Page 38 of Fake it For Good
“I like kids, and the little ones that struggle to have even the slightest bit of normalcy in their lives are important to me. I can’t do much for them, but I can be there. I can hang out and just let them know they aren’t alone.”
“Are you a counselor?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “I’m just me. We read books and play games. Sometimes we get to play with toys.”
“Which is why you are so familiar with my toys,” I said.
“Yes and no,” she said, laughing. “Like I said, your toys are not the ones you find in the shelters. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I think you have to charge what is right. I’m just saying the kids are usually given donations, secondhand toys. Sometimes a puzzle will be missing a piece or a car missing a wheel. The kids don’t complain, but when they do get new toys, it’s a big deal. I’m hoping to use the money I make with this job to buy new toys.”
“You’re very generous,” I said, feeling just a tiny bit guilty for having so much. My company gave away a lot but was it really enough? Could we do more? Of course, but how?
“I do what I can,” she said. “We should probably address the elephant in the room, even if it’s just a little one.”
“If you see a little elephant in the room, I think we might need to cut you off,” I joked.
“I don’t want to pry, and you don’t have to tell me anything, but in case I’m asked, can you tell me about your past?”
“My past?”
“You were married,” she said.
“Ah, yes, yes, I was,” I said.
“How long have you been divorced?”
“Two years officially,” I answered. “As easy as it is to get married, you would think it would be just as easy to divorce. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. It took months.”
“Was it an ugly divorce or one of those Hollywood ones where everything is sunshine and roses?”
“Ugly,” I said with my lip curled. “About as ugly as it can be.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “But it doesn’t look like you did too bad.”
“It didn’t happen overnight,” I said. “There were days I wanted to throw in the towel. Oddly, it was when the divorce was actually finalized that it felt like I could get up and move on. The months of fighting and dealing with the lawyers were difficult.”
“One of my teachers used to always tell me if it didn’t kill me, it would make me stronger,” she said. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been forged in fire.”
“A Phoenix rising from the ashes,” I said with a laugh. “I guess I do feel a little stronger than I did before, but I think I could have done without the hard life lessons.”
“I sometimes think that way, but then I remember some of the dark days and am glad I have something to compare now and then to,” she said.
She didn’t seem any more willing to tell me about her past than I was to tell her about the dirty details of my divorce. We didn’t need to dig into any of that stuff. I couldn’t believe I had told her as much as I did. I never even admitted how I felt to Denton. It wasn’t something I wanted to admit. I didn’t want anyone to know Kelly had hurt me. It was dumb because I wasn’t a robot. It made sense I would be feeling something about the way my marriage ended.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said when I stopped in front of her door.
“You’re welcome. I’m thinking we get breakfast at eight?”
“Eight is fine with me,” she said and then gave me a hug.
The hug took me off guard. I awkwardly hugged her back. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
The door closed behind her. I stared at it for several seconds before forcing myself to go to my room. It was a hug. That was it. It wasn’t an invitation. But damn, what if it was? I couldn’t. This was strictly business.
I walked into my room and kicked off my shoes, like that was going to be the thing that kept me from going to her room. I shrugged out of my jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. There was a strange pull coming from the door. I was being drawn to her. Why? After two years, why her? I hadn’t felt this way with another woman since Kelly. I wasn’t even sure if I felt this way when Kelly and I first met.
It had to be the celibacy. It was fucking with my head. I could fight it. I opened the fridge and grabbed the little bottle of Jack. It wasn’t my usual choice, but it would do. I had to try to stomp down the raging hormones. I swallowed the whiskey, feeling the burn all the way down my throat. I stared at the bed and pictured her in it.
