Her finger traces the rim of her glass, and her movement slows the longer we stare at each other.
My mouth goes completely dry.
The blood rushes to my ears as her face pales, and her finger stops.
Time stops.
“Mom?”
We both jump off the couch like Jacob caught us with our pants down—shit.
“Yes?” Clara rushes to him.
“You didn’t finish the chapter.”
“What?” she rasps.
My heart thunders in my chest at what I almost confessed to. But what I said might’ve been damning all the same.
“You said you’d read a whole chapter, but you didn’t finish it.”
“Jacob, sweetie, it’s late.” She ushers him back into his room. “I’ll finish tomorrow night, okay? Good night.”
She closes the door behind her and faces me.
“I’m going to head out and let you get some rest.” I stuff my hands in the pockets of my jeans, and when I reach the front door, she stops me.
“Dax?”
She doesn’t say anything else. Indecision crosses her features like it did the night I kissed her in high school.
So many years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday.
She was unsure at first, her eyes wide in shock with a hint of fear. I assumed she was just as afraid of crossing that line as I was. But once my lips touched hers, her body sagged into mine, and she kissed me back.
I often wondered over the years if she ever wrote about it in her diary.
Our kiss was noteworthy.
It was right.
I know it could be good with us for the long haul, but she looks at me with shock and a whole lot of fear now. She’s not ready.
And I refuse to lose her—not after finally getting her back here.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Clara.” With a tight-lipped smile, I leave her standing in her living room.
And I leave more pieces of my heart with her too.
Six
Clara
After I drop Jacob off at school, I stop at Daisey’s flower stand around the corner. Mitch used to bring home sunflowers every few weeks because he knew how much I love them. I smile at them in my passenger seat as I put my car in park in my driveway.
There’s a moving truck next door to our house, and a woman stands out front. She yells orders to the moving crew about not scratching the hardwood floors when placing the furniture inside. “No, no, no. Use both your hands. That’s heavy.” She points to one guy, then shuffles after him when he doesn’t immediately comply.
Her short, strawberry blond hair bounces around her shoulders as she whips her head every which way. The sight alone makes me dizzy.
I get out of my car, ready to greet her, but she runs into the house, her phone to her ear. Pulling my own phone out, I click on the first name in my messages and head inside.
Me: I have a new neighbor.
Dax: Let me guess… balding old guy who believes gold chains are still popular?
I grab a vase for the flowers. They brighten up the kitchen, especially with the sun shining through the blinds.
Me: Not even close.
Dax: What about… desperate housewife with enough rings on her fingers you’d think she was a pawn shop?
I laugh, shaking my head.
Me: I’m going to put you out of your misery. It’s just a woman.
Dax: Boring!
Me: Boring is good sometimes. I think I’ve had enough excitement for a while.
I hit send before I realize what a downer I just was.
We’ve had a good week.
He hasn’t mentioned our conversation about finding the right person since the night of the Harvest Festival last week, and neither have I.
It was strange. He had that look again—the one I can’t decipher. Then he made a simple, albeit moving, statement, but it sounded like a confession.
“It was all in my head,” I tell myself when my phone vibrates again.
Dax: Are you referring to Rory forgetting your name when you ran into him at the grocery store? That excitement?
As I place the vase on the breakfast table by the windows, I’m relieved he didn’t attempt to “fix” me by giving his advice. This is what I need.
To get my mind off the past.
It’s been almost a whole year.
It’s been almost two years since we received Mitch’s diagnosis.
Sighing, I shuffle up to my office. Taking a seat at the desk, I pick up a picture of us at Mitch’s college fraternity’s formal. It’s a little blurry since we were both pretty drunk when we snapped the shot. I only framed it because it reminds me of a simpler time.
College parties.
Sweatpants to class.
Naps whenever we felt like it.
Mitch and I were carefree. We stole kisses in the halls, the courtyard, every chance we got. Every day felt like a whimsical walk through rainbows. Behind closed doors, we were hot.
Sensual.
We were in tune.
After we were married, we got pregnant with Jacob almost immediately, so we had many responsibilities right out of college.
It changed us, in good ways.
“But also bad.” I set the picture down, shaking off the negative thoughts I hardly ever had about our marriage before moving to Sunnyville. Before watching Zach with Willow. At the barbecue, he tended to Willow, anticipated her needs out of love, his gaze filled with so much adoration. My mom and Andrew. My dad with his wife Izzy. They all share that same level of affection. It’s obvious to those around them how much they love each other.
It’s been a while since I’ve had that kind of love. The kind you don’t question. The kind that makes you hopeful.
Mitch and I had it, especially in the beginning. After Jacob, he started working a lot. The fights started slowly after that until we argued so often it started causing a rift between us.
Things were better after I went back to work. I had something else to focus on, something to give me purpose outside the home. I was part of the world again.
But we still had our problems, and even when our fights were over, they weren’t erased.
It’s marriage, though. It’s not a science. Every day in a marriage isn’t always a success, but Mitch and I had many good days. That’s what’s important.
My phone vibrates again with a message from Grayson’s fiancée Sidney, giving me a link to the magazine she runs, Modern Family. We ran into each other at the school drop-off, and I mentioned to her that I’m in need of a part-time job. To my luck, she’s hiring photographers, which is what I’m interested in.
I took a few photography courses in college to complement my public relations major. I worked as a marketing assistant at a few PR firms at various times over the years, but my heart has always been in photography.
After Jacob was born, I picked it up as a hobby and shot his baby pictures. I took some family pictures for people in our neighborhood as well and fell in love with photography all over again.
I thank Sidney for her help, and instead of unpacking the rest of the boxes that line the wall, I spend the next few hours searching the magazine’s website. I click through different issues and read through pieces to try to get a feel for their brand.
With every article, the excitement inside me grows.
Before I realize it, it’s time to pick up Jacob from school. I stretch my arms over my head and get up, shaking the soreness from my back and legs from sitting too long.