Thought I Knew You (24 page)

“No… no.” He sighed. “I’m here because she was smart enough to do what was best for me when I couldn’t.”

“What do you want?” I was thinking of his life in the city and my life in the suburbs.
It can’t actually work. Can it?
Was love enough? I envisioned Olivia in Drew’s world. She knew the people, the politics. I was an outsider, figuratively and geographically. My life was about
Sesame Street
and preschool. I knew nothing of art shows and gallery openings.

He bridged the gap between us on the couch and touched my hand. “I want you. In my life. Every day. I have wanted that for as long as I can remember.”

We laced our fingers together, and I studied our hands. I knew Drew’s hands as well as my own—long, thin fingers with large knuckles, hands that fixed things, hands that kept me from falling during every rough spot in my life. He pulled me toward him.

I leaned against him. We were going down a path both of us had only dreamed about. I unbuttoned his shirt and slowly explored his chest and stomach with my hands. I leaned forward to kiss him. I heard his sharp intake of breath as I worked the button on his jeans. I stood and pulled my sweater up over my head, then worked my jeans down over my hips. I straddled him, taking him inside me in one smooth motion.

We moved together, languidly and unhurried, relishing the moment for which we had both waited so long. I gazed in his eyes as we climaxed.

He whispered, “I love you.”

I love you, too,
my heart responded.

I woke up on Christmas morning, wrapped in Drew’s arms on the living room couch, covered with a fleece, holiday-themed throw. I prodded Drew awake, then kissed him, thinking for the first time how fantastic it felt to be able to do that.
Like something I never knew that I always wanted to do.

“Get up,” I whispered, giggling.

“What? Why?” He struggled to sit up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Because if we don’t put clothes on soon, the girls are going to really have a memorable Christmas.”

He grinned. “I think we can safely call this a memorable Christmas.” He leaned forward to kiss my neck.

I reluctantly pushed him away. “Go. Clothes.
Now.
We’ve got maybe five minutes.” Pulling the blanket up over me, I ran on tiptoe as quietly as I could up the stairs and into my bedroom.

I changed into pajamas and was back downstairs mere minutes before the clattering of little feet thundered down the stairs. The girls stopped abruptly when they saw Drew.

“Santa brought us Drew,” I told them.

They squealed with delight, jumping on his lap simultaneously. Drew mimicked their exuberance until the cacophony in the living room became so great that I held two fingers to my mouth and whistled. Everyone stopped and looked at me.

“She really ruins everything, right?” Drew whispered to Hannah.

She nodded seriously.
No fun at all
, she mouthed back.

“Okay, it’s Christmas. Santa brought Drew, but he also brought some presents. And I need coffee. And breakfast. What do you want to do first?” I asked with mock seriousness.

“Presents!” they shouted.

“Presents
after
coffee,” I corrected.

They wiggled with anticipation as they sat in front of the tree, waiting for me to bring in the coffee. I sat on the opposite end of the couch from Drew. He touched my hand lightly as I passed him his coffee. Distracting electricity. I couldn’t reconcile our previous night’s activities with my life that included the girls. While everyone opened their presents, I found my mind wandering to the night before—his tentative, but soft touch, his almost shy expression, as though the moment could vanish in a puff of smoke. And I blushed, realizing Drew was watching me. He gave me a sly smile. I’d forgotten how easily he could read my face, my mind. I had no secrets from Drew. My emotions were an open book to him, written in a language that only he knew.
Yes, this is going to be different.

The girls were thrilled at the Wii and begging Drew to hook it up for them immediately. They played in their pajamas until my parents came over at one o’clock.

“Drew!” Mom exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I thought I’d come by for some Christmas ham.”

We were apparently on the same page. I wasn’t sure how or when to tell my parents that I may or may not have a… a boyfriend. The word sounded so juvenile. How does a grown woman, an apparent widow, acquire a
boyfriend
? Was there some other more socially acceptable word? Lover was too ridiculous. Partner was too… politically correct.

Mom looked thrilled to see him and patted his cheek affectionately. He winked at me.

She carried the ham in a roasting pan covered in cellophane. “I’m going to pop this in,” she said.

Dad joined the girls in the living room, where Hannah was anxious to show him her new toys. Throughout the evening, I kept catching Drew’s eye, and he would wink or smile. I found myself wondering if he was really content playing house with someone else’s kids, in the suburbs. He looked at me with such apparent love that I quickly quelled the thought. When we passed in the kitchen, he touched my hand. Or my shoulder. Or once, he discreetly patted my butt, causing my knees to turn to jelly.

After dinner, Mom and I sent the kids and the men to living room while we cleaned up the dinner dishes.

“How long has this been going on?” she asked.

Or maybe not so discreetly.
“What?” I asked, trying to sound innocent.

“You
know
what. Careful here, Claire. I want you to be happy; you’ve been through so much. But you’re not alone in this, and those kids are fragile. They’ve had a rough year.” She was drying a dish, avoiding eye contact. Her words were true and tough, but her voice was gentle. I remained silent, choosing to neither confirm nor deny. “And I also believe that man has been in love with you all his life. Make sure you know what you’re doing, or there will be four broken hearts in this house.”

I nodded.
Message understood
. She kissed my cheek and joined my family in the living room amidst shouts and squeals of laughter as Hannah and Drew competed in Wii bowling.

I couldn’t remember a happier Christmas.

Chapter 29

“H
annah! Leah! Let’s go!”

“Seriously,
leaving the house in a reasonable amount of time isn’t a thing that happens,” I muttered. Macaroni salad, juice boxes, a half-eaten bag of hot dogs—just in case—and goldfish crackers all went into the soft-sided cooler.
Where did I put my camera?
I opened the cabinet I usually kept it in and groaned in frustration.

“Relax.” Drew put his arm around my waist. He lifted my hair and kissed the back of my neck. “You are way too stressed about this.”

“It’s our first outing together. As a couple. With all of my old friends. I’m so nervous.”

“I should be nervous, not you. Do I look nervous?”

I shook my head. No. Drew was never nervous.

“Do you know where I put the birthday present?” I asked.

“It’s in the car. Please. Stop.” He pulled me to him and kissed my lips.

My mouth opened, and he gently pushed me against the counter. My knees weakened.
This is unnatural. How easily he can do this to me.
How it hasn’t faded, even a little.

He pulled away. “See? I relaxed you!” He smirked.

“You did something to me, all right. Now, please be helpful. Can you go get Hannah and Leah and drag them down here? It’s Hannah’s best friend’s birthday. You’d think we wouldn’t be the last ones there.”

He laughed as he walked down the hall. His long legs covered the distance in less than five steps, and he was up the stairs in a matter of seconds.

“We’re having a race!” His loud booming voice echoed off the foyer walls. “The first person, myself included, to get in the car, strapped in, and ready to go to the party will be allowed to go on the swings first at Annie’s house. On your mark, get set,
go
!”

Three sets of footsteps, two light, one heavy, thundered down the steps. Within a minute, everyone was in the van, frantically buckling seatbelts.

After tossing the cooler in the trunk, I jumped into the driver’s seat and turned the key.

“You like?” he asked, grinning.

“Yes, I like. Although a race down the steps? Probably not the best idea…”

He shrugged. “You never like my methods, yet you don’t mind the success rate. Besides, I totally won that race.”

“Uncle Drew didn’t win. I did.” Hannah pouted.

“Just call him Drew, Hannah.” I had been trying to get the girls to drop the “Uncle” for a while. I took a deep breath, calming my frayed nerves.

Steve and Melinda had never met Drew, although when I had seen Melinda in the grocery store a few weeks ago, she mentioned she had heard that I was seeing someone. I wondered how she’d heard. Was it from a well-wisher passing along happy news or something whispered furtively behind a hand, with a knowing smile?
Her husband might not even be dead, you know.

It had been six months, and Drew insisted that I needed to stop caring about other people’s perceptions. For the first two months of our courtship, I refused to go to any restaurant where I might see someone from the neighborhood or church. That generally meant we had to drive twenty minutes in any direction to have a meal. I didn’t rehire Charlotte as my date-night babysitter; I found a girl from the community college bulletin board. Drew grew tired of secret dating, but was patient with me. Annie’s birthday party marked the first time I had brought Drew to any neighborhood function.
Greg’s replacement.
I tried not to think like that, but I knew others would.

“Okay, so whose house are we going to?” Drew asked again. Fact I never knew: Drew had a terrible time remembering names.

“Melinda and Steve. They have one daughter, Annie, who is Hannah’s best friend. You’ve met her. Rob and Robin will be there, and you’ve met them.” A few weeks ago, we had taken the girls to dinner at the Masters’s house. I’d had the same fears that night as I had today, but I knew Robin and Rob wanted nothing but the best for me. Drew had brought an expensive bottle of wine and a bottle of whiskey. By the end of the night, everyone was talking like old friends.

Robin had pulled me aside as we were leaving. “Claire, Drew is wonderful. I’m so glad to see you happy.”

We embraced, and I felt thankful to have an ally in the neighborhood. When I said that to Drew, he’d sighed. “An ally implies some kind of war, Claire. How do you even know anyone will care?”

As we pulled into the driveway, Melinda met us at the van. “Hi, I’m so glad you came!” she squealed, hugging me, then opening the back door to let the girls out of the car.

Hannah bounded right for the swing set and Annie, leaving Leah in her wake.

Taking the cooler from my arm, Melinda extended her hand to Drew. “I’m Melinda,” she cooed.

I watched her, oddly unaffected by her flirting. She walked uncomfortably close to Drew, and I gauged his reaction. He turned around, caught my eye, and winked. I had told him about Melinda’s reputation as the neighborhood floozy.
I have no idea how she’ll be to you.
Drew, with his obvious striking looks, commanded her full attention. He was attentive, even ironically flirtatious, in return. She clucked around him, handing him a beer from the fridge and peppering him with questions. Where did he live? What did he do? Every answer was met with a “Really?” or a “Wow, that’s so interesting!” as though he were a CIA operative, instead of a photographer.

As I unpacked the macaroni salad, I pretended to ignore them. I was curious to see how Drew would fit in with the shark pit of suburbia. He wasn’t as obtuse as Greg, who had been oblivious to the gossip and malice. He was an artist, a student of human nature.
I can only imagine what his next photography collection will be.
I caught myself smiling.

“How are you holding up?” Melinda asked me.

I looked at her, startled. Her head was tilted, her eyebrows knitted—her insincere concerned face. I secretly called it the “fish face” because the expression was always accompanied by a badly disguised effort to ferret out some morsel of information to pass along to the masses.
I saw Claire Barnes in Stop & Shop today, and you’ll never believe what she told me…
as though delivering their fresh catch of the day.

“Oh, I’m doing well,” I replied, treading carefully. “You know, it will never be easy, but I have a strong support system. So that’s been great.” Drew rested his hand on my shoulder.

“Well, that’s important,” she replied with a knowing smile. “And Drew here, I’m sure he helps, too.”

“Oh, well, Drew has been a friend since we were kids. He’s been fantastically supportive,” I said.

“Oh! So… you’re just friends, then?” She pointed at us, waving her finger back and forth, curiosity disguised as concern.

“We were very close friends growing up,” I said. “And not that it’s anyone else’s business, but yes, we have become an item.”

“Oh, well, are you—” Melinda began, her concerned façade all but dropped in the excitement of such a juicy confirmation.

I cut her off, holding up my hand. “Melinda, thank you so much for asking about me. But at this point, I think I’ve said all I care to say. I’d also prefer it not become gossip fodder, if you can help yourself.”

She took a step back. “Claire, I completely understand.” She put her hand on my arm. “If you guys need
anything
at all, let me know.” She hastily went inside to greet other, but surely less interesting, guests.