Where We Left Off (17 page)

I glanced
at
the clock on the back wall of my classroom. I had five minutes until the first bell would ring. I punched Hattie’s number into my phone as I got my desk ready for the day.

“So you send me straight to voicemail now, huh?” She picked up on the first ring. “That’s the F-you of phone etiquette, you know. I feel like I should be offended.”

“I was driving.”

“Just giving you a hard time. So?” She said it as a question.

“Tell Mom there haven’t been any changes since the last time we spoke.”

“Okay,” Hattie said, her voice
prying
like she was trying to get more from me. “I’ll tell Mom that. But what are you going to tell me?”

Women. For as much as Paul irritated me, we could communicate in grunts alone and knew exactly what the other was attempting to say. Ladies, not so much. “Hattie, I don’t have a lot to tell.”

“Then just tell me a little.”

She wasn’t going to give up. “I met a girl at a bar last night.”

The groan pierced through the phone and I fumbled it from my ear and caught it right before it hit my desk. “Puh-lease, Cliffy. You are
so
not that guy.”

“Exactly what I tried to tell myself.”

“Did
you at least
get her name?”

I paused.

“Please tell me you got her name.”

Students started filtering in, slipping into their desks. I was going to have to wrap this up, but I knew Hattie wouldn’t let me off the hook that easily. “I know it’s not Ana.”

“Oh dear Lord.” She switched into older sister mode instantly. “Okay, we can work with this. Flowers are a first.”

“Already on it.”

“Then maybe chocolates. Or a puppy.”

“Hattie.” I lowered my voice so my students couldn’t hear. Luckily, there was a lot of white noise that went with the start of a school day, and my classroom hummed with activity. “For the record, she was just as willing and into it as I was.”

“Still, puppies are always a good idea.”

“I’m not getting her a puppy.”

She expelled an irritated harrumph. “Okay. No puppy. You have to find out her name, though. You’ll feel much better about the entire situation if you do. I’ll feel much better about you if you do.”

“I’m already on it.”

“Good. And an actual date wouldn’t be a bad idea, either.”

“I can see about that.”

“It’s not a bad thing that you’re putting yourself out there, Heath,” Hattie said. Her voice shifted and it was full of sincerity. “I just don’t think you need to put
all
of it out there.”

I laughed. “Thank you for that advice, Oh Wise One.”

“I’m serious. I don’t want to see you get hurt again. Kayla messed you up, big time, and understandably so.” There was a quiet on the other end of the line that she filled with a slow, measured exhale. “I love you. There are lots of people who love you, including one little girl who is counting on you to show up at her recital next week. Still on for that?”

I smiled, thinking of little Natalie, her shiny tap shoes clicking across the travertine floor the many times she’d practiced and performed at my house. That was one thing Kayla was really good at, supporting the kids in their interests and talents. I knew the divorce has been hard on them, too. Even though I’d made my ex-wife out to be the villain, she still adored those kids and they felt that loss. Everyone felt it.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Good,” Hattie said, satisfied. “And we reserved you two tickets, so feel free to bring this Not Ana chick if you like.”

That was easy.

Not Ana’s name was Monica, as printed on her name badge pinned to her lapel.

“Hey.” Her voice was soft and sexy. She looked up from her desk, almost startled to see me walk through the doors of the trendy salon, but it was a startle filled with anticipation more than surprise.

“Hey.”

A bouquet of peonies and hydrangeas was just to her left and she lifted her slender fingers to toy with the card placed in the arrangement. “Got the flowers. They’re just beautiful, but you didn’t have to send me anything.”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.”

Her smile deepened, those plump lips spreading wide. “
H
.” She eyed the inscription on the card. “Harrison?”

“I wish. That’s way more sophisticated than I deserve.”

“Hank?”

“Nope.” We could be at this all day. “It’s Heath.”

“Heath.” She rolled my name around on her tongue like it was the actual candy bar. “I like that.”

I knew we were in a salon, so by nature everyone spoke in a hushed tone, but her voice was so smooth and sultry that I started thinking
with
my body again and not my brain, which proved to be a bad move for me in the past.

“Listen,” I said as I took a step closer and placed my hands on the desk. “I feel really bad about last night.”

“I don’t.” Monica shook her head. Her blonde hair was wound into a sleek bun and it bobbled back and forth. “I feel really good, actually.”

Those weren’t the kinds of comments that made slowing things down any easier. “Me too, but that’s not me. I’m not the kind of guy that brings home a girl without even knowing her name and then doesn’t call the next morning. And I hate that I’m standing here saying I’m not that guy because so far everything I’ve done just proves that I
am
him.”

Like she was taking in what I’d said, Monica twisted the stem of a flower between her manicured fingers and then shrugged nonchalantly. “Fair enough. That was
Not Ana
and
H
. We’ll let them have last night because I don’t want to forget it altogether. But I’m fine with Monica and Heath having a different start if that’s what you want.”

Was it? Was that what I wanted? Before I had time to think on it, I answered, “That’s what I want.”

“Listen, I get off work tonight at six, but I’ve got some boxes I need help unpacking. Any chance you’re free and feel like a little physical labor? I could take advantage of that body of yours.”

Statements like that were no good for my recent vow to behave. I swallowed thickly. “That’s perfect.”

Monica scribbled something
on
a notepad, ripped off the top sheet, and slid it toward me. “Meet me at this address at seven. I’m looking forward to it.”

I took the paper from her and studied the writing.

As I turned to go, I sneaked a look over my shoulder and caught the small grin accompanied by a flirtatious wink and my stomach went sour, knowing this was all backward, every bit of it.

But honestly, I didn’t even care.

Mallory

“You’re just in time, my dear. The lady of the house has a mouthwatering lasagna in the oven and your finest dollar store wine uncorked and ready to pour.” Boone pulled me from the front stoop into his burly chest, enveloping me in one of his famous bear hugs that reminded me of the ones his son used to give, solid and strong. Old Spice wafted into my nose. It was a woodsy scent that I affiliated with all men his age and it was welcome and comforting in its familiarity. “Once we’re all around the table, I want to hear about every second of your day. No details left out.”

“Mallory, is that you?” I
heard
Sharon’s voice before I saw her peek around the corner. Corbin jutted out on her full hip. He was dressed in a new outfit I didn’t recognize and I realized it must be one of his grandparents’ new purchases. They spoiled that boy of mine rotten, and I was so very grateful for it.

“Hi, Mom.” I walked toward my mother-in-law and Corbin stretched out two chubby arms. His upper half leaned forward and I scooped him into me. “Smells wonderful in here.”

“I do my best.” Sharon shrugged, humbly.

“That’s a lie, my sweet.” Boone deposited a chaste kiss on the crown of his wife’s gray head of hair. “
Stouffer’s
does its best. You do the bare minimum.”

With a devilish grin, Sharon elbowed her husband in his stomach and then whipped him with the checkered dishtowel she had draped over her shoulder. He shrugged away from her attempted assault, but not before he got in a playful swat on her backside.

“Corbin just got up from his nap about twenty minutes ago. He’s been begging for a snack, but I figured he could wait until dinner.”

“That’s perfect.” I followed
my
in-laws
into the heart of the house, where it opened up into a large family room with overstuffed, distressed leather couches and chairs. The ceiling vaulted steeply and exposed wood beams slanted across the pitch of it. There was a stone fireplace that stretched two stories high and even though it was hot out and no fire currently blazed in the hearth, the room felt just as warm and inviting as it did on a cozy winter’s day.

“Tara said they went to the park and his music class down at the church this morning. Apparently his girlfriend, Lizzy, was quite the flirt today, slobbering all over our little guy.”

I turned Corbin around in my arms to look into his sweet blue eyes. “Is that so?” I teased. “We can’t have any of that, now can we? Much too young to have girls chasing after you.”

Corbin gurgled and babbled on cue.

From the dining room, I heard Boone click the tray off the highchair and then he came walking toward me, hands flapping in a “give it here” sort of way. Corbin all but dove into his grandpa’s arms, but not before I smothered him with a kiss on his cheek.

“Let’s leave the women to the kitchen where they belong.”

“Thomas Boone Quinn! You are fixing to sleep on the couch tonight!” Sharon yelled.

“Don’t let the angry one scare you, my boy. She’s more bark than bite.”

Sharon looked at me and rolled her eyes. “God bless him,” she muttered as she retrieved a bottle of merlot from the counter. Her dark eyes raised as if asking if I’d like a glass and I nodded my answer. “He’d be lost without me.” She smiled as she withdrew two glasses from the cupboard and poured them full of the dark purple liquid. She slid one my way as I retrieved a barstool under the counter to sit down.

“Good first day?”

I took a sip and immediately felt a warm tingle
seep
into my body. There was nothing like a glass of wine at the end of a long day. “It really was.” I thought back on the things I’d learned, the new people I’d met, and the hopeful opportunity before me at the florist. “Truly.”

“That seems to be the case for you lately, Mallory. More good days than bad.”

If anyone had the right to speak about something like this, it was Sharon. I may have lost my husband, but she’d lost her eldest child, her only son. I recognized the good days for her, too, the ones where her eyes were a little less swollen, her tone a little less soft and far off, like she longed for someplace else. But there was heartbreak in the good days, underneath the layers of happiness. Moving on held its own sorrow, maybe not in equal part, but it was there, shrouded in guilt. I often felt guilty for feeling good.

I took another slow drink from my glass.

“I wanted to ask if it would be okay if we had Corbin overnight one of these nights. Boone finished with the crib last week and I finally sewed the bumper for it.” She looked into my eyes and tilted her head. “I understand if you’re not ready to be away from him for that long.” She lingered on her words a moment before saying, “I know it will be hard to be home alone in the house.”

I shook my head, too quickly. “No, of course. It’s fine. In fact, I think he’d love that. Staying over at Grandma and Grampy’s, waking up and watching cartoons.” Of course I knew an eight-month-old was too young for Saturday morning television, but I was trying to convince myself that it was for his best to spend more time with his grandparents. It was, I knew that. He needed more than just me.

“It doesn’t have to be anytime soon. Just know that we’re here, and maybe a little break might be good for you.”

I reached across the counter for Sharon’s hand. “I appreciate that, I do. I love you guys.” Without warning, a tear skated down my cheek. They had a way of doing that, of escaping one by one. It was like they were always right there at the edge of the dam, just waiting to make their way out and ambush me.