Chapter Five
Two days later, I was simply rung out and exhausted, and unable to perform anymore, no matter what I did. It was kind of a blessing in disguise as Mitch was too. He’d retreated from me, only caving in during sexy times, and the moment we were finished, he was back to zoning out.
“Okay, I can’t keep doing this.”
“I know what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it. I think.” He tipped his head to the side. “But Cedar, love, I need a break.”
“From me?” Oh, god, please let him say no. Tears poised on the edges, ready to burst free.
Mitch pulled me close. “Oh, heavens no. Never from you. I love you.”
Like a child, I curled into him. “Who is she? Who’s Jasmine?”
Beneath me, his chest inflated for a few heartbeats before deflating. “She’s nobody important.”
“Maybe not now, but she was once.” I stretched back to take in his face, to see whatever lurked behind his eyes.
“She’s not important. She wasn’t then, and she sure as hell isn’t now. She’s a bonafide troublemaker.” My sweet guy pushed me away. So much for a little cuddling.
Troublemaker? Maybe. I didn’t know her, so I couldn’t associate that with her. My friend Lily had a tumultuous past when she visited Cheshire Bay as a teen and apparently did a rash of bad things, but that’s not the person I knew now. Perhaps the same was true of Jasmine. Maybe she was a troublemaker, but she grew out of it. People changed as they matured. Most of them anyways.
“You’re not going to tell me anything about her? Obviously, she knows you, and knew you well.” It was leading, but whatever.
“Are you trying to pick fights?” His voice pitched and he crawled out from under me, standing in front of the tv.
“Not at all. I’m just asking.”
“Then drop it, okay. I said she was nothing important so just leave it at that.” He stormed to the door and retrieved his keys from the dish.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
I was afraid to ask but did it anyway. “When are you coming back?”
“I don’t know.”
The door slammed behind him, rattling the pictures on the wall. Pictures of us from vacations, hanging out at some of our favourite locales and in general, just being happy. And if Mitch was going out for a while, so was I. But I was going sleuthing.
Rather than drive to the airport and log into the computers to get Jasmine’s full name off the passenger manifest list and probably break a dozen confidentiality laws, I took the temporary high road and went to Amber’s, a dear friend of mine.
Amber’s Ale was a pub she owned and managed just a half block off the beach, and had an impressive outdoor sitting area, when the weather was nice. Otherwise, the bar blocked off the outdoor side and focused on selling drinks to the locals during the winter months. Amber had designed the floor plan to work all year long and considering it was one of the busiest pubs on the beach strip, I thought she was uber successful.
I walked into the musical styling of the Beach Boys playing from the 1960s era jukebox.
“S’up, chum?” She started to pour me a cool one, but I stopped her before she got very far.
“Not tonight. I need a clear head.”
“Everything alright?”
“No, I don’t think so, but I don’t know. Yeah, maybe.”
“Wow.” She whistled. “You are confused as all get out.”
I looked into Amber’s golden eyes.
“Geez, you look like you’re ready to cry.”
I nodded.
And she shook her head. “Not in my bar. You start crying, and Denny over there will chime in about his sister, and Georgina will think it’s time for buddy chat about some loser or something wild like that, and she’ll come over and sit with you. Nope, no tears in my bar.” She handed me a tissue and lowered her voice. “All that being said for the benefit of my patrons, what’s got your knickers in a knot?”
“Mitch.”
“Oh, frick. What’s with the men around this place lately? Is it something in the air?” She leaned on the hardwood bar. “What’ll I get you to drink?”
“Just a Coke.”
“Fair enough.” She filled a glass with ice and using a dispenser, topped it up with the dark soda, adding a cherry on top. “For you. Feel free to spill it. Your thoughts, not the drink.”
It was a weak attempt at humour.
“I think Mitch had an affair.” There, I voiced it. Something I’d been holding back for too long. Ever since the day Jasmine arrived, it’s been nagging at me. I bobbed the straw up and down in my drink and watched as the bubbles burst one by one when they reached the top. Something I totally understood.
“No shit! When?”
“Years ago.”
“And it’s only coming to light now?”
“His mistress got off the plane with her son. Their son.”
Amber’s jaw hit the top of the bar and she slammed it shut, her eyes narrowing into thin slits. “The bastard.”
“I was going to go and pull her personal information from the flight manifest.”
“Please tell me you didn’t? That’s nine shades of illegalness.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t. I stopped myself, but I wanted to.”
Oh boy, did I want to. And it wouldn’t even take me long to pull up her information – it’s there in the computer. Full names, address, birthdate of her and her son.
“Is that the foreign chick? The uptight looking one dragging her kid everywhere?”
“Probably.” Poor kid.
“And Mitch had an affair with her? Sheesh, if you’re going to screw someone, at least let them be like something out of a fantasy. She’s a dog.”
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh or cry at the thought. “Allegedly he had an affair, Amber. Allegedly.”
“What did the loser have to say about it?” Amber had zero tolerance for cheaters. Her father cheated on her mother, repeatedly. Then her last boyfriend really did a number when he messed around. She only found out about his affair when she came down with a mysterious STD and had to have the talk with the jerk. Now, even if infidelity is so much as hinted it, her instant revulsion for the cheater in question is epic.
“First off, he’s not a loser. I love him with all my heart.” Mitch was my guy. We had dreams. Not married ones though, but still the together forever kind. A couple of weeks ago we’ve even discussed the possibility of getting a dog. Only couples who were serious about longevity in their relationships did that, right?
“Just because you love him doesn’t make him a stand-up guy.”
It was true, but I didn’t want to think the worst of my sweet guy. “Well, he has been since I’ve known him.” I paused and wet my mouth with the bubbly soft drink. “And secondly, he hasn’t said anything about it. She got off the plane and introduced him as his son.”
“Yep. Guilty.” She shook her head and rose up to her full height. “Why’s he not talking about it? Because he’s guilty.” She punctured the air with the stab of her finger. “Why can’t guys commit? All of them, losers. Class-A losers.”
“Awe, Amber. Not all of them are.”
“Yeah, well, between you, Mom and me, we’re not batting a 400.” Her baseball terms went right over my head. “The jerk’s not talking about it, eh?”
“I think he’s in shock.”
She tipped her head back as she laughed. “Yeah, shock that he got caught. Excuse me.” Waltzing over to the other end of the bar, she mixed up a drink for a tall, decent looking guy.
He tipped his ball cap in my direction. “You look like you need a drink. Can I buy you one?”
“Sorry, not interested. I have a boyfriend.”
“Your loss, pretty lady.”
I wanted to gag. Gross.
Amber walked back, lifted my glass, and gave the counter a wipe down underneath. “Whatcha going to do about it?”
“I don’t know. It is wrong how the whole time we were together I never worried about that? Figured by time we had kids, Mitch would be all mine and I wouldn’t have to share?”
“Is that what’s really bugging you?”
I couldn’t answer. If I did, the threatening tears would fall.
Growing up, I had to share everything. It was the commune way. My clothes were fine for someone else to borrow, and vice versa. We shared the food we grew, and no one had any attachments as materialistic items were in rare supply. So, we shared and shared alike, including my parents who were part of a free love type of commune, and were encouraged to have sex with anyone and everyone. Of course, I had a biological dad, but I also had many half siblings, two from my mom and three from my dad. By numbers I had a big family, but I never had anyone to myself. My bio dad was off donating sperm everywhere possible, and my mom was willing to be impregnated by any and all.
I didn’t want that for Mitch and me, which when I found out I was pregnant, it made me so happy to know this child was going to get a father 100% of the time. Until Jasmine stepped off the plane and popped the perfect little bubble I’d hoped for.