Games of the Heart
Page 78

But I had the feeling something was on his mind, something was concerning him, something he wasn’t sharing. And I’d have to give up sex to get it.
I was prepared to do this. But when I walked through his back gate and hit his backdoor the last three days, Mike was prepared for something else. I knew this when he grabbed my hand, dragged me through the house and up to his bed without delay.
I would have been okay to take the thirty seconds it took to hit his bed and use it wisely on his couch.
Mike was a bed man. I didn’t know if he paid so much for it he wanted to get as much use out of it as he could or if he didn’t want to be sitting on his couch with his kids thinking of doing me there.
I did know he was an adventurous lover. To get me off and him off in thirty minutes, he got resourceful.
Needless to say, Mike, his body, his mouth, his hands and his ingenuity, all of which ended with his smiles and his slow burn kisses, I didn’t protest and demand we chat over sandwiches instead of getting down to business.
As busy as he was, as brief as our quickies and conversations were, Mike made certain I knew he was thinking of me. And he did this yesterday afternoon when another delivery boy arrived from Janet’s Flower Shop. This time, a lush, close bunch of vibrant pink and so deep purple they were nearly blue hyacinths.
The card said,
Angel,
You didn’t mention it but I didn’t forget it. I missed Valentine’s Day.
But this day is more important, our anniversary.
Mike
At first, I didn’t understand. Then, I remembered it was Wednesday. I got home on a Wednesday. I forgave him on a Wednesday and we reconciled on that Wednesday.
Our anniversary.
Getting those flowers and note, I didn’t squeal inside. I melted.
I never knew a man who remembered stuff like that so I never had a man who remembered stuff like that. I’d had men give me flowers and I didn’t know if Janet was just super talented or Mike had fantastic taste because I might have had flowers but never any as strikingly beautiful as the ones Mike sent. Never having a man who did something like that, remembered shit that was important and made a point of letting you know it, I didn’t know it would feel so damned good.
But it did.
It was also a surprise. Mike was thoughtful, definitely, but he didn’t strike me as a flowers type of guy. So it was a surprise but a pleasant one because, as with everything he did, he did it really well.
Even with his focus on me in good ways, I still knew he was preoccupied and I needed to take his pulse and the more time that went by where I didn’t find my opportunity to do it, the more my concern grew. But with our lives the way they were, I didn’t see that opportunity opening up anytime soon.
It was going to be a long week and a day (and I was counting them down) before I got unadulterated Mike time.
There was movement at the barn doors, my head went from the vase I was making to them and I saw Rees hesitantly standing there.
A surprise.
“Hey, honey,” I called.
“Uh…hey, Dusty. Sorry,” she shifted as if to move away. “You’re busy.”
“Come in, Rees,” I invited. “If I can work and listen to rock ‘n’ roll then I can work and talk to my girl.”
“Sure?”
“Definitely. Hit the music and pull up a bale of hay.”
I focused back on what I was doing while Rees wandered around me. The music didn’t go away but she turned it down. Then she grabbed a bale of hay, tugged it close to where I was working and sat down on it. My eyes slid to her several times as she did this and continued to slide to her as she sat, watching my hands work.
I decided since she sought me out to let her set the scene.
It took her a few moments but finally, she set it.
“That’s pretty,” she said softly, I looked to her to see her eyes still on my hands.
“Thanks,” I replied. “It’ll be prettier when it’s fired and glazed.”
“Cool,” she whispered.
“Wanna learn how to do it?”
“No.”
This came so swiftly, I glanced at her again to see she’d leaned back a bit and had a funny look on her face.
“No?” I asked quietly.
Her eyes went to my face then back to my hands and she murmured, “I’m not good at that kind of stuff. You showed No, half an hour, he’d make something awesome. I’m not like that.”
This was telling.
No was a good basketball player, the best in school. And everyone talked about his band, said the other boys in it were okay but No was awesome. I got this information from Kirby who pretty much thought No’s shit didn’t stink. He had no reason to talk No up, he was just sharing. I was getting the impression that Fin was Brownsburg High School’s resident hot guy and Jonas Haines was its cool guy. The girls swooned when Fin was around, secretly hoping he’d turn his broody intensity their way and they could soothe his savaged soul. The girls swooned when No was around, secretly hoping he’d flash them his easy, lazy smile and they could bask in his glory.
But Kirby didn’t feel overshadowed by his brother. Darrin, even Rhonda and, lastly, Fin saw to that. He had his place in the family, his strengths were recognized and praised. Fin and Kirb didn’t get along every second of every day but they were tight. Kirby looked up to his brother and Fin guided him with a gentle hand making that big brother worship worth it.
I saw with Clarisse’s reaction there was another dynamic at play in the Haines household. Rees felt overshadowed by the number of her brother’s clear talents. She bickered with her brother but good-naturedly so I didn’t feel it was the dysfunction I had with Debbie. It wasn’t No rubbing in his abilities and popularity.
It was something else.
And I figured I knew what it was.
Things were coming clearer with Rees. She had a Dad who adored her, a brother she was close to but no mother who recognized and praised her. Daddy’s little girl and big brother’s little sister, those were a given if you had them all your life. But Mom could guide you on the journey to understanding who you were and help you cement your value as a woman.
Audrey Haines was not doing that and Clarisse was lost.
Treading cautiously, I said, “That’s okay, honey. Not your gig, not your gig.”
We lapsed into silence.
Then, “No said you’d teach us how to ride horses.”
“Sure,” I glanced at her, “you want that?”
She nodded.
I looked down at the clay. “Wanna start Saturday?”