“Mom, seriously, we are not going to hang with you.”
“I know. Really, I do,” I said, more for my own breaking heart than for her. “So, a lot of homework tonight? You need a good shower—”
“Duh, and always a lot of work.”
“I won’t be late.”
“Where are you going again?” she asked, taking a sip of her LaCroix.
It wasn’t like I never ventured out. Sometimes, I went to a work thing or school committee meeting. On a few occasions, I met another mom, so this wasn’t so out of the ordinary. But my lying about where I was going was.
“Quick work meeting and a get-together with a few writers.”
“Sounds good. You should have a good time, Mom.” With her hands in her lap, Priscilla stared at me, seeing all the way to my soul. My brave, smart girl, a ray of sunshine clearing away the dark skies.
“I will, baby girl,” I said, reaching over to smooth a strand of hair out of her face.
“Go,” she said with a smile, digging through her backpack before setting a big history book on the table. Then she picked up her last slice of pizza from the to-go box.
“Love you,” I said, guilt heavy on my shoulders. But I deserved a moment’s happiness, and the end game was to get out for myself and my daughter.
“Love you too, Mom.”
I snagged my keys from the counter and blew Priscilla a kiss.
Mick
For our next get-together, I chose an exclusive sushi place near my condo. Not because I wanted to be showy, but I felt like the exclusivity would offer us some privacy. I knew Margo was leaving her daughter home alone to meet me, and this would likely be a dinner-only deal, but I wasn’t deterred by that.
In fact, I was pretty sure things had rolled around too fast for us. I’d had enough time to think about it in New York, and then when I returned, I got caught up with work, and Margo explained she couldn’t get a night off.
I waited outside the restaurant rather than heading in for our table, and exactly one minute after seven, Margo pulled up at the valet in her Volvo. She handed the keys to the attendant and looked up with a smile only for me. At least, that’s what I told myself before mentally berating myself over falling for a married woman.
Margo smiled shyly as she walked toward me. “Hi.”
“Hey,” I said back with a wink.
We were careful not to hug or embrace like I wanted to before we walked into the restaurant side-by-side.
“Grantham,” I told the host, and he nodded.
“It’s so pretty in here,” Margo said, taking in the navy walls and dimmed chandeliers with wide eyes.
“Sushi is good too,” I said before hip checking her.
I couldn’t help it—I needed a tiny bit of physical contact. Something else I’d berated myself for days over. I mean, if I was going to hook up with a taken woman, why pick one with a whole host of issues? My therapist wasn’t far off when she told me I had rescue fantasies.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had great sushi. I’m excited.”
And that’s why I couldn’t stay away from this fair-haired beauty. Margo’s need to experience life was infectious.
Seated at a table in the back, Margo in the booth looking out and myself in a chair directly across, I noticed her eyes were all made up, her lids sparkly, and her hair was in gentle waves.
“You look beautiful,” I whispered. “Wish I could be next to you, pull you close to me, and breathe you in.”
With her gaze downcast, she breathed out my name. “Mick.”
“I know. I’ll behave.”
