Cement Heart

by Beth Ehemann

  I laughed as I set the bags on the kitchen table. “Really? For lasagna?”

  “I love lasagna!” She licked her lips and sighed happily.

  “Me too. It’s one of my favorites.” I started pulling things out of the bags. “I also got the stuff for an awesome salad, garlic bread, and a bottle of cabernet sauvignon.” Turning back to face her, I pulled my brows in tight. “Do you drink wine?”

  “Not often, but yes. Tonight, yes.” She nodded excitedly. “What can I help with?” She grabbed one of the other bags and started pulling things out. “Holy cow, this is a lot of stuff.”

  I sensed the intimidation in her voice. “Don’t worry, it’s not a tough recipe. I promise.”

  “Okay,” she sighed. “But if it sucks, I’m blaming you.” She winked at me and started moving the ingredients to the island.

  Once everything was out of the bags and set up, it was time to start.

  “Okay.” She clapped loudly and put her hands on her hips, swaying back and forth as she eyed the stuff on the island. “What do we do first?”

  “First, you relax.” I smiled. “You’re not gonna wrestle it, you’re gonna cook it.”

  “Sorry.” She laughed. “I’m a little pumped.”

  “I can tell.” I motioned toward her apron.

  She looked down at herself and back up at me. “What? You don’t like my apron?”

  “Oh, it’s fantastic,” I teased sarcastically as she frowned at me. “Let’s get moving or we’re gonna be ordering pizza again.” I piled up the ground beef, Italian sausage, onion, and garlic. “Why don’t you start browning those?”

  “Okay.” She nodded, then shifted her eyes up to mine. She looked tiny and innocent and adorable. “Um… how do I do that?”

  “How do you brown something?” I repeated back to her, positive I’d heard her question wrong.

  She bit her lip and nodded.

  “Whoa. Okay, let’s start with the basics. Where are your pots and pans?”

  “Ugh. This is so embarrassing.” She covered her face with one hand and pointed to the cabinet behind me with the other.

  I opened the cabinet and pulled out a frying pan that had clearly never been used.

  Trying hard to contain my shock, I held it up and looked at her. “Is this brand new?”

  Still hiding her face behind her hands, she nodded.

  I reached out and moved her hands from her face. Her cheeks were as pink as her apron and she looked down at the ground, avoiding my eyes.

  “How long have you had these?” I asked as I lifted her chin to face me.

  “That’s not important,” she snapped playfully as she grabbed the pan from me and put it on the stove. “Teach me how to brown this stuff.”

  She turned to face the stove and my eyes moved slowly from the top of her head, down her neck, then down to her collarbone. I swallowed hard and forced myself to look away.

  Get your shit together, Viper. You’re teaching her to cook dinner and then you’re leaving.

  “Okay.” I cleared my throat. “Open the meat and drop it in the pan, turning the heat between medium and high.”

  Michelle’s movements were very slow and very graceful as she did everything I said, just the way I said to. Every time I gave her instructions on something, her tongue stuck out just a bit as she concentrated.

  We worked together in the kitchen like a well-oiled machine, and before long, dinner was ready.

  Maura woke up from her nap just in time to eat. While Michelle went up to get her, Matthew and I set the table. I moved the tray of lasagna over to the table and poured two glasses of wine while Michelle buckled Maura into her highchair. Matthew sat in his seat, Michelle sat in her seat, and I pulled the chair out at the end of the table.

  “That’s daddy’s seat,” Matthew said innocently, staring up at me.

  Michelle gasped quietly and covered her hand with her mouth, turning away from him.

  “You know what, buddy? You’re right. That’s your dad’s seat and I don’t want to take it. Can I sit in this one next to you instead?” I moved over to the chair next to him as he nodded eagerly.

  I looked up at Michelle, who had tears in her eyes, and winked at her. “It’s okay,” I mouthed.

  She nodded, but I knew she was rattled.

  I cut the lasagna and scooped squares onto everyone’s plates as Michelle cut a section into microscopic pieces for Maura, who was squealing for food.

  “At least we have one fan so far.” I nodded toward Maura.

  Michelle scraped pieces of the lasagna off of her plate and onto Maura’s tray as she laughed. “Well, she eats dirt off the floor and chews on shoes, so don’t get too excited.”

  Dinner was fantastic. Matthew had not one but two huge pieces of lasagna and ate the salad like he thought someone was going to take it away from him.

  “I’ve never seen him eat this good—ever,” Michelle whispered as he kept shoveling it in.

  “Good.” I nodded. “What do you think?”

  “I think if we continue these lessons, I’m gonna have to start going to the gym.” She giggled.

  I scooped up another piece of lasagna and without thinking, said, “Oh, please. You have the most perfect body I’ve ever seen.”

  Her eyes flashed up to me for a quick second and I cringed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I mean, it’s true, but I shouldn’t have said it. I’m gonna stop talking now.” I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead, suddenly wishing I were anywhere else.

  “It’s okay,” she said softly. “I appreciate it. I don’t get too many compliments hanging around here all day. It was nice to hear, actually.”

  Thankfully, we finished dinner without any other fuckups from me. Michelle wiped down Maura’s face and put her in the playpen in the family room while Matthew took off down the hall toward his playroom. She took a plastic container out of the cabinet and started scooping the leftover lasagna into it. I was stacking the dirty dishes on the counter when a few dots of something hit the side of my face. I wiped it off with the back of my hand and stared down at it. Sauce.

  Michelle’s eyes were huge as she covered her mouth with her hands, stifling a laugh. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled from behind them. “I was scooping the lasagna into the container and the spoon caught the edge and when it flicked, sauce went everywhere.”

  “No problem.” I shrugged, grinning innocently at her. As soon as she turned back toward what she was doing, I picked up the wooden spoon, which also had sauce on it, and flung it her way. Drops of tomato sauce peppered her hair and the side of her face as she gasped.

  With her mouth hanging open, she spun to face me. “Mine was an accident!” She reached into the salad bowl and grabbed a handful of lettuce, launching it in my direction. Using one of the extra plates on the counter as a shield, I grabbed a handful of the mushrooms we didn’t use and threw them at her, laughing hard as they bounced off of her head.

  “That’s it!” she growled as she took the spoon out of the bowl and snapped it toward me again. Huge globs of sauce splattered all over the cabinets, the counter, and me.

  It. Was. On.

  I took a huge spoonful of sauce out of the pan and launched it at her. She ducked behind the island for most of it, but one big blob landed on the top of her head.

  “Okay, okay!” Both of her hands stuck up from behind the island. “Truce! You win. I concede.”

  “Deal.” I set the bowl down with a smug grin on my face.

  She stood up slowly and I couldn’t contain my laugh. Her whole front—her face, her shirt, and her pink apron—was dotted with red sauce and the big blob that had landed on her head was now dripping off loose flyaway pieces of her hair from her ponytail.

  “We’re not gonna do that every time, right?” she pouted playfully as she walked over, grabbing a dish towel off the counter. I had the sudden urge to pull her to me and lick the sauce off that pout, but I blinked hard to force the thought out of my mind.

&
nbsp; “Hey, you started it,” I teased, bumping her with my elbow as I wiped my hands on another towel.

  “Yeah, but I also got the worst of it,” she whined, turning to face me.

  She wasn’t kidding. Little spots of sauce were on her forehead, cheeks, even in her eyebrows.

  I reached out and gently swiped at a tiny dot on the end of her nose as she blinked up at me. “That’ll teach you not to start something you can’t finish.”

  As her blue eyes bore into mine, something shifted between us. I had no idea what the fuck it was, but I couldn’t look away if I wanted to, which I didn’t. As we stood there and stared at each other, not talking, that familiar feeling of guilt tugged at my heart again. But it wasn’t the guilt from hurting Mike; it was different. I liked this. I liked being in the kitchen with her. I liked being with her, period.

  “Momma!” Matthew called out from down the hall. “My movie is over. Can you get the Legos down for me?”

  Michelle blinked and looked away, wiping her face with the dish towel before leaving the kitchen.

  Fuck. Leave the house now.

  I turned toward the sink and gripped the edge of the counter.

  “Calm the fuck down,” I said to myself quietly. “It was just a food fight.”

  Yeah? Then why is your heart racing, asshole?

  While Michelle was down the hall with Matthew, my phone beeped. I frowned at the screen, not recognizing the number. I hit the button anyway and opened it.

  Hey, Viper! It’s Anna… Portland. Listen, I can’t stop thinking about the other night and how sweet you were when you were in here with the kids. I’m off tonight and was wondering if you were free? Let me know! XOXO

  I stared down at that message for about ten seconds and deleted it.

  “Ahhh, Legos to the rescue,” Michelle joked as she came back into the kitchen. She noticed my phone in my hand and motioned toward it. “Who’s that? Do you need to go?”

  “Nope. No one important.” I set my phone down on the counter and turned back to Michelle. “Let me help you clean up this mess before the sauce dries onto your cabinets.”

  THE MORNING AFTER Lasagnagate 2015, I sat at the kitchen table, zoning out while Maura and Matthew slept in. Technically, they weren’t sleeping in, but I was up earlier than normal. I hadn’t slept much the night before, not in a while, actually.

  I stared out into the backyard, replaying the night before over and over in my head. The way Viper’s arms had flexed when he stirred the onions and mushrooms in the pan. The way he’d smelled when he leaned in close and put those same arms around me to show me how to layer the noodles just perfectly. The playful grin on his face as he’d flicked red sauce all over me. The way he’d looked at me when he wiped the sauce off the end of my nose. All those memories made the butterflies in my stomach, which were still there from last night, wake up and start fluttering again.

  We’d had a moment. A definite moment where I’d stared up at him, begging for something, but I wasn’t sure if it was for him to kiss me or leave and never come back.

  My phone beeped, and it scared me so bad I nearly fell out of my chair.

  My daily Viper text.

  V: Good morning.

  I took a deep breath, silently begging the butterflies to not only calm down, but to go away altogether. This couldn’t happen. We couldn’t happen.

  Good morning.

  V: I would ask if you needed anything, but I’m about to board a plane for a three day road trip, so if you needed anything, I wouldn’t be much help anyway. I still wanted to say hi though.

  His words made me smile.

  I’m good anyway. Don’t need anything, but thank you. Good luck on the road.

  He didn’t text back again, but I was sure he wanted to; and I know he wanted to because I wanted him to. Every time we were together, this pull between us got stronger and stronger, but neither of us was willing to acknowledge it, and that’s the way it needed to stay. For Mike.

  I took a deep breath and puffed my cheeks out, determined to get out of the house and do something fun with Matthew and Maura. We’d spent enough time cooped up in the house as depressed balls of nothingness. I quickly packed up lunches and a bag for the day and woke my babies, ready to go have some fun. Ready to show them a momma who could handle anything life threw at her.

  HOURS LATER, I pulled onto my street and hit the garage button on my visor. I turned into the driveway, startling Jodi, who was stepping off of my porch. She waved at me and crossed her arms, walking over to my van.

  “Hey, you,” I said as I opened the van door, gently lifting a sleeping Maura out of her car seat while Matthew hopped out on his own.

  “Hi. Where have you guys been all day? I’ve knocked like three times.” She reached over, took my bag from me, and threw it over her shoulder.

  “Thanks.” I hit the button to close the van and scrambled to find my house key on the ring. “First, we went to the petting zoo, and Matthew fed a goat while Maura ate the goat food off the ground.”

  “Gross.”

  “Then we went out to lunch at this place Viper took Matthew, and I spent the whole time pulling whole peanuts out of Maura’s mouth.” I laughed, finally getting the door open. “Needless to say, I’m ready for a glass of wine. Wanna join me?”

  “Yes, please,” Jodi answered eagerly.

  I put Maura in her bed and put SpongeBob SquarePants on for Matthew before pouring two very large glasses of wine for Jodi and me.

  “Look at you today.” She shook her head. “You’re supermom.”

  “Ah.” I waved her off. “I’m just trying to be a regular mom, Jodi. I’ve spent the last several months since Mike died sitting around here feeling sorry for myself, when I should’ve been thankful I had nine years with him at all.”

  “Wow. Just when I think you can’t impress me any more, girl, that’s exactly what you do.” She held her wine glass up for me to clink.

  We touched glasses and I took a big long drink.

  “Oh! I almost forgot…” She set her glass down and jumped off the chair, pulling a small silver envelope out of her back pocket. “This is for you.”

  I looked down at the shimmery envelope.

  Mrs. Michelle Asher and Guest

  I dropped the envelope into my lap and rolled my eyes dramatically at her. “Is this what I think it is?”

  “If you’re thinking it’s a wedding invitation, then yes.” She gave me a thumbs-up as she took another sip of wine.

  “I love you, but you’re a bitch. Don’t make me do this.”

  Jodi frowned at me. “What do you mean? Weddings are fun.”

  “You would know. You’ve thrown enough of them,” I teased, glaring down at the invitation again. “I’ve barely left my house for six months and before that, I hated social situations as it was. Weddings are so not my thing.”

  “Well, next month, they’re going to be your thing at least once.”

  “What if I RSVP no?” I laughed.

  Jodi winked at me. “Then I egg your house.”

  I looked up at the sky and tilted my head back and forth like I was considering it as she kicked me under the table. “Ow!” I yelled out, rubbing my leg. “Fine, I’ll be there.”

  “What about your plus one?” she asked slowly, avoiding eye contact with me.

  “What about it? No. It’ll just be me,” I said sternly. “And do not even think about trying to set me up with one of Vince’s stupid friends, got it?”

  “Mmhmm.” She nodded, grinning at me unconvincingly.

  After Jodi left, I gave both the kids baths at the same time in the same tub because let’s face it, the petting zoo wore me out more than them. I sang a little bit to Maura before curling up in my bed with Matthew to read a few books.

  We were on our fourth Clifford the Big Red Dog book when my phone beeped on my nightstand.

  It was a text from Viper.

  V: Hey. I know I don’t normally text at night, but I’m in the hotel room and b
ored, so I thought I’d say hi again and see how your day went.

  “Matthew, lean in close to me. Let’s send a picture to Viper, okay?”

  “Can we make silly faces?”

  “Good idea!”

  He lay down next to me and we squished our cheeks together, crossing our eyes and sticking our tongues out as I snapped the picture.

  “Too bright,” Matthew complained, rubbing his eyes.

  “I know, buddy. Sorry.” I hit the button on my phone and sent the picture to Viper as my response to his text.

  My phone beeped while we were reading the rest of the book, but I left it until we were done. I desperately wanted to know what he said back, but I didn’t want to ditch Matthew for my phone. Once we got to the end of the book, Matthew sighed. “Can I sleep in here, Mom?”

  Matthew had asked to sleep with me several times since Mike died, but I’d been hesitant about starting that habit simply because we both slept better apart. That night, though, it sounded fantastic.

  “Yes, you can. I’d love it, actually. We can be snuggle buddies all night long.”

  He grinned at me and leaned over, kissing the tip of my nose. “You’re the best mom in the whole wide world.”

  My eyes watered. “Thanks, buddy. It’s pretty easy to be a good mom with a good son like you.”

  He lifted his arm, I thought to give me a hug, but he handed me the remote instead. “Can you put on Ninja Turtles for me?”

  I laughed out loud as I took the remote from him and put his show on.

  Suddenly I remembered my phone under my pillow. I pulled it out as fast as I could.

  V: I miss those faces… a lot.

  Six words. Six words were all it took and those damn butterflies sprang into action again, bumping into each other as they swirled around in my belly. I also didn’t know how to respond. Was it appropriate to tell your dead husband’s best friend that you missed him too?