Page 6 of Frosty Felicity
CHAPTER THREE
Another Chance at Bat
Bret looked around the table. The cornbread dressing was gone, the turkey picked to the bone, and children raced around his house, some of them he’d never seen a day before in his life. There was plenty of chatter and laughter, and yet he couldn’t help fighting a touch of the doldrums. Perhaps it was because Mom wasn’t there that year. She’d passed away ten months prior after suffering a heart attack. This is my first Thanksgiving without her. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel right at all. Maybe it was also due to his divorce several years ago. The ending of that marriage still haunted him, though he wasn’t completely certain as to why. He’d had time to process it, to accept and move forward. In fact, he was the one who’d filed for divorce after all. Or maybe, it wasn’t just Mom being gone, and the divorce, but the fact he was in a room full of people while somehow, he still felt alone.
One by one, family and friends vacated the table, patting their tummies, and thanking him for cooking the main dish. His brother, Tim, had finally come by an hour late. No side dish offering. No apologies. Just bust right in yelling and hooting, as if life couldn’t possibly proceed without his boisterous presence. Tim had been a pain in his ass for quite some time. It all began when the man started having money troubles after his own messy divorce—one that didn’t go nearly as smoothly as his own. Although he loved his younger brother regardless, there was peace when he wasn’t around. He was happy to see him leave the dinner early, too, especially when he got under their father’s skin with his ill-timed remarks, and more questions about Mom’s money… possessions… and things of a material nature.
“Great dinner, Brett!” one of his cousins announced as he and his wife, too, got up from the table and headed off. He nodded and smiled, going through the motions. Some people retired to another part of the house for coffee and chat, while others piled around the TV with helpings of pumpkin pie adorned with whipped cream to watch a bit of tossing of the pigskin. A few left soon after eating, stating they had other stops to make, or giving a barrage of other excuses to stuff their pie holes and head out. Brett didn’t mind. He was fairly laid back about such things, and was simply enjoying the time spent together and fellowship.
Guess I’ll put on another pot of coffee. There’s a bit of pumpkin pie left, too.
“Touchdown!” his father screamed from the living room.
Without much ado, he stood to clear the table.
His ex-wife, Liza, rose from her chair, too. She was wearing a rather skimpy dark blue dress, the kind that showed off her long legs—the same damn legs she used to wrap behind his head while he ate her like dessert. They’d had a fantastic sex life, but their true connection had short-circuited long before the marriage was officially over. Brett hated failure, and this one had hurt to his core. Especially when she’d moved out with their son, Andrew, the boy he’d practically raised from birth.
“Let me help you, Brett.” Tossing her long brunette hair over one shoulder, she sauntered over, collecting plates and utensils along the way.
“I’ve got it. Go relax.” He gathered a few platters and headed towards the kitchen. He could hear her black heels clicking against his kitchen floor, and their bodies brushed against one another as she placed the items on the counter while ‘Hey Ya!” by Outkast played softly from Alexa, blending in with the blaring sounds of the television.
“Thanks. I got it from here.” He turned on the faucet and began to fill the sink, while squeezing a few drops of dish detergent into the filling basin.
“Brett.” She placed her hand along his back and began to rub slowly in circles, around and around. “Did you think about what we discussed the other day?”
He shot her glance, and their eyes hooked for a split second. She had a set of gorgeous almond-shaped green eyes, the kind that bore right through to one’s soul.
“I did. My feelings about us gettin’ back together still stand, Liza. I think sometimes, ya know, when things crash ’nd burn, it’s all for good reason.”
“But Brett, I’ve had relationships since our divorce, and so have you, but nothing has worked out for either of us. I know we should be together. We’re supposed to be together. All signs point to us, as a couple. This time, it would work.” He kept washing the dishes, but she couldn’t seem to stand his silence. She latched hold to his arm, forcing him to face her. “Look, I know I let my job get in between us, I was working too many hours, and I—”
“…I didn’t have a problem with that. I worked a lot, too. The final straw, Liza, was when you cheated.”
She sighed, looked down, as if ashamed, and nodded. He knew that a part of her was sincere, but another part of her needed to win this– to get him back, simply to believe that she could. She was competitive in everything that she did. He had a competitive spirit, too, but he refused to compete with his own ex-wife. Love to him was not a game.
“Brett, it wasn’t a physical affair, but yes, I cheated. Just a kiss or two. Emotionally stepping out on you. You made mistakes, too. Why aren’t you puttin’ all this shit in the dishwasher?” She tossed up her hands in frustration. Liza was an attorney, and a damn good one.
He grabbed a glass and dipped it into the water.
“Sometimes I just like to take my time and do it by hand. Look, I definitely made mistakes, Liza. I worked a lot, too, sometimes just to get away from you when we were fighting a lot. Also, I can sometimes say things in the heat of the moment that I probably shouldn’t. Things that hurt you. I don’t always show my feelings, you say, and I can agree that’s true overall, but I never wanted anyone but you when we were together. I didn’t go to other women and talk about our private business, not even my mother who often asked me what the hell was goin’ on. I didn’t want her to not like you, so, I played it all off.”
Liza chuckled dismally and crossed her arms.
“Susan hated me.” She shrugged. “But she was always cordial at least. Even nice sometimes. I can’t say anything bad about her. I miss ’er, too.” The water dripped, and he gave the faucet a gentle tap, stopping it.
“She liked you, Liza, she just didn’t trust you all the time. She said you were like a pretty cat. Slinking around, and she wondered what you did when everyone else fell asleep. She’d call sometimes late in the day, and ask what you were doin’. I’d tell her that you were working in your office. I told ’er you were nocturnal.” He smiled sadly. “She said ya gotta watch things that go bump in the night.”
They both laughed at that– though he surmised Liza didn’t find it terribly funny. At least, not deep down.
“I miss being around your family.” She added before turning away, and resting against the counter– this time, her rear-end pressed against it as she looked onward. Liza’s family was originally from Portland, Oregon. Most of them were still there, so, her friends and co-workers had become her surrogate family, and of course he, too, when they’d gotten married. Andrew had been the product of a short affair she’d had with another attorney she’d initially met right after law school. She didn’t know the guy was married until it was too late. She felt a bit silly after the fact, stating the signs were there, and she had the resources to find out the truth. It made her question herself, her own instincts and judgement. She told him many times in the past it changed her for the worse. It crushed her faith in men at the time, but they’d met one day when she was at the precinct with a client, and they’d fallen in love when they least expected it.
“You can still talk to my dad, and Tim, too. You know you’re always welcome.”
She nodded, patted her eye with the back of her hand. He surmised she was getting a bit teary eyed, but he had to be honest with her. There was no sense in dragging it out. He couldn’t see a future for them. He no longer trusted her, and he didn’t love her anymore, either. He wanted something more. Something real. Something deeper. Richer. Stronger. He wanted to be with someone he could laugh with. Someone he could make feel safe, who would allow that sort of vulnerability, in spite of being strong and able-minded. He desired a woman who would encourage him to feel safe, too, by her mere presence and energy, opening himself up to her, and exposing his deepest needs and desires. This required someone he could trust. That trust was crucial, and he would never settle for less than that again.
“That son of a bitch!” Dad hollered. “He’s too busy gettin’ high to make a touchdown! Look at this? It’s like he’s movin’ in reverse! All he does is do sloppy bump and runs!”
He and Liza looked at one another and laughed.
