Before I Ever Met You

Less than a month ago I was calling 911, my blood dripping onto the phone.

Don’t focus on the past, I remind myself while I get in line with the rest of the commuters at the bus stop. Now that I’ve done one week at the new job, survived the commute, survived the awkwardness and pitfalls that come with the territory, I’m starting to feel more free. I try not to berate myself for not doing it earlier, although that guilt remains.

By the time I get back home—yes, I’m finally calling it home, even if it’s just temporary—an hour of commuting and switching buses has gone by and Tyson is running toward me with open arms across the broad sweep of immaculate grass that makes up the front lawn.

“Mummy!” he cries out, a big goofy smile on his face, his bowl-haircut flapping as he runs. I feel every single worry melt away as I scoop him up in my arms, even though it takes a little more effort than normal. I swear he’s gained a few pounds this week, and it’s his grandma’s baking to blame.

“Hey Ty-Ty, how was your day?” I ask him.

“Grandma showed me how to use her magic. Now it’s my magic,” he says excitedly, his blue eyes dancing.

“Is that so?”

“Today Tyson met Taffy,” my mother says to me as she steps out of the front door. I don’t know how she manages to always look so immaculate, whether in the kitchen or flying over fences on a horse. While I got the short curvy body from some long lost relative (and a love of all things beer), she’s tall, skinny elegance. Right now she’s in her jodhpurs, ankle riding boots, a green dress shirt and a cream scarf around her neck. Grace Kelly reincarnated.

“He even sat on him briefly,” she adds, a satisfied smile to her lips. Back when I was a child, I learned on a Welsh pony called Silkie. She was my very own, until I outgrew her. Silkie passed a long time ago, as did my old thoroughbred Ruger, and now my family only has two, my mother’s old warmblood Duke that nearly took her to the Olympics, and her younger horse, Jeopardy. The rest of the horses at our twelve-stall stable are boarders, and one of them happens to be an Icelandic Horse, which is just small enough for Ty to feel comfortable around.

“That’s amazing,” I tell Ty, setting him down on the ground. “See, it’s not so bad to live here, when you get to use your magic on ponies.”

He still doesn’t look all that convinced but at least he grabs my hand as I walk to the house. “I still wish they were dinosaurs. I tried the magic to turn Taffy into a Styracosaurus, but it didn’t work.”

“Well I’m glad it didn’t work, Ty,” I say. “Could you imagine all the damage he would do?”

“Yes! It would be so cool.”

“Thanks for taking care of him,” I tell my mom as I pass her in the doorway. “Next week when he’s in school he won’t be in your hair as much.”

“Are you kidding?” she says, and standing this close to her I’m suddenly hit with that sad realization that she’s getting older. I guess that is what happens when you don’t see your parents for a while. “I’d keep him at home if I could. I have a lot of missed time to make up for with my little man.”

I give her a faint smile. Can’t help the pang of guilt over that.

My mother picks up on it and pinches my cheek like she used to. Chipmunk cheeks, as she once called them, only now I seem to have grown into them a bit. “I’m just so glad you’re both here, honey,” she says warmly. “How does it feel to have finished your first week at work?”

I nearly roll my eyes. “It doesn’t feel like I’m done, considering my boss is coming over for dinner.”

“Right, your boss,” she says as we step inside, heading toward the kitchen. “It’s kind of weird to hear you talk about Will that way.”

“Honestly, it’s been kind of weird.”

“But everything has been working out, right?”

“Well, yeah. Of course. He’s . . . nice.”

Nice. I need to try harder.

My mother is watching me with discerning eyes. “He is very nice. You don’t remember him much from when you were younger, do you?”

“Not really. And it’s probably for the best. I have to keep reminding myself as it is that I’m working for Dad now in a roundabout way. Speaking of, where is he?”

“Your father just got in. Taking a shower.”

“I think I’ll do the same. You’ll keep an eye on Tyson?”

“Of course.”

Earlier on my mother had said the dinner was at seven thirty, which gives me just over an hour to get ready. Even so, I’m taking my time, not wanting to rush. In fact I wish I had brought a bottle of wine to my room, it would really help with my nerves.

I’m not sure if I’m nervous that my boss is coming over, if it’s because it’s the first real family dinner since I’ve been here, or a combination of the two. I feel like I have to impress not only Will but my parents too. Thank god the only person who doesn’t expect anything different from me is Tyson. He’s always on my side.

Until he grows up to be a resentful teenager, but until that happens, he’s definitely my biggest fan.

I decide to make a bit of an effort. I blow dry my hair, so it’s this shiny sheen of light bronze, then do what I can with the little makeup I have. I should probably raid my mother’s bathroom for some contouring powder or something, but that reminds me too much of being a kid. Hell, every moment that I’m here reminds of being a kid.

My wardrobe is another challenge. I’ve worn every single work outfit I’ve got, and the rest of my shit is barely suited for anything other than running around at home after a seven-year old. The only thing I can salvage is the grey pencil skirt I wore on the first day, which desperately needs a wash since a few drops of spilled coffee made their way to the hem, and a simple black tank top.

I eye myself in the mirror, front, back, and side, sucking in my stomach and trying to make myself look as streamlined as possible. Abs in, abs in, I tell myself, like it’s a mantra. Thankfully I should be sitting behind the table for most of this.

Unless my parents seat me next to Will.

Oh god, I hope not.

I don’t know why the idea is freaking me out so much.

But it is.

I take a deep breath in and out, make another mental note to take up yoga, and decide to ask my mother if she has a necklace or earrings or something that I can borrow to liven this outfit up. I step out into the hall and immediately hear Will’s rich, deep voice sounding from the living room.

Ah, shit. How is he here already?

Then I hear my father’s laugh.

Hell. This is going to be a fucking trip.

I take another deep breath and make my way down the hall. With its floor to ceiling windows overlooking the pasture and riding ring, warm décor, and gas fireplace, the living room is one of my favorites, a place where I used to spend a lot of time drinking Dr. Pepper, doing my nails, and staring out the window at the horses.