Mia Like Crazy (18 page)

When I returned to Meridith’s house, she led me to the kitchen, where I told her what I had learned that day.

“According to the family members, when your father was a young man, he became acquainted with their grandfather, befriended him and tricked him into signing over the property. They don’t think any money changed hands. Your father apparently believed there was something of value underground, but it didn’t pan out. They don’t seem to have proof of any of this—it’s all family legend—and they don’t appear to have the money to litigate.”

“What was your impression of them?” Meridith asked, waving me toward one of the stools at the island.

“They seem to be honest country people who want their family legacy in one piece.”

“Tea time,” she said as she pulled the cups from the cupboard. Then she turned to me. “I don’t have any need for the property. I want to give it to them.”

“Just like that?”

“Mia, I inherited ninety million dollars through no effort of my own. I have no way of knowing how much of it was ill-gotten gain, and, regardless, I see no reason to be a glutton. Can you fix it up?”

“Sure. I really want to thank you for getting me out of the house today.”

Meredith set the two steaming cups on the counter and slid onto the stool next to me. “Are you ready to talk about it, now?”

I couldn’t resist the sympathetic ear Drew’s sister offered. I poured my heart out about all the mixed messages I’d been getting from him and the frustration of existing the way we were.

“I can’t live like this. I need caring and respect and…physical contact. He isn’t even putting forth an effort.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“Whatever I want,” I said. “If I feel like going out, I’m going out. If I feel like moving out, I’m moving out. I’m not going to sit around every night brooding about Drew. It’s not good for me Meri. He’s not the only one in a precarious emotional state.”

“Mia, can I ask you to give it one more try?” Meridith asked. She swirled honey around an odd wooden utensil and let it trickle into her mug. “Talk to him honestly, bluntly. Because you never know if he’s taking cues like a normal person.”

I rested my chin on my hand. “No kidding. I’ve never had so much trouble figuring someone out. He cooks me meals and treats me like a queen and then seems repulsed by me.”

“I know he cares about you, Mia. He wants you around. I’ve never seen him go to so much trouble for anyone.” She sipped her tea, then reached for the honey again. “I know the love is in there, but you may have to make all the overtures.”

“Why do you think he has such an aversion to being touched?”

“Oh, I can tell you first hand. Drew and I both grew up in households where our mothers were dead and our fathers were abusive. I think the only time Drew’s father touched him was when he was hurting him. Drew relates the sense of touch to anger and pain. It’s hard for him to separate the two.”

I watched the steam rise from my cup, wondering if Drew and I could ever possibly make this work. “You seem so normal, Meridith. How did you do it?”

“With fifteen thousand dollars-worth of psychotherapy and two children needing hugs and kisses every day. It can be done.”

~

Meridith lent me her cutest car to drive home. It was a red mustang convertible and I felt great with my hair blowing in the cool wind and the setting sun on my face. I grew so optimistic, I decided I’d give it one last try with Drew.

When I walked in the door, he was sitting on the couch with the TV on. I sat down next to him.

“What are you watching?” I asked cheerfully.

“Where have you been?”

“I had some work to do.”

He continued to stare at the television. “You could have let me know where you were so I wouldn’t worry.”

Still full of bravado and optimism, I stood up from my spot on the sofa, stepped directly in front of Drew, sat down in his lap, and put one arm around his shoulders. He was tense, as usual, but I ignored that fact, and brought my other arm around the front of him, linking the fingers of my hands together. “So you were worried about me?”

“I didn’t say that,” he answered. “Where were you?”

“You
did
say that, a minute ago. Anyway, I was doing some lawyering for Meridith.”

“She has plenty of lawyers.”

“But she wanted
me
,” I said arrogantly. “I want to talk to you about something else. I want to talk about our relationship.”

I watched his jaw tense. “Why do we need to talk about it? Talking is overrated.”

“Drew, I really don’t think I can live like this anymore. I’m losing my self-confidence. I’m lonely. I need you, but you’re only there for me in bits and pieces, whenever
you
feel like it.”

He picked me up and put me back on the couch next to him. “I don’t understand you, Mia. I’ve tried to give you everything.”

I looked directly into his eyes. “Not
everything
.”

He jumped up from the sofa, suddenly angry. “So what are you saying?” he demanded. “Are you leaving me now?”

I followed suit, on my feet instantly, ready to rumble. “Do you want me to leave?”

“You do whatever you want to do. You’re a grownup, remember?”

“Yes, you’re right. I am a grownup, and I should be doing things grownups do!”

I’d had enough. I raced up the stairs and headed straight for my closet, pulling out the sexiest thing I owned. It was a low cut, fitted little black dress, purchased to try to seduce Drew, but I’d obviously been fooling myself with that idea.

I dressed quickly, put on my highest heels and more makeup than I usually wore. Before I left my room, I bent over at the waist and brushed my hair down toward the floor. I flipped it back and made a few adjustments before grabbing a clutch purse and leaving the room.

I passed Drew on the stairs and saw the look of raw fear in his eyes, but I’d already hardened my heart in anticipation of it.

When I picked up Meridith’s car keys, he found his voice. “Where are you going?” I noticed the demanding tone was gone.

“Wherever I can find a drink and a good time,” I answered coldly. I opened the door and left.

I sat in the parking garage for several minutes in Meridith’s car, knowing I really didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to go anywhere without Drew. But he didn’t want to be with me, so, I was going to enjoy myself if it killed me. Recalling a nightclub a few blocks away, I drove straight there and went in.

~

When I walked into the club, I immediately
knew I didn’t
want to be there. I’d never gone to a place like this alone in my life. If I wasn’t with a date or acquaintances from school or work, I’d preferred to stay home alone.

Within the safety my companions provided, it was flattering to be noticed by men. Now I felt
uncomfortably “on display.” I
sat down at the bar and asked for a margarita.

The bartender set two large drinks in front of me. “It’s happy hour,” he explained.

I’d never been a big drinker because I’d always worried I’d have too much and “slip up.” I’d carefully maintained a vague background, in college, law school, and at the firm. When I was asked personal questions, I gave pat answers that sounded normal and avoided raising suspicions. There was no way I’d wanted to jeopardize all that work by allowing myself to get tipsy.

But as I sat at the bar staring at the drinks, I wondered what I had to lose at this point. I’d married an ex-con for three million dollars.

Although I was in love with him, he obviously didn’t love or want me enough to try to make the marriage work. I was unemployed and had no family to speak of. If anyone deserved a drink—or two—it was me. I took a sip.

I knew the normal thing to do in a place like this was to scope out the clientele of the opposite sex, but I couldn’t bring myself to lift my eyes from the glass in front of me. Before I knew it, the first drink was gone, and I slid it out of the way and started on the next one.

As I looked down at my left hand where my rings should have been, I wished I hadn’t taken them off and left them in plain sight on my dresser. What if Drew saw them?

Drew? Why am I so worried about his feelings? Does he really worry about mine?

I gulped down half of my second Margarita. A relaxing sensation flowed through me and my tongue felt a little numb.

The bartender set two more drinks in front of me. “I didn’t order these,” I said argumentatively.

“That guy over there sent ‘em to you.” The bartender pointed toward a man sitting at a nearby table.

I realized I had already forgotten that an attractive woman in a bar didn’t have to buy her own drinks. In fact, living with Drew, I’d almost forgotten I was an attractive woman.

I picked up a glass and toasted my benefactor. He was handsome, late twenties or early thirties, and he was smiling at me with his pretty, straight teeth.

Now that’s the kind of man I should be with.
I finished off the second drink and started on the third.
A man who smiles…and wears colors.
I grinned at my silly inside joke. The nice-looking man took it as an invitation and approached me.

“Hi, I’m Lance.”

I laughed. “Lance? Really? That’s a fake name you use in bars to turn ditsy women on, isn’t it?” My words sounded funny coming out of my mouth.

“No, my mother actually named me that. Do you want to see my driver’s license?” he asked good-naturedly.

“Oh, sorry. No, I’ll take your word for it.” I was embarrassed I’d made fun of the smiling man’s name. I decided to give him a compliment to make up for it. “That’s a nice shirt you’re wearing.”

“Thanks,” he said, “I picked it out all by myself.”

“It’s blue,” I pointed out. “I like men who wear boo shirts…I mean blue shirts.”

He chuckled. “You’re drinking like a woman who’s trying to forget.”

“Forget what?” I dissolved into laughter. Gee, why didn’t I drink all the time? I was hilarious.

Lance sat down next to me and we talked for over an hour. I guess I was pretty out of it because I threw caution to the wind and exchanged phone numbers with him.

I never mentioned Drew, and tried to remember all the answers I used to give to people back when I was my old self. As I listened to Lance, I tried to feel some attraction for him. As perfect as he was, and as tipsy as I was, I couldn’t make myself feel the kind of yearning I felt every time I thought of Drew.

I pushed him out of my mind again. Lance was in corporate sales. A people person. I was sure he didn’t lock himself in his apartment for days and refuse to open the door.
Back to Drew again!

As I
tried to refocus my thoughts onto whatever Lance was saying, I was thinking I’d never had so much trouble keeping up with a conversation. He was talking about his car being in the parking lot.

I decided I must have agreed to go somewhere with him because he was leading me out of the club. He helped me into his car. Everything was kind of a blur, and I was getting really sleepy. Lance started talking again, but this time his voice was lower, more seductive.

“Mia.” He caressed the side of my face. I realized my eyes were closed. “I’ve had a really good time with you tonight.”