Chapter Twenty-Three

It turned out Nana wished to be cremated and no one knew until Mom found her will.

“That was just like Mom,” Nicole’s mother said. “Surprises right up until the end.”

They held a small gathering of her closest friends. They were all going to miss her terribly, but Nana had gone the way she always wanted to go—in her own house, in her sleep. One couldn’t ask for a better way.

It was good for Nicole to spend time with her family. It kept her from thinking about Wil. But after they left, he was all Nicole could think about. He invaded her dreams. Thoughts of him distracted her at work. And soon, pictures of the two of them would be in magazines all over the country.

“I never expected to fall in love with him,” Nicole told Annie over the phone.

“Tell him, Nic. What are you afraid of?”

“He wants nothing to do with me. He said I was too old for him. He called me a cougar, Annie!”

“I don’t believe he wants nothing to do with you. His pride is hurt. Besides, you’ll never know unless you go to him. Imagine if, after all the horrendous dates I have been on, I’d given up on men. I never would have noticed Rick.”

“Even in those Day-Glo shirts he wears?”

She groaned. “We are slowly weeding those out of his closet.”

Nicole smiled at her choice of the word we. “Rick’s definitely one of a kind.”

“So is Wil, and you know it.”

****

“Nicaroni, it’s your favorite ex-husband. Pick up the phone.”

It was Friday night and Nicole was screening her calls, which Stephen knew she regularly did.

“My night keeps getting better and better,” she said after picking up. “If you’re calling to talk to Josh, he’s spending the night at a friend’s house.”

“Actually, I’m calling to speak with you.”

Her stomach clenched. The last time they had anything resembling a conversation, Josh had ended up spending the summer in Brooklyn.

“O-kaay.”

“Chrissy and I are getting married.”

Nicole and Stephen’s entire marriage flashed before her eyes: Stephen proposing, their wedding day, Josh being born. The fights, Stephen packing suitcases, her signature on divorce papers.

“Are you still there, Nic?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” she said, and then the tears came.

“Hey Nic, don’t cry. I hate it when you cry,” he said, trying to soothe her. “I wanted you to be happy for me.”

“I am happy for you,” she told him, in a voice that sounded like Minnie Mouse.

“Why are you crying?”

Why was she crying?

“I don’t think I ever stopped thinking of you as my husband, and now you’re becoming someone else’s husband.”

Stephen hesitated. “You don’t want me back, do you?”

“I’d rather walk into my high school reunion two hundred pounds heavier and bald.”

He laughed, sounding incredibly relieved. “Then please, be happy for me like I would be for you. I know you’ll meet someone one of these days—”

Nicole let out a huge snort.

“—because you’re a terrific person, Nic. You just need to find the right man.”

“I thought I had,” she said softly. “Ten years ago.”

“Yeah, well, I know I should have tried harder. I realize that in hindsight. I gave up at the first sign of trouble, and I’m not proud of that. Even so, I don’t think we would’ve been able to make it work.”

“Not even for the sake of our son?”

“No, not even for the sake of our son.”

Both of them were silent for a moment. Nicole realized she now had something she didn’t have before: closure. Some women might get it when they sign divorce papers. For her, it was hearing that her husband was going to marry someone else. Now, if only it gave Nicole’s mother closure.

She let out a breath. “Congratulations, Stephen. I wish you nothing but happiness. I mean that.” And she did. It felt so much better than always wishing he’d step in front of a moving bus.

“Thank you.”

“I won’t say anything to Josh until you’re ready.”

“Tell him I’ll call tomorrow. ’Bye, Nic.”

“Goodbye, Stephen.” In the truest sense of the word.

****

Nicole had no idea what she was going to say when Wil’s mother answered the door. She was thrown even more when it was Eric who answered the door.

“Nicole!”

“Eric!”

Pez and Lola ran to her, yapping furiously all the way.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said.

“Come in,” Carmen said when she saw her.

Lit candles filled the living room, soft music played and wineglasses were filled. It was obvious she was interrupting a love fest.

“I’ll make this quick,” Nicole said. “Carmen, I’m in love with your son. He won’t answer my calls and I really need to explain some things to him. Would you happen to know where he is?”

She eyed Nicole warily for a long moment, then held up one finger as she reached for her cell phone and pushed a button.

“Hi, mijo, where are you?”

Just knowing Wil was on the other end sent waves of nervousness and longing throughout Nicole’s body. This was the closest she had been to him in weeks.

“I’m wondering if you had dinner, that’s all.” She turned to Nicole and winked. “Will you be there for a while?”

After disconnecting, she said, “He’s at Mojitos, the salsa club. Do you know it?”

Oh, she knew all right. “Thank you.”

“My son is very sensitive, you know. He may not always show it, but he is.”

Nicole smiled at her subtle warning not to hurt Wil—a mama-bear protecting her cub. She would have done the same for Josh.

“It’s one of the many reasons why I love him, Carmen.”

****

A woman entering a club alone is like throwing a female dog in heat inside a room full of unneutered male dogs. Nicole had at least three men approach her to dance before she reached the bar.

She spotted Wil sitting at a table surrounded by both men and women. Lucky for her none of the women were sitting on his lap or she’d have turned around and walked straight out the door. Since she wasn’t ballsy enough to walk up to him and say, “Hey Wil, how’s it going?” she chewed her lip for a while wondering what to do.

Nicole ordered a mojito for courage. She took a few sips and then an idea hit her. She called one of the waitresses over. “I’d like to buy a drink for the man sitting over there. The hot one in black.”

“Oh, you mean Wil,” she said with a knowing smile.

Nicole gave her the once-over, and then realized it was a waste of energy to torture herself wondering whether or not the waitress had slept with him. She kept her back to Wil’s table, hoping he wouldn’t recognize her right away when the waitress pointed out who had sent the drink over. A few minutes went by.

“Excuse me?” Wil said, tapping her shoulder.

Nicole turned around and saw a multitude of emotions passing through him: surprise and joy, which were then replaced by anger and aloofness.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “You have another date?”

“Would I be buying you a drink if I did?” He threw her a look implying he wouldn’t trust her as far as he could throw her, and Nicole quickly said, “Never mind.”

Wil stared at her for a long moment. “Listen, Nicole, I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I don’t feel like fighting tonight.”

“I didn’t come here to fight, Wil.”

I came here to drag you home with me.

He glanced at his table to see whether his friends were watching him. Of course they all were, and his body stiffened.

“Will you dance with me?” she asked, holding her breath, waiting for him to turn her down flat.

Instead of answering her, Wil surprised Nicole by grabbing her hand and leading her to the dance floor. “Nice dress,” he said under his breath, as he eyed her appreciatively.

She had bought it with him in mind. It was a sheer black chiffon halter dress with a solid red chiffon layer underneath, and it accentuated every curve she had. The hem was asymmetrical, and the slit on one side of her thigh was so high it practically reached her chin.

Wil and Nicole faced each other, their eyes locking. She smiled. He didn’t, which left her feeling so tense that when he caught the beat and stepped back, she wasn’t ready. Nicole ended up being a beat behind, trying to catch up to his steps.

Wil quickly stopped the dance and started it again, on beat, and pushed back on Nicole’s right arm to have her follow with a backward step. She took his lead and they managed to stay connected for a short while, until Wil said through gritted teeth, “Can you ease up a little on the death handgrip?”

As soon as he said that, Nicole looked away from him, embarrassed, and focused on her feet, which threw her completely off balance. Dancing, especially salsa had always been a sensual experience for them. It was now turning out to be another blaring example of how out-of-sync they had become.

She shook her head and walked off the dance floor. Wil followed.

“Nicole, where are you going?”

She didn’t answer him. She kept walking until she reached the door Wil had led her through that first night. It seemed like ages ago. Nicole pushed it open and went outside into the silence of the alley. Her cheeks were wet with tears.

Wil came out and walked the length of the alley to where Nicole was standing. Her back was to him.

“I said I wasn’t going to chase you anymore,” he said, turning Nicole around.

“So why did you?” she whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

He brushed a few of her tears away. “‘Reason is powerless in the expression of love,’” he said.

She looked up at him. “Did you just make that up?”

“I wish. No, Rumi did.”

Nicole reached out and held Wil’s face in her hands. “I came here to tell you that I love you. I want to be with you. You’re the one man, the only man I can imagine in my life, and around my son. I’m so sorry I hurt you by lying. That’s the last thing I’d ever want to do. And you’re right, I am—”

Wil silenced her with his finger.

She pulled back slightly and continued. “—a control freak. And you’re right, I do have a lot of emotional baggage, which I want to let go of. And I am wary of commitment, because I’ve been hurt before, and perhaps there is a tiny bit of truth in what you said about me being bitter about love and marriage, but I am willing to work on it.”

Wil disentangled himself from Nicole and walked over to the wall. He put both palms flat against it and let out a deep breath. Nicole panicked. She realized she’d said too much and now he wanted nothing to do with her.

“How can I trust that you won’t date someone else again?”

“I wasn’t dating him. It was a business dinner.” Nicole went to him. She stood close, without touching. “I did it as a favor for Annie so she could sell a house. He was interested in me, and going out with him was part of the deal. I never meant to hurt you, Wil.”

He turned finally to face her. “Don’t ever lie to me again. There are a lot of things I will tolerate, but lying isn’t one of them. I need you to respect that.”

Nicole nodded. “I promise.”

Wil leaned in to kiss her and she stopped him. “Hold on. There’s one more thing. You said I was too old for you.”

“I was trying to hurt you.”

“What are you going to do when I’m fifty?”

“Love you even more than I do at this very moment,” he answered without a moment’s hesitation.

“Good answer,” Nicole said.

He hugged her tightly. “Can I please take you home with me now?”

“Can I first try to redeem myself on the dance floor? I feel like I have two left feet.”

“Sí, mi amor,” he said, swooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the dance floor.

As Nicole prepared herself to dance, she allowed the sultry rhythm of the music to wash through her body. She thought of nothing else, except the incredible love and passion she felt for this man. When Nicole locked eyes with Wil, his intensity captured her, and as he pulled her close and took one step back, she followed. This time they were perfectly in sync.

A word about the author...

Tiffany N. York is originally from Brooklyn, New York. Once the charm of twenty-degree winters wore off, Tiffany went in search of a place with sunshine at least 330 days out of the year.

She now lives in southern California with her spirited son, diva Chihuahua, five to seven cats (depending on the day), and two very noisy parakeets. She writes fiction to escape reality.

You can visit her at

tiffanynyorkauthor.com