Chapter 193
Claire welcomed the return to normalcy
in her life. As the days passed, she
settled back into her old routine and the tasks of motherhood. She enjoyed staying busy with the twins; taking
care of two babies by herself gave her plenty to do and helped take her mind
off of everything that caused her stress:
her dad’s health, the divorce, money, and, of course, Nick, whom she
hadn’t spoken to since Paris.
Once her father came home from the
hospital, she and her mother found themselves in dual caretaker roles. Her mom took care of her dad, while Claire
handled everything to do with Caitlin and Delaine. They took turns running errands and cooking
dinner, and although having a recovering heart patient and two four-month-old babies
in a condo together was difficult, they both agreed that they were better off
together than apart.
“I’m so glad we’re still living here,”
her mother would say. “I can’t imagine
what I’d do if it was just me with your dad back in Gainesville. I’m so afraid of leaving him alone, I’d never
want to leave the house!”
And, despite the differences they’d
had over the years, Claire found that she agreed. She couldn’t imagine having to take Cait and
Lainey everywhere she went and enjoyed the freedom of being able to leave them
with her mother while she ran to the grocery store or the pharmacy.
Yet the living situation couldn’t
last. By the end of summer, her father
had recovered, the twins were sleeping through the night, sitting up on their
own, and bottle-feeding with no trouble, and Claire was in a financial
crisis. She’d been paying bills,
insurance payments, legal fees, and supporting two babies without an income
since February, and the money was running out.
Her parents had helped her out, but they had their own medical bills,
and she wasn’t about to let them use her father’s retirement funds to dig her
out of the hole she was in.
Her only saving grace was that the
divorce had been finalized, which meant the lawyer fees would soon be a thing
of the past, and she would start receiving child support from Jamie. Still, it would not be enough. She needed to go back to work.
On the last day of August, she found
herself in Dr. Barry Somers’ dental office, interviewing to get her old
hygienist job back. The “interview” was
a joke; Dr. Somers, an old friend of her father’s, assured her the position was
hers and that they would be happy to have her back. Laureen was thrilled, and even Tim stopped
her on her way out to say, “Glad to see you gettin’ back in the saddle,
C.” The old, familiar cheesy smile and
crooked glasses made her grin, and she told herself it would be fun to be
working at the office again, ripping on Tim with Laureen on their lunch breaks
and betting on which hygienist would get bitten the most times in a month.
But actually going back was harder
than just thinking of going back. After
months of spending most of her time with her daughters, being apart from them
for a whole day was a difficult adjustment to make. And coming home to take care of them after a
day of cleaning teeth was almost harder.
She’d forgotten the physical rigors of her job – how her back would hurt
after a long day of leaning over patients, and how her wrists would ache from
the same probing and scraping and flossing motions over and over, and how tired
her feet would get from standing all day.
Maybe it was because she had been out of work for a year, or maybe it
was because her body was not twenty-one anymore, but the aches, pains, and
overall fatigue were worse than she remembered.
When she got home in the afternoon, all she wanted to do was put her
feet up and relax, but instead, she had two growing babies to diaper and feed
and play with. Relaxation was not an
option.
It only got harder when her parents
moved back to their home in Gainesville in October. Claire had insisted that she needed to get
used to the lifestyle of a single mother and not rely on them so much, but when
she found herself completely on her own, a working mom of seven-month-old
twins, she felt completely overwhelmed.
Thank God for Amber. Her sister-in-law, who wanted to wait until
Kamden was in kindergarten to go back to her teaching job, had offered to take
the twins each day. “I don’t mind,”
she’d said cheerfully. “Sometimes it
gets boring with just me and a three-year-old, and Kam needs to learn how to
interact with younger kids. Kyle and I
would like to give him a little sister or brother eventually.”
Claire was eternally grateful for the
option of childcare with someone she trusted.
She paid Amber for her time and expenses, but doubted she was paying as
much as a daycare would charge for two babies.
Other than the fact that it meant driving to St. Petersburg and back
twice a day, it was a nice arrangement.
As the end of October loomed and the
Florida heat began to wane, Claire and her girls settled into a routine that
was workable, if not exactly comfortable.
But all it took were the two men who
had not been a part of her life for the last few months to re-enter it and turn
her routine on its head.
***
Nick had spent the summer in Los
Angeles. After finishing the last of his
overseas tour dates in Japan, he had flown into LA and never left. There was nothing for him in Tampa right now
but awkwardness, he’d decided. LA was
where the action was. Most of his
friends were there, and the guys all had houses in the area. There’d been no reason for him to go back to
Florida.
After about a month in California, he
had started to get antsy. It always
happened to him on his breaks, once he’d had a chance to relax and recover from
touring. After a few weeks, he was ready
to go again, to make music and be onstage.
Counting on AJ, at least, to share in his suffering, he had reconnected
with the guys, and they had tentatively begun working on their next album.
It was slow going and awkward, at
first, without Kevin in their midst.
Though they saw their oldest member from time to time, he was never with
them in the recording studio or the meetings with various producers and
songwriters. It was a hard fact to get
used to; weeks passed before Nick stopped making dinner reservations for five
or wondering why Kevin was late when he didn’t show up.
But eventually, the newness and the
awkwardness of their situation faded, and work on the new album
progressed. It had the potential to be a
great record, Nick thought. They were
taking advantage of the change in their line-up by experimenting with new
sounds, new writers and producers, and new types of music. The songs they had recorded were more upbeat
than the tracks on the last album. Fewer
ballads, more dance tracks. Nick was
pleased with the change. Quite frankly,
he was sick of singing sappy songs about love.
Summer passed without any love for
Nick. He sometimes went out and met cute
girls at clubs, but they didn’t do much for him, and he never did anything with
them. That last fling with the groupie
in France had left a bad taste in his mouth – he would never forget the look of
hurt and disappointment on Claire’s face.
It was because of her that he’d barely touched another woman since.
But why? he sometimes
asked himself. What was he waiting
for? Did he honestly expect Claire to
show up on his front porch like she had at the hotel in Paris?
He didn’t really, and yet, he thought
of her often. What was she doing? What was she thinking? Had her feelings changed?
He’d wanted to call her ever since
he’d been back, but he had always fought against the temptation. It would be only too easy to call her and beg
for her to give him another chance.
Really, she was the one who should be asking for a second chance. She was the one who had run away from him and
disappeared, barely giving him a chance to speak. She could call first.
But for weeks, he heard nothing from
her. And then, just when he was starting
to wonder if he should call just to make sure she was okay, an email.
Hey Nick,
I just wanted to say hi. I
hope the rest of the tour went well for you.
I’m sorry for not getting in touch earlier. Things have been crazy lately. My dad had to have bypass surgery, but he’s
recovering. The twins are doing great –
getting bigger every day!
I’m not sure where you are right now, but I hope you’re doing
well.
XOXOXO
Claire
The message was short and sweet, but
left him perplexed. It hurt a little to
find out that she’d been going through things – a health scare with her dad
among them – and not called him for moral support. But after the way they’d left things in
Paris, he supposed he couldn’t blame her.
It was awkward for both of them.
And yet, when were they ever going to
talk about it? She’d danced right around
the issue in that email and every message after it, as if she were trying to
pretend the whole thing had never happened.
Nick played along, but it was hard not to just come out and ask
her. What
were you doing there, Claire? What did
you come to say to me?
He had his suspicions of course, but
it was killing him not to know, for certain, if he’d been right. The answers she refused to give him had the
potential to change everything and make their complicated relationship simple
again. But instead, Claire continued to
be an enigma.
As summer turned to fall, the déjà vu
of their post break-up awkwardness set in.
It had been nearly four years since Claire had broken off their
engagement, but to Nick, it felt as if she’d left him all over again. They were back at square one, trying to
maintain a casual friendship, yet blocked by the elephant in the room. For the first time in the years he’d known
her, Claire didn’t seem to want to acknowledge it. She was always the blunt one, the one who
brought up the hard topics without any trouble, yet for once, she was walking
on eggshells around him.
It was early October when he finally
flew home to Tampa for the first time since the tour. After weeks in the studio, the guys were
taking a break, doing their own things.
Brian, Leighanne, and Baylee were in Atlanta, Howie in Orlando, while AJ
stayed with Mary in Malibu. They didn’t
speak to each other for two weeks, until Howie called about a Halloween party
he was throwing in Orlando.
“Sure I’ll come,” said Nick, who loved
anything to do with Halloween. “How
big’s this thing gonna be?” D may not
have looked the part, but he could throw a good party.
“Mm, maybe one tier below the Playboy
Mansion party,” Howie
“Ha ha, okay… I’m holdin’ you to that,
man.” Nick had been to Hugh Hefner’s
annual Halloween bash once in recent years.
Claire had been with him, he remembered, with a sudden jolt. He hadn’t thought of that night in a long
time.
The memory would not leave him, so
when he got off the phone with Howie, he went into his office and started
digging through drawers until he found a dusty CD among a collection he’d
burned. Sticking it into his computer’s
drive, he pulled up a folder of digital pictures and started scrolling through
them. A grinning redhead appeared in
many of them, for they were all from the year he and Claire had spent
together. There were photos from their
trip to Hawaii, in Los Angeles, out on Nick’s boat, acting goofy in various
places, and just hanging out around Tampa.
Among them were a set of pictures from that Halloween, with him smirking
in his pirate costume and her foaming out of her colonial gown.
He smiled a sad smile, filled with
nostalgia. That had been a good
night. A good year. He missed having fun with her like they had
that year.
Scrolling through the pictures, he
wondered if there was a way to recreate the magic.
***
“Come on, Lainey… open up.” Claire held the baby spoon full of
applesauce to her daughter’s mouth, but Delaine kept her lips firmly shut,
screwed up her face, and turned her head, letting out a muffled whine. Sighing in frustration, Claire put the spoon
down and picked up Caitlin’s spoon again.
“Ready, Cait?” She spooned up some more applesauce with
Caitlin’s spoon, and, making airplane noises, zoomed the spoon straight into
Cait’s open mouth. Caitlin swallowed,
smiled, and bounced in her high chair.
Delaine continued to fuss.
Deciding to not force the issue with
her youngest for right now, Claire focused on feeding Caitlin the rest of her
applesauce. As she looked from twin to
twin in between bites, she marveled over how different her two babies were.
Sometimes it alarmed her, how Delaine
seemed behind Caitlin in every aspect of their development. At eight months old, they were expected to be
reaching the milestones of a six-month-old, being that they’d been born two
months premature. But while Caitlin was
beginning to crawl and babble in a way that sounded like real speech, Delaine
was usually stationary and silent. Oh,
she played, and she made noises, but not like Caitlin did. And altogether, she was far less agreeable
than her older twin. Sometimes Claire
wondered if she was frustrated.
The pediatrician assured her that it
was normal, that even twins did not develop at the same rate, especially
fraternal twins. Delaine was within the
normal ranges for her adjusted age, and in a few years, no one would be able to
guess she had been a preemie.
Claire was not convinced, but she
tried not to dwell on it. Still, it was
frustrating sometimes. Delaine weighed
less than Caitlin, was at the lower end of the weight scale, even for a
six-month-old, and still wouldn’t eat without a struggle. And the fact that the doctor said there was
nothing physically wrong with her made Claire feel even worse. What was she doing wrong?
In the middle of the feeding, her
phone rang, preventing Claire from wondering again whether her going back to
work was only contributing to Delaine’s delays.
It was not a welcomed distraction, but she took a break from applesauce
airplane anyway and got up to see who was calling.
“Well, whaddya know… it’s your Uncle
Nick,” she said aloud as she picked up the phone. Flipping it open, she answered cheerfully,
“Turner International Airport, applesauce terminal.”
Behind her, both twins giggled, making
her smile. They couldn’t have understood
the joke, bad as it was, but they must have liked the chipper tone of her crisp
“phone voice.”
Nick didn’t get it either. “… Claire?” he asked after a few seconds’
pause, sounding confused.
“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry, you caught us in the middle of dinner. We’re playing airplane. You know… ‘open up for the plane, vroom
vroom.’”
“Ah…
gotcha.” Nick sounded amused; she could
just picture him smirking on his end, fighting the urge to laugh at her. “So is this a bad time?”
“Nah, it’s
okay. Lainey’s not eating anyway, and
Cait’s gotta be about full.” Just as
she said it, she turned to see Caitlin reaching hopefully for the Gerber jar
set just out of her reach on the table.
She grinned; Cait was a girl after her own heart. “I’ve got a few minutes. What’s up?”
“Well, I’ve
got a question for ya.”
“Okay,
shoot.”
“Howie’s
having a Halloween party in Orlando on the thirty-first. I don’t wanna be the only one there without a
date. Will you come with me?”
Her own reaction surprised her. She felt the corners of her mouth tugging
upwards, as a strange, girlish glee she had not felt in a long time bubbled
within her. He was asking her out…
wasn’t he? Well, maybe it wasn’t like that…
but either way, she hadn’t been to a party or out on a date in at least a
year. And she loved anything to do with
Halloween.
“Is it a costume party?” she asked.
“Um, yeah. So we’ll have to-”
“You’ll
have to put a costume together,” Claire interjected. “I’ve already got one.”
“Oh yeah? What are you gonna be?”
“Well, we’ve sorta got a theme going
on, the twins and I. They love watching
The Little Mermaid, so Cait’s going as Flounder, Lainey’s going as Sebastian,
and I’m going to be…”
“The little mermaid?” asked Nick, his
voice droll with amusement.
“Yeah.
Ariel.” Claire giggled. “The costume is so not me, but I couldn’t resist when I found baby costumes for
Flounder and Sebastian online. They’re
just too cute. Besides, I went as Ariel
for Halloween when I was ten and that movie had just come out, so it’s kind of
a blast from the past.”
Nick laughed. “You don’t have to explain yourself. So are you saying you’ll come to the party,
as long as you get to wear your mermaid costume?”
“I’m saying if you want me to come to
the party, you have to dress the theme.
You have two options: Prince Eric
or King Triton.”
“Uh… who’s King Triton?”
“Ariel’s dad. He has a long white beard, carries a triton,
and is totally naked except for his fish tail,” described Claire, fighting hard
to contain her laughter.
“I’ll be Prince Eric,” Nick answered
quickly.
Claire smirked. “I thought so.”
***
“Trick-or-treat!”
Claire’s voice was drowned out by a
huge squeal as the door flew open. “Oh
my gosh, you guys look so cute!” Her sister-in-law Amber practically bounced
up and down on her own doorstep before beckoning them in. “Come in, come in, and show everybody!”
Claire walked in, carrying Caitlin in
her yellow fish costume, and Nick clomped behind in his tall black boots,
Delaine nestled snugly in his arms. In
her velour crab costume, she felt warm and extra cuddly. As he carried her into the house, he stopped
to look around.
Kyle and Amber’s small living room was
a full one that night. In one corner,
Kyle was knelt in front of what had to be his son Kamden, fastening the chinstrap
of his football helmet. The little boy
was dressed in a miniature Miami Dolphins uniform. Smiling, Nick wondered if going as a football
player had been Kamden’s idea or Kyle’s.
Over on the couch were Claire’s
parents, who were getting up to come over and see the babies. They had driven all the way from Gainesville
to be there for the twins’ first Halloween.
“Oh, Claire, the costumes are
adorable,” gushed Carrie. She actually
looked teary. “You all look just
perfect.” She beamed at Nick before
scooping Caitlin out of Claire’s arms.
“So Claire roped you into this Disney
thing too, huh?” asked Kris as he came over, grinning at Nick. “You’re a good man.” He gave Nick a clap on the shoulder. “How ya been?”
“Really good,” Nick replied with a
nod. “Can’t complain. How about you?”
Kris smiled. “Just fine,” he answered. He looked older than Nick remembered, with
deep lines etched into his face and most of his reddish hair lost to gray, and
had lost enough weight to give him a slightly shrunken appearance. He was still a large man, but not as
powerful-looking as he had once been.
Nick returned his easy smile. “Good to hear.” He passed Delaine off to her grandfather,
and instantly, the baby began to cry.
The sound pierced at Nick’s heart, and instinctively, he reached out to
take her back. Then, realizing what he
was doing, he stopped himself and put his arms down. Kris hadn’t noticed; he was jiggling Delaine
in his arms, trying to soothe her.
“What do you think you’re cryin’
about, kiddo?” he cooed playfully to his granddaughter. “You were fine just a minute ago.” Smiling up at Nick, he said, “You must have
a way with her.”
Nick felt his face heat up. He’d felt awkward at first, joining Claire
and her children for Halloween, and not just because of the way he was
dressed. But after holding Caitlin and
Delaine back at the condo and making silly faces at them in the backseat the
whole way over to Kyle and Amber’s, he felt sort of an attachment to them. They were a part of Claire, and seeing the
way she interacted with them hit a soft spot inside him.
Hearing her daughter cry, Claire came
over to see what was wrong. She didn’t
interfere, though, just let her dad go at it, and eventually, Delaine’s cries
dissolved into hiccups. “There you go,
silly girl,” said Claire, squeezing the baby’s foot. “See, it’s just Grandpa. You threw a hissy fit for no reason.”
She was going to be a cool mom, Nick
had decided. The kind of mom who could
be nurturing without smothering, who could discipline but still kick back and
have fun, and who could be her kids’ friend without letting them walk all over
her. He saw all of those qualities in
her, as she talked to her baby.
“Hey, let’s get some pictures, before
you guys take off for Orlando,” said Amber, holding up a camera. “Nick and Claire, just you two first. Come over here.”
She motioned them over to the front
door, where she had some Halloween decorations on a table along with a big bowl
of candy. Nick went to stand beside
Claire in front of the display. At first
he wondered how he should pose with her – was it wrong to put an arm around her
when she was newly divorced, wearing a somewhat revealing mermaid dress, and in
the same room as her parents? No, that
was silly. They were friends, and they
were costumed as a couple. Hoping he
wasn’t going to over-think every move he made that night, Nick slipped an arm
around her waist, his hand sliding on the satiny fabric of her costume. He felt Claire’s arm come around his back,
and they both grinned for the camera.
“Very cute,” smiled Amber as she
previewed the picture on her camera.
“Ooh, let me see,” said Claire, and
Amber brought the camera over.
Nick looked at the picture over
Claire’s shoulder. They did look good
together, Claire in a lavender “seashell” bodice and shimmery, teal “fishtail”
skirt, and he in a white dress shirt, blue pants, red sash, and black boots. His costume wasn’t all that different from
the pirate costume he’d worn four Halloweens ago; in fact, it was more simple
and required no makeup. He’d considered
spraying his hair black, then decided against it. Claire’s hair was natural but for a hairpiece
she’d bought to add length to her red hair.
“Perfect,” Claire agreed when she saw
the picture. “Let’s get some with the
girls in it. Maybe a couple with Nick
and a couple of just the twins and me… I want to send some to Jamie,” she added
hastily, “and I don’t think he needs to know Nick was in on this. Talk about rubbing salt in the wounds…” She gave Nick an awkward look, and he had to
put a hand over his mouth to disguise the smile he couldn’t hold back. Jamie would no doubt he fuming if he knew
Nick was here, dressed in costume with Claire and their daughters.
Amber took a number of pictures of the
four of them together, Claire and the girls, just the twins, the three cousins
together, and the kids with their grandparents.
Finally, Claire checked the time and said, “Well, Nick and I should get
going. I’ll have my phone with me, so
just call if you have any trouble with the twins. I’ll be over to pick them up sometime in the
morning.”
“Sounds good. Have fun, you two,” said Amber as she ushered
them out the door.
Claire was quiet as Nick drove them
out of St. Petersburg and hopped on I-275 for the two-hour drive to
Orlando. He suspected she was having a
hard time leaving the twins behind, but didn’t press her. He just hoped she would liven up once they
got to Howie’s, and, thankfully, she did.
The party was in full force by the
time they arrived, and Howie’s place was hopping. Nick took Claire around through the clusters
of people, recognizing many he knew, some from years and years ago when the
Boys had been based in Orlando, and many he didn’t. He made introductions, and Claire kept up her
end of the small talk, especially once she had a few drinks in her.
After an hour or so of mingling,
walking in his tall boots was becoming difficult, so Nick found a place to sit
inside with Brian and Leighanne, who had come down from Atlanta for the
weekend. They sat there for another
hour, sipping drinks while Nick talked music and sports with Brian, and Claire
and Leighanne swapped baby stories.
During lapses in his conversation with
Brian, Nick would find himself just watching Claire. He loved the animated way in which she
talked, gesturing wildly with her hands as she raised her voice to be heard
above the rest of the party. She got
loud when she was drunk, and she was definitely getting there now, judging by
the way she kept throwing her head back as she laughed and touching Leighanne’s
arm or knee. She got touchy-feely when
she drank too.
The last year had beaten her down, and
it was refreshing to see her like this again – carefree, laughing, having
fun. This was the Claire he’d fallen in
love with, the Claire who could use her dark humor to get around her problems
and make him forget his too. It was as
if her soul had returned to the depressed shell Jamie had carved her into,
bringing it back to life. The marriage,
divorce, and motherhood had changed her and matured her, but he could see the
old Claire in her again.
If only he could find out, for once
and for certain, if her old feelings for him had come back too.
***
“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame… you give love a bad
name!”
She was full-out head-banging in the
passenger seat as she sang Bon Jovi – at the top of her lungs and horribly out
of tune. As he drove, singing along,
Nick couldn’t help but steal a glance at her every few lines. He had to remind himself that she was only
this lit because she was drunk, but she wasn’t yet sloppy drunk, just funny
drunk, and he found her adorable.
Irresistible.
It felt like old times, just the two
of them, rocking out to one of his rock mix CDs as they sped down the
interstate in his convertible. The top
was up, but Claire put it down during the guitar solo and belted the chorus to
the clear night sky.
He hadn’t seen her this lively in
months, years even; she was almost manic.
But this was her, the old her, the Claire he had loved, lost, and missed
for the last four years. He was enjoying
this just as much as she was. The music
blaring, the cool breeze on his face, and hardly any traffic in sight. He could drive like this for days.
“Ohh… you gonna take me home tonight…” A capella, the harmony of
Queen came blasting through the speakers, as the song changed, and Claire
quickly joined in singing along. “Ohh… down beside that red firelight. Ohh… you gonna let it all hang out. Fat-bottomed girls, you make the rockin’
world go round…”
A memory got Nick snickering, and he reached out to turn the volume down a
notch. Looking over at Claire with the
biggest, most shit-eating grin he could muster, he said, “I had a ringtone of
this song for when you called, back when you were preggers.”
It took a moment for the meaning of
this to sink in, but when it did, Claire’s mouth dropped open (the corners
twitching the whole time), and she slugged him playfully in the shoulder. “You ass!”
“Hey now!” Nick protested, steadying
the wheel with his left hand. “I’m
trying to drive here! Stay on your own
side… fatass,” he added, flashing another impish grin in her direction. She was the only woman he dared to call a
fatass, even jokingly.
“Ohh-ho… you don’t know what you’re
missing, Stumpy! You know you want some
of this…” Before he knew what was
happening, she’d unbuckled her seatbelt and hitched her mermaid skirt up high
enough to free her legs. He looked over,
and she was on her knees on the seat, her head high above the open top, one
hand holding onto the seat back while the other flailed above her in the air.
His heart skipped a beat, not only
because her ass was now inches from his face, but because they were going
eighty down the interstate.
Instinctively, he reached out with his free hand, caught her arm, and
tried to pull her down, but she just laughed and sang louder. “I’ve
been singing with my band, across the wire, across the land. I seen every blue-eyed floozy along the
way. But their beauty and their style
went kind of smooth after awhile. Take
me to them dirty ladies every time!
Ohh…”
“Jesus, Claire…” Completely flustered, Nick saw an exit
coming and took it, holding onto her as he swerved the car into the right lane,
braking as soon as he got onto the ramp.
As the car slowed to a safer speed, he let out a breath and turned onto
a highway that appeared totally deserted.
There was nothing in sight, not even a gas station, and he had no idea
what exit he’d taken. That was just as
well; he pulled over to the shoulder and stopped, jerking the car into park.
He turned to Claire and got another
full-on view of her ass, its curves hugged snugly by the teal taffeta of her
costume. “You want some tail?” she
giggled, offering a wicked smile over her shoulder.
He knew she was only messing with him,
but in spite of that, he felt his pants grow tight as the desire that had
burned and cooled to embers flared up again, searing deep down inside him. His pulse quickened, and at first, he didn’t
know how to react. It was on impulse
that he finally put both hands on her waist and pulled her down. She came toppling backwards and landed in his
lap, practically wedged between him and the steering wheel.
“Fuck, Nick, your wheel about took out
my kidney, and your damn fake leg is hard as hell!” she complained as she
struggled to scoot back into her seat, massaging her lower back as she sat
up. But she was still giggling… until
she suddenly stopped. “Damn.”
“What?”
“I have to pee.” She looked around, wrinkling her nose. “Couldn’t you have picked an exit that
actually had, like, a McDonald’s or a gas station or somewhere in the vicinity?”
“Sorry… I was more concerned about
keeping you from flying out of my car,” Nick deadpanned. “Put your seatbelt on, and I’ll find a rest
stop.”
“Forget it. I gotta pee now.” When he gave her an
exasperated look, she shrugged and added, “I dunno, but ever since I was
pregnant, I can’t hold it like I used to.
The feeling just kinda comes on really quick. They musta clipped a nerve or something down
there when they cut me open; who knows.”
Nick tried in vain to contain his
revulsion, but Claire just laughed at the look on his face and scrambled out
over her door. “Wait, where are you
going?” he called after her, and she turned with a “Where do you think, Sherlock?” look.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never peed by
the side of the road. All that traveling
you do? I wouldn’t believe it.”
“We have bathrooms on the tour bus,”
Nick pointed out, though he couldn’t honestly say he had never peed
outdoors. All guys did that.
“True.
But no potty in your BMW, so… excuse me for a minute.” She started to flounce off the side of the
road, into the ditch, then stopped.
“Don’t watch!” she shouted back at him.
“I don’t want to!” he shouted back,
but he looked long enough to see her start to hitch up her skirt and squat;
then he turned away. Quickly.
“I can’t believe I just did that,” she
sighed when she climbed back into the car a minute or so later. “I don’t think almost-thirty-year-olds are
supposed to still be peeing in ditches.”
Nick snickered. “Why, did you piss in ditches often in your
youth?”
“Well, no… not often. But, ya know…
college… drinking… I can’t say it never
happened.” She grinned, her tongue
poking between her teeth.
He shook his head. “You are something tonight.”
She smiled and relaxed against the
seat, leaning her head back. “I know,”
she sighed, “but I needed this. A night
where I can just be Claire again and not ‘Mom’ or ‘Mrs. Turner’ for awhile.”
He offered a crooked smile back. “Are you gonna stay ‘Mrs. Turner’
forever? Or are you gonna take your
maiden name back?”
Her lips twisted as she made a
face. “I dunno… I thought about it, but
it seems like it’d just be adding insult to injury to get rid of Jamie’s name.”
“But you’re divorced. Doesn’t it bug you to have to sign your name
that way? Doesn’t it make you think of
him?”
“Yeah… but then… I did marry him. He’s the father of my children; they have his
last name too. He’ll always be a part of
our lives because of that. I can’t just
sever all ties with him.” She paused thoughtfully. “There was a time when I was proud to sign my
name Turner.”
“Yeah… a time when you were out of
your mind,” Nick said wryly.
She gave him a look, though the corner
of her lips twitched. “Don’t be mean.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Besides, I won’t stay Mrs. Turner forever.
I’d like to get married again… someday.
When I know for sure I’m with the right person.”
She didn’t look at him as she said
this, so he studied her profile. “How
will you know for sure?”
Claire glanced over at him once, then
quickly looked away. She didn’t answer
at first, but the corners of her mouth twitched upwards again. Then they sagged, as her quiet answer
came. “I don’t know…”
He wanted to say something back to
that, but the thoughts in his head were too jumbled for him to find the right
words, so he said nothing instead.
After a moment of silence, she reached
out and turned up the music again.
“Fat-Bottomed Girls” had ended, and Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” was
playing. “Good song,” she murmured, hitting
a button to start the track over again.
Nick took that as his cue to drive and
put the car back into gear. Pulling
carefully back onto the road, he made a U-turn, unseen on the empty highway,
and merged back onto I-4, in the direction of his Tampa exit.
The rest of the ride was more
subdued. Claire’s buzz had apparently died
down a bit, and she rode mostly in silence, singing softly under her breath now
and then. At first, Nick wasn’t sure how
to read her sudden quietness – was she upset?
He worried that maybe he’d struck a nerve, bringing up Jamie, and
mentally berated himself for doing so and killing her good mood. Not that he wanted her half out his
convertible again, but he much preferred the happy-go-lucky Claire to the
sullen one.
As he slowed to a stop for a red light
in Tampa, the last track on his CD came on.
The slow guitar and piano riff, accented by the tinkling of chimes, was
familiar to Claire, and she drew in a breath beside him. “’Bed of Roses’? God, I loved this song when it came out. It was a staple at our school dances in
junior high.” She laughed. “My thirteen-year-old self thought that lying
down on a bed of roses was just about the most romantic thing in the world.”
“It’s pretty romantic,” Nick agreed.
She shrugged. “It is, but you can have romance without
roses. With the right person, even
Cracklin’ Oat Bran can be romantic.”
Nick had been watching the traffic
light, but as her words sunk in, he turned to gaze at her instead. She didn’t give him long to look. As the song swelled to its chorus, she suddenly
leaned over, slipped her hand around the back of his head, and brought his lips
crashing down into hers.
This kiss was awkward at first; it had
been so unexpected. But once he realized
what was happening, Nick relaxed into it, and the old, familiar comfort of the
sensation sank in. He struggled to keep
his foot on the brake as he kissed her, dimly aware of the fact that the light
could change at any time. But that was
the fun of it, the magic.
A car horn jarred them out of the
kiss, and Nick straightened to find that the light was as green as grass. “Shit,” he cursed, jerking his foot from the
brake to the accelerator and pressing it to the floor. The convertible shot forward, tires
squealing.
Once he was coasting at a reasonable
speed, Nick dared to glance over at Claire.
She had a mischievous grin on her face.
“Can we just, like, put that moment on pause until we get home?” he
asked her, practically begged her.
“Where’s home?”
“My place?” he suggested, raising an
inquisitive eyebrow. She nodded her
agreement, still smiling. And so, he
blew straight through the intersection he would have turned at to get to her
condo and headed for his own home instead.
It wasn’t far, but Claire made the
drive difficult. She kept messing with
him, teasing him, making it even harder for him to concentrate on the
road. She’d snake her hand across the
center console that separated them and rest it on his thigh. His inner thigh. When he turned to look at her, she’d wiggle
her eyebrows or lick her lips. She was
killing him. He forced himself not to
look at her for the rest of the drive, though that about killed him too.
Finally, in the safety solitude of his
own driveway, he threw the car into park, shook off his seatbelt, and tossed
his inhibitions aside. Leaning over the
console, he took Claire in his arms, pulled her closer to him, and kissed her
again. This time, the kiss lingered…
slow, long, and deep, not erratic and rushed as the first had been. But it was no less passionate. Claire kissed back with a hunger that seemed to
only have been whet by the first; she was ravenous, and so was he, and after a
few minutes in the car, they both seemed to decide it was not enough.
“Can we take this someplace more
comfortable than your car?” Claire asked breathlessly, and all Nick could do
was nod. He was almost afraid to speak,
even more afraid to move, terrified of doing anything that might interrupt this
moment. But he could do a lot better
than make out in a car, and so he let go of her long enough to quickly climb
out and met her again at the front bumper.
Taking her hand, he led her up to the
house and straight on through, stopping only for a couple of blankets. “Here,” he said, spreading them out across
the deck at the back of the house. “Make
yourself comfortable. Wait for me here…
for just a minute.” He held up his
index finger, giving her a meaningful look.
Afraid to leave her for too long, for fear the mood would be ruined by
the time he returned, he scrambled around the house and returned a few minutes
later with a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a torch lighter. He lit the tiki torches that lined the deck,
bringing a warm, soft glow to the poolside area, and poured the wine.
Settling down beside her on the nest of blankets, he let Claire take a sip of
her wine, then moved his lips towards the place her glass had last been. He could taste the wine on her lips as he
kissed her, sucking gently, savoring each second. Each one, he knew, could be the last, for he
was expecting her to come to her senses and pull away at any moment. She had resisted him for so long, he couldn’t
believe she would really let him have her now.
She was just teasing him, offering a taste to tempt him, but only a taste.
But Claire didn’t pull away. She kissed and caressed the way she had in
the car, with a thirst that couldn’t be quenched by wine, a lust only he could
satisfy. All it took were a few kisses
to wash away the awkwardness and let drift in the old comfort of being in each
other’s arms. As he put his hands on
her, his lips leaving hers and moving lower, down her neck and shoulders, Nick
forgot all their years of separation.
His memory took over, and in it, he was twenty-five again and head over
heels in love with the only woman who could complete him.
All inhibition was forgotten, as her
fingers moved to the buttons of his ruffled shirt, undoing them from the top
down and letting the front fly open.
Nick slid out of the shirt and felt the hair rise on his bare skin as it
met the October night air.
“You have goosebumps,” she noticed
with a smile, dragging her fingernails lightly down his upper arm to create
more.
“You do too,” he said, seeing the tiny
bumps rise on her pale skin. “Is it too
cold out here?”
“A little, but I’m not ready to go in
yet.” She glanced up at the sky, looking
all around. “It’s so pretty out here.”
“You know, the pool’s heated. The water should be warmer than the air
is.” He eyed her fishtail
suggestively. “You wanna give those fins
a try?”
The flickering torchlight caught the
grin that spread across her face. “Well,
you know what they say… ‘Darling, it’s better down where it’s wetter.’” Without another word, she got up from the
blanket, stepped over her discarded shoes, and sauntered down the three steps
that led to the lower level of the deck, where the pool gave off an enticing
glow. Watching the way her hips moved
from side to side as she walked in the figure-hugging skirt, Nick scrambled up
and followed as quickly as he could, leaving his shirt behind.
Perching in a deck chair near the
pool, he tugged off his boots and long stockings, then stood to pull down the
knee-length, blue breeches. “Sorry, I
dunno if Prince Eric wore boxer briefs,” he joked, feeling slightly ridiculous
standing there in the tight skivvies.
Glad to avoid having to make eye contact right then, he bent over to
undo the suction valve on his prosthetic leg.
Claire laughed. “Ariel probably would have preferred him in a
Speedo.”
That got Nick to look up, as he gave her
a revolted face. “Uh, hell no – if
that’s a fantasy of yours, it ain’t happening.”
“Not mine. I’m just saying… Ariel
lives in a penis-shaped castle; the girl must like to look at a nice
package.” She grinned, and Nick
smirked. Nice package, eh?
He hopped to the edge of the deep end
and dove in, glad to be below the surface of the warm water. It was indeed more comfortable than being out
in the open air, and he took his time in surfacing. The breeze felt chilly on his wet face when
he did, and a shiver ran through him.
“How’s the water?” Claire called.
“It’s nice. Come on, mermaid, flop your ass in here.”
“I don’t have an ass; I have a
tail. Which I think I’m going to trade
for some legs now, ’cause I think they’d actually serve me better for swimming. So if you don’t mind…” Without waiting for a response, Claire undid
the zipper on the side of the skirt and slid the sleek, shimmery garment slowly
down her hips and legs. When she stepped
neatly out of it, she was standing at the edge of the pool in nothing but her
lavender seashell top and a pair of silky, purple panties. They revealed the flaws that even the slinky
fishtail had hidden – cellulite on her thighs, stretch marks across her
stomach, and a slight pooch that had not been present before she’d had
babies. Nick noticed, but didn’t care,
and Claire didn’t seem self-conscious now that she’d stripped down.
He expected her to jump right into the
pool with him, but instead, she made quite a show out of prancing around the
edge, entering the water on the shallow end.
She descended the marble steps gradually, and only when the water was up
to her shoulders did she begin a slow butterfly stroke across the pool. As he watched her glide smoothly through the
water towards him, her red hair floating all around her, Nick’s heart began to
race in anticipation.
Something was going to happen
tonight. He couldn’t count on it, and
yet he knew it to be true. He could
sense it.
It was meant to be.
***
Claire knew it too.
She’d been drinking, and not all of
her thoughts were coherent ones; she was acting without thinking, but somewhere
in the back of her mind, she knew. She
knew what was going to happen, what she wanted to happen, and she let fate take
over, guiding her actions like the water carried her body. She didn’t think… she didn’t worry… she
didn’t second-guess herself. She just
let herself float. Straight into Nick’s
arms.
Soon they were locked in a watery
kiss, their toes brushing each other beneath the surface as they treaded the
water. She could taste faint hints of
chlorine and alcohol as she drew his moist bottom lip in between hers, sucking
gently, but most of all, she just tasted him.
Nick. The old familiarity of the
kiss returned, and rather than wondering what the hell she was doing, she
relaxed into it and gave herself over to it all. To the water, to the kiss, and most of all,
to Nick.
Breaking apart only to breathe, they
joined lips again and slipped beneath the surface of the water, their arms
encircling one another as they sunk and spun freely. Claire shut her eyes against the sting of the
chlorine, and her world beneath the water went dark and silent. She relied on touch… the feel of Nick’s lips
pressed tightly against hers, their bodies sliding against each other, her feet
floating freely, her chest growing tight as her lungs began to crave
oxygen. Just when she knew she wasn’t
going to be able to hold on much longer, she felt herself being thrust upwards,
as Nick’s powerful arms propelled them back to the surface.
They burst above the water and broke
apart momentarily, gasping for breath.
Claire sucked in a few mouthfuls of the cool, refreshing air, then
pulled Nick to her again to continue where they’d left off. His kisses were deep and frantic, as if he
were a man dying of thirst, desperate to drink up every last drop of her. And she felt the same. She couldn’t get enough of him, and relished
in the passion she hadn’t felt in so long.
“I feel like we’re heading towards the
porno version of ‘Kiss the Girl,’” she managed to say, breathlessly, as he spun
them around in the water, one arm wrapped around her, the other treading water
to keep them afloat.
He snickered and let go of her,
sliding lower in the water so that only his eyes could be seen above the
surface. They glimmered devilishly, as,
below the water, she felt his hand take hers.
She was pulled through the water as he swam backwards in uneven strokes,
whisking them back to the shallow side of the pool. Her feet could touch the bottom again, but
she didn’t want them to. She liked the
feeling of floating; she didn’t want to come down.
Bouncing weightlessly on his one leg,
he backed himself up against the deck side of the pool and pulled her to his
bare chest. She slid up against his
slick skin and pressed her lips against his left shoulder, kissing away the
beads of water that glistened along his collarbone and all the way over to his
right shoulder. Holding onto him, with
both arms wrapped around the back of his broad neck, she hooked her legs around
his waist. As her body was drawn even
closer to his, she felt him harden against her inner thigh.
Their eyes met. The desire radiating from his matched that of
her palpitating heart, and instinctively, she knew they were about to cross
over from playful kisses into something much deeper. Leaning forward, she kissed his lips, giving
her silent permission. Moments later,
she felt his hands caress the back of her neck, as his nimble fingers undid the
plastic hook of her halter. The thin
straps tumbled down her front, and the seashell bodice started to slide. Eager hands pulled them upwards instead, up
and over her head. As she shook her hair
free of the top, the night air tickled her bare breasts, raising goosebumps
upon the sensitive skin and hardening her nipples. She shivered from the sudden cold, but Nick’s
hands soon remedied that, and soon she was trembling from his touch instead.
He slid lower down the side of the
pool, submerging her further, so that only her shoulders were above the
water. Below, he caressed and squeezed
until she felt so weak, she wasn’t sure her legs would even support her. She closed her eyes, let her head loll back,
and held onto Nick, enjoying the warm water lapping against her shoulders and
the pure ecstasy his hands were giving her.
But soon enough, they were both
craving more. As they rose out of the
water, she pulled herself up against him again and slid slowly back down his
chest, leaving a trail of kisses down the center of his dripping torso. When she reached the waterline, she sucked in
a deep breath and ducked below the surface, continuing her descent until she
reached the waistband of his boxers. In
the freedom of the water, it only took a moment to slide off the shorts, and
her panties as well. She did both in one
breath, then surfaced, panting with a mix of exertion and excitement.
She brought her legs up and around him
again, and his arms encircled her waist.
Her fingers grasped the edge of the pool, and she threw her head back as
he slipped inside of her beneath the water.
A new warmth filled her on the inside, as they quickly found their
rhythm. In and out, he pulsed, like the
gentle lapping of waves on the beach, the endless rise and fall of the
tide. It was slow and sensual, yet it
was enough to make her heart race and his breathing grow shallow.
In that moment, she couldn’t help but
think that it was the best sex she’d ever had.
Filled with the passion fueled by their long time apart, uninhibited in
the water, they made love like they never had before. Flushed and panting, Claire felt her whole
body tremble as Nick thrust with new vigor.
Her fingertips clutched the marble ledge tighter, while his hands found
a firm hold on her hips. He led their
dance, back and forth, in and out. The
tempo grew faster and faster, and finally, he let out a strangled groan,
throwing his head backwards, and she felt a burst of molten warmth inside her.
A sigh escaped her lips, as she
relaxed back into the water, and he withdrew from her. Panting and exhausted, they floated in a
dreamlike state to the shallowest part of the pool, where the marble steps
descended straight into the water. There
they rested, Nick letting his seat sink to the bottom step and pulling Claire
onto his lap. She let one arm drift
lazily around him, while the other roamed his body, lingering on his chest,
lovingly stroking his arm up and down, even venturing beneath the water to his
stump.
“I missed you,” she murmured, moving
her hand away from his thigh and around his waist to embrace him. A lump of emotion rose in her throat, surely
brought on by alcohol and orgasm, and before she knew it, there were hot tears
in her eyes. She couldn’t find the words
to explain them right then, not even in her own thoughts, but as a single
teardrop slid down her cheek and mixed with the beads of chlorinated water on
her skin, she buried her face in his chest and repeated the only thing she
could think to say. “God, Nick, I missed
you so much.”
***
Lyrics: “You Give Love a Bad
Name” by Bon Jovi, “Fat Bottomed Girls” by Queen