A Family Affair

“Yeah, that was Chad,” Joe agreed.

“But he did know empathy well. There were times I needed him and he could comfort like a pro.”

“Which is what he was,” Joe reminded her. “Let me ask you something. If you could wave a magic wand and have anything you want, what would it be?”

“Ah, you might have found my fatal flaw,” she said. “Not that I would wish for too much, but that I want too little. All I ever wanted was someone to be tender with. Someone to trust and love and believe in. I learned early on that my husband wasn’t perfect, but then neither was I so why would I judge? I had always hoped that if I could be thrilled with the love of a simple, honest, dependable man, that he would therefore be grateful for me. Even with the rough patch we were traveling through, I still believed it was possible. But now he’s gone and I’ll never know.”

Joe leaned toward her and kissed her. “It’s still possible, Anna,” he said. “I’d like to apply for the job.”



ELEVEN


Michael called his mother at about ten in the morning, respectful of the fact that it was Saturday and she had been working late every day. “I thought I’d swing by the house and make sure everything is handled—like trash collected, yard and pool clean and serviced, you know. Things Dad would have done.” Though even Michael knew that Chad wasn’t that great with household chores.

“Oh, Michael, that’s not necessary, really. I called the yard and pool people and they’re on top of it. And I’m not going to be home today. I’m driving up to the wine country with a friend.”

“A friend? Who?”

“Someone I’ve known for years. From work. I don’t plan to be home until early evening. Do you need me, honey?”

“No,” he said. “No, of course not. I just wanted to help out.”

“That’s so thoughtful,” Anna said. “Don’t you have a practice or game or something?”

“No, we had a game last night. We won.”

“Congratulations! I’m sorry I missed it! I’ll make it a point to see the next one. Why don’t you take a day off. That’s what I’m doing. The last few weeks have been so intense.”

“Good idea,” he said. “But if you need anything done, you’ll let me know?”

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll talk to you later. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Perfect,” he said.

But Michael’s life was anything but perfect. He was miserable. If it wasn’t bad enough he was grieving the loss of his dad, he had broken off with Jenn and she had disappeared. Michael tried to remember what he thought the result of breaking up would be and it was nothing like what had actually happened. He thought he had been doing the difficult but noble thing by breaking up, setting them both on a path of starting over, but that wasn’t what happened. Jenn was angry and out of patience, which he now realized was just what he deserved. He’d been an idiot, letting a woman he cared so deeply about get away.

He parked his SUV in front of his mother’s house, thinking about what to do next. After a long mental study of his emotions, he got out of the car and opened up the garage. It looked pretty good, since he’d done a serious cleaning and trash hauling just a couple of weeks ago. He let himself into the house; everything was tidy and in order—no dishes in the sink, the bed made, his mother’s briefcase and laptop and some files on the breakfast bar, a sight he’d grown accustomed to.

He peeked in his dad’s office. It was stripped. The desk dominated the room, there were still books on the shelves, but it was apparent it was no longer in use. He pulled out a couple of built-in file drawers and saw that they had been cleaned out except for those that belonged to Anna—her retirement, her insurance, her bank statements. Everything for Chad McNichol or Chad and Anna seemed to be gone. For the first time he asked himself why his mother’s work files and laptop were still in the kitchen when there was a beautiful office available.

His first thought was, My mom has it all under control. His next thought was, She sure adjusted quickly to Dad being dead.

He sat on the couch and called Jenn. His call went to voice mail. Again. “Hey, Jenn, are we ever going to actually talk? Because I don’t like the way we left things. I’d like to talk about a few things. I think I’m even more messed up than before and maybe this is all a big mistake. I think I have a few things to explain. I don’t think we’re done with this yet. Maybe I was premature and there are things to work out, but if you won’t even take my calls how can we ever work anything out? So, how about you call me back this time? Or maybe text me or something? Or maybe you were just ready to break up and this is this easy way?”

Of course he immediately regretted it. It was entirely his fault and he knew it. He had been panicked, worried that he could never be the kind of awesome family man his dad had been and was afraid to commit. Because what if he had kids who loved and needed him and he died? Who would take care of them then? He wasn’t a PhD and Jenn wasn’t a judge! Money was tight between them. What if he had a couple of adorable little kids, a gorgeous sexy wife and went skiing and bam! Hit a tree!

The chime on his phone rang. He had a text.

You want to talk?
Yes! I know I messed up but I really miss you.
Do you want to come over for dinner? To talk?
Oh, he really did. He texted her back that that would be good and she told him to be at her condo at seven. He arrived early and sat in the parking lot until the appointed time, but when he got to her door, he had lost all his cool. He realized he should have stopped to buy her flowers, but he hadn’t. When she opened the door, he snatched her up in his arms and devoured her with a kiss so hot and hungry there was no time for talking. He was so overcome he could barely get in and close the door.

This was one of the things that ate at him—that they were so right for each other. As he held her face in his hands he was overwhelmed by passion. From the sounds she made, she was just as gone. He could vaguely smell the aroma of something Italian and noticed a long baguette on the counter, but couldn’t stop from hugging her, kissing her, pulling at her clothes and walking her backward toward her bedroom. “God, I missed you...” he mumbled.

“Missed me? Or missed this?” she asked.

“It’s all the same,” he said. “I can’t have this with anyone but you!”

“Michael...” she said in a breath. And she pulled his shirt free of his jeans.

For several blissful minutes they worked at freeing each other from their clothes without ever breaking their kisses, then fell onto the bed and rolled around, filling their hands and mouths with every essence of their bodies. They strained together, wanting each other madly. They whispered of missing each other as they came together frantically, their passion powerful and demanding.

And fast. Bam. He hadn’t waited for her because he’d been so desperate and needy, so he tried to slow down long enough to at least give her some pleasure. Thankfully she was in as bad a state as he was and he felt those spasms he knew so well.

“Ahhh, there you go,” he said very softly, covering her face with tender kisses.

They collapsed in each other’s arms. Her head lay upon his chest and she ran her fingers through the hair on his chest; he loved it when she did that. “I think we managed to last all of five minutes,” he said.

She looked up at him. “I guess you haven’t been seeing anyone else.”

“Of course not,” he said. Then as if he surprised himself, “You haven’t, have you?”

“No, but I was getting ready to. Or put it this way, if you were gone, I wasn’t going to sulk and whimper. I wasn’t going to wait and see if you ever came back.”

“Jenn, I was just screwed up. Depressed, I think. And stupid.”

“And are you back now?”

“I guess. But I’m still messed up and unsure about our future.”

She wrestled free of his embrace and grabbed her T-shirt off the floor and pulled it over her head. She sat on the bed beside him; he was stretched out long and lean, his hands behind his head. He was completely naked and her overlong T-shirt covered her nudity. She sat cross-legged.

“Listen, if we had just been dating casually and you hit this period of confusion and depression and needed a break to figure things out after your dad’s death, I’d just say okay, good luck, and back away quietly. But we were different. We were past all that. We were committed, looking for a larger condo so we could move in together and we were planning to get engaged. We picked out rings and were saving to pay for them. We said we loved each other, that we trusted each other, that we were going to have a family together.”

“That we were taking it slow,” he reminded her.