Page 73 of The Art of Being Merry
Not after tonight, yet another notion I don’t have time to contemplate now, no matter how deep it is.
22
clem
I need to go.I need to get home to my kids, to tuck them into bed, to say goodnight.
Yet, I’m too comfortable to move. My body’s draped over Dax’s, and his fingers weave in my hair. The feeling is serene.
Ironically, I’ve let go of the guilt. Probably with the first orgasm Dax drew out of me. I felt lighter, sated, alive. More alive than I’ve felt in a long time.
Dare I say ever?
Or maybe it’s a different feeling of being alive. Because giving birth to both of my boys, watching them hit their first milestones, has made me feel alive. This is different.
I feel more me.
More Clementine Powell soon-to-be-back-to Gibson.
The ringing of my phone from the other room pulls me from my thoughts. I set a separate ringtone for Shania, and even though it’s not her, I should check to see who it is. I have to get up anyway.
“I should check that and be on my way,” I say, dread at the latter part heavy in my voice. I don’t want to leave this cocoon, wanting more time to be Clementine the woman before being Mama again.
“Do what you must.” His playful tone opposes his words.
I scamper from bed, wrapping myself up in a towel hangingon the back of his door, the first thing I notice. By the time I’m in the living room, the phone’s stopped ringing. Seeing Willa’s name, I figure I’ll call her back. But then she sends a text.
Where are you?
To get the outcome earlier, I return her call.
“Where are you?” she repeats her message.
“Out. Why?”
“Yes, Clementine. I know you’re out. I’m at your house, and you’re not.”
My feet are on the move at her statement, almost feeling like I’m in trouble even though she’s not my mother, nor am I a kid. Some habits are hard to break.
“Why are you at my house?”
I can’t recollect her telling me she’d be stopping by. Not that she can’t stop by uninvited at any point. It’s part of the reason I’m here in Winterberry Junction. Since she’s been in Vermont for the last four years, I’ve missed the way we’d get together any day, any time.
“Need your advice on something.”
“In person?”
“Yeah.” She seems a little shaken.
“Oh. Is everything okay?” My mind dredges up worst-case scenarios, but I don’t want to lose the glow I’ve got going on. Hopefully, her issue isn’t too horrible.
“Oh, yeah. It’s something for Evelyn. I got new artwork for the books, but a picture won’t do them justice.”
“I told her they’re amazing,” Shania calls out in the background, “but she doesn’t trust my opinion. I’m only her biggest fan.”
“Tell her to get in line,” I joke with a laugh. “I’ll be home shortly. Can’t wait to see them.”
“Okay, I’ll wait. Autumn’s here to pick up Shania. Should I send them home?”
