word.”

  “I thought your mother was still alive?”

  Karly shrugged. “Whatever. Dish. I gotta know.”

  Mazy laughed at her enthusiasm. “We are seeing each other. You already knew that.”

  “And it’s no longer a big sneaking-around-for-sex secret....” Karly allowed that statement to wander off with a suggestively raised eyebrow.

  “No, it seems like it’s not.”

  “And you really like him, don’t you?”

  Mazy allowed herself an instant of hesitation before she nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

  “I am so glad,” Karly said. “He is such a wonderful guy, everything that you deserve.”

  The phrase everything that you deserve replayed in Mazy’s head. She remembered the previous night in her mother’s kitchen. Was that what she deserved? Eli had been rude and unreasonable. She knew him to be kind and thoughtful and generous. She knew him to be considerate, to show deference and to be responsible. But the man she was having a relationship with didn’t show any of those qualities. At least, he didn’t show them to her, not anymore.