At Peace

  Like when Sam was there, Joe took Tim’s seat and this hit me hard too. Minutes later, it hit me harder because the girls again didn’t seem to mind. They acted like Joe sat there all the time. They didn’t act like this was strange or uncomfortable. They were animated, talkative, not desperately so, naturally, even Kate.

  And as we settled into eating, I found I liked this, like I liked it when Tim was alive and we had pancake Sunday. Family sitting around the table, eating, talking about the week they had, the week to come.

  Joe also seemed at ease. Not talkative, Joe wasn’t talkative but, in his mostly non-verbal way, he encouraged the girls to do it.

  Keira I knew had designs on Joe for me because she liked him and she wanted him to know she liked him. Therefore she chatted enthusiastically with Joe about every subject under the sun. None of these subjects Joe had even a hint of interest in, he couldn’t, it was teenage girl stuff, but he never let on that he didn’t.

  It was Kate who surprised me. When she got to talking about some of the bands she liked, Joe told her he knew their music, he hadn’t met them like The Buckley Boys, but he listened to the bands she liked. I could tell he liked Kate’s taste and I could tell Kate liked this music, more than I expected. She was really into it and she enjoyed sharing that with Joe since he liked their music too. But it was more, she seemed to take his approval of her taste as praise and she blossomed under it, I saw her do it right over pancakes.

  Joe left, we did the dishes and, as the girls got ready for their day, I searched for the key to the sliding glass door. I found it in the junk drawer in the kitchen, having no clue how it got there since keys went on the hook by the side door, but I suspected Keira was the culprit mostly because she always was.

  Before I went to work, I took it over to Joe’s.

  I knocked on his front door, wanting to give the impression, should anyone be watching, that this was a friendly neighborly visit, rather than getting caught by someone while I snuck around the back which would indicate a very friendly neighborly visit.

  When Joe opened the door he was wearing nothing but loose athletic shorts and expensive looking running shoes and he was sweating a lot. He destroyed my neighborly visit ploy by grabbing my hand, yanking me into the house and slamming the door.

  I saw a bunch of weights in the living room I hadn’t noticed before, a weight bench pulled into the center of the room. He was working out.

  Um… yum.

  I looked from the bench to him and, holding the key up between us, I said, “Key.”

  His hand closed on the key, his other hand nabbed me around the back of my neck, his head came down and he kissed me, hard and long.

  I was breathing heavily, my hands on his sweat slicked chest when his head came up.

  “Great pancakes, buddy,” he murmured then let me go, turned away and walked to the kitchen like he hadn’t just laid a huge kiss on me, one that made my knees weak and my breath heavy.

  I tried to get my head together and my body under control as I heard the key hit his kitchen counter, he went back to the weight bench and grabbed a bottle of water. He tipped his head back to take a long swallow and I walked to his kitchen, washed his sweat from my hands and then walked to the front door.

  “Bye, Joe,” I called, my hand at the door and his eyes hit me.

  “Tonight, buddy,” was his farewell.

  I nodded and walked to my car.

  I was getting in deep and I knew it. I liked him and I liked him more every time I was with him. Now I liked that my girls obviously liked him.

  But that wasn’t where it could go, not for Joe who was happy with me sleeping in his bed after I’d been out on a date with another guy, something I wasn’t happy with, something that hurt.

  And I knew it would never go there unless I fixed him and I had no idea how to fix him but I had the strong suspicion that trying would be even more heartbreaking because I suspected, no matter what I tried, I’d fail. It might even be devastating when I failed, not only for me, but for my girls who’d said a lot when they cooked Joe bacon.

  I looked at my purse, reached out and pulled out my cell.

  Then I continued on my path of doing stupid, crazy, selfish shit that made me a bad person.

  I slid it open, scrolled down to “Mike’s cell”, a number I’d programmed into my phone after he called me the first time. Then I hit go.

  It rang once, only once, when Mike answered.

  “You all right?” he asked as a greeting.

  He knew about the box.

  “You know about the box,” I said just to confirm.

  “Colt called. I’m at the Station now. They’re goin’ over it for prints.”

  Shit. He’d gone into the Station on his day off because he heard about my box.

  “They find anything?” I asked.

  “They’ve lifted a few, gotta put them in the system.”

  “Okay.”

  “You all right?” Mike repeated.

  “No.”

  His voice was gentle when he said, “Sweetheart.”

  I sighed into the phone.

  “Where are you now?” he asked.

  “What?” I asked back.

  “I’ll come get you. We’ll go get lunch or a coffee at Mimi’s or somethin’.”

  He didn’t want me to be alone and freaked, more clear cut evidence he was a nice guy, a good guy, maybe a great guy. More clear cut evidence that I was a terrible person, keeping him on a string instead of cutting him loose until I figured out where my head was at and could give him what Joe called “a clear run”.

  “I’m at the garden center, I have an afternoon shift,” I told him.

  “I’ll come over tonight,” he told me.

  I closed my eyes and sighed again.

  I didn’t need Joe at the breakfast table and Mike at the dinner table. Further, my girls didn’t need that.

  “As far’s I know, both girls are home tonight, Mike, and I’m not sure they’re ready for that,” I said softly.

  “Your call, sweetheart, but you want company or need to talk, you know how to find me.”

  “Thanks, um… actually, that’s why I’m calling.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well,” I started, “see, I haven’t told the girls about the box and I don’t know if I should. They saw the flowers but they don’t know about the box. They acted okay after the initial freak out of the flowers but I know it bothered them. Nothing’s happened in awhile and back home in Chicago, the flowers, gifts and visits were regular. They might think it’s tailing off and, well…” I closed my eyes tight again then opened them and finished, “I’m a Mom, Mike, I don’t want them to have to worry about this but I don’t want them to forget to be vigilant or to be angry with me that I kept this from them. They’re not adults but they’re not young anymore. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Don’t tell them,” Mike advised immediately and I blinked at this advice, which was contradictory to Joe’s.

  “You think?”

  “This shit was goin’ down with Audrey, I’d tell Jonas, but no way in hell I’d tell Clarisse.”

  “Why not?”

  “Know you’re strong, figure you got strong girls, you’ve all been through a lot. But girls are girls, boys are boys. Jonas would want to do his bit, even if it couldn’t be much, to take care of his Mom. He’s gotta learn to be a man and, you’re unlucky enough that shit like this comes up, that’s the way you learn. Clarisse needs her head filled with thoughts about butterflies and teenage vampires for as long as she can think about butterflies and teenage vampires.”

  Like Kate and Keira were to Tim, Clarisse was Daddy’s Little Girl.

  I felt my stomach flutter.

  But I said, “That’s kinda sexist, Mike.”

  He didn’t take offense, mainly because he didn’t agree with me and he thought he was right.

  I knew this because he said firmly, “That’s the way it is, honey.”

  I didn’t reply as
it hit me. I’d asked him because he was Mike, he was a parent but I also asked him because his opinion would likely be the same as what Tim’s opinion would be if he’d been alive. He might not know my girls like Joe did, but it was important to me to know what Tim would do and Mike just told me. It was good to know, except now I was more confused than ever at what to do with the girls because, even knowing, I wasn’t certain I agreed. It wasn’t like I agreed with everything Tim thought either.

  Mike went on. “But, I don’t know your girls. You gotta do whatever you think is right, and Vi?” he called my name and stopped talking.

  “Yeah?”

  “Whatever you do will be right, sweetheart.”

  I felt tears fill my eyes because this, just this, was exactly what I needed to hear and I whispered, “Thanks, honey.”

  “I wanna see you, make sure you’re all right. I’ll stop by Bobbie’s sometime today.”

  “Okay,” I agreed immediately, selfishly and stupidly.

  “Got the kids this week, but they’re all over the place all the time so I could take you to Frank’s one night this week.”

  “I don’t know my schedule, my brother and his girlfriend are coming into town next weekend and I’ve gotta ask Bobbie for a change.”

  “Find out, you can tell me when I stop by.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, again immediately, selfishly and stupidly then I said, “I have to get to work.”

  “All right, I’ll let you go,” he replied then said softly, “Hang in there, honey.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Later, sweetheart.”

  “Later, Mike.”

  I slid my phone shut and tapped it on my forehead.

  Then I dropped it in my purse, unlocked my doors and hurried into work.

  * * * * *

  After work, I walked into J&J’s.

  My girls were out for the evening, Kate with Dane, Keira with a pack of friends who’d scheduled a last minute movie that one of her friends’ Dad’s was crazy enough to take a pack of girls to. I had my visit from Mike at the Garden Center and we’d set dinner for Tuesday. Bobbie cleared me for the weekend, I had Sunday off anyway and she knew she’d been leaning on me a lot. I never asked for anything so she rearranged the schedule and gave me the time I needed.

  Now with a clear night, I decided I needed girlfriend advice.

  I’d thought to go home, pour a glass of wine and call one of my friends in Chicago. I was closer to them obviously, though our communication via e-mail, texts and phone calls had trailed off as well when my job went full-time, not to mention overtime. But they knew me, most of them for ages, and they’d give good advice.

  But they all also knew Tim and loved him and I wasn’t certain how they’d feel about me moving on, especially how I was doing that. They were my friends, they’d want to help, I knew that, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t share this, what was happening, how I was behaving and I was worried how they’d react and what they’d think of me.

  And they didn’t know Joe.

  Feb, her sister-in-law Dee and Cheryl were all working, as was Darryl and I was relieved that both Feb and Cheryl were there. Perfect.

  “How’s tricks, babe?” Cheryl called as I walked down to Colt’s end of the bar and sat on the stool next to his empty one.

  “In-freaking-sane,” I told her honestly, her eyes got big, Dee and Feb were also both looking at me and the minute I said this they moved as a pack to my end of the bar.

  It was Sunday at J&J’s, a Sunday in the summer. There were a few people in, not many, regulars who couldn’t care less if it was summer and sunny. They were, as usual, camped out for the long haul.

  “You want a drink?” Dee asked me when she hit my end of the bar.

  “Diet Coke,” I answered.

  “Girl, your face says shot of tequila,” Cheryl noted, staring at me closely.

  “That bad?” I asked.

  Feb leaned her elbows on the bar and looked into my eyes. “What’s up, Vi? Is it the box?”

  Colt had told Feb about the box too. I wasn’t surprised. Tim had told me everything about work. I didn’t know if this was allowed and I never asked because I didn’t want him to think he needed to stop but I never breathed a word to anyone about anything he said. The shit he saw, the shit people did, he had to let it go and I was that sponge that could soak it out of him, find a way to ring myself dry but let him go back to work feeling clean.

  “No, not really, it’s…” I looked at the three of them. I didn’t know Dee all that well but I couldn’t exactly ask her to take a hike. This was her bar.

  But I couldn’t stay locked in my head anymore.

  I needed to unlock the door and head out but before I did that, I needed direction.

  So the minute Dee placed my Diet Coke on the bar, I started talking and I told them everything, in somewhat explicit detail, about Joe and me; Mike and me; Joe and the girls; Mike and his house, dog and being a good guy; Joe’s terrible history and our fucked up status; Mike’s not-as-terrible but still-not-great history and our confusing status.

  By the time I was done talking, all three were leaning toward me, their forearms on the bar.

  “Lose the neighbor,” Cheryl advised the minute I stopped speaking.

  Feb’s head turned to her, Cheryl sandwiched shoulder to shoulder in the middle of her and Dee, and her eyebrows shot up when she asked, “What?”

  “Not worth it,” Cheryl decreed, “been there, done that, got the fuckin’ t-shirt and it didn’t fit so I threw the motherfucker out.”

  “Cal’s a good guy,” Feb stated.

  “Yeah, he is and he’s provin’ that. Still, he’s fucked up and a man stays fucked up for seventeen years, even Wonder Woman couldn’t fix his shit,” Cheryl replied.

  “I’ve heard that story and, Cheryl, girl, you gotta admit, there’s a reason that kind of thing would fuck him up for seventeen years,” Dee put in.

  “Yeah, not sayin’ that. Story breaks my heart and I barely know the guy. But Vi’s got other priorities and I orchestrated a come to Jesus, not to mention, Mike asked her out right in front of him. He had no reaction, he’s happy for her to play the field, a man like that?” Cheryl flipped her hand out. “He’s stayin’ stuck in his hole and he ain’t goin’ nowhere,” she asserted.

  Feb’s eyes came to me. “A good woman puts in the effort, knowin’ Cal, she might get a helluva reward.”

  “She might get her heart busted too,” Cheryl returned and Feb looked at her.

  “I think, what he did with this Bonnie, if he’s got a good woman, that kind of energy he gave to Bonnie turned to her and her kids and it was for good things, not somethin’ like keepin’ a junkie clean, Cheryl, can you imagine?” Feb asked.

  “Yeah, I can and I have and it isn’t imagination, Feb, trust me, babe, it’s fantasy land,” Cheryl shot back.

  “Morrie likes Cal,” Dee said. “So does Jack. Jack thinks he’s the shit. I heard him say once that, even when Cal was a kid he was sharp as a tack, damn near a genius. Said it was a waste, kid that intelligent was bein’ raised by a drunk. Said Cal had it better growin’ up, he’d be in a different place right now.”

  This both surprised me and didn’t. I had an inkling that Joe was more than Joe let on he was because he was very wise, had a secretary, casually valet parked his car, owned a place in Florida and everyone knew the kind of clientele he had. People like that didn’t call on any average guy to set up their systems for them. They called on the best because they could afford to pay for the best.

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” Cheryl asked. “Morrie and Jack like Mike too.”

  “Just pointing out the facts,” Dee replied.

  “Fact is, he’s hot. Fact is, he’s got a thing for Vi that runs deep enough for him to do what he’ll allow himself to do to take care of her and her girls. And the fact is, what he’ll allow himself to do is not what she needs,” Cheryl retorted to Dee and looked at me. “You got one life and the
minute you popped out those babies, you gave yourself one priority in that life. You take care of you. If you take care of you then the rest will slot into place for those girls. They’ll learn, watchin’ you, that they gotta put themselves first, do what’s right for their peace of mind, find out what they need and settle for nothin’ less. Trust me on this, Vi, ‘cause I’ve lived the nightmare. You can’t live your life for someone else, you can’t go out there fixin’ all the men whose hearts are broken. That’s livin’ for someone else when you gotta be livin’ for you.” She leaned further into me and said softly, “You came in here knowin’ the answer to your question, babe, and you know it. He’s sexy as all hell, he makes you feel good and he gives it to you regular. You like it but that’s all you’re gonna get and you had everything once, you know how that feels and you also know you won’t settle for less.”

  I just stared at her, silent. Not that I was participating in the conversation but I had nothing to say.

  Because I knew she was right.

  She kept talking. “You play with him as long as you want, your gut will tell you when the time is up. And you’re doin’ right, keepin’ Mike on that string. He’s hot too and gorgeous and you don’t want him to move on while you’re sorting your head out. You want him right where he needs to be when you’re ready to reel him in.”

  “That’s selfish,” I whispered.

  “That’s lookin’ out for you. Not one fuckin’ thing selfish about that and, you been honest, he knows the score and he told you flat out he’s willin’ to hang around. And he’s willin’ ‘cause he ain’t stupid. He knows what kind of woman you are and he knows in the end, you’re gonna be with him and his dog in that big, ole, six thousand dollar bed and he’s happy to wait. When your sexy neighbor doesn’t flinch at a man askin’ you out right in front of him, what’s that tell you about Mike?” Cheryl ended on a question.

  I licked my lips, dropped my head and stared at my Diet Coke because I knew what that told me about Mike. Cheryl was right. I knew all of this before walking into the bar.