Casanova Cowboy (A Morgan Mallory Story) (4 page)

“
Are you staying at the O’Conner’s?” I asked.

“We’
re all staying there,” Mom said gladly.

I pictured
her and Ann, Mathew’s mom, outside by the pool with their cocktails and cigarettes. Mom in her element, I was sorry for her it would be so brief.

“I would prefer to stay with Gayle
, if that’s all right. I miss her and the O’Conner’s house has too many memories I would prefer to avoid,” I said, my thoughts jumping back in time.

She laughed and stopped and then laughed again.

“What?” I asked.

“You make me laugh.
It won’t bother you to see a girl on his arm, you claim, but you don’t want to be reminded of memories from a house. A bit contradictory, I would say,” she said with a question in her eyes.

I
wondered if seeing him with a girl would bother me as it used to. I’d watched him go through so many over the years. Distance ultimately had made a relationship between us impossible, yet in a warped way, distance is also what kept our relationship going for so many years. A relationship that consisted of short summer visits, the reason it seemed to work. In small doses, I could handle him. I pictured Mathew’s face, remembered the feel of his kiss, and smiled.
That kiss.

“
I see he can still make you smile,” she teased.

“Ok
ay, enough, Mom,” I said lightly. “Mathew has been out of my life for a long time.”

She grinned at me and I knew what she was thinking. Thinking once I saw him again I might feel differently.

“Will you invite Max?” she asked.

“No
,” I answered decisively. “He wouldn’t come anyway. He hates stuff that involves a bunch of people he doesn’t know. You know how hard it is to get him to come here for dinner.”

“True
,” she said, rolling her head to the side.

She thought it was rude that Max rarely graced my family with his presence. Especially since I
asked…and on holidays, forget it.

“What’s the date
again?” I asked, reaching for the invitation. “I’ll need to get my cocktail shifts covered at the Chart House.”

When she finished prepping for dinner
, she poured us a glass of wine, and we moved out to the back yard. It was a beautiful sunny day, the sky blue and clear, temperature perfect, the smell of juniper was in the air. It made me think of another backyard, but the smell was jasmine, and Mathew had been there. One of the good summers. We sat at the table by the pool and talked about old times with the gang. Memories that both of us had from so many different occasions. Mom and I laughed about certain events; I could hear the joy in her voice as we talked. I was looking forward to seeing them all, and I had to admit, especially Mathew. I heard the gate open and close behind us and turned to see who it was.

“Hey
, Dad,” I said.

“He
y, babe, how are you?” he asked, walking out to us and leaning down to kiss me.

“Good.
Mom and I just sat down. Get a drink and join us.”

H
e loosened the tie from around his neck and took it off. His hair seemed grayer, and I wondered if I had done that to him. Absently I reached towards my scar feeling remorseful.

“I think I’ll get some
thing comfortable on first,” he said, squinting his eyes as he looked across the yard.

“
How was your day?” he asked Mom absently, patting her on the shoulder.

She put her hand on his briefly in acknowledgement
, then he turned and disappeared into the house without waiting for her response. He wasn’t overly affectionate towards her, sort of like Max, like I was just there.

“Another glass?
” Mom asked, getting up with her empty glass in hand.

I handed mine to her.
I could tell she was a tad annoyed by his apparent lack of interest in her day.

“Guess I’m here for the night
,” I said.

I didn’t wa
nt to drive if I was drinking, and I knew Mom and I would have more than one. The accident had cured me there. The three of us sat out back until the sun started to go down and the air got cool, then we moved inside. Pat came home when we were almost finished with dinner and sat down with us. It was like the old days in San Jose when we actually sat down together every night. For some reason, we hadn’t done it much after we moved. These days we usually ate in front of the TV or outside, and many times, one or more of us were missing.

I tried to call Max and got his answering machine
, “this is Max, leave a message”. I waited for the beep and left a message that I was “staying at Mom’s tonight”. He would expect me to be waiting at his house. As I walked down the hall toward the bathroom, I thought about how I liked that he was coming home to no one.
Take that Mr. Out With the Boys; sleep alone.
I was standing in front of the mirror, trying to see the back of my head with a hand mirror when Mom came in. I’d shifted it several different ways, but wasn’t having much luck. I was terrible at using a hand mirror.

“Here
,” she said, taking the mirror and angling it properly.

The wound was still red and angry looking, but my hair had started to grow back in.

“Not too bad, huh? I still have about six weeks before the wedding,” I said.

“
Morgan, you have so much hair you can hide it,” she said, shifting some of my hair.

I watched as she made t
he space disappear. I was grateful that my hair was thick and curly, making it easier to hide the spot around my scar. I glanced at Mom in the mirror.
She was such a pretty lady.
Her dark hair framed her face and curled underneath her chin. Her eyes were large with nicely shaped eyebrows and long eyelashes. I looked from her to me in the mirror and looked at how different we were: I towered over her at five ten; I had blond hair, she had straight, thick black hair; her eyes were green, mine were blue, but our skin was exactly the same. The Indian in her had come out in me over the Irish from Dad. We both have nice olive complexions.

“I only have fifteen hundred
dollars to go to get Max paid back,” I said

“That’s so great
,” she said. “I bet you will be so relieved when that is out of the way.”

“You don’t even know,” I
sighed.

She liked
Max okay, but Dad didn’t very much. He thought he was too controlling. This didn’t surprise me. Dad hadn’t liked the majority of my boyfriends. I chalked it up to no one was good enough for his little girl, or that I really knew how to pick the wrong ones.

“Are you excited about going back to San Jose?” she asked.

“I really am, Mom. I’m ready for a break,” I answered.

“From Max?”

“
Max, work, school, everything,” I said.

I yawned.
Several glasses of wine, on top of a busy day, were adding up. I pushed my hair back from my face.

“I’
m ready for bed.”

Sh
e leaned over and kissed me. She had a way of always making the world seem right. There was a calm she could transfer just by being close.

“I miss you
,” she said, running her hand down my hair, giving it a tug at the end. “I miss having you home every night, seeing your pretty face come through the door. You need to miss me more often. Sleep tight.”

I climbed into my waterbed.
I didn’t really like it any more after Max’s normal mattress; it moved too much. I had thought I was tired, but I couldn’t seem to fall asleep. Mathew kept popping into my head, small snippets from the past, our past. I hadn’t seen him in years, hadn’t even talked to him. The last summer we’d been together was before I started dating Max.

Although we
had been lovers over many years, we’d never defined our relationship as anything other than friends. Distance and being too young had ultimately sealed our fate. I could see us at the beach, his tan skin, blond hair blowing with the breeze, holding hands and laughing, the sand squishing between our toes as we walked. I tried to remember what his touch felt like, a touch that once made me crazy with desire. When I finally drifted off to sleep, I dreamt about him.

Chapter 3

When we arrived in San Jose late afternoon on that Friday, my parents dropped me off at Gayle’s. Gayle had moved in across the street from us when I was eight, and it hadn’t taken us long to become best friends. Growing up, we were inseparable. We counseled each other on everything in life, especially boys. Even though I hadn’t visited San Jose in a long time, we still kept in close contact.

“Have fun tonight.
We’ll pick you up tomorrow around four thirty. Wedding is at five thirty at the Almaden Country Club,” Mom said, leaning out the window.

“I’ll be ready
,” I said, grabbing my suitcase out of the trunk.

I leaned into the car and gave her a kiss.
She smelled good; she had put on a perfume I couldn’t remember the name of that she wore on special occasions, her getting to see her best friend being one.

“
Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad,” I said, shooting him a smile across the inside of the car. “See you, Pat.”

My parents and
Pat were off to Mathew’s parents’ house for the weekend. I was glad it wasn’t a problem, me wanting to stay with Gayle. It still surprised me that our lives had taken completely different paths when she’d disclosed to me at eighteen that she was gay. She’d actually worried that it would change my feelings for her, but it hadn’t. And then there was that move that had taken me so far away. I was pleased to have this chance to catch up with her.

Standing
in her driveway in front of the cute place she shared with a girlfriend, I couldn’t help but feel nostalgic for my childhood. I looked about the mature, if somewhat overgrown neighborhood, which was so like the street she and I grew up on. The large oak trees dotting the hillside reminded me of the ones we had climbed as kids, bringing a smile to my lips. I breathed in a faint scent of jasmine, a fragrance that always reminded me of the Almaden Valley. The sun was hitting the rolling hills behind her house, reflecting their golden color just so. The sensory overload brought so much of my youth rushing back to me, fragments of time clicking through my mind, intensifying my sense of coming home.

“Are you going to just stand there,” Gayle
demanded, interrupting the picture show in my head.

I looked away from the hills to
find her standing in her doorway, arms crossed in front of her. Grinning, I picked up my suitcase and walked toward her. I thought about Mom and when she saw Ann and could feel her same sense of elation.

“Got any wine?” I
teased.

“I’m glad to see you
too,” she said.

She drop
ped her arms then and came to me grabbing me up in a hug. We stood like that swaying.

“It’s been far too long, c
ome in, come in.”

She had bought one of my favorite wines
, and she poured me a glass as we stood in her small kitchen.

“Let’s get comfy in the living room,” she suggested.

I followed her into a room that was cozy; a dark gold velvet like fabric was on the couch with bright throw pillows and a glass topped coffee table. A small rug lay under it setting off the shiny wood floors. We stayed up late, talking, catching up on all the new things going on in our lives. She brought me up to speed on who in San Jose was doing what, who was seeing who, or at least the people she still kept in touch with. She didn’t know much about Mathew, only that his band was still playing around town.

“Tell me about the accident,” she
said finally.

“Oh
, Gayle, it was such bad judgment. Max had asked me not to drive his Blazer, but I caught him in another lie the morning of the reception, and it pissed me off. I saw it as another one of his control issues, and since I like driving his Blazer—and it is more comfortable than my small Honda—well, he wasn’t around when I left for the reception, but his keys were, so I thought
fuck him
I’m taking it. I didn’t know until after the accident it was because he’d cancelled the insurance on it.”

“
It wasn’t insured?” Gayle asked, surprised.

“No, apparently he was in the process of switching companies
. I didn’t know. It’s cost me like four grand to get it fixed. An insurance company would have totaled it,” I said grumpily as I slumped back on the sofa.

Gayle let out a small whistle.

“My anger at Max fueled my staying at the reception with Randy longer than I planned. Well, that and the fact he was dancing with me, up close.”

Gayle’s eyebrow went up.

“I drank more than I should, but I didn’t feel drunk, just buzzed,” I said. “Poor decision.”

“Who’s Randy?”

I adjusted myself on her couch, pulling my legs up sort of Indian style.

“A cute guy that Max isn’t particularly fond of
,” I said with a grin.

Gayle smiled knowin
gly. She knew I liked the boys, especially the good-looking ones.

“I would have thought betw
een my accident and your arrest in high school, you would know better, girl. Have you lost your brain?” Gayle asked.

I winced, remembering the year
Gayle was hit head-on by a drunk driver when we were seventeen. I had come back to San Jose after it happened and spent a month with her that summer. Her injuries had been significant, and I had wanted to be there for her. As we talked about my accident, I again felt guilty that I hadn’t taken more than a few of life’s lessons to heart. That at my age I had acted so irresponsibly.

“What about
Mathew?” she asked.

I
’d dated Mathew that same summer, and he’d broken my heart. His playboy bad behavior had sent me running back to Gayle more than once, to the comfort of her friendship. I remembered the day at the beach on the dirt path, when he’d said we weren’t a couple. I could recall that hurt, how it had ripped through me. I’d refused to see him again that trip and had gone back to Escondido with my heart hurting and he had gone on to Anna.

“What about him
?” I asked innocently.

She furrowed her
brow at me.

“What do you mean
, what about him? Are you excited to see him?” she asked.

“
I look forward to catching up; it’s been a long time since I’ve talked to him. But I can’t go down the old path, Gayle. There’s Max now. The very last summer I was with him was great, but we were eighteen for god’s sake and living in two different cities. I can’t imagine there is anything still there,” I said.

I surely wondered though how I would feel when I saw him again.

“Right answer,” she said sarcastically.

Gayle
had weathered the ups and downs of my years with Mathew. Young love that had overwhelmed me more than once. Gayle liked him well enough, just not necessarily with me. She was my reality check where he was concerned, brutally honest, for I had never been very rational where he was concerned.

              “You look great,” Gayle said as I finished dressing for the wedding the next afternoon.

The teal dress I wore was sheer and it flowed nicely around me when I moved. I bought it for that reason and I knew me in it would catch Mathew’s eye, even if there was a blond on his arm.

“I’m kind of nervous about seeing everyone again, going back in time. You’re sure you won’t come with me?” I begged again.

“
I don’t know those people very well. Listen, you’ll have a great time. You hung out with those families for years. It will be like old home week. Say
hi
to Mathew for me, and don’t let him in,” she cautioned.

Gayle was right.
From the moment we arrived at the wedding, it felt comfortable. My nervousness disappeared almost instantly. People had grown older, but the personalities hadn’t changed.

“Mom
, this is beautiful, isn’t it? It feels so magical. Doesn’t Melanie look gorgeous?” I asked, looking around at the beautifully decorated ballroom.

W
hite tablecloths were draped over the circular tables and flowers were everywhere. The chairs had white covers with large bows on the back, and the tables were beautifully set. It was such a contrast to the reception hall the night of my accident.

“She
does,” she answered, glowing.

Her face was a little flush, her green eyes sparkled
, and her smile was radiant and real. I was happy to see how much she was enjoying every minute of being back in her group.

“Have you and
Dad been having fun with Ann and Brad?” I asked.

“Morgan
, I have missed them so much. Even your dad has been having a good time. I think he realizes how devoid our life is of anything social. Ann and I have laughed and laughed,” she said.

“
I could have guessed that one. What’s Pat been doing?” I asked.

“Han
ging out with his buddies from the old neighborhood. He’s happy to be back too,” she said.

“Mom it’s not
back
, it’s a visit,” I pointed out.

I hated being the reality check for the situation only being temporary.

“I know,” she said sadly. “Being here reminds me how much I miss my old life, almost as if I were another person then. Even your dad and I seemed happier in those days. All the people here have been such a large part of our life: the functions, the trips together. How could I not miss that?” she said mournfully.

“I know
, Mom. Don’t think about it. Have fun, dance, stay up late, be bad,” I teased.

“I love you,” she smiled and hugged me
. “Have you seen Mathew?”

“Not yet,
” I said.

The minu
te I saw Mathew, I knew I was going to do exactly what Gayle had cautioned me against: let him in. I saw him from across the room and watched him as he moved amongst people, greeting and talking. He’d cut his hair shorter, but it was still blond. He was as tan, fit, and handsome as ever. I looked for a girl, a blond around him, but didn’t see one. I saw him toss his head back and laugh at something that was said and felt a tightening in my heart. When he finally turned and saw me, our eyes locked, and he walked directly towards me. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he came across the room. When he got to me, I realized I was holding my breath. He grabbed me in a hug and spun me around.

“Mathew
,” I half-heartedly protested.

He gave me h
is lazy sexy grin and I felt butterflies come alive inside me, as if they had been dormant, just waiting.

“Morgan, you look marvelous,” he said
, putting me down.

I looked
at his face and into his blue eyes. I’d looked into them so many times, on so many levels, and they sucked me in just as they always had.
Oh, I’m in trouble.
I became a little lightheaded, as my old feelings for him rushed at me like a fast moving storm. My thoughts jumped to Max, and I couldn’t conjure up my feelings for him, feelings I had been sure would prevent this from happening.

“Let’s get a table,” he said
smiling.

I looked at his lips and then quickly away.

“Okay,” I managed to get out.

He took my hand
, and I followed him to a table at the back of the room. My head was spinning. I felt emotions spread through me that shouldn’t be there. I remembered the desire, the way he could turn me on just by his look. I pictured him playing his guitar for me. He squeezed my hand and my heart leapt. I was going to have to be very careful.

“This one alright with you?” he asked pulling out a chair for me.

“It’s perfect,” I said, taking a seat.

He sat down in the chair next to me and pulled it closer to mine.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said smiling.

I
ended up spending the entire reception with him. If I broke away for other
hellos
, he would be waiting for me. I realized careful was not in my Mathew vocabulary. We danced almost every song together, and when he took me in his arms for the first slow song, I felt the old fire with a vengeance. It was as if time had stood still where we were concerned, like it had been yesterday that we were together that summer we were eighteen, not years.

“Mathew,” I heard
Mom say behind us.

We turned around
, and Mathew gave her a hug, lifting her too off the floor. She let out a squeal.

“Patty
, it’s so good to see you,” Mathew said.

He launched into questions about how she liked the new house, the people, about new friends; he told her how much An
n missed her. As I watched Mom talk with him, I could see the sadness creep into her eyes.

“She hates it
, Mathew,” I said.

He s
topped, his smile disappearing as he looked from her to me, his eyes uncertain, questioning. I cocked my head and frowned and he seemed to get it. He grinned at me and then turned back to my mom with a big smile; the one that could charm any woman.