Thirteen Months Ago
A spring storm had dislodged a large branch from the maple tree in the Allards’ yard, sending it onto Tori’s roof, where it hung precariously like a loose tooth that might fall at any moment.
Branch might be too weak a word, Tori decided.
It was more like a limb. At least five feet long, thick and gnarled.
And when the wind blew, it swayed, threatening to dive onto her back patio.
It wasn’t safe. Tori knew that much. Autumn had said that she didn’t want to go out in the backyard with Leo until it had been removed. She had made that comment after Tori had done nothing about the dangling limb for a full day.
“Are you going to call your landlord about the branch?” Autumn had asked on Friday when Tori came home from work. “Because it’s really dangerous.”
“Oh, yes,” Tori had lied. “They’re sending someone this weekend.”
“Oh good.” Autumn was clearly relieved. “I was worried you were just like waiting for it to fall.”
After Autumn had left that Friday for the weekend, and her ex had picked up Leo, Tori had curled up in her bathtub with a bottle of wine and cried.
She was not a good mother. She didn’t know things that other people knew.
She needed a twenty-two-year-old to tell her that she was endangering her own child.
The next afternoon, after the rain had died down, Tori put on boots, grabbed a rake, and went out to the backyard to see what she could do.
She was not a handy person. Her ex was just as bad.
When they had lived together, it was in a modern luxury building on the edge of Kalorama, a building that had its own doorman, gym, and even a tagline: Where prestige meets panache.
Between the two of them they had owned one Phillips-head screwdriver.
Help was only a phone call away. Daniel had come to her rescue a few weeks ago—so why did she hesitate to call him?
She knew why. She wanted them to be social equals. Friends, if you could be friends with someone else’s husband. She didn’t want to constantly remind him that she was a renter, or even worse, that she wasn’t the one signing the rent checks, her ex was. It was all so embarrassing.
Still, she couldn’t risk endangering Leo, so she shot Daniel a cheery text about the tree limb.
In the front of the house, the small patch of grass that passed for the front yard was covered in a carpet of twigs and fresh green leaves, blown down by the wind. She focused on raking a pile of fallen twigs and leaves. It was hard work. Everything was wet and clung to the tines of her rake.
She was so absorbed in her task that she didn’t see the car pull up in front of her house, nor did she see Daniel get out and pull a trash can from the trunk of his SUV.
It wasn’t until he was rolling the can up her walkway that she looked up, startled, and took in what was happening. He truly was her Schneider. He had come back. Tori was so touched, she felt tears spring to her eyes. “You bought that for me?”
“No big deal.” Daniel shrugged off her gratitude. “I was at Home Depot. I noticed on trash day you still had the cracked one.”
“I didn’t get around to replacing it.” She knew that the combination of her bright smile and wet eyes must look odd.
He was going to think she was nuts. She couldn’t think of a more thoughtful gift she’d received any time in her life.
She pictured him at Home Depot, walking through the wide aisles as he stopped and thought of her.
She existed in his mind. The thought was like a drug to her.
He frowned. “You okay?”
“Sure, I think it’s the pollen.”
“In May?”
“I’m just overwhelmed with the storm cleanup. A branch landed on my roof. Did you see my text?”
He shook his head no. “Show me.”
She took him into the back, where he assessed the situation and told her to sit tight. Less than fifteen minutes later, he had returned and was propping a metal extension ladder against the back of her house and climbing it.
She wasn’t going to deny that the view was good. Seeing a strong, sexy man mount a ladder without hesitation. This was what Leo needed—a strong man to emulate, not a narcissist, like her ex, who only thought about himself.
“Move out of the way!” The command came from the roof, and Tori scurried to the far end of the property. Daniel heaved the limb, which went flying like a missile onto the concrete, splintering into pieces.
Tori clapped her hands together like a little girl who just saw a magician make a beautiful woman disappear. “Yay! Thank you so much!”
Once he had climbed down, he examined the wreckage strewn across the patio. “Now we have to get rid of this thing.”
For the next half an hour, she served as his helper as he sawed the large branch into smaller bits, which she carried out to the lawn-and-leaf bin.
It was dark by the time they finished. It was getting dark later these days.
Just like the tulips pushing out of the ground, she felt something within her awaken and push forth.
Then she caught herself. This was a married man, a father.
Surely he would head for home now, to his wife, his children, his dog.
Was it so wrong that she wanted him to stay, even for just a little while longer?
“I should have moved into an apartment when I got divorced,” Tori said, twisting a lock of hair around one finger.
She didn’t need to tell him that her ex had picked this place out, had rented it in his name, and was paying for it.
He knew. “I thought by moving into a brand-new house that I wouldn’t run into any problems, but I feel like there’s a new problem every week.
And I literally don’t know what to do. It’s just me and sometimes it’s so overwhelming.
Sorry, I’m rambling. I’m just out of sorts when my kid isn’t here. And I’m all by myself.”
“What kind of things are going wrong in the house?” he asked. “Jo thinks of everything. This was her pet project.”
Tori winced at the mention of Jo. Jo, who was out the door each day at the crack of dawn in some color-coordinated athleisure wear, off to some class to sweat away that one extra pound.
Jo, who didn’t lift a finger all day as workers tramped in and out of the house, cleaning her toilets, trimming the hedges, even washing that damn dog in a mobile grooming van.
“Where to start?” Tori asked brightly. “My folding door that hides the washer-dryer is off the track. I’ve tried getting it back on the track, but it’s really heavy. ”
He held up a palm. “Say no more. Let me take a look at it.”
“Really? I mean, it’s Saturday evening, I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“Believe it or not, I don’t. I’m on my own this weekend. I’d just be at home watching the Nats, drinking a beer.”
“Well, if you don’t mind.”
Once inside, she watched as he stretched his arms to wipe the sweat from his face and his T-shirt rode up, revealing a treasure trail of hair leading down to the waistband of his jeans.
A lump formed in her throat. Funny how her taste in men had changed over the years.
She used to like them pretty, like her ex, with his long eyelashes and full lips.
Now that she was a mom, she found herself drawn to more masculine guys.
She led him into the laundry room and watched as he fixed the door in less than five minutes.
“Easy,” he said, opening and closing the doors.
“You deserve a beer for all your hard work,” she said. “I also have some leftover grilled chicken salad. Homemade.” She didn’t mention that Autumn had made it, that she herself had never grilled a chicken in her life.
An hour later they were on the sofa in the living room, dirty plates on the coffee table and soft music coming through hidden speakers in the ceiling.
It wasn’t lost on her that his wife was the one who had designed the seamless sound system.
Designed the whole room, in fact. It felt subversive and exciting to be enjoying Jo’s pet project with her husband.
Tori drank from her third beer. She was feeling it, and the conversation had started to get real.
“I thought he would change once we were married. Stop staying late at the office, be more attentive, kinder,” Tori said.
“And then again when I was pregnant, and again when I gave birth. I kept thinking the next life stage would change him, make him a family man, but it never did. He just got worse.”
“Funny. I have a similar but opposite experience, if that makes sense.” He put his beer bottle down and leaned back.
“I’ve been married more than twenty years, but sometimes I don’t recognize my wife at all.
You say your husband never changed. Well, my wife changed dramatically.
We used to have a more simple life. But money changes people. ” He paused and looked down. “Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? I told you about my ex. Sometimes you need someone to talk to.” Tell me more, she wanted to yell.
How had Jo changed? She was dying to know.
It was impossible to imagine her landlady as anything other than the wax figurine of a power wife she was now. “It can get lonely in the suburbs.”
“You’re really easy to talk to, you know. I haven’t done this in a long time, just sit and talk. Listen to music. This reminds me of being young. I miss that feeling. Do you know what I mean?”
She nodded. “I do, like you’re at the beginning of your life and anything could happen.”
“Exactly.” He sat up, as if just remembering something. “I apologize. I shouldn’t—”
“Don’t. You don’t need to apologize for anything. You can say anything to me, and I won’t judge.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I better get going.” But he didn’t.
“I think you’re amazing. Warm and smart and kind and really handy around the house.” She knew men liked to hear words like this, and they came tumbling out from somewhere deep and unconscious.
He cocked his head and looked at her.
Tori touched the edge of his T-shirt sleeve. “And very sexy.”
His dark brown eyes held her gaze for a moment, and she could even see through the fog of alcohol that they were teetering on the precipice of something.
The little monsters in her head screamed, Do it, do it!
The desire she saw in his eyes intoxicated her, flooding her senses.
She wanted to be washed away by what was in those eyes.
Tori leaned in to kiss him, and her lips met with his. Leaning into the kiss, she let her hand rest on his thigh, giving it a light squeeze. As soon as she did, he yanked his head back.
“What are you doing?”
Baffled, Tori let out a nervous laugh. But there was no mistaking the look on his face—it was one of revulsion. He stood up abruptly.
“I better go.” He grabbed his phone off the table.
“Are you angry?” Tori stood as well. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought…”
“Angry? No.” His eyes danced around the room, unable to meet hers. “You misunderstood. I said yes to dinner because you seemed so lonely, so sad. I felt sorry for you.”
His words were like a smack to her chest, making her breath catch. “You felt sorry for me?”
“You couldn’t possibly have thought…” A small smile played on his lips. He brushed imaginary dust off his pants. “A man like me? With someone like you? C’mon.” He let out a light laugh. “Ridiculous.”
As soon as she heard the door shut, Tori collapsed onto the sofa, her whole body trembling, in shock.
Had she imagined their chemistry? Or was it some kind of sick joke on his part?
The change had been so abrupt, the transformation so complete, that she was reeling.
She sat frozen, her chest aching, like when she held her breath too long underwater.
If she opened her mouth to breathe, she was sure she would die.
If she just stayed still, maybe the tsunami of shame would pass by.
She pictured Daniel recounting this story to Jo, to his friends.
A funny little anecdote, with her cast as the desperate, lonely divorcée who tried to seduce him.
How they would all laugh. How amusing they would find it.
The monsters in her head chatted away. You’ll be the laughingstock of Eastbrook, a running joke.
She held her hands to her ears to block out the noise.
No. She wasn’t going to be anyone’s punch line. If only there was a way to hit first.