The air conditioning was down that morning, the air close and fetid. Inmates on cleaning detail took their time sweeping and mopping the corridors while Emanuel paced. Even Finn and Tyrell Perkins, normally the best of friends, bickered.
Josie and I walked down the corridor to our offices. “Josie, just cut the therapeutic head nodding, would you?” Her curls were damp and as springy as a head full of slinky toys in the humidity, reminding me of how much I’d loved my slinky as a child. I would edge it down the stairs, watching the helical springs bouncing up and down as it stretched and reformed itself with the aid of gravity. A scientist even then. “I’m sorry for snapping,” I apologized. “I just thought you’d be happy about my news.”
“You’re really serious about this guy, aren’t you? I’m not, ‘not happy’ for you. You haven’t known him very long, that’s all. I just went through this and I know it’s hard for kids to accept another person in their lives. I’m sure Alex is a great guy, okay? I’m great too but it still took a while for Melanie’s kids to adjust.”
“You’ve said this before. Is it because you’re gay?” I unlocked my door and breathed in air as warm and thick as stew.
Josie followed me in. “No! They’ve known their mom was gay since they were young. They really loved her ex. Shelby was another mother to them. After the split, they only saw her like every other weekend or something. So when I came along, it was really tough to get anything but a scowl or a grunt out of them. Whatever. I thought maybe I just wasn’t meant to be a mother but after a while they came around and it was really great.”
“So it really had nothing to do with you.” Was that a tear in Josie’s eye? “The kids really like Alex. Thank God, there’s no problem there. How long did you say it took for Melanie’s kids to come around?”
“Oh, probably a few months. It helped that I’m good at Spanish. Every time they had problems with their Spanish homework, they came to me, and it sort of developed from there. It’s fine now. Hey, I inherited two great kids I might not have had otherwise.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Damn allergies. We have a girl and a boy. Ashlyn is fourteen and Max is twelve.”
“Caleigh is thirteen and Dane is six. He’d be thrilled to hang out with an older kid. I’d love for you to meet them.”
I wondered again if those were tears glistening in Josie’s eyes. “What school do they go to?”
“Um, Willow Creek. That sounds great. I just want you to be prepared for the possibility they may not take it as well as you think. And Alex may not be the man you think he is.”
“I’ll keep it in mind, but I think you’re wrong. Really? Your kids go to Willow Creek? I thought you lived in the Kellogg district. That’s where Caleigh goes.”
“Nope. They go to Willow Creek,” Josie said.
“Hmmm. That’s strange. Well, I guess they have changed the boundaries this year. Anyway, I couldn’t help but notice you teared up a little when you talked about Melanie’s kids.”
“Fuck you, Grace. Why would you say that? I told you I have allergies. Anyway, I gotta go. I’ve got to get some work done.”
Josie had a reputation for biting people’s heads off, but I couldn’t help but be hurt by her outburst. Something smelled fishy. Josie was lying.
* * *
A few days later, I fed the kids veggie pizza for dinner and then went to my room to dress. I was tired but not unpleasantly so. After a dab of moisturizer and foundation, I brushed on a new apricot eye shadow. A thin line of charcoal liner, two coats of brown-black mascara, a dab of raspberry lip-gloss and I was ready to slip into a new sleeveless black dress, pantyhose, and heels.
“Mom! Maddy’s here!” Dane’s voice carried up the stairs.
“I’ll be right down!”
“Wow, Mom. You look nice. Where are you going?” Dane asked as I teetered down the stairs in my new three-inch heels.
“I told you, sweetie. Alex and I are going out to dinner tonight.”
“But it’s a school night,” Dane whined. “Is he coming here? Who’s gonna tuck me in?”
“I will,” Madeleine chirped. I cast a thankful glance in her direction.
“Alex is working late so I’m meeting him at the restaurant. I won’t be late, sweetheart. Go to bed when Maddy tells you it’s bedtime, okay? I’ll come in and kiss you goodnight when I get home.” I gave him a quick hug. “Be good. Bye, Caleigh.”
A muffled, “Bye, Mom,” floated down from Caleigh’s room.
“Call my cell if you have any problems. You have my number, right, Maddy?”
“Yup. Don’t worry, we’ll be just fine.”
I gave Dane one last hug and grabbed my purse and coat. “I’ll be home early.”
* * *
The maître d’ led me to the table where Alex sat at a table for two. He’d chosen Pescara, Rochester’s chic new seafood restaurant inside the Doubletree Hotel, for what he said was a special dinner.
“You look beautiful,” he said, pulling my chair out for me.
The restaurant’s candles and twinkling lights reminded me of Van Gogh’s Starry Night over the Rhone. “What’s the occasion? This is kind of a fancy place for a Thursday-night dinner.”
“I ordered champagne,” Alex said, his features suffused with anxiety. His light-blue shirt had circles of perspiration under his arms.
“Champagne? Alex, is something wrong? You look kind of nervous.”
The waiter brought a bottle of Dom Perignon Rose and poured the bubbly drink into champagne flutes. “To us,” Alex toasted.
“To us.” The first sip tickled my nose and I sneezed.
Alex laughed. “I’m trying for a romantic evening here! Can you just play along, Grace?”
“I guess you don’t want to hear about how the candlelight in here reminded me of Van Gogh, huh?”
He put his flute down, looked into my eyes and took my hand. “Grace, listen. I love you. You and Dane and Caleigh. All of you. You know that, don’t you?”
An image of Matt asking me to marry him flickered across my brain. It had been after his graduation from medical school when I was still a fourth-year med student. I realized with a start I still thought of Matt as my husband. I needed to move on. That part of my life was over.
“Grace, will you marry me?”
“What? What did you say?” I looked at the face I had grown to love and tears sprang to my eyes. I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything.
Alex pulled a jeweler’s box from his pocket and opened it. He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. It was an understatement to say that I was happy. “Oh, Alex. It’s beautiful. Yes! I’ll marry you.” He slid the ring over my knuckle. A perfect antique diamond, surrounded by sapphires in a white gold setting.
“It was my mother’s,” he said. “She would have been so happy to see you wear it.”
Nothing had ever felt so right. “It’s beautiful. I’m honored to wear it. I love you, Alex Sawyer.”
Alex wiped his forehead theatrically. “Whew. That was nerve racking. I’m hungry! What would you like to eat?”
My eyes drawn to the sparkle of the diamond on my left hand. “Mahi-mahi. I’m starved!” The waiter took our order and I stupidly said, “Alex, I don’t want this to sound petty, but Angela didn’t wear this ring did she? I mean since it was your mother’s and Angela was your first wife and all …” As happy as I was, I still couldn’t get her out of my mind.
“Is that what you’re worried about? No, my mother was still alive when Angela and I married and she never offered the ring to her. There wasn’t much love lost between Angela and Mom. I should have listened to her. I know she would’ve loved you though. Mom told me after Angela and I were divorced that she would leave me the ring because she knew I would find the right woman one day. We can get you another ring, if you’d rather.”
I held my hand up to the candlelight and admired the ring. “No! I love the ring. It was silly of me to ask. I can’t wait to show it off.”
We finished dessert, a Blanc de piore so sweet, it made my teeth ache. Alex paid the bill. “How long do you have the sitter?” He smiled seductively.
“Any particular reason you’re asking?”
He drew me close. His breath tickled my neck. I knew exactly why he was asking.
The short drive to Alex’s townhouse was electric with anticipation. We entered through the mudroom. He turned on the light and I breathed in his male smell—a combination of musky cologne and freshly shaven skin. I responded to his smell, to his arms around me, to his kiss and arched my back as I pressed my body to his, my breasts against his chest. The only thing that mattered was having his bare skin next to mine. I unbuttoned his shirt and he pressed himself against the warmth in my pelvis. My hands went to where they had wanted to go the entire ride—underneath his clothes.
“Upstairs.” A guttural sound escaped from his mouth. “I want you upstairs, Grace.”
He led the way through the darkened living room, up the stairs and down the hall. I ached with desire for him. Nothing in the world had ever mattered more than having Alex inside me. He flipped the night light on his room. The thick, dark comforter, the cherry wood bedroom furniture, the coffee-colored walls all screamed sex! Before we got to the bed, he pulled my dress over my head and tore off my pantyhose and thong. My bra was next. I stood naked in front of him and he began at my mouth and then kissed my breasts, made his way to my abdomen, taking particular care to kiss the pearly white stretch marks from my pregnancies. He dropped to his knees and made his way lower.
I began to moan a deep, throaty sound. A mix of pleasure and need. My hips swayed until I finally released everything I had held back for so long. He stood and kissed my lips so I could taste my own sweet, salty taste. “I love you,” he said. “I love you so much.”