Page 88 of Living at 40

I’m quiet for a second, staring at my child, who schooled me and leaves me wondering when she got so wise. I was being stupid and a jerk.

“You need to get Autumn back. I suggest groveling, flowers, and taking us to Lakeside.” Slipping off the stool, my daughter gives me her back and stomps to her room, which is good because I was about to send her there myself.

+ + +

As if the moment with my daughter wasn’t enough, Mason calls a half hour later.

“You need to get your fucking head out of your ass,” he greets me.

“Is it Ben?” My heart races. Did something happen?

“No, it’s Autumn.”

That racing heart chokes me. “What’s wrong?” I lean on the kitchen island to support myself.

“And I didn’t think you had it in you, but you’re a total asshole.”

“What are you talking about?” I demand, not liking his tone or the continued insults.

“You need to man up. Call her. Or better yet, get up here.”

“Fuck off, Mason. Just tell me what happened?” My fingers fist, and I pound on the countertop.

“You happened.” He’s quiet for a second, and I have no better understanding of what he isn’t saying. “It’s your life, too, man. Like I said before, are you living it or just existing in it?”

“What are you even talking about?” He’s really pissing me off, and it’s all the more reason to decline the Four Points idea we had when we thought we were invincible.

“If you don’t show, I’m putting myself on the list.”

My racing heart comes to a halt, knocking the wind out of me. “What list?” I choke around the question, knowing the answer. Autumn moved on.

“The man-up list.” With that, Mason hangs up on me, and I stare at the phone in my hands. Between Lorna’s suggestions and Mason’s cryptic call, I suddenly fear I’ve made the biggest mistake of them all.

35

[Autumn]

To say I didn’t see the breakup coming would be a lie. Men just do not commit to me, and I took poor consolation in the fact Logan hadn’t cheated on me. I almost wished he had so I could hate him instead of yearning for him like I do. I understood we hadn’t been able to coordinate. Things were crazy here for me, too. I was trying to support Anna and Ben as best I could despite Mason being here, plus I had the café. My sweet spot was headed toward a slower season although the fall colors tour—the final burst of tourism—provides an extra boost before winter sets in and the beach crowd dwindles to nothingness.

I wanted to forgive Logan, but two weeks after the breakup, I didn’t. I’d grown angry, and I had no one to blame but myself. I’d gotten what I expected. Men did not stick with me.

Pouring myself a glass of wine, I lift the glass for a sip but think better of it.

No more wine for you, missy.

A sharp knock comes on my condo door, startling me from my thoughts. As I’m not expecting anyone, it must be a lost delivery person at the wrong address. I’ll be all alone tonight as I am every night. In fact, I’m looking forward to a night alone. I’ve had weeks to get used to the idea, and tonight, I relish it. I’m tired.

A second knock—that’s more like a subtle pounding—forces me forward. Yanking open the door, I freeze at the man on my stoop.

“Logan?” In his hands is a large bouquet of fall flowers.

“Hey.” He hesitantly smiles at me, and I hate how my heart flutters and my belly flips. His damn dimples are on display, and I’m blinded by how good he looks. Instantly, I remind myself this man broke up with me after a whirlwind affair and declarations of I love you. I know better. Nothing lasts forever, especially for me. “May I come in?”

Still holding the door, I actually contemplate whether I should let him enter. I don’t trust myself not to easily give in to whatever he wants. Reminding myself he’s Ben’s best friend, I step aside, wave him forward and then glance outside the open door.

“Where’s Lorna?”

“She’s with Anna and Ben.” He enters my place and stops in the middle of my small living room.