Falling for Him (Stories of Serendipity) (7 page)

Bryan continued staring, as if he'd never seen her before. Then he just shook his head and looked down at the bed.

Amy went about her bedtime routine, getting into her nightgown, brushing her teeth, all the time aware of Bryan in the room, occasionally glancing her way.  She thought maybe he'd been visiting lawyers of his own.  Maybe he would broach the subject first, take the ball out of her court.  That would be a relief of sorts.  One less thing to worry about, anyway.

"Amy…I-I'm sorry about last night…"

She looked up at him, and her heart jumped into her throat.  Standing in front of her was the Bryan she'd fallen in love with.  He looked like the young, unsure teenager that she remembered, clumsily asking her out, fumbling for the words to say what he meant.

They had known each other forever, since kindergarten, and as they’d gotten older, Amy had developed a crush on the developing youth.  She would never forget that day, when she’d come out of the locker room after cheer practice to see him standing there, his practice gear in a bag at his feet, as he leaned on the wall.  He was flushed from football practice and wet from his shower, his hair standing in all directions.  As she walked out of the locker room, he’d called to her, “Amy?”

When she turned to him, he looked sheepish, looking at her through lowered lids, as if direct eye contact would harm him somehow.  He’d stuffed his hands in his pockets, and Amy felt her own face flush at the attention.

“Yeah?”

“Um…I saw y’all’s practice today.  Y’all looked real good.”  He ran his fingers through his curly mop, and she saw heat rise on his neck, his fair skin a sharp contrast to the red blotches.

“Thanks?”  She remembered wondering why he’d felt the need to tell her that, until his next words.

“Are you busy after the game Friday?”

That had begun their romance, and until a few years ago, she’d never regretted marrying her high schools sweet heart.  She’d later teased him about his atrocious pick-up line, back when they’d still joked around about things.

Now as she watched him fumble in the same manner, raking his hands through his hair, heat rising on his neck, she wondered why it was so hard for him to apologize for imagining another woman while having sex with her.  He may try to say the right words, but unfortunately, all the other words were what she remembered.

"Yeah?  Are you really sorry?  Sorry you fucked me, pretending I was someone else?  Sorry you used me?  Or are you sorry that you fucked me in the first place?"  Amy was mad.  She was livid and there wasn't a whole lot that Bryan could say that could change that.

His eyes flashed dangerously, and his voice rose.  "You can't say the same thing, Amy.  You've never come on to me like that before.  Were you wishing I was someone else?  Didn't you enjoy it?  It sure seemed like you did."

She crumpled inside.  "You're not denying it.  You bastard."  She turned and stomped out of the room, wishing she had a place to go, some room in the house that was the equivalent of the man-cave, where she could hide from everybody.  She ended up in the kitchen.

Chapter
6:

Cool_Hand_Luke:  Did you have a nice Thanksgiving yesterday?

Mommee_dearest:  Yes, my sister and her boyfriend came over for dinner, and all the food turned out delicious, so everybody was happy.  I had a nice visit with my sister while the men watched the game.

Actually Amy and Kathy had a great visit.  She'd told Kathy about Cool_Hand_Luke, and Kathy's eyes had gotten wide with disbelief.

"Shut.  Up.  You're cheating on Bryan?"  Her whisper was barely that.

"Well, he's cheating on me."

"How do you know?"

"I just do.  Okay?  Besides we haven't had much in the way of intimacy in a while."  She chewed a cuticle.  "Years actually."

"No sex?"

Amy snorted.  "We've had sex.  If you can call rough fucking without kisses or eye-contact sex.  Intimacy, Kathy.  We don't have intimacy, and I've tried everything I know to get it, but he's not willing.  He won't talk, he just comes home from work, eats, goes to his man-cave or falls asleep on the recliner.  That's it."

"Wow."

"This is what my life has become, Kathy.  And I'm not happy living it.  I've gotten a lawyer, and I'm presenting papers to Bryan after the holidays.  I just can't do this anymore."

"You guys used to be so happy.  I never realized it had gotten this bad, honey."  She pulled Amy into her arms, and squeezed tightly.  Amy relished her sister's comfort and wished she called her more often.  Maybe if she talked to Kathy more about stuff she wouldn't feel so overwhelmed all the time.

"So, are you going to pursue things with this online guy?  After the divorce?"

"I don't know.  I really like him, but I don't know what his situation is with his wife, and I don't want to push him into something he'll regret later.  I figure I'll just take that one step at a time, you know?  What do you think I should do?"

"I don't know what you should do, but I just want you to be happy."

"Me too…"

The ping from her computer screen brought her back to the present and her online flame.

Cool_Hand_Luke:  So I've been thinking…

Mommee_dearest:  Oh yeah?  You know that'll get you into tr
ouble, every time.

Cool_Hand_Luke:  LOL.  Yeah, I know.  But I've been feeling bad.  I can't help but think that I'm part of the reason your marriage isn’t working out, and maybe you should try t
o fix things with your husband.

Mommee_dearest:  You don't understand.  I've already tried everything I know to try.  He's seeing someone else, and I'm tired of playing second-fiddle to whoever he's doing.  We don't have a marriage anymore to save.

There were a few moments before Cool_Hand_Luke responded.  Amy thought about what she'd written.  It was true.  But was Cool_Hand_Luke breaking up with her?  She laughed ruefully.  Was what they had a relationship?  Online flirting, mixed in with some sexy scenes they'd written? Sure, she felt a connection to him and wanted to meet him.  She'd admit that to herself now, she did want to meet him.  She wanted to know what he looked like.  She wanted to see his eyes, if they looked at her with longing.  But if he was breaking up with her, she would still divorce Bryan.  She’d realized that they didn’t have a marriage anymore, and if Cool_Hand_Luke didn’t want her, at least he’d shown her that somebody else could.  She could always try to just be alone, too.  There was absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Cool_Hand_Luke:  So,
you're not confused anymore?

Mommee_dearest:  Nope.  I've got it all figured out.  I met with a lawyer, and he will have the paper work ready after New Year's.  I'll talk to Bryan then.  I don't think he
'll actually argue the point. 

Cool_Hand_Luke:  A
re you sure, then?

Mommee_dearest:  Yes, I'm sure.  Why do you suddenly want me to reconcile with my husband? 
Is something going on with you?

Cool_Hand_Luke:  No, I just was wondering where you were with all that.  I'm still really into you.  Speaking of into
you…What’s your favorite song?

Mommee_dearest:  Hmmm…That’s tough.  I’m not sure I could pick just one, but I’m really enjoying Kenny Chesney’s “Pirate Flag” right now.  It f
eeds my insane need for escape.

Cool_Hand_Luke:  Speaking of escape, do you remember “Escape” by Rupert H
olmes?  “The Pina Colada Song?”

Mommee_dearest:  Who doesn’t?

Cool_Hand_Luke:  I’ve been listening to that song a lot at work.  You know what it’s about?

Mommee_dearest:  Personal Ads?

Cool_Hand_Luke:  A married couple answers each other’s ads, looking for a fling, but don’t realize they’re meeting each other.  It’s got me thinking.

Mommee_dearest:  I’ve told
you about that thinking thing.

Cool_Hand
_Luke:  What if you’re my wife?

Mo
mmee_dearest:  So you’re Bryan?

Cool_Hand_Luke:  I could be, we have no way of knowing.  You’ve been pretty insistent that we do
n’t share personal information.

Mommee_dearest:  The
re’s no way.  You aren’t Bryan.

Cool_H
and_Luke:  Why do you say that?

Mommee_dearest:  It’s true that some of the things you say remind me of the way he used to be, but he’s turned into a tired, resentful man, full of spite for his family.  We keep him from enjoying his life, and he takes every opportunity to let me know that it’s my job to enjoy the kids while he works all week providing
for us all.  You don’t do that.

Cool_Hand_L
uke: Wow.  That’s pretty harsh.

Mommee_dearest:  I can’t take it anymore.  I want to be with somebody like you.  I want somebody who appreciates me for what I do around the house, someone who makes me feel like a real person, instea
d of somebody to iron shirts. 

Cool_Hand_Luke:  Nobody's ever done for me what you do for me.  You make me feel like a man.  I
love it.  Does that make sense?

Mommee_dearest:  Yes, it does.

The Saturday after Thanksgiving, Amy was washing up the breakfast dishes when Bryan came up beside her.  He’d been more quiet than usual this morning, actually since the night he’d apologized to her and she’d actually confronted him about his affair that he hadn’t denied.  She had to admit, she hadn’t been very talkative either.  They’d both put on a front for the family at Thanksgiving dinner, but she knew it was a farce.

Leaning his hip on the counter next to the sink, Amy was reminded again of his workouts.  His now lean body was pretty close to spectacular.  The spare tire around his middle was gone, revealing muscles she didn’t realize she’d ever see again.  She watched his biceps flex under his undershirt as he crossed his arms and looked at her.

“Is today Christmas tree day?”  Amy always decorated the Christmas tree on the Saturday after Thanksgiving.  She nodded, scrubbing stuck-on eggs off a skillet.

“Can we take the kids to the Christmas tree farm and get a live one?  Would that be fun?”  He seemed unsure of himself, as if she were going to snap his head off for the suggestion.

As if she cared that much.

She shrugged.  “If you want to.”  She wondered if his girlfriend had plans today, that’s why he wanted to spend time with the family.  They’d never seemed to interest him before.  In fact, it had been over a decade since he’d expressed any interest in Christmas decorations.  He’d always let her do it.

He didn’t seem overjoyed at her reaction, and Amy wondered what he’d been expecting.

After loading up the kids, who were ecstatic at the outing, they drove to a neighboring town where a small Christmas tree farm opened up for the holidays.  It prided itself on its country Christmas activities, so they drank hot chocolate, ate sweet cornbread drizzled with honey, and watched Ashley shamelessly flirt with the boys who worked there.

Amy and Bryan sat around a campfire for warmth, while Brad regressed five years and tried to climb a tree and they waited for the next trailer to take them out to pick up a tree.  Amy was next to him, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch her husband.  They sat there quietly, each lost in their own thoughts.  It would have been romantic, except Amy’s mind was consumed with images of bringing the children here for years, alone.  Bryan had always found something else to do on Christmas tree day.

“She’s growing up so fast,” Bryan mused as he watched Ashley.  Amy’s eyes followed to see her standing behind a boy about her age, while he manhandled a large tree into a machine that shook off debris and dead needles, before wrapping it in some sort of netting for safe travel.

She bit back the retort that had formed in her mind, something about him being too busy, lyrics to a Harry Chapin song, anything to show him the depth of her resentment.  After eighteen years, he just now wants to have quality family time and have conversations about it?  She rolled her eyes and bit her tongue instead.

A familiar heavy sigh followed his proclamation, and Amy stood.  “The next trailer’s here.  We’d better get on it, or else we’ll be here all day.”

Bryan opened his mouth to say something, then closed it.  She called to the kids, who came running, and he followed her to the trailer. 

A small tractor pulled a flatbed trailer with a few hay bales arranged on it for seating.  People climbed aboard and as one of the boys drove the tractor around the farm, people pointed to their perfect tree, and two other boys hopped off and cut it down, tossing it onto the trailer.  Brad and Ashley argued over which tree to pick out, Bryan chuckling at them the entire time.  Amy just got mad.

He had no right to enjoy this.  This was something that she did with the kids every year.  She took them to the Christmas Tree farm.  She always invited Bryan, and he always declined.  Now that he was here, she should be glad he seemed to enjoy it, but she was just more angry at all the missed opportunities he’d passed up.