JAKE was pretty sure he’d never get over being amazed that every possession that meant anything to him would fit in a five-by-eight trailer. But there he was, trailer behind him, driving out of San Diego before most people were awake.
At first, Jake enjoyed the time alone. The skies were crystal clear and the weather warm. He rolled down the SUV’s windows once he hit I-8 and let the fresh air flow around him. He admired the passing scenery. He cranked up the music and sang along as loudly as he could.
Several hours and several turns later, Jake hit the beginning of a 233-mile stretch of I-40, and he was ready for the damn day to be over with. Why had he thought a twelve-hour driving day was a good idea? He was too damn old for this shit, and his knee was beginning to really hurt. All he wanted was a nice long shower and some food. A soft bed would be nice too.
He grumbled as he pulled into the drive of his ex-wife’s modern adobe house. Marcy waved, and next to her stood a fit young Native American man who couldn’t have been more than twenty-two years old.
“Oh Lord, is that the boyfriend?” Jake shook his head.
Jake climbed out of the SUV and gave his knee a few experimental bends before placing his full weight on his leg. He pulled his duffel bag out of the backseat and slung it over his shoulder.
Marcy ran up to Jake and planted a swift, friendly kiss on his lips. No matter how much he reminded her that divorced couples should not kiss that way, she persisted in doing it. He only hoped the approaching probable boyfriend wasn’t the jealous type.
“Oh, Jake, I’m so glad you finally got here,” Marcy exclaimed. “I was starting to get worried. Eddie said I was being silly, but you know how I am.”
Jake gave her a hug and kept one arm around her shoulders when he finished. “Yep, I do. You always fretted over my road trips.”
“I can’t help it. People are killed all the time by a rock or a log or a tire just flying up from the road and crashing through their windshield.”
The young man—Jake assumed it was the aforementioned Eddie—held out his hand and firmly shook the one Jake offered in return. “I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you, sir. I’m a huge baseball fan. Let me take your bag to the guest room.”
Jake, shocked by the greeting as well as Eddie’s rapid-fire delivery, handed over his duffel. Eddie took it and dashed through the front door.
“Did your boyfriend just call me sir?”
“I’m afraid he did,” Marcy said with a laugh. “You’ll have to forgive him. He’s been so nervous about meeting you. I think he’ll calm down once he realizes you won’t smother him in his sleep.”
“He’s safe. Well, as long as I don’t find out he’s a Yankees fan.”
Marcy softly punched his gut. “Give me a little credit. Like I’d ever get involved with a Yankees fan.” She pulled away and grabbed Jake’s hand. “Let’s get inside. Eddie has been working on dinner all afternoon, and I think you’ll really like it.”
Every time Jake visited Marcy, he was impressed with the warmth of her home. From the beautiful, plush rugs to the oversized couches and chairs, everything was designed for comfort. She’d done the same in their home together. He’d tried his best to make his apartment in San Diego feel the same, but he’d never been very successful. He was determined the new house in Georgia would feel more like a home, even if he had to fly Marcy out there to do it for him.
Marcy led him to the kitchen, which was full of the delicious smell of fresh fry bread. The kitchen table, which was framed on three sides by huge picture windows overlooking the Sandia Mountains, was teeming with all sorts of toppings for fry bread tacos: fresh vegetables, shredded beef, homemade salsa. Eddie stood at the stove, flipping fry bread in a pan of sizzling oil.
Jake sat facing the largest window. “Wow, y’all really know how to feed a guy. Everything looks great.”
Eddie grinned. “Marcy doesn’t let me feed her this stuff very often. Thinks she has to watch her figure. But she gave in since we had a guest.”
Marcy brought a bowl of chopped cilantro to the table and sat down. “If he fed me this way every day, I’d weigh five hundred pounds.”
“Hell, I’ll eat whatever you don’t,” Jake said. “Nobody cares how much I weigh anymore.”
Eddie carried a plate piled high with pieces of fry bread separated by paper towels and joined them at the table. After he sat down, he leaned over and gave Marcy a brief kiss. Jake was surprised by the small stab of jealousy he felt. He wasn’t jealous that someone was kissing his ex-wife. He was jealous that he didn’t have anyone to kiss himself.
As he set to making his first taco, Jake cleared his throat. “So, how’s the shop doing?”
“It’s doing really well,” Marcy answered. “We get tons of business now that we’re in Old Town, what with all the tourists. Eddie’s fetishes just fly out of the store. People buy them almost as fast as he can carve them.”
“Still selling those rugs?”
“Absolutely. I have an exclusive agreement with an older Navajo artist, and her rugs are just stunning.”
Jake took a big bite of his taco, and the flavors were bold and explosive. “If the fetish market ever crashes, Eddie should think of opening a restaurant. This is amazing.”
“Thank you,” Eddie said, a huge smile on his face.
Marcy rolled her eyes. “He’s going to be impossible to live with now.”
Jake shrugged. “Just being honest. But about those rugs, I was wondering if you could pick out two for my new place and send them to me. One for the bedroom and one for the living room.”
“What size do you need?” Marcy asked.
“Hell if I know. Big?”
“Oh, that’s helpful. Send me the dimensions you want once you get moved in, okay?”
“Will do.” It was time to take the boyfriend on. “So, Eddie, how old are you, anyway?” Jake ignored the choking sound Marcy made.
Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Um, me? I’m twenty-five.”
“Well, that’s three years older than I thought. Anyway, technically, you’re young enough to be Marcy’s son.” Jake was almost positive he saw Marcy spit out her tea in his peripheral vision.
Eddie sat up straight and squinted at Jake. “Technically, it’s really none of your business anymore, is it?”
Jake liked that Eddie stood his ground. He’d need that determination to be with Marcy… and to survive the kids. “You may have a point there. Actually, you do have a point. But the kids seem to think it’s their business.”
Marcy burst into laughter, making both Jake and Eddie jump in their seats. “The kids? The kids? The kids are now adults, and they don’t even live here anymore. I can’t believe they put you up to this.”
“They’re worried. But, for the record, I did tell them you were a big girl and not likely someone to be taken advantage of.”
“So why the interrogation?” Marcy paused then pointed at Jake. “Erin used her oh-Daddy-please voice on you, didn’t she?”
“You know I can’t deny her anything when she uses The Voice,” Jake whined.
“At least I don’t have to worry about that,” Eddie interjected.
“Don’t be so sure. Erin always finds a way to get men to do exactly what she wants, just like her mother.” Jake patted Marcy’s hand. “I feel sorry for any man Erin settles on. He’ll have to get used to her having her way. I’m pretty sure you know what I mean.”
Eddie laughed and took Marcy’s other hand. “I like letting her have her way.”
“Thank you, sweetie,” Marcy said as she squeezed Eddie’s hand.
Jake scooped shredded beef onto another fry bread. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell the kids exactly what I figured out right away: you two are good together. And to quit acting like their mother is some poor senile woman.”
“They’ll forget all about me once you tell them your news,” Marcy said.
Jake glared and hissed at her.
Marcy waved him off. “Oh, please. Eddie knows all about it. You can’t have already forgotten my rule. Tell me something, know I’ll tell my partner.”
Jake hadn’t realized Marcy and Eddie were that serious. “I didn’t know that was the situation.”
Eddie nodded. “I moved in two months ago.”
“Okay. Do the kids know?”
“No, not yet,” Marcy said. “I’m going to tell them when they come home for Thanksgiving. You are coming for Thanksgiving, aren’t you?”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss that revelation for anything.”
“Maybe you’ll have someone to bring with you by then.”
Jake sighed. “Marcy.”
“I think that’s my cue to excuse myself.” Eddie pulled away from the table and stood.
Jake shook his head. “Really, you don’t have to do that.”
Eddie leaned over and gave Marcy another quick kiss. “I think you two need some time to talk, and I’ve got a sculpture waiting for me in the studio. We’ll see each other in the morning, okay?” He waved at Jake before leaving the room.
Marcy left the table and retrieved a large pitcher from the refrigerator. “I think this conversation calls for alcohol. Margaritas okay with you?”
“Sure.”
As Marcy returned with the pitcher and went off again to get glasses, Jake took a good long look at her. Her brown hair, now streaked with gray, flowed around her face and down her back. Her skin was darker now, probably from all the New Mexico sunshine she was getting. When she sat back down, Jake noticed she wasn’t wearing any makeup, something she never would have done in San Diego. Not that she’d ever needed it. Still, she looked healthy, young, and happy. Albuquerque—and Eddie—definitely agreed with her.
Jake took the drink Marcy offered him. “You look really great, Marcy. I can tell you’re really happy here. The kids, they’ll understand once they’re home. You’ll see.”
Marcy took a sip of her drink, thought about it, and then took a large gulp. “I know. The kids are just worried about me. I am worried about you.”
“Me?”
“When we got divorced and I moved away, you promised me you wouldn’t be that guy sitting alone in his apartment and eating takeout every night.”
Jake would have to drink faster if they were going to have this conversation. “I know I did. But I’ve been busy with the team—”
“You’ve had four years of off-seasons to get out, meet somebody. Did you even hook up? Take anybody home?”
“Of course I did.”
“Women or men?”
Jake drained his glass and refilled it. “Both.”
Marcy sighed. “Well, at least there’s that. And you never met anyone you wanted more from?”
“There were only two times in my life I ever wanted more from someone,” Jake snapped. “You know how those both ended.”
“I know how we ended. But the other… maybe you haven’t reached the end yet.”
All Jake knew was that “the other” was all he thought about anymore. During his marriage, he’d tried to put those thoughts away, but he’d completely given in to them since the divorce. He loved Marcy. He loved his children. But, God forgive him, sometimes he’d dreamed of what his life would have been like had he never made the choice that led him to them. He was crushed by guilt when he woke up.
“I can’t afford to think that way.” Jake scratched under his short beard. “I can’t get my hopes up like that.”
Marcy refilled her glass and topped off Jake’s. “Does he know you’re coming?”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t know why.”
“But he’s seriously dating again, right?”
Jake wanted to growl. He didn’t like thinking about Mikko seriously dating again. “Yes.”
Marcy took his hand. “Then all you can do is try. Maybe he’ll see that you’ve grown up, changed. You’re not a scared little boy anymore.”
“I might not be a little boy, but I’m terrified.”
“It’ll all work out like it’s supposed to.”
Like it’s supposed to. Jake hated that saying. He wanted it to work out like he wanted, damn it!
They sat at the table for a while, holding hands and drinking margaritas. The sun had gone down, and Jake stared at the moon shining down on the desert. As beautiful as it all was, he was ready to go home to hills and grass and trees.
Jake’s head was spinning a little, but he needed to know one more thing. “Us. We were good together for a while, weren’t we?”
“We were really good for a while,” Marcy said while she swayed in her chair. “You were an awesome husband, and you’re an awesome friend. I’m sorry we just weren’t awesome being married anymore.”
Jake lifted Marcy’s hand and kissed it. “I know. But you know what? We have two great kids. And we still like each other. How many couples who’ve known each other twentysomething years can say that?”
“Not a lot.” Marcy picked up the pitcher and sloshed the remaining contents around. “You wanna help me finish this off?”
Jake lifted his glass. “Absolutely.”