by Amber Kelly
It’s like my words flip a switch. He lets out a growl and grabs my hips. Then, he pulls out and buries himself back inside me. I rise on my toes to meet his thrusts as his rhythm quickens. I know my body is climbing, and I want more. More of his mouth on me, more of his skin against mine, just more of him.
My legs start to shake uncontrollably as I come undone. I can tell he’s holding on by a thread as my body ignites and I begin to spasm around him. He closes his eyes, and his head flies back as he pumps his release inside of me.
Once we both come down, he brings his eyes to mine in the mirror. Still inside of me, he leans in and kisses the spot where he bit me tenderly before he slides out.
“Don’t move,” he whispers against my skin.
He disappears into the bathroom and returns a moment later with a large towel that he uses to dry my back. I turn, and he wraps it around my shoulders.
Suddenly, he lifts me in his arms without saying a word and walks me to the bed and lays me down. He covers me with the soft comforter and tucks me in, and then he lies down beside me and snuggles close.
I fall asleep, wrapped in his strong arms, and it’s the best sleep I’ve had in a long time.
Taeli
I walk into the house, trying to be as quiet as possible. Sara-Beth’s car is in the drive, and I don’t want to face her and Mom and their questions about my sleepover with her son.
I tiptoe to the stairs when I hear the sound of music and high-pitched squealing coming from the back deck. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I follow the beat.
I find them on the screened porch, prancing around in leg warmers and headbands.
“Mom? Sara-Beth? What are you doing?” I ask.
“Dancing our way to a svelte figure,” Sara-Beth answers.
“Is that an old Richard Simmons video?” I ask as I enter the room and catch a glimpse of his shiny bootie shorts.
“Yes, it’s Sweatin’ to the Oldies. We love it,” Mom says as she pants.
“How are you playing that thing? It has to be ancient,” I ask as I search for the VCR.
“Morris took my VHS tape and loaded it onto one of those DVDs for us,” Sara-Beth says.
“And it’s not ancient. It’s a classic, and it’s fun!” Mom adds.
They continue to shake their booties.
“Are you wearing a leotard?” I ask Mom.
“What else should I work out in?”
I shake my head.
“You should join us,” Sara-Beth suggests.
“I can’t. I have to get to work. I don’t want to upset my boss by running late.”
Richard calls out for them to do a cooldown. Mom hands Sara-Beth a towel, and they dry off.
“Did you have fun last night?” Mom asks me.
“Yeah. I’m sorry about missing dinner,” I tell her.
She waves me off. “Don’t worry about it. I had a hot date myself,” she says.
She what?
“You had a date? With who?” I ask.
“My old beau, Ralph.”
“Mr. Gentry? The mayor?” I screech.
Mom and our town’s mayor dated when they were teenagers before she met my father and fell madly in love.
“That’s the one,” she confirms.
“What happened to Mrs. Gentry?”
“She died about five years ago. Heart attack,” Sara-Beth informs me.
“I can’t believe you’re dating,” I tell Mom.
“There hasn’t been a curtain call on my life yet. It’s in the third act. It’s my choice whether or not this act is going to be a grand finale or a tragic ending,” she says.
“But what about Daddy?”
“What about him?” she asks.
“I guess I just never thought about you ever being with someone else.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I’ll always miss your father. He was the love of my life, but I didn’t stop living when he did. I had to figure out what my life would look like, going forward. Life after being Bernard Tilson’s wife,” she says.
“Life after wife. Sounds like the title to a cheesy self-help book,” I mumble.
“Or a second-chance romance,” Sara-Beth adds.
Mom walks over to me and places her hands on my cheeks. “It might sound cheesy, but it’s true, and the same goes for you. You don’t have to be a prisoner to who you were. It wasn’t a jail sentence; it was a marriage. You’re allowed to have a life after wife too, you know.”
“It feels weird,” I whisper.
“What does?” she asks.
“Being happy or excited when I should be upset,” I admit.
“Oh, Taeli, there is nothing wrong with moving on.”
“I feel like I don’t deserve to. I couldn’t keep my marriage together.”
“Don’t do that, Taeli. Don’t play the martyr. You’re not a puddle. People stomp through puddles. You, my dear, are a mighty river,” she scolds.
When did she become so inspirational?
“Play? You think I’m playing, Mom? This is my life.”
“Yeah, well, life happens to all of us. There isn’t a person alive who doesn’t have a sad story to tell. It’s up to each person to decide whether they’re going to be the hero or the victim of their own story. So, what are you going to be?” she asks.
I look between her and Sara-Beth, who is listening intently.
“You make it sound so simple with your dancing and yoga and remodeling. But I’m dealing with a lot of shit right now,” I tell her.
“So?”
“So?!”
“Shitty things have happened to you. Your life isn’t shit. Take a look around. Shitty things have happened to us all. I lost your father. One day, he was here, and the next, he was gone. There was no fight. No anger. Just a kiss good-bye, and off we went about our day. Throw a rock, and anyone it hits is dealing with something shitty. You could trade with them, but guess what. Shit is shit. It’s just different shit, is all,” she says.
“Can you stop saying shit?” I ask.
“Shit, shit, shit,” she chants.
Sara-Beth starts to giggle, and before I know it, all three of us are laughing out loud.
“You’re right,” I tell her once I catch my breath.
“I know. I’m old, so being wise is what I do,” she says.
“Mayor Gentry, huh?”
“He’s a silver fox, and he likes my cookies,” she says.
“I bet he likes your cookies,” Sara-Beth mutters.
“Okay, I’m out,” I say before excusing myself and running upstairs to get ready for the day.
Mom calls up after me, “The cookies might be mature, but they’re still tasty!”
“I can’t hear you,” I yell from the landing.
Their laughter floats up.
Crazy old ladies.
I walk in the office door ten minutes late.
“Crap, I’m sorry I’m late. It’s Mom and Sara-Beth’s fault, I swear,” I tell Erin as I come barreling through the door.
“It’s fine,” she says.
I sit down and turn on my laptop when she speaks again.
“Your cell phone is in your top drawer.”
“My what?” I ask as I slide open the drawer to see my phone is indeed tucked inside.
“Yeah, Graham came by. He said you left it at his house, and he didn’t want you to panic when you realized you didn’t have it.”
“Oh,” I say.
“Oh, nothing. Spill,” she demands.
“There’s nothing to spill,” I tell her.
“Girl, you are covered in a morning afterglow, so don’t even try. I’m calling Jena and Ansley. We’re having a lunch meeting,” she says before picking up the phone to dial.
“A lunch meeting?” I ask.
“Yep, and you are going to tell us everything.”
I get up, run over to her desk, and grab the phone. “No, you don’t. I don’t need any rumors started. I’ve already had to deal with my reputation being ruined in one
town.”
She huffs. “First of all, Jena, Ansley and I would never start rumors. What are we, sixteen? Besides, reputations are just history passed down the gossip train. You can change them anytime you want to.”
“You don’t care what people think about you?” I surmise.
“Nope, and neither should you,” she points out. “Besides, why is getting your freak on with a hot single man anything to be embarrassed about?” she asks.
“I’m not embarrassed. I just have to be careful because of Caleb,” I tell her.
“Then it’s a good thing Jena nor Ansley have your boy on speed dial. Now, give me back my phone and get ready to share all the tawdry details.”
She holds her hand out, and I set the phone in her palm.
“Fine. Lunch meeting it is,” I surrender.
I’m dying to tell someone anyway.
Taeli
“Oh my,” Erin says while fanning herself.
“Yeah, I think I need a cigarette,” Jena agrees.
“You don’t smoke. Do you?” I ask.
She grins. “No, but I might start after that story.”
“Right? I thought I was going to combust,” Ansley agrees.
“Damn, girl, you’re in town what, a month and a half, and you already snagged Graham Tuttle? I’m so impressed,” Erin adds.
“I haven’t snagged anyone. For all I know, it was a one-time thing. A really hot one-time thing.”
Jena reaches over the table and places her hand on top of mine. “However long it lasts, let yourself enjoy it. After all you’ve been through, you deserve to be giddy over a new romance. It could be the beginning of your happily ever after or just a spicy anecdote before you move on to the next amore. Either way, it’s what you need to recover.”
“An anecdote is all it can be. I’m only on vacation. When I return to my regularly scheduled life, he won’t be a part of it,” I tell them.
“Unless you decide to stay,” Ansley says.
“I can’t do that.”
“Sure you can. You can do anything you want to do, and we’d love for you to stick around. Our threesome could use a fourth,” Jena points out.
A warmth slides down my spine.
It’s nice to feel wanted.
“Now, tell us more about your mom and Mayor Gentry,” Erin requests.
“I thought you guys weren’t ones to start rumors?” I ask her.
“It’s not a rumor if it’s true,” she replies.
I place my head in my hands. “I can’t believe my mom has a boyfriend. You guys, I never imagined it,” I cry.
“Why not? She’s still a woman. He’s a dapper bachelor. I say, good for them both. If anything happens to Ted, I pray I can find another man to spin me around the dance floor.”
“Me too,” Jena agrees.
“And Mayor Gentry is a great catch. His children and grandchildren adore him, as does the entire town. You couldn’t ask for a better man for your mom to spend her time with,” Erin says.
Ansley nods.
“I like him. He’s just not my daddy,” I mutter.
“I’m sure he’s not trying to be. He just likes Leona. That’s a good thing,” she insists.
“There is a reason our wedding vows say until death do us part. God doesn’t want or expect us to be alone after he calls our spouse home. He wants us to be free to find love again,” Ansley explains.
“I’d take him for a stepdad,” Erin adds.
I let their words sink in and realize they’re right. I do want that for my mother. Just like I hope Caleb wants that for me one day. Her finding love with another man doesn’t take a single moment of love away from her and Daddy.
“I know you’re right. I’ll do my best to accept it and support Mom.”
“Atta girl,” Ansley says.
“Thanks, guys. I needed this,” I tell them.
“Anytime. That’s what friends are for,” Jena says.
It’s strange. I never had this level of intimacy with the women I called friends back home in Illinois. The lunches were plentiful but the support and honesty were null, and I didn’t recognize it for the farce it was. True, deep friendship means so much more. It’s sharing the good, bad, and ugly and loving each other through it all.
After lunch, Erin and I head back to the office. Langford shows up with the boys around four, and they are a bundle of excitement.
“Mom, I caught a fish!” Caleb howls.
“You did?”
“Yeah, it was a big one. Tucker and his dad caught a whole bunch, but mine was the biggest one,” he says proudly.
Langford walks over and places a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “It was the biggest and very impressive for his first time with a fly rod.”
“We’re going to have it for dinner,” Caleb announces.
“You are?” I ask.
“Yeah, Tucker’s grandpa is going to get the guts out.”
I grimace, and Caleb and Tucker giggle.
I lift my eyes to Langford.
“Pop is cleaning the fish. The boys want to camp in a tent with him tonight and have an old-fashioned fish fry.”
“Can I, Mom?” Caleb asks.
“Please,” Tucker adds to the pleading.
I can’t believe my son is standing before me begging to go camping.
“If it’s okay with Hilton, it’s okay with me,” I tell them, and the boys cheer before scurrying out of the office to find Hilton.
“Thank you for taking him along with you guys today,” I tell Langford.
“The boys had a ball. He’s welcome to fish with us anytime,” he assures me.
He leaves to help the boys set up the campsite, and I call Mom to ask her to bring Caleb an overnight bag.
When she arrives, I have her fetch my son, and the three of us have a sit-down in the break room.
“Caleb, I need to talk to you about next week,” I start.
He smiles.
“Your dad called, and he wants to know if you’d like to go to Cabo with him.”
He wrinkles his forehead. “What about the picnic and fireworks?” he asks.
“You’d have to miss those.”
“Are you going to come to the beach?” he asks.
“No, buddy. It would just be you and Dad.”
He frowns.
“We’ve never gone anywhere by ourselves before,” he states.
It’s true. Other than an occasional father and son golf outing with friends, Damon never spent one-on-one time with Caleb. It was always the three of us.
“I know, but it could be fun. Just the two of you. You could show him your new fishing skills,” I encourage.
I can see the indecision in his eyes.
“I wanted to watch the fireworks with Tucker and Chris,” he mumbles.
I was looking forward to watching them with him as well, but I don’t let the disappointment show. I know this decision is hard enough for him to make.
“It’s up to you. You don’t have to go, but if you do want to go with your dad, I promise that we’ll have a picnic and shoot some fireworks of our own at the farm when you get back, and we’ll invite your friends,” Mom tells him.
“So, Dad will bring me back here?”
“Of course he will,” I assure him.
He sighs. “Okay, I’ll go with Dad,” he says with a hint of sadness.
It sucks to watch him struggle between letting his father down and staying to enjoy something new with the friends he’s made. What a mess we’ve made of his life.
“Can I go back to the tent now?” he asks.
“Yes. I’ll call your dad and get everything set up. You go enjoy your night.”
He hurries out the door, and I slump in my chair.
“It will be okay,” Mom tells me.
“I know. It just sucks,” I tell her as I take my phone and text Damon, saying Caleb wants to join him on vacation and ask him to fly into Knoxville so I can bring Caleb to meet him at the airport.
“Do y
ou have plans tonight?” Mom asks.
“I don’t.”
“Do you want to spend the evening with your mother?” she asks.
“Sure. What do you have in mind?” I ask.
“I was thinking of having a baking party. I’ll call Sara-Beth, and you can invite your new friends,” she suggests.
“I’m in,” Erin calls from her desk.
“Wonderful. Tell the other girls,” Mom shouts.
“On it,” Erin replies.
“I guess it’s a date,” I tell Mom.
She stands. “I’ll head to the market and get all the supplies. We’ll have wine and a charcuterie tray and get all the baking we need to get done for the Independence Day picnic.”
“Aha! You’re using us as slave labor,” I muse.
“I’m providing you with wine and snacks—that’s compensation,” she says as she heads to the door.
She stops at Erin’s desk. “The more, the merrier. Seven o’clock.”
“We’ll be there,” Erin confirms.
Taeli
Mom has a spread fit for a lifestyle magazine on the dining room table when Erin and I arrive.
Jena and Ansley are already in the kitchen, chatting with Mom and Sara-Beth.
“You’re here! Grab a glass. You two have some catching up to do,” Mom squeals as we enter the room.
Erin pours us each a glass of red wine, and I walk over to the stove to see a pot of greens boiling.
“I thought we were baking. What are the greens for?” I ask.
Mom looks over her shoulder at me. “Those aren’t greens. That’s weed. I’m making cannabutter,” she says.
“Canna what?”
“Cannabutter. I use it to make my medicinal candies and brownies,” she explains.
Dear Lord.
“I didn’t realize we were going to be running drugs at the Fourth of July picnic,” I muse.
“It’s not for the picnic. It’s for my personal consumption and a few gift baskets,” she clarifies.
“Okay, but if we get busted, you’re taking the fall,” I tease.
We take our time filling our stomachs and chatting before Mom supplies us all with red or blue aprons and puts us to work.
“Taeli, you start the sugar cookie dough,” she instructs.
