Hard Choices (15 page)

As he walked back to our table, Molly tried to stand up and called drunkenly, “That’s my big brother!” Robert put his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back into her seat, exchanging a knowing look and a smile with J.J. Molly and J.J. may not live together, but I suspected he’d be spending the night at her house tonight.

“All right, folks,” Alan stood up. “Some of us have to work tomorrow,” he looked pointedly at Molly, who still had a few days before she had to get back into school to prep for the new school year. “And we need our beauty sleep. Lyssa,” he raised his eyebrows at me, “Do you still need a ride home?”

I grabbed my purse and stood up. “Yeah! I had a couple of drinks, I cannot drive – “  

“I can take you home,” Matthew said quietly, standing next to me.

“Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to – “ I said immediately, thoroughly flustered.

“Could you, Matthew?” said Alan, cutting me off. “That’d be great. We’re going the other direction.”

That was true, but my house was only five minutes out of their way. I looked at Alan, imploring him silently. I didn’t know this guy from Adam, and I was decidedly impaired. I didn’t want a stranger driving me home.

“Thanks, Matthew. Lyssa, I’ll see you tomorrow. If you’re a little late,” he smirked at me, “I’ll understand.” He and Alan headed out the door.

With Robert’s tacit encouragement, I got the message: “You’re safe with this friend of mine.” Neither Alan nor Robert would ever put me in a car with a serial killer.

“All right, J.J.,” slurred Molly, “take me home and ravage me. Or hold my head over the toilet. Dealer’s choice.” J.J. rolled his eyes at us as he gathered up Molly’s purse. They said their goodbyes and J.J. guided her out the door.

“Shall we?” said Matthew.

“How long have you known Robert?” I said a little sharply.

Matthew looked a little taken aback at my sudden change in tone. Then my situation seemed to dawn on him. “I’m sorry, Lyssa,” he said sincerely. “I’m a complete stranger to you. It was inappropriate for me to offer to take you home. I apologize. You are absolutely right to be wary,” he shook his head, “Alan and Robert just handed you off to me. We didn’t even ask you,” he looked terribly uncomfortable. “I can’t believe I already screwed up,” he said softly. “How about I call you a cab?”

In our little town, I knew it’d be a while before a cab showed up. As I debated whether or not I wanted to wait twenty or thirty minutes for a ride, I considered Matthew. One thing I had always taught Becca was to trust her instincts. My “independent woman” sensibility was insulted that three men had decided something for me without consulting me. But my “is he all right?” internal alarm was actually kind of humming, and I knew I wasn’t that drunk. Even if I hadn’t been in this situation for more than twenty years, I realized that Matthew actually made me feel… safe.

“No,” I said, still crisply but not as sharply. “I’d rather not wait for a cab. So, I’ll take a ride home. But you will not walk me to my door, and I will
not
invite you in for coffee, is that clear?”

“Very clear, and more than fair,” he hesitated like he expected me to start out, but I just looked at him, eyebrows raised. I wasn’t going to walk in front of him. I felt too exposed. He did make me feel safe, but his interest was unsettling.

These weren’t my most flattering cargo shorts. I didn’t want him staring at my ass. I smirked a little at my own admission to myself as Matthew walked out in front of me.

He looked back at me, and flashed that smile again, clearly relieved the mood had lightened. It was exactly the way Robert Redford had smiled at the camera in that scene from
The Natural
, and it made me catch my breath. Again. Holy crap, he was gorgeous. I was suddenly very, very glad I’d been so harsh.
Way to set good boundaries, Lyssa!
I silently congratulated myself.
Besides
, I remembered,
my clothes are still on the floor where I tossed them this afternoon, right before Aaron fucked my brains out.
I felt a sudden rush of heat at the memory – but I was picturing Matthew instead of Aaron. Already. Oh my god, when had I become such a shameless slut?!

We walked out into the parking lot, with Matthew keeping his distance. He pointed out his car as he clicked the locks on his key fob.

“Uh, ordinarily, I’d open a woman’s door…” he said uncertainly.

I said, “I got it. Don’t worry,” and I opened the passenger door to his BMW SUV and hopped in.

He got in on his side and asked, “Where to?”

I gave him directions, and tried really, really hard not to sneak glances at his right bicep straining against his black t-shirt. Damn. Seriously, Scott must be the only guy in town who never picked up a weight.

Finally, the silence got to me. “So you work out a lot?” I blurted out.
Nice,
Lyssa,
I internally rolled my eyes at myself,
very smooth
.

He looked sideways at me and grinned. “Uh, yeah,” he kind of laughed. “I did the Ironman in June,” he said, shrugging.

Holy SHIT!
I thought. The Coeur d’Alene Ironman was one of those grueling triathlons that went on all day: two-mile swim, hundred-and-something-mile bike ride, and you got to finish up with a full marathon. Sounded like oodles of fun to me. “Wow,” I managed to squeak out, “That’s… that’s impressive.”

Matthew shrugged again. “It was on my bucket list. Now it’s crossed off.
Never
again,
” he laughed. “I like triathlons, but that one was just insane. I’ll stick to the ones that end in a 10K, from now one,” he said emphatically. “What about you?”

“Me? Never had any desire. I don’t really like swimming,” I explained.

“No, I mean, you… obviously work out, too,” he said, sounding a little embarrassed. So he had been checking me out – really checking me out.

“Oh. Well, I run. Do a little yoga,” I shrugged nonchalantly, “Ran a marathon last fall,” I said quietly. Suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a big accomplishment.

“Wow, really? That’s fantastic! Good for you!” he sounded genuinely impressed, not like he was throwing me a bone. “You sing, run marathons, run Robert’s firm,” he said pulling up to a red light, and looking over at me admiringly. “What
can’t
you do?” I wasn’t sure if he meant that sexually or not, but his gaze was so intense, I felt the need to pour a little cold water on myself, figuratively.

“Keep a marriage together. I couldn’t do that,” I said sarcastically, tearing my eyes away and looking forward again. “Green light,” I said gesturing. It was such a blatant declaration of my singlehood, I was a little ashamed of myself. But only a little.

“Me neither,” he said, pulling through the intersection. “Been divorced… let’s see… Audrey’s twenty-four, so I’ve been divorced twenty years now.”

“Whoa! Really? I was married twenty-two years. Been divorced since March.”

“Oh my god, Lyssa, I’m so sorry,” he said sincerely.

“Don’t be. I’m not. We were way too young when we got together, and we let it drag out way too long. My kids are grown and gone, so there was no need to pretend any more. It was all very amicable.”

“Good for you,” he said emphatically, “I wish I could say that. I raised Audrey after Amanda ran off to ‘find herself.’ She’s seen her some summers, usually every Thanksgiving,” he shook his head. “Thank god my mom was around. She moved in with us after Amanda left. She really raised Audrey while I was busy working way too many hours. Which house is it?” I didn’t even realize we’d pulled onto my street.

“Third one on the left there,” I pointed.

He pulled up in front and put the car in park, but left it running. “Honestly,” he continued, “I was glad I got every single weekend with Audrey. I worked too much, but never on weekends. I was the weird one in our start-up for that. But I was the only one with a kid that early on.”

“Start up? Here in town?”

“No, over in Seattle. After about ten years, I’d had all the fun I could stand. I retired, mostly, and my mom, Audrey and I moved to Port Orchard when she was about seven. I’ve had my summer place over here for years, and I’m going to live here full-time now. Amanda has flitted in and out of Audrey’s life since she left. She’s not even reliable about answering her emails or texts.”

“I cannot imagine that,” I said shaking my head, “nothing could have gotten me away from my children. Nothing. I know this is judgmental, but I do not understand parents who can just walk away from their kids. Our marriage really ended years ago, but at least Scott stuck it out until the last one had flown the coop,” I sighed. “And me. I stuck it out, too. I can at least say that.”

“Was it that bad?” Matthew asked, genuinely interested as he turned off his ignition. This was a topic Aaron and I had never discussed. In our three-month affair, seeing each other almost every day, we had never talked about this. How could we? He’d have absolutely no frame of reference for it.

“No,” I said honestly, “it wasn’t bad. It was… it was nothing. It’s like it petered out. I think the turning point was after I finished college. I sort of moved on, grew up, but Scott was happy in his job, happy not challenging himself. By the time I’d finished school, we’d developed separate relationships with the kids. I’d spent three years busting my ass, spending way too much time, probably, on studying and schoolwork. He was so accommodating, so willing to get them out of the house so I could study. I’d forgotten about that,” I said wonderingly. “I don’t think I ever gave him enough credit, really.” I sat straighter and stared out the window for a minute, remembering the best parts of my marriage. “Ultimately, though, we just grew into very, very different people. Well,
I
grew. I guess… he didn’t. He’s the same man he was when I married him. Maybe it wasn’t very fair of me to hold that against him, come to think of it,” I said guiltily.

“So you ended it?” Matthew asked quietly.

“No, actually,” I looked up at Matthew, smiling bemusedly. “
He
walked out, if you can believe it! Our youngest graduated from high school last year, and a month later he went off to the Coast Guard. Right after the holidays, last January, Scott sprung it on me: he was in love with another woman,” I shrugged. “I wasn’t even mad, which was weird. I just… didn’t care. I read somewhere that the true death knell of a relationship is indifference. Apathy. We had definitely reached that point. I mean, Scott did not want to intentionally hurt me; he’s not cruel. We just really didn’t care whether each other was happy anymore, you know?”

Matthew was quiet for a minute. “When Amanda left, it was like a sucker punch. I walked around for about six months feeling like I’d had the wind knocked out of me.”

I didn’t know what to say. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Matthew.”

“It was a long time ago,” he took a deep breath.

“Why didn’t you ever remarry?” I asked. “I know I’m being nosy, but… well, while we’re spilling secrets here…”

He laughed and ran his hands through his hair. “I came close once. But I just needed to focus on Audrey. I couldn’t do that to her, you know? She had two stable parent figures in her life – me and my mom. I couldn’t ask her to adjust to another adult telling her what to do. She was about twelve at that point. It seemed like a recipe for failure,” he shook his head. “After my almost-engagement ended, I never introduced anyone else to Audrey. I told women flat-out, I wasn’t interested in anything serious. I had a great relationship like that that lasted for more than six years.”

“What happened?”

He shrugged. “She hit the point where she was ready to get married and have kids. And she did. She married a great guy. We’re all still friends.”

“Wow,” I said, surprised, “That’s very… progressive of you.”

He laughed. “I loved her. I still love her. But I wasn’t
in
love with her. Nor was she with me. She was focused on her career, too – which she gave up to be a stay-at-home mom. I’d thought she’d go nuts, but she’s happy.”

“I can understand that – just wanting something easy for a relationship,” I said thoughtfully.

“I’m kind of past that now,” he said quietly, “not wanting anything serious.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “Really? It sounds great. No commitments, no ties, no obligations…”

“Obligations aren’t always a bad thing.”

I shrugged. “I spent twenty-two years feeling obligated. I guess I’m still enjoying my freedom,” I said hoping we’d steered clear of that iceberg. “Maybe in
another
twenty-two years, I’ll be ready for a commitment again!”

He looked at me searchingly, and I felt trapped in those warm, green pools; I couldn’t look away. “Well, it’s late,” I said suddenly. “I have to get to work tomorrow,” I said, opening the car door. “Thank you for the ride, Matthew, and for being such a gentleman.”

“But I’m not even walking you to your door.”

“No, but you listened to me and respected my wishes,” I said as I climbed out, “that, sir,
is
being a gentleman. Have a good night, Matthew. Goodbye,” I closed the door gently. I felt like that “goodbye” had been so final, but this guy honestly scared the hell out of me. He was gorgeous, respectful, smart… and way too good a listener – and he was tired of screwing around and wanted to settle down. I needed to run in the other direction as fast as humanly possible.