Page 21 of The Art of Being Merry
Next, she chats with a few of the customers, which is totally sweet. I snap a bunch of photos for her to send to her assistant for her social media accounts. My sister’s so smart, she even brought her “Evelyn Ravenhurst” glasses to pull off the look.
When she decides she needs a new book to read in her “spare” time, I pick out a few books for the boys. I take ten minutes to Willa’s twenty. For someone who hardly ever leaves the house, she sure knows how to spend lots of time out of it.
“I hope you’ll come back and bring your boys,” Alanna gushes as we’re checking out, her smile big.
“They’ll love it.” I’m not just saying it. Atlas, especially. He’s loved books since he was little. Jace tolerates listening to books, but Atlas is a reader.
“Can’t wait to meet them. Where are they now?”
“They’re at my house with Dax.”
As soon as I mention his name, her demeanor changes. “Dax. Kids. Babysitting. Ugh.” If her awkward one-word sentences don’t convey her feelings, her disapproving expression surely does. “How’d you make that happen?”
Most of what I know about Dax’s dating and relationship history filters through Willa’s lens, and the storytelling one at that. Not that I’m looking for anything with him beyond his help today, but Alanna has opinions. Strong ones.
I shrug. “He offered. So far the boys seem to be fine, but who knows what I’ll find when I’m back home.” I chuckle, more for Alanna’s benefit than mine. Long as Atlas doesn’t work his magic on him, we should be good.
“Good luck to you with that man. Not the settling-down type. Especially with kids involved.” She balls up her fists on the counter and seems like she wants to share more.
“Well, we should be on our way,” Willa admits, grabbing her bag of books. “See you in a few weeks.” She rushes me out of the store and into the van. “Man, what I wouldn’t give to dig deeper intothathistory. But at least you can take my word for him not being the settling-down type.”
I let her words nestle in as we’re finally on the way to dropping her off at home. I checked in with Dax, who assured me things were still great, yet I’m fully prepared to walk into a disaster when I arrive home.
“Clementine, this was a blast. Good idea. Let’s do it again soon, yeah?”
“Sure thing, Willafred. In my spare time.” I try to contain the bitterness, but some spills out. It’s not often I regret the life choices I’ve made, but it was freeing not having to worry about how the kids were behaving, listening to endless comments and questions about nothing at all, and only having to take care of my needs for a few hours.
“How about this? Beckett and I take the boys for a sleepovernext weekend, and you do whatever you want for the night. By yourself. Or not.” She waggles her brows. “We can come to your house or take them to ours. Beckett will love having more people to entertain.”
I chuckle. “He will. Sold. We’ll figure out the plan as it gets closer.”
“Great.” She peeks in the back of the van. “Want to help me with my bags?”
“Not particularly. What good is having a hot husband if not to carry your bags?”
“I mean, sex.” If I were drinking something, the liquid would have sprayed out. Except she’s not wrong, as she made clear earlier.
I don’t know what that’s like. Sex, sure, but the way she describes her sex life is foreign. That’s not been my experience with Keith or the one before. It was more a scratching of an itch, a means to an end. I wonder what it would be like to have sex with a hot guy, one who knows what he’s doing.
An image of Dax fills my mind, which I immediately shut down. Like that’s ever going to happen. Even for a fling. I wouldn’t even know how to initiate such a conversation with him if given the chance. As if he’d even agree to one time, if only to feel how good it could be.
Willa’s hand on my arm rips me from thoughts of sex with Dax.
“You’ll find someone, you know. Someone deserving of you and the boys. Someone who will be the total package and you’ll understand.”
“I wasn’t . . . ” She raises a brow, challenging me. Damn twin senses. I exhale loudly and slump against the seat. “My marriage to Keith resulted in my boys and taught me what I don’t want in a relationship. That counts for something.”
“Surely. There’s always something to learn from every experience. And you don’t have to have your life figured out by the time the ink dries on your divorce. You’re young and vibrant. Super talented. The right man is going to be freaking fortunate to have you. But until then, take care of yourself, Clem. Self-care, especially during the holidays. You’ve had a stressful year. Use thesenext few weeks to take a load off, revel in the holiday spirit, infuse joy into your life.”
My head rotates to take her in. “Sounds like something I’ve said to you in the past.”
She shrugs. “I understand them now, but they were wise words. You should heed past Clem’s advice. Love you.” She taps the trunk button and hops out. From the rearview mirror, I watch her at the back of the van as she loads her arms with bags. “Kiss the boys and tell them I love them.”
“Will do.”
“Oh, and hit the button, would ya?” She backs away, our eyes meeting in the mirror.
“Got it. Love you, kid. Talk later.”
