Page 61 of Midlife Crisis

Midge closes her eyes while my fingers work to loosen the tension in her neck.

“You can’t do that,” Ronin interjects. “She might not like you back.” Elston snorts and returns his attention to his phone.

“Then again, she might like you back.” I glance at Ronin a moment before turning to his mother. Her eyes remain shut.

“I don’t even like any of the girls at my school,” Liam interjects. Ronin coughs, and Elston mutters something under his breath.

“Don’t say that,” Midge reprimands Elston, and then turns to Liam. “That’s right, honey. No girls for you yet. You’re too young.”

“I kissed my first girl at eleven,” Elston adds, portraying false bravado.

“Triple gold stars for you,” Ronin snaps, rolling his eyes at his older brother.

“Who?” Midge asks, her attention on her firstborn.

“Maggie Schuster.”

“What?” Midge laughs while Ronin says, “Why?”

“Because she wanted me to,” Elston says nonchalantly, but something in his tone hints he wanted to kiss her as well.

“Elston,” Midge shrieks.

“It doesn’t really matter who you kiss first, kid. It’s who you kiss last.” I tighten my squeeze on Midge’s neck, but she doesn’t glance over at me.

“Can we watch the movie yet?” Liam groans. “I’m tired of talking about girls.”

“That’s right. You are only allowed to love me,” Midge teases, curling her arm around her son’s neck. He falls against his mom and remains there when she loosens her hold. My fingers toy with the collar of her shirt, and she turns her head to press her cheek against my fingers. She rubs her face against my fingers for a moment and then rights her head. I only want to love her as well.

The movie starts, and the boys interject throughout the show. Midge eventually leans against me while Liam stays tucked against her. The atmosphere warms my insides like hot coffee after a sleepless night. I’m comfortable here, enjoying her boys and their chatter. It reminds me of all I once had. A nice place of my own. A collection of people I considered friends. It also reminds me of all I long for. A family. Whatever tomorrow brings, I know I’ll never have what Midge has here with her boys.

Unless I marry her.

My head swings in her direction, and I lower my lips to kiss her hair. My eyes shoot up to find Elston watching me. He looks away slowly, but Midge settles into me. I definitely want this. Every night.

Yeah, kid, the only woman who matters is the one you kiss last.

25

Secret meetings

[Midge]

To my surprise, Hank doesn’t try to kiss me when he leaves on Friday night, but he shows up on Saturday for Liam’s second game of a doubleheader and then takes us out for burgers. I see Liam falling for Hank like I have. Hank pays attention to details, and he asks Liam all kinds of questions about baseball. In true ten-year-old fashion, Liam sways the conversation through a plethora of topics before we finish eating.

“I’m sorry about that.” I giggle as we exit the diner.

“He’s full of energy, but I enjoy him.” I like how he says this about my son. Hank only hugs me, and we part. I want to call him. I want to know what he’s thinking. I totally messed up by saying I loved him. The words simply escaped, creeping against his skin. He’s playful and carefree, and the spontaneity of him gets to me—in a good way—but I took it one step too far. I went for it, which is out of character for me because I typically take things too seriously and I can be uptight. I’m responsible, I tell myself, but the truth is I’m choking. Suffocating from commitments. I want a little room to breathe, be free, be silly, and I thought Hank was all those things for me. Instead, another trait of mine takes over—I’m worried.

When he picks me up on Sunday, I’m a bundle of nerves. As we drive through the hills north of Los Angeles, Hank takes my hand and holds it on his thigh, but he’s quiet. It’s early evening, and I have no idea where we are going. My mouth opens to speak, but I don’t know what to say. Hank seems lost to me, deep in thought as we wind through the streets.

Eventually, we arrive at a large gated home. I’ve never visited this area as I don’t mix with the rich and famous. The gate opens, and we creep up the circular drive. The house appears to sit sideways on the lot, shielding the front entrance from the road. A large ramp zigzags next to the front steps.

“Where are we?” I question, a touch of wonder in my voice. Hank parks and brings my hand to his mouth. His eyes close as he kisses my knuckles.

“This is Kit Carrigan’s home.” He pauses, and my stomach twists as I glance back at the house—a sprawling 1970 ranch which looks a little outdated. The bright white brick reflects in the late afternoon sunlight, and the house makes me think of a hospital for some reason. Large wooden double doors stand at the top of the front steps. The dark wood is a sharp contrast to the whiteness surrounding it. I’m waiting for Hank to explain, air building in my chest.

“I know it seems strange to bring you here, but this is where I’d like you to meet someone. Tommy and Edie will be here as well. He moved pasta night here tonight.”