Soaring

  “Love you lots and lots back, MeeMee.”

  “See you soon.”

  “You will. ’Bye, sweets.”

  “’Bye, Lawrie.”

  We disconnected and I stared unseeing out the windows of the fire doors at the back of the hall.

  I wanted to invite Robin to Thanksgiving.

  I knew it would be too soon, maybe for both of them.

  So I couldn’t invite Robin to Thanksgiving.

  That didn’t stop me from really, really wanting to.

  Then, suddenly, I found my hand lifting and my finger sliding across the screen of my phone.

  I put it to my ear and heard it ring twice before I got, “Hey, baby.”

  “Hey back,” I greeted Mickey then blurted, “I wanna go away with you.”

  “Uh…what?”

  “Whenever, wherever for however long you want to go. I don’t care. I want you to know I want to go with you. I want to take Pop Tarts and squirtable cheese and crackers, and other food we don’t have to cook that we can eat with our fingers so we can stay in bed naked all day together. I want to go, whenever, wherever, and I want it to be just about you and me.”

  There was a moment of silence before he replied gently, “I love that, Amy, I love that you gave that to me. But gotta ask what brought it on.”

  “My brother’s marriage is disintegrating.”

  “Shit, Amy,” he muttered.

  “So you need to know I want that. Not this weekend. Or next. No pressure. Whenever we can do it. Whenever we can fit it in. Whenever we have a day or two or five where we can do that. I just need you to know I want that. I want that with you.”

  “We’ll find our time, darlin’,” he told me.

  “And,” I swallowed, gathering the courage to go on, “if this keeps growing, I don’t ever want you to forget no matter how many weeks or months or years pass, all you need to do is tell me to pack a bag and I’ll do it, happy to go away with you.”

  “Love that too, Amy,” he said softly and he sounded like he did. He sounded like he loved that.

  And I loved that sound.

  I closed my eyes. “Okay.”

  “You okay?”

  I opened my eyes. “I hurt for my brother,” I told him. “But I’m fine.”

  “Life sucks. But if he’s getting out of a bad situation, it’s his first step to finding some happy.”

  “I hope so.”

  “It’ll happen. Won’t know when it will happen. But mine moved in right across the street.”

  I drew in a sharp breath.

  Mickey kept talking like he didn’t just gift me with something precious.

  “I got work, babe. Hate it when you’re hurtin’ for your brother, but I gotta go.”

  “Okay, Mickey. I’ll let you go.”

  “Talk to you later.”

  “Yeah. Later, honey. ’Bye.”

  “’Bye, babe.”

  We disconnected and I drew in another breath.

  Mine moved in right across the street.

  I let the breath out, smiling.

  “Bonnie and Clyde!” I heard shouted in two voices.

  Then I heard, “I said it first!”

  “You did not!”

  “Tell her, Ellen! I said it first!”

  “I knew on the n. I didn’t even need the d!”

  “Then you should have said it on the n!”

  “Ladies—” I heard Mr. Dennison say calmingly.

  “Shut it, Charles!”

  At that, knowing with brief but alarming experience it was time to take action, I stopped thinking about Lawrie, Robin, Mickey and Thanksgiving and rushed to the lounge.

  * * * * *

  “It’s all right.”

  That came from Auden.

  “I think it’s the bomb. Get it, Mom.”

  That came from Olympia.

  We were in the back den, gathered around the PC and I was showing them the dining room table I was considering purchasing from the New Hampshire furniture company.

  When they replied to my email, I found they had a small showroom but none of those pieces, although lovely, were big enough for the space I had. And the one I’d seen on their site had been purchased and was unavailable.

  Mostly, however, they did custom designs and builds and the one we were viewing was a build that the people who ordered it had reneged on.

  If I wanted it, it would be all mine.

  “It works. It’s perfect,” Pippa went on. “And you need to get something. Uncle Lawrie is coming and Thanksgiving is just around the corner.”

  I had time but my girl was right. We weren’t going to eat Thanksgiving dinner sitting on the sectional.

  “Okay, I’ll get it,” I decided.

  “Great. Can I stop looking at furniture now?” Auden asked.

  He wasn’t in a surly mood. He was just a boy who didn’t give a fig about dining room tables.

  “No,” Pippa answered for me. “We need to look at couches. And Mom, you need to get hopping on the other guest bedroom and get a pullout for in here so Hart and Mercer don’t have to share a room.”

  I was looking at her, thinking she was right. I had the desk and chair but there was vast amounts of space in that room that needed filling and the whole room needed decorating.

  However, when she quit talking, I reminded her, “Sweets, I explained the boys might not be coming.”

  “If they have a choice between Uncle Lawrie and Aunt Frosty, they’ll so be here,” she returned.

  My kids called my brother’s wife “Aunt Frosty.”

  It was funny.

  But it wasn’t nice.

  “Aunt Frosty isn’t nice,” I rebuked gently.

  She didn’t look contrite. “It isn’t but it’s real.”

  I couldn’t argue that.

  I still didn’t want my daughter being mean.

  “Sometimes we should be careful about calling them as we see them,” I advised. “And especially when Lawr, or if the boys, come. They may be at the beginning of going through something you know from experience is unpleasant, so let’s help them do that better than we got through it, shall we?”

  That was when she looked contrite, licked her lips and rolled them together.

  “I care less about the guest bedroom, couches and pullouts,” Auden put in. “So now can I stop looking at furniture?”

  I rolled my chair slightly back so both kids, gathered around me, moved back too.

  After I did this, I said, “Actually, I need you for another little bit to talk to you about something.”

  They both donned expressions of wary.

  I ignored that and launched in.

  “A while ago, we had a discussion about me dating.”

  “Yeah, and now you’re dating some Neanderthal,” Pippa declared. “We know.”

  My back went straight as I fought a quick retort and instead asked, “How do you know?”

  “Dad told us,” Auden answered and my eyes looked to him to see his expression was now carefully blank. “Said we should know in case we see you two in town.”

  “And your father called Mickey a Neanderthal?” I queried, my voice thin.

  Pippa looked out the window.

  Auden shifted but held my gaze and said, “Yeah.”

  I fought the itch that was covering every inch of my skin, screaming to get scratched, me doing that meaning I marched to my car, got in it, drove to Conrad’s and shrieked at him for being such a huge…fucking…dick.

  But that was the me he made me.

  Now I was just me and he was not going to push me into going back.

  “Mickey isn’t a Neanderthal,” I told them firmly. “Mickey is a good man who I’ve come to care about quite a bit. I enjoy spending time with him. He feels the same about me. This is something that we both feel is important and we’re both building on that. So since he’s important to me and you’re important to me, I’d like you to meet him.”

  “Cool,” Pippa said casually.

/>   I stared at her, shocked at her non-response.

  Or, more precisely, her not negative one.

  “You should make your pulled barbeque chicken when he comes over. With your homemade coleslaw,” Auden suggested.

  I moved my stare to him.

  Then I asked, “I…that’s it? Do you have questions? Anything you want to ask me about Mickey?”

  “No, why?” Auden asked back.

  “It’s about time,” Pip stated before I could answer my son. “You’ve always been pretty and those highlights kick butt. So it’s no surprise you hooked up. And it’s good you have somebody.”

  Could it be this easy?

  “Pippa, sweets, you should know, it’s that firefighter you saw that day on the street.”

  She grinned. “Awesome. He was hot.”

  I blinked.

  She bent over the computer and commandeered the mouse, saying, “Now, I was looking and I totally dig the whole thing you got going in the other guestroom. I found this bed that was like yin to that yang. From the beach straight to the forest!” she declared and started clicking.

  Oh my God.

  My daughter had been looking for furniture for the home she shared with me.

  And oh my God, my kids didn’t mind that I was dating and wanted them to meet somebody.

  I felt something strange and my eyes drifted from my daughter clicking the mouse to my son.

  The instant I caught his gaze, he looked away and mumbled, “I approve of everything so don’t bother asking me.”

  He then strolled out.

  “Look, Mom, here it is! Isn’t this the bomb?” Pippa cried.

  I looked at a four-poster bed that looked made of logs.

  It was absolutely “the bomb.”

  I rolled forward, ordering, “Scooch, kid, let me see.”

  Pippa scooched.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’d ordered a log bed off the Internet.

  Twenty minutes after that, I’d ordered all the linens for that bed.

  And an hour after that, my girl sitting on a stool she’d dragged from the kitchen bar (I really needed more furniture in the den) and I were still online furniture shopping.

  * * * * *

  “Don’t stay up too late, kiddo. I’m off to bed,” I said to Auden who was lounged on the couch in front of the TV, surrounded by schoolbooks, notebooks and his tablet.

  It was late. His sister had gone to bed half an hour ago. Auden was still doing homework. The TV was on, but as only kids could do, he was sitting in front of it with it blaring but most of his attention was on his work.

  I put my hands to the arms of the chair I was in and started to push up when Auden’s eyes came to me.

  “He fucks you over, you get rid of him.”

  I froze.

  “Auden,” I whispered.

  “The minute he fucks you over, Mom, get rid of him,” he ordered, his voice low and there was a tremor of emotion that cut deep.

  I rested my behind back to the seat and kept my focus on my son.

  “First,” I said quietly, “I’m not fond of your language.”

  Auden didn’t reply, he just continued staring at me.

  “Second,” I went on, “is there something you want to share with me?”

  “Dad screwed you over and it messed you up,” he declared instantly.

  God, direct hit.

  “I know, kiddo, and I’m sorry I made that so easy for you to see.”

  He shook his head forcefully. “No. That’s not what I mean. Dad screwed you over and it messed you up, Mom. You’re good now. You got through it. But you know better than me that guys can be dicks. Don’t let this guy be a dick to you.”

  “I learned something from what happened before, sweets,” I assured him. “And whatever’s in my future with a man, or even getting a hangnail, I’m not going to allow that to happen again. And by that I mean I’m not going to fall apart.”

  He stopped lounging and leaned toward me. “No,” he repeated emphatically. “Just don’t let this guy be a dick to you.”

  I stared at my boy and tried to read anything I could that he wasn’t giving to me verbally.

  When I couldn’t find it, even though I sensed it was there, I started, “What happened between me and your father—”

  Auden interrupted me, “I had no control over that. But I will over this. If I see this guy being a dick to you, then I’m doing something about it.”

  “Auden,” I began cautiously, “is there something you aren’t telling me?”

  That was when he broke my gaze, still looking toward me but now doing it beyond me. “Just that I’m not letting anyone be a dick to my mom.”

  That felt nice. Incredibly nice.

  I still sensed that wasn’t it.

  “If you have something you need to talk about, I hope you know you can talk to me,” I told him earnestly but solemnly, hoping he didn’t also read my anxiety.

  Auden didn’t say anything.

  “Mickey’s a really good man, honey,” I shared. “He’s got two kids of his own and he’s a great dad.” I leaned his way and dropped my voice. “He makes me laugh and he takes care of me and he makes me happy. And I hope you know I wouldn’t put you through introducing you to somebody who I didn’t think would be around for a good long while.”

  Auden again looked right at me. “I’m glad he makes you laugh and you’re happy. But if he’s a dick to you, Mom, he’s gone.”

  I again tried to read my son.

  I again sensed something there that I couldn’t read.

  And he obviously didn’t want to share it.

  So I said, “I think that’s a fair deal.”

  Auden nodded and looked back at the TV.

  I decided to end it there, got up and went around the back of the couch. When I was in position, I leaned deep and kissed the top of his head.

  “Love you, my baby boy, forever and ever,” I whispered.

  “Love you too, Mom,” he mumbled in return.

  I closed my eyes, throat getting clogged, swallowed to clear it and straightened away.

  “Sleep tight,” I said as I moved toward my room, snagging my phone off the kitchen counter on the way there.

  “Yeah. You too,” Auden called back.

  I got behind closed door and instantly called Mickey.

  Within a couple of rings, just like Mickey, he picked up.

  I told him the good news, that Auden and Olympia were open to meet him.

  I did not tell him my ex referred to him to my children as a Neanderthal. He’d done that to Mickey’s face and Mickey didn’t like it. He didn’t need to get upset about Conrad saying it to my kids.

  Then I told him the not-so-good news about the intense conversation I just had with my son.

  I ended this with, “What do you think that was about?”

  “Haven’t met your boy, babe, don’t know anything about him but what you’ve told me. But if my dad did my mom the way his dad did his, I may have gotten caught up in the hurricane and its aftermath, but when things settled down, I’d be thinkin’. Men look to our fathers to show us the man we should be. He’s at an age where that’s gonna be some intense scrutiny. And I’m thinkin’ he doesn’t like what he’s seein’.”

  “I don’t want that for him,” I said uneasily.

  “Could just be him mannin’ up,” Mickey added. “He’s of an age to do that too. His mom is dating. She got fucked over. He wants you to know he’s lookin’ out for you. I’d do that for my mom too. Any good son would look after his mother.”

  I liked that idea better.

  “He said the f-word, Mickey.”

  Mickey started chuckling.

  I didn’t find it funny.

  “Twice,” I stated.

  “Bet he says it a lot more around his buds.”

  This did not make me happy and I looked to the door.

  “Babe, advice,” he went on. “Seriously. Listen to this shit. Back off. He’s findin’ the man he’s
gonna be. You gotta give him space to let him.”

  “He should respect his mother and not curse,” I declared.

  “Do you honestly give a shit about cursing?” he asked incredulously.

  “You doing it as a grown man, no. Auden doing it at sixteen, yes.”

  “You call him on it?”

  “Carefully.”

  “Then make it be known that in your house and to you and your daughter, he shows you that respect. After that, back off. That is, unless he keeps doin’ it.”

  “Right,” I mumbled.

  “Brady Bunch action is definitely gonna take time,” he stated, and I knew he meant by this that it would be only him for dinner. We’d do the blending of kids at a later date, which was a relief. “So this dinner has gotta happen next week after the kids go to Rhiannon. Scheduled off at the house on Tuesday. See if they can make it then.”

  “I’ll talk to them, Mickey. Do you like coleslaw?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Because Auden placed his order for dinner with the man Mom’s dating and it includes coleslaw. I already know you like barbeque chicken, which is the other menu item he selected.”

  “Totally a sixteen-year-old boy. His mom tells him she’s got a new man, he’s worried about what he’s gonna eat.”

  That made me smile and settled other things inside me.

  Mickey kept talking, “But you don’t have a grill.”

  “Slow roasted barbeque pulled chicken,” I told him.

  “Shit, it’s after ten and now I’m hungry.”

  And another smile.

  “You goin’ to bed?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Wish that was happening beside me,” he muttered.

  And with that, everything settled inside me.

  “Me too,” I told him quietly.

  “Monday,” he said.

  That seemed a long way away.

  “Monday,” I agreed.

  “Right, Amy. Lettin’ you go. Sleep good, baby.”

  “You too, Mickey. ’Night.”

  “’Night.”

  We rang off and I got ready for bed.

  Once in it, I tossed and turned and didn’t sleep.

  I wanted to believe that the fierceness coming from my son was a protective instinct for me. I would even like to know if Mickey was right about Auden looking at his father and wondering if he’d become that man.

  But I didn’t think it was either.