Nobody’s Perfect

Chapter 29

Between a late night of editing and all the usual air travel shenanigans, I was exhausted by the time I drove the hour home from the Atlanta airport on Monday afternoon. My reward was a home empty except for an irritated cat.

And the odor of rotten potatoes.

Well, hello to you, too, I said when Lucky yowled in indignation. Where s Grandma?

Lucky slow-blinked her one eye as if to say, First of all, she s not my grandmother. Second of all, I wouldn t tell you if I knew .

A quick search of the house produced a note on the kitchen table:

Vivian,

I had to run back to Florida for the weekend to meet with my lawyer and pick up some things. I ll be back Monday night at the latest. I left Suja in charge of the cat.

Mom

P.S. I left you a voicemail, but you must ve been busy when I called.

Okay, then.

I checked my phone. One message from Mom that I d somehow missed, but nothing new from Abi or Rachel. The remaining voicemail was from my lawyer s secretary reminding me about tomorrow afternoon s appointment. Lord, I hoped I wasn t paying extra for these reminders.

A quick inspection of the house showed that Mitch had found the potatoes and simply put them in the kitchen trash. Oh, and he d trailed their noxious juice across the living room and into the kitchen.

Apparently, Mom had taken off for Florida in such a hurry that she didn t think to take out the trash. Or Mitch had done his dirty work after she d left.

I suppose it was fair that I would have to clean up the mess. At least it was my own mess this time.

Since I irrationally felt alone, I didn t even mind when Lucky rubbed around me the whole time I was cleaning. Finally I double-bagged the trash and took it outside before pulling up all the blinds and opening all the windows.

Maybe Mom was onto something with her note. Now that I was home, I couldn t imagine speaking to Parker face-to-face. I d just have to put everything into a note.

Dear Parker,

I m so sorry about everything that happened. I didn t mean to say your name to Alavita, and I certainly wouldn t have put you in any of my videos if I d thought people would invade your privacy. Also . . . I miss your friendship. I know this snow globe isn t much, but I wanted you to know I was thinking of you.

Viv

P.S. It s probably the closest you re going to get to snow this winter.

Ah, nothing said I m sorry like a cheap souvenir. I would ve talked myself out of giving it to him, but I had the eyeshadow for Cassidy. Something told me he d find the snow globe amusing.

Next, I scrawled a quick note to Cassidy:

Cassidy,

I got this eyeshadow palette and thought of you. I hope you like it. I m sorry your Instagram got wild and that your dad got unwanted attention. I think you re a cool kid.

Vivian

Before I could talk myself out of it, I crossed the yard to my neighbor s house, and then I left their gifts on the porch before ringing the doorbell and running away like a loon.

Why?

I didn t know.

Maybe I was afraid to disappoint yet another human being after what had happened with Abi and Rachel. Maybe I particularly didn t want to make Parker any madder. Maybe I was just tired and afraid I smelled like rotten potatoes, even though I was pretty sure the scent was just stuck in my nose.

Finally, I sank down on the couch with an old-fashioned-it had to be five o clock somewhere-and checked my phone.

Nothing.

I d dozed off when the doorbell rang.

A quick glance in the peephole, and I saw . . . Parker.

Hey, he said, shuffling on the other side of the glass door. Thanks for our gifts.

You re welcome.

He was waiting for me to ask him in. Did I want to ask him in?

Come on in if you re not afraid of the smell, I said, surprising myself.

Smell? He stepped into the foyer, not quite sure what to do with himself. I could see the moment the lingering scent of the potatoes hit him. Uh, what is that?

Rotten potatoes.

Do I want to know?

Probably not, but I ll tell you anyway. They were part of my campaign to convince Mitch to live somewhere that is else. Unfortunately, he found them and dragged them across the house. Karma, I guess.

I waited for fear or disgust to mar his features, but he kept his expression neutral as he processed that information, finally shrugging with an Okay then.

Want an old-fashioned? I asked. I already have the stuff out.

Sure, he said, his shoulders relaxing.

I gestured toward the couch and went to make another drink.

When I came back, he was sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward slightly as though he needed to be ready for escape at all times.

I handed him his drink. He took a sip. This is quite good.

I used the quality bourbon, I said as I leaned back into the couch on the side opposite from him. No need for me to be uncomfortable in my own house.

But I was.

He was just so handsome, and a part of me, in spite of past protestations of feminism and independence, was so afraid I would die alone with my cat. Not only would Lucky not go for help, but I couldn t trust her not to eat me before help arrived.

Note to self: Add cremation request to will because cat can t be trusted to leave your body in a state suitable for visitation.

As if summoned, Lucky jumped up into my lap with a tiny chirp.

Oh, hi, cat, Parker said, leaning back a little.

You re not allergic, are you? I asked.

No, just never been much of a cat person before.

I tried to get Lucky to sit in my lap, but she sashayed over to Parker s lap instead because . . . cat.

What s his name?

Her name is Lucky.

He chuckled, a low rumble. And she s missing an eye?

I shrugged. She s lucky I have a weakness for one-eyed cats.

We sat in silence for what felt like eons but had to have been a minute at most. He stroked the cat with his free hand, and she started to purr.

So, he said.

So, I answered.

I guess you re wondering why I m over here.

Kinda.

I could be reasonably sure that he d accepted my apology by virtue of his presence. Maybe. Hopefully.

Finally, he spoke. I wanted to apologize, too. For losing my temper last week.

Wait. What? Was this a man on my couch apologizing to me? For the second time in a month? What was this strange new world?

Thank you, I said. And I really am sorry for my part. I m not used to getting much attention to my videos.

No, seriously. You were right. You did ask, and I did have my contact information on LinkedIn. Must ve forgotten all about it in the stress of the move.

Oh.

Thing is . . . He paused to take a sip of his drink. When I said I didn t want to date, I was only telling half the truth.

Oh? Confusion washed over me. What did this have to do with anything?

I, well, I d really like to date you.

I sucked in a breath, but I felt lightheaded nonetheless. Me?

He put his drink down on the coffee table. I know. It s inappropriate and too soon-

It s not that. It s-

You re the first person I ve even thought about like that since Claire, that s my wife -he paused, and a split-second of anguish flashed in his eyes- since she died so suddenly. I promised myself that I would never again hold on to words I d regret not saying. You are just . . . Oh God. Now I ve made things hopelessly weird. I ll go.

He shifted Lucky to the couch-gently-and started to stand, but I put my hand on his arm. No, wait.

You re not . . . ? He left the sentence unfinished, and I couldn t tell what he wanted to add to his question: offended, incredulous, angry?

I m just surprised.

Surprised? Why? he asked as he sat back down.

Well, because I m me.

That s not an answer.

It s like the banana bread I made the other day.

He tilted his head to one side, and I just knew he had to be reconsidering everything he d previously said because I d brought banana bread into the conversation for no discernible reason. But there was nothing to do now but plow forward. When Mitch left me, I looked at these bananas at the end of the counter. They were bruised and blackened and dried up. I thought to myself, I am those bananas.

Vivian!

But then I pulled myself together, determined to make banana bread, but when it came out of the oven, my son had the misfortune of discovering I d used the salt instead of the sugar. I feel like that bread, ruined and unwanted, like I ve wasted a good deal of my life.

Somehow the space between us on the couch had dissolved. He reached over to place a hand on my cheek. You are none of those things.

I don t even know where to start, I said. I haven t dated since I was in college. Heck, I ve been married over half my life. Who the heck wants a woman whose best years are behind her?

Behind you?

Parker, the world doesn t look twice at a woman who s over forty.

His eyes locked with mine, and I shivered at the intensity of his gaze. I m looking.

After an eternity, he leaned forward to kiss me. My breath caught in my throat. My heart hammered at an unprecedented rate. He stopped just short of my lips and whispered, May I?

I melted. I d been kissed a few times in my life, but never once had I been asked first. Words eluded me, so I nodded.

His kiss surprised me, so tender it caused a flutter in my pulse. I leaned in, but then-it didn t feel right. It didn t feel familiar.

I broke away, touching my fingers to my traitorous lips. Objectively, it was a good kiss. My whole body thrummed in ways it hadn t thrummed in a very long time, but the kiss also wasn t Mitch.

Vivian?

I held up a hand to put a pause to our proceedings. For just another second or two.

Mitch, thin lips, hard kisses, demanding kisses.

Parker, full lips, gentle kisses, inquiring kisses.

I didn t mean to-

I surprised myself by putting my arms around his neck and drawing his lips back to mine. One of my hands ran through his thick hair. His large hand warmed the small of my back and drew me close. I could tell that he didn t find me repulsive. The problem was I didn t find him repulsive, either.

Our kiss deepened into frantic nipping. He kissed along my jaw, lightly biting my earlobe and causing me to moan.

His thumb grazed my nipple, and I gasped, but it also brought me back to my senses.

Like it or not, I was still a married woman.

I stood up, my chest heaving and my lips deliciously swollen.

Parker looked at me and then looked away, as if embarrassed he d let his emotions get the best of him. I, uh . . . I m sorry about that.

Please don t be, I said. Could we possibly put a pin in this moment, maybe revisit it when my divorce is final?

His grin took my breath away, his beautiful whiskey-colored eyes glowing with hunger. Absolutely.

A full-body chill went through me along with a horrible realization. Unless you were pity kissing me.

Pity? He stood and moved toward me. I didn t back away. I m insulted that you think it was pity. Vivian, you re a gorgeous, talented woman.

I blushed. I m a boring, flabby-

Parker put a finger to my lips. Shh, don t talk about my beautiful friend Vivian like that.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I kissed his finger.

I m going to go now, he said. But someday I d like to kiss you more thoroughly.

Oh? There s more thorough than that?

Then I d better let you go now, because I m needy enough to want you to do that.

He gave me another kiss, a slow, chaste meeting of the lips. You re not needy, Vivian. You re a proud, independent woman.

How I wished.

And I ll understand if you meet someone in the meantime. Really, I will, I lied.

His eyes met mine. I suspect you re the kind of woman a man should wait for.

My stomach did a somersault. I don t understand what you see in me.

You are beautiful and funny and kind-

I snorted.

Okay. Rotten potatoes aside, you are kind. How about you weren t afraid to help a father who didn t know how to hem a dress or a young woman who was freaked out by her period or a friend get lice out of her hair.

You know about that?

Suja told Cassidy.

Ah.

You take the time you need.

Something about the patience of a man could make a woman want to rush forward.

But I didn t.

I wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with Parker on the couch and see where the night might take us. Instead, I took him by the hand and led him to the foyer.

One for the road? I asked.

He flashed that devastating grin again and drew me into his arms. He paused just a second, letting the anticipation and attraction crackle between us. I don t know how long we d been kissing when my mom walked through the door.