Chasing Sunsets Part 35

I sat on the arm of the chair and closed my eyes. "Say that again."

Another chuckle. "You heard me."

"I heard you, yes, but I can't imagine you wanting to give up . . ." My words faltered. Of course. A weekend without the boys meant a weekend with the girl of his choice.

"I know what you're thinking. And, no, that has nothing to do with it. Not that I won't make the most of my time with them away-as I'm sure you are-but I'm just trying to be a nice guy here. After all, I divorced you, not your family."

My body slid into the chair. I hit my head against the buoy lamp on the nearby end table. I felt it rock behind me. I turned just in time to watch it crash to the floor.

"What was that?" he asked.

I sighed. "Nothing a hundred dollars won't replace."

"Oh. So . . . okay with you, then?"

I righted myself in the chair. "What's this going to cost me, Charlie? Another week away from my sons? Three days?"

"Kim, I'm not in this for anything other than that the boys can spend time with their grandparents and their Aunt Ami. I know ballet isn't their thing, but they love going to Atlanta, and your dad has promised a lot of fun things while they're there."

"Well, okay then. If it's okay with you, it's certainly fine by me."

A final chuckle came through the line before he said, "See? We can get along when we want to."

"Good-bye, Charlie."

"Good-bye, Miss Boo."

I frowned as I ended the call, stood, and surveyed the damage behind me. The lamp was made from an authentic Maine lobster buoy hand-painted in blue, yellow, and white. Fortunately I'd been with Anise when she'd ordered it online and could remember the name of the website. After I'd picked up the pieces and dropped them into a garbage bag, I called Patsy to see how she was weathering the storm and to tell her about my two interesting encounters that day.

"Do you see," she said, "how when we begin our day at G.o.d's feet, he takes care of the rest?"

"I've begun a lot of days at G.o.d's feet, Patsy, but I've never experienced anything quite like this."

"Then his name be praised."

"Amen to that." I looked toward the front door where the trash bag of broken pieces waited for the weather to clear. "Patsy, when the rain stops, do you mind if I come over? I need to order a lamp like I broke today."

"Of course you may," she said. "And while you are here, we'll have some hot tea to warm our bones."

"Sounds good, Patsy. Sounds real good."

Steven was as surprised as I over my conversations with Rosa and Charlie.

"Makes me wonder when the sky will fall," I said.

We stood just inside the front door of the house, his arms around my waist and mine around his shoulders. He laughed; the scent of his Doublemint gum reached my face, and I inhaled deeply. "I'll tell you when," he said. "It was about 1:00 this afternoon."

"Ohhh, did you get caught in it?"

"I'd say. There wasn't anything in the weather reports about it. It got pretty scary out there."

I drew closer to him, squeezing him as tightly as I dared. "I'm glad you're safe now," I said.

He nuzzled my neck. "It's nice to have someone who cares."

I drew back. "Where are you taking me this evening?" I asked.

"It's a surprise," he said.

I stepped back. "Am I dressed all right?" I wore linen sailor wide-leg slacks with anchor-shaped b.u.t.tons and a ribbed red and white striped sleeveless top. "You're perfect," he said. "As always."

The rest of the week was uneventful. I spent my days relaxing at home or at Patsy's and with occasional shopping on the island. Patsy set up a Facebook page for me; I "friended" my sons, Heather's kids, and Monica, my ex-sister-in-law.

On Friday midmorning I received a text from Chase telling me that his grandfather had asked them how they felt about my new "friend," meaning Steven.

I was folding clothes, fresh and warm from the dryer, when the message came. I dropped the towel I'd been folding into a heap on the dining room table to read the incoming message. I texted back.

WHAT DID CODY SAY?.

A few seconds later: HE'S UPSET. I GUESS POP DDNT KNOW U HVNT TOLD HM YET.

No, he didn't. And no, I hadn't. Of my two children, Cody would take the notion of his mother in another man's arms much harder.

TELL HM I'LL CALL L8R I was practically nauseous by the time a call came from Dad. I cancelled my date with Steven, telling him I had a headache-and I did-and that I needed to rest. When Dad's call came, I was lying on my bed, Max at my side, snoring. At the ring, his head jerked up; he looked around and promptly went back to sleep.

My father's first words were those of apology; I told him not to worry about it. "He had to find out sooner or later."

He put Cody on the phone, who sniffled a lot and said, "Does this mean we're gonna move?"

"I don't know what it means, son," I told him as honestly and as calmly as I knew how. "I only know that I have feelings for someone who has feelings for me too."

"You mean love," he spat. "Ugh!"

I rolled over onto my side. "Cody? Don't you want me to be happy?"

"I want you and Dad to be happy. Together. Like you used to be."

"I know. I know you do. And if it were possible, I'd fight for it. You know that, right?"

"Then why don't you? All you have to do is go to the beach with him and spend some time alone together."

I rolled to my back and laid my arm over my forehead, which was throbbing. "Cody, don't you think if that would work, he and I would have tried it?"

"You never did. You never tried."

I heard Chase's voice from near his brother. "Shut up, Cody. You don't know what you're talking about."

"I do too know! I've been talking to Dad and I know stuff."

Then my dad's soothing voice said, "Cody, give your mother some credit."

"Oh, Code," I said. "Listen, sweetheart. After the 4th of July, you and Pop and Nana and Chase will join me here at the beach house. You'll meet Steven, and I hope you'll give him at least half a chance." When he said nothing, I added, "I think you'll like him. He's got a boat and . . ." I swallowed. "He's buying a big house that has a dock and a place for cleaning fish. You'd like to go out fishing, right?"

"Not with him."

I hadn't expected this. Not to this degree, at least. Just what had Charlie been talking to him about? I took a deep breath. "Okay, Cody."

"Does that mean you'll stop seeing this guy?" The brightness in his voice never sounded so dark.

"No," I said. "I don't know what you and Dad have been talking about, and now is not the time to discuss it. But, what I'm saying to you now is that I'm going to let you work your way through this. Without trying to convince you this early in the game. Deal?"

"I won't leave Orlando. I'll live with Dad!"

My heart . . . The air went out from me; I was grateful to be lying down. I pressed my lips together. "No, you won't," I said, trying not to grit my teeth. "You don't get that option, Cody."

"You wait and see. I will."

"Cody, I'm going to end this call now. I want you to have a good time this weekend and try not to think about all this, okay? It'll work itself out. I promise." When he didn't answer, I said, "Code?"

"I'm here. And I'll have a good time, but I won't enjoy it."

I almost laughed out loud. "You do that, son, and I'll talk to you tomorrow. Give Aunt Ami my love."

"Whatever," he said, and disconnected the call.

I should have called him back and scolded him. I should have laid out his punishment when he got home, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. My heartache was too great at that moment. For a few days I'd managed to live carefree and like a woman in love. But now, I stared into a gla.s.s darkly. For now, my dreams were on hold.

Sat.u.r.day morning with Patsy was spent in lament over my phone call the night before. Patsy said exactly what I expected her to say. "Pray about it," she said, "and G.o.d will take care of it in his time and in his way."

"Patsy, didn't you ever worry about anything in life?" I asked.

She laughed. "Oh, dear. If you only knew my life story."

"But that's for another time," I concluded for her.

She looked at me with a twinkle in her eyes. "Yes, indeed, it shall be."

Steven had planned that on Sat.u.r.day evening we'd spend a little time with his parents-whom I hadn't seen in years-before he took me out to dinner. My inclination was to postpone for another evening; I feared the worry on my face might concern his mother.

"How are you feeling this evening? Better than last night?" he asked when we were on the way.

I nodded. "I'm fine."

He reached for my hand and held it in his own. "You sure? You seem a little . . . preoccupied."

My smile was weak, I knew. "I'm okay. Really. Don't worry." I peered out to the narrow winding road, down which his parents' house nestled behind one of the many split-rail fences and between the foliage near the water's edge.

"If you're sure . . ."

"I'm sure."

After a few moments he asked, "Have I done something to upset you?" which only made me laugh.

"No," I said. I drew the hand holding mine to my lips and kissed the knuckles. "You've done not a thing wrong."

Steven's mother looked exactly as I remembered her, only much older. His father's face and body showed sure signs of his recent illness. It broke my heart to think of Dad ever being in that kind of shape one day.

Steven and I visited his parents for nearly an hour. Mrs. Granger spoke with excitement about seeing Eliza the following month, and when she did, Mr. Granger's expression became more jovial. Before we left, Mrs. Granger gave me several jars of her homemade preserves and home-canned vegetables. "You can't get food like this from a store-bought can," she said.

"You're exactly right there, Mrs. Granger," I said.

She kissed me on the cheek as Steven opened the old, rattling front door and said, "Thank you for bringing a little joy back into his life."

I smiled and hoped my angst didn't show.

From the house to that night's restaurant choice, I thought of all the things that could go wrong now that Cody had made his objections known. I could force things, I knew, but what kind of relationships would we all have then? I could make it happen and pray for some sort of breakthrough. But what if it never came? More than anything, I was torn between allowing my son to call the shots in my life and standing my ground as the adult in our relationship.

During dinner Steven told me his offer on the house had been accepted.

"Oh, Steven, that's wonderful," I said. I reached over the pink-linen tablecloth and took his hands. "When will you move in?"

"I sign the papers in a few days, and I'll start moving in on the first. My rent is paid up until then so . . ." He shrugged.

"Have you called Rosa already? To tell her?"

He nodded. "She was a little miffed that I didn't buy through her."

I winced. "I bet."

"But I explained that I started looking before you and she had your talk, that I was still a little unnerved around her."

Our fingers intertwined and danced with each other. "Dinner was delicious as always," I said.

"You can't beat Cedar Key for good food."

"What are we doing next?"

"First of all, no dessert for you. I want to take you back to the house," he said. I must have looked puzzled because he added, "There's something I want to show you."

I nodded an okay; ten minutes later, we left.

Steven had somehow-once again-managed to snag the key before the sale of the house was complete. "Dessert is being served in the Florida room," he said. "Go sit. I'll serve."

The wicker chairs were still there. I sat in one and waited until he came in, carrying a large silver tray with two champagne gla.s.ses half-filled with something bubbly and a crystal bowl of chocolate-dipped strawberries.

"What are we drinking, Steven Granger?" I asked.

"Mom made it for us. It's a nonalcoholic champagne punch." He lowered the tray; I took a gla.s.s with one hand and a berry with the other. He placed the tray on the wicker table between the chairs, then picked up the remaining gla.s.s. He raised it and said, "To the most beautiful woman I've ever had the chance to love, not once but twice in my life."