by Devney Perry
I glanced over my shoulder to find Kali’s smile waiting. “It’s cool, Mom.”
Score. “It sure is.”
“Let’s get pizza,” Max yelled. The kid didn’t know any other volume besides loud.
I laughed and yelled too. “Pizza, here we come.”
Forty-five minutes later, the sound of a lawn mower preceded us as we turned into the cul-de-sac.
“Oh, great.” I really hoped Gavin hadn’t decided to do me a favor and mow my lawn. Sure enough, as we got closer, freshly cut swaths in my lawn greeted me. But it wasn’t Gavin mowing.
“Dad’s still here.” Kali pointed to Finn’s truck.
I blinked, certain I’d pulled onto the wrong street. Finn hadn’t mowed that lawn in years, even when we’d been married. Back then, work had demanded his full attention and he’d get home past dark most nights in the summer.
The mowing duty had always fallen to me.
But here he was, pushing my red mower in diagonal stripes across the grass. The Weed Eater was propped up against the garage door next to a pile of extension cords.
“What’s he doing?”
“Uh, mowing the lawn.” Max laughed. “Duh.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for clarifying, Max.”
“Ask a stupid question, get a stu—”
“Don’t say stupid.” I was glad he couldn’t see my smile from behind me.
My son was a smart-ass. He dished out comebacks faster and wittier than most adults. Teasing Finn and me was one of his greatest pleasures. The only person he was gentle with was Kali.
She didn’t have his thick skin. Maybe it was because she was getting into those difficult teen years. Maybe it was because the divorce had been so hard on her. Whatever the reason, Kali was more sensitive these days. And I’d always been grateful that Max loved his big sister so much that he went out of his way to protect her soft heart.
“Can you guys take the pizza inside?” I asked Max and Kali as I parked in the garage.
“Sure, Mom,” my girl volunteered.
“Thanks.” I had to find out what their father was still doing here.
As they carried the boxes inside, I walked out front to find Finn.
His shoes were coated with grass clippings, ruined for anything fancier than manual labor now. He spun the mower around, coming in my direction. When he reached the end of that row, he stopped the machine, the noise settling.
“What are—”
“Hey, Dad.” Max appeared at my side, a stolen breadstick in one hand and a huge bite in his cheeks. Kali was right behind him.
“Hey, guys. How was the ride?”
Max swallowed. “Sweet. Kali and I have our own screens so we don’t have to watch the same thing.”
Finn chuckled. “Did you like it, Kali?”
“Oh, yeah. Mom has the coolest car of any of my friends now.”
I smiled. Mission accomplished. “Will you guys go inside and set the table, please?”
Their feet stomped up the porch steps before they burst through the door, not bothering to shut it behind them.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I told Finn.
He shrugged. “No big deal.”
Who was this stranger? Well, whoever the Finn imposter was, I at least owed him dinner. “We got pizza. You’re welcome to stay.”
“That’d be great. I’ll finish up out here and hit the back. Then I’ll be in. You guys go ahead. Don’t wait for me.”
“If you want to just do the front, I can handle the back. Really.”
“Molly, it’s fine.” His voice was soft, smooth like the spring breeze. “I had nothing to do tonight but go home to an empty house.”
“Okay.” My shoulders relaxed. I wasn’t putting him out, and his help was much appreciated.
I left him to it, walking over to the porch steps and glancing over my shoulder as Finn tugged the pull cord and brought the mower’s engine to life.
He’d dropped the kids’ backpacks inside the door. I carried them down the hallway, leaving them at the base of the stairs before ducking into the dining room positioned off the kitchen.
“Good job, guys.” Max was setting out glasses while Kali placed napkins. They must have assumed Finn was staying, because there were four plates already set.
It was nice to see the dining room table full. Having it empty three or four nights a week when the kids stayed at Finn’s house was depressing. So much so, I usually ate standing in the kitchen or sitting on the living room couch. Anywhere but the dining room table, where the five empty seats made me feel alone.
“Oh, shoot.” I’d forgotten all about Gavin eating alone and my earlier plan to invite him over.
“What?” Kali asked.
“Never mind.” With Finn here, it would be too awkward to have Gavin come over. I could stop next door and invite him to a different meal later in the week after I’d caught up with the kids.
I opened pizza boxes and we each took our seats to dive in. When Max reached for his sixth piece, I swatted his hand away. “Save some for your dad. If he doesn’t eat it all, you can have the rest.”
“Okay.” He patted his belly. “I’m kinda full anyway. Do I have to eat the crusts?”
“No.” Though in an hour, he’d be hungry again.
“Can I go to my room?”
“Sure.” I winked. “Please take your backpack with you and get it unpacked.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He stood from the table, taking his plate with him to the sink. Then he bolted for the stairs.
“That kid doesn’t walk anywhere, does he?”
Kali giggled. “Can I go too?”
“Sure, sweetheart. Do you have any homework?”
She shook her head as she stood, also clearing her plate. “No.”
I stayed in my chair, watching as she put her plate and Max’s into the dishwasher. She’d always been my helper. I knew she helped at Finn’s place too.
“I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me too.” She smiled and came over for a tight hug, then she disappeared upstairs to her room.
I cleared my own plate just as the mower’s noise outside stopped. Through the kitchen window, I watched Finn come around the side of the garage and go to his truck. He toed off his grass-stained shoes and tossed them into the back. Then he did the same with his socks, which were green around the ankles. He bent down and swatted at the hems of his jeans, clearing away grass clippings before cuffing them in a tall fold.
My eyes dropped to his ass. Habit, I guessed. It still looked as good as it had when we’d been married. Finn hadn’t let age or sitting behind a desk compromise his muscled physique.
I was still staring when he stood and turned, his eyes finding mine through the kitchen window. I dropped my chin, hoping that by the time he walked inside the blush in my cheeks would be gone.
Finn came inside and straight to the kitchen. “Did Max save me anything but the crusts?”
“I guarded a few slices for you,” I said as I got him a glass of water.
“Thanks.” He washed his hands, then we both sat at the table, him on one side of a corner, me on the other. The silence stretched for a few awkward moments. “So, uh, how is work?”
“Good.” I plucked at a hair tie on my wrist. “It’s been busy. We’re already starting to see the summer tourists.”
I had the best job in all of Bozeman, working with my best friend, Poppy, at the restaurant she’d started nearly six years ago.
The Maysen Jar had always been her dream. When her husband Jamie had died in a tragic shooting ten years ago, she’d lost her footing. But that restaurant had helped her regain her balance. And not long afterward, she’d opened her heart to a new love. She’d married Cole Goodman, a man who lived up to his name.
Maybe it was time for me to find love again. Since the divorce, I’d focused on my career and the kids. But as they got older, as work got easier, I had more and more lonely moments.
Gavin had asked me out on
two different occasions. Timing hadn’t worked out for either because I’d already had plans. Maybe it was time to stop living this single life and take a risk.
Maybe when I purchased the Jeep’s replacement down the road in seven or eight years, I’d check a different marital status box on the application.
Though the idea of dating anyone made me queasy.
Finn didn’t have that problem. He’d moved on and had been dating on and off for years. He’d been with his most recent girlfriend for about a year. Brenna. I didn’t know much about her, because I’d made it a point to know little about his relationships. I asked questions to be civil, these women were spending time with my children after all, but nothing beyond the surface.
With Brenna, things were getting serious. Whenever Finn didn’t have the kids, she was attached to his side. She was even friends with Poppy. There was a picture hanging in the restaurant’s office of her and Finn playing board games at Poppy and Cole’s house.
When Poppy had asked me if I’d minded that photo, I’d lied and told her no. It was her restaurant. Finn was her brother. How she chose to decorate her office was her choice.
And when that photo had gone up six months ago, I’d started doing my office work out of the office.
I’d accepted divorced life. I had a way to go to accept Finn’s love life.
“What’s Brenna up to tonight?” If Finn was mowing my lawn, she must have had plans.
He swallowed his bite of pizza, chasing it down with some water. “I don’t know. We broke up last weekend.”
“Oh.” That was surprising. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. “Sorry.”
Finn shrugged. “Don’t be.”
I almost asked Finn how he was feeling about it, but discussing his feelings had been nearly impossible when we’d been married, let alone divorced.
Instead, I asked, “How were the kids?” He’d had them for the past three days.
“Good.” He grinned as he chewed. “They’re always good. Max can’t wait for school to be out next week. Kali doesn’t want it to end.”
I smiled. “Max just wants to do basketball camp. Kali doesn’t want to go the whole summer without seeing her friends.”
“She asked me if we could figure out a way for her to take swimming lessons with Vanessa.”
“Okay. I’ll call Vanessa’s mom and get schedule information. We’ll see if we can fit it in between all their camps.” Summers were always chaotic, running the kids from one summer camp to the next while still trying to work.
“Just let me know what I can do to help coordinate.” Finn tossed his uneaten crust onto his plate. Like Max, he didn’t eat the crust unless he was on the verge of starvation.
I, on the other hand, never turned down the carbs. I held out my hand, palm up. He chuckled and slid his plate over so I could take the crust. I ate it while he ate another piece of pizza.
“More?” He held up another crust.
I shook my head. “I’m full. Thanks again for doing the lawn.” It would save me from the chore this weekend and give me more time to take the kids out exploring in our new Jeep.
“No problem. What are you guys doing this weekend?”
“Nothing much. I was thinking of planning something fun to do with the kids. Maybe take them up to Hyalite Lake or something. You?”
He sighed. “I’ll probably just catch up at work. I’m behind on a couple of bids.”
No surprise there. Finn worked constantly when the kids were with me.
“Mom,” Max hollered from upstairs. “Can we watch a movie?”
“Sure,” I called back.
I stood from the table and cleared Finn’s plate as footsteps pounded down the wooden stairs and the kids came running into the kitchen.
Max frowned when he saw the empty pizza box on the table. “Can we make popcorn?”
I laughed, walking toward the pantry. “Yes, we can have popcorn.”
“Dad, do you want to stay and watch with us?” Kali asked.
My hand froze on the doorknob as I waited for his answer. She probably felt bad now that he was single again. No doubt he’d told the kids about his breakup with Brenna.
Did I want Finn to stay? Not really. He’d had the kids for three days and it was my turn. But for their sake, I’d never make him leave.
Finn and I made it a point to plan certain activities for the four of us. We’d have the occasional dinner or take the kids on a special adventure like skiing or hiking. It was important to us both that the kids saw us getting along.
But I spent days preparing for those times. I braced myself for how hard it would be to pretend we were a whole family, even for only a few hours.
“Maybe,” Finn answered Kali. “I need to talk to your mom for a minute.”
“You guys go pick the movie,” I told the kids. “Together, please. No fighting.”
When they were out of the room, I grabbed the popcorn from the pantry and put it in the microwave.
“Would you mind if I stayed?” he asked.
“Not at all.” It wasn’t a complete lie. After three glasses of wine, I wouldn’t care a bit that he was on the opposite end of the couch.
The popcorn began popping and I went to my wine rack, pulling out a favorite red.
“I’ll do it.” Finn stepped closer and I dodged out of the way so we wouldn’t bump into one another.
We didn’t touch. There were no hugs or kisses on the cheek. We smiled. We waved. But we never touched.
I slid the bottle across the counter and took out the corkscrew from a drawer. While he opened the bottle, I found glasses. He poured for us both. I shook the popcorn into a bowl, and the two of us walked into the living room, the one we used to share, to watch a movie with our kids on my leather sectional.
This was for them.
The key to a successful divorce, I’d found, was establishing boundaries. Like touching Finn, there were things I didn’t allow myself to do.
I refused to enjoy the sound of Finn’s laugh. I didn’t spare him a glance when Kali snuggled into his side, his arm curling around her tight. I didn’t pay any attention to his blue eyes as they tracked me on my repeated trips into the kitchen to refill my wine glass.
No, I watched the movie on my TV from my couch in my living room. I focused on drinking my wine.
Boundaries, that was the key. And an armored tank wasn’t getting across mine.
The alarm on my phone was always loud and shrill at five thirty in the morning. Today it seemed exponentially worse. I shot up from bed, sitting so straight the blankets and sheet went flying.
“Ugh.” My stomach rolled. My head was splitting in two, and my naked skin felt sticky.
I’d had way too much wi—
Why the hell am I naked? I didn’t sleep naked. Ever.
Not since . . .
I jumped from the bed, my eyes wide as they landed on the long, muscular arm curved around one of my white down pillows. A head of tousled red hair was resting on another. A leg, dusted with that same hair, was tucked outside a sheet.
“Oh my God,” I gasped as it all came rushing back. The movie. Finn carrying the kids to bed. Standing too close in the hallway. The simple brush of our hands.
The kiss.
The sex.
No. No no no no no.
So much for my boundaries.
Damn you, wine.
- LETTER -
Darling Molly,
This is why people don’t write letters anymore. I feel like a douche. But here I am, in all my douche glory, writing you a letter I am never going to send.
I’m glad my sister was too into Jamie to notice us. I’m glad you like burgers with extra cheese and extra bacon. I’m glad you gave me your phone number.
I’m not sorry I’ve already called you twice just to hear your voice.
So since you’re never going to read this, I guess it’s safe to tell you I had the best date of my life with you tonight. I don’t know if you’d call it a date. But
I’m calling it a date.
Watch out, Molly Todd. I just might have to marry you.
Yours,
Finn
Chapter Two
Molly
I was scrambling around the side of the bed, racing for the bathroom, when my feet got tangled in something on the floor. My knees crashed onto the rug. My hair flew into my face as my arms shot out to catch my fall.
“Sonofabitch,” I whispered, pushing the hair out of my face to see what had tripped me.
Panties. My feet were tangled in the panties I’d pulled on yesterday morning and Finn had ripped off last night.
I kicked my feet free, then scooped up the gray cotton briefs, balling them up in a fist. If Finn woke up before I made it to the bathroom, there was no way I wanted him inspecting my comfortable, sexless underwear. With them hidden, I hurried—more carefully this time—for the bathroom, collecting discarded clothing as I shuffled along.
At the door, I risked a glance over my shoulder. Finn was still asleep. No surprise. The man had slept like the dead when we’d been together. When the kids were newborns, I’d have to kick him repeatedly to rouse him for his feedings.
I shut the door to the bathroom, leaned back against the white paneled wood and breathed a sigh.
I slept with Finn.
This was a disaster. What the damn hell had I been thinking? Finn and I had spent years getting to a place of friendship. I was happily single, I bought my own car, and I ran my own life. I’d even considered dating again. Why? Why am I so stupid?
I was shaking when I pushed off the door. I threw my clothes in the hamper, then turned on the shower. I spent a few extra seconds breathing in the steam and my rosemary and mint shampoo. Neither helped calm my trembling.
“So stupid,” I told the spray. “I’m not doing this again.”
I wasn’t getting mixed up in Finn. I wasn’t a casual sex woman and certainly not with the man who’d once been my entire world. What had happened to my boundaries? They were there for a good goddamn reason.
