Spinster? (18 page)

"She was off her medication the first trimester, trying to maintain stability through her yoga and therapy, but halfway through her sixth month it got bad, yet she still refused to take medication." He paused, taking a long pull on his bottle of beer. "One night, it was late, and I heard Ella sobbing. I jumped out of bed and ran to find her standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She was shaking and screaming at her mom, begging her to stop. When I walked past her, I saw what had made her so upset. It was Mila, sitting on the tile, furiously scrubbing her arms. She was using on of those wire scrubbers, her hands were covered in blood, ribbons of skin hanging. She kept mumbling, but I couldn't understand what she was saying. All I knew was that she was hurting herself, feet away from our daughter, whom she'd gotten out of bed I found out later. I knew she'd been struggling, but it was the first time I feared for Ella's safety, not to mention Mila's and our baby she was carrying...I had no choice but to put her in the hospital." His head hung in defeat.

"You did everything you could, Wes."

He smiled, looking grateful for what she'd said. "I could have done more."

"I wasn't there, but it sounds like you have nothing to feel guilty about." He squeezed her hand, not looking convinced. She meant every word, but knew from her own experience, that guilt often had no rationale and was one of the hardest things to let go of.

"She spent the rest of her pregnancy under psychiatric evaluation and on low doses of antipsychotics. Kate was born early, but healthy. We thought it best Mila got back on her full doses of medication right away, no debates over breastfeeding. She was released and just like that we were a family of four. Then one day, seven months later, I found a note. She'd decided she couldn't handle being a mom anymore, figured we were better off without her, that she ruined everything she touched. She said she hoped we could forgive her one day." His face was more thoughtful than angry, having had years to come to terms with his situation.

"She left? How could she leave her kids?" Even Tess with her maternal-light instincts couldn't fathom leaving kids behind, but how could she judge? She had no idea what it was like for Mila.
 

"I don't blame her, Tess. She's a good person, and she didn't choose to be sick. She tried, I know she did. I think she did the best she could for as long as she could...Part of me also thinks she didn't like taking the medication, felt hampered by it. She once told me it was like having a tight band around your head. Walking around in a body that didn't belong to her. Off the medication, she felt free." He sighed and stood up, stretching his arms over his head. "Well, there you have it. The whole sad story of how t
he
Wesley Caraway became a single father." He tried joke. "Can I confess something?"

"Of course."

"Part of me was relieved when she left. Does that make me a horrible person?"

She was quick to answer, "Not at all. I can imagine how hard it must have been for you both."

He looked so distraught, but what else could she say? How could she make it better? Sorry for you misfortune? Maybe I can babysit sometime?
 

"I think we should have sex." Or that. "I mean, at some point...if you want...or not. Ugh! I'm sorry, I didn't know what to say, so I said the first thing that popped into my mind."

Wesley looked amused. "And that was the last thing I thought would come out of your mouth after the story I unloaded. I thought for sure it was going to be thanks, but no thanks."

"Can we forget I said it, please?" Tess asked, looking everywhere but Wesley's face.

He put his hands on her cheeks, so she was forced to look into his blue eyes, which were coming off icy in the porch light. "Not a chance, Warner. Not a chance."

He'd left hours before, yet Tess laid in bed, alone, tossing and turning. Analyzing the details of the night. Wes had left a few hours before, with a soft kiss to her lips and a promise to see her soon. She was still kicking herself for her mouth diacha. Who blurts stuff out like that? She did, apparently. When it came down to it, it felt inappropriate to have sex after his confession. Even as he stiffened against her thigh, palming her nipple over the lace of her bra, she knew it should stop. It was the right thing to do. Damn it.

If and when they decided to take the final leap into physical intimacy, she needed to have thought everything through.
 
Did she want to get tangled up in his past? With his kids? They'd experienced enough abandonment. Tess had a tendency to cut and run when it came to men. Did she like him enough to take a chance? If it was just him, the answer would be an emphatic yes. But, there was more to consider than just her attraction to him. Enjoying his company. Making each other laugh. Orgasms without even taking her pants off...not helping.
 

Well, it helped a little.

"Wow. That's a hell of a story," Willa said as they sat in the coffee shop in their office building. Tess had to tell someone, and Willa was trustworthy and level-headed. She needed a sounding board, big time. "And for once I can see why you're hesitating."

"So, do you think I'm mature enough for this?" Tess was half kidding. She'd long peeled the paper from her lemon poppyseed muffin, but had yet to take a bite.

Willa was thinking way too long on her response. "Jeeze, am I that bad?" Tess asked.

"No. Well...kind of...when it comes to guys, at least. But hey, there's no time like the present to do things differently. Only if you really like him, and I know you do, or we wouldn't be here debating whether or not you're mature enough."

"You know me too well. Yes, I like him. He's nice and funny..."

"And hotter than my dashboard in August."

Tess laughed. "Ha! I'm stealing that for future publications."
 

Willa nodded. "It's yours." She took a drink from her double shot espresso, two sugars. "You remember when you thought you had to write a book? You spent weeks in front of your computer and all you had to show for it was one chapter."

"An epic chapter... 'Not a woman for the ages, but for infinity itself'...or something like that. Yes, I remember, but what does this have to do with Wes and my current emotional conundrum?"

"I'll tell you what it has to do with this, you...thinking life is one way and it being another. You, thinking you have to do things a certain way, and it being out of your hands."

"I still don't get it."

"You and the book you just knew you had to write. You had nothing to say, but thought it was the logical next step, anyway. Don't get me wrong, you're an amazing writer and I think you should write a book one day...except make it the one about the girl and guy who meet on the subway, not that existential tripe you were trying to whittle into being."

"Thanks a lot!"

"You're welcome. My point...my point? Oh, yeah, my point is, you have this idea of how your life is supposed to go. An agenda. The book was on your agenda and nothing else could come in front of it. If Wes fits nicely into your agenda then you're all for it. If not, you shy away."

"Willa, that makes no freaking sense. Wes is nothing like my book. The book fit into my life. Wes, just doesn...oh, now I see."

Willa nodded, like she was Yoda.
 
"Still think you were reaching, Wills."

"Maybe, but you get my point. You can be very single-minded at times."

"I can't help it, I'm a Taurus...I know I can be stubborn, normally I'd just cut and run. But look, here I am discussing it with you. Asking for outside advice...Don't I get credit for that?"

"Yes. My little girl is all grown up." Her voice went high and squeaky. Tess threw a small piece of muffin, hitting Willa's glasses.

"Hey! These are Gucci, biatch!" They giggled loud enough to draw stares. "Look, you like him. He likes you. He has a large schlong. Seems like a no brainer to me."

"Allegedly large. I need to get my hands on it to make my final assessment."

"See, you want to put your hands on his schlong...there's your answer!"

"Whether or not I'm horny is not a good gauge for relationship compatibility."

"But it helps."

Tess smiled. "Yeah, it helps."
 

"The wife's out of the picture? They're officially divorced?"

"Yup. Sent the papers to her parents' house shortly after she left...and last he heard, she was somewhere in Utah making pottery and wind chimes, or something of the sort."

"Those poor little girls...but maybe it's for the best."

"Who knows...Her parents are very involved in their lives, which makes up for it in a small way. Wes said the girls know that their mom loves them, but she's sick and needs to stay someplace else to get better."

"Get better? But if she's off her medication, isn't that giving them false hope?"

"Well, maybe it's a gentle way to explain it to them for now. When they get older and can really grasp the situation I'm sure it will be different. But, I'm just guessing."

"Have you met them?"

"Of course not. I'm sure he doesn't introduce them to anyone he dates unless it's very serious."

"Has he introduced anyone since his wife left?"

"Not a clue."

"Well, it doesn't matter. Wes seems like the kind of dad who puts his kids' well-being before his own, as does any good parent. And he seems like a good dad. That says something about the kind of man he is."

Tess looked out the window and sighed. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

His soft chuckle vibrated the phone next to her ear. "I said, do you like to go camping? You know, tents, campfire, starry skies."

"Oh, that's what I thought you said. I just thought you must have been talking to someone else. I don't do bugs, or the wilderness, or peeing behind bushes all that well...not counting the one time Rebel talked me into that music festival in Austin a few years ago. In my defense, the lines to the portas were a hundred people deep and I wasn't about to chance a UTI for propriety's sake."

He laughed. "Okay, no camping."
 

"Yeah, sorry. I'm more a five star hotel kinda girl, but that's the only thing snobby about me...well, maybe my shoe collection...but that's it, I swear. I love dive bars and food trucks as much as the next gal."

"Can I say I love how you say whatever's on your mind. It always seems like women feel they need to act a certain way around me."

"Slutty?"

He laughed again. "No, I have no problem with slutty... it's just refreshing is all, and rare, especially in our circles," Wes said.

"Ooooh, our circles, you say," Tess mocked, in a fancy voice. But despite her teasing him, she knew exactly what he meant. It was all about appearances. Growing up a Warner gave Tess and her sister a crash course in playing the part. There was plenty of that depending on the event. Pinkies up, and all that nonsense.
 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to sound pretentious."

"No, I was kidding. I know what you mean. Please, have you met my mom? And don't get me started on Crest View! They handed out the elitist prick and stuffy trophy wife starter kits in home ec."

"How did you manage to get out unscathed?"

"I was on the cusp, trust me. It helped that I was slightly awkward and insecure. A lot to do with not wanting to be like my mom. Getting Rebel as my roommate my freshman year and our proclivity towards cannabis usage had an impact as well."

"You're crazy," he said with a laugh.

"How about you? You seem very down to Earth for a guy who has it all."

"First, I've had troubles as much as anyone else, as you now know, but my parents kept me grounded. I just never felt better than anyone else."

"You should have, you were unbelievably hot," she teased.

"Were?"

"Were and are." She sighed and lifted her phone higher to her ear. "In all honesty, there's always a black sheep in the family. It's not like I had tattoos and a tongue piercing, or anything. I rebelled in subtle ways. Sarcasm, eye rolling, passive aggressive comments, you know like a female. My sister, now, she was the perfect clone of my mother. I guess I felt like since she had that role, I was free to be who I wanted. The rub was, I didn't know who that was until about five years ago. I feel like the older I get the more comfortable I get in my own skin. Cliché, yet undeniably true...I spent most of my twenties in various incarnations of other people."

"I know exactly what you mean. Look at me. Law school, father's firm. Talk about doing what was expected. I think if it weren't for everything I—we all—went through with Mila, I might be one of those elitist pricks. She changed me when I was on the cusp, too."

"You were always so nice in school. Everyone liked you. I once saw you help Brecken Wheeler carry his books to class when every one else was teasing him."

"He had cerebral palsy...why wouldn't I help him?"

"See, you were never one of them, Wesley. You were different." She bit her lip. She felt self conscious in that moment. Did she just reveal how infatuated she'd been? And why, for the love of god, did her filter always take a sabbatical when she talked to him?

"You really think?" His voice was quiet, vulnerable. She pictured him lying on his covers wearing silk pajama pants, no boxer briefs. Yeah. Staring at the ceiling with a bent arm beneath his head. She wanted to hug him—for the man he was, for all the hardships he'd endured despite his privileged upbringing. Because he was a good man. Was he her man? That thought made her pulse quicken.

"I know. I feel lucky to know the Wesley of then and now. I've crushed on both." Might as well lay it all out there. Filter, who?

She could hear him breathe and it was like a caress on her skin. "Is that so?" The timbre of his voice made her shiver.

"Yes. And I would like it very much if the now Wes would be my date for an engagement party this weekend." Jen and K-Thor, after a three month romance, were tying the knot.

"I'd be honored...does this mean we're dating, Ms. Warner?"

Without thinking, without pausing, she said, "Yes, I guess it does."