Chapter Eight Loretta and Jasper #2
“Oh my goodness. My parents bought Ari the whole set of Beatrix Potter stories in little chubby books when she was born. I read one to her pretty much every night, even though I know she can’t understand all of the words.
They’re sitting in her room on...” Loretta’s nostalgic smile is snuffed out.
“Well, maybe someday Matt will send them to her.”
“Bastard might keep them out of spite,” Rob says.
I like Loretta’s dad. I like her mother, too.
“Daddy, things are getting started. If I have to borrow the books from the library for a little bit, I—”
“Wait! Wait, wait, come on!” I grab Loretta’s hand, and we trot, my long legs taking the steps far too quickly for her petite ones. Stupidly, I scoop her up against my side when I feel her start to trip up the basement stairs.
“Where are we going?” Loretta asks breathlessly.
“To the guestroom—the other one. It’s a storage room.”
“How big is this place?” I hear Loretta’s dad mutter.
“It’s big enough,” I call out, and to my surprise, Loretta doesn’t let go of my hand when we get to the next flight of stairs. She’s chuckling a little and panting, and I love those sounds so much more than crying and sobbing.
“It’s really big, Dad! There are two fireplaces, Mom.”
“Fancy,” she laughs.
I say, “You have to come visit when things are calmer.”
“Speaking of calm, you’re not. What are we doing?” Loretta giggles.
“In one of these boxes, I have my mother’s complete collection of Beatrix Potter books.
They’ve been sitting in a box, just waiting for kids of my own.
I want Ari to have them!” I declare, opening the door at the end of the hall.
Cardboard boxes and big storage boxes fill the entire room.
“Working our way to the south corner,” I announce like some cheesy tour guide, “you will see early Wainwright collectibles that Mrs. Wainwright Senior insists on passing onto Mrs. Wainwright Junior, and the little Wainwrights. Stacking cups, building blocks, things from the eighties.” I pop open a box.
“Ah! The Golden Age of Fisher-Price. And this one... Ooh, first-edition Richard Scarry and Saturday morning cartoon collectibles. Oh, look at this mobile. Ari would like these, wouldn’t she?
” I hold up a mobile with soft, fuzzy lambs and felt bunnies.
“You can’t give her those!” Loretta protests.
“She can always give them back when she’s done,” I insist, stubbornly searching through the boxes. “Books! Jackpot.” I pull out the large, boxed set of books in their pale pastel dust jackets. “She can have these.”
“No. Jasper, you can’t—”
“I literally can.” I thrust the books at her, hitting her in the chest. I back away, horrified, hands flying to my mouth. “Oops. That was an accident.”
Loretta smiles at me. “I know that, silly.”
“Let the boy give you the books for a little while, sweetie. Ooh, Rob! Look, I found WPNR’s channel online. Ohh! He is handsome! The other night, I only saw the little headshot in the corner of the screen, but now I can really see. He’s a looker.”
“Mother!”
“He looks like Christopher Reeve, but more distinguished.”
“Mother! He can hear you. You said that last night.”
“I didn’t say he was distinguished, did I?”
“That means old, Mother.”
“No! Does it? Well, I didn’t mean old. I’m sure he knows he’s gorgeous, honey. And he’s single?”
“Oh, my God...”
“He could be gay, Michelle,” Rob says helpfully.
Well, not helpful to me. “Nope. Not gay.”
Loretta looks at me, and damn it, I’m looking at her in a way that says my attraction is extremely specific. I like women. I like blondes. I like this beautiful, brave, blonde woman who still looks like an angel who does pin-up work on the side, even in red velour loungewear.
“I’m single because the right girl hasn’t come along, that’s all.
I’m patient. I’m very patient. I’m going to wait as long as it takes for her to show up, and then I’m going to take care of her and make her the happiest woman on earth.
Or at least tied for first.” I toss on a little levity at the end, but the room seems way too stuffy, way too warm.
I can smell Loretta’s scent like someone sprayed me with expensive, subtle perfume, and there are definite notes of arousal in it this time. I can hear heartbeats, hers and mine, and nothing else. Her mother’s voice is just warbling in the distance.
“Mom? Dad? I think I’m going to go to bed. It’s been a huge day.”
Her body is stressed. Sexual stimulation may be her way to relieve stress. That’s all I’m smelling, I’m sure, and even if it is anything else, it’s none of my business.
“I’ll leave you to poke around in here,” I say. “See if there is anything you want for Ari.”
I FIND HIM OUTSIDE our room, ear pressed to the door.
“She fussed once, but then she went back down,” Jasper whispers.
“I probably woke her up, running around like I did. I was just so excited that I had something that you could use for her. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it earlier.
I never think about that stuff.” Jasper shrugs.
“Kinda forced myself not to. I thought maybe I’d have a use for it by now, but each year passes, and I don’t.
It’s funny, isn’t it, how so many people put such a stigma on thirty? Like you have to be married by then?”
“I just wanted to live a simpler life than the one I grew up with, with two parents who were always working and juggling three kids. I wanted a life where I could be the wife and mom, and raise a family. Take care of my husband and my home. My kids. It’s so stupid.
I realized it earlier. Matt was too young.
Matt thought he was ready, but he wasn’t.
I was. He said he wanted me to be the happy homemaker, but without any realization of what stress it would put on him.
” I lean against the wall, books clutched to my chest.
“Men and women mature at different rates, they say, but then again, so do individuals. I don’t think I matured until I was in journalism classes and got sent to cover some major events in New York.
It made me appreciate my little town. There’s danger here, of course, there is danger everywhere, but it made me more civic-minded, more active in the community.
That was good for my maturity level. It helped me be unselfish. ”
I nod and clutch the books to my chest even harder, as if the books can shield my heart from an ever-growing thought. He’s perfect for me. For us.
I’m just too late. By the time I’m divorced, settled, and ready to think about dating again, someone will have snapped him up. He’s too good not to find someone.
“You okay? Oh, no, I realize I’m keeping you from getting to bed.” Jasper backs away from the door and into his room.
“No, I’m not ready to sleep yet. I just wanted my parents to get off the spiral of embarrassing questions.
” I shift the books again, wincing because the sharp edges keep finding tender spots.
Ari’s hitting that 6-month growth spurt and feeling better after a week and a half of being on antibiotics and having an ear infection.
She’s been wanting more milk lately, and my body is trying to keep up.
Right now, I’m glad Jasper ordered me some comfy clothes so they’re baggy.
The only part of pregnancy or post-partum that Matt liked was how much larger my chest was—and even then, he didn’t like the nursing aspect that caused it.
Jasper looks at me with his head tilted. “Pain killers?”
“I try not to take them. I’m just... I need to order a nursing bra.”
“Oh my gosh. I should have realized that.” Jasper smacks his head.
“You did better than almost anyone else in the world I can imagine,” I chuckle and follow him into his room.
“What helps?”
“When she nurses. Don’t worry, she’ll wake up in a couple of hours.”
“Did you find the underwear? Oh my gosh. That sounds so wrong.” Jasper hangs his head and shakes it.
“I did, carefully hidden under everything else. Very gentlemanly.”
“I had no idea what I was doing.”
“Then you have amazing beginner’s luck. You did great.”
“Well. You are great. And brave. Just so you know.”
My insides twist in a familiar, heated way, but it’s different this time. This is no sweet young rush of love, or the first explorations of passion. This is deeper. Wrong, maybe. I don’t care; the feeling is unexpected, but I understand it.
It’s when you choose something. You recognize something.
I think Jasper appreciates me, but it’s going to be a long time before I can fully trust someone, isn’t it? It would be stupid to think I could leave one relationship and dive into another.
Right?
“Thank you so much for saying that. Saying and doing all the right things.”
“Look, sweatpants and underwear were simple. I just guessed a size medium and clicked. I’m going to need help with anything I missed.”
“You bought out the baby section of the internet,” I tease.
“Well, I’m going to buy out the mommy section now. Damn it, that sounded wrong, too.”
I reach for his hand and realize I’ve been doing it all day, as a gesture of comfort, of leaning on someone stronger. Right now, it feels almost affectionate.
“I think you’re awesome and generous. I won’t need much more.”
“I have so much to give,” he says, and I know he isn’t talking about shopping.
“You do. You really do.”
“So do you. For the right—” Jasper’s voice shuts off suddenly, mouth snapping shut. “Uh. My laptop is on my desk. I can bring it to you.”
“I could shop in here with you, so we don’t wake Arianna?” I suggest.
“Good plan.”
NOVEMBER NIGHTS ARE cold up here.
I ask if Loretta would like a fire while she browses. I almost ask about wine, but change it to milk and cookies.
My God, the look she gave me could burn through an iron pair of briefs.
“Want to see a movie?” I ask when I come back up to find Loretta shutting the laptop after ordering a few necessities I missed. I let myself pretend that this is the way it will be. My wife and I, hanging out in the nice, big bedroom, television on low, fireplace crackling, snacks in hand.
Bed beckoning.
But not every night, of course.
When Loretta finishes her snack and the last of some old musical comedy dies away, her head droops. I wait for a little bit before scooping her up and carrying her across the hall to her bed. She wakes up, sees it’s me, and doesn’t flinch. She smiles sleepily.
“Night, Jasper.”
“Night, Loretta.”
“Thank you again. A million, billion thank yous,” she whispers. Her fingers hold onto my sleeve. “I can’t repay you somehow?”
I shake my head. “You can start work tomorrow. You can start by babyproofing the living room, and then dragging Christmas stuff out of the storage room. Might as well set up the decorations while I have someone around to enjoy them.”
Loretta nods.
I want her to stay. I met her on Halloween, and I want her to be here for every single holiday after. I want to see Ari’s first Thanksgiving, even if it’s just one bite of pureed sweet potato. I want to buy her way too many gifts for Christmas. I want to kiss Loretta at midnight on New Year’s Eve.
Loretta sits up. “What is it? Did you hear something?” she breathes, voice panicked.
“No. I was just thinking that I’ll miss you when you leave. I hope you stay in touch.”
“Um. Well. Let’s see how things go with Matt, I guess. I mean, I love my parents, and I might need them, but maybe Pine Ridge might be an option, too.”
“It might?” I beam. My face has no filter. “I’ll babysit whenever you want.”
She gives another sleepy giggle, and I squeeze her hand before I head out of the room.