Man of My Dreams (24 page)

“Let’s start with what you do remember. Can we do that?”

I sit down across from her, stake claim on the mug of piping hot coffee in Grace’s hands and drag it across the table.

“A lot happened last night. I don’t even know where to start. Can you tell me what you know? How you even knew to come here?” I take a sip of the coffee, concentrating on the hang-over-healing aroma. I can’t even look her in the eye.

Through heavy eyelids I see Grace fold her hands and rest them under her chin. She scowls, completely distorting her beautiful face to show her discernment.
Wonderful!
This is going to be worse than any lecture my mother ever gave me. When she starts, her tone is anything but maternal; it’s firm, commanding. She’s pissed. I can’t even look her in the eye. “Imagine my shock when I receive a phone call at two am from none other than Noah Matheson, telling me to come over because you were in bad shape. I had no idea what I would find. I thought he’d taken advantage of you and that I’d have to kill him myself. Turns out that he, at least, is a gentleman and was just worried about you and didn’t want to leave you alone overnight. He called me because he was afraid that your parents would come home early with the kids and everyone would jump to conclusions. Thank God, at least one of you had a half a brain last night.”

I smile, letting out a sigh of relief. It’s all coming back to me now, and I am so glad I didn’t do anything I would regret.

“Wipe off the giddy grin, Mia. Declan called me this morning.”

I bring my hand up to my mouth, suppressing a gasp.

“At first he was on the verge of hysterics and then, after he explained why he was calling me, from freaking
Hong Kong
, he calmed down and became a rational human being. A little too rational if you ask me. He actually used the phrase ‘If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you...blah, blah, blah. What did you do, Mia? Better yet, why did you do it?”

My first instinct is to cry, the hot tears threatening to explode from my weary eyes. This is just too much all at once, especially while fighting a major hangover. But my need to cry quickly turns into a hot-tempered anger. Who the hell is she to meddle like this? To decide what’s right or wrong? I’m a grown woman, and I can make my own decisions now.

“Oh Grace, please, don’t even think about scolding me. You gonna go tell my father now? I know what I did and I’m not sorry. You have no idea what I’ve been going through. I’ve been alone...for months! He cheated on me. He made me doubt everything I was so sure of! He started this whole damn thing and now, because I’m second guessing things,
I’m
the bad guy? No, I won’t listen to you tell me that.” I am in tears. I know that, to her, I probably just sound like a child ranting about wanting to have my way, but this is how I truly feel.

She hands me the paper she’s been holding. The incessant folding and bending has created a million and one little creases. “Well then, here you go. Looks like you got yourself a boyfriend. All your dreams are about to come true.” The sarcasm in her tone could put Chandler freaking Bing to shame.

What is she talking about now?
I stare at the tiny, crinkled note in disbelief.

It’s from Noah.

Mia,

Please call me when you get this. I’ll be worried sick until you do. You were pretty trashed...please don’t hate me for calling your friend, but I didn’t know what else to do. Last night was incredible...my only regret is that it took over ten years to get there. As much as I tried I couldn’t “save the night” and that’s why I have to see you again. I know you’re going through a tough time and I don’t want to make things more complicated, but...just call me.

Love, Noah

I read the letter over and over, at least ten times. It’s a lot to process, but somewhere in the jumble of mixed up conversations from last night I remember talking to Noah about something like this—spending more time together, the future. He wanted to see me again. I agreed. So what do I do now? I’m not exactly in the position to jump into a full-fledged relationship. The idea of dating while still married sounds ridiculous. Wrong.

I turn to Grace, completely confused. “You think I’m nuts, don’t you?”

She shakes her head, springing out of her seat to pace the floor. She yanks the note out of my hand, taking it with her as she refills her coffee mug. “Honestly, Mia. Did you plan this? Did you go to the reunion with intentions of hooking up with Noah to get back at Declan?”

I know it must look that way, but that was never my objective. And the idea that Grace could think that little of me really hurts. “Of course not! I can’t believe you would think that. I don’t know how many times I need to explain it to you...Declan fucked this all up. Not me.

“Sure, things seemed okay for a night or two before he left for the trip, but with all this time to think... Declan was right, there was a disconnection and it happened long before I stepped foot in that reunion. Even if nothing had happened with Noah, I still would have called Declan and told him the same thing. I’m not ready to pretend that all’s forgiven, Grace. It’s not even the cheating that stings the most—it’s that he gave up on us. He did it because I wasn’t fulfilling some type of need...whether it was physical or emotional, who the hell knows, but either way that’s the crime here...that he turned his back on me, his family, and took matters into his own hands without even consulting me.

“Now I’m taking matters into my hands, and it has nothing to do with retaliation. There was something there last night with Noah, something that’s been a long time coming. You of all people should know what this means to me. In high school he was all I could talk about and in my adult life he’s all I dream about. Maybe that’s been a sign all along. Declan did make me very happy once upon a time, but he found a way to turn the fairytale into a nightmare. Maybe I should I have listened to my gut when I felt like running scared on my wedding day. But I didn’t and today, in the here and now, I need to go with my gut and follow through with Noah. I’m can’t ignore it this time, so you can call me crazy, tell me I’m a bitch…but I need to see where this goes.”

I’m breathless from my speech, but I don’t think I could have gotten it out better had I organized and outlined and listed the pros and cons about Noah and Declan. My spontaneous sermon came from the heart and if it can convince me that I’m doing the right thing, it should be enough to convince Grace too.

“Do what you want, Mia. You’re right. I can’t tell you what to do. But this isn’t going to be all peaches and cream, you know? Declan’s okay with it now because he knows he messed up, but you won’t be able to string him along forever while you date another man. And did you even think about Noah? If you’re not careful you are going to make him feel used, especially when you wind up back with your husband—where you belong.”

My head is spinning and it’s not just from the hangover. Grace makes valid points, and my heart is clearly torn between right, wrong and just following what it wants to do. There are so many scenarios to consider it’s not even funny. And in all of them someone gets hurt.

“Grace, I need your support right now. Please, instead of the voice of reason can you just be my best friend?” I plead with her.

She’s always had a knack for getting me out of trouble, but this time I don’t want her help. I want her to shut up and let me do what I need to do. Is that too much to ask?

She places the note on the counter and returns her hands to her side. She closes her eyes, lifting her head up towards the ceiling—perhaps it’s a form of meditation, or a beckoning for some kind of divine guidance. After a deep breath in, she clenches her jaw, relaxes her rigid stance and lets out a long huff of air. When she opens her eyes, her expression has softened. “I will always be your best friend...no matter how much you screw up. And I would never make you go through all of this alone. So even if I think you’re making a mistake, I’ve got your back.”

I rise up from the table and walk over to hug Grace, realizing now that I’m still only in a t-shirt and underwear. Between my lack of clothing and my smeared make-up, I imagine my appearance has painted quite the image.

Grace finally takes in my appearance, shaking her head, but stifling a laugh at the same time. “Look at you. You dirty stay-out. Lindsey Lohan called, she wants her look back.”

“Really funny!” I close my eyes and lift my head to ceiling, taking in a deep breath. “What’s next, Grace?”

“So now you want my opinion?”

We stand shoulder to shoulder, as Grace searches for the right words.

“I can’t believe you’re finally dating Noah Matheson...as a married woman.” Grace’s eyebrows arch all the way up to her hairline as she shakes her head.

“Talk about bad timing.”

I reach behind us and pick up the note, manipulating it with my fingers. I smile when I think about being in his arms, kissing him. Nothing, not even the shame of today, can take away the sparks that flew last night.

Grace interrupts my beautiful daydream. “Wow, I haven’t seen you smile like that in...”

“I know, Grace. I shouldn’t be acting like a giddy teenager, but that’s how I feel.” A pang of guilt and worry overwhelm me. Am I making a colossal mistake?

I reread Noah’s words:
last night was incredible...my only regret is that it took over ten years to get there.
I can’t let another ten years go by living in regret. That’s what got us here in the first place—Declan’s regrets.
Damn Declan, and his goddamn doubts!

I want to blame everything on his mistakes, but that wouldn’t be entirely fair. And if I’m going to be fair to
myself
I have to block Declan out right now. I’m sure I was the furthest thing from his mind when he picked up a random stranger at a bar. Declan and his stranger would have gone their separate ways after their secret rendezvous. At least I have a history with Noah. Then again maybe that’s worse. With Noah, there’s no denying feelings are involved. And the idea of feelings for someone other than my husband is scarier than a Stephen King novel.

Four days, three arguments with Declan, and two bottles of wine later, I am preparing for my first official “date” with Noah.

Declan is still in Hong Kong, and I hate to admit that I feel a little like the mouse getting out to play while the cat is away. But at least this mouse had the decency to inform the cat of her intentions. Doesn’t mean the cat was necessarily happy about it.

After deliberations that could shame the jury in the O.J. Simpson trial, Declan and I have decided that when he gets home he will move out and share custody with me, having the kids every other weekend. We didn’t feel the need to contact a lawyer or draw up a formal agreement. Declan keeps calling it a trial basis. I don’t have the heart to tell him that this may very well be a permanent end. Either way, the ultimate goal is for this to be as amicable as possible. The girls have already gotten used to seeing less of their daddy; we don’t need them asking questions. Especially when neither of us has the answers.

In a matter of hours I’ve changed my mind about all of this at least ten different times. Should I just ignore everything I’m feeling for Noah? Is it stupid to be rushing from one guy to the next? Should I be alone for a while and see where that takes me? The parade of questions is never ending.

But when Noah called and asked me out, I couldn’t say no. I need to know if our connection was due solely to reunion nostalgia or if sparks will fly every time we are together. As much as I’m dying for fireworks, my warring mind won’t object to a dull flop of a date.

A warm rush of shame washes over me as I kiss the girls goodnight and wish them sweet dreams. Neither they nor their babysitter, have any idea that their mother is out playing the field in hopes of finding herself. I hope they never have to endure something this perplexing. I hope I never have to explain it to them either.

All my fears and worries vanish when I hear the sound of Noah’s truck outside the house. Images of him in that truck...sex on wheels is all I can think of. I scurry to the door, telling the babysitter to call me if there’s a problem, and rush outside like a teenager without a care in the world.

His door swings open. He hops out, walks around and opens the passenger side for me again. I wonder if the neighbors are watching. Judging me for taking a ride with this strange man, who isn’t Declan, twice in one week.

Screw ‘em. It’s none of their business.

“Hello, beautiful.” Noah takes my hand, kissing it softly.

“Hi,” I answer shyly.

“We good to go?” He asks, checking me out.

“Yup,” I say without hesitation. If he asks too many questions I might change my mind.

Noah hasn’t told me where he’s taking me, adding to the spontaneity of it all. Our drive to the undisclosed destination is filled with small talk about his job. I’m happy to be focusing on him. Talking about my last four days would be uncomfortable. They were filled with making all sorts of weird arrangements I never thought I’d be faced with—alternate living arrangements for Declan, custody arrangements for the kids. So not first date material.