by Cora Davies
Claire sat on her front porch, digging her toes into the mud. She loved the mush against her skin, she always had. It reminded her of being a kid and freedom. A squeal of laughter from across the drive, and she smiled. Her kids, only fifteen feet away, dug into the dirt, making mud pies.
"If Mom saw them right now, she'd have a fit," Rachel said, handing Claire a cup of coffee and sitting down next to her on the bottom step.
"We always played in the dirt when we were kids." Claire laced her fingers around the cup of coffee, bringing it up to her face and enjoying the warmth as the steam rose. A chilly evening, Claire dressed the kids in galoshes, old sweatpants and coats they would outgrow by the end of winter. Robbie's sleeves were already short on him.
Robbie threw a handful of mud into the air, and it splattered on his head. The children burst into wonderful laughter. Claire would have to scrub the bathtub clean after the kids washed up, but they would sleep heavy that night, leaving Claire free to do homework.
"Yeah, we played in the dirt before Mom got all neat freak on us. You were in junior high by then, but my mud pie days came to an end. Alas." Rachel dramatically placed her hand against her forehead. "Around the time she started seeing that guy who was way too young for her." Rachel leaned her head on Claire's shoulder.
"Eww, that whole situation was gross. What was his name?" Claire screwed up her face at the memory.
"I don't remember. Pervy Pervington?" Rachel and Claire giggled.
"Sounds about right. He was a total perv." Claire remembered the guy was barely out of high school. "He used to stand in my doorway when I had sleepovers." She shuddered.
"What's a perv?" Ella asked. Claire looked up in surprise and Rachel laughed.
"Someone gross," Claire said. "Please don't use that word at school."
"A perv is a boy," Rachel said matter-of-factly.
"Is Robbie a perv?" Ella looked at her brother with suspicion on her face.
"No, not Robbie," Claire said, elbowing Rachel. Claire would have many paybacks to cash in on when Rachel had children one day.
Ella nodded and returned to sticking blades of grass in the top of her mud pie like birthday candles. But she glanced at Robbie every few seconds, suspicion on her face.
"Speaking of pervs," Rachel said, "Molly told me you and Eli made out. How come she told me, not you?"
"We didn't make out. We had a moment, where things got a little PG-13," Claire whispered, glancing at her kids. Ella was naming each of the worms in Robbie's worm collection. "But Robert called about Ella before we kissed."
"Can you get PG-13 without kissing?" Rachel asked.
"Trust me, you can." Claire sighed. "But, nothing else is going to happen."
"Yeah? I thought nothing was going to happen in the first place?"
"Nothing else will happen." Claire's face flushed with embarrassment. She wished Rachel would just drop it.
"How do you know?"
"Because I have children, I can't just... whatever. And, he hasn't talked to me since then."
"What do you mean he hasn't talked to you? I thought you guys sat next to each other at school?"
"Two classes. He didn't show up to art last week. Monday, he sat next to another girl in our group study, and he was all business at our group session. When we finished, he was the first to leave. He practically ran out the front door." Eli's face each time she saw him was blank with cold indifference.
"What a prick. Forget him." Rachel pulled her hood over her head. "What about Ben?"
Claire sat for a moment, staring at Rachel. Who? "Ben?"
"The hot lawyer."
Claire blinked. She had somehow forgotten about the blind date. "His secretary called and canceled. She said she would call and reschedule this week. Already, red flag."
"Well, it's only Wednesday, right? She'll call."
"Whether or not she'll call wasn't my concern. But having your secretary call to schedule a date?" Claire shook her head. "I'm hoping he will forget because I don't have time right now for any-"
"No, it's perfect. You're super busy, he's super busy. You won't have to put a bunch of time into it." Rachel wrapped her arms around herself.
"It is getting cold isn't it?" Claire looked at the kids as they splashed in a puddle. She hated to call an end to their fun, but they had already been outside for almost an hour. "I'll carry one to the tub, you carry the other?"
"Deal, but I'm carrying Ella because Robbie looks like the mud monster from Scooby Doo."
Claire sat in art class behind a small stand with her piece of pottery from last week's class. But she was not painting, she was checking her bank balance on her phone.
Ella had been talking about a TV show her friends at school watched, but it was on cable. Claire juggled a few bills around on the paper to see if she could order cable, even for a few months. But so far, no luck finding an extra sixty dollars a month. Any extra cash had to be designated to the kitchen; they had been living too long in the disaster it had become.
Lost in her own thoughts, she did not notice Eli walk up and take the seat next to her. When he set a paper cup of coffee in front of her, she looked up.
"Peace offering?" Eli said, sounding unsure.
"Peace offering?" Claire echoed. "Isn't that something you hand out after a fight? Did we get into a fight?"
Eli was quiet and she turned to him. His gray eyes piercing her again, filled her with urge to run to him and run away from him at the same time. How could her body want to run in two different directions?
"Claire, that night-"
Claire's cheeks flamed, but she stood her ground. "That night, it was late and we were both tired." She tucked her hair behind her ear. "I shouldn't have done, whatever that was. I don't have time for... complications."
"Right, good." Eli nodded. He sounded relieved. That was a good thing, right? Claire was not sure. "That's what I wanted to tell you, too. There isn't anything here." He waved his hand back and forth between the two of them. "It's not you, you're great."
"Wow," Claire held up her hand, "do you realize you're giving the 'it's not you, it's me' talk to someone who's just your friend?"
"That's just it." Eli cleared his throat and studied his desk, picking a fleck of black paint off a paintbrush handle. "I don't actually have time for any new friends either."
"Oh." Claire's gut clenched like she had been punched. She wanted to say something else, but her mouth was too dry to talk. She took a tiny sip of the coffee. It tasted like hazelnut. She loved hazelnut.
Stupid peace offering.
The teacher walked to the center of the room and clapped her hands once, signaling the start of class. Claire turned her shoulder to Eli, glad she did not have find something else to say.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Eli was an asshole. He belonged in the same category as Claire's ex-husband. No time for friends.
She blinked, eyes wet, then turned away from him. He wanted to grab her and kiss her. She would feel how a woman should, from the inside out if he got a hold of her.
He could not risk giving Ben a way to threaten him. Eli had nothing going for him except for the brewery, and the legal documentation proving his co-ownership was nowhere in the state.
Except for a select few, as far as everyone was concerned, his true position was only a local rumor. A rumor was nothing. Relationships were public. If anything happened to Claire or her children - even just a threat - he would never forgive himself.
Eli had told Ben he was done and out when his father died. But, Ben still wanted his garage for a business front. All he had to do was show Eli a picture of a woman and her teenage children.
It took Eli a full minute to recognize his mother. She had changed so much; new hair, no glasses and was heavy-set. She smiled, standing in front of a two story house. A white picket fence. A dog in the front yard. It was a far cry from the life his mother had with Eli and his father.
Eli glared at the photograph with contempt. These kids were h
is half-brother and sister. His mother gave up Eli for a new life. A new family.
He wanted to tell Ben he did not care what happened to them. The sentence formed and worked to the tip of his tongue before it became something different. "Okay. I'll do it."
The memories drifted away as Tahlia walked by his desk, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't be afraid of the pottery; you will find its life," she said before she continued on, leaving a trail of patchouli oil scent in her wake.
He moved to smirk and elbow Claire. Make a sarcastic comment. But then he remembered. He was an asshole.
He watched Claire paint from the corner of his eye. She used a thin brush, creating stripes all over her mug. The shapes created a trance of sorts on Eli, pulling him into an empty concentration. Meditation took over as he watched her brush move, so stiff, so awkward in her grasp.
The tip of Claire's tongue stuck out at the corner of her mouth. She concentrated on the teacher's speech about brush strokes, nodding whenever Tahlia made a new point. Eli wanted to grab Claire's hand and press it against the pottery. Tell her to ignore Tahlia. Draw. Paint. Get lost in the moment.
Let go.
Eli imagined his body behind her, one hand on hers moving the paintbrush, the other resting against her stomach. Pulling her tight against his body.
He felt everything. Or, he wanted to feel everything. The solution to get everything? Remove Ben from the equation.
But how?
Saturday night arrived with no solution. If Eli went to the authorities, he would implicate himself and Jones. That was, if anyone listened to him. It was not easy turning in a district attorney, let alone one who was running for mayor.
What could someone like Eli do about someone like Ben?
Nothing.
But, could he really spend his whole life like this? Running from happiness?
Eli wanted Claire. He could see having something with her, even if it was fleeting. But he did not think it was. He saw a life with her in her tiny cabin.
And if it did not work out with Claire? He might fall in love one day. What if he wanted a family? Ben would hang those relationships over his head anytime he needed a little money for a campaign. A legitimate front to run his other operation through.
"Eli," Jack said, suddenly at Eli's side. "Hey man!"
"What?" Eli saw Jack's hands as they flew to the tap in front of him, turning it off. "Shit!"
Beer rolled over the pitcher, collecting in a puddle on the floor.
"I'm sorry," Eli said, setting the pitcher down and grabbing a rag. He squatted to clean up the mess. Spilled craft beer was a bigger financial offense than spilled domestic, even if it was the house special for the night.
"Here you go." Jack handed the full pitcher to the waitress who stood at the counter. He squinted at Eli. "What's going on with you the past few days?"
Eli finished cleaning up the mess, not really sure what he wanted to tell Jack. "School."
"Really? You're having a hard time in your classes?" Jack sounded doubtful.
"Nah, it's not that." Eli surprised himself with how easy he found the schoolwork.
"Claire?"
Eli tossed the washrag in the bin under the counter, before facing Jack. "Molly told you?"
"Yeah, she does this thing where she tells me everything." Jack shook his head. "Every single thing. She says it's what couples do. I love her, I do, but one of the perks of getting married is supposed to be no more relationship drama."
Eli nodded. "You're right."
"No." Jack pulling out a tray, lemons and a knife. "I don't mean your drama. You're family. Nothing I bitch about applies to you."
Eli watched a family walk through the front door. Mother, father and three daughters. "I like Claire. But is it worth jumping in, messing her life up?"
"If you plan on messing her life up, then I would say no." Jack ran the knife through a lemon; juice squirted in the air.
"Molly said, you know, dating Claire, there's responsibility. Cause of the kids. I'm not ready to be a dad."
"Ha! Listen to yourself, you're getting ahead of everything."
"There's more to it than that," Eli said, closing his mouth before he said more. Silence hung thick between them for a minute.
"I'm here, when you're ready." Jack knew Eli had run the garage into the ground on purpose, and that Eli could not officially be on the deed. But he knew little else. He never asked, and Eli never supplied the information.
"It isn't just me. She isn't in a place where she can date someone," Eli said and an odd expression fell over Jack's face. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You made a face."
"What makes you say she doesn't want to date anyone?" Jack said.
"She said so."
Jack finished slicing the lemons and dropped them into the empty plastic container. He slid everything under the counter before leaning against the register and crossing his arms. He nodded, slowly and faintly, looking at the back wall of bottles. "Molly, in the spirit of telling me everything, said Rachel set Claire up on a blind date."
"Ah." A date. He felt a stab of jealousy, but pushed it away. It was his own fault. Eli told Claire he was not good with kids. A guy with a shady past. Rough around the edges. No reason she would want him. But why would she lie, make up a line about complications? To spare his feelings? Eli cleared his throat. "Yeah. I guess there's nothing to think about. She's spoken for."
"Come on man, spoken for? I didn't say they were getting married, I said she had a date. Rachel set her up. It's probably some goober. Rachel's dating record sucks balls." Jack laughed.
"Yeah. Rachel. So um, beer, guns, trucks, dogs," Eli said, using their signal that the conversation was over.
"Yeah, zombies, guts, carburetors, fishing," Jack answered, turning back to the counter.
As though a gate had opened, constant lines formed at the counter the rest of the evening. It was good for profits. It was good for keeping Eli's mind off Claire.
He still needed to figure out what to do about Ben. One day Eli might find a woman who craved him as much as he desired her, and he did not want anything standing in his way.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Claire sat on her couch, adjusting her dress for the hundredth time. Did she really agree to go on a blind date? She had forgot about Ben Tomlin in the month since Rachel set them up but... a first date on Valentine's Day?
Ben called a few evenings earlier, moments after Eli had blown her off in the classroom yet again. Hurt and confused, Claire accepted the date almost eagerly. She wanted to be more than an overscheduled mother for one evening.
Claire glanced at the clock above the TV. Twenty minutes late. Forget a blind date, she was being stood up on Valentine's Day.
Claire touched her hair, checking her curly bun. It had taken thirty minutes to make it appear like she had thrown it together in one twist. With hair so stick straight, it was difficult to get it to do things like a messy curly updo. Rachel sent her the YouTube link, and she battled with her hair like a good girl. She only flipped her laptop screen off once. Okay, twice.
Claire pulled at her dress hem yet again. That was it - too short. She was changing. She stood, just as a car pulled into the driveway. Her stomach did a flip, then flopped itself back into position.
"I guess I'm not changing," she muttered, glancing at her reflection in the TV screen. Not bad; when she was standing.
Claire grabbed the door handle and waited for a knock. Twenty seconds, then thirty. No knock. She peered through the peephole and saw a very attractive man with short dark hair in a gray suit on her porch. He faced the door, talking.
Who is he talking to?
Was he nervous? Talking himself into knocking? Claire grinned. That was sweet. She opened the door.
Ben startled and raised a finger in the just a second position. Claire's mouth dropped.
Okay.
"I don't give a shit," he said. "A deadline is a deadline. Stay in you
r office all weekend for all I care." Ben paused, and Claire noticed the bluetooth ear piece. "Would you like me to remind you about Tuscany?" Ben smiled. "Thank you. Call my secretary if you have any other questions."
Ben tapped his ear, staring at Claire. Unease settled into her as his eyes trailed over her body. A quick assessment, nothing slick about it.
"Claire. Sorry about that. Election is coming up; always on the clock. Do you mind taking a picture of me for Instagram?" He handed Claire his phone. He stepped around her to stand by the front door. "It's just your house looks so damn charming from the outside." He said "from the outside" while he peered in her still open front door. "I'll shut the door and stand right here."
Claire realized Ben meant for her to take a picture of him standing on her porch. She reached the bottom step and automatically started to call out, "Say cheese."
"Do you mind? It's just... the charm is lost unless you can see the entire cabin." Ben adjusted his tie and swiped an imaginary piece of dust off of his shoulder.
Claire stepped into her driveway, searching for the Candid Camera crew. She took a few pictures of Ben and then walked back to him. He scrolled through the photos in silence, selecting one.
"What's your Instagram name? I'll tag you," Ben said, smiling at her.
"I don't have Instagram," Claire mumbled.
Claire kept her hands folded in her lap, inspecting her chipped red nails each time they passed under a lamp. She had meant to throw a fresh coat on them. The polish was a few weeks old, from when she and Ella had a mommy and daughter spa date. Robby drove toy cars up and down their legs while they painted each other's toenails.
Claire sat awkwardly in Ben's car, not wanting to touch anything for fear of getting it dirty. She imagined herself as Pigpen, a cloud of dirt following her. She had been in clean vehicles before; ones without Cheerios in the carpet, crayon marks on the upholstery and half empty juice boxes to avoid. This one was cleaner than the average I don't have small children clean. It also smelled expensive. She was afraid if she touched anything, it would shatter.
