PosterBoyForAverage (11 page)

“Did you ever go out with Mr. Mike next door?” Laura asked,
spearing a single cucumber from her salad and chomping it with way more vigor
than any ten-year-old should.

Aubrey almost choked on her mouthful—large mouthful—of
lasagna. “I…what?” she squeaked.

“Well, I figured at some point you and Mr. Mike would go
out.” She said it matter-of-factly as she found another cucumber and captured
it.

“Why?” Bradlee asked, leaning in. It made Aubrey feel
better. At least this wasn’t something her sister had cooked up with her niece.

“Because he looks at Aunt Aub the same way Sammie Ann Flynn
looks at Matthew Johnson in school.” Laura shrugged and snagged a piece of sausage
out of the gooey cheese on her lasagna. Aubrey had noticed she liked to
deconstruct her food as she ate it.

“And how is that?” Aubrey asked.

“Like this.” Laura pulled a face that left the adults
snickering.

“That looks like a sick cow,” Aubrey said.

Laura shrugged again. “Well, that’s the look. I know because
I’ve tried it in the mirror. And that’s how Mr. Mike was looking at you at the
cookout when you weren’t paying attention.”

“And how did he look when I was paying attention?”

Laura rearranged her face into a semblance of calm
normality. “Like this, I guess.”

“Good to know.” Aubrey caught Bradlee watching her and
decided to try to keep Laura as close to her as she could. If her sister got
her alone…

“So no date yet?” Laura finally ate a big bite of lasagna.

Maybe Laura wasn’t so safe after all.

“Yeah, no date yet?” Bradlee chuckled, turning to face her
sister.

Aubrey sighed and took another big bite of her dinner. She
pointed. “Sorry. Mouth full.”

Bradlee rolled her eyes. They ate for a few more minutes and
Aubrey realized her plate was nearly clean. It had been ages since she’d had a
home-cooked meal. Even longer, she thought, since she’d
prepared
a real
home-cooked meal.

Laura told them about the volcanoes they’d made in science
class, the caterpillar she’d found at the bus stop and her friend Brenda’s
dog’s litter of puppies. Then she made her own sick-cow face and Bradlee
laughed. “Good try, kiddo. Go get dessert.”

“But they’re so cute and small and free…”

“Puppies are never really free. Now go!” Bradlee said with
no real heat.

“Fine, fine,” Laura said as if her mother were sending her
off to clean the litter box instead of get her dessert.

Aubrey hid her face behind her hand. “My God. She is growing
up,” she said, trying not to laugh.

“Don’t I know it. Lord. By the time Timothy gets back she’ll
be about thirty. At least emotionally. So tell me, before she gets back, what
happened? I know something did.”

“We…he…”Aubrey shook her head. She found it hurt to talk
about it, to even think about it. Not because he’d told her they weren’t going
to work, but because he put it upon her to apparently discover he wasn’t worth
it. While she still thought he was. “He came home late. I asked him in for
wine.”

“But you didn’t have wine?”

Aubrey bit her lip. Remembering. “Eventually.”

“But first you had Mike?”

She sighed. Finally she nodded. “Yes. More than once.” Then
she laughed.

“And it was…” Bradlee stared her down. Her blue eyes almost
exactly the same shade as Aubrey’s.

“Amazing. There was this connection I don’t think I’ve ever
felt.” Aubrey put her head in her hands and groaned.

“And that is bad?” Bradlee asked, tapping her on the head
the way their mother used to when they were being silly.

“Yes, it’s bad! I sound like a goddamn Hallmark card!”

“So?”

“So, I sound so…” She shook her head. “Oozy and flowery and
girly.”

“You are a girl.”

“I’m a manly girl!” she said.

Bradlee looked surprised. Surprised enough that it made
Aubrey laugh. She mumbled, “You know what I mean. I’m not a girly-girl. I’m a
realist. I’m logical.”

“Love has shit to do with logic,” Bradlee said, tapping her
head again.

“Who the hell said anything about love?” Aubrey hissed.

“Here we go. Dessert.
Voila
,” Laura said. Only she
said it like “Viola”. Aubrey smiled, despite the big bowl of what really did
look like dirt. Her niece gave out bowls and she dug in, serving her mother,
herself and then her aunt.

“And what is…” Aubrey pulled out a gummy worm.

“Worms! In your dirt!” Laura said.

“Of course,” she said softly.

Bradlee leaned in. “If you’re going to date a man with kids
you have to adjust to the occasional gummy worm in your dessert.”

“I’m not dat—” But she stopped talking, shook her head. She
remembered how she’d felt the night before. She remembered how she’d felt
seeing him with his boys. How she felt when she was with him.

She stopped arguing and ate the damn worm.

* * * * *

“Sure you can’t stay?”

“Slumber party!” Laura yelled from behind her mother.

“I’m sure,” Aubrey laughed. God, how she loved these two
crazy females.

“I don’t mind. Another body in the house would make me
happy.”

Aubrey grabbed Bradlee and hugged her. “He’ll be home soon,”
she said softly. It was very easy, considering how flawlessly her sister
handled all things—even the absence of her husband—to forget Bradlee was alone.

“I know,” Bradlee said, going a little rigid in her arms.
“He will be.”

“Now I’m going to go home and gaze hopelessly at my next-door
neighbor’s house.”

Bradlee pulled back, gasping. “You are not!”

Aubrey laughed. “True. I am not. No worries. I’m only joking.
I probably won’t see him for ages.”

Aubrey unlocked her car and waved to Bradlee, who finally
went in and shut the door.

“Dinner?”

The voice startled her so badly she dropped her keys and
turned around, fists up.

“Whoa, sorry. I should never have scared you that way,” Mike
said, raising his hands in the air to show he was harmless.

Aubrey expelled a huge breath. “Jesus. Do you make a habit
of scaring the bejesus out of women?”

“Only the beautiful ones.” Mike laughed. But there was a
tinge of sadness under his laughter. Remembering this morning as she was,
perhaps? “And what is bejesus anyway?”

“I have no idea,” Aubrey said, still rubbing her chest above
her heart. “But you scared it right out of me. What are you doing here,
anyway?”

“Stalking you,” he said, his face straight, his voice low.

She shook her head and he caved, grinning.

“Actually, Joshua’s best friend lives two doors down. I had
no idea that your sister even lived here.”

“She hasn’t for long.”

“And I don’t drop Josh off usually. His mother does. But
Patrick, his friend…” he shrugged. “I’m rambling.”

“No, you’re fine.” She wanted to touch him. She wanted it
badly. Instead, Aubrey pushed her hands into the pockets of her green pants and
clenched them into fists.

“Patrick’s mom invited him to come spend the night even
though it’s a school night. It’s stressful when Chuck ends up in the hospital.
It’s hard on everyone. This way, he can get up with his best friend in the
morning and go with him to school. It will make it easier.”

It clicked in her mind then.
He’s protecting you.

The problem was, she didn’t need protecting. If she did,
she’d say so. Still, it twisted in Aubrey’s heart, the realization that he
wasn’t pushing her away. He was shielding her.

“That’s really nice of her,” Aubrey said.

“Josh can be hard though.” Mike scuffed the tip of his
running shoe against the curb. “He wants to be around for everything. Even the
hard stuff.”

Click again
. She almost heard it click inside her
head. And that was Mike. Mike was having a very hard time not being there for
Chuck. Even for the bad stuff. Did he feel guilty because when his son was
having a panic attack, he’d just been climbing out of bed with Aubrey?

Never underestimate the power of guilt.

“I think when you’re a stand-up guy…kid,” she amended, “it’s
hard not to want to stand by people even for the hard stuff.”

He nodded.

“Dad, what are you doing?” Joshua was in the doorway,
another boy about the same age stood behind him.

“Talking to my neighbor. You remember Aubrey?”

Aubrey waved even though her stomach clenched a little at “neighbor”,
even though that’s what she was. “Hi, Joshua.”

“Hi, Miss Aubrey!” Then he ducked inside.

“Just Aubrey is fine,” she said, but it was only to Mike
because his son was already off with his friend.

“He’s been taught manners.” Mike chuckled. “Let him use
them.”

It was her turn to nod. “I guess I should be going,” she
said. “My sister is going to notice I’m still here and then we’ll both be
screwed.” She felt herself blushing at her choice of words. “You know what I
mean.”

“Yes. She seems easily intrigued.”

“That’s the understatement of the year,” Aubrey said.

“I hope you’re not angry with me.” He said it fast, as if he
were ripping off a bandage.

“I’m not angry. I was confused. Maybe a little less now.”

“Am I that transparent?” He smiled at her. She noticed that
even in the streetlights the smile didn’t touch his eyes.

“Not transparent. But I can be smart when I try. I think I
figured out a few things.”

“Yeah? Like I prefer going commando to wearing drawers?” He
leaned against his truck and the way he moved his body, the way he smiled, she
wanted to drag him into that vehicle and fuck him until his brain leaked out
his ears.

“Not quite what I was talking about. But now I know that
too.” She stubbed the toe of her shoe against the concrete. “Off I go!”

Aubrey hated the way she sounded. Awkward, robotic, nervous.
She also hated that she’d just said “Off I go!” like some kind of deranged
lunatic. She didn’t say that or any other silly saying that made her sound like
Mary Poppins. But here she was rolling of a nervous exclamation of her
departure.

“I’m sorry, Aubrey,” Mike said.

Her throat closed up. She heard it click when she swallowed.
“What? Why? What for?”

“I can tell you can’t wait to get away. I can tell what I said
this morning hurt you. Or pissed you off. Or something. And I wasn’t saying
that we have no chance, I was just saying that you might want to think ab—”

She couldn’t. Could not stand here a moment longer. Her eyes
were pricking with tears and no matter how many times she blinked, her vision
was starting to double. And the thought of fucking crying—crying in front of
him!—was too horrible to even entertain.

“I’m fine. I’m totally fine. It’s no big deal,” she said,
waving a hand at him. “But I really do have to go. Batman’s waiting for me. Who
needs men when you have your own furry superhero, right?”

Then she sobbed a little at her own words. What kind of
asshole said stuff like that? What kind of moron let her pain out and waved it
in someone’s face?

Her. She was that kind of asshole.

Before he could say anything, she turned and threw herself
into her car. Hopefully he had somewhere to be. Hopefully he wasn’t going home,
for God’s sake.

Aubrey parked in her driveway and watched his headlights
pull up in front of his house.

“God damn it,” she muttered. She found her bag, turned off
the car, made sure the lights were off and got out. “Just go in the house. Just
go in the house.” She reminded herself that she was putting space between them.
That was clearly what he wanted and what she should do. For her own sanity.

“Aubrey!”

She stopped, her feet growing so still she could have been
part of the concrete walkway.
Go, go, go…
But she didn’t go. She stood.
And if she stood there, she was either going to get angry at him—it was her
default emotion when she didn’t know what to do—or she was going to be hurt.
She didn’t want to be either.

He caught up to her and she turned fast, trying to gain the
advantage. “How’s Chuck?”

“Sleeping,” Mike said. He reached out for her, thought
better of it, dropped his hands by his side.

“Good. That’s good.”

“It was a panic attack, just like I thought. But Angela gets
so…” He shrugged. “Which is completely understandable. But we drove him into
his GP and he evaluated Chuck and he’s hanging tough. He gave us a very mild
anti-anxiety med to give him. But Chuck hates meds more than vegetables so he
took it once. Hence the sleep. And I guarantee that’ll be it. No more meds for
Chuck.”

Aubrey nodded. “That’s sort of how I feel about meds. I…”
She shrugged.

Then his hands did find her. Slid up her back, cupped her
shoulder, squeezed warmly. “I’m sorry I have you all twisted up in knots.”

“Me? I’m fine. But Bruce is in there doing the pee-pee dance,
most likely.”

He let her go. “Sorry. Go tend to Batman.” He grinned when
he said it and she felt her heart do that dip-and-bob thing again.

“I will. I’m glad…I’m glad that Chuck is okay and I’m glad
you were able to be there.”

Just don’t follow me. If you follow me, I’ll crumble like
a sand castle in high tide. Don’t…

“I’ll always be there,” he said.

Did he think it was a warning? Or just a statement?

“Of course,” Aubrey said. Saved by the dog. From inside she
heard a small, needy bark. “Gotta go. There’s a superhero who has to tinkle.”

He laughed, caught her wrist and pulled her to him. Where
his fingers circled her skin, it warmed. When his mouth touched hers, she
warmed. She wanted to turn and throw herself into the kiss. Wrap her arms
around him. Give in to her urge to be with him and tell him that it could all
work if he’d just stop worrying. If he’d not worry about her so damn much. But
that was his nature, wasn’t it?

It was, in fact, what made him so compelling to her. His
heart.

* * * * *

Bruce had gone out and done his business with such speed it
made her laugh. “Kept you waiting a bit too long, did I?”

His company—after that of her sister and Laura—made the ache
to be around Mike that much worse. He was right next door. He was home. And
he’d kissed her. She could still taste that kiss on her lips. She could still
feel it.

She shucked her clothes in the middle of her room, tossing
them toward the dirty clothes hamper. Aubrey felt as if the bed were haunted.
The ghosts of them together there in her sheets. Which was stupid, really.
Considering the man had only spent one night with her.

With some men, one night is all you need to know it’s
real.

The thought hit her like a left hook to the cheek. It stung
her to realize that it was the truth. She threw on a Ravens jersey as a
nightshirt—three sizes too big thanks to the fact that Laura had picked it out—and
dialed Bradlee.

“How long?” she blurted when her sister rang. She sat cross-legged
on her bed, staring out into the dark night.

“How long what? How long did you stand outside and talk to
that man?”

“Not now,” she sighed. She could tell Bradlee had been
smiling and now she could tell the smile had fled.

“How long what, Aubrey?”

“How long before you knew that you and Timothy were the real
deal? That you…” She trailed off, picking at a loose thread on her winter
quilt.

“Loved him?”

“Maybe.”

“People roll their eyes at me, but I knew the first time he
kissed me.” Bradlee laughed and Aubrey could hear the love in that sound. It
made her envious. It made her chest hurt. “People say love that fast isn’t
real, or they say it doesn’t last.”

“I know.”

“But I tell them to look at my kid and look at my face when
he’s away. My kid is proof it does work. My face is usually not my normal face
until he returns. Then, when he’s back, it returns to my true face. My heart
bounces back. I’m Bradlee again.”

“Because?” She asked the question, but she already knew.

“Because when he gets back I’m whole again. Timothy is part
of me now. I’ll be the first to tell you not to question your feelings. The
only thing you need to worry about is, does Mike feel the same as you? Based on
what I saw tonight, peeping out my window like a pervert, I’d lay money that he
does.”

“Thanks, Brad,” Aubrey said. She sprawled on the bed,
considering just going to bed even though it was barely eight o’clock.

“What are you going to do?” Bradlee asked, all the humor
gone from her voice.

“Nothing. There’s nothing I can do right now. It’s really up
to him. What good is me feeling what I feel for him if he keeps pushing me away?”

“If it means anything, I think it’s because he’s concerned
for you.”

“It does and it doesn’t. I guess I just wanted to make sure
I wasn’t crazy. For how I feel.”

“Nope. Your heart knows what’s going on,” she said. “Even
when your brain gets confused.”

“Good to know.”

“You okay? You want to come back over?” Bradlee was wary.
When Bradlee was wary, Aubrey knew she was being maudlin.

She forced some happy into her voice. “Nope. I’m fine now
that I’ve conferred with you, oh wise one. I think I have a hot cup of tea in
my future and maybe an early bedtime. I’m done with this day.”

“I believe it.”

They hung up and Aubrey stared out at the harvest moon. The
dim glow of her nightlight did little to keep her awake. Before long, she was
dozing. She dimly remembered turning on her side, pushing her face into the
pillow that smelled of handsome, sexy man and pulling the coverlet over her
body. For a while, she slept.

* * * * *

Midnight.
That’s what the clock said when she heard
Bruce whining wistfully downstairs. She figured he had to go out.

“Coming,” Aubrey sighed. Her mouth tasted like death. She
made a quick detour into the bathroom and swished with mouthwash. “Better,” she
said to her reflection. She touched her hair, done up in two loose braids,
figuring nothing could be done for that just now.

More whining. His desperate I’m-not-kidding-lady whines.
“Coming!” she said a bit louder.

It was her own damn fault. Bruce usually went out for his
final bathroom break around ten or eleven. She’d dozed off at eight and had
apparently slept hard. Like a rock. Like the dead.

Downstairs, she simply stared at her crazy dog. He was not
standing by the back door for the sunroom, which led out to the deck. Nope. He
was planted before the front door, wagging his tale and whining.

Which he only did when the person on the other side was
someone he knew. Strangers, he barked. Known folks, he sat and whined until she
let them in.

“Hello?” she said loud enough—she hoped—to be heard through
the front door and the screen. Or had she locked the screen door? She couldn’t
remember.

The hair on her arms stood up and her nipples grew tight and
hot inside her jersey. She wasn’t sure if she was excited or scared. Maybe
both.

A deep sigh. It was audible to her in the total silence of
her house. Usually she had music playing or the TV going or even talk radio on.
Right now the only sounds were her breathing, the swish-swish-swish of Bruce’s
wagging tail on the hardwood floor, the tick of the clock and then, barely
audible, “Aubrey?”

She’d known it would be him. She’d known it would be his
voice she heard, but it still warmed her as if she were sitting beneath the
bright summer sun.

“Yes?”

“Can you open the door?”

She stayed frozen where she was. Her heart pounding. Her
body on high alert. “Maybe.”

“Did I wake you?”

She shuffled a step forward, wanting to rush forward and let
him in, but afraid of what would happen if she did. Not to her body—she knew
what would happen in that respect if she let him in—but inside her. The part of
her that was hurt he was keeping her at arm’s length. Whether she understood it
or not.

“A little. Mostly Bruce woke me.”

“I came to say I can’t stop thinking about you. Despite my
own warnings to you, it’s me who can’t keep my shit together. Or my distance.”

Aubrey moved a bit closer to the door. Her hands were
shaking. Her heart pounded. She licked her lips and watched Bruce wag his tail
to the point where he nearly tipped himself over.

She unlocked the door, but left the chain on. “I can’t stop
thinking of you either,” she whispered.

He reached through the gap, his hand above the security
chain, and stroked her cheek. The touch made her shiver. What was keeping her
from opening the door and letting him in? Pride?

Possibly.

“You don’t have to let me in. I wanted to say that maybe I’m
an asshole.”

That made her laugh. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

His thumb ran slowly along her lower lip and it took
everything in Aubrey not to stick her tongue out and lick it.

“I would. I think I’m pushing you away so very hard, Aubrey,
because all I really want, to be honest, is to pull you close. You know you’re
pretty fucking intense.”

She cocked her head and he took her braid in his hand and
tugged gently. She felt the resounding tug between her legs in the wet warmth
that was just begging to be filled by Mike.

She took a shuddery breath. “Me, intense?” A bark of
laughter slipped out of her. “Are you serious?
I’m
intense?”

In her mind it kept echoing.
All I really want, to be
honest, is to pull you close…

“Okay, so
I
can be intense.” He sighed. Settled in
the open part of the door. She was starting to feel stupid for not opening it
and letting him in, but Mike never questioned her or asked for her to do so.
“My ex hates me right now. She makes it clear daily. My son is ill, sometimes
seriously so. He’s scared often, clingy always. Who wouldn’t be, right? And he
must be the most important thing in my life right now. He deserves that.”

She nodded along with his words and said, “I understand
that, Mike. Why would I think any different?”

“I’ve dated before.”

“Congratulations. Me too.”

He laughed at her snarky remark. “What I mean is, the few
women I’ve dated before now have been okay with it at first. Then…not so much.”

“So you assume that’s me too?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not really. I think you just might
be the one who’s not that way.”

“So you push me away, warn me off and build a giant electric
fence around yourself?” she asked, leaning against the door jamb. “So to speak.”

“Yes.” When her eyebrows went up he hurried on. “And no.”

“Okay, explain the
and no
part.”

“You’re the only one I care about hating me for the chaos in
my life.”

“So you push me away.”

“I don’t want you to feel second to anything. Because you
never leave my head. Just around a week since I’ve known you, and you’ve put
down major roots in my gray matter.”

“So you push me away,” she repeated.

“I’m not pushing you away,” he said. Shaking his head.
Groaning softly. “I’m…”

“Protecting me?” she asked, sighing.

“I guess. That’s the best way to put it.”

“I can’t let you in,” she said, making up her mind.

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“No.” He touched her cheek again and then slowly withdrew
his hand.

“Me neither,” Aubrey said. “But I think this is me protecting
me.”

“I get it.”

“That makes one of us. And while you’re here, Mike?”

“Yeah?” In the low light of a single living-room lamp, his
blue eyes were sad.

“I get what you thought you were doing, but if you really
knew me—what family and loved ones mean to me—you wouldn’t feel the need to
push me away. There would be no need to protect me. I get that connection. I
honor it.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry, Aubrey. We’ll talk soon?”

“We will. Sure.”

Shutting that door instead of flinging it open and letting
him in was one of the hardest things Aubrey had ever done. It hurt.