Chapter 11
Eleven
After he left Annie’s house that night, his words echoed for days.
We both love being around.
Miles didn’t know what had prompted him to say it. It felt like a confession, one he wasn’t prepared to admit even to himself.
It had snuck up on him. Never in the fourteen years since Madeline’s passing had he felt the sort of stir in his chest that he felt now.
When Annie smiled at him, or laughed at one of his jokes, or by God, just looked at him, the emotions rose so quickly they threatened to spin into a tornado.
He’d never lived in tornado country. He didn’t have a safe room. He’d never even seen the movie Twister. He was completely unprepared for handling a tornado, and thus walked right into it like an oaf.
It was true that he loved fixing things. He’d done so much to his own house that he was running out of projects. Plus, when he was at Annie’s place, he got to see Bella in action. Why not fix a few windows to get more of that?
If he was being forced to reflect on his out-of-the-blue declaration, that wasn’t what made him love being around.
The truth was, it was simply nice at Annie’s house. Even though the house was small and overflowing with toys, it was warm. Full of life. Full of love. He and Bella had a happy home, but it wasn’t as exciting as Annie’s. He missed the energy young kids brought – chaos, yes, but so much fun.
There was mystery, too. Every time he saw Annie’s mouth curving in a half smile, he had to know what she was thinking. He needed to know her story. Why had she taken her mom in – or why had her mom taken her in? How did she end up a single mother? What were her hopes, her dreams?
For some inexplicable reason, his mind kept inventing an image of the two of them staying up late at night, confessing even more to each other.
Bella still had emails flooding in with women telling their life stories – framing themselves as victims or heroes – but the only one Miles wanted to know about was Annie.
The day after having dinner together, he texted her and thanked her for the recipe.
Getting her number was a brilliant move. He couldn’t stop patting himself on the back for it. Yeah, he’d make the recipe, but now he could talk to her at any time.
She didn’t write back until after eight. He told himself she didn’t have time before that; it was when the twins went to sleep.
“I’m so glad you liked it,” she wrote. “I’m happy to share other recipes I’ve accumulated over the years, especially the kid-friendly ones. Though I’m sure Bella has a more complex palate than Leon and Noel.”
“You might be surprised.”
He paused. How to do this without being awkward? He wanted to spend more time with her. He had to know more about her. But he couldn’t very well invite himself over unless…
“I wanted to ask – when is a good time for me to come back and fix up those things your mom mentioned?”
He hit send, and within seconds, she was typing a response, the three dots bouncing on his screen.
But then, she stopped.
Typed again.
Stopped.
She was thinking. Perhaps about his entire obvious scheme. Perhaps debating how to politely tell him to buzz off.
His heart rate picked up.
When her response came in, he jumped to read it. “That’s kind of you, but don’t feel obligated to fix anything. My mom is just… a mom.”
He grinned, the glow of the phone illuminating his face. “I know. I get it, but I’d really like to help. You’ve been great with Bella, and she’s been so happy. I insist.” He paused. Might as well go for it. “I have Monday off. How is nine?”
The dots appeared again. Miles held his breath.
“Well...if you really insist, I have a research day and I’ll be working from home. It might be easier with the twins at daycare.”
“Yes!” he whispered, then wrote back. “Great! See you then.”
He didn’t tell Bella what he’d be up to. She was going to be at school, and he didn’t need to explain himself. Most of all, he didn’t need her to ask questions.
He arrived on Annie’s doorstep with an enormous bag of tools and knocked.
“Maintenance is back,” he said when Annie opened the door.
“Finally. I’ve been waiting all day!”
She was dressed in a soft-looking white sweater and a pair of loose, light-colored jeans. Her hair was in a ponytail, wisps being blown loose by the wind.
He grinned at her, and there it was – that smile.
His chest constricted. Miles lowered his eyes as he walked in.
“Can I offer you something to drink? Tea or coffee?”
He set his tool bag down. “Tea would be great.”
She nodded, disappearing into the kitchen. “You’ll be happy to know my mom isn’t here to torment you again. She volunteers at the library on Mondays.” Annie re-entered the room. “I wanted to apologize about her asking about…well, you know, the thing.”
His eyebrows shot up. “What thing?”
She let out a sigh. “You know… the dating ad.”
“Oh!” A laugh burst out of him. “That was nothing. I’m getting it much worse at work. Every time I open a drawer, or look in the fridge, a copy of Bella’s fine work stares back at me.”
Annie scrunched her nose. “That’s rough.”
“It is. My own fault, though. I can’t even blame Bella.”
Annie looked at him, her expression placid, and the tornado winds picked up. He couldn’t stop himself from talking. Rambling really.
“Two years ago, Bella got on this kick. She wanted me to start dating, and now she’s escalated. She says I have to get married and get her a new mom.”
Annie’s eyes widened. “That’s a big ask.”
“It is. I told her she has a mom.”
“Is she still involved in your lives?”
Miles shook his head. “She passed away shortly after Bella was born.”
Annie’s expression fell. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“It’s okay. It was a long time ago,” he lied.
He always said that. He didn’t want to make people feel bad, but to him, it had just happened. In his dreams, he saw the blinding lights of the OR, the chill in the air, the bleeding they couldn’t stop.
“I’m sure this is just some sort of passing teenage whim,” he added. “I made it clear that I won’t be remarrying or dating until she’s out of the house – or never, to be honest.”
There. That should do it. Even if he couldn’t convince himself that these feelings were meaningless, he could at least try to convince Annie that his intentions here were purely janitorial.
Annie laughed. “I hear you on that. I’ve just gone through a divorce myself, and I can’t imagine doing any of it again.” She stopped. “I mean, of course, what you went through is much worse. I’m not trying to compare – ”
He held up a hand. “I didn’t take it that way.”
The tea kettle went off, and she disappeared again, leaving Miles to grapple with the sinking feeling in his chest.
The winds had died down. A divorce. She’d never do it again.
Talk about a clear message.
Then again, if he didn’t want to date or marry again, why was he so disappointed she didn’t want to, either?