Just a Number (Downtown #1) (13 page)

BOOK: Just a Number (Downtown #1)
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At the time I was just getting into yoga and meditation, my mother was struggling with her illness. Not only was it helpful to me, but it was beneficial to her. I was able to teach her techniques that I was learning to help combat some of her mental anguish. Knowing that she was getting closer to taking her last breaths on this earth, it helped her cope. It helped her work past her anger, her frustrations, and her regrets. It was great for managing her pain, enabling her to finish the creations she deemed most important. She knew she wouldn’t conquer all of her unfinished work, so she prioritized. My father and I helped her until she was completely bedridden. We were her hands at the end. She directed our every move.

When my mother died a few months after I graduated from my master’s program, a year later than I should have due to spending time with her, I had no real home to go back to anymore. I couldn’t see myself living in the house I grew up in—filled with so many memories—most good, but some really bad. My father had no desire to keep the house, either. My parents had divorced when I was in high school. My father had traveled over the years for his company job. Their marriage fell apart when my mother caught him cheating; a hazard of being married to a traveling salesman. He moved to the East coast permanently.

Finished with my undergrad degree, I had applied to get my M.B.A. in New York, and moved in with my dad. Once I completed my master’s program, with my mother gone, I stayed with him until I found full-time employment there.

Success anchored me in Manhattan, aside from the guest appearances I made. For those, I could easily travel anywhere. New York was my base, where I started gathering clients. I leased an apartment through a temporary housing building in LA as I signed up more West coast clients. I had no reason to relocate until I was approached with an offer I could not pass up. My chance to reach heights I had only ever dreamt about. With the outrageous deal, I could still manage a majority of my existing accounts. I did have to hand over some clients, but most I retained. The biggest plus with LA shifted as my home base, besides being excited to be back home, was that I would get to see my buddies more often.

I saw myself sitting on Leo’s back deck with everybody. His girls would be swimming with the arm floaties on, swinging on their big jungle gym or just running around, screaming with delight. Leo would be standing proudly at his grill. Trey would be concocting a variety of drinks, ever the chemist—mixologist. Rex would possibly have one of his chicks there or he’d be telling stories with covert wording in case little ears neared. Cinnamon would have her younger sister or Rex’s “woman of the moment” helping her in the kitchen, and they would pop out with samples.
Damn! I couldn’t get home fast enough.

My cellphone rang as if they were reading my mind.
Accept video chat from Leo
was displayed on the screen.

I hit the button and Trey’s face was the first one that appeared. “Hey, dude. We’re all at Leo’s for a barbecue. When do you move?”

“Week after the convention.” I grabbed a beer; my attempt to be part of the friendly gathering. “Can’t wait to get settled back
home
. See you knuckleheads. It’s been too long.” Even if I saw them when I was in LA on my business trips, it wasn’t the same. Our time spent together was always too short. I wanted to belong again. I didn’t want to be just a
visitor
.

“You’re not going to miss your dad and
your
mommy
and little brother?” Rex always liked to rib me about my dad’s latest toy.

“You’re a dick! She’s not my mother. For God’s sake, I’m a year older than her. That kid, it turns out, isn’t my father’s. Blood samples and DNA testing didn’t match. But, what the hell? He says he’s okay with it. He’s having fun with plaything number five.”

Since my mother passed away, even though they hadn’t been together in years, he went a little crazy with moving women in and out of his apartment. I thought he was a bit crazier with this new one, but he said he was happy reliving his youth with a baby.

“Don’t listen to them,” a woman said moving into view.

“Hey, Cinnamon, how are you doing? Looking good!” I winked at her.

“Stop hitting on my wife!” Leo yelled.

“This is how I’m doing…” A small round belly pushed on the screen while two little munchkins chimed in. “We’re going to be big sisters, Uncle Dash.”

My mind shot off to someplace it had never been before. Visions of Willow with a baby bump. Pregnant… carrying
my
baby.

“Come back, Dash!” Leo’s voice caught my attention.

I shook my head. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

“Damn! Who is she?”

“Nobody.”
Not a nobody by a long shot, Willow.

“Right! I’ve seen that look before. I saw it when I practiced my proposal to Cindy, standing in front of the bathroom mirror of the restaurant, where I popped the question.”

“You’re full of shit! Go join the group. I hear your page.”
Daddy! Daddy!
Echoed in the background.

“Yeah, better go. See you in a few weeks. Let me know if you need any help. Any romance advice.” Leo laughed.

“Will do. Tell everyone I said
goodbye
. Tell Rex I’ll call him tomorrow and don’t tell him you were trying to give me relationship advice. You know how he wants to be the expert.” We both laughed at that.
If only he knew about Rex’s other life.

Clicking off, I went to the fridge and pulled out another cold one. Settling back on the couch, I kicked my feet up on my coffee table, opened the bottle, and took a good swig. Looking around from my seat, I realized there was nothing left to do. Just wrap up some office stuff and ship it to my new space.

With nothing to do and no place to be at that moment, Leo’s words replayed in my head. He was right. There was someone. She was amazing. Unlike anyone I had ever met. She had me thinking about things I’d never wanted. Things I still believed I didn’t want. But if someone was going to change my whole way of life, she could do it. Willow could definitely have her way with me.
Ha!

It was time to shake things up. I had lost my mind for sure. I needed to get some yoga dates lined up. Maybe I would take another trip before the convention. My schedule was pretty free. I had been anticipating possible problems that might arise with the relocation. However, everything was in full swing, moving smoothly. I had too much time on my hands, obviously, if I was thinking about Willow and
our
babies.

Right or wrong. I really never wanted to have children. Even with thoughts of a baby, stupidly, in my head. It was just a fleeting blimp in my brain. Seeing what my parents went through with my brother always cured me. It also deterred me from a permanent relationship. A girlfriend had the possibility of turning into a fiancée, turning into a wife, and into a mother. All of which, I wanted to avoid at all cost.

I guess it was a blessing, after all, that I met Willow the way I did. We had a good time. We stuck to rules that worked great for both of us. No details. We were able to walk away. No one clinging. No feelings. No emotions. No painful goodbyes. Just fun. Just a number added. Just a good ol’ vacation fuck.

That’s what I would keep telling myself. But, I knew the truth. I missed her. Her smiling red painted lips. Her laugh. Her sparkling icy blue eyes. Her curvy body against mine. Our matched movement. Our breathing in unison. Our silent communication. I had it bad. And I had no way of getting to her. I only had her first name. No last name. Typing
Willow
into the computer search engine gave me a multitude of tree sites.

Not
my
Willow.

Chapter Thirteen

Willow

T
hanks to Dash, I was having a hard time sleeping until the sun streamed through my windows. I had been home almost three weeks and he hadn’t gotten out of my system, yet. Giving up most days, I showered, got ready for work, made coffee and sat down to read emails from my mother. Except for Thursdays when I waited for my faithful morning cup of coffee made by my wonderful housekeeper… my British friend.
What did Marian have to say?

From: Marian Dane

To: Willow Dane

Getting the hang of this

Today at 1:00 AM

Hello Dear,

I couldn’t sleep. Things sometimes feel like my first days with toddlers. The boys were so needy. Your father was so proud of me for giving him healthy, strong boys to carrying on his name. When you came along, we were a little shocked. Guess that proves we weren’t so square-ish. Sorry. Gross to think of your parents that way. LOL-laugh out loud! The boys were already ten and thirteen. You were the complete opposite. You were actually stronger than them. So independent from day one. You rarely cried. You didn’t fuss. You were the perfect sleeper. As you grew up, we grew apart. I think you saw me as a frail, mousy, meek woman, taking care of the house and doting on your father. That was what I wanted. Believe it or not, I got my dream life and if you wanted the same thing, I would’ve been fine with that, but I knew you wouldn’t. You were so opposite of me. More like your father. The boys are more like me. Happy, with their lives falling into place. Not ambitious, like you. Good for you.

Love,

Your Mother

Conversations with Hazel were so different than the email exchanges with my mother. I could never be open with her. I could never talk to her about my relationships with men or my lack of relationships with them. I wished I could talk to my mother. But, I knew what she would say. I’d heard it my whole life.
Women need to be married. Taken care of by their husbands. Home with their children. Cooking. Baking. Cleaning.
My mother was not typical.

She was a stylish woman with a 1950s mentality, passed down from generation to generation by her family. The idea stopped with me. I was a career girl. A definite disappointment by their standards. I wondered what they would say about their perfect little Marian being modernized by her friends. Disgraceful? Distasteful? Taking to the World Wide Web, surfing the internet and emailing her corporate daughter. I laughed, thinking of them rolling in their graves when—if she set up a social media account.

She hadn’t mentioned telling my father about her emailing adventures. He still must have been kept in the dark.
My mother. Ha! The rebellious woman!
I giggled.

“What is amusing you so, love?” Hazel asked as she entered my apartment with Mr. Simon. “We heard you in the hallway.” I hadn’t realized I was so loud.

Waiting for a cup of coffee, I sat down on a stool at my kitchen island. “I’ve being getting emails from my mother lately. She’s sneaking around behind my father’s back, it appears. She got the idea from her book club girlfriends after reading a book about old sweethearts having an affair after hooking up… reconnecting on the internet.”

“You’re mother’s having an affair? Harriet is cheating on Ozzie?” Hazel knew all about my mother and how I referenced my parents as the perfect 1950s sitcom couple.

I laughed at her comment. “No. Not Marian Dane. She would never break her marriage vows.” I couldn’t imagine her with another man.

“Have you ever been married, Hazel?” I asked as she joined me at the island.

“No, love. But I did have a wonderful man in my life. I believe the new term is: partner. For us, we were sinners, shacking up.” She snickered. “We never felt the need to wed. We never wanted children. We just wanted to be together.”

“Did you meet him here?”

“We met in London. He was the boss.” A wonderful grin decorated her face, making me join her with my own silly smirk.

“Scandalous. You minx!” I nudged her.

“I was a brilliant assistant to him. He brought me with him when his company asked him to relocate in America. We bought a condominium in Century City and commuted to work every day for twenty years. He passed away eleven years ago.” She paused, placing her hand over heart.

“I’m sorry.” I put my hand over the hand in her lap and she patted me.

“Albert was the love of my life.” She shook her head with a slight smile, wiping a stray tear. “Crazy how life is; he retired on a Friday and by Sunday, he was gone. We came downtown for brunch and a concert at the Music Center. After eating his favorites and sipping a couple mimosas, we walked across the street, and when he stepped up on the curb he fell flat on his face. Just like that.” She clapped a hand on top of the other. “A couple people performed CPR until the emergency team arrived and carted him away by ambulance to the hospital. It was too late. He was gone on the sidewalk.” She looked as if she could see him or as if she was reliving the moment. “He had such a smile on his face. He died peacefully. What a lovely, lovely man.”

“Sounds like you had a wonderful time together.”

“Oh the best, love. But, life goes on. I stayed in our place for about a year. Hated the commute by bus. I’ve never had a driver’s license. I moved in here. Work was across the street at the end of the block.”

“You stayed working at the same place?”

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