Soaring (51 page)

But that was the me he made me.

Now I was just me and he was not going to push me into going back.

“Mickey isn’t a Neanderthal,” I told them firmly. “Mickey is a good man who I’ve come to care about quite a bit. I enjoy spending time with him. He feels the same about me. This is something that we both feel is important and we’re both building on that. So since he’s important to me and
you’re
important to me, I’d like you to meet him.”

“Cool,” Pippa said casually.

I stared at her, shocked at her non-response.

Or, more precisely, her not negative one.

“You should make your pulled barbeque chicken when he comes over. With your homemade coleslaw,” Auden suggested.

I moved my stare to him.

Then I asked, “I…that’s it? Do you have questions? Anything you want to ask me about Mickey?”

“No, why?” Auden asked back.

“It’s about time,” Pip stated before I could answer my son. “You’ve always been pretty and those highlights kick butt. So it’s no surprise you hooked up. And it’s good you have somebody.”

Could it be this easy?

“Pippa, sweets, you should know, it’s that firefighter you saw that day on the street.”

She grinned. “Awesome. He was hot.”

I blinked.

She bent over the computer and commandeered the mouse, saying, “Now, I was looking and I totally dig the whole thing you got going in the other guestroom. I found this bed that was like
yin
to that
yang
. From the beach straight to the forest!” she declared and started clicking.

Oh my God.

My daughter had been looking for furniture for the home she shared with me.

And
oh my God
, my kids didn’t mind that I was dating and wanted them to meet somebody.

I felt something strange and my eyes drifted from my daughter clicking the mouse to my son.

The instant I caught his gaze, he looked away and mumbled, “I approve of everything so don’t bother asking me.”

He then strolled out.

“Look, Mom, here it is! Isn’t this the bomb?” Pippa cried.

I looked at a four-poster bed that looked made of logs.

It was absolutely “the bomb.”

I rolled forward, ordering, “Scooch, kid, let me see.”

Pippa scooched.

Fifteen minutes later, I’d ordered a log bed off the Internet.

Twenty minutes after that, I’d ordered all the linens for that bed.

And an hour after that, my girl sitting on a stool she’d dragged from the kitchen bar (I really needed more furniture in the den) and I were still online furniture shopping.

* * * * *

“Don’t stay up too late, kiddo. I’m off to bed,” I said to Auden who was lounged on the couch in front of the TV, surrounded by schoolbooks, notebooks and his tablet.

It was late. His sister had gone to bed half an hour ago. Auden was still doing homework. The TV was on, but as only kids could do, he was sitting in front of it with it blaring but most of his attention was on his work.

I put my hands to the arms of the chair I was in and started to push up when Auden’s eyes came to me.

“He fucks you over, you get rid of him.”

I froze.

“Auden,” I whispered.

“The minute he fucks you over, Mom, get rid of him,” he ordered, his voice low and there was a tremor of emotion that cut deep.

I rested my behind back to the seat and kept my focus on my son.

“First,” I said quietly, “I’m not fond of your language.”

Auden didn’t reply, he just continued staring at me.

“Second,” I went on, “is there something you want to share with me?”

“Dad screwed you over and it messed you up,” he declared instantly.

God, direct hit.

“I know, kiddo, and I’m sorry I made that so easy for you to see.”

He shook his head forcefully. “No. That’s not what I mean. Dad screwed you over and it messed you up, Mom. You’re good now. You got through it. But you know better than me that guys can be dicks. Don’t let this guy be a dick to you.”

“I learned something from what happened before, sweets,” I assured him. “And whatever’s in my future with a man, or even getting a hangnail, I’m not going to allow that to happen again. And by that I mean I’m not going to fall apart.”

He stopped lounging and leaned toward me. “
No
,” he repeated emphatically. “Just don’t let this guy be a dick to you.”

I stared at my boy and tried to read anything I could that he wasn’t giving to me verbally.

When I couldn’t find it, even though I sensed it was there, I started, “What happened between me and your father—”

Auden interrupted me, “I had no control over that. But I will over this. If I see this guy being a dick to you, then I’m doing something about it.”

“Auden,” I began cautiously, “is there something you aren’t telling me?”

That was when he broke my gaze, still looking toward me but now doing it beyond me. “Just that I’m not letting anyone be a dick to my mom.”

That felt nice. Incredibly nice.

I still sensed that wasn’t it.

“If you have something you need to talk about, I hope you know you can talk to me,” I told him earnestly but solemnly, hoping he didn’t also read my anxiety.

Auden didn’t say anything.

“Mickey’s a really good man, honey,” I shared. “He’s got two kids of his own and he’s a great dad.” I leaned his way and dropped my voice. “He makes me laugh and he takes care of me and he makes me happy. And I hope you know I wouldn’t put you through introducing you to somebody who I didn’t think would be around for a good long while.”

Auden again looked right at me. “I’m glad he makes you laugh and you’re happy. But if he’s a dick to you, Mom, he’s gone.”

I again tried to read my son.

I again sensed something there that I couldn’t read.

And he obviously didn’t want to share it.

So I said, “I think that’s a fair deal.”

Auden nodded and looked back at the TV.

I decided to end it there, got up and went around the back of the couch. When I was in position, I leaned deep and kissed the top of his head.

“Love you, my baby boy, forever and ever,” I whispered.

“Love you too, Mom,” he mumbled in return.

I closed my eyes, throat getting clogged, swallowed to clear it and straightened away.

“Sleep tight,” I said as I moved toward my room, snagging my phone off the kitchen counter on the way there.

“Yeah. You too,” Auden called back.

I got behind closed door and instantly called Mickey.

Within a couple of rings, just like Mickey, he picked up.

I told him the good news, that Auden and Olympia were open to meet him.

I did not tell him my ex referred to him to my children as a Neanderthal. He’d done that to Mickey’s face and Mickey didn’t like it. He didn’t need to get upset about Conrad saying it to my kids.

Then I told him the not-so-good news about the intense conversation I just had with my son.

I ended this with, “What do you think that was about?”

“Haven’t met your boy, babe, don’t know anything about him but what you’ve told me. But if my dad did my mom the way his dad did his, I may have gotten caught up in the hurricane and its aftermath, but when things settled down, I’d be thinkin’. Men look to our fathers to show us the man we should be. He’s at an age where that’s gonna be some intense scrutiny. And I’m thinkin’ he doesn’t like what he’s seein’.”

“I don’t want that for him,” I said uneasily.

“Could just be him mannin’ up,” Mickey added. “He’s of an age to do that too. His mom is dating. She got fucked over. He wants you to know he’s lookin’ out for you. I’d do that for my mom too. Any good son would look after his mother.”

I liked that idea better.

“He said the f-word, Mickey.”

Mickey started chuckling.

I didn’t find it funny.

“
Twice
,” I stated.

“Bet he says it a lot more around his buds.”

This did not make me happy and I looked to the door.

“Babe, advice,” he went on. “Seriously. Listen to this shit. Back off. He’s findin’ the man he’s gonna be. You gotta give him space to let him.”

“He should respect his mother and not curse,” I declared.

“Do you honestly give a shit about cursing?” he asked incredulously.

“You doing it as a grown man, no. Auden doing it at sixteen, yes.”

“You call him on it?”

“Carefully.”

“Then make it be known that in your house and to you and your daughter, he shows you that respect. After that, back off. That is, unless he keeps doin’ it.”

“Right,” I mumbled.

“Brady Bunch action is definitely gonna take time,” he stated, and I knew he meant by this that it would be only him for dinner. We’d do the blending of kids at a later date, which was a relief. “So this dinner has gotta happen next week after the kids go to Rhiannon. Scheduled off at the house on Tuesday. See if they can make it then.”

“I’ll talk to them, Mickey. Do you like coleslaw?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because Auden placed his order for dinner with the man Mom’s dating and it includes coleslaw. I already know you like barbeque chicken, which is the other menu item he selected.”

“Totally a sixteen-year-old boy. His mom tells him she’s got a new man, he’s worried about what he’s gonna eat.”

That made me smile and settled other things inside me.

Mickey kept talking, “But you don’t have a grill.”

“Slow roasted barbeque pulled chicken,” I told him.

“Shit, it’s after ten and now I’m hungry.”

And another smile.

“You goin’ to bed?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Wish that was happening beside me,” he muttered.

And with that,
everything
settled inside me.

“Me too,” I told him quietly.

“Monday,” he said.

That seemed a long way away.

“Monday,” I agreed.

“Right, Amy. Lettin’ you go. Sleep good, baby.”

“You too, Mickey. ’Night.”

“’Night.”

We rang off and I got ready for bed.

Once in it, I tossed and turned and didn’t sleep.

I wanted to believe that the fierceness coming from my son was a protective instinct for me. I would even like to know if Mickey was right about Auden looking at his father and wondering if he’d become that man.

But I didn’t think it was either.

I thought it was something else.

Something that drove both my kids from their father to me.

Something I was going to have to find a way to figure out.

For them.

Not me.

* * * * *

“I’m not liking this,” I said two days later, standing in Jake’s office at the gym, watching through the window, Jake and Mickey in the ring sparring.

“I know,” Josie, standing next to me replied. “Actually, I
don’t
know. Jake never loses. To anyone. Even Mickey, who’s quite formidable, but still, he’s only second best in the league. Jake was once a professional boxer so you shouldn’t feel any less of Mickey. Jake fought pay-per-view. He was quite something. Thus, I can’t say I know how it feels that Mickey’s losing.”

I couldn’t even think of Mickey losing. And I didn’t suspect anyone was losing since they were only sparring with a throng of young men from age eleven to eighteen standing around watching.

The junior boxing league signups and gear handouts. The reason I was there. So I could watch the boys get fitted for the gear that I’d made it so they could have for their season.

No, I was thinking that I hated the idea that Mickey boxed. I could barely watch my son roll around on a mat struggling to pin his opponent.

I hated watching Jake punch Mickey even if Mickey was punching back.

I’d hate it more if they were doing it to win.

But what I hated most of all was the heretofore unknown knowledge that Mickey was a member of the adult league which, like the junior league, was again starting its season.

Now, how
exactly
was Mickey going to do all he did
and
train to box
and
actually
box
?

“He has two jobs, two kids, a girlfriend and he’s starting his own company,” I stated. “How on earth is he going to find time to train so he doesn’t get his ass kicked?”

“Jake owns two businesses, has three children and a wife. He does it.”

I looked to Josie. “One of his businesses is a boxing gym.”

She looked to me. “Yes, but someone must
run
it. He can’t train all the time.”

Even though I didn’t think Jake had it as bad as Mickey, I asked, “Okay, so how does he juggle all that?”

“He found himself a wife.”

A thrill shot through me.

Interrupting this thrill, a cheer came from the gym and Josie and I looked that way.

Jake was spitting out his mouth guard and Mickey was leaning on the thing at the corner of the ring, his guard already out, and he was using his teeth to pull open the Velcro grips on his gloves while Jake started addressing the boys.

I studied Mickey thinking it could not be denied, in his loose track pants with his skintight, short-sleeved shirt, leaning casually against a corner thing of a boxing ring, that he looked exceptionally hot, even with his headgear on.

I still hoped he didn’t want me to go watch him beat someone up while taking a beating.

“I hope he doesn’t ask me to his fights,” I muttered this thought aloud.

“Oh yes you do.”

Josie’s strange tone of voice made me look at her. “Why?”

She visibly tore her eyes from her husband and looked at me. “Fight night.”

I felt my brows draw together. “I’m sorry?”

“Fight night starts with the fight but it ends in far more pleasant activities,” she explained.

The look on her face, it was dawning on me.

But she kept going.

“Win or lose, though as you know I don’t know about losing, but Alyssa does, and I’m very aware that even when Junior loses, Alyssa’s favorite night of
any
night is
fight night
.”

“So they…” I trailed off.

“Yes,” she stated firmly.