No Strings Attached (The Pink Bean Series Book 1) (16 page)

“Christ. Yes, boss.” Micky looked her friend in the eyes for a fraction of a second. There was always nothing but good-heartedness to be found in them.

Micky did as she was told, inviting Martha to dinner first, then, her heart beating in her throat, sending a message to Robin saying:
I’m sorry, but I can’t be friends with you. I would always be hoping for more.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It wasn’t Micky’s usual Sunday morning ritual to make French toast for her children, partly because Olivia had been listening to Amber’s anti-sugar rants too much and only reluctantly pecked at her breakfast, and partly because Sunday morning breakfast was never a big deal.

It used to be, pre-divorce. Sunday was the only day of the week that Darren had focused all his attention on his family and he used to be the one to cook them eggs to order, with crispy bacon and bread he had fetched from the bakery on a brisk walk before any of them got up.

After Darren moved out, Micky had attempted to recreate the atmosphere of days past, but no matter how hard she tried, there would always be one person missing from their Sunday morning tableau. No amount of French toast could ever fill that gap.

But this particular Sunday morning, Micky was feeling especially guilty for robbing her children of a constant fatherly presence in their lives, and dipped white bread into a bowl of beaten eggs as though the very act could undo that knot in her stomach.

At the table where Olivia and Christopher were sitting now, a flock of lesbians would gather next week. And only seven short days ago—though it felt more like a lifetime—Micky had brought another woman into this house she shared with her children, and oh the things they had done. Micky straightened her posture and made sure the slice of bread she’d just transferred to the pan didn’t stick. She didn’t want to think of Robin right then. Preferably, she’d never think of Robin again, but her subconscious brain heartily disagreed. Although it did help that Robin had yet to reply to the message Micky sent the day before.

“Voilà.” Micky presented Christopher with his breakfast first, hoping that the look of it would entice Olivia to have some as well. “French toast for my favorite man in the world.”

“Thanks, Mom.” He tucked in immediately, so when Micky asked what they wanted to do that day, his mouth was too full to reply.

“Can’t we just hang out here? We don’t have to do something every Sunday,” Olivia said.

“What did you do last Sunday?” Micky asked casually.

“I told you already. Dad and Lisa took us to see a movie,” Olivia said.

It was true that Micky already knew about this, but she wanted to find out more about Lisa. After all, her accompanying them to the movies was something entirely new to them—seeing their father with a woman who was not their mother.

Micky stopped the dipping of bread into egg and turned to face Olivia. “What’s she like, then?” Micky had held in that particular question since she’d picked up the kids from school last Wednesday. She didn’t want to be
that
kind of mother, but she was dying of curiosity.

“She’s nice,” Christopher said.

“He means she’s hot.” Olivia’s lips were pursed together. They were at an age where they didn’t seem to agree on anything. Olivia in particular made a point of challenging her brother every chance she got. Still, the comments about Lisa being
nice
and
hot
stung Micky on quite a few levels.

“No, I don’t,” Chris snarled.

“At least she doesn’t have any children,” Olivia said, doing what she did best: ignoring her brother.

Micky turned back to the stove and started frying more toast. With her back to her children, her voice barely audible over the sizzle of the pan, she asked, “What was it like? Seeing your dad with someone else?”

“It wasn’t too bad, as long as you’re okay with it, Mom,” Christopher said.

Olivia sighed, and said, “Why must you be
such
a suck-up?”

Micky could vividly imagine how she was rolling her eyes.

When Micky turned back around and presented Olivia with a plate of French toast, Chris held out his phone. “We took a photo at Gigi’s after.”

Micky took the phone in her hand and looked at the picture of her family, of her former life. Her space in the picture was taken up by a tiny woman who looked at least fifteen years younger than her.

“Oh, she’s Asian,” was all she said.

“Can you believe Lisa is thirty-nine, Mom?” Chris asked. There was a note of enthusiasm in his tone that Micky wasn’t too fond of. “It’s because she’s Asian. They always look much younger than they actually are.”

“That’s so racist,” Olivia started.

“What’s racist about that?” Chris replied.

Micky let them bicker while she stared at the picture a little longer. Lisa looked perfectly nice. She had a very photogenic face—okay, she was
hot
. What caused the biggest twinge in Micky’s stomach, though, was the fact that they’d all gone to Gigi’s for ice cream after the movie. They always used to go there as a family.
Before
.

Micky put the phone down. She should be happy that Darren had met someone new, someone who her kids didn’t immediately dislike. This was actually good news, she tried to convince herself.

“Mom, please explain to my idiot brother why what he just said about Lisa is racist.” Olivia’s voice was full of teenage indignation.

“Let it go, darling,” Micky urged. She looked at her children, her beautiful boy and girl, and was overcome with a bout of nostalgia.

“How about you, Mom?” Chris asked. “Have you met someone else yet?” That snapped her right out of it.

Micky didn’t believe in controlling anything physical with the mind, yet she hoped that how she was feverishly wishing not to break out into a telling blush would keep her from doing so.

“No. No, I haven’t,” she said quickly. In that moment, Micky knew she would have to tell her children sooner rather than later. Before she met someone and got serious about her. They were her children; they deserved to know. Yet Micky had no idea how to tell them. She was barely coming to grips with it herself. She would need to tell Darren first, which made her think about how he had inquired about her sexual preference with Amber. Perhaps it wouldn’t come as a surprise to him, but it would to Liv and Chris.

“It was Mom who wanted her independence,” Olivia said. Christ, the girl was on a roll this morning. At least she was eating.

When Micky and Darren had informed the children about their decision to divorce, they had told them what Micky then believed was nothing but the truth. Their mother and father had grown apart. They loved each other but weren’t in love anymore—that old chestnut. It was better for everyone, the children included, if they didn’t live in the same house anymore. Micky had tried to explain it in as gentle terms as possible and had tried to assure them that the pending divorce had nothing to do with them, that it was just a fact of life that, sometimes, it didn’t work out between two people the way they had both hoped.

“It’s not as if we didn’t see it coming.” Christopher was speaking for the both of them—Liv still kind of looked up to him back then.

It was the moment Micky had realized she was doing the right thing and that hurt her the most. She had always believed she and Darren had contained their differences, that their arguments couldn’t be heard outside the closed door of their bedroom, but, of course, she realized then, children always know.

Micky didn’t feel like getting into an argument with her daughter about this right then. Olivia was already on the war path this morning. It was high time for a change of subject, anyway. Micky needed to gather her thoughts, come up with a plan of action to tell her children eventually.

“How about I take you to the movies this afternoon?” she asked. “We’ll go to Gigi’s after.”

✶ ✶ ✶

Micky had let the kids pick the movie, and it had been an unbelievably violent affair with supposed superheroes beating the crap out of everything. Perhaps she was getting too old for some things. Surprisingly, after they exited the theatre, Olivia’s mood had brightened entirely, and she and Chris dissected the action parts of the movie with enthusiastic voices, agreeing on most things. This made Micky care less about the violent—and frankly ridiculous—nature of the film. She was just glad her teenagers were getting along for once.

When they arrived at the ice-cream parlor, while she was contemplating whether she could get away with ordering two scoops—it was Sunday after all—the first person she saw was Darren. Then her glance landed on the woman who was accompanying him. That picture Chris had shown her that morning didn’t do her justice. It was as though some sort of force field radiated from her, the way her skin glowed and her eyes sparkled.

“Dad!” Olivia shouted when she clocked them.

“Hey, guys.” Darren rose and threw his arms around Liv, then gave Chris a pat on the shoulder.

“Micky.” He tensed when he approached Micky and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. They weren’t exactly estranged—just divorced. Still, Micky thought it was funny how things could go in life. Falling in love, getting married, and spending time on that fluffy cloud of love where everything seemed perfect. Having children and going through the subsequent trials and triumphs. Having a life so tied to another person’s, you can’t ever imagine not being with them. Until it’s all you want. “What a surprise. Please, meet Lisa.”

If she didn’t know him better, she would have guessed Darren was gloating—but he really wasn’t the type. He was probably feeling very uncomfortable about having to introduce his ex-wife to his new girlfriend in front of their children.

Lisa had already jumped out of her seat. God, the woman was tiny—petite but beautiful. Perhaps, once the day came that everything was out in the open and she and Darren had reached a space where they could just be friends again, they could compare women. “You picked a very striking one,” Micky imagined herself saying. Inadvertently, she tried to gauge what Darren would think of Robin. The thought just popped into her head, even though it had no business being there. Robin still hadn’t texted back, which was for the best. What did Micky expect? A big love declaration?
Yeah right
.

“So nice to meet you, Micky.” She stretched out her hand. Micky thanked her lucky stars that she wasn’t the hugging type. Micky shook Lisa’s hand and was relieved to find it a bit clammy.

“Do you want to join us?” Darren asked.

“Sure.” Micky could hardly say no. She might as well get this over with.

After they had all ordered their ice cream, sat huddled around a too small table, and had discussed the movies they had seen—the new Woody Allen for Darren and Lisa, though Micky couldn’t for the life of her remember Darren ever saying a word about Woody Allen movies—the first awkward silence descended.

“So you work at Goodwin Stark,” Micky said. Although it was a perfectly acceptable question, asking it had an unmistakable connection to Robin. Perhaps, if the children weren’t there, she would have asked Lisa more about Goodwin Stark’s glamorous new Diversity Manager, but now, she really couldn’t.

“We actually kind of have the same job,” Darren said. He looked into Lisa’s eyes when he said it. Christ, he was smitten. As happy as she could rationally be for him, it was still odd to see her ex-husband mooning over another woman like this.

Lisa explained her job, which did sound a lot like Darren’s, but if Micky was really being honest, she had lost track of Darren’s career a decade ago. All she knew was that twelve-hour days were more normal than not, and that he was very handsomely paid for all the time he spent away from his family. Good for him that he’d found a girlfriend who worked the same hours as he did. And that the children were growing up fast. In fact, she pondered, Darren really was starting over. Something Micky had yet to accomplish. Though she did have a job now. And she’d had her first sexual encounter with a woman. Despite not having actually said the word out loud, not even to Amber, Micky knew she was a lesbian. At least she was no longer in denial about that. That was progress.

“How about you come to dinner at mine next Saturday, Micky?” Darren asked, seemingly out of the blue, though Micky had been zoned out of the conversation. “I could invite Josh and Charlotte. They’ve been asking after you.”

Josh and Charlotte were the one couple they’d known since college that was still together. They hadn’t been Micky and Darren’s best friends as such, but there was a lingering sympathy and concern, and on and off, they had spent a lot of time together over the years.

“I’m sorry. I can’t next Saturday,” Micky said. “I’m throwing my own dinner party.”

“Oh.” Darren sounded a little deflated.

“Who’s coming, Mom?” Olivia asked.

“Your auntie Amber. Kristin, my boss at The Pink Bean, and her wife Sheryl.” Micky conveniently left out Martha. There was no point in telling them about her when they didn’t know who she was.

He didn’t say it out loud, but after what Amber had told her about Darren and the inquiry he had made about Micky, it was as though she could hear him think:
an all-ladies affair, huh?

“How’s Amber?” Darren asked instead.

“She’s still single as well,” Olivia said. Micky couldn’t help but wonder what her daughter meant by that.

“Amber is doing just fine. She hopes to open her own yoga studio soon. She’s going on a month-long retreat to India first, to
deepen her practice
as she puts it,” Micky said.

“She’s a yoga teacher?” Lisa asked.

Micky was surprised Olivia didn’t treat her to a very ironic
Duh
at that obvious question. “Yes.”

“Expert, more like,” Darren said. “Amber doesn’t do things halfheartedly. She’s probably the best teacher in Sydney by now.”

“I would love to try out one of her classes some time. My favorite teacher at my current studio left, and it just hasn’t been the same since,” Lisa said.

Lisa could want to do yoga all she wanted. She could even take Amber’s classes, but Micky would make damn sure she didn’t end up on the mat next to her tiny, probably ridiculously flexible body. She looked as though she could bend her legs all the way around her neck without exerting any effort.