33. Doing Something Wrong
DOING SOMETHING WRONG
“Hi, Mom,” Paris said hours later.
She wasn’t sure how she got through the day. How she was able to avoid London and focus on work.
Nope. There was no focusing being done.
She’d kept her door shut, her light on do not disturb, and since that was normal for her, she was left alone.
No reason for her to have her hand held to go home alone either.
So once she knew the office was quiet, she slipped out and left Molly there to lock up, saying she was going to finish up at home rather than starting something fresh.
What she finished was her tears.
“Hi, honey. How are you doing?”
“I’ve been better,” she said, sniffling.
Guess the tears weren’t exactly gone.
“What happened? Did you and Fletcher have a fight?”
She flopped on the couch. “I don’t know what the heck happened. I’m trying to piece it together the best I can.”
“And you need to bounce things off of me?” her mother asked.
“Yeah. London won’t do.”
“Which means that your sister would go into fight mode?”
“That’s one of them,” she said. “I’m not in the mood to defend Fletcher but don’t need to hear crap about him either.”
“It must be serious. Lay it out for me.”
She got comfortable on the couch, reached for the tissues and pulled one out to blot her eyes.
“I told you a bit about Ian, right?”
“Yes. That he didn’t know about you until Friday, then you met him on Sunday, and that you were hurt that Fletcher didn’t introduce you the first time.”
“Yeah.” She’d called her mother on Sunday afternoon to fill her in.
She was riding high, feeling great about where things were going and then out of nowhere, this happened.
“Something had to have happened.”
“He had a nasty divorce. Or maybe the divorce wasn’t bad, but the marriage. I never asked those details.”
Because she felt as if it was too intrusive. The fact Fletcher had shared as much as he had, when she knew it was hard for him, was enough. For now.
“Maybe you should have.”
“He’ll tell me if he wants me to know, but I don’t think it matters. What I know is his ex cheated on him a lot throughout his marriage. Just sex she said.”
“He had no clue, or he kept giving her a chance?”
She let out a snort. “No chances. When he found out, he moved out that night. I honestly think he blames himself for not seeing it more, but he always wanted to talk and she didn’t. He carries a lot of guilt that his career took him away from home.”
“Sounds like his ex knew what she was getting into though.”
“I said that also. Anyway, fast forward, Lorraine—that’s her name—she’s remarried to some political consultant out of DC. When she moved last year, Ian didn’t want to go. I guess it was split custody, but it sounds as if Ian spent more time with his father.”
“When he was around?” her mother asked.
“Yes. So West coming in and offering him this job was perfect timing.”
“There is no way West could have known what was going on in Fletcher’s life? Could he have?”
Paris laughed. This time there was some humor there. “I never asked and I don’t think Fletcher did. Doesn’t really matter either. Lorraine is in town this week. She wanted to see Ian, and Fletcher had to push him to go to dinner last night.”
“It didn’t go well?”
“We didn’t really get into details other than I know Ian came home moody. He slammed into his room and didn’t want to talk. Fletcher was going to give him a day.”
“Don’t judge,” her mother said. “I can hear it in your voice. All my children are different. Some needed more time than others.”
“Time seems to be the word of the day,” she said drily, then wiped a runaway tear off her cheek.
“Oh dear. Keep going.”
“Fletcher met with Lorraine earlier today. Whatever happened, he left feeling as if he’s doing something wrong. That maybe he’s moving too fast and putting too much on Ian. He’s worked so hard to get closer to his son and needs a bit of time to figure out what is going on.”
“How much time?”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“I just told you, every kid is different. Paris.” Her mother sighed. “You haven’t known him long enough to know all his parenting choices. You’ve met his son once. Don’t judge until you know the facts.”
“That’s another thing. He hasn’t even talked to Ian. He doesn’t know how much time he needs, only that he has to figure things out with his son.”
“So it could just be him saying he might not be around for a few days?” her mother asked.
She pursed her lips. “I don’t know. He didn’t know. I even told him he should have talked to Ian first before coming to me. Let’s be real. For the past month everything he does is with other people before me. He lines it all up before I find out.”
Her mother’s laughter wasn’t appreciated. “Do you even hear yourself? Sounds like you complained when he did that before and this time he came to you first and you’re still not happy.”
Her jaw hit the floor. “I didn’t think of that.”
“Nope. But if London acted that way, which by the way, sounds like your sister.”
“She’d be siding with me right now.”
“That’s right. She would be. Because she’s your shield. But you said you didn’t want London to trash Fletcher. Do you love him?”
“Does it really matter? Who knows when I’ll talk to him again? Why lose more of myself without knowing?”
“Paris,” her mother said in that voice that warned a monster lecture was on the horizon. “Life isn’t about knowing it all right when you want it. And even if you have all the facts, there is no guarantee you’re going to make the right decision.”
“True.”
“You’ve made a career out of lining up all the possibilities, all the ways if things were true, this might happen. Turn left, the other results. But no one really knows for sure if that would happen. Correct?”
“Yes,” she said. She pulled the blanket down from the couch and covered herself, hoping she could hide away from everything right now.
The words she’d said to Fletcher hours ago. The tears she’d let loose.
The frustration over not knowing the next step. Of losing her heart to a man she couldn’t figure out.
And at the bottom of it, that was the problem.
She wanted everything neatly lined up, and as her mother said, life didn’t operate that way.
“When it comes to your kids, you will do anything for them. You’ll risk your own happiness to ensure they are happy. You put your life on hold for them.”
“He’s been doing that. I thought he was afraid.”
“Maybe he’s that too. Sounds like he was burned pretty severely. It’s hard to feel the heat again when that happens.”
“I know,” she said, then let out a frustrated growl.
“Cut yourself some slack. This is new for you too. The thing with Fletcher is he’s older.”
“He’s not that old,” she argued.
“I didn’t mean it that way. I meant, he’s an old soul. He’s experienced more than you’ll ever know. More than he might ever tell you.”
She’d thought of that too. “That isn’t making me feel any better.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel better. I’m trying to get you to open your mind like you do in your job. Just do it in your personal life. Don’t plan it. Don’t hold grudges. Hear him out and pivot like you would in your job.”
“But this isn’t my job,” she argued. “This is my life.”
“There,” her mother said. “That was easier than I thought it’d be.”
She scrunched her nose and pulled the blanket over her head. Not that anyone could see her, but it made her feel better.
“You did that on purpose?”
“I wanted you to understand what you’re feeling.”
“I know. I’m feeling it. Too much. Everything since I’ve met him. I’ve never felt so much. Good, bad, frustrating, exciting...” She trailed off before she said more.
She didn’t need to. Her mother’s soft laugh said it all.
“You know what you need to do. Did I help you see it at least?”
“Yes, Mom. You always do.”
“One day when you have kids, you’ll do it too.”
“I hope so,” she said. “I hope I can there too.”
Because she wasn’t sure she could feel the same with anyone other than Fletcher, and she had no clue if he wanted more kids.
There was so much they didn’t know about each other still.
She only knew how she felt.
And for now, that was enough.
She just had to decide how long she could wait for him.