In It to Win It

by Kelly Jamieson

  He says the name the French way. I repeat it. “Bear-nar.”

  He grins. “Yeah.”

  “Speak French to me.”

  “Tu es belle. Tellement sexy. Je veux te baiser de toutes les manières.”

  I sigh. “Lovely.”

  He smirks.

  “Wait. What did you say?”

  “Je vais te lécher la chatte. Et téter les nichons.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “I think you’re talking dirty to me.”

  “Yes, I most definitely am.”

  “Well, it sounded very sexy.”

  “Good.” He wraps his arms around me and squeezes. “I told you you’re beautiful and sexy and I want to fuck you every way I can. Lick your pussy. Suck your tits.”

  “Oh.” My belly does a flip and flutter. “Um.”

  “But not now. Right now we’re just going to nap. Faire un somme.”

  “Faire un somme.” I attempt to repeat it.

  “Oui. C’est ça.” He kisses my forehead.

  We clean up the kitchen together, then he leads me into his bedroom. With the blinds drawn, it’s nearly like night in here. He sets his phone on the nightstand, then strips naked. I stand in awe, watching him reveal that beautiful body to me, one piece of clothing at a time. He climbs into bed and pats the mattress. “Come on, Sunshine.”

  “Why I do have this feeling if I take my clothes off we won’t be sleeping?”

  He smiles, his eyes closed. “Don’t worry, I’m very committed to my nap.”

  “Okay.” I undress too and slide in with him. His arm comes around me and pulls me into him, spooning. He feels so good…His body is about two hundred degrees, firm, strong, hair-roughened. Our legs twine together, and damn if I don’t find myself sliding deliciously into slumber.

  After our nap, I cautiously let JP go about his routine. He eats a slice of whole-grain bread with peanut butter, then dresses in a suit and tie that makes him so handsome I could weep. It brings back memories of the wedding: him in his tux, me in my bridesmaid dress, dancing, then on his bed in his hotel room…

  He smooths a hand over his blue paisley silk tie and smiles.

  “You look gorgeous,” I say in a husky voice.

  “Will you stay here?” he asks, moving closer. “I’m sure Byron would like it.”

  “I have to work in the morning.”

  “Do you want me to take you home before the game? Or in the morning?”

  “In the morning.” I should probably go home and do some laundry or something, but I’m weak. Plus, staying with Byron is nice.

  “Good. Help yourself to food, or order in if you want.” He kisses me, a long, gentle, hot press of our mouths. “A new pre-game ritual,” he murmurs. “See you after the game.”

  “Okay. Good luck. Oh…is it bad luck to say that? I’m supposed to say ‘break a leg,’ right? No, that’s show business. Uh…play well? Oh, wait, I know…go get ’em, Killer!”

  He grins. “Thanks.”

  It’s only three o’clock; the game doesn’t start till six. I have time to do some of the work I brought home—reports I need to finish writing for next week. I find my laptop and look around. The dining table is too high for me, and I can’t work for long with the computer actually on my lap. JP has a room he uses as an office. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I go in there.

  As is his whole place, it’s beautifully furnished, with elegant dark wood office furniture. I park my butt in the big leather chair. Way too big for me, but it’ll do. I find the lever on the side and raise it as high as I can, then scoot up to the desk.

  I get to work, but then I need to make some notes. I have a notebook out in the other room, but JP probably has pens and paper in here. I slide open a drawer in the desk and pause, staring.

  Not what I expected to see in his office desk—it’s knitting needles, a skein of wool in multiple shades of blue, and some knitting. I poke at it, then pick up the needles carefully. I can’t tell what it is, but I don’t want to wreck it. I once tried to learn how to knit and didn’t get far with it, but I know that dropping stitches is not a good thing.

  Everly and Lacey both knit. Why would JP have knitting here in his condo? In his office?

  I’m super curious, but not likely to get an answer to that right now, so I slide the drawer shut and try another one. This time I find pens and a notepad. Perfect. I shake my head and get back to work.

  When I next check the clock, it’s nearly game time.

  I’ve already confronted the fact that I’m a fickle Condors fan because I’ve watched a few Golden Eagles games lately. But I rationalize it that I’m not an Eagles fan; I’m a JP Wynn fan. Ha. That makes it okay.

  I feed Byron, then peruse the contents of the fridge. Oh hey, there’s the leftover pizza I brought home last night. That’ll be perfect.

  With my reheated pizza and a glass of red wine, I sit cross-legged on the big sectional, Byron curled up beside me, and click the remote to find the game. They’re just finishing the anthems for the game against Vancouver. I bounce a little in anticipation.

  JP takes the opening face-off tonight and the camera zooms in on his face as he bends over center ice. He looks fierce and focused.

  The ref drops the puck and the game is on, fast and ferocious, both teams battling hard.

  About halfway through the first period, my phone pings. I plugged it in to charge earlier, and I lean way over to grab it from the end table. Mom.

  Hi honey. Haven’t heard from you. I hope you’re okay. I know this was surprising news and I want to talk more about it. I’ll always be your mom and I’ll always love you—nothing changes that. Text me or call me when you’re ready.

  Tears spring to my eyes.

  I do love my mom, and her message is…perfect. Not angry, not pushy, not passive-aggressive guilt-inducing. She’s been the best mom in the world. Whatever has happened between her and Dad, and her and Shirley, doesn’t change that…she’s right.

  I message her back. I’m not quite ready to talk…but I will be.

  I’ve lost my focus on the game and to my disappointment, Vancouver has scored. Damn.

  Oh right, I don’t really care who wins this game.

  My phone pings again. Expecting it to be Mom, I blink seeing it’s Lacey. Hey, where you been, girlfriend?

  She’s texted me a few times over the long weekend, and I haven’t replied.

  I’m a bad friend, sorry. I’ve been busy.

  Whatcha up to?

  Hmmm. What do I tell her?

  I don’t reply right away, watching as JP and Number 76—who is that?—get a two-on-one against Vancouver and JP shoots at the net…and misses. The crowd roars its disappointment and I express a loud “Bah!”

  I’ve been at JP’s most of the weekend.

  Oh. Is he on a road trip?

  I hesitate before typing the two letters and hitting send. No.

  What is going on?????

  Then another text from her arrives. Is Byron okay?

  I smile. Yes he’s fine.

  OMG!

  Then my phone rings. I roll my eyes. Should have known.

  “Hi,” I answer.

  I’m greeted with a small screech.

  “Calm down, Lace.”

  “What is going on?”

  “I don’t even know. It’s a long story.” I sigh. “I have a lot to tell you.”

  “Start talking.”

  I tell her about my mom. And Shirley. And coming here to let Byron comfort me and then most of what happened after that. “I was so upset,” I explain. “And JP was so nice to me…and I told him I’m not seeing Anthony anymore, and, well…”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Yeah. It’
s been…brewing between us ever since the wedding.”

  “You know…he’s kind of a player, right?”

  “I know.”

  “He’s not a settle-down kind of guy.”

  “I know that too. And I don’t want that.” I lean my head back into the couch cushions. “My parents’ separating has made me think about a lot of things. If they couldn’t make it, why would I think I can? What’s the point? So if I feel something hot and exciting for JP, why not go with it? It’s not going to be forever. Nothing is.”

  Silence presses on my ears. “I’m going to have to disagree with you on that,” she finally says.

  “I mean except for you and Théo, of course.” They’re deliriously happy now, sure, but there are no guarantees, even for a couple who seem so perfect. I don’t tell her that, though.

  “Of course.” She pauses. “I don’t like hearing you say that.”

  “Say what? That I’m giving up on love?”

  “Yeah.” Her voice is tinged with sadness. “That’s not you, Tay.”

  “Sure it is. So don’t worry about me and JP.”

  I can tell I’m not convincing her.

  “Okay,” she says slowly. “Can I tell Théo?”

  “Sure. It’s not a secret.”

  “Maybe the four of us can go out sometime.”

  “That would be fun.” I think. Or would it be too…serious? Too couple-like? Well, I’ll let JP deal with that.

  “I’m sorry about your mom,” Lacey says. “That must have been quite a shock. You never knew that about her?”

  “Nope. Not at all. Why would I? She was happily married. At least, I thought she was—”

  “Wait, she was happily married. Don’t let this taint your whole past. She wasn’t lying to you.”

  I let out a whoosh of breath. “That’s what JP said too.”

  “Huh.”

  “Huh what?”

  She chuckles. “Sounds like JP is a smart guy.”

  “He’s been really…supportive.”

  “Is that a euphemism?”

  Now I laugh. “No. I mean that.”

  “Well, that’s good.”

  “It’s hard not to question everything I knew, though.”

  “I’m sure. Why don’t we have dinner one night next week? You can tell me more and talk it all out.”

  “That would be great.”

  “You want to invite Everly? Or just the two of us? Would it be weird, with JP being her nephew?”

  I think about that. I like Everly. She’s very sensible and smart. “No, let’s invite her too.”

  “Okay, I’ll do a group text and we’ll set something up.” After a beat she says, “Be careful, Tay.”

  I know what she means. “I’m fine.”

  Chapter 20

  Taylor

  Christmas is rapidly approaching.

  JP and I have been spending a lot of time together, but we won’t be having Christmas together. My mom and Shirley are going to spend the holiday with Shirley’s family—her mother and brothers and their families—so Dad invited me to go with him to San Diego to visit Amy and Jeff. We’re going to drive down Christmas Eve and come back the day after Christmas. I’m excited to see my sister, and super excited to see my two little nieces.

  But this makes me think that if I’m not going to see my mom at Christmas, I should at least talk to her. We’ve texted a bunch of times, but I haven’t seen her since Thanksgiving. JP’s brought it up a few times, and it’s true that she and I need to talk things out. So I text her and ask if I can come over and bring her a Christmas gift.

  Her reply comes immediately. I would love that. I have a gift for you too.

  Her quick and heartfelt response chokes me up a bit.

  So Saturday afternoon, I’m going to her place. JP is away on the last road trip of the year before the Christmas break. I wish he were here so he could come with me, but this is something I have to do myself. It’s my family, and my issues that I have to deal with.

  Mom greets me with a huge, emotional hug. I can tell she’s nearly crying. She holds me tight for a long moment, and I hug her back. She’s my mom and I’ve missed her. I love her.

  Taking my jacket, Mom says, “Shirley’s gone out shopping.”

  I nod, appreciative of her effort to give Mom and me time alone. We settle into comfy chairs near a cute Christmas tree, with mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies on the coffee table.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Mom says. “I’ve missed you. I hate thinking that you hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you.” I look down at my mug. “Why didn’t you ever say anything about…this?”

  She pauses. “It’s not that easy. First of all, I was happily married. You’re my daughters. There was no reason to tell you. Also…I’ve had bad experiences telling people I’m bisexual. I’ve only ever had one relationship with a woman before Shirley, back when I was in college. My friends were weird about it. They made me feel like I was just experimenting and dismissed it. At eighteen years old, I even wondered if that’s what it was. After that, I only had relationships with men. But whenever I’d tell a man I was seeing that I was bisexual, or that I’d had a relationship with a woman, they turned it into something…sleazy. So I stopped telling people.”

  “Did Dad know?”

  “Yes. That was part of the reason I loved him so much—he accepted that part of me, and listened to me when I explained it. With him, I felt like I could be honest. He never felt threatened by it.” She meets my eyes and holds my gaze steadily. She knows I’ve worried about how Dad feels through all this. “I want you to know that I was absolutely, one hundred percent in love with your father.”

  I nod. “That’s good.” My throat thickens and I swallow. “Is Shirley…bi?”

  “No.” Mom shakes her head. “She’s gay.”

  “Does she understand your bisexuality?”

  Mom hesitates, and I look up sharply to study her face.

  “We’ve had a few conversations about it,” Mom says carefully. “She worries that because I was in a heterosexual relationship for so long, and I have children, that I’ll want to be with a man again. I’ve tried to reassure her it’s not like that. Just because I’ve been in relationships with men doesn’t make me any less bisexual. It’s who I am.”

  I nod slowly. Okay, great. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Mom being happily involved with someone else; now I’ll worry about her and Shirley.

  “I don’t know if things will work out with Shirley long term. I love her, but we have some things to work through.” She pauses. “I want you to know that she’s not just the only woman I’ve met who I’m attracted to and want to have a relationship with…she’s the only person. I truly never anticipated that my feelings for your father would change.” She pauses. “What bothers you more? My bisexuality? Or the fact that I fell out of love with your father?”

  “It’s not your bisexuality. That was a…surprise, for sure. But…I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t matter who you’re with; it’s still heartbreaking that y-you and Dad…” I can’t go on.

  “I know.” She reaches out a hand and covers mine, squeezing it gently. “I know. This isn’t something I ever thought would happen.”

  “It makes me question everything…our family, the whole foundation of our lives.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry. But I’ll say it again: we were a happy family. I wasn’t lying or hiding anything from you. That foundation is solid, sweetie. And I’ll always be your mom. I’ll always love you.”

  “Like that book you read us when we were kids.”

  “Love you forever.” She smiles.

  “Yes. And I love you too.”

  “When do I get to meet this man you�
�re seeing?”

  “You did meet him.” I pull back and swipe my fingertips beneath my eyes. “The day I was moving out.”

  “Phhht. That wasn’t really meeting him. I do remember he’s very handsome.”

  “He is.” My insides warm and soften. “And…I like him.”

  “Bring him for dinner sometime.” Her eyes shadow. “Unless…”

  “No, that would be fine. I just…things aren’t serious with us.”

  “Hmm. Okay. Does he have teeth?”

  I choke on a laugh. “Yes, Mom, he has teeth.”

  She grins. “Just asking.”

  “Should we open our presents?”

  “Yes. Let’s do that.”

  I bought Mom some expensive bubble bath and bath salts in her favorite jasmine scent, knowing how much she loves to soak in the tub and read a book. I unwrap her present to me, a heavy box, and find a beautiful set of bright yellow Fiesta dishes—plates, bowls, and mugs. “Oh! I love them!”

  “I thought they’d look nice in your kitchen, with your sunflowers.”

  “Thank you, Mom.”

  I set the box on the floor and lean over to hug her again.

  * * *

  —

  I spent most of the weekend at JP’s condo, with Byron, so I went home Sunday evening to watch the game there. The Eagles were in Vegas, and flew home right after the game, meaning they got back in the middle of the night, and I have to work Monday morning.

  Monday is busy, packed with appointments. Kids are out of school, so we’re booked up, meaning no time for notes or progress reports or calling doctors to discuss care plans, but that’s okay—we’ll catch up after the holidays. The kids I see are all wound up about Christmas, but it’s so much fun. Right now I’m saying goodbye to Sophia, a four-year-old girl who was born with profound hearing loss. When she was eighteen months old she received a cochlear implant, and after years of working with her, her speech and language skills are almost within normal limits. She’s going to start kindergarten next year and we’re all so happy with her progress. I haven’t personally been involved with her that long, but she’s such a sweet little girl that I may have fallen a bit in love with her.