Chapter Nine Mo
Chapter Nine
Mo
Mo took a closer look at the bar stock he’d been working. The piece that would become the blade of the blacksmith’s knife was warped. It looked like a novice had made it. If he had to chuck this one and start from scratch, it would be the second piece of stock he’d wasted that evening.
Maybe I need a break.
He set the stock aside and left his hammer on the anvil. His palms were sticky and uncomfortable, so he wiped them down the sides of his jeans before opening the mini fridge he kept in the corner of his workshop. He grabbed a can of sparkling water and drank for a long time, long enough to finish more than half of it. He’d intended to clear his mind by working on a project that evening, but it kept shifting to another subject: his kiss with Jess.
That memory kept pushing out all his other thoughts. It bounced him around between disbelief, happiness, and guilt. The happiness part nearly overwhelmed him at times. He usually hid from too much happiness unless it was related to Maddie, trying to tamp it down so it didn’t create expectations or become so strong that his hands shook or his heart beat too fast. The disbelief made him wonder if he’d dreamed the whole thing. He had a lot of trouble with the guilt. Because he didn’t understand where it was coming from.
It’s okay to like someone, to be attracted to them. To kiss them.
He tossed the empty can in the recycling bin. He started to return to his project but gave himself another moment to lean against the old tool chest he’d placed against the wall. Even with its wear and tear, it was still sturdy enough to support him. He crossed his arms, closed his eyes, and sighed, letting his head fall back.
He hadn’t been attracted to anyone in years. It was normal to feel out of sorts. Mo knew that he felt out of sorts more than other people; that was what had essentially led to his divorce. Diana had tried to be supportive of the way that he managed his sensitivity, but his need to withdraw from the world led to her feeling smothered when she tried to live the same way. After that, he’d slipped easily into withdrawing from women, though it hadn’t been an active choice. It made sense that he would feel anxious or off-kilter when intrigued by someone for the first time in years.
Shouldn’t feel like I’m in middle school again, though.
He felt like he was going insane. The period of time between his full realization of his crush on Jess and his choice to act on it by kissing her had been so short. Minuscule. For him, at least in the past, he would have ruminated on a crush for weeks at a minimum. He’d talk himself out of the possibility that it could be requited, shutting down completely in the presence of the woman because his shyness and anxiety were short-circuiting his brain and making his body jittery. There was something about Jess that pushed him through all those crippling overwhelming feelings and made him act without ruminating. Was it her inquisitiveness? Her determination? Her dark, piercing gaze and rich flowing hair, or that comforting vanilla fragrance he’d noticed recently but hadn’t connected to Jess until she was sitting in his truck?
At least she didn’t seem to notice me sniffing the air like a maniac so I could feast on it.
It had likely been a combination of all those traits that made him take a chance without worrying as much as he had in the past. Maybe he shouldn’t compare the present and the past, even if doing so might help him feel steadier about the present. He pushed off the chest and returned to his task. Sliding a third bar stock off the bottom shelf, he placed it in the forge to start warming up.
Novelty shouldn’t provoke guilt. If anything, it should pique curiosity. But maybe it would be wiser not to follow that particular feeling. It loaded him up with too much shaky energy. He pulled the glowing bar stock out of the flames and returned to his anvil. Hammer raised, he put his thoughts aside and started over. Things were going well until his mind replayed Jess’s reaction to the kiss. Her soft moan and her hand on his chest. He brought his hammer down too hard on a part of the stock he’d unintentionally pushed past the edge of the anvil. The piece bent, giving what should have become the blade a bend of about eighty degrees. He stopped, stood up straight, and examined it.
I need help.
But from who? He hadn’t thought this much about a woman—noticing the way she moved, the fact that she stood up for him with others and even stood up to him when she said she wouldn’t listen to him calling himself weird—since the earliest days with Diana. Now here he was, so distracted that he couldn’t do a simple task that he’d done countless times. He put the stock and his hammer down on the anvil and flicked off the forge blower. After rubbing both hands on his jeans again, he pulled out his phone. This was about a woman, about relationships, so Khalil came to mind first. But Khalil was too excitable, like a puppy. There was Rachid, more analytical. But Rachid had always been in a committed relationship to his studies, then his career. Karim was shy, like Mo was, but he was doing well with Isadora. Maybe he would be a better choice. Amir was too young, still learning himself. Mo groaned. He was making things too complicated.
He checked the time. If he hurried…
—
The chime rang out as Mo walked through the door at the Original Fade barbershop. Darius, Khalil’s business partner, was brushing off his chair.
“Mo!” he said when he looked up. “It’s good to see you.” He reached out, and Mo shook his hand.
“Good to see you, too, Darius,” he said. He was glad the shake had been brief because his hands felt clammy. Darius cocked his head to the side.
“?’Lil didn’t mention you were coming by,” Darius said. “Isn’t your appointment usually on Thursdays?”
Mo cleared his throat.
“Yeah, uh—”
Khalil popped his head through the doorframe leading to the break room, an eyebrow arched.
“Let me call you back…um, tomorrow,” he said to the person on the other end of the corded phone in his hand as he disappeared. Mo looked back at Darius.
“I…had some time. I hoped Khalil could squeeze me in before you closed,” he said.
“Course, Mo,” Darius said. “Why don’t you get comfortable in his chair?”
Mo nodded and sat down. Darius returned to brushing his own chair, and Mo took a deep breath, looking around Khalil’s station, which he already knew by heart.
“Hey, bro,” Khalil said, joining them. Mo caught Darius and Khalil exchanging a quick glance.
“Hey,” Mo said.
“You know what, Dare?” Khalil said as he draped a cape over Mo. “Why don’t you head out early. I got the shop tonight.”
“You s—” Darius stopped when he made eye contact with Khalil again and nodded. “Thanks, man; I appreciate it.” He returned the brush to its place on his station, hustled to grab a bag out of the back, and waved goodbye.
“Bye, Darius,” Mo called out as he left.
Khalil went over to lock the door and strolled back to his station. He picked up his clippers and looked at them before returning them to their place. He leaned against the station, crossing his arms.
“Spill it,” he said.
Mo frowned.
“Spill what?”
Khalil frowned back.
“One, it’s Tuesday,” he said. “At this time of day, you’re either between your forge and your anvil, or you’re home doing something with your plants. Two—”
“How do you know what I do on…Right. Maddie.”
“Exactly,” Khalil said. “And two, you never, ever change your barbering schedule. The last time I even hinted at it, you acted like I was trying to kill you.”
“That sounds a little dramatic,” Mo said. Khalil tilted his head to the side.
“Grouchy eldest brother can’t be dramatic?” he asked.
Mo squinted at him. Khalil wasn’t wrong about his resistance to change in his schedule. And he needed Khalil’s help. No point in dragging his feet. He sighed.
“I kissed someone,” he said.
Khalil’s face broke into a smile, and his energy nearly bowled Mo over.
“Dude!” he said. “Are you serious?” He pushed off the station and knocked into Mo for a hug. Mo couldn’t hug back with the cape on.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his cheeks heating. Khalil straightened up, grabbed a stool from somewhere behind them, and sat next to Mo.
“That’s awesome,” he said, his grin a mile wide. “It’s Jess, isn’t it?”
Mo remembered the uncomfortable conversation at their parents’ house. He frowned again, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Yes,” he grumbled.
“Excellent! I knew it,” he said, elbowing Mo. “I knew she wasn’t just a friend or fellow committee member.”
Mo didn’t like that.
“She was…is just a friend. Why would you think something different?”
Khalil chuckled.
“You brought her up,” he said. “And Rachid was right—if you think her advice is good enough to listen to and share, she’s gotta mean something to you.”
Mo chewed that over for a moment.
“You make it sound like I never take anyone’s advice,” he said.
“Uh…you don’t. You’re usually the giver, not the taker.”
Mo wasn’t sure that was fair.
“It’s part of your charm,” Khalil said. “You automatically know better than any of us.”
Mo frowned again. Especially since he was there hoping Khalil could help him. Khalil leaned back a little, assessing him.
“Why do you look grumpy about this? Oh. Did she not kiss you back?”
“She did. But I feel guilty.”
He was grateful that Khalil’s expression had shifted to concern.
“Why would you feel guilty?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Mo said. “It’s…I feel…uncomfortable and guilty.” He looked off to the side. “Not sure why,” he grumbled.
“Okay. Let’s look at it,” Khalil said. “Did you kiss her at a bad time? Like, was she having a difficult moment, or do you think you took advantage of her having her guard down?”
Mo rolled his lips.
“I’d be surprised if she ever lets her guard down. But I haven’t known her very long, maybe I’m not reading—”
Waving a hand in the air, Khalil cut him off.
“If that’s your takeaway, it’s the truth. My whole life, you’ve never been wrong about someone’s character,” he said.
“Oh,” Mo said, not suppressing his smirk. “So you can admit that I’m always right.”
“About people, jerk,” Khalil said, rolling his eyes. “So she never lets her guard down, but she was cool about you kissing her. I know that didn’t come out of nowhere. What was the shift? How did you go from…colleagues to make-out partners?”
Mo narrowed his eyes and explained. About her quickly understanding that he was too empathetic, not angry. About how she’d forbidden him from calling himself weird, and about how she’d taken up for him about “performing” and making things to sell, emphasizing that the others were asking too much of him, something they’d never noticed even though they’d known him much longer.
Khalil’s eyebrows had nearly migrated to the top of his forehead.
“She really likes you,” he said, grinning again and nodding.
“Why do you say that?”
“Man, I love you, but you’re clueless,” Khalil said.
Mo grunted.
“She’s figured you out.”
Mo grunted again because he wasn’t sure what that meant.
“At a bare minimum, she’s concerned about you. About your comfort.”
“I dunno.”
Khalil gave him a half-frown.
“It sounds like she gets that you’re rough around the edges, but it’s not some sort of ego thing, or anger at the world or something. What’s she like? Personality wise?” Khalil asked.
Mo gave half a chuckle, thinking of her interaction with Doug.
“Maybe a little rough around the edges,” he said.
“A match made in heaven,” Khalil said.
Mo grunted again. Maybe Khalil wasn’t wrong. Both he and Jess were wary with the world. For him, it was a lifestyle; for her, it might have only been a reaction to the grief she was dealing with. He kept that part to himself, though. Khalil could help him without knowing what she was going through.
“To recap,” Khalil said, “this equally grouchy woman has paid close enough attention to figure you out.”
“Yes.”
“She stood up for you with people who should have known better because they’ve known you a lot longer than she has.”
“Yes.”
“ And she refused to let you criticize yourself,” Khalil said.
“Yes.”
“I can only lead the horse to water, Mo,” he said flatly.
Mo paused. He hadn’t laid it out like that. He’d been too caught up in his own confusion.
“Okay,” he said.
“Jess likes you, Mo,” Khalil said. “Repeat that, please.”
Mo rolled his eyes.
“Jess likes me,” he muttered.
“Good,” Khalil said. “So if she likes you and she kissed you back, what on earth do you have to feel guilty for?”
That was the problem. Mo didn’t know.
“Is it Maddie?” Khalil asked.
“Maddie?”
“Well, your life has kind of revolved around Maddie since you and Diana split up. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. But are you afraid that if you let Jess into your life, you’ll have to push Maddie out somehow?”
Mo considered the possibility.
“Maybe,” he said.
“I don’t see that happening,” Khalil said. “You’re so attuned to Maddie emotionally; I’d be shocked if you did something like that. Even unintentionally. Besides, has that been an issue with Diana’s new husband? Does Maddie feel like she still has her mom?”
“It hasn’t been an issue at all,” Mo said.
“So why would it be an issue with you?”
Maybe Khalil was right. Jess was the first person he’d really been interested in since the divorce. Staying focused on Maddie had allowed him to maintain the emotional stability he desperately needed to feel balanced.
“I mean, I guess it could be that. But it doesn’t feel quite—”
“It’s the girl thing, isn’t it?” Khalil asked flatly.
“The girl thing?”
“You’ve never been the most…aware of female interest,” Khalil said. “We almost had to hold an intervention to get you to realize that Diana was into you.”
Mo chuckled in spite of himself.
“And even back then, you weren’t sure it was okay to like someone, which I’ll never understand,” Khalil said.
“Very funny, Ladies’ Man,” Mo said.
“One lady man now, thank you very much,” Khalil said. “I hate telling you to relax because saying it won’t work, but maybe let yourself see where this goes. It might not go anywhere, maybe you’ll get to know each other and realize the vibe isn’t right. But it’s worth trying. Especially since it seems like Jess respects your…uniqueness.”
Mo bristled a little at the last part, but Khalil wasn’t wrong. Mo could just see what happens.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll try.”
“You could sound a little more enthusiastic,” Khalil said. “You’ve already kissed her.”
“It’s…a lot to process.”
“It is,” Khalil said. “But you can do it. You might even like it.”
“Hmmph.”
“Let’s get started,” Khalil said, standing and pushing the stool to the side. Mo shifted to the edge of the chair and stood too. He unsnapped the cape.
“What are you doing?” Khalil asked.
“Be back Thursday,” Mo said over his shoulder as he walked to the door. Khalil started laughing.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, man. You’re already here,” he called out.
“No,” Mo said, unlocking the door. “Stick to the schedule.”