Second Chance for the Single Mom

1 - Haley

1

Haley

“No way,” my sister, Sara, exclaimed. “He texted you out of the blue? After all these years?”

“Right?” I replied.

Brandon, my five-year-old son, let out a yelp down in the front yard. We paused from our porch conversation to make sure he was okay—he’d tripped and scraped his knee, hesitating for a moment to decide if he wanted to cry or not, before shaking it off and running after the ball that had rolled away.

Turning back to Sara, I said, “I ignored the first text because I didn’t recognize the number. But then he texted me a second time explaining who it was.”

“Let me see,” Sara demanded.

I pulled out my phone and showed her the text.

UNKNOWN : Hey, is this still your number?

UNKNOWN : It’s Lucas. Been a while. I’m back in Vancouver and wanted to know if you’d like to get together for a drink and catch up. I’m free tonight.

“The second text was two hours ago,” I noted.

Sara leaned back in her chair and rested her hands on her pregnant belly. “We’re talking about Lucas , Lucas? Your ex? The one you couldn’t stand?”

“What other Lucas would I be talking about?” I replied. “And it’s not like I couldn’t stand him. We just butted heads a lot back in high school. There was no future there.”

“So, are you going to hook up with him?”

I gave a start. “Slow your roll, girl. We’re just talking about catching up.”

Sara narrowed her eyes at me. “Hales. He wants to get a drink and catch up . At night. That’s code for sex.”

“Is it really?”

She let out a frustrated sound. “How am I the one who understands dating subtext? You’re the one who’s single, and I’m married!”

“It’s not like I’ve lived an exciting single life,” I shot back at her. “I haven’t dated anyone in a while.”

“Three years,” Sara said. “You haven’t dated or hooked up with anyone in three years .”

“You make it sound like I’m some kind of weirdo!” I took a long sip of wine. “It’s not like I have a lot of time to date, between work and Bran…”

My son came running up the porch steps. “ Mom . Can we go to the park?”

“Case and point,” I said to Sara before turning to Brandon. “It’s almost your bedtime, Bran.”

“But I want to go to the park!”

“We can go tomorrow,” I said firmly. “I have an open house at noon, so I’ll take you after that. And if you’re good, we can get ice cream.”

That satisfied the boy, who let out a cheer and then sprinted down the porch steps to play with his ball. He loved this time of year, when the weather in Vancouver, Washington—right across the river from Portland, Oregon—was perfect and we spent so much time outside. Better than him staring at a screen all day.

“Mom used to bribe you with ice cream,” Sara said.

“Don’t you dare,” I said with a laugh.

“Just pointing it out!” Sara gazed fondly at her nephew, then turned back to me with renewed enthusiasm. “You should accept Lucas’s invite.”

“Here we go,” I murmured.

“You told me last week that you wish you could end your dry spell, but are afraid of putting yourself out there,” Sara said, sounding like an attorney making their case. “You know Lucas. He isn’t a random guy.”

“I haven’t talked to him since high school,” I insisted. “That was a lifetime ago.”

“Seven years isn’t that long,” Sara continued. “And didn’t you two have, like, crazy chemistry back then?”

She was right about that. Lucas and I had dated for a few months during our senior year of high school, and we couldn’t keep our hands off each other the entire time. We went at it like rabbits that year: in the back of his Honda Accord, on my living room couch when my parents weren’t home, even in the baseball dugout when he was done with practice. I’d slept with six other guys in my life, and none of them had come close to having the amount of chemistry as I had with Lucas.

“We drove each other insane,” I answered. “Lucas was a self-centered asshole. He forgot my birthday, and when he did find out about it two days later, he tried to make it up by taking me to Chili’s.” I gestured with my wine glass. “Chili’s, Sara!”

She let out a giggle. “I remember that. Mom and I called him Baby Back Ribs for the rest of your relationship.” She shook her head. “But who cares if he was a bad boyfriend? We’re talking about sex , which you said was always amazing. You should hook up with him tonight.”

“I need another glass of wine before I keep talking about this.” I picked up the bottle and gave myself a healthy pour. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Sara gave me an annoyed look, but then asked, “Have you heard back about that private school?”

“The Worthington Academy?” I shook my head. “I haven’t heard back. It’s only been a week, but I don’t think it’s going to work out.”

“Aw, why not? I thought you’ve been saving up for the tuition.”

“I have. Why do you think I’m still living in the apartment above your garage?”

“Because you love being so close to your baby sister?” she said sweetly.

“You’re only a year younger than me. And yes, I love living this close. But no, I’ve been saving up since Bran was born. I have the money. But I don’t think he will get in. Apparently, the Worthington is very exclusive. Claire’s daughter didn’t get in.”

Sara groaned. “Private school for a five-year-old. I’m not looking forward to stuff like that when the twins are born next month.” She gently stroked her belly.

“And you’ll have twice the tuition to pay,” I said.

“Harper’s in charge of our finances, and he says we’ll be all right.” Sara glanced out at Bran playing in the yard. “All I have to worry about is popping these two loaves of bread out of the oven.”

“You’ll do great,” I reassured her. “Mom gave us good birthing genes.”

Sara glared at me. “She gave you good birthing genes, just like she gave you perfect skin and straight teeth. I had to wear braces, and had acne until I was twenty-two. It remains to be seen about the birthing genes.”

“You’ve got wide hips. If anything, your birth will go easier.”

She stiffened. “Are you calling my ass fat?”

“Yes! I wish I had an ass like yours!”

She dropped her fake outrage and pushed to her feet, then turned around and started dancing, wiggling her butt as best as she could in her very-pregnant state. The two of us laughed, and then she carefully lowered herself back into her chair.

“Drink up,” she told me. “I want to go back to talking about Lucas.”

I groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

“You could be having hot, meaningless sex tonight . And for some reason, you’re resistant to the idea.”

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves. I haven’t even replied to him.”

“Then text him back!” she insisted. “I promise I’ll shut up if you do.”

Letting out a dramatic sigh, I opened the text and began typing. Sara slid her chair closer so she could watch.

Me : Hi Lucas, it’s been a long time. Yeah, I still have the same number. I’m surprised you’re back in Vancouver. Didn’t you move out East?

Lucas : I was in Detroit for a few years. Felt like a change. I’ll tell you all about it over a drink. I’d love to catch up.

Me : Do you want to CATCH up, or HOOK up? Forgive my bluntness, but I don’t stay up late these days, and I want to know what kind of evening I’m getting into.

Lucas : LOL. I always liked how you got straight to the point. Glad to see that hasn’t changed. I didn’t have anything specific in mind for tonight.

Lucas : But I’m open to anything.

“He’s open to anything!” Sara said, pointing at my screen. “That means he wants to hook up. Told you!”

“Fine,” I said. “You were right.”

“I’ll watch Bran tonight while you go have fun.”

“Hold on a second,” I replied. “Just because he wants to hook up doesn’t mean I do. There’s a lot of baggage between us.”

“You had a messy break-up,” Sara said. “Big deal. That was a long time ago.”

That wasn’t the only baggage between us. But I didn’t want to get into that with Sara right now.

“The last thing I want to do,” I said carefully, “is date Lucas again.”

Sara made an annoyed sound, then raised her voice. “Nobody is talking about dating! I’m very specifically saying you should go to his place and have hot, meaningless sex with him!”

Bran stopped bouncing his ball in the yard and gazed in our direction. I gave Sara a pointed look.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s the hormones. I’ve been yelling a lot. But my point stands. You’ve had a dry spell. This is a reasonably safe way to have some fun with someone you already know, rather than a random guy on Tinder.”

As was so often the case, my sister was right. I loved Brandon more than anything in the world, but it was hard to date—or even just have casual sex—as a single mom. And I used to love sex.

The wine was doing its job. My inhibitions were lowered, and the idea was tempting. Even now, all these years later, I could remember how good Lucas and I were together in bed. The raw, animal-like chemistry as we explored our bodies. Knowing I could relive that tonight was causing an excited shiver to run up my spine.

“Yes!” Sara exclaimed. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you?”

I smirked and began texting.

Me : I can’t be out too late, but I’d love to get a drink at your place.

Lucas : Shit. I fucked up.

Me : ???

Lucas : Earlier, when you hadn’t responded to me yet, I invited my buddy over to hang out. And he just showed up. Are you free tomorrow night?

Me : I have plans. I’m going bowling with my realtor team. What about Sunday night?

Lucas : I have to get up early Monday. Damn. Maybe next week?

Me : Yeah, maybe.

Sara sighed unhappily. “This is a disappointing way to end the night.”

“It’s probably for the best.” I set my phone down and stood. “I have to pee, then I’m getting cookies.”

“Oh, yeah! The twins are craving cookies right now. Bring the whole bag.”

I went inside to use the bathroom, waving to my brother-in-law Harper as I passed the living room. I felt relieved that nothing was going to happen tonight. When Lucas and I were dating, we were both so spontaneous . I loved that about our relationship. But we were just kids, and I was an adult now. I couldn’t run off for a night of meaningless sex at the drop of a hat.

But even though I told myself that, I couldn’t shake the disappointed feeling that I was missing out on something fun.

“I brought the whole bag,” I said when I returned to the front porch, “but apparently you made a big dent in the Oreos last night. There’s only one sleeve left. And… what’s so funny?”

Sara was leaning back in her chair, a huge grin on her face. The dangerous kind. Like when we were little girls and she had put dog poop on my chair and was waiting for me to sit in it.

“Nothing,” she said with a giggle.

“What did you do?” I asked, dread rising up in my stomach.

She pointed at my phone where I had left it on the table. “I replied to Lucas for you.”

I snatched the phone from the table and checked the text. Sara was beaming from ear to ear.

When I saw what she had sent him, my jaw dropped.

“Oh.”

“My.”

“ GOD .”