Claire welcomed the return to normalcy in her life. As the days passed, she settled back into her old routine and the tasks of motherhood. She enjoyed staying busy with the twins; taking care of two babies by herself gave her plenty to do and helped take her mind off of everything that caused her stress: her dad’s health, the divorce, money, and, of course, Nick, whom she hadn’t spoken to since Paris.
Once her father came home from the hospital, she and her mother found themselves in dual caretaker roles. Her mom took care of her dad, while Claire handled everything to do with Caitlin and Delaine. They took turns running errands and cooking dinner, and although having a recovering heart patient and two four-month-old babies in a condo together was difficult, they both agreed that they were better off together than apart.
“I’m so glad we’re still living here,” her mother would say. “I can’t imagine what I’d do if it was just me with your dad back in Gainesville. I’m so afraid of leaving him alone, I’d never want to leave the house!”
And, despite the differences they’d had over the years, Claire found that she agreed. She couldn’t imagine having to take Cait and Lainey everywhere she went and enjoyed the freedom of being able to leave them with her mother while she ran to the grocery store or the pharmacy.
Yet the living situation couldn’t last. By the end of summer, her father had recovered, the twins were sleeping through the night, sitting up on their own, and bottle-feeding with no trouble, and Claire was in a financial crisis. She’d been paying bills, insurance payments, legal fees, and supporting two babies without an income since February, and the money was running out. Her parents had helped her out, but they had their own medical bills, and she wasn’t about to let them use her father’s retirement funds to dig her out of the hole she was in.
Her only saving grace was that the divorce had been finalized, which meant the lawyer fees would soon be a thing of the past, and she would start receiving child support from Jamie. Still, it would not be enough. She needed to go back to work.
On the last day of August, she found herself in Dr. Barry Somers’ dental office, interviewing to get her old hygienist job back. The “interview” was a joke; Dr. Somers, an old friend of her father’s, assured her the position was hers and that they would be happy to have her back. Laureen was thrilled, and even Tim stopped her on her way out to say, “Glad to see you gettin’ back in the saddle, C.” The old, familiar cheesy smile and crooked glasses made her grin, and she told herself it would be fun to be working at the office again, ripping on Tim with Laureen on their lunch breaks and betting on which hygienist would get bitten the most times in a month.
But actually going back was harder than just thinking of going back. After months of spending most of her time with her daughters, being apart from them for a whole day was a difficult adjustment to make. And coming home to take care of them after a day of cleaning teeth was almost harder. She’d forgotten the physical rigors of her job – how her back would hurt after a long day of leaning over patients, and how her wrists would ache from the same probing and scraping and flossing motions over and over, and how tired her feet would get from standing all day. Maybe it was because she had been out of work for a year, or maybe it was because her body was not twenty-one anymore, but the aches, pains, and overall fatigue were worse than she remembered. When she got home in the afternoon, all she wanted to do was put her feet up and relax, but instead, she had two growing babies to diaper and feed and play with. Relaxation was not an option.
It only got harder when her parents moved back to their home in Gainesville in October. Claire had insisted that she needed to get used to the lifestyle of a single mother and not rely on them so much, but when she found herself completely on her own, a working mom of seven-month-old twins, she felt completely overwhelmed.
Thank God for Amber. Her sister-in-law, who wanted to wait until Kamden was in kindergarten to go back to her teaching job, had offered to take the twins each day. “I don’t mind,” she’d said cheerfully. “Sometimes it gets boring with just me and a three-year-old, and Kam needs to learn how to interact with younger kids. Kyle and I would like to give him a little sister or brother eventually.”
Claire was eternally grateful for the option of childcare with someone she trusted. She paid Amber for her time and expenses, but doubted she was paying as much as a daycare would charge for two babies. Other than the fact that it meant driving to St. Petersburg and back twice a day, it was a nice arrangement.
As the end of October loomed and the Florida heat began to wane, Claire and her girls settled into a routine that was workable, if not exactly comfortable.
But all it took were the two men who had not been a part of her life for the last few months to re-enter it and turn her routine on its head.
***
Nick had spent the summer in Los Angeles. After finishing the last of his overseas tour dates in Japan, he had flown into LA and never left. There was nothing for him in Tampa right now but awkwardness, he’d decided. LA was where the action was. Most of his friends were there, and the guys all had houses in the area. There’d been no reason for him to go back to Florida.
After about a month in California, he had started to get antsy. It always happened to him on his breaks, once he’d had a chance to relax and recover from touring. After a few weeks, he was ready to go again, to make music and be onstage. Counting on AJ, at least, to share in his suffering, he had reconnected with the guys, and they had tentatively begun working on their next album.
It was slow going and awkward, at first, without Kevin in their midst. Though they saw their oldest member from time to time, he was never with them in the recording studio or the meetings with various producers and songwriters. It was a hard fact to get used to; weeks passed before Nick stopped making dinner reservations for five or wondering why Kevin was late when he didn’t show up.
But eventually, the newness and the awkwardness of their situation faded, and work on the new album progressed. It had the potential to be a great record, Nick thought. They were taking advantage of the change in their line-up by experimenting with new sounds, new writers and producers, and new types of music. The songs they had recorded were more upbeat than the tracks on the last album. Fewer ballads, more dance tracks. Nick was pleased with the change. Quite frankly, he was sick of singing sappy songs about love.
Summer passed without any love for Nick. He sometimes went out and met cute girls at clubs, but they didn’t do much for him, and he never did anything with them. That last fling with the groupie in France had left a bad taste in his mouth – he would never forget the look of hurt and disappointment on Claire’s face. It was because of her that he’d barely touched another woman since.
But why? he sometimes asked himself. What was he waiting for? Did he honestly expect Claire to show up on his front porch like she had at the hotel in Paris?
He didn’t really, and yet, he thought of her often. What was she doing? What was she thinking? Had her feelings changed?
He’d wanted to call her ever since he’d been back, but he had always fought against the temptation. It would be only too easy to call her and beg for her to give him another chance. Really, she was the one who should be asking for a second chance. She was the one who had run away from him and disappeared, barely giving him a chance to speak. She could call first.
But for weeks, he heard nothing from her. And then, just when he was starting to wonder if he should call just to make sure she was okay, an email.
Hey Nick,
I just wanted to say hi. I hope the rest of the tour went well for you. I’m sorry for not getting in touch earlier. Things have been crazy lately. My dad had to have bypass surgery, but he’s recovering. The twins are doing great – getting bigger every day!
I’m not sure where you are right now, but I hope you’re doing well.
XOXOXO
Claire
The message was short and sweet, but left him perplexed. It hurt a little to find out that she’d been going through things – a health scare with her dad among them – and not called him for moral support. But after the way they’d left things in Paris, he supposed he couldn’t blame her. It was awkward for both of them.
And yet, when were they ever going to talk about it? She’d danced right around the issue in that email and every message after it, as if she were trying to pretend the whole thing had never happened. Nick played along, but it was hard not to just come out and ask her. What were you doing there, Claire? What did you come to say to me?
He had his suspicions of course, but it was killing him not to know, for certain, if he’d been right. The answers she refused to give him had the potential to change everything and make their complicated relationship simple again. But instead, Claire continued to be an enigma.
As summer turned to fall, the déjà vu of their post break-up awkwardness set in. It had been nearly four years since Claire had broken off their engagement, but to Nick, it felt as if she’d left him all over again. They were back at square one, trying to maintain a casual friendship, yet blocked by the elephant in the room. For the first time in the years he’d known her, Claire didn’t seem to want to acknowledge it. She was always the blunt one, the one who brought up the hard topics without any trouble, yet for once, she was walking on eggshells around him.
It was early October when he finally flew home to Tampa for the first time since the tour. After weeks in the studio, the guys were taking a break, doing their own things. Brian, Leighanne, and Baylee were in Atlanta, Howie in Orlando, while AJ stayed with Mary in Malibu. They didn’t speak to each other for two weeks, until Howie called about a Halloween party he was throwing in Orlando.
“Sure I’ll come,” said Nick, who loved anything to do with Halloween. “How big’s this thing gonna be?” D may not have looked the part, but he could throw a good party.
“Mm, maybe one tier below the Playboy Mansion party,” Howie
“Ha ha, okay… I’m holdin’ you to that, man.” Nick had been to Hugh Hefner’s annual Halloween bash once in recent years. Claire had been with him, he remembered, with a sudden jolt. He hadn’t thought of that night in a long time.
The memory would not leave him, so when he got off the phone with Howie, he went into his office and started digging through drawers until he found a dusty CD among a collection he’d burned. Sticking it into his computer’s drive, he pulled up a folder of digital pictures and started scrolling through them. A grinning redhead appeared in many of them, for they were all from the year he and Claire had spent together. There were photos from their trip to Hawaii, in Los Angeles, out on Nick’s boat, acting goofy in various places, and just hanging out around Tampa. Among them were a set of pictures from that Halloween, with him smirking in his pirate costume and her foaming out of her colonial gown.
He smiled a sad smile, filled with nostalgia. That had been a good night. A good year. He missed having fun with her like they had that year.
Scrolling through the pictures, he wondered if there was a way to recreate the magic.
***
“Come on, Lainey… open up.” Claire held the baby spoon full of applesauce to her daughter’s mouth, but Delaine kept her lips firmly shut, screwed up her face, and turned her head, letting out a muffled whine. Sighing in frustration, Claire put the spoon down and picked up Caitlin’s spoon again.
“Ready, Cait?” She spooned up some more applesauce with Caitlin’s spoon, and, making airplane noises, zoomed the spoon straight into Cait’s open mouth. Caitlin swallowed, smiled, and bounced in her high chair. Delaine continued to fuss.
Deciding to not force the issue with her youngest for right now, Claire focused on feeding Caitlin the rest of her applesauce. As she looked from twin to twin in between bites, she marveled over how different her two babies were.
Sometimes it alarmed her, how Delaine seemed behind Caitlin in every aspect of their development. At eight months old, they were expected to be reaching the milestones of a six-month-old, being that they’d been born two months premature. But while Caitlin was beginning to crawl and babble in a way that sounded like real speech, Delaine was usually stationary and silent. Oh, she played, and she made noises, but not like Caitlin did. And altogether, she was far less agreeable than her older twin. Sometimes Claire wondered if she was frustrated.
The pediatrician assured her that it was normal, that even twins did not develop at the same rate, especially fraternal twins. Delaine was within the normal ranges for her adjusted age, and in a few years, no one would be able to guess she had been a preemie.
Claire was not convinced, but she tried not to dwell on it. Still, it was frustrating sometimes. Delaine weighed less than Caitlin, was at the lower end of the weight scale, even for a six-month-old, and still wouldn’t eat without a struggle. And the fact that the doctor said there was nothing physically wrong with her made Claire feel even worse. What was she doing wrong?
In the middle of the feeding, her phone rang, preventing Claire from wondering again whether her going back to work was only contributing to Delaine’s delays. It was not a welcomed distraction, but she took a break from applesauce airplane anyway and got up to see who was calling.
“Well, whaddya know… it’s your Uncle Nick,” she said aloud as she picked up the phone. Flipping it open, she answered cheerfully, “Turner International Airport, applesauce terminal.”
Behind her, both twins giggled, making her smile. They couldn’t have understood the joke, bad as it was, but they must have liked the chipper tone of her crisp “phone voice.”
Nick didn’t get it either. “… Claire?” he asked after a few seconds’ pause, sounding confused.
“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry, you caught us in the middle of dinner. We’re playing airplane. You know… ‘open up for the plane, vroom vroom.’”
“Ah… gotcha.” Nick sounded amused; she could just picture him smirking on his end, fighting the urge to laugh at her. “So is this a bad time?”
“Nah, it’s okay. Lainey’s not eating anyway, and Cait’s gotta be about full.” Just as she said it, she turned to see Caitlin reaching hopefully for the Gerber jar set just out of her reach on the table. She grinned; Cait was a girl after her own heart. “I’ve got a few minutes. What’s up?”
“Well, I’ve got a question for ya.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“Howie’s having a Halloween party in Orlando on the thirty-first. I don’t wanna be the only one there without a date. Will you come with me?”
Her own reaction surprised her. She felt the corners of her mouth tugging upwards, as a strange, girlish glee she had not felt in a long time bubbled within her. He was asking her out… wasn’t he? Well, maybe it wasn’t like that… but either way, she hadn’t been to a party or out on a date in at least a year. And she loved anything to do with Halloween.
“Is it a costume party?” she asked.
“Um, yeah. So we’ll have to-”
“You’ll have to put a costume together,” Claire interjected. “I’ve already got one.”
“Oh yeah? What are you gonna be?”
“Well, we’ve sorta got a theme going on, the twins and I. They love watching The Little Mermaid, so Cait’s going as Flounder, Lainey’s going as Sebastian, and I’m going to be…”
“The little mermaid?” asked Nick, his voice droll with amusement.
“Yeah. Ariel.” Claire giggled. “The costume is so not me, but I couldn’t resist when I found baby costumes for Flounder and Sebastian online. They’re just too cute. Besides, I went as Ariel for Halloween when I was ten and that movie had just come out, so it’s kind of a blast from the past.”
Nick laughed. “You don’t have to explain yourself. So are you saying you’ll come to the party, as long as you get to wear your mermaid costume?”
“I’m saying if you want me to come to the party, you have to dress the theme. You have two options: Prince Eric or King Triton.”
“Uh… who’s King Triton?”
“Ariel’s dad. He has a long white beard, carries a triton, and is totally naked except for his fish tail,” described Claire, fighting hard to contain her laughter.
“I’ll be Prince Eric,” Nick answered quickly.
Claire smirked. “I thought so.”
***
“Trick-or-treat!”
Claire’s voice was drowned out by a huge squeal as the door flew open. “Oh my gosh, you guys look so cute!” Her sister-in-law Amber practically bounced up and down on her own doorstep before beckoning them in. “Come in, come in, and show everybody!”
Claire walked in, carrying Caitlin in her yellow fish costume, and Nick clomped behind in his tall black boots, Delaine nestled snugly in his arms. In her velour crab costume, she felt warm and extra cuddly. As he carried her into the house, he stopped to look around.
Kyle and Amber’s small living room was a full one that night. In one corner, Kyle was knelt in front of what had to be his son Kamden, fastening the chinstrap of his football helmet. The little boy was dressed in a miniature Miami Dolphins uniform. Smiling, Nick wondered if going as a football player had been Kamden’s idea or Kyle’s.
Over on the couch were Claire’s parents, who were getting up to come over and see the babies. They had driven all the way from Gainesville to be there for the twins’ first Halloween.
“Oh, Claire, the costumes are adorable,” gushed Carrie. She actually looked teary. “You all look just perfect.” She beamed at Nick before scooping Caitlin out of Claire’s arms.
“So Claire roped you into this Disney thing too, huh?” asked Kris as he came over, grinning at Nick. “You’re a good man.” He gave Nick a clap on the shoulder. “How ya been?”
“Really good,” Nick replied with a nod. “Can’t complain. How about you?”
Kris smiled. “Just fine,” he answered. He looked older than Nick remembered, with deep lines etched into his face and most of his reddish hair lost to gray, and had lost enough weight to give him a slightly shrunken appearance. He was still a large man, but not as powerful-looking as he had once been.
Nick returned his easy smile. “Good to hear.” He passed Delaine off to her grandfather, and instantly, the baby began to cry. The sound pierced at Nick’s heart, and instinctively, he reached out to take her back. Then, realizing what he was doing, he stopped himself and put his arms down. Kris hadn’t noticed; he was jiggling Delaine in his arms, trying to soothe her.
“What do you think you’re cryin’ about, kiddo?” he cooed playfully to his granddaughter. “You were fine just a minute ago.” Smiling up at Nick, he said, “You must have a way with her.”
Nick felt his face heat up. He’d felt awkward at first, joining Claire and her children for Halloween, and not just because of the way he was dressed. But after holding Caitlin and Delaine back at the condo and making silly faces at them in the backseat the whole way over to Kyle and Amber’s, he felt sort of an attachment to them. They were a part of Claire, and seeing the way she interacted with them hit a soft spot inside him.
Hearing her daughter cry, Claire came over to see what was wrong. She didn’t interfere, though, just let her dad go at it, and eventually, Delaine’s cries dissolved into hiccups. “There you go, silly girl,” said Claire, squeezing the baby’s foot. “See, it’s just Grandpa. You threw a hissy fit for no reason.”
She was going to be a cool mom, Nick had decided. The kind of mom who could be nurturing without smothering, who could discipline but still kick back and have fun, and who could be her kids’ friend without letting them walk all over her. He saw all of those qualities in her, as she talked to her baby.
“Hey, let’s get some pictures, before you guys take off for Orlando,” said Amber, holding up a camera. “Nick and Claire, just you two first. Come over here.”
She motioned them over to the front door, where she had some Halloween decorations on a table along with a big bowl of candy. Nick went to stand beside Claire in front of the display. At first he wondered how he should pose with her – was it wrong to put an arm around her when she was newly divorced, wearing a somewhat revealing mermaid dress, and in the same room as her parents? No, that was silly. They were friends, and they were costumed as a couple. Hoping he wasn’t going to over-think every move he made that night, Nick slipped an arm around her waist, his hand sliding on the satiny fabric of her costume. He felt Claire’s arm come around his back, and they both grinned for the camera.
“Very cute,” smiled Amber as she previewed the picture on her camera.
“Ooh, let me see,” said Claire, and Amber brought the camera over.
Nick looked at the picture over Claire’s shoulder. They did look good together, Claire in a lavender “seashell” bodice and shimmery, teal “fishtail” skirt, and he in a white dress shirt, blue pants, red sash, and black boots. His costume wasn’t all that different from the pirate costume he’d worn four Halloweens ago; in fact, it was more simple and required no makeup. He’d considered spraying his hair black, then decided against it. Claire’s hair was natural but for a hairpiece she’d bought to add length to her red hair.
“Perfect,” Claire agreed when she saw the picture. “Let’s get some with the girls in it. Maybe a couple with Nick and a couple of just the twins and me… I want to send some to Jamie,” she added hastily, “and I don’t think he needs to know Nick was in on this. Talk about rubbing salt in the wounds…” She gave Nick an awkward look, and he had to put a hand over his mouth to disguise the smile he couldn’t hold back. Jamie would no doubt he fuming if he knew Nick was here, dressed in costume with Claire and their daughters.
Amber took a number of pictures of the four of them together, Claire and the girls, just the twins, the three cousins together, and the kids with their grandparents. Finally, Claire checked the time and said, “Well, Nick and I should get going. I’ll have my phone with me, so just call if you have any trouble with the twins. I’ll be over to pick them up sometime in the morning.”
“Sounds good. Have fun, you two,” said Amber as she ushered them out the door.
Claire was quiet as Nick drove them out of St. Petersburg and hopped on I-275 for the two-hour drive to Orlando. He suspected she was having a hard time leaving the twins behind, but didn’t press her. He just hoped she would liven up once they got to Howie’s, and, thankfully, she did.
The party was in full force by the time they arrived, and Howie’s place was hopping. Nick took Claire around through the clusters of people, recognizing many he knew, some from years and years ago when the Boys had been based in Orlando, and many he didn’t. He made introductions, and Claire kept up her end of the small talk, especially once she had a few drinks in her.
After an hour or so of mingling, walking in his tall boots was becoming difficult, so Nick found a place to sit inside with Brian and Leighanne, who had come down from Atlanta for the weekend. They sat there for another hour, sipping drinks while Nick talked music and sports with Brian, and Claire and Leighanne swapped baby stories.
During lapses in his conversation with Brian, Nick would find himself just watching Claire. He loved the animated way in which she talked, gesturing wildly with her hands as she raised her voice to be heard above the rest of the party. She got loud when she was drunk, and she was definitely getting there now, judging by the way she kept throwing her head back as she laughed and touching Leighanne’s arm or knee. She got touchy-feely when she drank too.
The last year had beaten her down, and it was refreshing to see her like this again – carefree, laughing, having fun. This was the Claire he’d fallen in love with, the Claire who could use her dark humor to get around her problems and make him forget his too. It was as if her soul had returned to the depressed shell Jamie had carved her into, bringing it back to life. The marriage, divorce, and motherhood had changed her and matured her, but he could see the old Claire in her again.
If only he could find out, for once and for certain, if her old feelings for him had come back too.
***
“Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame… you give love a bad name!”
She was full-out head-banging in the passenger seat as she sang Bon Jovi – at the top of her lungs and horribly out of tune. As he drove, singing along, Nick couldn’t help but steal a glance at her every few lines. He had to remind himself that she was only this lit because she was drunk, but she wasn’t yet sloppy drunk, just funny drunk, and he found her adorable. Irresistible.
It felt like old times, just the two of them, rocking out to one of his rock mix CDs as they sped down the interstate in his convertible. The top was up, but Claire put it down during the guitar solo and belted the chorus to the clear night sky.
He hadn’t seen her this lively in months, years even; she was almost manic. But this was her, the old her, the Claire he had loved, lost, and missed for the last four years. He was enjoying this just as much as she was. The music blaring, the cool breeze on his face, and hardly any traffic in sight. He could drive like this for days.
“Ohh… you gonna take me home tonight…” A capella, the harmony of Queen came blasting through the speakers, as the song changed, and Claire quickly joined in singing along. “Ohh… down beside that red firelight. Ohh… you gonna let it all hang out. Fat-bottomed girls, you make the rockin’ world go round…”
A memory got Nick snickering, and he reached out to turn the volume down a notch. Looking over at Claire with the biggest, most shit-eating grin he could muster, he said, “I had a ringtone of this song for when you called, back when you were preggers.”
It took a moment for the meaning of this to sink in, but when it did, Claire’s mouth dropped open (the corners twitching the whole time), and she slugged him playfully in the shoulder. “You ass!”
“Hey now!” Nick protested, steadying the wheel with his left hand. “I’m trying to drive here! Stay on your own side… fatass,” he added, flashing another impish grin in her direction. She was the only woman he dared to call a fatass, even jokingly.
“Ohh-ho… you don’t know what you’re missing, Stumpy! You know you want some of this…” Before he knew what was happening, she’d unbuckled her seatbelt and hitched her mermaid skirt up high enough to free her legs. He looked over, and she was on her knees on the seat, her head high above the open top, one hand holding onto the seat back while the other flailed above her in the air.
His heart skipped a beat, not only because her ass was now inches from his face, but because they were going eighty down the interstate. Instinctively, he reached out with his free hand, caught her arm, and tried to pull her down, but she just laughed and sang louder. “I’ve been singing with my band, across the wire, across the land. I seen every blue-eyed floozy along the way. But their beauty and their style went kind of smooth after awhile. Take me to them dirty ladies every time! Ohh…”
“Jesus, Claire…” Completely flustered, Nick saw an exit coming and took it, holding onto her as he swerved the car into the right lane, braking as soon as he got onto the ramp. As the car slowed to a safer speed, he let out a breath and turned onto a highway that appeared totally deserted. There was nothing in sight, not even a gas station, and he had no idea what exit he’d taken. That was just as well; he pulled over to the shoulder and stopped, jerking the car into park.
He turned to Claire and got another full-on view of her ass, its curves hugged snugly by the teal taffeta of her costume. “You want some tail?” she giggled, offering a wicked smile over her shoulder.
He knew she was only messing with him, but in spite of that, he felt his pants grow tight as the desire that had burned and cooled to embers flared up again, searing deep down inside him. His pulse quickened, and at first, he didn’t know how to react. It was on impulse that he finally put both hands on her waist and pulled her down. She came toppling backwards and landed in his lap, practically wedged between him and the steering wheel.
“Fuck, Nick, your wheel about took out my kidney, and your damn fake leg is hard as hell!” she complained as she struggled to scoot back into her seat, massaging her lower back as she sat up. But she was still giggling… until she suddenly stopped. “Damn.”
“What?”
“I have to pee.” She looked around, wrinkling her nose. “Couldn’t you have picked an exit that actually had, like, a McDonald’s or a gas station or somewhere in the vicinity?”
“Sorry… I was more concerned about keeping you from flying out of my car,” Nick deadpanned. “Put your seatbelt on, and I’ll find a rest stop.”
“Forget it. I gotta pee now.” When he gave her an exasperated look, she shrugged and added, “I dunno, but ever since I was pregnant, I can’t hold it like I used to. The feeling just kinda comes on really quick. They musta clipped a nerve or something down there when they cut me open; who knows.”
Nick tried in vain to contain his revulsion, but Claire just laughed at the look on his face and scrambled out over her door. “Wait, where are you going?” he called after her, and she turned with a “Where do you think, Sherlock?” look.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never peed by the side of the road. All that traveling you do? I wouldn’t believe it.”
“We have bathrooms on the tour bus,” Nick pointed out, though he couldn’t honestly say he had never peed outdoors. All guys did that.
“True. But no potty in your BMW, so… excuse me for a minute.” She started to flounce off the side of the road, into the ditch, then stopped. “Don’t watch!” she shouted back at him.
“I don’t want to!” he shouted back, but he looked long enough to see her start to hitch up her skirt and squat; then he turned away. Quickly.
“I can’t believe I just did that,” she sighed when she climbed back into the car a minute or so later. “I don’t think almost-thirty-year-olds are supposed to still be peeing in ditches.”
Nick snickered. “Why, did you piss in ditches often in your youth?”
“Well, no… not often. But, ya know… college… drinking… I can’t say it never happened.” She grinned, her tongue poking between her teeth.
He shook his head. “You are something tonight.”
She smiled and relaxed against the seat, leaning her head back. “I know,” she sighed, “but I needed this. A night where I can just be Claire again and not ‘Mom’ or ‘Mrs. Turner’ for awhile.”
He offered a crooked smile back. “Are you gonna stay ‘Mrs. Turner’ forever? Or are you gonna take your maiden name back?”
Her lips twisted as she made a face. “I dunno… I thought about it, but it seems like it’d just be adding insult to injury to get rid of Jamie’s name.”
“But you’re divorced. Doesn’t it bug you to have to sign your name that way? Doesn’t it make you think of him?”
“Yeah… but then… I did marry him. He’s the father of my children; they have his last name too. He’ll always be a part of our lives because of that. I can’t just sever all ties with him.” She paused thoughtfully. “There was a time when I was proud to sign my name Turner.”
“Yeah… a time when you were out of your mind,” Nick said wryly.
She gave him a look, though the corner of her lips twitched. “Don’t be mean.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Besides, I won’t stay Mrs. Turner forever. I’d like to get married again… someday. When I know for sure I’m with the right person.”
She didn’t look at him as she said this, so he studied her profile. “How will you know for sure?”
Claire glanced over at him once, then quickly looked away. She didn’t answer at first, but the corners of her mouth twitched upwards again. Then they sagged, as her quiet answer came. “I don’t know…”
He wanted to say something back to that, but the thoughts in his head were too jumbled for him to find the right words, so he said nothing instead.
After a moment of silence, she reached out and turned up the music again. “Fat-Bottomed Girls” had ended, and Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” was playing. “Good song,” she murmured, hitting a button to start the track over again.
Nick took that as his cue to drive and put the car back into gear. Pulling carefully back onto the road, he made a U-turn, unseen on the empty highway, and merged back onto I-4, in the direction of his Tampa exit.
The rest of the ride was more subdued. Claire’s buzz had apparently died down a bit, and she rode mostly in silence, singing softly under her breath now and then. At first, Nick wasn’t sure how to read her sudden quietness – was she upset? He worried that maybe he’d struck a nerve, bringing up Jamie, and mentally berated himself for doing so and killing her good mood. Not that he wanted her half out his convertible again, but he much preferred the happy-go-lucky Claire to the sullen one.
As he slowed to a stop for a red light in Tampa, the last track on his CD came on. The slow guitar and piano riff, accented by the tinkling of chimes, was familiar to Claire, and she drew in a breath beside him. “’Bed of Roses’? God, I loved this song when it came out. It was a staple at our school dances in junior high.” She laughed. “My thirteen-year-old self thought that lying down on a bed of roses was just about the most romantic thing in the world.”
“It’s pretty romantic,” Nick agreed.
She shrugged. “It is, but you can have romance without roses. With the right person, even Cracklin’ Oat Bran can be romantic.”
Nick had been watching the traffic light, but as her words sunk in, he turned to gaze at her instead. She didn’t give him long to look. As the song swelled to its chorus, she suddenly leaned over, slipped her hand around the back of his head, and brought his lips crashing down into hers.
This kiss was awkward at first; it had been so unexpected. But once he realized what was happening, Nick relaxed into it, and the old, familiar comfort of the sensation sank in. He struggled to keep his foot on the brake as he kissed her, dimly aware of the fact that the light could change at any time. But that was the fun of it, the magic.
A car horn jarred them out of the kiss, and Nick straightened to find that the light was as green as grass. “Shit,” he cursed, jerking his foot from the brake to the accelerator and pressing it to the floor. The convertible shot forward, tires squealing.
Once he was coasting at a reasonable speed, Nick dared to glance over at Claire. She had a mischievous grin on her face. “Can we just, like, put that moment on pause until we get home?” he asked her, practically begged her.
“Where’s home?”
“My place?” he suggested, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. She nodded her agreement, still smiling. And so, he blew straight through the intersection he would have turned at to get to her condo and headed for his own home instead.
It wasn’t far, but Claire made the drive difficult. She kept messing with him, teasing him, making it even harder for him to concentrate on the road. She’d snake her hand across the center console that separated them and rest it on his thigh. His inner thigh. When he turned to look at her, she’d wiggle her eyebrows or lick her lips. She was killing him. He forced himself not to look at her for the rest of the drive, though that about killed him too.
Finally, in the safety solitude of his own driveway, he threw the car into park, shook off his seatbelt, and tossed his inhibitions aside. Leaning over the console, he took Claire in his arms, pulled her closer to him, and kissed her again. This time, the kiss lingered… slow, long, and deep, not erratic and rushed as the first had been. But it was no less passionate. Claire kissed back with a hunger that seemed to only have been whet by the first; she was ravenous, and so was he, and after a few minutes in the car, they both seemed to decide it was not enough.
“Can we take this someplace more comfortable than your car?” Claire asked breathlessly, and all Nick could do was nod. He was almost afraid to speak, even more afraid to move, terrified of doing anything that might interrupt this moment. But he could do a lot better than make out in a car, and so he let go of her long enough to quickly climb out and met her again at the front bumper.
Taking her hand, he led her up to the house and straight on through, stopping only for a couple of blankets. “Here,” he said, spreading them out across the deck at the back of the house. “Make yourself comfortable. Wait for me here… for just a minute.” He held up his index finger, giving her a meaningful look. Afraid to leave her for too long, for fear the mood would be ruined by the time he returned, he scrambled around the house and returned a few minutes later with a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a torch lighter. He lit the tiki torches that lined the deck, bringing a warm, soft glow to the poolside area, and poured the wine.
Settling down beside her on the nest of blankets, he let Claire take a sip of her wine, then moved his lips towards the place her glass had last been. He could taste the wine on her lips as he kissed her, sucking gently, savoring each second. Each one, he knew, could be the last, for he was expecting her to come to her senses and pull away at any moment. She had resisted him for so long, he couldn’t believe she would really let him have her now. She was just teasing him, offering a taste to tempt him, but only a taste.
But Claire didn’t pull away. She kissed and caressed the way she had in the car, with a thirst that couldn’t be quenched by wine, a lust only he could satisfy. All it took were a few kisses to wash away the awkwardness and let drift in the old comfort of being in each other’s arms. As he put his hands on her, his lips leaving hers and moving lower, down her neck and shoulders, Nick forgot all their years of separation. His memory took over, and in it, he was twenty-five again and head over heels in love with the only woman who could complete him.
All inhibition was forgotten, as her fingers moved to the buttons of his ruffled shirt, undoing them from the top down and letting the front fly open. Nick slid out of the shirt and felt the hair rise on his bare skin as it met the October night air.
“You have goosebumps,” she noticed with a smile, dragging her fingernails lightly down his upper arm to create more.
“You do too,” he said, seeing the tiny bumps rise on her pale skin. “Is it too cold out here?”
“A little, but I’m not ready to go in yet.” She glanced up at the sky, looking all around. “It’s so pretty out here.”
“You know, the pool’s heated. The water should be warmer than the air is.” He eyed her fishtail suggestively. “You wanna give those fins a try?”
The flickering torchlight caught the grin that spread across her face. “Well, you know what they say… ‘Darling, it’s better down where it’s wetter.’” Without another word, she got up from the blanket, stepped over her discarded shoes, and sauntered down the three steps that led to the lower level of the deck, where the pool gave off an enticing glow. Watching the way her hips moved from side to side as she walked in the figure-hugging skirt, Nick scrambled up and followed as quickly as he could, leaving his shirt behind.
Perching in a deck chair near the pool, he tugged off his boots and long stockings, then stood to pull down the knee-length, blue breeches. “Sorry, I dunno if Prince Eric wore boxer briefs,” he joked, feeling slightly ridiculous standing there in the tight skivvies. Glad to avoid having to make eye contact right then, he bent over to undo the suction valve on his prosthetic leg.
Claire laughed. “Ariel probably would have preferred him in a Speedo.”
That got Nick to look up, as he gave her a revolted face. “Uh, hell no – if that’s a fantasy of yours, it ain’t happening.”
“Not mine. I’m just saying… Ariel lives in a penis-shaped castle; the girl must like to look at a nice package.” She grinned, and Nick smirked. Nice package, eh?
He hopped to the edge of the deep end and dove in, glad to be below the surface of the warm water. It was indeed more comfortable than being out in the open air, and he took his time in surfacing. The breeze felt chilly on his wet face when he did, and a shiver ran through him.
“How’s the water?” Claire called.
“It’s nice. Come on, mermaid, flop your ass in here.”
“I don’t have an ass; I have a tail. Which I think I’m going to trade for some legs now, ’cause I think they’d actually serve me better for swimming. So if you don’t mind…” Without waiting for a response, Claire undid the zipper on the side of the skirt and slid the sleek, shimmery garment slowly down her hips and legs. When she stepped neatly out of it, she was standing at the edge of the pool in nothing but her lavender seashell top and a pair of silky, purple panties. They revealed the flaws that even the slinky fishtail had hidden – cellulite on her thighs, stretch marks across her stomach, and a slight pooch that had not been present before she’d had babies. Nick noticed, but didn’t care, and Claire didn’t seem self-conscious now that she’d stripped down.
He expected her to jump right into the pool with him, but instead, she made quite a show out of prancing around the edge, entering the water on the shallow end. She descended the marble steps gradually, and only when the water was up to her shoulders did she begin a slow butterfly stroke across the pool. As he watched her glide smoothly through the water towards him, her red hair floating all around her, Nick’s heart began to race in anticipation.
Something was going to happen tonight. He couldn’t count on it, and yet he knew it to be true. He could sense it.
It was meant to be.
***
Claire knew it too.
She’d been drinking, and not all of her thoughts were coherent ones; she was acting without thinking, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew. She knew what was going to happen, what she wanted to happen, and she let fate take over, guiding her actions like the water carried her body. She didn’t think… she didn’t worry… she didn’t second-guess herself. She just let herself float. Straight into Nick’s arms.
Soon they were locked in a watery kiss, their toes brushing each other beneath the surface as they treaded the water. She could taste faint hints of chlorine and alcohol as she drew his moist bottom lip in between hers, sucking gently, but most of all, she just tasted him. Nick. The old familiarity of the kiss returned, and rather than wondering what the hell she was doing, she relaxed into it and gave herself over to it all. To the water, to the kiss, and most of all, to Nick.
Breaking apart only to breathe, they joined lips again and slipped beneath the surface of the water, their arms encircling one another as they sunk and spun freely. Claire shut her eyes against the sting of the chlorine, and her world beneath the water went dark and silent. She relied on touch… the feel of Nick’s lips pressed tightly against hers, their bodies sliding against each other, her feet floating freely, her chest growing tight as her lungs began to crave oxygen. Just when she knew she wasn’t going to be able to hold on much longer, she felt herself being thrust upwards, as Nick’s powerful arms propelled them back to the surface.
They burst above the water and broke apart momentarily, gasping for breath. Claire sucked in a few mouthfuls of the cool, refreshing air, then pulled Nick to her again to continue where they’d left off. His kisses were deep and frantic, as if he were a man dying of thirst, desperate to drink up every last drop of her. And she felt the same. She couldn’t get enough of him, and relished in the passion she hadn’t felt in so long.
“I feel like we’re heading towards the porno version of ‘Kiss the Girl,’” she managed to say, breathlessly, as he spun them around in the water, one arm wrapped around her, the other treading water to keep them afloat.
He snickered and let go of her, sliding lower in the water so that only his eyes could be seen above the surface. They glimmered devilishly, as, below the water, she felt his hand take hers. She was pulled through the water as he swam backwards in uneven strokes, whisking them back to the shallow side of the pool. Her feet could touch the bottom again, but she didn’t want them to. She liked the feeling of floating; she didn’t want to come down.
Bouncing weightlessly on his one leg, he backed himself up against the deck side of the pool and pulled her to his bare chest. She slid up against his slick skin and pressed her lips against his left shoulder, kissing away the beads of water that glistened along his collarbone and all the way over to his right shoulder. Holding onto him, with both arms wrapped around the back of his broad neck, she hooked her legs around his waist. As her body was drawn even closer to his, she felt him harden against her inner thigh.
Their eyes met. The desire radiating from his matched that of her palpitating heart, and instinctively, she knew they were about to cross over from playful kisses into something much deeper. Leaning forward, she kissed his lips, giving her silent permission. Moments later, she felt his hands caress the back of her neck, as his nimble fingers undid the plastic hook of her halter. The thin straps tumbled down her front, and the seashell bodice started to slide. Eager hands pulled them upwards instead, up and over her head. As she shook her hair free of the top, the night air tickled her bare breasts, raising goosebumps upon the sensitive skin and hardening her nipples. She shivered from the sudden cold, but Nick’s hands soon remedied that, and soon she was trembling from his touch instead.
He slid lower down the side of the pool, submerging her further, so that only her shoulders were above the water. Below, he caressed and squeezed until she felt so weak, she wasn’t sure her legs would even support her. She closed her eyes, let her head loll back, and held onto Nick, enjoying the warm water lapping against her shoulders and the pure ecstasy his hands were giving her.
But soon enough, they were both craving more. As they rose out of the water, she pulled herself up against him again and slid slowly back down his chest, leaving a trail of kisses down the center of his dripping torso. When she reached the waterline, she sucked in a deep breath and ducked below the surface, continuing her descent until she reached the waistband of his boxers. In the freedom of the water, it only took a moment to slide off the shorts, and her panties as well. She did both in one breath, then surfaced, panting with a mix of exertion and excitement.
She brought her legs up and around him again, and his arms encircled her waist. Her fingers grasped the edge of the pool, and she threw her head back as he slipped inside of her beneath the water. A new warmth filled her on the inside, as they quickly found their rhythm. In and out, he pulsed, like the gentle lapping of waves on the beach, the endless rise and fall of the tide. It was slow and sensual, yet it was enough to make her heart race and his breathing grow shallow.
In that moment, she couldn’t help but think that it was the best sex she’d ever had. Filled with the passion fueled by their long time apart, uninhibited in the water, they made love like they never had before. Flushed and panting, Claire felt her whole body tremble as Nick thrust with new vigor. Her fingertips clutched the marble ledge tighter, while his hands found a firm hold on her hips. He led their dance, back and forth, in and out. The tempo grew faster and faster, and finally, he let out a strangled groan, throwing his head backwards, and she felt a burst of molten warmth inside her.
A sigh escaped her lips, as she relaxed back into the water, and he withdrew from her. Panting and exhausted, they floated in a dreamlike state to the shallowest part of the pool, where the marble steps descended straight into the water. There they rested, Nick letting his seat sink to the bottom step and pulling Claire onto his lap. She let one arm drift lazily around him, while the other roamed his body, lingering on his chest, lovingly stroking his arm up and down, even venturing beneath the water to his stump.
“I missed you,” she murmured, moving her hand away from his thigh and around his waist to embrace him. A lump of emotion rose in her throat, surely brought on by alcohol and orgasm, and before she knew it, there were hot tears in her eyes. She couldn’t find the words to explain them right then, not even in her own thoughts, but as a single teardrop slid down her cheek and mixed with the beads of chlorinated water on her skin, she buried her face in his chest and repeated the only thing she could think to say. “God, Nick, I missed you so much.”
***
Lyrics: “You Give Love a Bad Name” by Bon Jovi, “Fat Bottomed Girls” by Queen