Meet Me Halfway: Chapter 11
“Pull it farther over on your side.”
“I can’t, it’ll hang to the floor and block the doorway.”
“Well, it’s not going to stay up back here, the chair is too tall. The blanket will slip, the entire thing will crash on top of us, and one of us will choke on popcorn and die. What’s more important, a doorway or living?”
Standing on the arm of the couch, I stared at Layla incredulously. “We are not going to choke and die from a blanket falling on top of us.”
“Says you. This is thick, Grade A quilting. If it whacks you in the face during a scary scene, and you suck a kernel straight down your throat, I’m not performing the Heimlich on you.”
I could make out Jamie’s muffled giggles from underneath our makeshift tent. “Fine, you wretched woman.” I yanked on the blanket, evening it out across the couch and dining chair as best I could before hopping down. Adjusting the hoodie I’d come to wear every evening down over my leggings, I placed my hands on my hips and admired our creation.
Honestly, I was pretty damn proud of us. We didn’t own many blankets and our couch was as puny as it got—Garrett’s knees had practically touched his chest the night he’d played games with Jamie—but the fort was large enough for the three of us to crowd into. Whether it’d stay up after we let the dogs out of Layla’s room was another story.
“You better not be eating all the popcorn, dude face.” I leaned down, poking my head under the edge of the quilt, and searched for his face in the dark.
“I make no promises.”
Laughing, I raised up, walking over to our DVD player to start the movie. Most people would’ve thought our lack of a TV stand was trashy but having a television directly on the floor was incredibly convenient for movie parties.
Layla was spending the night at her boyfriend’s place, but when Jamie had asked her to build a tent and watch a movie with us, she hadn’t batted an eye. She’d called Rick and let him know she’d be late. I smiled at her, feeling lucky as hell to have her as a role model for my kid.
Cracking open the sodas I’d treated us to, we snuggled up on the floor, pillows strewn about everywhere. We shoved popcorn in our faces, likely all smearing butter across our chins, and watched a Halloween movie about a house trying to eat children. It was exactly what I needed to recover from the absolute hell this week.
It’d been three days since the debacles with Rob and Aaron, and I’d barely slept since. Work had gone fine, the supervisors on both sides of the company sitting down to make sure I was doing all right, yet I couldn’t lose the tension in my shoulders.
I kept waiting for Rob to appear somewhere to punish me. The idea was ridiculous, the reality being I’d probably never see him again, but my imagination wouldn’t listen.
And I hadn’t heard a peep from Aaron. No text, no call, no random car on the street. Nothing. I should be high off my relief, yet my stress level was the only thing that was high.
Although I’d never admit it out loud, I was struggling. I couldn’t get myself to focus on anything the way I needed to, but I also couldn’t relax. I was stuck in a vicious circle of losing, and honestly, I was a catastrophe waiting to happen.
But lying on the living room floor, piled up with my two besties, for a moment I could breathe and forget everything outside of our tent of happiness.
When the movie ended, and we’d all climbed out, I stared at the mess. I was usually a nut case about cleaning and always made Jamie help, but right then, I couldn’t have cared less.
“Hey, Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think I could sign up for soccer?”
I turned to give him my full attention, seeing Layla do the same. Jamie rarely asked for anything that wasn’t video game or book-related. Sports weren’t typically his thing. “What made you want to try soccer?”
He looked down, toeing the carpet nervously. “I’ve always liked soccer. I play it with my friends every day at recess, and my P.E. teacher thinks I should sign up.”
My brows dropped into a frown. “Always? Don’t get me wrong, I think that’s awesome, bud, but I’ve never once heard you talk about it. We don’t even have a soccer ball.”
He pushed his toes around some more, not meeting my eyes. Low, almost at a whisper, he said, “I didn’t want you to have to get another job if I asked to play.”
My arms went limp at my sides. My heart clenched tight, stopping the flow of blood from circulating through my body and sending a chill through me. “What?”
He glanced at Layla before looking at me. “The school league is expensive. I didn’t want you to have to work more to pay for it.” He put his hands up, as if worried I’d agree and shut the conversation down. “But my P.E. teacher told me there’s a form you can fill out so you wouldn’t have to pay for me to join. You’d only have to pay for the uniform.”
I swallowed. And then swallowed again. He wanted to play a sport. He’d always wanted to play a sport, and he’d hid it from me because—fuck, I was going to lose it. The cracks in the dam were spurting and crumbling, and I could do nothing but hold on for dear life and hope to make it to safety before it crashed completely.
“Yeah, bud,” my voice cracked, and I had to force down the lump in my throat, “you can join. When are sign ups?”
His eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning. “Next week.”
“All right. Go brush up and get ready for bed. We’ll talk more about it tomorrow and figure out what I need to do.”
He spun, running around the mass of blankets, but stopped at the hallway entrance. Turning to look at me over his shoulder he said, “I love you, Mom.”
I watched him disappear into the bathroom when the first tear pooled in the corner of my eye. My time was up.
“Go on.” Layla tapped me on the arm and pointed to the front door. “Go break down, it’s okay, mama bear. I’ll read with him tonight. You want me to stay home?”
I choked, the tear escaping down my face as more pooled and burned. “No, I’ll be fine.”
She gave me a small smile that didn’t match her eyes. “Yeah, you always are. Now go.”
I practically ran, my only goal being to get outside before Jamie came back out and saw me fall apart. My ass had only grazed the cement when the tears fell in earnest, leaving hot trails down my cheeks to drip off my jaw onto my clothing.
I curled in on myself, tucking my head into my knees and raising my arms to wrap around the back of my neck. My chest heaved as I pulled in large gulps of air, the silent tears forming a drenched trek down my thighs.
I tried everything, counting, counting backwards, reciting court case information I needed to test on, pinching myself, and holding my breath. But the tears kept coming, and now I desperately needed to blow my nose. Fuck. Why did it feel like every time I climbed an inch up, something kicked me in the face until I slid back a foot?
My heart hurt; a physical pain that wouldn’t lessen no matter how hard I tried. Nothing could make me feel worse than realizing I hadn’t known my child wanted something as simple as playing a freaking sport because he’d been too nervous to tell me. Nothing.
“Hey, everything okay?”
But that might come close.
My head snapped up, my swollen eyes and damp nose on full display for a man who could not have looked better. I pulled my sleeves down over my wrists, wiping at my eyes and wishing with all my might that I had an invisibility cloak I could slip over myself.
Garrett stood a few feet from my porch, appearing like a shadow in his black sweats and t-shirt. He had to be freezing, and the sudden knowledge I had his hoodie on inflamed my face. So now I was wet, swollen, and bright ass red while using his clothing as my own personal tissue. Perfect.
I thought about lying and saying I was fine, but it would’ve just made me look stupid. I was very clearly not fine. Denying the obvious would be pointless. “No. Not really.”
“Yeah, that was a dumb question.”
I winced, wiping my nose discreetly on my knee and tucking my legs in tighter to my chest. “What are you doing over here?”
He shifted his weight, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I was walking to my car and thought I heard something.”
I glanced at his feet, my eyes narrowing, which wasn’t much since they were practically swollen shut. I hadn’t thought I’d made any noise.
“You were going somewhere with no shoes on?” I hiccupped, making my words come out squeaky and pathetic.
His tongue darted out before he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth. I subconsciously clenched my thighs closer together, eyes pinned to his mouth for reasons I didn’t want to explore.
“I was…looking for something.”
“Oh.”
He pulled a hand out of his pocket, gesturing to my stoop. “Mind if I have a seat?”
A little, yes. I’d come outside to avoid an audience to my meltdown, not advertise it to the hottest man I’d ever seen. But I was taken back to that day when I found him in a similar position—minus the tear stains.
“Sure. I mean, sure, like it’s fine,” I hiccupped again and ducked my head, breaking our stare. Why was I the way I was? If awkward had a name, it’d be mine.
Garrett climbed up, slowly bending those long, thick legs to sit next to me. We couldn’t have even been a foot apart, and his warmth and smell surrounded me even more than the hoodie did, the two somehow both calming me and waking me at the same time.
It wasn’t until I smelled the real thing that I realized his hoodie had long ago stopped smelling like him. I’d worn it to bed too many times, covering it in my own, less sexy scent. At least that would make it easier to convince myself to return it. Which I would do…as soon as he left.
“You want to talk about it?”
“It’s nothing. I just needed a minute.”
“It doesn’t look like nothing, and I’m a good listener.”
Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks. Now that I’d started, I couldn’t seem to shut it off. “It’s fine.”
He leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs and side-eyeing me. “Is it about your ex-husband?”
I inhaled sharply, choking on my own saliva and proceeding to have a mild hacking fit. “No,” I croaked out.
“You sure? I could always go break the fucker’s nose if it’ll bring a smile to your face.”
I laughed then, loud and full. It was shaky and not at all attractive with my congested nose, but it felt freeing. A few bricks that’d been sitting on my heart fell away.
His head whipped in my direction, and he stared at me in a way I didn’t quite understand, but it made me feel like he was searching for something. I wiped my hands over my face again, worried I had snot smeared, or something else horrifying. “I’ll take a raincheck on that.”
He didn’t push, seeming to understand that I needed the silence to center my thoughts. I sat up straight, stretching my legs down the stairs and fighting the irrational urge to rest my head on his shoulder.
“Jamie wants to join a soccer team. Apparently, he’s wanted to for a while.”
Garrett tipped his head back, his brow furrowing at the explanation for my tears. “And that’s bad?”
“I didn’t know. He said he plays every day with friends, and I didn’t even know he liked it. He didn’t want to ask me because of the money. He was afraid I’d have to get another job. As if he thought he wouldn’t be worth it.”
I took a shuddering breath, fisting my hands in my lap and mentally swearing I wouldn’t start crying again. I was an adult, dammit.
He bent one leg, turning to rest it on the porch so he could twist toward me. “How many jobs do you have?”
“Three.”
“You just, do what? Interchange them to match full time?”
I gave a hollow laugh. “No. I work the same schedule every week, usually between sixty and sixty-five hours.”
He reared back, barely avoiding smacking his head on the railing. His eyes were the widest I’d ever seen them. “The fuck you do.”
“I do.”
“Every week?”
“Every week.”
He stared at me like I’d not only grown a third head, but a magical unicorn one. “You don’t get any kind of assistance from your ex?” He worked his jaw, looking out toward the road. “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”
I ignored the implication that Aaron was Jamie’s father. Most people assumed that, and I was too emotionally depleted to hash out my entire moldy history.
“It’s all right. No, I don’t get child support or anything. I’ve tried for years, but he takes jobs that pay under the table, so it’s never happened.”
I didn’t like thinking about how much easier our lives could’ve been if the sperm donor had just been willing to assist with the child he’d helped procreate.
Garrett’s tongue pushed into the inside of his cheek, and I could tell by the way he was looking at me that he wanted to ask something else, but he didn’t. “So, your son sacrificed something he enjoys, trying to make your life easier?”
My face crumpled, tears pooling all over again. Putting it that way fucking hurt. My chest was filling up with blood from the knife wound Garrett had just graciously given me. “Yeah,” I sobbed, “I guess so.”
“You must be one hell of a mom for that boy to love you that much.”
“No, he’s just an amazing kid all on his own.” I sniffed, pulling my legs back to my chest like an infant.
He leaned toward me and I froze, but he only flicked a mosquito off my wrist. “My parents divorced when I was a little older than Jamie. My dad…he wasn’t a good person. It took longer than it should have for my mom to gain enough confidence to leave him.”
He trailed off, removing a pack from his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. I couldn’t speak; I couldn’t fucking breathe. I knew how those stories played out, how it’d played out not only for me, but for Jamie. And my heart ached for the child Garrett was and what he might have witnessed.
“Anyway, my point is that I can guarantee without a shadow of a doubt, I wouldn’t have turned out half as good as I did if I’d had to live with my dad. A kid can be born happy, but it’s the love they receive that teaches their heart to be gentle.”
He glanced at me, and a faint blush painted his cheeks when he saw me blatantly staring at him. There was a whole lot more to this man than I’d have ever guessed after our first few interactions. I’d gotten a glimpse of the cinnamon roll hiding underneath his sexy, stoic coating, and I liked it.
I smiled and gave in to my urge, tipping my head to rest against his shoulder. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything,” he said, voice gruff, but he didn’t pull away.
Finally experiencing a touch of contentment, I watched his fingers roll the cigarette back and forth. “You know, not to be a mom or anything, but you really shouldn’t smoke.”
He huffed, curling his fist around it. “I haven’t lit one in almost two weeks.”
That would explain the unlit one the other night, I supposed. “Does holding one help with the craving?”
He shifted, and my head rose and fell with the slight movement of his shoulder. “Gives me an excuse to sit outside.”
I nodded against him but wasn’t sure what he meant. Why would someone need an excuse to be outside? Unless what that someone actually wanted, was an excuse to see if his neighbor was outside. I brushed the errant thought away. The idea was ridiculous.
We sat there like that, neither feeling the need to speak, until the sound of my front door opening had me shooting up. It was just Layla. She stepped out, coming up short when she saw us on the stairs, and her eyebrows met her hairline.
Seeing Garrett had stood and stretched out his hand, I took it, letting him pull me to my feet.
“I better go inside. Here—” I grabbed the hem of his hoodie, pulling it over my head before folding it in half and holding it out to him. Left in the brisk air with only a thin top, I shivered. “Thanks for lending it to me. Sorry I smeared my tears all over it.”
He stared at it for a moment before reaching out and taking it. His eyes dipped to where I nonchalantly tried to hide my peaked nipples, and his fists tightened around the fabric.
“No problem.” The words came out sharp like a curse, and I frowned. Why did he look angry?
“Well, goodnight then.”
“Goodnight, Madison.”
I watched him walk off, aware of Layla’s demanding ass behind me. Shaking off Garrett’s sudden change in behavior, I turned to see her texting. “What’s up?”
She shot me a glare. “I told Rick I can’t come after all. I’m heading to pick up some wine. Get inside and sit your ass on the couch. You have tea to spill.”