Defining Moments (11 page)

Making my way down to the gym, I find it completely empty, which is just the way I like it. I place my earbuds in, set my iPod to my workout playlist, and hit the treadmill. Within minutes, I’m a sweaty mess, basically because I don’t work out, and now that I am, my body is crying because of what I’m putting it through.

I manage to jog/walk two miles in thirty minutes, do some squats and burpees, and am pretty sure I’m going to die. I pushed myself too hard yesterday and shouldn’t have continued it today, so I know I probably won’t be able to move tomorrow. Two days in a row is maybe not a bright idea. I start to head over to the free weights to do a little strength training when I see movement out of the corner of my eye.

And there, in all his no-shirt, sweaty glory, is Cord. He’s on the rowing machine, and as I watch him pull back on the bar, every muscle in his body pulls tight, before he slides forward and pulls back again. He’s beautiful. I look at the mirrored wall behind him and almost lose my breath when I see his back. It is completely covered in tattoos, but I can’t make out what they are because he’s still rowing. As I watch the muscles in his back bunch and loosen with his movements, my mouth goes dry. Holy hell, this man is hot. I’m not sure when it finally dawns on me that I’m staring at him like he’s my next meal and his eyes are glued to mine. He smirks and it’s obvious he knows I’m ogling him.

Shit. I smirk back at him and shake my head. I start toward him to discuss our impending dinner interview and, then all at once, the story the boys told me floods into my brain and my steps falter. Can I really act like I don’t know what happened to his wife?

He must notice the difference in my facial expression because his smile slowly fades. He slows his movements and his eyes become concerned.

“You okay, E?” he asks loudly, breaking the awkwardness. His earbuds are in and he’s yelling. The fact that he has stopped calling me Ell and has apparently decided to give me his own nickname doesn’t get by me.

I nod and smile as I wave and head for the door. We’ll chat later. He smiles and returns my wave before continuing on with his rowing.

I’m in serious need of a shower and to get going on the rest of this day.

THE SHOWER FELT
amazing and I can already feel my muscles are sore. Tomorrow should be awesome. I have a ton of things to get done, but I know I can’t get anything else accomplished today until I hear my baby boy’s voice, so I figure I’ll call Destry first and see how he’s settling in.

“Hello,” says a sleepy female voice.

“Hello?” I respond, confused at first, and then pissed that there is a sleepy female voice answering my seventeen-year-old son’s phone.

“Can I help you?” she replies, irritated.

“I’m looking for Destry. Is this his phone?” I ask, thinking maybe I dialed the wrong number. I pull the phone away from my head and look at it. Nope. It says “Destry.”

“Who is this?” she bites out. I hear shuffling in the background, followed by Destry’s tired voice asking who it is.

“Tell him it’s his mother,” I grind out.

“Oh, my gosh, Mrs. Harper, I’m so sorry,” she replies, much more sweetly, followed by more shuffling. “It’s your mom, Destry,” I hear her whisper.

“Mom! Hey! What’s up?” he asks quickly, sounding nervous.

“Destry Joseph! Explain to me why there is a girl answering your phone at nine in the morning, sounding like I woke her up?” I screech.

“Mama, calm down. That’s Tynlee. She’s just a friend. We were up late doing homework and fell asleep. No big deal,” he replies solemnly.

My first instinct is to not believe him, but if Destry is anything, he’s honest. He has always been a kid who did what he wanted, told it like it was, and dealt with the consequences later.

“Destry, I know you’re a grown man now and doing your own thing. As much as I hate it, I understand it. But please don’t make me a grandma before I’m ready,” I tell him gently.

He chuckles before replying, “Stop worrying. I promise not to make you a grandma before you’re forty.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better, baby boy. I’ll be forty next year,” I laugh.

“Well, that’s what you always used to tell us when we were younger. ‘Don’t you make me a grandma before I’m even forty,’ you’d yell at us,” he chuckles, as do I, at the memory.

“I know. Now let’s change that to at least forty-five. You’ve got big dreams to live out. Marriage and babies comes once you’ve accomplished the other goals you’ve set for yourself,” I tell him truthfully.

“I know, Mama. So, how are you doing? How’s the new place?” he asks, changing the subject quickly.

“It’s really good. I love my new place and am actually taking advantage of the gym here. I haven’t tried out the pool yet, but I foresee lap swimming happening soon,” I reply with pride. “I jogged two miles this morning. Well, and walked too.”

“Good for you, Ma! Exercise is good for mental stability. I feel like I’m falling apart if I don’t get a good workout in. I’m proud of you for getting out there and focusing on your health,” he stresses.

“Thanks, baby boy. I made myself a promise when I moved into the apartment that I would start putting some effort into taking better care of myself. I’m not a spring chicken anymore, ya know,” I joke.

He laughs before telling me, “You’re beautiful the way you are. I am happy to hear you are taking charge of your health though.” I can hear the true happiness in his voice.

“Enough about me. How are you? How are your classes and football going so far?” I pry.

“Great! My professors have been awesome so far and I don’t feel like I’ve overbooked myself, which was something I was initially afraid of,” he starts. “Football practice has been killer. The turf is going to take some getting used to, but I have minimal burns from it.”

“Well, that’s good,” I reply with a smirk. BSU is known for its bright blue smurf turf, and I hear it can be a little unforgiving for guys who aren’t used to playing on it.

“My roommate is kind of an ass, but I’m dealing with him. I guess I shouldn’t complain too much. He dragged me to a frat party my first week here, and that’s how I met Tynlee,” he says almost too quietly.

“So what’s the real lowdown on this Tynlee girl?” I ask, knowing my son.

“She’s fun. Great personality. Gorgeous. She’s everything a guy like me should be looking for.”

His voice sounds weird, like he’s unsure of himself, which is totally not like my Destry.

“What’s the matter, Dez?” I inquire.

He doesn’t respond for a minute and I give him his time. I know he’s trying to figure out how to explain. He takes a long, slow deep breath before he continues.

“Mama, next time we are together, I think you and I need to sit down and talk. I know me saying that is freaking you out and you have to stop that right now. I’ve had a few weeks to really think about my life and the direction I want it to go in, and I would love to sit down and chat with you about it. That’s all I’m saying.”

I can hear the uncertainty in his voice, and that worries me. Destry is a very opinionated person and doesn’t really look to anyone for approval of his life choices. Never has. For him to want to talk to me about it is huge. I have to make a trip to see him very soon.

“Okay, Dez. I promise to come see you soon so we can talk and you can show me around that beautiful city you’ve been ranting about,” I respond honestly.

“Sounds good. Go enjoy your day and I’ll call you this weekend, Mama.”

“I love you, baby boy. Take care of yourself,” I tell him.

“Love you, too. Talk to you this weekend.”

As soon as I end the call, I grab my laptop and start pricing plane tickets. I haven’t found a new job yet, so this would be the perfect time to go see him, before I have a different work schedule to worry about. Looking at the calendar, I decide to go see Dez in two weeks.

I text him quickly to see if he’s okay with those days, and he responds that it’s fine. I book my flight for a Friday afternoon, returning that Monday. I know he has classes and practice to deal with, and I don’t want to wear out my welcome. I just need to see my baby boy. It’s been almost a month since he left, and I need to see he’s okay with my own eyes. I make reservations at the closest hotel to campus that I can find, so it’s easier for him to drop me off and pick me up.

After that’s all scheduled, I figure I might as well call Claire.

“LO,” CLAIRE ANSWERS.

“Hey, lady. What are you up to?” I ask.

“Oh, ya know, the usual. Work, home, repeat. What’ve you been up to? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in ages,” she blurts out.

“A lot,” I start. “I’m in my new place now. Destry had a girl answer his phone this morning, sounding like I woke them up. I have a hot neighbor who I went to dinner with last night, and I’m making him dinner tonight as part of an interview because he owns an amazing restaurant that I’m apparently applying for a job at . . . and the twins basically threatened to beat his ass last night when we didn’t return to the apartment until after 11 p.m. Oh, and then Justin texted me that sometimes he misses me so much he can’t breathe.” I literally blurted that all out, sounding like one long run-on sentence. I don’t even know if I took a breath through that entire thing. I knew I needed to get some of this stuff of my chest, but damn. She’s probably rethinking our friendship right now.

She chuckles before responding. “So, I’m coming to your new place tomorrow for dinner so you can fill me in on all this juicy shit that’s happening that I’ve been missing?”

I don’t know why I always seem to forget how nice it is to have a friend that I can literally just lay it all out there and she won’t judge me. For all the years I was married to Justin, I don’t ever remember making a huge effort to keep my friendship with Claire alive. I mean, I had a house, husband, and three boys to take care of. I had little time for myself, much less time to worry about a relationship with my friends. I regret that immensely.

I lost a lot of friends over the years I was married. We all lost touch as we got married, had babies, and moved on with our lives. But once Claire and I reconnected all those years ago, she has always made the effort to stay in my life. To make sure I was okay. I had neglected to see the amount of time and dedication she’d had to our friendship until this very moment. She had kept our friendship alive all these years. She’d cared enough about me to know I didn’t have the energy to spend anywhere but on my kids and she didn’t care. She continued to love me and make the effort anyway. She is my best friend and I had been neglecting her for years,
lots
of years.

“Thank you, Claire,” I choke out. “Thank you for always making sure I was okay, regardless of how busy your life was. I know I’ve never said it before, but I love you. I love that you care enough about me to stick with me through everything, even when I was so wrapped up in my own life that I didn’t make time for you. I’m so sorry.”

“Girl, you don’t owe me an apology or an explanation,” she replies, her voice thick with emotion. “I think I’ve always known in my heart the day would come when you’d get away from that asshole and my brain told me you’d need me when that happened. I love you too, Ellie. You’re my best friend.”

I take a minute to get my emotions back in check.

“So what am I making you for dinner tomorrow night?” I laugh.

“Chicken potpie, of course. You know I’m a sucker for a good homemade potpie,” she responds gleefully. “I’ll even come over early and help you. Want me to bring red or white wine?”

“Help me my ass. You might as well bring both red and white because you know your idea of helping is to watch me while drinking wine,” I snicker in response.

“I’m there for moral support,” she replies seriously.

“Okay, smart-ass. How about six? That’ll give us time to chat it up, drink some wine, and make some yummy potpie. And seeing how I live alone, you might as well bring an overnight bag so that if we drink all the wine, you can just crash in my spare room.”

“It’s a date, babe. See ya tomorrow,” she assures.

“Tomorrow . . . and don’t forget the wine,” I tell her before hanging up.