A Lady Under Siege

40

“How do you like my new look?” Derek called over the fence. He had cleaned himself up. It was the first time Meghan had seen him in a shirt with a collar. His face was free of stubble, and his hair still damp, combed back off his forehead. “I don’t know how Thomas combs his hair,” he said.

“He lets if fall forward, in bangs. Actually I like this better.”

“Me too. Hey, would you like a cup of coffee? I’m inviting you over, like neighbours used to do before people had iPhones but no time.”

IN HIS LIVING ROOM he said, “You’ll notice I cleaned up around here.”

“You straightened it,” she corrected him. “It’s tidier, but I wouldn’t say cleaner.”

“What I really need is a maid. A servant. I’d love to just snap my fingers and say, ‘Get us some drinks, would you?’ ‘Make it so,’ like Jean-Luc Picard.”

She followed him into the kitchen. “I have some bad news,” she said. “Betsy has decided to run a temperature, so I had to keep her home from school. So yet again I can’t stay long.”

“Depends how you define long. She should be fine for a couple of hours. A lot can be accomplished in a couple of hours.”

“By her or us?”

“By her, of course. We’re just going to fritter it away, getting to know each other.”

While he made coffee she vented about her daughter. “She lost her iPad, and her dad immediately bought her a new one, over my objections. He’s trying to buy her approval, I suppose—we’re not even legally separated and already he’s the classic Disney Dad. Every time he shows up he’s got some expensive new bauble under his arm. She’s in bed with her iPad as we speak. I had to sneak away. I suspect she’s actually a bit jealous of us. She wants you all to herself.”

“I could come over and keep vigil at her bedside.”

“Not necessary. She’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think I have a cup that’s not chipped.”

“You know, I’ve never actually sat in a neighbour’s house and had a cup of coffee like this,” Meghan smiled. “My mom used to, all the time, when I was a kid. She was the classic stay-at-home small-town mom—her kitchen was her kingdom, and her girlfriends would just drop by unannounced. Her life was so much more casual—now everything’s timed to the minute. I’m already feeling guilty about leaving Betsy. Not to mention the work I have. No matter where I am, I feel like I need to be somewhere else.”

“I don’t have that problem. I’ve pretty much retreated from that life.”

“But what have you replaced it with?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Are you happy?”

“Let me put it this way. I see lots of people who are really unhappy, and I’m glad I’m not them.”

“But are you happy?”

“Sometimes. Are you?”

“Not often, lately.”

“Should we even be aiming for happy all the time? It takes such effort. Look Meghan, for whatever reason, fate has thrown us together, and I find you very attractive. I’ve let you know that. I told you I’m along for the ride—if you want to use me to reach Thomas, to fulfill some kind of romantic quest you’ve got going, well, I’m happy to be part of the expedition. Whatever your motivations, I’m into it. I can help you out.”

His cell phone rang in the living room. He went to retrieve it, and held it out to her when he came back. “I think you can guess who.”

“How does she have your number?”

“The day she cut her hand, I gave it to her. After I’d bandaged her up. Just in case.”

Meghan took the phone. “Yes my love.”

“What are you doing over there?” her daughter asked peevishly.

“None of your business, actually.”

“You’re supposed to be taking care of me.”

“I do take care of you, 24/7. I was just on my coffee break.”

“Come home.”

“I’m coming. Give me a minute!”

She snapped the phone shut and handed it to Derek. “Someone’s jealous,” she said.

“Tell her it’s platonic.”

“Is it?”

“Platonic with the potential to be more,” he amended. “I need to start working on my wooing.” His lip curled into a slight grin. “How’s Thomas doing with his?”

“Good, actually. I think he’s winning her over. But every time she gets ready to let herself be won, she remembers her husband, and what he made her promise. Whether it’s her personality, or the times she lives in, she thinks differently from me. It’s almost like she lacks free will. She can’t accept she has a choice. But he’s become such a gentleman—he’s so patient with her. You’re being patient with me too.”

“What else can I do? Unlike your Thomas, who had to learn to behave himself, I live in the age of consent.”

“I think I’m ready to give it.”

“Great. Good.” He smiled broadly “Let’s do it.”

“Not now!” she laughed. “Not with Betsy waiting for me. It would be all tense, and furtive.”

“Furtive is good,” he laughed. “Furtive is like sneaky, and illicit, and generally makes things more intense.”

“You’re not a mom, obviously. Sneaky and illicit are fine when you’re a kid hiding something from the parents, but when you’re a parent hiding from the kids, it crosses over to being just plain sordid and weird.”

“I think you should stop talking and kiss me now.”

“All right. I will.”

“Then do it.”

She leaned forward and kissed him experimentally. His lips met hers hungrily, but a feeling startled her, and made her push him back so she could see his eyes. Thomas was there, she was certain.

“It’s like there’s two of you,” she said.

“Is that good or bad?”

“It’s good. It’s okay.”

His phone rang again. He checked the number without answering. “The brat,” he smiled.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Meghan sighed. “Tell her I’m on my way.”