Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Sophie
I stood at the stove, carefully flipping chicken strips in the hot oil. After turning the last perfectly golden piece, I picked up a towel and wiped my hands before sitting back at my laptop. Normally I write in my office when I’m on deadline, but since I’m multi-tasking, the kitchen island is where I’m at today.
I’m really excited about getting certified as a pole instructor, but testing couldn’t have come at a worse time. My current work in progress is due in two weeks so every hour counts. The four days I’ll be dedicating to pole are going to mess up my normal writing pace, so I’m trying to get as many words on the page as possible before I leave in a couple days.
After reading the last paragraph I wrote to get back into the story, I started typing. Thankfully the words are flowing today and I got another scene written before I had to stop to finish cooking dinner.
The chicken looks done, so I removed it, one piece at a time from the oil, placing each on a rack to drain before moving them to a platter. I just got done doing that when the oven timer went off. I slid on a pair of oven mitts, pulled the mac and cheese out, and set it on the counter, then slid in the broccoli I’d prepped earlier
My son Tyler walked through the door, his backpack slung over one shoulder.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Aren’t you going to close the door?”
“No, Dad’s coming in.”
He’d just uttered the sentence when my ex-husband Rob walked through the door.
“I could smell the chicken strips outside,” he said. “I was on the phone with a client and my mouth was watering during the whole conversation.”
“So you decided to come in and steal a piece?” I asked as he reached toward the platter.
He hummed as he chewed.
“One piece is never enough.”
“Is dinner ready?” Tyler asked. “I’m starving.”
“I just have to get the broccoli out of the oven,” I said, then looked at Rob. “You’re welcome to stay if you don’t have any plans.”
“Thanks, I think I’ll take you up on that. Dad’s not home tonight, so I was just going to grab takeout.”
I set the broccoli on the counter next to the mac and cheese then grabbed some serving utensils. We filled our plates and the three of us settled around the table.
Tyler took a picture of his plate and his fingers flew over the screen before he set his phone down.
“I sent a picture to Bobby to make him jealous,” he said then dug in.
“Your brother has his pick of restaurants at Penn State, so I’m sure he’s having something just as good,” I said.
“Doubt it,” Tyler said as he shoveled a forkful of mac and cheese into his mouth.
This meal is a family favorite and it works well with our crazy schedules because it tastes just as good reheated.
Our son filled his plate a second time then headed to the living room to watch one of his favorite sports shows. When the kids were younger, we were pretty strict about keeping food in the kitchen, but now anything goes.
“Where are the girls?” Rob asked.
“Courtney is probably at school and Emily is working until nine.”
“It’s definitely different these days,” he said.
“That is a true statement.”
We had four children in six years, so the house was always full of chaos. Our table was usually packed, not only with our own kids, but with their cousins and friends as well. Now we’re like ships passing in the night most of the time.
As hectic and sleep-deprived as those days were, I miss them. I’m doing my best to stay active as I slowly move into the empty nest phase of my life, but if I could, I’d go back to those busy, yet somehow simpler times.
“How’s your dad doing?” I asked.
“Okay. He’s finally settling into a routine instead of just vegging in front of the TV.”
My mother-in-law…make that, ex-mother-in-law…passed away last March and Rob’s dad was having a really hard time. So much so that Rob moved in with him in May.
“I’m sure you being there has helped.”
“Mmm.” He finished chewing a chicken strip and swallowed. “I’m sure I drive him as crazy as he drives me sometimes, but I think we’re finally getting used to living with each other as adults.”
I love my parents, but I can’t imagine living under the same roof with them again. Especially my mom. She’s a total neat freak and doesn’t understand how I can go to sleep if the floors haven’t been swept or there are dishes in the sink. I’m not a total slob, but she makes me feel like one.
“You must be on a deadline,” Rob said, nodding toward my open laptop on the island.
“Yeah, I’m in my usual time crunch and this pole certification has made that even tighter. But I’ll get it done.” I blew out a breath. “Who needs sleep, right?”
“Why don’t you extend your trip and make it a little private writing retreat?”
I looked over at him and blinked.
“I didn’t even think about doing that.”
“I can hold down the fort here.” He chuckled. “Not that there’s a whole lot to hold down these days, but at least I’ll be here to make sure the kids don’t use the house as party central.”
Rob has always been the biggest supporter of my writing. Being an author was always my dream, so when our local library hosted a “Write Your Book in 12 Weeks” class, I signed up. Since we had three kids under the age of five and I was pregnant with Tyler, he could have told me I was crazy. Instead, he made sure he was home by six o’clock on Tuesdays and Thursdays for those twelve weeks and kicked me out of the house every Sunday morning to go write in a coffee shop.
Sometimes when I remember things like that, I wonder why we got divorced. Lord knows life would be much easier if we hadn’t. But we’d had our reasons, and we’re in a good place now.
“Thanks, both for the suggestion and holding down the fort,” I said. “And for always being supportive of my crazy career.”
He placed his fork on his empty plate and smiled.
“Your crazy career put you on multiple bestseller lists and has been pretty damn lucrative.”
“I couldn’t have done any of it without your support and I want you to know how much I appreciate it.”
“I know,” he said. “And I wouldn’t have been able to start my business without your support, so we’re even.”
We stared into each other’s eyes for several heartbeats. Part of me wished there was something there, but those sexy feelings left our relationship a long time ago. Instead, shared history flowed between us, with an underlying happiness that we’ve made it to the other side of the divorce as friends.
Breaking the bittersweet moment, I stood and walked over to my laptop.
“I’m going to see if I can extend my Airbnb a few days.”
Once the pole certification is over, I’ll be able to focus on finishing my book with no distractions.
Jamie
I leaned against the shopping cart watching Elliott as he studied the lighting fixtures with a critical eye. We’ve been in this aisle for well over an hour and I’m trying my best not to freak out. But seriously, how long does it take to pick out a light fixture? From what I can tell, he has it narrowed down to three. But that’s been the case for at least a half hour.
A few more minutes ticked by and I blew out a breath, then straightened and dragged my fingers through my hair. Elliott glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. I raised my brows.
“What?” he asked, turning his full attention to me.
“Can you just pick one?”
“I want to make sure it fits the new aesthetic.”
Which is why we’re here in the first place. Elliott decided that the old plug covers and light fixtures didn’t match the new paint. I thought they looked fine, but he didn’t listen to my opinion, even though he asked for it.
“It’s nearly four o’clock, and I want to hit that open house on the way back to the studio.”
“What time does that end?”
“Five,” I said, even though I’d already told him at least three times.
He looked back at the fixtures and tilted his head back and forth.
“I think I can take that one out of the running,” he said, pointing toward a funky polished brass chandelier.
So now we’re down to two, and honestly, either of them will work. Then again, in my opinion, the one that’s at the studio looks fine. But Elliott is a perfectionist and I know there’s no use rushing him. It will only make double work for me later when he wants it changed again.
I heard a buzz and groaned out loud when Elliott pulled his phone out of his pocket to
check it.
“It’s Josh.”
When Elliott first went out with Josh Sloane, it was pretty obvious that it was going to be different from his other relationships. And five years later, they’re still going strong. The smile on Elliott’s face from a simple text message says it all.
I rounded the cart and double-checked that we have everything else we need. It looks like we’re good. There should even be extra of everything, especially the strip lights. But I’d rather that than being short and having to come back.
Elliott bumped me in the side with the box he held with an awkward grip.
“Ready?” he asked as he dropped it into the cart.
I nodded then pushed the cart behind Elliott as he power walked down the aisle and toward checkout. He groaned when he saw the lines at both open registers.
“You took forever picking out things, and now you’re in a hurry?”
“I didn’t take forever.”
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
He rolled his eyes then turned his attention to the customer at the register who was questioning the scanned price of two items. Crossing his arms over his chest he impatiently tapped his foot.
“Great.”
“Why are you suddenly in such a hurry?”
“Some of Josh’s meetings got cancelled, so he’s coming home tonight.”
Another big smile. If I was interested in having a relationship, I might be jealous.
“Just make sure you come up for air in time to get to class tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be there.” His mouth twisted into a pout. “I’m thrilled he’s coming home early, but the timing really stinks.”
Josh is in tech sales and while he doesn’t travel often, when he does, he’s gone for two or three weeks at a time. And during those times, whenever Elliott isn’t at the pole studio, he mopes around and drives me crazy.
A new register opened, and I managed to step up to it before anyone else. Within minutes, we were checked out, in my truck, and headed to the open house.
“How long will we be here?” Elliott asked as we climbed the steps.
“Not long.” I opened the door and smiled back at him. “About as long as we were at the hardware store.”
“Very funny,” he said in one breath and in the next added, “Ooh, I smell cookies.”
I took my time looking around the entryway and living room while Elliott followed the scent of sweet treats toward the kitchen.
The real estate agent approached and handed me a show sheet.
“Hi, I’m Judy Barnes.”
I took her offered hand and shook it.
“Jamie Dunne.”
“Oh, it’s nice to meet you in person.”
The agent I’ve dealt with for two decades retired last year and recommended Judy.
She’s been emailing me listings, but this is the first one that caught my eye.
“Nice to meet you too.”
It took her a little too long to release my hand, and when she did, I took two steps back and looked around at the space.
“You mentioned it needs a new roof. How’s the basement?”
She blinked and looked at me blankly for a moment, then shook her head and shifted into professional mode.
“It’s partly finished and dry,” she said. “And the foundation is sound.”
“Any other major issues I should know about?”
“No, most of the work will be cosmetic. It hasn’t been updated since the seventies.”
A young couple walked through the front door and I thanked her, then took the opportunity to excuse myself. I went upstairs and quickly checked out the four bedrooms and two bathrooms before making my way to the kitchen, where Elliott was sitting at the island eating a chocolate chip cookie.
Before I could ask if he was ready to go, Judy approached.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I’ll pass on this one.” I looked around at the outdated kitchen. “But you got a good turnout, so hopefully someone will bite.”
I took the business card she offered even though we’ve been emailing and texting for months now.
“I’ll keep scouring the listings for you. In the meantime, let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”
“Will do. Thanks.” I glanced at Elliott. “Ready?”
“I am if you are.” He slipped into his jacket. “Thanks for the cookies Judy. They’re
delicious.”
“Anytime,” she said.
I took one last look around the living room and foyer before walking out the front door and down the steps of the brownstone. I’d gotten a parking spot right in front so we didn’t have far to walk.
“She’s cute,” Elliott said as I started the truck.
“Who?”
“Judy.” He laughed at my answering shrug. “Are you so far out of the game that you
don’t even notice women anymore? I mean, I play for the other team and noticed both her appeal and the fact that she was not-so-subtly flirting with you.” Elliott must have gotten the hint when I didn’t answer and he changed the subject. “You’re not putting an offer on that house?”
“No, there’s too much work to do. It would be a good rental, but I’m looking for a flip.”
I sold off all my rental properties two years ago. Even with a property manager, they were more of a hassle than I wanted to deal with.
Elliott’s phone buzzed and he didn’t immediately answer.
“How long do you think we’ll be at the studio?” he eventually asked.
“A few hours. Why?”
“Josh’s plane is landing at seven-thirty. I was just wondering if I’d be able to pick him up.”
It’s almost five now, so there’s no way in hell we’ll get everything done at the studio in time for him to make it to JFK by then. That’s what I should tell him, but it’s not what came out of my mouth.
“Tell Josh you’ll be there to get him.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his smile as his fingers flew over the screen. He was so engrossed in making sweet talk with Josh, he didn’t notice that I wasn’t driving toward the studio. Instead, I pulled up in front of his building ten minutes later.
He finally looked up from his phone when I stopped the truck.
“What are we doing here?”
“I’ll finish up at the studio. You enjoy your night with Josh.”
“Are you sure? I can come help until I have to leave for the airport.”
“No, go make yourself pretty. I’m good.”
A slow smile spread across his face.
“Thanks Jamie.”
“See, I’m not grumpy all the time.”
“No, you’re not.” He reached for the handle and opened the door. “But you’re a good guy, and I still think you’d be happier if you had a special lady in your life.”
Before I could comment, he hopped out of the truck and slammed the door shut. I’m good at many things, but love isn’t one of them. I’ve tried and failed over and over again. Now I’m content just being alone.