Soaring

  “Hey, Lawrie. You free?”

  “I’m at work but for you I’m always free.”

  I was not surprised he was at work, seeing as it was earlier there, not to mention the fact that, since both his boys were old enough to drive and go off and do their own things, my brother stopped working constantly and started working constantly in order to escape his wife.

  I was also not surprised he would make himself free for me. In my life, after I’d found that Conrad didn’t, Lawr was the only one who loved me demonstrably and unreservedly.

  “Listen,” I began. “Conrad called tonight and he asked me to ask you to quit badgering him.”

  I heard Lawr hoot before he replied, “Jesus, that guy’s an asshole. I called him twice, MeeMee. The first call lasted two minutes before he hung up on me. The second was right after that where he answered and I shared he was a dick before I hung up on him. That’s not badgering.”

  He would know badgering. He was an attorney.

  “I figured it was something like that,” I muttered, then clearer, I said, “He’s blaming me, so I appreciate you sticking up for me, but I’d prefer you stopped doing it.”

  “He mention the kids?” Lawr asked.

  “No. Why?” I asked back, my neck muscles tightening.

  “I called them too.”

  I stared at my reflection in the window. “I’m sorry?”

  “Told them to cut you some slack. Told your son that you don’t have anybody since his father tore apart your family so he was up to bat and had to take care of his mother. Told your daughter she had one good female role model in her life and she was going to blow it if she lost that.”

  So that was why they spoke to me. Because their Uncle Lawrie, who they both loved, adored and respected, had called them and laid it out.

  God, I loved my brother.

  “Should have done that years ago,” he murmured.

  “They were a lot better at the last visit,” I told him.

  “Good,” he said softly.

  “Kinda shocking, you being a pain in the behind big brother for twenty years then turning out to be so cool when you’re nearly fifty.”

  “Shut up, MeeMee,” he returned, a smile in his voice.

  I smiled at my reflection and asked, “Do you have more time?”

  “Are you my MeeMee?”

  God, I loved my brother.

  “I am,” I confirmed.

  “Sock it to me, sweetheart,” he invited.

  That was when I started pacing again because I did. I socked it to him and told him everything—absolutely everything—about Mickey.

  This took a while. There was a lot of pacing. I was still in my slingbacks and it would be a lot later when I would come to the happy realization I could walk that much in them and they’d still be comfortable even being new shoes I’d never worn.

  When I was done telling my brother everything, I stopped, wrapped my free arm around my belly, stared at my toes and asked, “So? Is Pippa right? Is this guy into me?”

  At that, I heard Lawr burst out laughing.

  My head came up. “What’s funny?”

  “Is this guy into you?” Lawr asked my question back to me, his deep voice still vibrating with humor.

  “That’s the question and in my current circumstances, I don’t find anything funny,” I snapped.

  “Right.” That word sounded kind of strangled, like he was choking back laughter, and he still hadn’t quite done it when he went on, “I’ll confirm a fourteen-year-old girl’s keen perception of the way of things with you and this guy are even though she witnessed you with him for all of five minutes. Amelia, this guy is into you.”

  I felt shivers trail over my skin at his confirmation and his emphasis.

  But my voice was an octave higher when I asked, “How can that be? For weeks, we’ve hardly exchanged a pleasant word.”

  I barely finished speaking before Lawr launched right in. “First, a guy might see a man in a woman’s face and intervene, but he will not offer to help her around the house unless he likes what he sees.”

  “That’s impossible, Lawrie. I hadn’t even had my hair highlighted then,” I informed him.

  Lawr ignored that and continued, “He also doesn’t give a shit she’s running herself into the ground doing some house sale, so he certainly doesn’t ask her over for a barbeque to help her relax.”

  “When you do something like that with children involved, and you’re interested in the woman you’re inviting, it requires planning,” I shared haughtily. “Mickey’s invitation was near on spur of the moment.”

  Lawr kept ignoring me. “And if he’s not interested and his daughter asks for her recipes, or wants her over for dinner, he tells his daughter to go over herself and get them and he finds a way to say she can’t come over for dinner.”

  “He doesn’t have full custody of them, Lawrie,” I reminded him. “So she’s not around all the time. And she’s sweet. She’s a hard girl to say no to.”

  My brother again ignored me.

  “And bottom line, a man does not lose his mind every time another man is anywhere near this woman if he doesn’t want her for his. He doesn’t expend the energy to fight with her because if he doesn’t give a shit, he wouldn’t bother. But in his case, he was fighting with you instead of doing what he really wants to do with you. And he sure as fuck doesn’t shove her into an alcove in a restaurant and kiss her, infuriated she’s out on a date. And I’ll say that also saying I know your age, I know you’ve been married and have kids, but I’m talking about a man shoving my little sister into an alcove and kissing her and I’m doing it under duress.”

  I almost smiled at that.

  But I didn’t.

  Lawr carried on, “I’m also doing it saying that was a bold move, and commendable, if the woman he wants is stubborn and irascible, like you are, he’d reached the end of his control, and the time had come where he needed to make his play.”

  I moved to the window and leaned a shoulder against it, dropping the side of my head to the glass, eyes out to the dark sea, ignoring his comment about me being stubborn and irascible, because we both knew I was so there was no use discussing it.

  “He told me I’m…attractive,” I whispered.

  He understood that and I knew it by the tender tone of his response. “Can’t call that one, MeeMee. Maybe denial. But this guy’s actions aren’t speaking louder than words. They’re shouting. He likes you.”

  I closed my eyes. “I’m a whackjob.”

  “What?”

  I opened my eyes. “What happens when he finds out how I lost it with Martine and Conrad? How I lost my kids? If he really likes me and something happens between us, he’ll eventually find out.”

  “That you loved someone, lost them and acted out?” Lawr asked. “MeeMee, I know Mom and Dad wanted us both to be perfectly programmed automatons, but you’re human. Give yourself a break. This guy sounds like a good dad. He sounds like he’s responsible. He sounds like his ex-wife put him through the wringer and he made it to the other side while guiding his kids there. He sounds like he knows practically nothing about your situation and has a better lock on it than you do. Give him a break too. Life is life and it’s happened to this guy just like it’s happened to you. He’s going to get it. But I’ll tell you this, if he learns that about you and runs a mile, that says more about him than it does about you.”

  “I wish you were closer,” I blurted, and I really did.

  I loved my brother, my kids loved their uncle, he was the only real family I had (outside my kids), and I wanted to be in a position to see him happy and do something about it.

  This would mean me conniving to break him up with the witch he called a wife but I wasn’t above that, absolutely not.

  I’d proved I’d do anything in the name of love.

  In fact, I’d wanted to fix him up with Robin for a long time. When she wasn’t being scary and wreaking vengeance, she was sweet, funny, and above all, loyal. An
d whenever Robin and Lawrie were together, he was always being droll and hilarious, this aimed often at Robin, and she was always laughing and being suggestive, and this was aimed at Lawr but mostly it was aimed at the witch because Robin hated Lawrie’s wife just as much as me.

  Hmm.

  “I’ll come out and visit,” Lawr told me.

  “Thanksgiving,” I said instantly.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Leave the witch, bring the boys,” I said with no hesitancy.

  I was straight with Lawr, Lawr was straight with me. He knew I didn’t like her. He also knew (since he told me) that their marriage was over and he was holding it together, supposedly for the boys.

  But I suspected, after telling my father to shove his billion dollar company up his ass and going into the law (a profession Lawr had always been fascinated with), he’d exhausted his rebellion, so divorce was out of the question.

  “I’ll think about that too.”

  I blinked.

  Lawr had never considered something like that.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Maybe experiencing my little sister fighting for happy is teaching me something.”

  Oh God.

  That would be wonderful.

  “I won’t jump on that, push it and do it while flipping cartwheels,” I promised.

  “Good, because you’re on the phone with me and if you did that, you’d have to do it one-handed and you might break your neck, which would mean a date with this guy would be postponed indefinitely.”

  A date with Mickey.

  More shivers.

  “Perhaps Robin is free for Thanksgiving,” I mused.

  “Christ, what’d you say about pushing?” Lawr asked.

  “I’ll stop talking,” I offered.

  “And I need to get back to working. Your big brother sort you out?”

  I grinned even though he didn’t, not entirely. I was still anxious and a bit confused.

  But I was less of both.

  “Yes, sweets,” I replied.

  “Then I’ll let you go, MeeMee.”

  “Okay, Lawrie. Talk to you later.”

  “Anytime, sweetheart. Take care.”

  “You too.”

  We hung up and I rested my phone against my chin and stared out to sea.

  Then I took it from my chin, activated it and saw the time.

  I still had hours to wait before Mickey would come to me.

  But it was after eight and thus not too late, so I opened up my texts and sent a group message to my kids.

  Your Uncle Lawrie is thinking about bringing your cousins out for Thanksgiving. If you have time, text him or call him and tell him you’d like to see him. Love you, honeys.

  I sent it and pushed away from the window, wondering if I should change before Mickey got there, when the doorbell rang.

  I looked that way, saw the motion sensor outdoor light had been activated and Mickey’s body was framed in the stained glass window.

  What on earth?

  It wasn’t even nine o’clock. They couldn’t have ordered and eaten and gotten home in that time.

  I hurried to the door as my phone in my hand sounded.

  Startled, I looked down and saw a short text from Auden.

  On it.

  Oh my God!

  I was grinning and still hurrying to the door when my phone sounded again.

  I was at the door, multi-tasking by unlocking and reading a text from Olympia.

  Me too.

  I didn’t know if that was for Lawr or me or both.

  I just knew it was more progress.

  This made me happy.

  And as I opened the door, I hoped by all that was holy what lay behind it would make me happy too.

  I looked up to Mickey’s face, caught his expression and froze, the happiness leaking right out of me.

  He said nothing, just moved inside in a way I was forced to move back. Once he got in, he stopped and so did I.

  He closed the door and turned back to me.

  “Hey,” he said softly.

  “Hey, Mickey,” I replied in the same tone.

  “Gotta get back to my kids,” he told me.

  But, he’d just arrived.

  “I—”

  “Rhiannon didn’t show.”

  I stared in shock.

  His ex was supposed to be at dinner?

  This knowledge forced a variety of thoughts to tumble through my head, including the fact he’d kissed me at the restaurant and one of his options after our kiss had included joining them—joining them for a dinner that would be consumed with his kids and ex-wife.

  I also thought of something I hadn’t noticed. That they were at a four-top and they’d had their menus when Bradley and I arrived.

  They’d also had them when we’d left.

  But the priority thought that pushed all others aside was that Cillian’s mother didn’t come to his birthday dinner.

  “Oh no,” I breathed, getting closer and lifting a hand to place it on his chest. “She was coming?”

  “We have an agreement,” he said shortly, looking strange, speaking strange, like he was controlling something but only barely. “So the kids wouldn’t feel all the loss her bullshit could make them feel, we’d do what we could to give them their family on days that were special. Not goin’ all out, shit like her sleepin’ over Christmas Eve, which could give them ideas. But at the very least birthday dinners, Christmas dinner, Thanksgiving, we’d have them together. If one of us found someone, that’d be part of the deal and whoever that was would have to get that. We’ve been divorced a year and a half, separated a year more than that, and this has worked. She’s never bailed on our kids.”

  “So,” I started cautiously, “did she call? Explain—”

  “Oh yeah, the bitch called,” Mickey interrupted me to growl viciously.

  His tone frightened me but I forced myself to stay in his space and keep my hand light on his chest, even though he wasn’t touching me and he was holding himself in that strange way he’d been speaking.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” I noted quietly.

  “It wasn’t,” he confirmed. “You haven’t seen it, but when she gets Cill, she fucks ’im up. He gets wound up, acts out, comes to me. Takes a day or two, but I give him what he needs, he settles in. He goes to her for her week, she unravels that, so when I get him back, he’s gone again. Vicious cycle. So tonight, the longer it took for her to show, he knew, they knew.”

  “They knew what?” I asked carefully when he said no more.

  “That she goes on benders.”

  I swallowed a gasp as Mickey kept talking.

  “When we were together, I covered her ass. Told myself the kids didn’t get it. That was a lie. They see everything. Worse, they feel it. Didn’t happen a lot but it happened too fuckin’ much for me. After the one I decided would be her last, she came home, I had her bags packed. Told her to kick the booze or get the fuck out. She told me she didn’t have a problem even though she was so hungover, she looked about eighty. I told her if she didn’t get her disappearing from our family home without warning for three days so she could get hammered was a problem, she needed to get her shit and get out. Then she grabbed her shit and walked right out.”

  I got closer and whispered, “Mickey.”

  “After I got shot of her, she pulled it together, never did it when she had the kids. Never left our kids to fend for themselves. Never missed a special meal. But we were at the restaurant twenty minutes before you got there, Amy, she was supposed to meet us there, and she hadn’t showed. Fifteen minutes after you left, after the fourth text I couldn’t hide sending the bitch to find out where the fuck she was, Cill started losing it. Then he lost it and threw a tantrum. Took him outside to calm him down, got him to do that, but he wanted to leave. We left, went to get fuckin’ burgers for my boy’s birthday, ’cause that was all he was up for. Got home, started to do cake and presents, the bitch called. She called A
sh’s phone. Cill knew it was her, grabbed it before my girl could save him that shit, and he got a birthday call from a mother who was totally shitfaced.”

  I felt tears fill my eyes.

  Oh, Cillian.

  “Honey,” I whispered, getting even closer, my hand now pressing.

  “He was good with her, my boy’s good with his mom, but he got off the phone, went wild. Threw the cake Ash made for him against the wall and slammed into his room. We had words, he’s still not calmed down, but I’m givin’ him time. I gotta get back to him because I gotta shape him up and sort out Rhiannon’s mess. Again.”

  “Okay, then go,” I invited.

  “We gotta talk.”

  That didn’t sound promising.

  But right then, not one thing was about me.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I told him.

  “Best kiss I ever had,” he told me.

  I drew in a sharp breath, those five words thrilling down my throat, to my belly, straight to the tips of my toes.

  “Want more,” he went on. “You with me?”

  I nodded and just stopped myself from doing it humiliatingly enthusiastically.

  “Good,” he stated curtly. “We talked. I sort out my boy, we’ll talk more.”

  “Okay, Mickey.”

  He bent abruptly and touched his mouth to mine.

  His lips were firm at the same time soft and he wore no cologne, but he smelled heavenly.

  He lifted his head but he did it also lifting his hand, and finally, he touched me.

  He did this cupping my jaw and sweeping his thumb along my cheek.

  He said nothing, just touched me sweetly and stared into my eyes.

  I said nothing back, just stood close and let him.

  Then he said, “Call you, baby.”

  “Okay, Mickey,” I repeated.

  His lips tipped up in a preoccupied grin that was still amazing before he let me go, turned to the door and disappeared through it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Everything I’d Ever Need

  When I got home from Dove House the next day, I went back out and grabbed my mail.

  I took it back in and went through it on the kitchen counter.

  No wish list from Cillian.

  I turned my head toward the front of my house like I could see through it and feel what was happening at the Donovans.