The next morning, Nate sat on his usual bench at the park, watching Nathaniel play in the grass with the fire truck Monica had given him.
Nate glanced at his watch: 7:45 A.M. He wondered if Monica was going to appear.
As he did every morning, Nate came to the park with Nathaniel, but for the past two mornings, Monica did not show, and he had been starting to believe that she was serious about never meeting him there again. After he had gotten more information from Freddy than he had expected yesterday, Nate had returned to his office and dialed Monica at work.
“He misses you” was the first thing Nate said, after Monica had picked up.
It took her a minute to respond. “What do you expect me to do about that?”
“Visit us. Tomorrow morning at the park.”
“You know I can’t. I told you that.”
“Tell my son. Maybe he’d understand it better coming from you. When I tell him, he just crosses his arms, pokes his lip out, and says, ‘But I want Mommy.’”
Monica laughed. “Sorry. You’re the one who convinced him I was his mother.”
“I didn’t have to convince him. It’s true,” Nate said. “At least to me.”
There was a thoughtful silence.
“Besides,” Nate continued, “I want to talk to you about your stores. You never told me what your quarterly report looked like, and I think I have a business opportunity that you could benefit from.”
“I don’t know, Nate. I told you—”
“Think about it. If you decide yes, you know where I’ll be.”
Now, still sitting on the bench, Nate looked down the path Monica had come from the times she had visited. There was still no sign of her.
He took a sip of the coffee he had bought and felt to see if the cup he had bought her was still warm. It was.
“Is that for me?” Monica said, standing on the other side of him.
“If you keep on sneaking up on me…,” Nate said, standing and offering her a hug.
Monica looked at him oddly. “Nate, I’m not going there with you.”
“You don’t hug your male friends? Monica, please. I promise I won’t cop a feel.”
Monica allowed Nate to hug her. She gave him three friendly pats on the back.
They sat, and Nate handed Monica her coffee. “Carmel macchiato. Your favorite.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“And a French cruller,” Nate said, offering Monica a small paper bag. “Also your favorite.”
“There is no game to win, Nate. No points to score.”
“I know that. I’m just being the wonderful man that I am.”
Monica shook her head, sipping from her coffee. “Where is Nathaniel, so I can give him a hug?”
“He’s out there playing with his truck, but let me have a minute with you first. Tell me about the report.”
Monica smiled widely all of a sudden. “Oh, the profits we made this quarter, the margins—we did far better than I ever expected.”
“Congratulations. That’s wonderful!” Nate said. “Have you decided what you’re going to do with the extra revenue? I know you’re not just going to stick that in the bank.”
“No. I’m thinking about putting it into advertising time. Or maybe expanding the store. Or I know this is crazy, but maybe even looking to open another one. The properties are just so expensive.”
A huge smile spread across Nate’s face.
“What?” Monica said.
“I can’t believe this.”
“What?” Monica said, more excited.
“A guy I know just came to me a few days ago about a few warehouses he’s trying to unload. He said they were perfect for retail space.”
“You’re joking.”
“No. And he said he would sell them to me for a song.”
Monica eagerly scooted to the edge of the bench, “Do you think he still has them?”
“Only one way to find out,” Nate said, pulling his cell from his pocket. He dialed his friend’s number, waited for an answer, then said, “Bob, it’s Nate. You still have those warehouses that you came to me with the other day? Only one left, huh?” Nate said, looking in Monica’s eyes. “But it’s the best one? Hold it then. I have someone who I think is very interested. Yeah…yeah. Now I still get the friendship deal, right? Good.” Nate laughed, winking at Monica. “Okay…good, I’ll get back with you later today.”
Nate slapped his cell phone closed, then said to Monica, “He has one left. Just let me know when you want to check it out.”
Monica practically jumped in Nate’s lap as she threw her arms around him. “Thank you! Thank you!”
“Whoa, whoa!” Nate said. “I’m not going there with you, because there are no points to score.”
Monica slapped Nate playfully across the arm. “Shut up.”
“Ouch. Gentle. I’m still healing, remember.”
They laughed together, and then they sat in an awkward moment of silence.
“What are you doing, Nate?” Monica asked, all of a sudden.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you want?”
If Nate were to tell her the truth, he would’ve said he wanted to expose Lewis Waters for the loser clown he was. He wanted Monica to kick his ass out of her life, not just because he knew that would bring pain to Lewis, but because Nate knew Monica took joy from raising the man’s little girl. Nate would’ve told her that he also wanted to win Monica’s trust, have her agree to come back to him, think that everything would be as it was before when their marriage was good. He would allow her to fall in love with Nathaniel. He would try to convince Monica to trust him with her money, her assets, possibly get her to sign a power of attorney over to him. He would take everything he could, all the money she had swindled from him and everything she had bought with it. And if he could not get hold of her possessions, her finances, then he would just leave her again. He would leave her and hope that the loss of the tie she had developed with Nate’s son, and the loss of the love she had thought she had gotten again from Nate, would be too much for her to overcome. Nate wanted Monica to suffer horrendously and alone for the lies she had told him, for the years she made him waste with her without giving him children, and for the money she had stolen from him.
“Nate,” Monica said, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I said, what do you want?”
Nate looked into Monica’s eyes and said as sincerely as he possibly could, “Don’t you know? I want you.”