Midlife Crisis_another romance for the over 40

by L. B. Dunbar

  [Midge]

  Spent, Hank pulls out of me, using his disposed towel to wipe us off. Then he flips to his back, tugging me to his chest. I’m draped over him until he shifts, rolling me onto my back and lowering himself so his head falls to my breasts. His arms rest along my sides. My fingers comb through his hair, stroking over his head, scratching lightly. The tension releases from him, and his weight grows heavier.

  My thoughts, however, weight the heaviest. I can’t possibly sleep although I’m drained from the evening and slightly edgy from the lack of orgasm.

  How would it be to find out you are a father to an adult child with special needs? It’s hard enough to prepare yourself for an infant when you are young, but then to layer on all the additions in Hank’s case. I can’t imagine what he thinks or what he feels. The lies Kit told him. The truth he should have fought to seek. This is beyond my comprehension. It’s another reminder I’m not part of Hank’s world. The rock star life is a mystery to me. One I never pondered or sought. I like music well enough, but I don’t think about it further than my interpretation of a song. There’s a person behind the meaning—a human with a life, who lives with his own demons and dreams. Just like anybody else. Though, Hank’s story seems extreme.

  Almost twenty years in an emotionally abusive relationship—that’s what he’s lived. One where his heart ruled his dick. He couldn’t see how unhealthy she was for him, though his other addictions might have also clouded his decisions. The rock star world, I think, but want to dismiss the casual thought. It’s unfair to Hank who appears to have a big, generous heart. He’s been taken advantage of because of it.

  I continue to stroke his head, letting his weight melt over me. I could love this man completely, but he has a difficult journey ahead of him, and there’s one area where I can’t compete. Hank shifts, and I twist to find a bedside clock. I need to get home. Rolling opposite Hank, I reach for my clothes, yet something pinches inside me. He didn’t hurt me. I hate to admit I liked the roughness. It’s only I wish the intensity was for me.

  “Where you going, little lady?” he mutters, his voice groggy with sleep. I finish slipping my dress over my head. It’s casual and carefree as I didn’t know where my mystery date was going to lead.

  “I need to get home. It’s a school night for the boys.” I stand, straightening everything. Laying on his back, he wipes a hand down his face.

  “Don’t leave,” he whispers, but I have to go. His eyes plead, but it’s not me he’s looking at.

  “Hank.” I exhale as I take a seat on the edge of his bed. Reaching for his hand, I wrap my fingers over his. “I like having sex with you. Like it a lot,” I tease without humor.

  “I like having sex with you, too, little lady.” His smile grows, but the sparkle to his steel-colored eyes remains missing.

  “But it’s turning into more for me.”

  “Midge—”

  “And Lawson needs to be the more in your life. You need to be all in with him. A child. A son. Wow, Hank, he should be your number one priority.”

  “He will be.”

  “That’s how it should be for a parent. You’ll do everything for him. I know you will.” Hank stares at me, his forehead furrowing in question. “It will take time, but he’ll understand who you are. Who you were meant to be.”

  “Midge?”

  “I know it’s late...all these years. It must be a shock to find out he really is yours, but you’ll be great for him. You’ll be just what he needs.” A tear slips from my eye, and I’m not certain if I’m trying to convince him or me. Hank needs to step up to this discovery.

  Perching up on an elbow, he grips my fingers tighter within his and says, “I plan to do everything I can. I have a lot to learn, but I’ll get there. I have to.”

  “I know you will,” I repeat. “You’re a good man, Hank Paige.”

  “What are you not saying, little lady?” His voice deepens as he swallows.

  “I can’t compete.”

  “You aren’t competing with my son.”

  “No, I’m competing with a ghost.” His eyes widen, and I continue before he can speak. “I understand loving someone else first. I was married for fifteen years. I thought Paul was my everything, but divorcing is different. It’s a choice; whether both parties agree or not, it ends with a choice.”

  “Midge,” he warns with his tone, but I plow on.

  “Death isn’t a choice. As much as you prepare for it, someone is taken from you before their time, before your time. You loved her, Hank, and I understand that. I do. But I can’t fight her memory.”

  “You aren’t,” he says, his voice weak.

  “I am. Lawson will be a constant reminder of her. God forgive me for speaking ill of the dead, but she lied to you. She wasn’t good to you, honey, and you deserve someone who will be. You deserve to be somebody’s someone.” I take a deep breath, swallowing as I blink back the tears. “But so do I. With this new discovery, you aren’t ready for me. Lawson is another notch in the struggle of your love for Kit. Beautiful, famous, lying Kit. And I’m not her.” My voice squeaks with bitterness I feel toward a woman I’ve never met, who destroyed the heart of this man, and continues to do so from the grave. “Your life is a love song, only I’m singing the wrong lyrics.”

  I draw his fingers up to my lips, kissing his warm skin. His scent lingers. Manly. Woodsy. I stand before more tears fall. A crying woman is the last thing this man needs.

  “I don’t want you to go,” he admits, and it almost breaks me. I want to crawl back into his bed and hold him, but I have my own responsibilities. Three of them. Waiting for me at home. Not to mention, my heart can’t take anymore.

  “I don’t want to leave, but I already called an Uber,” I lie.

  He sits up and reaches for me, calling out, “Kit.”

  And that’s my cue to go.

  “Fuck…Midge,” follows me out the bedroom door. I skip down the stairs to find Chopper sitting in the living room.

  “Midge?” His eyes widen in surprise.

  “Could you give me a ride?” My voice shakes as I ask, tears running down my cheeks. “I want to go home.”

  28

  Advice from all over

  [Hank]

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. I slap a palm on the mattress as I hear Chopper’s car roar to life. Sitting up and reaching for my boxers, I race to the first floor to see headlights swing out of the driveway.

  “Was that Midge I heard?” Brut says behind me.

  “Fuck,” I yell, hands fisting my short hair. I can’t believe I called her Kit. It just slipped out.

  “What happened?”

  “I’m an idiot,” I huff, spinning to face my brother standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He’s eating a cupcake, but I don’t have time to question where he got it.

  “Whatcha do now?”

  “I…” I step around the couch and fall onto the cushions. “I called her Kit.”

  “You what?” Brut bellows, then points the partially eaten cupcake at me. His voice rises an octave. “During sex?”

  “How do you know I had sex with her?” Brut’s eyes roam to my boxers. Sitting forward, I cover my face, swearing into my hands.

  “What happened?” my brother repeats, taking a seat on the chair opposite me.

  “I took her to meet Lawson. It didn’t go like I thought.” I scrub both hands down my face before brushing over my head, holding my neck.

  “Told you to tell her,” Brut mocks with a mouthful of cake, icing sticking to his lips.

  “She had the interview. It was more important for her.” My thought process was all her, despite finding out a few days ago about Lawson. Brut shakes his head, wiping at his lip.

  “She broke up with me.” The thought startles me. Did she break up with me?

  “What is it with you and women?” He snorts as if he’s some expert.

  “She’s different.” Like a teenager, he rolls his eyes.

  “She has a nice personality,” he
singsongs before taking another bite of his dessert.

  “Fine. She smells nice, and her skin is so soft. She’s like that cupcake, melting on my tongue, and yes, she is nice. She’s sweet, caring. I know I’m her first for a few things. The passion she’s willing to display with me.” I pause, inhaling, recalling upstairs. “And you should have seen her with Lawson. I’m standing there, trying to take it all in, and she gets down in front of him to greet him. And her boys. Her boys are her world. They’re good kids, and she’s making sure they’ll be good men despite her cheating ex-husband. And she likes me. I know she does. She isn’t Kit—”

  “Then why did you call her Kit?”

  “We were disagreeing…about Kit. It just came out.”

  “Sounds like it should have stayed in,” Brut corrects.

  “She says she’s fighting a ghost.” Brut raises his brow in question. “She’s not.” My voice falters. My heart knows there is no comparison, but my head got in the fucking way again. Calling her Kit. I smack my forehead. What a fucking idiot?

  “I warned you about this shit,” Brut admonishes. He sighs, falling back in his seat, then adds, “Quite a pair, aren’t we? Both have our heads up our asses.”

  “Admitting something about Lily?” I watch Brut crumple the cupcake wrapper in his fist.

  “Lily and I are a dead issue. Twenty-one years dead.”

  “Yeah, well, it took me twenty years to feel alive, Brut. I’m forty-three. I’d say there is still time for you, too.”

  I stand, leaving Brut with his empty wrapper, and head to my room for pants. Minutes later, I find myself outside, staring at the cloth in the back of the garage. The tarp covers every inch, but the outline gives away the instrument. My fingers twitch inside my pockets. It’s been a long time, my old friend. The cement floor is cold under my bare feet. I’m numb again, staring at the set that gave me a dream for a little while.

  “Don’t do it,” Chopper says from behind me. I don’t flinch although I didn’t hear him return.

  “Don’t do what?” My voice chokes.

  “Instead of thinking about crushing it, why don’t you play it?” I stare at the covered kit. At one time, sticks were a part of me, an extension of my arms. Then the music died, and I stopped.

  “What do you know?” I snark, turning to look at my nephew. He’s the spitting image of Brut at that age.

  “I know I just drove home a lady who silently cried in the seat next to me the whole way. Whatever you did, she wasn’t angry. That woman is sad.” He emphasizes the emotion.

  “Angry?” I snap. “Why would she be angry? She just broke up with me.”

  “The woman I drove home was not a woman who broke up with someone, Uncle Hank. She was heartbroken.” Chopper stares at me with the only part not matching my brother—the eyes of his mother.

  “What do you know about heartbreak?” I chuckle without humor.

  Chopper scoffs back. “I’m twenty-one. I know plenty.”

  “Yeah, so worldly.” I snort.

  “You need a grand gesture.” He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “Something big. Something that shows you’re serious about her, about you two together.” I blink at my nephew.

  “Like asking her to marry me?” I exhale. In a drunken stupor, she said she’d say yes, but I recall too well the poor decisions made under the influence of alcohol.

  “If that’s what it takes to win her back. But from her tears, I’d say she needs something more than a proposal. Midge doesn’t need a husband. She needs a man.”

  “How do you know these things?” I huff, rubbing a hand over my bare chest where I’ve developed a sharp ache.

  He taps his heart. “Told you, I know plenty.”

  29

  A grand gesture that isn’t big enough

  [Midge]

  “I don’t know what to do,” I say into the phone, cupping my forehead in my hand. It’s Monday morning, and I sit at the reception desk. I don’t want to be here, but I don’t have a choice after not landing Pendelton. After five text messages and three missed calls, I decide to respond to Edie.

  “Since I quit my job and hoped to get a new one before my last paycheck ran out, I’m not certain what to do next.” I breathe heavily. “Sweet cheese, I never should have quit. Maybe I should call Katrina and beg her to take me back.” I cover my eyes, swollen and dry, the tears finally at rest. My heart literally aches, my chest burning. I didn’t bother with make-up to hide my pain. I wear my glasses instead.

  “You can’t go back.” Edie’s tone holds firm. “You won’t go back. This is a sign. Brut said you could stay for as long as you need, right?”

  “But I don’t want to take advantage of him, and the pay isn’t enough. I already weaseled my way into this position in order to get the Pendelton pitch.” Brut has been very kind, saying he feels responsible for Pendelton dicking me over even though it wasn’t his fault. After speaking with him first thing this morning, I called my ex.

  “I also had the pleasure of telling Paul I might need help from him to make my cut of the tuition payments.” Sarcasm drips from my voice. Cowering to my ex-husband and asking him to step up was the last thing I needed after last night, but it was time to tear off all the Band-Aids. Paul needed to know my new financial position.

  “How did that go?”

  “Not well. After all we’d been through, I thought he could give me this time to figure myself out, considering he used time during our marriage to do the same for himself. He didn’t quite agree, especially with his upcoming wedding.”

  “Fuck exes,” Edie huffs. “Well, you have a job at Restored Dreams for now while you look for something else. Just take one day at a time.”

  “I know, but I shouldn’t stay here. Things are…complicated.” Hank and I have been a whirlwind from the moment we met in Edie’s bathroom, like high winds circling around one another, getting caught up in a storm of great sex. That’s all we were, right? I choke on thought. Tears prickle my eyes again, but I will them back. I don’t want to shed another tear for a man who doesn’t want me. Kit. Her name rings through my ears on repeat. My nose burns and I worry unwanted tears will follow. I’m so stupid.

  “Is it Lawson?”

  “No.” I sigh. “No, it’s not his son.” It’s the woman he produced said son with. A female rock star phenomena with a big secret and a cold heart.

  “When I first learned of Lawson, it was a bit of a shock. I mean, who keeps such a secret. The place is like a morgue—a sterile memorial to Kit. But it’s what Tommy thinks is best for his nephew,” Edie reiterates, and I’m reminded Hank hadn’t prepped me in any way for the surprise of learning he had a child with the love of his life. I’ll add it to the list of things I’m upset over at the moment.

  “What does Ivy say? He’s her brother.”

  “Tommy’s his legal guardian; however, Ivy has become more vocal. She’s found a new passion with the birth of the therapy school. She doesn’t think Lawson should be a secret, but Tommy disagrees. He doesn’t want Kit’s name dragged through the mud from the grave. He wants people to keep their fond memories of her and not criticize her in memoriam.”

  “Does that even make sense? What about those closest to her? Forget fans. What about family? Why didn’t they all know, and why can’t they share in Lawson’s life with him?” My concern momentarily returns to a secluded man with special needs, closed off from society, but more importantly, shut away from other human beings related to him.

  “Honestly, I know what you’re saying. It’s the one area where Tommy and I disagree. He’s stubborn when he wants to be.” She snorts. “Lawson is Ivy’s brother. She does the best she can to include him in her family, but I know she wants more. And I’m not certain the best place for Lawson is locked in his mother’s house. Thank goodness for the day school for therapy and the round-the-clock aides.”

  We pause, each with our own thoughts.

/>   “How is Hank doing with all of this?” Edie hesitates, and the question stops my heart. I shouldn’t have left like I did. I’m guilty—like Kit, in some ways—of running away from him. Then again, he called me her. I’ve moved from tears to anger. I was there for him, willing to give him whatever he needed and even give him up so he can concentrate on this new discovery. Calling me his ex-lover’s name proves our hearts were not in the same place.

  “Hank has a lot on his mind right now,” I surprisingly defend. “But that’s the way it should be, right? Lawson will be a big responsibility.” I scrub at my forehead, wanting to believe what I suggest.

  “Midge, honey, Lawson is Tommy’s responsibility. Hank can’t just step in.” She stops. “Unless he’s planning something extreme. Some kind of custody battle or—”

  “No, no, I don’t think he’ll do that. He just wants to get to know his son and learn what he can to be a part of his life, but he wouldn’t take those measures.” At least, I don’t think he will. I feel as if I no longer know him.

  “Tommy’s so happy to see someone like you in Hank’s life. You’re so good for him.”

  I don’t have a response for her. Instead, I close my eyes again, choking back the lump in my throat. I walked away from him. How is that good for him? But I had to protect me. My heart cannot take another crack. Hank means more to me than hot sex. I thought we…I pause. It doesn’t seem to matter what I thought. We are moving in separate circles; one where I believed we were connecting, but I’m clearly outside the ring.

  I look over at the wilting flowers on the corner of my desk. I assume he bought them, thinking I would get the job with Pendelton. The champagne-themed cupcake sits in the refrigerator with a congratulations ribbon wrapped over the cellophane packaging. I blink a few times at the thoughtfulness. He’s sweet, just not enough on me.

  “Midge?” The concern in Edie’s tone breaks through my thoughts.

  “I should probably let you go. I have work to do here and I need to find something else.” The statement tastes bitter. I have nothing against being in this garage. In fact, I’m less stressed here than my previous employment, and the change has been rather nice. I go home at a set time and no work follows me. However, I need more income than Brut pays me.