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Authors: Theresa Ellson

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BOOK: Hard Choices
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Chapter 20

 

“Wait a tic,” said Molly the next day, after I’d filled her in on my last date with Matthew. She’d dropped by my office after her last class. “None of your kids are going to spend Thanksgiving with you?” Molly sounded horrified.

“It’s OK, Molly, really,” I said, only half-convinced myself. After talking to Matthew, I’d decided I should probably check in with my kids. Turned out, Danny couldn’t get leave, Kyle was spending the holiday with Claudia’s family in Montana, and Scott had wisely asked Becca before I could. “Actually, I didn’t even think to ‘invite’ them,” I explained to Molly. “It didn’t even occur to me!” I had just assumed all my kids would be home for Thanksgiving. Shows what I knew.

“So you’re coming to Robert’s then, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I was hoping to finagle an invitation,” I smiled.

Molly reached across my kitchen table and slapped my arm. “Doofus. Of course! You better check with Alan, though. Make sure you sign up for the appropriate dish!”

I nodded. My family had joined Robert and Alan for Thanksgiving a few times, but Scott had always felt out of place. And truthfully, I love cooking that meal, so I had never minded.

“If it makes you feel any better,” I said in a confidential tone, “I made Kyle promise that Christmas would be
here.
I suggested arranging to have Christmas Eve with Scott, but I want my kids on Christmas morning.” I’d told Becca and Danny the same thing, and they’d agreed it was perfectly reasonable.

Kyle had said, depending on travel conditions, that he and Claudia were talking about going to Montana for New Year’s, but that seemed like “planning too far ahead,” so they hadn’t solidified anything. My son. Ever the romantic.

“Matthew’s coming, too,” Molly said slowly, I nodded. “So are you and Matthew coming as a, you know, as a couple?” Molly asked, pretending to be casual.

“Crap, I don’t know, Molly!”

“Sorry! Didn’t mean to pry!’

“You’re not, you’re not,” I assured her. I sighed heavily.

“So what’s up?”

“I like him, Molly. I mean, I
really
like him. Like, can’t stop thinking about him!”

“Not like Aaron?” she said shrewdly.

“No,” I said emphatically. “Not like Aaron. I mean, I had Aaron on the brain a lot, but just because I was always thinking about boinking his brains out,” Molly laughed, “but I find myself thinking about,” I gulped, “a future with Matthew. Like, wanting to be with him.”

A slow smile spread across Molly’s face. “And that’s bad because…?” she spread her hands in front of me.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” I almost whined.

“Lyssa! The first night he met you, he told you he was done playing the field and ready for a real relationship, right?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that he’ll want that relationship with me!”

Molly was quiet for a second. “You’re right,” she exhaled.

“What? Molly!”

“Lyssa, you’re right. There is no guarantee that this will work out between you two. Who knows? Why not take a chance, though?” Now I exhaled.

I looked out the window, thinking.

“Ugh!” I finally said, “I
hate
this, Mol! This is really scary,” I was almost whining again. “It was so much easier with Aaron.”

“That’s because it was never, ever going to go anywhere with him, and you knew it,” she said sagely. “Lyssa, you went into the Aaron thing knowing
exactly
how it would end. Hell, you knew exactly
when
it would end. This terrifies you because it’s an unknown. And I
get
that. But if you never take a chance in life, where will that leave you?”

I pretended to sulk. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“Then you must be unhappy a
lot
,” Molly said innocently as I laughed. “We’re going shopping on Black Friday, though right?” Molly and I had been hitting the Black Friday sales for years. Sometimes Alan came. The last few years, Becca had been coming along, too.

“Oh
hell
yes! I told Becca I’d forgive her for Thanksgiving if she’d spend Thanksgiving night at my house and go shopping with us on Friday.”

“Atta girl!” said Molly, clinking my coffee cup. “Guilt is an underused tool in your arsenal.” She leaned back on my office couch. “Now, are you going out with Matthew tonight?”

My cell phone rang at precisely that moment. It was Matthew. I showed Molly the phone and said, “I guess I’m about to find out. Hello?” I answered the phone trying to sound normal.

“Lyssa,” his gravelly voice sent a rush of warmth through my body. I’d never heard his voice over the phone before.

“Hi Matthew,” I sounded breathless and bimboish to my own ears.

“Listen, I am sorry to do this, honey,” his endearment made my heart flutter. Flutter. I was really in trouble. “but I have to fly down to Tucson today. My aunt fell and broke her hip last night, and my mom asked me to go down and help get things sorted out.” He sighed. “I am sorry. I should only be gone a couple of days.”

“God, Matthew, don’t worry about me!” Molly looked at me quizzically. “Go! Take care of your family. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Thanks, Lyssa, you’re the best. I’ll let you know as soon as I know when I’m getting home.”

“OK, take care, Matthew. Bye.”

I explained things to Molly and said, “I know this is selfish, but I am actually kind of glad. It’ll give me a couple of days to cool off. After that first date, making out in his car like a couple of kids, then last night when he took me home,” I shook my head, “I don’t know how much more will power I have in me.”

“Well you’re gonna have Big Ed in you all weekend,” Molly mumbled into her coffee cup. I laughed and slapped her arm. “I noticed you’re not bothering to deny it!” she said indignantly.

“What Big Ed and I have is real and special,” I said in my best pearl-clutcher voice, “and I will thank you not to cheapen it!”

Molly rolled her eyes and we both laughed.

 

***

 

Matthew called me from Arizona the next day.

“Hi, Lyssa,” he greeted me.

“Hey, Matthew. You sound decidedly less anxious than you did yesterday. How’s your aunt?”

“It’s nowhere near as bad as it could have been. My aunt is kind of a bad-ass,” he laughed. “We found a really high-end rehab facility for her, and my mom and I got everything set up. She’ll be transferred on Tuesday. I’ll make sure she’s settled, and fly out on Wednesday.”

“Don’t you want to stay and have Thanksgiving with your family?” I asked.

“I offered,” he explained, “but my mom can read me really well. She could tell I was anxious to get home.”

Anxious. To get home. To me. “Should I feel a little bad about taking you away from your mom for the holiday?” I bit my lip.

“No, don’t worry about my mom. She’s as big a bad-ass as her sister. She already called around to find a restaurant that will deliver her and my aunt a fantastic meal in the rehab facility, because she doesn’t trust them to do a good enough dinner!”

“Wow. Your mom does sound impressive,” I said “and formidable. But wait – Wednesday? The day before Thanksgiving? You’ll never get a flight, Matthew!” I was suddenly so disappointed.

“Oh, um, yeah. About that. I flew myself down here,” he said quietly.

“You did what now?” I asked confused.

“We hadn’t gotten to this yet, but I am a licensed pilot. And I, uh, I…um, I own a plane.”

I couldn’t help it: I laughed. “Why do you sound so… ashamed?”

“I don’t know. I hate being that douchebag guy, showing off.”

“You’re not showing off, Matthew. You’re telling me the truth. I mean, you already told me about your beach house in Portugal – ”

“Which I cannot wait to show you,” he interjected.

That threw me. He was planning things with me? Or was this a “get in her pants” comment? I wasn’t sure, so I chose to ignore it. “And, cards on the table,” I continued. “Molly told me
which
startup you were involved with. So, I mean, I’m not shocked you own a plane.” He was quiet. “Matthew? Matthew? Are you still there?” Oh my god, I was so stupid! Why did I say that?

“Yeah, it’s a little weird for me, honestly, Lyssa,” every time he said my name, my stomach turned over. “In the Seattle area, I am a lot more well-known than I’d like. I was always leery when I started dating someone new.”

I put a fist on my hip, trying not to be annoyed. “Do I have to tell you that I’m not interested in you for your money? I mean, you
were
in that car with me the other night in the parking lot, right?”

He laughed out loud. “Oh, so that’s it! You’re just after me for my body!”

“Duh,” I said. “I thought I’d made that perfectly clear,” I said sarcastically.

“You’re amazing, Lyssa.” My insides flip-flopped again.

“And you have the sexiest phone voice ever,” I said quietly. “If that start up thing hadn’t worked out, you could have made a million just saying women’s names to them over the phone.”

“Oh really? Lyssa?” he changed his pitch just slightly, so it was a little lower, a little deeper, making it a little more gravelly.

The flutter in my insides extended down until I felt a palpable heat between my legs. “Really, Matthew,” I said quietly.

“We better get off the phone,” he said, “I’m wearing jeans again and I don’t want to injure myself.”

I giggled and said, “Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, Wednesday. And Lyssa?” Flip-flop. “You really do have the cutest giggle.” I felt myself blush. BLUSH.

“Will I see you Wednesday night?” I asked breathlessly.

“I will do everything in my power to make that happen. Lyssa.” I shuddered and we said our goodbyes.

 

***

 

Matthew called me every day from Arizona, and we talked for hours. In between all our shameless flirting, I got to know even more about him. His mother had called him because she knew he’d find the best facility for her sister
and
he’d pay for it. It didn’t sound like anyone in Matthew’s family was uncomfortable asking him for money when they needed it.

“Between my mom and me, we managed not to spoil Audrey,” he explained during one of our calls. “My dad made good money his whole life, and my parents did not spoil me. That was a big part of the reason we moved out of the city. I saw so many rich, spoiled brats. Audrey had a job all through high school. Of course, she was able to take unpaid internships in college. And I bought her a car – a reasonable car, she wanted a BMW, but I got her a Honda – but she’s a good kid.”

“Wow, Matthew, I respect the hell out of that,” I said sincerely.

“What about your kids?”

I told him all about my “three favorite maniacs,” how different they were. I told him about the hard parts about raising them – we commiserated on the low points of dealing with hormonal girls, but I assured him boys could be just as bad.

“That’s hard to imagine! Audrey drove me nuts from about age eleven to seventeen. Her senior year in high school, we finally stopped battling over everything.”

“I hear you. Scott was always trying to be their buddy; I got to lay down the law when they were being jerks.” Matthew laughed.

I liked that it was so easy to talk about my marriage with Matthew. He seemed to view Scott as a neutral topic, although he did say, “Hard to imagine that Scott thought he could improve on
you
.”

I’d laughed at that and said, “Well now you’re just feeding my ego!”

“Seriously though, Lyssa, it’s been less than a year. You’re really OK with it? You’re really ready to move on?”

Trying to read his tone over the phone was hard. “Before I answer that, I have to ask you something: are you asking that question in a general way, or is there something more specific about it?”

Matthew paused. “Both, I think. But you got me. I have been worried about being your rebound. I don’t want that, Lyssa. I like you way too much to be willing to settle for that.”

Flutter, flutter. “You are not my rebound guy, Matthew. I can assure you. For one thing, it was over with Scott long before he left. And for another, I had a rebound guy. Last summer. It was quick, it was fun, and it was over very fast.”

“Hmmm. So I have competition?” He almost growled. God, his voice was so sexy.

“Not even a little bit,” I said quietly.

We talked for a while more then hung up, both eagerly awaiting Wednesday night.

Chapter 21

 

Wednesday night did not happen. Between dicey weather and busy airports, it took Matthew forever to get home. At ten pm, he finally texted me not to wait up, and told me he’d see me at Robert’s and Alan’s for dinner the next day.

I slept fitfully, and woke up feeling groggy. I spent all morning trying to decide what to wear to the holiday dinner. I knew what I
wanted
to wear: yoga pants. But I figured I could find something a little nicer that would still let me eat myself into a coma.

I was nervous, though. Matthew was coming home. There was no reason why we couldn’t finally,
finally
, move things along. I wanted to. I knew he wanted to. My body was ready.
More
than ready. I just wasn’t sure my heart was.

 

***

 

“Lyyyysssssa!” Alan sang as I came through the door. “Do you have rolls for me?”

“Of course, your highness,” I handed him the huge basket of fresh baked rolls, wrapped in a napkin. “We just need to pop them in the oven a few minutes before dinner to warm them up again.

“Oh my god, they smell sooooo good,” Molly sneaked up behind Alan and tried to steal one.

“Stop that!” Alan slapped her hand. “What is wrong with you, woman? There is a table full of appetizers in the living room. Those rolls are for dinner. Heathen!”

Alan snatched the rolls out of my hand and marched into the kitchen. Molly and I headed into the living room, where the big screen TV played the Rose Bowl, but, mercifully, silently. Alan and Robert liked football, but they also liked conversation at their parties, bless them.

We came into the living room to face the backs of several heads turned toward the silent TV, transfixed as a football sailed across the enormous television screen. As the receiver let the pass slip through his fingers, there was a collective outcry of displeasure. Matthew, I saw, threw his head back and groaned. That’s when he noticed me.

“Lyssa!” he jumped up and ran around the couch, giving me that smile that had caused me to give Big Ed such a workout while he’d been gone. He hesitated for a second, not sure what to do, just smiling at me for a second. Finally I leaned forward, and he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered in my ear, and I shivered.

I’ll never make it through dinner
, I thought.

But I did. We talked and laughed and flirted all night. Of course he sat next to me at dinner. After dessert, feeling bold from the Sauvignon Blanc, I guess, I reached under the table and took his hand. He pulled it up to his mouth and kissed the back of my hand. Right in front of everyone. Then he leaned over and whispered in my ear again: “I really missed you.” He leaned back and brushed my hair back. “Me too,” I said quietly. We sat there smiling at each other for a few seconds until Alan cleared his throat.

“I
saaaid,
” said Alan pointedly, “Who’s ready for
A Christmas Story
?” 

I groaned and laughed. “I had completely forgotten about that family tradition.” Every Thanksgiving, the whole family watched Ralphie vie for, and finally get, his Red Rider BB gun.

A few of the other guests begged off, but Molly, J.J. and her son Jared were all ready to settle in. Matthew looked at me searchingly, questioningly. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I was thinking: could tonight finally be “it”?

But I said, “I have to hit the road. Becca is spending the night with me tonight, and, of course, I need to get a few hours of shut eye before Black Friday starts!”

“Do you have to go right now?” asked Matthew. “How about one more cup of decaff?”

“That’d be great, thanks,” I smiled, not realizing everyone else had gotten up. We were alone in Robert and Alan’s huge dining room, on the other side of the kitchen from the living room.

Matthew and I heard the others’ conversation as background, but we just sat there, smiling at each other like idiots.

“I really missed you, Lyssa,” he said again, quietly, still holding my hand and slowly rubbing his thumb along the back of it.

“I missed you, too. I’m glad you’re back.”

“So you don’t have the house to yourself tonight, huh?”

I smiled, glad we were on the same page. “No. Becca is heading over to Spokane tomorrow night, though. She’s spending the weekend with some school friends. I guess moms are boring,” I chuckled.

“Lucky for me you’re so ‘boring,’” Matthew said as he leaned in again. And this time he really kissed me. I ran my hand up the back of his neck and pushed my fingers through his thick black hair. All too soon for me, he pulled back again. “If you keep kissing me like that, I won’t care if your daughter
is
in the next room,” he said huskily. I was already aroused, and about ready to sneak him into one of Robert and Alan’s guest rooms. But I wasn’t
that
brazen.

“Can I take you out for dinner tomorrow night?” he asked.

I laughed, “I’m not sure I’ll be hungry again any time before December,” I said truthfully.

“A movie? A play? A drink?”

“Tell you what, after I recover from tonight’s meal, and tomorrow’s shopping extravaganza, and get a nap,” Matthew chuckled, “I’ll call you, and we can see what we’re in the mood for,” I shrugged, trying to be casual, but Matthew’s eyes suddenly went from warm and sensual to hunting mode. The warm green pools were suddenly hot emeralds, and I couldn’t rip my eyes away.

“I think I already know what I’m in the mood for,” he said in a low voice.

I swallowed, suddenly feeling like the prey in this scenario. I had kept so much of myself private from Aaron, while at the same time being completely open. I suddenly felt like I would have no such privacy with Matthew. He would see everything. He would know everything. I felt pulled in – and terrified at the same time.

“Um,” I hedged and nervously tucked my hair behind my ear, “I just meant,” I shrugged nervously, “let’s just see what we, um, feel like doing tomorrow night?” It sounded as lame as it felt to say. I had already been pretty clear I was ready to move things along with him. Now I sounded like some teenage tease. Matthew’s gaze didn’t change. I knew what
he
felt like doing tomorrow night. Hell,
I
sure felt like doing that right now. I’d give him my body willingly – would he want the rest of me, too?

“Walk me to my car?” I said, standing up.

“Sure,” Matthew stood up, too, but said, “Give me a second,” then he turned so he was facing me and his back was to anyone who might glance in. “I need to… adjust before I rejoin the group.” I looked down and saw what he meant by the bulge in his jeans. Holy shit, that was hot. I looked away as I felt a warmth spread across my chest, and flush my face pink.

I stopped into the living room and said my goodbyes. Alan reminded me to grab my leftover plate, already wrapped and ready to go. That man was efficient.

Then Matthew walked me to my car, holding my hand, not saying anything. He kissed me again, by my car, slowly and gently, one hand in my hair, one around my waist, cradling the small of my back. I leaned into him, letting our bodies meld as much as I could. Matthew groaned as I slid my hands up his back, pulling him into my chest, so my breasts were pressed up against him.
Nice one, Lyssa,
I thought,
this is called giving the man “mixed signals,” and it’s not cool.

They weren’t mixed, though. Every fiber of my being wanted to strip him naked, touch him from head to toe, and feel him inside of me.

Finally he pulled away. “I could do this all night,” he smiled at me, “but
I’m
not wearing a coat, and it’s starting to snow.”

I laughed as a stray snowflake landed on my eyelash. “I didn’t notice!”

“That’s because you’re not freezing your… fingers off,” he smiled, but his obvious almost-reference made me blush.

He opened the car door for me and stepped back. I slid into the seat of my car and started it up. Matthew leaned in one more time, kissed me gently on the cheek, then pulled back and looked into my eyes. “Get a good nap,” he smiled, “you’re going to need the rest.”

I smiled nervously as he closed the door. I drove away with my heart pounding.

 

***

 

I pulled into the garage, and walked into the downstairs rec room, still smiling to myself.

“Hey Mom!” Becca bounced off the couch, already in pajamas, and threw her arms around me.

“Hey, baby!” I hugged her tight. “Oooh! It’s so good to see you!” I buried my nose in her hair. I did that to all my kids. They always teased me about “huffing their hair,” but to me, they still smelled like happiness. “You’re home early,” I pulled back and plopped a kiss on her cheek. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” she said, shrugging and obviously equivocating. “I mean, dinner was fine, and it’s been almost a year now, so it’s not so… uncomfortable being around Dad and Sarah. It’s just,” she sighed, “it’s weird. It’s weird,” she shrugged again. “You and Dad have been great, Sarah’s great. Even Kyle seems to have calmed down about it. But – never mind.” She shook her head and looked down.

“No, Becca. Tell me. What?” She sighed again, and I heard a little catch in her throat: she was trying not to cry. “Oh, honey,” I pulled her back into my arms. “It just makes you sad? That we’ll never be a ‘family’ again? Like we were?”

She nodded, and broke my heart when she sobbed against my shoulder. “Becca, I’m so sorry,” I stroked her hair and held her tight. “There is no way to pretend that divorce isn’t hard. It’s like a death. You have to mourn. I’m sad, too,” and as I said it, I realized how true it was – I was sad for my kids. I held onto my little girl as she wrapped her arms around my waist and cried into my shoulder. I would have given almost anything to shield my kids from this pain. But it was a part of life. All I could do was hold her while she cried. I felt helpless.

“Mo-o-om,” she stuttered. “Can I stay here tomorrow night, too? I have to be at Angie’s Saturday night, but I’d really,” she pulled away and wiped her eyes, “I’d really like to stay here one more night.”

“Of course, honey! This is still your home! You don’t have to ask! You can always stay here!”

“Thanks,” she sniffled and walked over to the end table to grab a tissue. “I guess I need to grow up a little, huh?”

“Bullshit,” she looked up at me, startled. “If by ‘growing up,’ you mean not needing your parents, and not needing to feel safe and secure, then no, you do not need to grow up. That’s being human, not childish,” I kissed her head again as I walked past her. “Now
I
am going upstairs to get on
my
pajamas, and then I will come watch with you,” I glanced at the TV and saw a rerun of
Grey’s Anatomy
“to see what Meredith is up to now. And then, young lady, you and I are going to bed, because you
know
Molly is going to be ringing our doorbell at four am!”

Becca chuckled and snuggled back onto the couch. “I’m glad we’re still doing Black Friday,” she smiled.

“Wouldn’t miss it, sweetie.” I smiled at her and headed up the stairs.

 

***

 

I was brushing my teeth a while later when it suddenly dawned on me that Becca’s new plans meant that my plans with Matthew would have to be put on hold. I glanced at the clock and decided it was early enough to risk texting him.

 

Hey there. Becca asked if she could stay tomorrow night, too. She’s not as sanguine about this whole divorce thing as she thought she was. Needs her mam
a
Are you free Saturday night?

 

Less than ten minutes later, as I lay in bed reading, Matthew responded.

 

Nothing sexier than a devoted mother. You’re worth the wait, Lyssa. Have fun tomorrow. I’ll see you Saturday.

 

Wow. He managed to make me feel admired, sexy, and appreciated in one short text. I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

 

***

 

I woke up still smiling, after an erotic dream about Matthew on an exotic beach in Portugal. I rolled over and groaned into my pillow, frustrated at the four am alarm going off. Becca, ever the morning person and the devoted shopper, bounced into my room, coffee in her hand.

“Good morning, Mom!” she said quietly. “Here’s your coffee. Now brush your teeth, throw on some clothes and a cap, and let’s hit some sales!”

This was part of our tradition. Sweats, baseball caps, and lots of coffee. I moaned at the smell of the coffee and let the scent pull me out of bed. I was dressed and ready to go less than ten minutes later, just as Molly pulled up out front.

“I’m so
tired
,” Molly moaned.

“Too bad,” I said as I hopped into the passenger seat. “I drove last year. Your turn. Here’s your coffee.” I handed her the amazing dark roast Becca had, thankfully, remembered to set up last night before bed.

BOOK: Hard Choices
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