The Player and the Single Mom

“Want a beer?”I asked Miles the next day, opening my refrigerator.

“Yeah, sure.”

When I turned around with two beer bottles in my hands, Miles was standing at my kitchen island staring at something.

“Why is there a picture of you and Sera Huxtaby swimming with dolphins?” he asked.

Shit. I had tucked it away before I’d left for Porte French, but I’d pulled it out this morning to stare at it because I was an idiot who clearly liked to torture himself.

“Last time I checked there was no ocean in Nashville.” He waved the photo I’d left lying on the counter. “Oh, look, it says Cancun on it. And you went to Cancun in February. What a coincidence.”

“Totally. We ran into each other at the resort,” I said, determined to at least try to lie my way out of it since I’d promised Sera I would maintain the secret. “How crazy is that?”

“So crazy it’s just about impossible. You’re telling me that you stayed at the same hotel as a struggling single mom on a budget?” Miles pointed to the watermark. “The motherfucking Four Seasons. Sera can’t afford that. Don’t try to play me.”

I shrugged and twisted my beer cap off.

“Come on, man,” Miles said. “I saw you two at New Year’s Eve and you said you were just friends. What the hell is really going on?”

“We just had some fun, that’s all. She didn’t want to bring any of that home with us. I haven’t seen her since we got back, so don’t make a big deal out of it. She didn’t want anyone to know.”

“It was a booty call vacation?”

The words offended me. What me and Sera had shared was much more than that. But I said, “Yes. She just wanted some time away from her regular life. That’s all.”

She most definitely didn’t want a relationship. Not with me, not with anyone, from what she had said.

“You said you haven’t seen her, but have you all been burning up each other’s phones while you were gone? You just got back to Nashville.”

“No. No texts, no DMs. Okay? Just fucking drop it.” I put my beer to my lips.

Miles eyed me. “Damn. You like her, don’t you?”

“I could always count on you to mind your own business.” That was my final answer.

“I have to tell Toni. I’m not keeping a secret from my girl.”

“I understand. Do what you gotta do.” I didn’t support keeping secrets in a relationship. “Sorry I left this thing lying out. I wasn’t trying to pull you into something.”

Miles sighed. “Now you’re making me feel bad.”

That made zero sense. “Why?”

“Because you like her.”

“I’m fine, Williams. Let it go.” I was fine. For the most part.

It wasn’t like I’d given up. I was never going to give up. I was just regrouping.

Waiting for a sign from the universe.

I was one-hundred-percent sure it would be delivered to me Saturday when Sera brought the kids to my house.

Sera

Toni stirredthe eggs boiling in the water on my stove, prepping for an Easter weekend of dying eggs with the kids. Normally I was looking forward to the activity, but this time I felt nauseous. I had to keep breathing through my mouth.

“The smell of these eggs is making me sick. I don’t know what’s going on the last few weeks but I’m exhausted and everything smells bad to me.” I pinched my nostrils shut and took a deep breath. “Are those eggs bad?”

“They smell fine to me,” Toni said. She leaned over the pot and took a whiff. “They just smell like eggs.”

“Maybe you’re stressed out,” Helena said.

That made me snort. “I’m always stressed out. What makes this any different?”

Though I had to say, since I’d gotten back from Mexico I had worked really hard on finding time to sneak away for myself, even if it was only five or ten minutes at a time. A vacation had reminded me that when mama is in a good place, the kids are too.

Only right now I didn’t like this particular place I was in. I pressed my hand against my chest. “My boobs are killing me. It’s like stress with extended PMS.”

Toni eyed me. “Wait a minute. Are you wearing a different bra? Like a push up? Because suddenly you have some where you normally have none.”

I had noticed that too and I wasn’t angry about it. It seemed like in general I was more aware of my body since Mexico. Since Cash. I had taken more time to do my hair and makeup on occasion. He had definitely reminded me what I enjoyed about being a woman, so much so that on a daily basis I wondered if I’d made a huge mistake refusing to see him. I wanted him to see my transformation and I thought about him constantly.

Sure, I couldn’t date him, but why couldn’t I see him on occasion for some attention? But I had probably ruined that by rejecting the suggestion at the airport.

Now I started to feel a tremor of alarm and it had nothing to do with that decision. “I gained five pounds on that trip and never lost it. It all seems to be in my chest. Is that weird?”

“You look just like you did when you were expecting your kids. Good thing you’re not having sex or I’d be worried right now if I were you.” Helena looked amused.

I felt even more sick. Helena had confirmed the suspicion that had suddenly appeared in my head and now couldn’t shake. “Oh no. It can’t be that. No way. I will freak out if that’s what it is.”

My sister stared at me, confused. “Wait. You’re having sex? With who? When? Your kids are around all the time.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware of that. But not in Mexico.” I couldn’t be pregnant. There was no way. Having Marigold was an act of science and God.

Helena’s jaw dropped. She looked scandalized.

Toni looked gleeful. That’s because she was well aware who I’d had sex in Mexico with. Miles had told her the day before after he’d seen a photo of me and Cash together.

“Mexico?” Helena said. “You had vacation sex? That sounds dangerous.”

“I think it’s amazing,” Toni said. “With who? Was it a husband and wife looking to spice things up?”

That caught me enough off guard that I stopped having a mini-attack to scoff at her, even though I knew she was just messing with me. “No! You think I went three years without sex after fourteen years with the same man only to jump into bed in Mexico with a married couple of total strangers for my first time out of the gate?”

Toni shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems safer to have the woman there too. You know, so you know he’s not a serial killer. Was it a bachelor party? A bunch of drunk guys?”

“Please tell me it was just a nice single man from Poughkeepsie,” Helena said.