Chapter 19

 

Aunt Clara is just sitting down to the third section of her sandwich when we arrive. I’ve warned Adam about the heat in her apartment, so he’s in a t-shirt.

“Well, just look at you two. Been busy since lunch, have ya?” she asks, making no attempt to spare my acute embarrassment. “Looked like somethin’ the cat dragged in this mornin’.” A gnarled finger points at me.

Adam is once again clued in as to how bad-off I was without him. He puts his arm around my shoulders and tells Clara, “I’ll see that she wakes up in better shape from here on out.” Fight fire with fire, baby.

She grins mischievously at us, and makes me eat a Nutter Butter before I can leave. The lady must think those cookies are the base of the food pyramid. She’s a dietician’s nightmare.

On the way back to Adam’s car, my cell rings. It’s a call from my house. “Hello.”

“Hi.” It’s Mike, of course. “Just checkin’ you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, thanks. You?” This is a weird conversation, and doomed to get weirder.

“Mandy, where are you? It’s late to be out walking. Do you need a ride?”

“No, I’m with somebody. Thanks for asking.” Please let this go. Please let this go.

Adam has figured out who it is, and is watching me expectantly. Expecting what, I can’t tell. We get in the Jag, while Mike pushes on.

“Okay, just wanted to make sure. But the Durango’s here.”

“Mike, I know other people with cars. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

I’m going way easy on him, and Adam scowls.

“What time will you be back?”

“Mike! I’m hanging up now.” I toss the phone in my purse in disgust.

Adam is shaking his head. “You wanta go by there, get this over with?”

“So then one day he hits the angry part of divorce, and he tells the kids Mom was sleeping with Mr. Treadmill before Dad moved out, and it’s her fault our family’s a shambles? No thanks.”

“You must’ve been Catholic growing up.”

“Why?”

“You have massive quantities of guilt. What did you do to him, anyway?”

I look out the window, trying to fight the self-reproach. I know what Mike did was worse, but I’m not acclimated to purposely hurting others, especially those I love. I guess I was caught up in being the injured spouse.

“When I realized he was still sneaking around with Lana, while trying to win me back, I set out to prove it. Then I tricked him into believing I wanted to reconcile.”

I’m not looking at Adam, but I can hear his breathing getting deeper, shorter. He still hasn’t started the Jag.

“He broke it off with Lana Christmas Eve morning, because he thought we’d be together again. I followed him and Lana outside at Brad’s and recorded them arguing and her…trying to suck him back in.” Such an accurate description. “He turned her down cold, then came inside and in front of all our friends, gave me a huge ring and proposed again.”

I have to look at Adam now, see what he thinks.

He’s grinning. “And?”

Deep breath. He’ll think I’m a cold bitch when he hears. “I exposed him and Lana, rejected his proposal, then gave him back our wedding band.”

“So Lana got dumped, and then Mike did too. You broke his heart?”

“Hard and fast.” It still feels good to know I managed it, though in my heart I know it was a vile, inhuman thing.

“Was it sweet? Revenge?”

“Bittersweet.” I shrug.

“And you know it’ll hurt him more if he knows he’s already been replaced.”

“You’re not a replacement, Adam. You’re an upgrade. But I guess I’d like to spare him that pain for as long as possible. Will you humor me?”

“Only because I pity him, for losing what he had.”

Excellent answer, lover. “Thanks.”

“Where should we eat?”

“Feel up to meeting Mark’s wife?” Might as well get him over this fear of Big Brother.

“Will Mark be there?”

“Chickenshit.”

He’s cornered and he knows it. “Which way to his house?”

* * * *

Mark is surprised to see me at his door. “Hey. Figured you’d be shacked up all night.” He looks at Adam as if implying he’s inferior for not lasting longer.

Adam looks defensive and intimidated already. I know how to take care of this.

I stand on tiptoe to pat Mark’s cheek, and tell him, “If ya know what you’re doing, it doesn’t take as long to do the job, Bro.”

Mark grins and tips his head at me.

Kenna laughs beside him.

“Kenna, this is Adam. Adam, my sister-in-law Kenna,” I say.

He says, “I hear you cuss like a trucker.”

It makes Kenna blush profusely, but Mark is won over by any guy who teases a girl. Poor Kenna. I don’t know how she puts up with him and his incessant taunting.

When Kenna and I leave to pick up Chinese, the guys have their feet up on the coffee table watching the end of a football game. We’re making plans for the New Year’s party.

She tells me Ben has spilled the beans to Mom about my marriage. I guess in the back of my mind I was hoping he would, so I wouldn’t have to. Mom was sad for me, but places the blame with Mike, not me, from what she told Kenna.

The Chinese place must think we’re feeding one hell of a crowd tonight, from the huge order we picked up. Mark always eats like a horse, and tonight my appetite is surging. Aunt Clara should be pleased after I’ve been eating with Adam for a couple of weeks.

* * * *

It’s Monday, and I’m down in my office trying to get all the year-end stuff together for the business. I’ve given up hope of trying to write this week. Between my head being in the clouds over Adam, and all the bookkeeping I have to do, my book will have to go on hold. I just bet the new editor I’ll be working with will be more patient with me than the last, at any rate.

I yawn and toss away the envelopes and advertising inserts from the year’s bank statements. It was pretty late when Adam drove me home last night. After dinner at Mark’s, we returned to Adam’s house. Since he still had his Christmas tree up, we went ahead and made love under it. The poor thing is in pretty bad shape from Rascal climbing up the trunk and then trying to walk out on the limbs. Silly cat was bent on attacking Adam’s feet while we were trying to be amorous. Adam finally plucked a round ornament from the tree and then locked Rascal in the spare bedroom with it.

We fell asleep, snuggled together on the floor in front of his fireplace. Waking in his arms was pure bliss and I had a hell of time convincing myself to brave the cold and come home before morning.

My phone is ringing. I hope it’s Adam.

No.

Sigh.

“Hi, Mike.”

“Hey, baby.” God, I wonder when he’ll kick the habit of calling me that. If I don’t reply, will he take the hint? “Um. Just checkin’ in.”

“I’m getting stuff ready to send to the accountant next week.”

“Oh. So…you wanta go with me to Mark’s on New Year’s?”

I can just see him standing there with one hand holding his cell to his ear, and the other jammed in his pocket.

“I don’t think so. Mark’s not feeling so hospitable to you right now.”

Silence. Mike knew this. Christmas Day, he knew Mark was only letting him in his house so our kids wouldn’t have their holiday wrecked. Did Mike really think he could date me now and somehow ingratiate himself with my brother again?

Let me take said possibility right off the table. “I have…” It’s so hard to tell my husband I have a date. My mouth is suddenly dry, in contrast to my skin, where a cold sweat just broke out. “Um, I’ll be going to the party with somebody else.”

“Brad?” he snaps.

Just as quick, I answer, “No. Mark set him up with one of Kenna’s girlfriends.” Thank God, because I really didn’t want to lead Brad on any longer.

“Who?”

His demanding tone ticks me off, so I’ll drop my other little bomb on him, too. “That’s my business, not yours. And I’ll be leaving town overnight Thursday. I’ll be back late Friday, so if you wanta stay at the house again–”

He cuts me off with, “Overnight? Where you goin’? With who?”

“Mike.”

“What the fuck?” he yells.

“Oh, this is classic, Michael. This is exactly why I told you that little idea of yours where I even the score would never work. We’re over, you and me. Go to the bar with some of your friends or something. I know you have other options for New Year’s Eve.” I’d half like to be bitchy and tell him to ask Lana out.

“Jesus, Mandy. I’m tryin’ to work here and you’re tellin’ me you’re dating somebody already and you’re goin’ on an overnight trip, but you won’t tell me where or with who?”

“Shit. I’m going on a snowmobile trip. With him, okay? Do you feel better?”

I get the background noise of a nail gun, but that’s it.

“Mike?”

“Fine. Fuck you.”

Wow. Mike hung up on me. He’s never hung up on me before. That did not go at all as planned. I’d hoped to let him think I was going overnight with friends somewhere. I’d hoped he wouldn’t want to go to Mark’s party.

So much for wishful thinking.

* * * *

It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m in the powder room at Mark’s, touching up my lipstick. Adam seems to be fitting in well with Mark and his pals, though I can only hope he’ll never become quite as big a sports fan as they are. The idea of him hanging in Mark’s garage every weekend with them…geez.

More than a few eyebrows have raised here tonight when I’m standing close to Adam. Funny how the brows of the women stay raised as they check him out a little longer. He’s dressed in khakis and a nice green shirt with a tie. The tie really turns me on. I can’t wait to get him alone and loosen it. I had to go out and buy a new little black dress, since my old one was too big. Maybe later when Adam removes my dress, I’ll model the tie for him. Hmm.

Tomorrow, I get to meet Adam’s parents and Brenda up in Aspen before he and I snowmobile out to their cabin. I’m a little anxious about meeting the parents, his mom especially. They’re so worldly and I’m…not. But I’m excited about spending tonight and tomorrow night with Adam. I haven’t slept over at his house yet. All night in his arms, wow. Can’t wait.

Over Queen pumping through Mark’s state-of-the-art home sound system, I hear yelling. A very familiar voice. “Where’s he at, goddammit?”

Mike. My heart immediately starts pounding. What the hell is he doing here? I’d better go out before he makes a scene at Mark’s party like I did at Brad’s.

I step into the dimly lit hallway, bundle up my suddenly frayed nerves, and walk to the living room.

Adam is standing in the kitchen near the veggie tray watching, with a vein standing out on his neck.

Kenna must have gone for Mark, because he’s following her in from the garage.

“Mike. What are you doing here?” I ask. His eyes are bloodshot already, which means he’s been drinking for some time. “Tell me you didn’t drive like that.”

Mike ignores my question, looks me up and down, then shakes his head. “Where’s he at? Where’s fucking Danny?”

“Danny?” What would Mike want with him?

“I seen him checkin’ you out on Christmas. Where’s he–”

“I’m right here, Lawson. You want somethin’?”

As Danny gets in Mike’s face, I shoot Mark my Please Help Me, Now! Look.

“Came ta kick yer ass,” Mike asserts.

Two of his employees move up behind him.

“Nobody’s kickin’ any ass in my house,” Mark booms. “Lawson, I don’t see your name on the guest list. Kenna, was his name on the list?”

Poor Kenna is appalled speechless–her southern hospitality is taking quite a beating tonight.

Without missing a beat, Mark orders, “Take it outside.”

Mike and Danny head toward the door, with Mike’s guys following. Jesus, I can’t deal with another scene like this. Thank God almost everybody is out in the garage right now.

As I reach the door, Adam’s hand covers my shoulder.

I can’t let this stupidity go any further.

Before I have a chance to stop it, Mark steps in. “Lawson, what’s your beef with Danny?”

From a double-parked truck, I see three girls hanging out the windows and giggling. The guys with Mike turn to them and wave. Cute. Three guys, three girls.

Stepping forward, I announce, “I’m not here with Danny, Mike.”

“Hu…” Mike hiccups. “…uh?” He turns to face me and sees Adam’s hand still on my shoulder. “Oh. Treadmill guy. What the…oh!” His confusion solidifies and becomes anger. “What the fuck?” His hands fist up and he steps forward like the drunken fool he is.

Adam takes a step closer, also.

“Hey, Boss?” A finger taps Mike’s shoulder. “C’mon, man. Be cool. Let it go. You got another piece waitin’ in the truck, man.” At least one of them has figured out Adam is no small guy and probably able to kick some serious ass.

“Yeah,” Mike sneers. “I’ve moved on anyway.” He tries to be cool and saunter away, but trips down the last step and hiccups hard as he’s regaining his footing.

Mark and Danny guffaw as Mike glares back at them.

So Mike’s out picking up one-nighters from the bar. God, I hope he uses a rubber so they don’t catch whatever Lana carries.

“Damn. I really wanted to kick that shithead’s ass,” Danny complains as he follows Mark inside.

“You all right?” Adam asks me.

“Yeah. Okay if I sleep at your place tonight?” I’m in no mood to deal with Mike showing up drunk at all hours ready to fight. Or anything else.

When he spins me around to capture my mouth with his, all I want is to leave the party and go home with him.