We are all looking for a place in life, somewhere we fit. It’s not a place that changes who we are or what we do – perhaps it shapes us, makes us better, makes us more – but mostly it shelters us with a sense of peace, a sense that whatever we do, wherever we are, we’re not alone in it.
Samantha Young,Into the Deep
Girlfriends, I decided, were great. Fantastic, even. Besides Leah, my experience with female friendships consisted of two faced, catty wenches. These women were the opposite. They were accepting, genuinely wanting my opinion. I enjoyed myself so much, I was a little disappointed they only got together once a month.
“It was a real treat to have you here with us, Polly,” Rose said at her door. Leah and I were the last ones to leave.
“I had the best time. I can hardly wait for the next book club,” I answered honestly.
Leah was standing behind Rose and flashed me a smirk that was so smug, I could practically hear it aloud.
“Say! We’re getting’ together for Eliza’s fourteenth anniversary of her twenty-fifth birthday next Saturday. You should come! The more the merrier!”
I glanced between Rose and Leah. “I can check to see if Jace can watch the kids. What book are you reading?”
“No book. We’re taking a class at a fitness studio in town.” Leah’s voice sounded guarded.
Rose reached out and clasped my hands. “You’llloveStripped. Suzie’s the best. We’re gonna go to the Donner Bakery after for breakfast.”
“What’s Stripped?”
“It’s a fitness studio downtown that teaches everything from senior aerobics to pole dancin’! Eliza signed us all up for the Intro to Chair Dancin’ class. I’ll bet it’s a snap to have you join us.” Rose snapped to emphasize her point, beaming at me. “Please say you’ll come! It’s gonna be a scream and a holler!”
Rose was looking at me like an endearing rainbow on steroids, which made it impossible to refuse her.
“Of course, I’ll come,” I said, side-eying Leah, who looked to be biting back a smile.
As I drove home from Leah’s later that afternoon, instead of listening to an audiobook, I settled for peace and quiet. The lush greens of the trees against the bright blue sky were saturated with color this late in July. For so long, it felt as if I’d been in a haze, like a fog had settled over my life and I was following the path of least resistance that had been laid out for me.
Now, for the first time, I was forging my own path. I was making real friends. I had something exciting I was working on in my career. And I was getting to know Jace. A gentle heat stirred low in my belly as I thought of him the night before, his breath on my neck, his hand in mine as he pointed out fireflies in the yard. A tangible ache spread through me as I thought of the hug we shared. How good it felt to be pressed up against his firm body. How even when he was sitting on the stairs, wiping my tears, yes, I felt embarrassed, but it was strangely freeing. Having someone with me when I was at a low point, offering me comfort and a helping hand without conditions or judgment. It was strange to think of how much my life had changed in a week. Like the wind shifted and the fog lifted when Jace waltzed into our lives, fitting in seamlessly, like he was the new and improved Mr. Mary Poppins.
Maybe that was why, this morning, when I got an email from a childcare company asking me if I was still interested in finding after school care for my kids this fall . . . I promptly ignored it.
* * *
The kids and Jace were swimming when I got home from book club.
Jace was standing thigh deep in the shallow end, snorkel mask and arm floaties on, and for all intents and purposes, looking completely ridiculous. I couldn’t keep my eyes from tracking the water droplets that rolled down his olive toned skin. A situation was brewing inside my body that I could only describe as a cat in heat: my pulse started to race, I was sweating, and I’m pretty sure I breathed out in a manner that was both a sigh and a groan.
His arms were spread wide, palms facing out. His snorkel bobbled when he whipped his head back and forth between his two attackers: Ryla, lifejacket and goggles on, stood on the pool stairs, her Nerf water blaster trained on Jace, and Max, standing waist high in the shallow end, also carrying a water blaster, had Jace directly in his sights.
Jace’s plea was muffled by his snorkel. “Now, now, you two wouldn’t gang up on poor, old Jace like this, would you?”
“Don’t listen to him, Max! That’s how they get you!” my daughter shouted, ostensibly the four-star general of this operation.
“Ryla? Maybe we shouldn’t . . .” my sweet pacifist son protested, causing Jace to swing his head toward him.
But that was Jace’s mistake. You don’t turn your back on an assassin.
As Jace’s head swung to Max, Ryla yelled, “Fire!” unleashing her full payload. Water hit Jace full-on in his face, chest, and back as he flopped in the water.
“What is going on out here?” I shouted in mock consternation, walking down the patio stairs.
“Mom! You’re home!” Ryla shouted. “We’re protecting the crystal! He’s trying to get it from us!” She pointed to the presumed crystal, a.k.a. an aqua-blue pool noodle sitting by her feet on the edge of the pool stairs. “We can’t let the evil sorcerer get it, he’s gonna use it to steal all the chocolate in the whole world!”
Her head whipped to Jace, who’d taken advantage of Ryla’s distraction to launch himself up and out of the water in exaggerated play-acting movements. Jace was only a few feet away from the “crystal” now, but Ryla was closer. Grabbing it, she looked to me and shouted, “Mommy! Catch!”
And then she launched it like a freaking javelin right over the middle of the pool.
