Chapter 3
Chapter Three
“ T he stupid legend? That’s what this was about?” Matt yanked up his pants, his face growing rigid. “Yer good, I’ll give ye that.”
I’d watched in fascination as his shamrock had started to shrink seconds before he’d pulled up his pants, and then his words registered. More precisely, his disgusted tone.
My busted gaze snapped up to his steely one. “Matt, that’s not what I meant. I would never?—”
“Really, now.” He zipped his jeans as I yanked down the hem of my dress and refastened the bodice. “Yer telling me all this,” he gestured to the pool table, “wasn’t about seeing my so-called tattoo fer yerself?” He crossed his arms over his chest and arched a brow.
“So-called? Honey, I have eyes. I know I saw something.” I tried to lighten the tension, because admitting how much I’d needed him was not an option.
He scowled. “Ye don’t know what yer talking about. What ye saw was…ye know what? Never mind. It’s not worth it, and ye’ve pretty much answered me question.” Matt shook his head.
“No, I haven’t answered your question. What we just did had nothing to do with the legend. Well, maybe originally when the girls…” I started, but Matt looked thoroughly disappointed as he threw up his hands.
He stormed away.
I scrambled off the table and charged after him.
“Matt, wait, it wasn’t like that. You made me feel good after a really crappy day. That’s what this was about. Just letting ourselves feel good. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing if that’s all ye be looking fer.” He turned out the lights as he walked, his back ramrod straight and the set of his shoulders marble stiff. “I just happen to be looking fer something more in a woman, and ye made it perfectly clear yer not on the same page as me. So, what’s the point?”
“The point is we connected in a way I never have. I know you felt it,” I said from right behind him.
“We connected physically,” he stopped abruptly, and I bounced off his back, stumbling a couple steps as he turned around to nail me with a glare, “but that’s all there could ever be between us.” His gaze ran over me from head to toe, and I felt the chill from four feet away. “Yer not exactly the kind of woman I’d take home to me ma.”
I gasped. “Whoever said I wanted to go home to your ma anyway?” I narrowed my eyes. “Is this why you stopped popping into my shop? Because I don’t meet your standards? Coming from a man who called me high maintenance, you have some nerve.”
“I’m not the one who’s divorced, lass.”
I plopped my hands on my hips. “Oh, my God! What are you, a Neanderthal?”
“No, I’m Catholic.” He shrugged. “Me family is very old-fashioned. They would never accept me dating a divorced woman.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake.” I waved one hand in the air.
Matt’s family sounded as bad as the people in Mayflower. Because of my grandmother, I had their respect by association, but they’d made it clear they didn’t care for my choice of career in teaching sensual massage.
“I’m just being honest with ye, lass,” he thrust a finger in my face, “unlike ye were with me.”
“Now you’re the one who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” I thrust my finger right back. “And what do you call what we just did, oh saintly one?”
“Based on yer knowledge of me tattoo , a poor lapse in judgment.” I could see the regret on his face seconds after he said those words, but it was too late.
A sharp pain sliced through me.
I’d been a lot of things in my day, but never anyone’s ‘poor lapse in judgment.’ “How will you ever live with yourself now?” I spat. “No wonder you’ve never been married. A bit strange for a man in his forties who claims to be all about family. Ever think maybe it’s not the women? Maybe it’s you.”
He threw his hands up. “At least I didn’t try to trick ye. I was honest. I know what I want.”
“I know exactly what I want.” I grabbed my purse and straightened my dress. “To be as far away from you as I can.”
He put his hands on his hips and stared me down. “It’s good to know we’re finally on the same page, lass.”
“My thoughts exactly.” I charged past him and headed for the door.
“Tiffany, wait. Let me call you—” Matt started to say from behind me.
“Oh, I think you’ve called me enough for one night, thank you very much.” I swallowed the tears clogging my throat.
His voice gentled. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Spare me,” I managed to get out.
“Look, I can’t let you go?—”
“You can go to hell,” I hollered over my shoulder as the door closed behind me, and I heard him mutter something about he probably would now .
He had balls, I’d give him that. Big ones, and I should know.
I charged down the street, too furious to care if anyone saw me coming out of the bar this late at night. A bolt of lightning lit up the black, starless, late May sky, followed by a crack of thunder so loud it shook the ground. I marched on, fearlessly, feeling the same storm raging within me…until a gust of wind carrying the threat of summer and the dewy scent of rain whipped me in the face.
How had this happened?
I hadn’t set out to have amazing pool table sex with Matt, it just sort of happened. Two consenting adults had world-rocking physical contact. I sighed, my shoulders relaxing slightly as some of the anger and tension oozed out. He might be acting like an ass now, but I had to admit he’d been upset over me mentioning the clover tattoo. I couldn’t blame him, but he wouldn’t let me explain.
And then he’d made matters worse by sticking his foot in his mouth several times, insulting my character. If he knew my ex, he would know exactly why I was divorced. Why did the sex with Matt have to be incredible? I’d felt so connected to him, and it had been much more than a physical connection. I wasn’t prepared to put a name to what I had felt; but whatever it was, it had been real.
Not up to his standards?
A bit of indignation crept back up my spine, snapping my shoulders straight. Who the hell did he think he was? He was obviously looking for the perfect woman. With today’s divorce rate, he wasn’t likely to find her. I had news for him. She didn’t exist. Not that I wanted to be her. No way in hell. I’d been down that road, and it hadn’t been pretty. I liked living my life on my own terms, with no one but myself to think about. I pursed my lips.
Then why was I so angry…so hurt?
Pain pulsed behind my temples from too much thinking and too many martinis. Not to mention getting a little too cozy with my good friend Dom. At the end of the street, I unlocked the door to my shop and was about to march up the stairs to my apartment.
Most of the businesses in Mayflower were set in old houses with apartments upstairs. It cut down on the need for overdevelopment—something this small New England town was dead set against. Suddenly, I felt the presence of someone behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know who followed.
Matt.
I sighed, knowing in my heart he was a good and decent man. He just lived in the stone ages, and I couldn’t risk getting hurt any further. I glanced over my shoulder and met his gaze. He stood there larger than life with his hands fisted at his sides, the wind whipping his blond curls about his head like some Viking from long ago, standing strong and proud as he prepared to do battle. Then a solemn expression swept over his face, and the fight went out of him as the first fat raindrops pattered against the hard ground.
We’d both said things we’d never normally say, but we couldn’t take them back now. He slipped his hands in his jean pockets and his shoulders drooped slightly, his eyes saying it all. He was sorry. Well, so was I, but that didn’t change the fact that we both wanted entirely different things. He was right. What was the point of pursuing something that could lead only to heartache, even if the electricity still sizzled between us?
There was no point.
I wasn’t ready to share my life, didn’t know if I would ever be, and Matt seemed to sense that, which was a good thing. Because had we started something, I didn’t know if I would have been strong enough to walk away. I opened the door while I still could, shutting it and him firmly behind me.
I didn’t need Matt. I didn’t need any man. And so far, turning forty had been eventful, not boring, same as any other age. I took comfort in that. I shook my head and allowed myself a small smile. And here I had been worried.
Silly me for thinking my life was about to change.
“How did this happen?” I whispered one week later, blowing my raw nose and dabbing at eyes that felt like someone had thrown sand in them.
“It will get better, I promise.” Zoe squeezed my hand. “Give yourself time.”
“Right now, I don’t feel like I’ll ever get over this kind of heartache.” My lips trembled. “Do you realize how different my life will be now?”
“It sucks, I know, Babe.” Harmony patted my shoulder from behind me. “But we all saw this coming.”
“At least she’s at peace now.” Morticia stepped up to flank my other side.
“She looks great.” I stared down into the plush gold-and-white casket, and fresh tears rolled down my cheeks. “You know how much Grammy’s appearance meant to her, and you made her look fabulous. I can’t thank you enough for that.” I walked down the aisle away from the casket, needing some distance and wanting to give others a chance to pay their respects.
“You’re welcome. Dad did a nice job with the calling hours, I thought.” Morti and the others followed close by my side.
“The flowers are beautiful. This town really loved Eugenia Eisenhower, that much was evident.” Zoe’s eyes grew misty. She took a deep breath. “I love this church.”
“You’re lucky they love you.” Harm chuckled. “I still don’t think Sister Mary Agnes has recovered from the time your darling daughter used the vibrator she named Snaky to mix the cake batter that you were going to serve at their party. Wonder if they’ll ask you to plan this year’s Sisters of Sacred Heart Banquette.”
My lips tipped up at the corners, remembering our trip to Adult World in Boston. It had been fun shocking Zoe. The best part had been when her cell phone had vibrated next to Katy’s Barbie microphone, the whole congregation had gasped, thinking she’d brought Snaky to the Sunday service. I giggled.
That had been priceless.
“Well, it never would have happened if you guys hadn’t bought me the ridiculous two-headed monstrosity.” Zoe’s face paled. “Like I would ever use that even when you all thought I needed one, which I didn’t by the way.”
“She’s still in denial.” Morti laughed.
“I’m not in denial. I’m the only smart one to know that thing is just plain freaky.” Zoe shuddered. “Besides, now I have Chaz who doesn’t need any help in thoroughly satisfying me, thank the Lord.”
I actually laughed out loud over that one. “And thank you all for cheering me up.” I smiled at each of them. “I don’t know what I’d do without any of you, so please don’t go MIA on me anytime soon. I can’t handle any more change in my life right now.”
“Can you handle me?” said a male voice behind me, and my stomach dropped down to my black patent leather toes.
What the hell was he doing here?
Inhaling deep, I willed all my anxiety to form in my lungs, and then exhaled the stress on a long slow breath. Thank God for yoga, meditation, and massage. Pasting on a neutral expression, I turned around and looked down my nose at the dark-haired, dark-eyed scum bucket behind me.
Still as handsome as ever, but pure ugliness resided within.
“Bud Grant, what on earth are you doing here?” Thank God for two-inch heels. My ex-husband was only five-foot-eleven when he stood up straight and wasn’t trying to fake a bad back. Being six feet with my shoes on put me at least one inch above him.
At this point, I would take any advantage I could get.
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, darling. I am your husband, after all.” The corner of his weasel lip hitched up, and I knew he was playing me like he played all women, making me wonder all over again why the hell I had married him in the first place.
“ Ex , ” I finally said in disgust. “I certainly pay you enough money each month for you to be a kept man; but trust me, doll, I threw you out five years ago, and I’ve never been fond of seconds.” He was up to something. There was no way he would just randomly show up for Grammy’s funeral to pay his respects.
The question was what exactly did he want?
“You’ve never been fond of siblings, either,” my twin sister, Tabatha, said in a sarcastic tone from beside me.
She wore black jeans, sneakers, and a t-shirt. We were identical, but we were nothing alike. I was white diamonds and expensive champagne. She was white gemstones and cheap beer. It wouldn’t have mattered one bit to me, but she was the one who had turned up her nose whenever she was in my presence.
I slowly turned to look beyond her, dreading what I knew I would see. Sure enough my biological parents, Charlie and Rita Scott, stood behind Tabatha…the twin they had kept. They claimed they couldn’t afford to keep both of us back then, since my mom cleaned houses and my dad was a beer vender.
They’d said it was only temporary, and they would come back for me some day. But once I went to live with my grandmother, they’d never looked back. Grammy had disowned Rita, disapproving of her marriage to Charlie and the fact that they had abandoned their own child. So, I took Grammy’s last name and did the same by never looking back.
I’d be damned if I’d start now.
“The only sisters I have are my best friends.” Zoe, Morti, and Harm flanked my sides without hesitation, the way I knew they would. “What do you want?”
“We just want to be here for you in your time of need.” My mother’s tone sounded oddly sincere, as she smoothed her short, golden blonde hair back and lowered her periwinkle blue eyes, so similar to Tabatha’s and mine.
I could tell she was nervous, and maybe a little sad, but I didn’t let that get to me. She’d had her chance, and I had to stay strong for Grammy. I wrinkled my nose to keep the tears at bay. “Right. Like you’ve been there for me for the past forty years?”
“Hey, we can’t help it your grandmother never let us see you,” my father chimed in defensively, giving me a disapproving look for upsetting my mother.
“Oh, don’t even go there, Charlie.” I refused to call him Dad. “Like you even tried to be a part of my life. You pretty much wrote me off the day she took me in. Can you blame her for writing you three off now?” Grammy had made it clear before she died that they were all cut out of her will.
“They did try. Many times, in fact. You’re just too blind to see it.” Tabatha looked at me with disgust. “I told you guys this was pointless.”
“Tabatha, don’t,” my mother said softly. “She’s been through a lot.”
Tabatha threw up her hands. “Like we haven’t?” She gave me a look of pure resentment and then stormed off.
A weird feeling swept through my stomach, but I pushed it down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I know is I never would have made it without Grammy, and I won’t let you or anyone else take that away from me.”
“I’m so sorry.” My mother choked back a sob and then fled the church.
My father stared at me with a frustrated, helpless look. He rubbed his slightly pudgy beer gut, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I know you don’t believe this right now, but I’m sorry, too. All we ever wanted was the best for you, and we’ve never stopped loving you. From the moment you were born, we knew you were destined for great things. Things only your grandmother could provide.”
“That’s right.” I raised my chin a notch. “She did provide for me, and I owe her everything. Not any of you. I don’t owe you a dime.”
“And I’m not asking for one. I didn’t deserve your mother, and I didn’t deserve you. I hope one day you’ll come to realize the sacrifice we made and finally learn the truth. We don’t care that your Grammy cut us out of her will. We’re here for you.” And with that, he turned and walked away, looking as though he had the weight of the world on his weary shoulders. His buzzed, balding brown head hung low, and his faded brown eyes stared at the floor.
“Yeah. What they said. I’m here for you, darling,” Bud chimed in from beside me, looking anything but sincere.
“You’re so fake,” I managed to get out. “You make me sick.”
He leaned in and didn’t bother pretending anymore. “And you’re so rich, you make me horny.” He grabbed his crotch and leered at me. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer, sweetcakes. With my bad back, I’m thinking you owe me more money every month…now that you’re rolling in it.”
“And you’re a pig.” I clenched my fists before I did something stupid and turned around to my friends. “You guys ready to go? I think I’ve had about enough for one day.”
No words were necessary as they hooked my arms and led me out of the church. Just before we walked out the doors, I glanced one last time at my grandmother’s casket and tripped over my own feet.
Matt McGinnis stood staring down at Grammy, saying some sort of prayer over her. Then he stepped away but halted when he saw me. He gave me such a sincere look of sympathy and understanding and regret, that I was more tempted than I’d ever been to throw caution to the wind and hurl myself into his arms. One quick glance at my ex reminded me of exactly why I would never do that.
My heart was much more fragile than anyone knew.