Switchy

  “You didn’t realize she had a tangible problem that was treatable.”

  “But I kind of had that nagging little inner voice, you know? Then it was easier to throw myself into my work and try to ignore her and her antics and avoid confrontations.”

  “I still can’t believe she told that guy he needed to wax his back.”

  “Looking back on it, past my initial shock and horror and disbelief she’d even said it, it kind of makes a weird sort of sense. Like maybe she was trying to keep me isolated. Knowing if I had a relationship, it would take some of my attention from her. Work was one thing. She didn’t really mess with that unless it was when I was trying to work from home. Like she didn’t get that just because I was home didn’t mean I wasn’t working. But if I was physically at work, she usually didn’t bother me.”

  “It does make sense. Let me know what your dad says.”

  “I will.”

  Her dad’s car was there when Jarred pulled into his yard and parked next to the Dumpster. He grabbed her overnight bag and laptop case before she could and followed her to her front door.

  “Come on in and say hi to Dad.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yep. Might be easier this way. Get him used to this.”

  “Okay.”

  She let them in and found her dad sitting at the table with the newspaper and a cup of coffee.

  “Good morning, sweetheart,” he said, sounding…happier than she remembered hearing him for a while.

  “How’s Mom doing?” she asked. Jarred set her things on the couch for her.

  Her dad leaned back in his chair. “Pissed off and already called me twice this morning and demanded I get her out of there. I told her the faster she lets the doctors do their job and figure this out, the faster she’ll get discharged. But that she’s staying in there until the doctor declares her ready to come home.”

  She walked over to the kitchen, Jarred following her. “Dad, you kind of already met. This is Jarred Ilsen. He inherited the house next door. He and Garrison are going to move in once they get it ready.”

  Her dad stood and approached, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, son. Sorry about the excitement yesterday.” He looked at Em. “I take it you spent the night with him last night?”

  “Yeah.” That wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth. “And probably tonight, too, unless you tell me otherwise.”

  “No reason for you to change your plans, honey. Hope you have fun. You’ve earned it with all you’ve put up with over the past three years.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” She glanced at the time on her phone. “Shoot, I’m late. Let me walk you to the door.”

  On the front porch, she pulled Jarred in for a kiss. “I guess the same plan for tonight as last night then, huh? As long as you don’t mind driving me back here tomorrow morning.”

  “Of course I don’t mind. It’s silly to take two cars.” He brought her right hand to his lips and kissed it. “And I like having the opportunity to drive you. It’s my week off. I won’t be able to do this all the time.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Unable to let him go just yet, she hooked a finger in the collar of his T-shirt and pulled him in for one more kiss. “Text me when you get to IKEA, huh?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Would you like me to send you pics of my top choices so you can see them before I decide?”

  “If you want to.”

  He smiled. “I do.”

  “Maybe grab some extra condoms during your travels today.”

  His smile widened. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  She returned inside, where her dad was once again sitting at the table.

  He wore a playful smile.

  She went to refill her travel mug of coffee from the pot on the counter. “What’s that smile for?”

  “Nothing. Except you look happy.”

  “I am happy.”

  “Can I ask a personal question? And feel free to tell me it’s none of my business.”

  “Sure.”

  “I couldn’t help but notice he’s wearing a wedding band.”

  “He’s widowed.” It was totally the truth.

  Just not the total truth.

  She’d wait to drop that on him until she knew for sure this was going to last.

  “Oh. Gotcha. Sorry.” He sat back and looked at her. “Not trying to pry. Just…curious. Feel free to tell me to shut up.”

  She leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “Dad, I don’t mind your questions, because I get it. I also know you won’t hound me.”

  “He seems nice.”

  “He is.”

  He raised one eyebrow, the question silent.

  She laughed, unable to help it. “I don’t know where this will go.”

  “I hope it keeps going,” he said.

  “Yeah, well, remember that when Mom gets on my case.”

  He shook his head. “That won’t be an issue. We are moving out. I should have everything finalized by the end of the week.”

  “How long are they keeping her in the hospital?”

  “At least a week. Likely longer, depending on how stubborn she is. They might transfer her to an inpatient psychiatric clinic once they have better answers, so they can monitor her in an environment specially suited for that kind of treatment.”

  “That’ll piss her off.”

  “Probably.” He shrugged. “Right now, I don’t care. The thought of actually getting my wife and my life back to something approaching normal is worth whatever aggravation she’ll put me through to make it happen. I’ve made up my mind that if she wants to stay married to me, she’s going to have to put in some effort. I’ve hit the end of my rope and I’m not caving anymore.”

  “I didn’t realize it’d gotten so bad between you.”

  “I love her. Don’t get me wrong. But life is short and getting shorter by the day, and there comes a point where a man has to decide if he wants to spend the rest of his life in a daily fight for peace or wants to go grab it himself and hold on to it. I’m done fighting. If she loves me and this family, it’s time for her to start fighting for it instead of fighting against all of us.”

  “True.” She capped her travel mug and gave him one last hug. “Love you, Dad. Keep me posted.”

  “Sure thing. Don’t worry about me tonight.”

  “More naked TV watching?”

  He laughed. “Okay, so I wore shorts.”

  “That’s good to know. Otherwise, I was going to give you my couch when you move.”

  She dumped her overnight bag in her bedroom before heading to the car and leaving for work. On the way there, she heard her phone ring and while she didn’t recognize the local number, she went ahead and answered it anyway. Sometimes customers called her on her cell.

  “Em Woodland.”

  “Hey, this is Corey Shatlin from the property management company.”

  She had to think for a moment. “Oh, hey. You received my rent payment, right?”

  “Yes, that’s not why I’m calling. Do you have a minute to chat?”

  “Um, sure. I’m just driving to work.”

  By the time she reached work, Em was off the call and she sat in the parking lot for a moment, deep in thought.

  Shit.

  When her lease came due in a couple of months, she’d either have to buy the house, or move, because the owners were going to sell it one way or another.

  Son of a bitch.

  Considering she’d rented it for several years, the owners were willing to give her first refusal on it at a below-market-value price. A very fair price. They’d owned the house for years and didn’t have a mortgage on it. If they listed it for sale, they’d be asking at least fifty grand more, and they’d easily get that in her neighborhood.

  She’d have to make her decision before they signed a contract with the real estate agent to handle the sale, or they’d have to charge her more to cover the agent’s commission and closing costs. If she wanted to buy it, the property management company
would handle the paperwork for a two-hundred dollar flat fee, plus the paperwork filing charges.

  Yes, she knew with her good credit and savings that she’d easily be able to get a mortgage and buy the house and not have to move. Or be able to buy it and then turn around and flip it, if she wanted, and make a tidy profit without even trying.

  The irony didn’t escape her that she’d been giving serious thought to moving out and turning it over to her parents. Now faced with being forced to make a decision, however, she didn’t want to.

  So much for my good morning.

  Mitchell silently fell into step behind her from when she walked through the front door. She felt his pleased grin burning a hole between her shoulder blades all the way to her office, where he closed the door behind them and plopped down into one of the chairs while she got her laptop set up.

  “Gonna start calling you the Cheshire Cat,” she grumbled.

  His smile faded. “Wait, what’s going on? What happened? Is your mom okay?”

  “I was doing damn great until I got a call on my way in.” She told him about her now mandatory decision regarding her living arrangements.

  “Ah. Well, that’s one way to force your mom into moving. Rent a little studio apartment for six months or something.”

  “Not funny.”

  “I wasn’t kidding. Hell, come live with us. Once your parents have their own place, get yourself a new place.”

  “I didn’t need this this morning. It was going so well until that phone call.”

  “So back up and tell me what’s happening.”

  She started with the quick version of her mom’s situation. Then backtracked to detail, somewhat, her night with Jarred and Garrison, including their plans to repeat it that night.

  “Oooh, girl.” He grinned. “Finally, something good to celebrate.”

  “Maybe. We’ll see where it goes.”

  “Honey, I know you. You don’t just randomly jump into a hook-up unless you think it might have the potential to lead somewhere permanent.”

  “So how do you explain some of my earlier bad choices?”

  “Those weren’t your fault. They were lying shits. You are not just a random hook-up kind of girl. Which isn’t a bad thing. I have a good feeling about those two.”

  “You don’t even know them.”

  “So invite them over. Tomorrow night, our place, dinner.” He stood, turning back to her with a grin. “Eh, gonna pull friend and boss rank. That was an order. Eight o’clock.” He left her office, shutting the door behind him.

  She sat back in her chair. If there was anyone she wouldn’t disobey, it was Mitchell and Brent. They’d earned the right over the years, as friends and adopted family, to issue her orders that she’d follow through with.

  She opted to call Jarred with that info.

  He chuckled. “Well, guess we have dinner tomorrow planned for us, huh?”

  “Yep. Will Garrison be okay with that?”

  “Absolutely. I was just getting ready to head out to IKEA, so I’ll be on the road.”

  “Text me when you get there. And pictures.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Closing her eyes, she could picture the smile he wore, just from his tone of voice. That scared her in the good way, that she already was tuned in to him like that.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Confusion colored his tone. “For what?”

  “For not being angry with me when my mom called the cops.”

  “Honestly? I kind of feel grateful she did. We might not be here at this place if she hadn’t.”

  * * * *

  There was something still off about Em’s tone, though. “What’s going on?” Jarred asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I’ve got to shit or get off the pot.” She told him about the call from the property manager.

  The comment popped out of his mouth before he could really think about the ramifications. “If you decide not to buy the house, you could always move in with us. That’s another way to make sure your mom doesn’t want to move in.”

  From her momentary silence, he thought maybe he’d crossed a line, pushed too hard. “Em?”

  “You don’t really know me that well.”

  “What’s the worst that can happen? Stuff doesn’t work out, you live in the guest room until you decide your next move.”

  “I honestly don’t know what I want to do yet,” she admitted. “I knew they’d been thinking about selling the house, but I’d kind of shoved it out of my mind as a reality.”

  “Then buy it. It sounds like a good deal.”

  “I don’t know if I want to. Renting, if something breaks, I call the management company and they send someone out. It’s an older house. It’s in pretty good shape, but I don’t know about the roof, if it’ll need to be replaced soon.”

  “Then don’t buy it.”

  “But I’m getting to the age maybe I should look at my future. And it’s a really good price.”

  “Then buy it.”

  She laughed. “You’re not helping.”

  “I know, but it’s your call.”

  “What would you do?”

  He sighed. “I’m not the best person to ask. I think most of my decision to rehab the house and live here was due to meeting you.”

  She went quiet again.

  “Em?”

  “Yeah,” she softly said.

  “Did I just freak you out?”

  “No.”

  “I mean, no pressure. Don’t buy your house just because of us living next door.”

  “I won’t.” Another pause. “You really mean it about moving in, and if it doesn’t work I can just rent a bedroom from you?”

  His heart raced. “Absolutely. When do you have to give them an answer?”

  “I’ve got at least a month to think about it before I need to really buckle down and decide.”

  “Okay. So we spend the next month getting to know each other better, the three of us, and then we can revisit the discussion. Right?”

  She sounded relieved. “Right.”

  “No pressure.”

  “This is such a weird position for me to be in. I mean, all of this at once. It’s nuts.”

  “All the more reason we table the discussion. You might hate us in a week.”

  “I doubt that. More like you’ll be sick of my crazy family in a week.”

  “Ma’am, trust me, it’ll take far more than a crazy family to scare us off. And even if it did scare us off, it would mean we’re not worthy of you, right?”

  “I am so scared right now. I feel like I’ve been shoved to the top of a cliff and I can’t see which way to jump to stay safe.”

  “If you jump, we’ll catch you. I promise.”

  “You can’t make me that promise yet.”

  “Yes, I can. We both can. You have to take your time to decide if we’re what you want, though.”

  After they got off the phone Jarred stood there for a moment, deep in thought. He caught sight of the wedding band on his hand.

  He’d sworn he’d wear it unless or until someone else caught his heart. Or until Garrison finally said yes and let him marry him. Even then, he’d planned to always wear it on his right hand, a reminder of her.

  She’d wanted them to move on, to be happy. He’d always hoped that she’d pull through, they’d find a donor match, and they’d get their happily ever after.

  It hadn’t been in the cards.

  But for all those years they’d had together, he’d never been happier. And once they’d lost her, he’d never thought he’d be that happy again, no matter what he’d promised her.

  Em was a chance for that happiness.

  And he’d do whatever he could to try to show her how good it could be. Because if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure he’d be lucky enough to find a third chance.

  Chapter Twenty

  Between burying her mind in her work and enjoying the diversion of exchanging texts with Jarred once he r
eached IKEA and began the process of picking out a new kitchen, Em had a thought that she decided she should follow up.

  She logged into her personal e-mail and sent a message to Tilly, including her cell phone number and asking if they could talk.

  Tilly called her a few minutes later. “What’s up?”

  “This isn’t inconvenient?”

  “I wouldn’t be calling if it was. What’s on your mind?”

  Before Em realized it, she was spilling her whole story to Tilly, everything, including the stuff going on with her mom.

  “The bottom line is, I don’t know what to do,” Em finished.

  “I like Jarred’s idea of waiting a month to decide. And quit feeling guilty about your mom.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I mean what if I can’t do any of this stuff for them?”

  “Well, do you like what you’re doing now?”

  “I don’t know. We just got together. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing.”

  “See, that’s where people get tripped up. Thinking they have to do anything. The first thing to keep in mind is if you’re having fun, and then if you’re getting what you need from what you’re doing. As long as everyone’s safe, and consenting adults, those are the two biggies.”

  “What if six months from now I realize I can’t do…you know, other stuff for them.”

  “You guys going to be at the party this weekend?”

  “I don’t know. What party?”

  “Whoops. I’m sure I saw Jarred and Garrison on the invite list. I’ll call Loren and make sure Ross has you guys on there. This Saturday night, private party. Even if my guys don’t want to go, I’ll come and we can talk some more. Maybe even show you some stuff, if you feel up to it. I know it sounds scary right now, but chances are all those two need from you is for you to be your normally strong self. Just don’t go looking at FetLife until we get a chance to talk.”

  “What is that, anyway? I heard the guys mention it.”

  Tilly laughed. “It’s either the greatest thing for kinksters since Facebook was created, or it’s every worst nightmare for some people who aren’t even sure what they want out of this lifestyle. I’m serious. Avoid it for now.”