by Kate Stewart
“Hurry, Mommy!”
Troy’s eyes rake over me with heated appreciation.
“Morning good neighbor.”
He gives me a breathtaking smile, his own eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep. “Morning.”
I rip my eyes away and still Dante’s bounce on my stomach. “Why don’t you let Troy take you to see what Santa brought?”
“You sure?” Troy asks.
“Of course, I’ll be right out.”
“Come on!” Dante springs from my bed and grabs Troy’s hand ushering him out of my room.
After wrangling with my sexed-up hair and making myself somewhat presentable, I join my men in the living room as Dante gushes over his new desk.
“I didn’t know I wanted this!”
“Santa knew,” I say, giving Troy the compliment. Pride shines in his father’s eyes as he shows Dante the ins and outs of his new desk and the lighting equipment.
“I love it!”
“Did you like your bike?”
“Yep. Troy’s going to teach me how to ride it.”
Troy. Not Mommy. I curl my lip at him, and he chuckles.
Dante rips through his presents while Troy and I sit back, sipping coffee, sharing heated looks. It’s when Dante reads the tag on a large package that he grabs Troy’s attention.
“This says from Troy, and it’s big,” Dante says, moving to sit in his lap. Troy wraps around him as if they’ve been doing it for years, which warms my heart. I look on, just as curious about the contents. Dante’s eyes bulge when Troy helps to open the taped box.
“IT’S ALL MY MERCH! Mommy, LOOK!” Dante lifts up the contents consisting of T-shirts, hoodies, coffee mugs, posters, and more, all brandishing The Legit Life Logo which Dante had designed himself. He’s beside himself with excitement as he sorts through it. It’s hundreds of dollars of merchandise that I haven’t been able to afford, and I’m blown away by Troy’s gesture. “You got me all of it! TROY! This is awesome!”
“I thought we could design your set, and you could wear it when you make your videos.”
Dante turns in Troy’s lap and throws himself at him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you soooo much!”
“Welcome, bud,”
“You’re my best friend,” Dante says easily, which stuns us both. Eyes locked after his confession, Dante moves from his lap and digs into the rest of his presents. Troy clears his throat, but I don’t miss the emotion shining in his eyes.
Troy
Troy: You look beautiful this morning, Ms. A. Did you do something new to your hair?
Clarissa’s phone buzzes on the table, her smile growing while she reads my message. Our eyes meet over Dante’s head as he finishes his cereal.
Clarissa: It’s called afterglow. Something new was done to me. I had a very wicked man sneak into my bedroom last night to have his way with me.
Troy: That so?
Clarissa: Oh, it’s so. He must have borrowed my house key from his son. If he keeps it up, he might earn his own key. He’s got a very persuasive tongue.
“Troy,” Dante grips my face with his hands. “Are you listening?”
“Sorry, bud. What were you saying?”
“I said that Carly wants me to be her boyfriend.”
This has Clarissa snapping her head up. “What?”
“I told her no. But I didn’t tell her cause she was ugly. Don’t worry, Mommy.”
“So, you don’t like her?” I ask as he slurps the almond milk from the side of his bowl like I taught him. A trick his mother isn’t fond of.
“No way. She’s always putting heart stickers on my hand. Gross.”
“Be nice to her,” Clarissa warns. “One day, you might think differently about her.”
“I’m not marrying anyone,” Dante says with the shake of his head. “Ever. Never.”
I chuckle. “The right girl will change your mind one day,” I say as Clarissa grins at me. “And drive you crazy.” Her smile morphs into a scowl. “But in a good way.”
Troy: We need a date.
Clarissa: Our sitter just left for India for three weeks.
Just as I’m about to type my reply, a notification pops up in my email, and I tense.
“Troy! Did you hear me!?”
I look over to Clarissa, and immediately, she sees it.
“Dante, go, go get dressed. Your clothes are on your bed.”
Clarissa’s already standing next to me as I scan the email.
“Is that it? Did you get the invite to the Combine?”
“I’m in,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m in.”
She leans down and wraps her arms around me. “Troy, this is awesome.”
She glances toward the hallway and turns back to me, stealing a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“I can’t believe you’re shocked. You had to know.”
I can’t help my smile. “Holy shit. I’m going.” She runs her hands through my hair.
“I know just how to celebrate. Dinner tonight and after…” She waggles her brows.
“Sounds perfect,” I say before glancing up at her, some of the high I’m feeling dispersing. “But we need to talk.”
“About?” She asks, alarm covering her face. Since Christmas, we’ve spent every spare moment together through the New Year. I’ve taken advantage of her couch when Theo texts to let me know he needs the house. Things are getting serious for him and his girlfriend, and he’s made it abundantly clear he wants me nowhere near that.
Lance has been a fucking wreck up until he left to go back to his family’s ranch for winter break. Harper broke up with him a few games before the season ended. Despite our budding friendship, he refuses to tell me what happened, but I have my suspicions.
No one, not even Theo, suspects a damn thing about the fact that my truck’s always parked next door while my bedroom is unoccupied. Everyone a house over is too wrapped up in their own lives, all of us moving in different directions once we snatch our diplomas. And I’m about to find myself moving away from the only place in years that’s felt like home.
Clarissa takes the chair next to me. “Okay, you’re making me nervous. I don’t think I can wait until dinner.”
I grab her hand and kiss the back of it before threading our fingers.
“I didn’t bring it up before because I wasn’t sure…”
“Tell me.”
“There’s this camp—”
“I’m ready,” Dante says, racing into the room with his backpack.
“You forgot your folder,” Clarissa says, glancing inside.
“Oh, duh,” he freezes, darting his eyes at Clarissa, “duh, do, da, le, do,” Dante sing songs with a giggle, and we can’t help our laugh.
“Good save, baby,” she says, shaking her head.
She squeezes my hand as soon as he’s out of earshot.
“Okay, so there’s a camp?”
“Yeah. It’s a prep camp for the Combine. And it’s expensive. Like really fucking expensive. I reserved a spot months ago in the off chance I’d be invited, but if I go—” I run a hand down my face.
“You wouldn’t be able to help out for a while.”
I nod. “It would be like taking out a student loan I may never be able to pay back.”
“That expensive?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, so do it. Bet on yourself. I am.”
“Fuck, you’re incredible,” I whisper.
“How long will you be gone?”
This is the part I dread most. “Six weeks. And I would need to leave tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I wasn’t about to spend the money without the invite, but if I want in, I have to report within the next few days to keep my spot, and it’s a long drive.”
“What about school?”
“I’ll miss a little, but I’ll make it up.”
“You have to go,” she whispers.
“I know. I have to do whatev
er it takes. Whatever it takes.”
She nods. “You’ve got this.”
I can tell she’s being strong for me, but what we have is new, and I don’t want to gamble with it.
“I’m not going anywhere.” She repeats my words back to me, seeing the apprehension in my face. In this second, I’d move mountains just to fucking pull her to me and kiss her fears away. The secrets we’re hiding from our son are piling up, but I can’t in good judgment say the timing is right. Just as the thought drifts through my head to broach the subject of when, Dante busts us.
“Mommy? Why are you holding Troy’s hand?”
Clarissa squeezes it and lets go. “Because Troy just got really good news. He’s going to camp.”
“Clarissa,” I say softly.
“You’re going. We’ll make it work,” she whispers, “we will.” I want so bad to hold her and hate the fact I can’t.
“What camp?”
“Football camp.”
“For how long?”
“I would leave tomorrow, bud, and I won’t be back for a long time.”
“How many sleeps?”
“Forty-four.”
“Yeah, no,” he shakes his head as if it’s final. “No, you don’t need to go. You’re already good at football. They can have camp without you.”
Clarissa speaks up, saving me once again. “Dante, he needs to go so he can get into shape.”
Dante frowns. “You’re already strong. You can lift me over your head!”
“They’ll make me stronger, bud. Faster.”
“How much stronger?”
“Like the Hulk,” I say, tossing him up and carrying him toward the door at my side. His whines bouncing out with each of my steps. “But, who, will, play, Xbox, with, me?”
“Theo will.”
“I don’t want Theo.”
“I’ll call you every day.”
“I can come see you. Right, Mommy? We’ll go too?”
“No, baby, we can’t come to this camp,” she says, locking up the house and taking the key off the chain before handing it to me. I glance down to where it sits in my palm and close it in my fist. She leans in with a whisper. “So you don’t forget where home is.”
She ushers Dante down the steps. “Come on, we can’t be late for school.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper as we make our way to her SUV.
“No way, this is happening,” she gives me a serene smile, and I see all her strength in it. “And you need to be smiling about it right now. We’ve got your back. See you tonight?”
“Tonight,” I say, walking down the steps before shooting off a text.
Troy: I’m kissing the hell out of you right now.
Amy’s Sausage Snack Wraps
Chiropractor, Chicago IL
Makes 48 snacks
30 minutes
2 8 Ounce Cans Pillsbury Refrigerated Crescent Dinner Rolls
48 Cocktail-Sized Smoked Link Sausages
Unroll both cans of dough and separate into 16 triangles. Cut each triangle lengthwise into thirds. Place sausage on shortest side of each triangle. Starting at shortest side, roll up to opposite point. Place on ungreased cookie sheet.
Bake at 375 degrees for 12 to 15 minutes or until golden brown.
Serve warm. If desired, serve with ketchup or mustard.
Clarissa
It’s been less than two days since Troy packed up his truck, and I’ve been walking in a nightmare. Work has been a living hell, hormones, and testosterone flying at me from all sides. I drove through a construction site this morning and got two flat tires, started my period, and was alerted to that fact by one of my students. That was just from seven to lunch. Dante had a rare meltdown in the grocery store after I picked him up, and we’ve been fighting ever since.
All I want is a bath and a little FaceTime with Troy.
Walking my laundry into my bedroom, I glance over at my vanity, picturing Troy behind me, his eyes lit with lust as his lips cover my skin. That fantasy gets me through as I fold a week’s worth of laundry. They say love is a drug, and while I’ve had an inkling of it, I’m positive I’ve never been so doped up on endorphins in my life. I’ve never felt a rush the way I do when he touches me. His voice alone sets me off. Just the rumble of his laugh activates me. His smile, the way his eyes light up when he walks through my door.
I can see the appeal of the overload, but this high is natural. This high I’ll allow myself.
I already miss him. Forty-two sleeps to go.
My phone lights up with the number of Brett’s office, and I hesitate but decide to answer.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Arden?”
“Yes.”
“Hi, this is Marissa with Brett Tompkins’ office.”
“We’ve met Marissa, how can I help you?”
“Well, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but it appears your check for rent this month has been returned.”
“I’m sorry?” Mortified, I rush to my open laptop and click into my bank account to see that I am, in fact, in the negative by nearly seven hundred dollars.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll bring a cashier’s check by tomorrow, if that’s all right.”
“There’s a two-hundred-dollar late fee after the sixth.”
“That’s today. Can it possibly be waived?”
I wrack my brain on how I might have mismanaged my money.
“I can ask Mr. Tompkins.”
“No. NO! Please don’t do that. I’ll bring it by today before five.”
“That’s fine. See you then.”
“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!”
I toss my cell on the bed and jump when I see Dante’s reflection in the vanity mirror, his eyes wide. “You owe me sooo much money. The F word is four dollars each.”
“Dante. I’m telling you right now. Get out of here and find something to do for thirty minutes. I need thirty minutes.”
“Mommy, I added it up, and that’s,” he starts ticking off his fingers.
“You have no idea because you can’t multiply! OUT!”
“FINE!” He makes his way out of the bedroom as I sit on my bed with my laptop.
Within a matter of minutes, I know exactly why I’m poor. My education. My deferred student loan payments. After half an hour on the phone, I’m no closer to a solution.
“SHIT!”
“Two more dollars, Mommy!” Dante calls from where his sonic ears pick up signals from space. It’s a miracle Troy and I have gotten away with our bickering so far.
“Dante, we no longer give curse money in this house.”
“Nuh-uh.” Deciding not to fight with my six-year-old, I busy myself with my laundry, trying my best not to freak out. I’ve been through worse. I’ll get through this. Opening my dresser drawer, I see Troy’s cream sweater sitting on top of my T-shirts. I pull it out to see a note attached to the breast. I slip the sweater on and bring the V of the neck to my nose, inhaling deeply. I blame the tears that spring to my eyes on my hormones.
Wear this when you need me, pretty woman, and I hope you wear it a lot.
Yours,
Troy
Walking up the sidewalk into Brett’s office, I cringe when I see his BMW in the parking lot. The man is rarely there during business hours, why does he have to be in today? Cashier’s check in hand and emergency savings drained, I walk into the reception area, thankful to see his door closed. Envelope ready, I hand it to the receptionist.
“222 Ohara drive. You called this morning.”
“Yes, hold on a minute.” She picks up her phone and presses an extension. “Mr. Tompkins.” I wince as she looks up at me with a plastic smile. “Ms. Arden is here.” I’m still cringing when he opens his door and lifts brown eyes to mine.
“Hey, you,” he says, ushering me toward his office.
“Hey, Brett, I can’t stay, I have to pick up Dante from the neighbors.”
He slides his hands in his slacks. This man was my colleg
e dream. He’d been a slight obsession for me for multiple semesters. He’s beautiful in the polished suit sense, a take control kind of man, ambitious. All the things I found attractive. But after just a few short months of dating him, all my curiosity was quenched and swapped out for disappointment. But I can’t help but to be thankful for the trade-off as I take another whiff of the cologne from my sweater.
“Come on,” he tilts his head toward his office, “you’ve got a few minutes.”
“Just a few,” I say, walking into his office. He closes the door behind him as my phone buzzes.
Troy: How many sleeps left?
I press my lips together to hide my smile and glance up at Brett, who’s taking a seat behind his desk.
Clarissa: I can’t talk right now. I’m in the middle of a love affair with a cream sweater. Which I will need every day.
Troy: (Smiley face emoji) Call you later, baby, I need to check-in.
My heart warms at the sentiment.
Clarissa: It’s a date. (Kissing face emoji)
Brett clears his throat. “How’ve you been?”
“Fine. Just stopped by to pay rent.”
“Yeah. I saw that. Everything okay?”
“This is embarrassing. But yes. Everything is fine.”
Visions of bitch-slapping receptionists dancing in my head, I give him a polite smile. That witch knew we were dating because I’ve met him at his office more than once. I’m sure she wants nothing more than to bone her boss, if she hasn’t already. It occurs to me now just how often he called to tell me he’d be working late at the office.
I’m willing to bet she pranced in his office today with his morning coffee, twirling her hair with a ‘guess whose check bounced?’ ready on her tongue.
“Shit happens, right?”
“Yes, it certainly does. But I’m sure you have no clue what this is like. Ever bounced a check, Brett?”
“No, but I’m not ignorant to the issues of the working class.”
