Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Molly
I punch my pillow for the third time and throw off my covers. It’s too hot in here. Or maybe I just miss lying next to Bobby. Either way, it’s been an hour and a half, and I’m clearly not falling back asleep, so I get out of bed and pad to the kitchen with my phone. The screen reads 4:02.
I lay my bill folder and checkbook on the kitchen table and switch on the coffee maker, turning on only enough light so I can read. May as well use my insomnia to be productive. With the commission from my biggest sale this year in the bank now, I can finally afford the dishwasher repair and even add something extra to my retirement account and Matty’s college fund.
We’re set to close on Bobby’s new house next week, but I refuse to count my chickens on that one before they hatch. Because that commission is going to be huge. Sure, Coco gets her cut, but my measly 3% is still going to be three times this latest one. Just one more thing I owe Bobby for.
Maude and Jason shared plenty of smug looks when they found out Bobby chose a house in a lower price bracket than they expected, but I ignored them the best I could. The house is perfect for Bobby, and that’s all I care about.
I sift through the bills and see one for Blake’s gym membership, so I do what I always do. Take a photo and text it to him. I swear I’ll still be getting mail for him at this house in ten years.
When my phone vibrates on the table, I glance at it to see Blake calling me.
“Hey, what are you doing up?” I ask as soon as I accept the call.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” His voice is scratchy.
“Oh, haven’t I told you about the wonderful new midlife gift Mother Nature has bestowed on me? Insomnia. Every freaking morning at 2:36am for some reason.”
“Damn, that sucks. You used to sleep like a rock.”
“Those were the days. But seriously, why are you awake? You never go to sleep until at least two.”
“We got a dog.”
“You got a dog? You, who travels half the year?” I smile into the phone.
“Okay, Luke got a dog. A puppy. And the damn thing has to go outside to pee every hour, I swear. I’m standing outside in my pajama pants right now.”
The visual makes me snicker quietly. We used to have a rabbit way back when, but Blake always swore dogs were too much trouble and expense. I guess it goes to show how your mind can change on a lot of things when love is part of the equation.
“I’m surprised Matty didn’t say anything. He’s been home for three days.”
“We just got Posey on Monday.”
Now I’m outright laughing. “Posey?”
“Don’t start.” I hear him pull the phone from his mouth. “Go potty. Go on,” he coaxes the dog.
I mimic zipping my lips even though he can’t see me.
“So, I hear from Matthew you’re still dating that hockey player?”
“Yeah.”
“Hm.”
“What does ‘hm’ mean?”
“Nothing. I just...I don’t know. I didn’t really realize it was going to be a thing.”
“A thing?”
“Yeah, you know. A relationship.” When I don’t respond, he takes that as permission to continue. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought...because he’s so much...younger...” he trails off.
“How old is Luke?”
“Forty-three. Why?”
“Well, since we’re making a thing out of the age of my significant other, I figured I should know Luke’s too.”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. You’ve got to acknowledge the age gap is a little worrying, though, right? When I was that age, I felt like I was still a kid in a lot of ways.”
“We were pregnant with Matty at his age. Hardly kids.”
“Don’t you remember how clueless we were?”
“Every first-time parent is clueless, Blake.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I just don’t want you—or Matty—getting attached and then ending up hurt. That’s all. I love you guys and don’t like seeing either one of you in pain. Matty talks about Bobby all the time. Maybe taking things a little slower would be better where he’s concerned? Just in case?”
Shit.
“Blake, I know this is coming from a place of love, and I’ll really give the Matty thing some thought. But Bobby and I are doing great—just like you and Luke and Posey, I’m assuming.”
“Luke is gonna kick my ass when he hears about this conversation.”
“Take your dog inside and go back to bed, Blake. We’ll talk later.”
I hang up and stand from my chair, phone gripped tightly in my hand as I start to pace the laminate wood flooring. It’s still pitch black outside, and the wind whips the end of a tree branch against a nearby window, causing a shrieking sound. I need to trim that thing before I start having nightmares about vampires or Freddy Krueger.
Blake's words play back in my mind. Matty talks about Bobby all the time . I’m sure it’s not easy as Matty’s dad to hear him going on about another adult male figure. Maybe that’s where it came from? Or is he right? Am I setting Matty up for heartbreak by diving into this relationship with a twenty-eight-year-old man and just assuming things will work out? If I let myself stop and be my usual practical self, I can admit the odds are not in my favor.
Guys get hotter and more virile in their thirties and even forties, as unfair as that is. When Bobby is thirty-eight, I’ll be fifty. He’ll be Captain America and I’ll be Driving Miss Daisy.
Nope. I can’t think about this or the next thing you know, I’ll be spooning Ben and Jerry’s into my face while tearfully examining every wrinkle and gray hair in the mega-magnification makeup mirror I pretend I don’t own.
I consider texting Ramona to see if she’s awake and able to talk me off this ledge. But I’m not up to date on her current schedule since I’ve been around less than usual. Shit. Am I being a bad friend and a bad mother?
No. Ramona is thrilled for me. In fact, she said just the other day that she’s living vicariously through me since, as she put it, I’m in my “honeymoon phase” with Bobby and haven’t reached her and Amir’s era of scheduling sex dates on their calendars so they don’t forget to bang.
Blake and I never did that. We just stopped having sex altogether—understandably, in hindsight. I guess I’ve never actually been in a normal sexual relationship as an adult. Bobby and I have a sex life so active it’s downright exhausting at times, but Ramona has a point. It can’t always be this way. And then what happens when the attraction goes from rampant lust to more of a slow burn? Bobby does not strike me as a slow-burn kind of guy.
I lift my phone and scroll to my text thread with Bobby, rereading the last message he sent last night.
Bobby: I’ll see you at Matthew’s game tomorrow. Call me when you get up. I like hearing your voice to start my day.
The tightness in my shoulders melts and I smile down at the phone. What am I doing getting all worked up about some random comments? Maybe I need to have my head examined. Or maybe I just need a good night’s sleep.
“Honestly, I consider it a win that nobody cried,” Coach Chloe says as we stand rinkside while the kids all head to the locker rooms. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you what a great kid Matthew is. He’s been so much fun to coach.”
“Thank you. I’m so glad.”
“Nikolai says we should try him at goalie, but I said I’d mention it to you before I let him talk to Matthew. I figured you might have visions of teeth scattering to the ice like Chiclets.” She cocks her head. “Do they even make those anymore?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m sure none of these kids would have heard of them anyway.”
Chloe shrugs. “And . . . now I want gum.”
I smile. “Let me think about the goalie thing. I’m saving up for braces, but not for fake teeth just yet.”
Bobby skates up and comes to a stop, throwing snow at the boards before propping his hands on the door to the ice. “What are you two talking about? Forns’s new tattoo? I told him not to get my name inked over his heart, but he said he had to live his truth.”
“What is wrong with you?” I laugh and shake his arm. He catches my hand and brings it to his lips with a sexy smirk. What a ham.
“I’m assuming lead poisoning as a child,” Chloe responds. “If only we’d known not to drink out of the garden hose as kids.”
Bobby releases my hand and turns to Chloe. “Uh, first of all, I am in excellent health—nay, perfect health. And second, how did you not know not to drink out of the garden hose as a kid? There were warning labels all over the place?”
Chloe and I look at each other. “No there weren’t,” we say in unison.
“I’m pretty sure I drank more water from the hose than the tap as a kid,” I say with a grin.
Banks Bennet approaches from behind us. “Yo, Roadie. Kaitlyn is looking for you.”
“Hey, Benny,” Bobby greets his teammate with a chin lift. “Did you drink out of the garden hose when you were a kid?”
Banks considers the question for maybe a nanosecond. “Of course. Everybody did. Except these two kids down the street whose parents were scientists.” He rubs his chin between a thumb and forefinger and smiles his movie-star smile. “Probably should have given that a little thought.”
Bobby frowns, propping his hands on his hips and scanning the entire rink as if looking for an assist. He opens his mouth to respond and then shuts it again before finally exhaling and settling on a quiet, “Never mind.”
Chloe rolls her eyes. “It took him this long to realize we’re all elder Millennials and he’s a Gen Z-er,” she says with a laugh.
Banks joins her, but I can only blink as her comment registers in my brain.
Bobby throws his hands up. “I’m a Millennial too! Well, depending on what chart you look at.” he protests.
But my head is starting to spin because I just realized my child and my boyfriend are from the same generation. What madness is this?
“I’m surprised you haven’t brushed up more on Gen X since that’s your preferred dating pool, Rhodes,” Banks jokes.
I notice Chloe kick his shin.
“Ow!” Banks bends over to rub his leg.
“You looking for a fight, Benny?” Bobby postures with his arms out, but his tone is joking. “I was gonna save it for the Titans but I’m ready if you wanna go.”
My mind continues to whirl as I take in the action around me in what feels like a blurred alternate reality. Bobby is known for dating older women? I mean, I know that dating app was for younger men and older women, but I didn’t realize he has an actual reputation for it. I just assumed he didn’t like to concern himself with age. Not that he’s had a parade of geriatric women just like me.
Am I . . . a joke to people?
Kaitlyn sweeps into the circle, a fussing Mei in her arms. “Bobby, I need a word about a new charity for you since your breast obsession ruined the last one,” she says over the baby’s intensifying whimpering.
“Hand her over.” Bobby thrusts his arms over the closed rink door toward Kaitlyn. “Let Uncle Bobby have a crack at it.”
Kaitlyn hands Mei over, blanket and all. “Oh, thank god.”
I blink a few more times and refocus, pasting a good-natured smile on my lips even though I feel like crying. Or screaming.
Bobby skates backward from the door, cradling the baby in his arms and making faces at her. As soon as his skates start moving, she stops fussing.
“Aha!” Kaitlyn says. “Skating calms her down this week! Hot Shot, we’re moving into the practice facility.” She pats Banks on the chest.
We all turn to watch Bobby continue skating and talking to Mei. Something cracks in my chest when his head pops up and his mouth spreads in a huge smile, both dimples on display. “She smiled at me! For real this time! Not just farts.”
“Aww,” Chloe gushes. “Okay, my turn!”
“What do you say we slip away and take a nap?” Kaitlyn asks Banks. “They’ve got it under control here.”
Bobby glides closer, never taking his eyes off baby Mei’s face. A baby just smiled at him for the first time. I’ve had a million and one baby smiles, and I cherish each one. I’ve had a marriage. I’ve changed jobs a dozen times. Started a new career. Had a mortgage for fifteen years—reached that halfway point on the thirty-year loan. I’ve raised a human. I’m raising a human. So that he’ll have confidence and security and freedom to start his life. Matty’s got his whole life ahead of him.
And so does Bobby.
Unless this geriatric ball and chain gets in his way.