10. Lizzie
TEN
LIZZIE
Hazel had been cast as one of the candy canes in the school’s holiday play, and I’d volunteered to help with the production. The director had asked me to help with set design and costumes, so after work, I headed to the school to do my time. I was neck-deep in red glitter and cardboard when Hazel came running over to me, a bright smile on her face.
“Mom! We learned the candy cane dance!”
Kneeling on the hard linoleum floor with the beginnings of a piece of decor in front of me, I leaned back on my heels and smiled. “What’s the candy cane dance?”
“This.” Hazel demonstrated with a series of wiggles and hops, and I couldn’t help but grin.
“Very nice,” I said, then nodded to the director. Astrid, the art teacher, had volunteered to direct the play while the regular theater teacher was on maternity leave. Astrid was an exuberant woman who always had a smile on her face. She came over to compliment Hazel on her hard work, which I appreciated.
“Should be a good production this year,” Astrid said with a bright smile. Her dark-blond hair curled in ringlets, and her blue eyes sparkled under the auditorium lights. “And I so appreciate you helping out with the set.”
“I do what I can,” I told her, stretching out my back as I heaved myself to my feet.
“Hazel is a hoot.”
“You can say that again.”
“She’s whipped the candy canes into shape without me having to say a word,” Astrid admitted. “And the candy cane dance?”
“What about it?”
“She came up with it,” Astrid said, laughing. “Choreographed the whole thing, taught the other kids, and then pitched it to me today.”
I couldn’t help the smile that bloomed over my lips. “Sounds like my daughter. She doesn’t take no for an answer.”
We exchanged a few pleasantries as Hazel chatted with her friends, and I let my shoulders relax. Astrid was exuberant and funny. She talked with her hands and wasn’t shy to give me a quick hug and a squeeze on my upper arms as she told me goodbye.
I liked her, and she was kind to Hazel. Ever since Thanksgiving, it felt like I had to keep reminding myself of all the good things in my life. The people that made my life better, the teachers that cared, the family that stuck around when things got tough.
But I still felt tired.
I gathered my things, trailing red glitter everywhere. My entire body ached. I couldn’t wait to get home, get dinner done, and collapse on the couch. It had been a long day, as most days seemed to be.
Laurel had told me that Sean finally texted her this morning. Pretending to be excited for her had sapped my energy, and it hadn’t even been ten o’clock in the morning when she’d told me about it.
Hazel hummed and hopped beside me as we made our way out of the theater room. Zach had joined a computer club, so Hazel and I picked him up from the classroom where the club was held and headed out. The end was nigh. It was only Tuesday, but every minute I spent on my feet felt like an eternity. I was digging through my purse for my car keys when my phone rang. My brother’s name flashed on the screen.
“Hey,” I said, pinning the phone between my shoulder and my ear while I hunted for my keys.
“Hey, Lizzie. Are you busy tonight?”
The movement of my hands stilled. I blinked at my distorted reflection in the car windows and bit back a groan. “Why?”
“Emily has a work thing, and I’ve got an appointment. You mind watching the kids for an hour or two?”
Visions of a quick dinner and a leisurely hour spent zoning out on the couch disintegrated. For a brief moment, I considered saying no. Aaron did this kind of thing all the time. He’d call me in an emergency and expect me to drop everything to head over and babysit for him. Most days, I barely got a thank you from him, never mind reciprocity.
Up until that exact moment, I hadn’t realized how much that bothered me.
My fingers finally wrapped around the hard plastic of my car fob. “Your babysitter can’t make it?”
“It’s not enough notice,” he said, which wasn’t exactly an answer, and didn’t address the fact that he was calling me on short notice too. I’d probably been his first call. “Please, Lizzie? I’m supposed to head out and Emily said she won’t be home until eight. You can bring Zach and Hazel.”
I rolled my eyes. That was generous of him. “Fine,” I said. “Be there in a few.”
Pressing the button to unlock the car, I called the kids back over from where they’d wandered to the playground and loaded them into the car. My lower back ached something awful, and my head had begun to pound. But the kids were in good spirits and when I told them we’d be seeing their cousins for the evening, their smiles eased some of the mounting bitterness that had crept into my mood.
When I got to my brother’s house, there was a familiar truck parked in the street. I slid in behind it and quickly glanced at myself in the visor mirror, sighing. I had glitter all over my face, and my attempts to wipe it off only smeared it further. Once again, I’d be seeing Sean looking like a mess.
I didn’t know why I cared. My own vanity had left me years ago, but I seemed to be increasingly aware of just how frumpy I looked all the time. Maybe the fact that Sean was a single parent and he managed to be fit and dashing had something to do with it.
Besides, Laurel told me they’d set up a time to get dinner and drinks together on the weekend. So if there had been any doubt in my mind about whether or not he’d been flirting with me through his messages last night, those doubts had been thoroughly extinguished.
But I squared my shoulders and painted a smile on my face, then herded the kids up to the front door. I knocked and let myself in, then followed the noise to the open kitchen/living area. Sean leaned against the kitchen island, looking lithe and muscular. He lifted a bottle of beer to his lips as my brother did the same, and I planted my hands on my hips and glared at my brother.
“An appointment?” I demanded.
Aaron glanced over. “Hey, Lizzie. Did I say appointment? I meant I was supposed to go out and see some old buddies of ours play at the Cedar Grove. Sean hasn’t seen any of those guys in almost a decade.”
“Uh-huh,” I told him, and the ache in my lower back pulsed.
“The kids haven’t eaten yet, but I’ve left some money for pizza. Don’t tell Emily.”
“I think she’ll figure it out when she walks in and smells it.”
My brother grinned. “I meant don’t tell her it was my idea.”
“I’m not taking that fall for you,” I told him, and dropped my bag on a nearby chair. “Hi, Sean.”
“Hey. Thanks for watching Mikey. If I’d known you were doing it under false pretenses, I wouldn’t have agreed.”
At least he sounded sincere.
“Lizzie doesn’t mind,” my brother said. “Do you?”
“What’s one more?” I said, forcing lightness into my voice. All the reasons that I shouldn’t be resentful flooded my brain in a familiar rhythm. I did love the kids, and Sean had just gotten back to town. A couple more hours on duty wasn’t the end of the world. Hazel and Zach would be happy. Aaron was family. I didn’t mind being here, even though I had been looking forward to my hot date with my couch.
The tiny part of me that had gotten upset about the stuffing at Thanksgiving made herself known, pointing out that the number of favors I did for Aaron seemed to eclipse the number of favors he did for me. When did I get a break? When did I get to have an evening at a local bar with a few friends?
I squashed the thought and gave Sean a tired smile. “Heard you and Laurel are meeting up on the weekend.”
“Figured it was better than feeling your wrath for leaving her hanging.”
I snorted. “And don’t you forget it.” I grinned, then felt it fade. “She’s great. You’ll love her.”
His eyes held mine for a moment, and I felt…
I don’t know what I felt. A little zing that went down my spine and settled somewhere in my gut. I felt like he was trying to tell me something, like there was a layer to his look that I hadn’t seen in a man’s eyes in a long, long time. That he might be seeing me. Really seeing me.
I wasn’t just the default babysitter. I wasn’t just Zach and Laurel’s mom, or Aaron’s little sister. I was me , and I was worth looking at just for the sake of it.
Then he cleared his throat and straightened, blinking those beautiful eyes away from mine and toward my brother. The two of them said goodbye to their kids and made their way toward the front door, and I stood there like a piece of furniture.
A few hours later, with the kids (and me) full of pizza and plonked in front of a Christmas movie, I was relieved to hear the front door open. Emily needed a few minutes to get herself settled after work, so I leaned an elbow against the couch arm and watched the end of the movie with the kids, then gathered Zach and Hazel and finally took them home.
When I got in bed, exhaustion dragged at me, but I stared at the darkened shape of the ceiling fan above my bed for a long time. In the quiet of the house, with just me in my big bed, I felt very sad and very alone.
But that was ridiculous. My life was rich, and full, and good .
Gritting my teeth, I tried to distract myself. I thought about my to-do list for tomorrow. I thought about the fact that I was almost out of laundry detergent. I thought about the Christmas cookies I was planning on making on the weekend.
And I thought about Sean.
My thoughts ran toward him like a dog who’d just slipped the leash. The look he’d given me in my brother’s kitchen had made me remember what it was like to feel like a woman. That, combined with the borderline flirtatious text he’d sent me about my “skills,” had my pulse picking up. I thought about his rough, working-man’s hands on my arms, and then—yeah, then I was distracted.
I don’t know when my hand dipped below the waistband of my pajamas, but by the time I started touching myself, there was no going back. Besides, it was just me, myself, and I, wasn’t it? Couldn’t I think about a big, broad, strong man draping his body over mine? Couldn’t I wonder how it would feel to have him press my thighs open and look at me like he had earlier today?
I wasn’t hurting anyone. Maybe I needed this—a quick release. I could get it out of my system and go back to the way things had been just a couple weeks ago.
The wetness between my legs surprised me. A sigh slipped through my lips as I touched myself, imagining rougher hands in place of mine. I wanted to feel the stretch of him at my entrance. Wanted to feel his skin against mine, all that hard, naked flesh pressing me into the mattress while I panted his name.
My free hand slid up to cup my own breast. I closed my eyes and flushed at the thought of kneeling before him and taking him in my mouth. I wanted him to say my name again. I wanted him to be desperate when he did, to feel the tug of his fingers on my hair.
I came in a rush, thinking about the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes if I pushed him down to his back and sank down on top of him. I could almost feel the touch of his hands on my hips, rocking me to orgasm, and release went through me in a flash. It felt so good. So good. Nearly as good as the real thing.
Panting, I curled onto my side and waited for my heartbeat to slow. When my thoughts knitted themselves back together enough that I could think in full sentences again, only one thing became clear: I should not have done that.
Mostly because I wanted to do it again.
And I wanted the real thing.
I jumped when my phone rang. Scrambling to grab it from the nightstand, I gasped at the name on the screen—and swore.