~ ~ ~ ~ ~
And that was how my relationship with Mick began.
Since then, we would see each other at the club a couple nights each week. Mick would sit on a stool at the counter and drink a beer while keeping me company during my short stint behind the desk. Or, we would spend time in the pub playing cards and having a good time with my friends.
Samantha and Larry were delighted Mick and I were seeing each other, and they gave me a thumbs up on the relationship. After a few Saturday night dates, we began spending all day together on Saturdays. He still made my knees weak, my heart flutter, and I still melted whenever he looked at me with those gorgeous eyes.
Our relationship hadn’t progressed to the bedroom. I think he sensed my hesitation to go too fast, and at times, I was surprised by his own restraint. His kisses were passionate, yet tender, and they set my body on fire. It was hard not to succumb and give in to the urges. When he held my hand, touched my face, brushed my arm with his fingertips … I knew it was only a matter of time before there would be no turning back.
Until today!
A wife? How could I have not seen this? Is that why he was never available on a Friday or a Sunday? Did he have children? What else was he keeping from me? I was heartsick. If I weren’t so angry, I would be crying.
The carport was behind my apartment building. I drove around back and saw Mick’s BMW still parked in visitor parking. Was he still on the phone with his wife, or was he waiting for me to come back?
I pulled into my spot, turned off the ignition, and didn’t move. I didn’t want to leave the safety and comfort of the Chevelle. I loved the bolero red car. After Dad retired, he and his best friend, Harold, began restoring muscle cars in Harold’s garage. Dad had originally restored this one for himself but gave the car to me as a gift when he and my mother moved to Texas a little over a year ago.
I looked over at Mick’s car. I contemplated keying it but grabbed my groceries and went into the building.
It was quiet for a Saturday. There were a few muffled sounds here and there from televisions or radios. I was fortunate to live in a building populated mostly by the fifty and over crowd. It made for peaceful living. There was never loud music or late night parties to disturb anyone.
The grocery bag wasn’t heavy, but I trudged up the stairs. My usual pace was to run up them, or even to take them two at a time. I viewed the stairs as bonus training for racquetball, but right now, every step felt as though I were wearing ankle weights. I hated that I felt betrayed in my own apartment, a place where I was always happy.
As I stepped onto the third floor landing, my neighbor across the hall was just coming out of his apartment.
“Hey, Susan, what’s up?” he asked. “Did I see Mick with you earlier?”
Darby was the only other single person in our building, and although we had never dated, we enjoyed each other’s company. He liked my Reuben sandwiches, and I was all too happy to make them for us when we got together to watch anything on Food Network and talk about our day. Mick and I ran into Darby often, and I knew Darby was growing fond of him. For that matter, everyone was fond of Mick. He was so darned charming.
“Yes, he’s here,” I whispered. “I can’t talk about it now. Call me later. I’m so mad. I just found out he’s married. I haven’t even talked to him about it yet. I want to kill him! How could he have kept this from me? Did you have any idea?”
“No,” he said, looking shocked. He was whispering now, too. “I had no idea. I’ve never talked to him without you being there, too. How’d you find out?”
I stepped to my door but looked back at him and said, “His wife called here for him. Can you believe that? I’m going to see what he has to say, and then I’m going to kill him.”
“Take a deep breath and calm down,” he said. “I’ll call you tonight. Or, I can come over. I just bought a bottle of Jack we can open.”
“Thanks,” I said with a sigh. “But just give me a call. I already have a headache, and the whiskey won’t help.”
I held my breath as I opened the door. Mick stood from the sofa, but he didn’t say anything. Was he waiting to gauge my reaction? If so, I didn’t want to give him one. I put the grocery bag on the dining room table and started to put the few groceries away.
“Susan,” he finally said. “You didn’t have to leave. Please let me explain.”
I turned and walked toward him. I could never hide my emotions, and I was sure both anger and my broken heart were evident on my face.
“How could you not tell me you were married? How long were you going to let us go on? When were you going to tell me? Were you ever going to tell me?” I knew my voice had become a screech.
This suddenly felt like Louie all over again. A betrayal and a lie, only this time, Mick and I hadn’t done anything – yet. I could feel the tears beginning to well up in my eyes. I clenched my fists and punched his chest while pushing him back. He grabbed my arms.
“Susan, please. Let me explain. I know you’re mad. You have a right to be. Sit down and listen for a minute, and then I’ll go.”
I didn’t want to sit down. I wanted to throw something at him. I stepped back and fought the tears. A wave of intense sadness washed over me as I realized this was going to be over.
“Just listen,” he pleaded. He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts before saying, “My wife’s name is Jenny, and we’ve been separated for six months. We’re getting a divorce, and our attorneys are finalizing everything right now. The divorce was started before I ever met you, and it would have been over with by now, but Jenny has family property in New York and there were some legal issues to be worked out.”
I sat down hard on the sofa. I wanted to continue to yell, but I didn’t have any steam left. I had questions, but my head was pounding, so I sat silent.
Mick went on. “I wanted to tell you, but I knew everything would be finalized soon, and I thought it would be easier to tell you afterward. I had no idea Jenny would ever find out about us. I have no idea how she got your phone number, and she didn’t want anything more today than to let me know she knew where I was. She doesn’t even care.”
I had to ask one question. “Do you have any children?”
He hung his head for a moment. He looked at me with pain in those beautiful eyes that were no longer smiling. He knew this lie of omission was going to hurt me as well. “Yes. I have a fourteen-year-old son.”
I moved to the door and opened it. I couldn’t look at him. With my head down, I whispered, “Get out.”
Sunshine Hunter Page 4
