“Fair enough.” I say. “Did you sniff your wife’s panties?” I tease. I just can’t let it go. I’m having too much fun with it.
He shakes his head. “I did… at the beginning. Bridget always had the most beautiful undergarments. All her clothing was top of the line, and her shoes too. Red bottoms and studded Valentinos were favorites. I suppose they still are…” His words trail off.
“Well, if you can afford it… why not,” I say. “I’m more of a Chanel woman myself, but I don’t have much. Donovan left us in good shape, but I’m not stupid. I know I need to save for retirement, for Ethan’s education and wedding.”
He smiles. “Wow… you’re thinking way ahead. I like that.”
“I need to. I need to be responsible for my boy.”
“That’s great, Grasshopper.”
“How about your mystery woman? Did she like fancy shoes too?” I don’t know why, but I want to know everything about her.
He shakes his head. “No… she was a simple woman. She liked vintage clothing, and she collected brooches. She didn’t have much money. She was a kindergarten teacher.”
Oh great… she was a saint.
He smiles again. “She didn’t like it when I bought her expensive things.”
I laugh. “She sounds weird,” I joke.
He reaches for his glass of water. “You… you’re funny sometimes.”
I shrug. “I try… not as funny as Rosetta.”
“Yes… I kind of miss her.”
“So… you and Bridget broke up because of this mystery woman,” I go on. I just can’t let it go. I’m shameless. I’m just so curious about her, I can’t stand it.
“Mirella was her name,” he reminds me. “And yes… she had a lot to do with it, but essentially, we separated because Bridget was deceptive.”
I nod quietly, completely riveted.
“She deceived me more than once… I found out after the fact, and when I did, I couldn’t stay with her. Not even for the children.”
“What?” I ask. “What did she do?”
His grin is wide. “You are a very nosy grasshopper.”
I stare down at my plate, ashamed. “I know… I’m sorry.”
He digs into his pasta. “No worries.”
He never answers my question, leaving me to wonder, and driving me absolutely insane in the process.
I wish Boss Man were an open book, but he isn’t. And for someone as curious as I am, that’s a very hard pill to swallow.
“What do you think of this one?” I ask Ethan, holding up the army green dress. It’s a simple cotton button shirt dress, nothing too sexy. I certainly don’t want to give Samuel the wrong idea. We’re just friends.
“Pretty,” Ethan says. When I ask him about the blue one, he says “Pretty” again. And when I show him the brown one, he shakes his head. Yes, I’m taking fashion advice from a two-year old.
“Mommy’s going to dinner tonight,” I tell him. “And tomorrow night too. Mommy is very popular all of a sudden.”
He grabs one of my shoes and knocks the chunky heel on the floor. This is one of his favorite games.
“But you’re still my number one man,” I tell him. “Samuel is just a friend, and Weston is Mommy’s boss,” I explain, despite the fact that he can’t possibly comprehend a single word I’m saying. “But he also makes Mommy feel good… makes her heart beat really fast, like it used to with Daddy.”
Another pang of guilt hits me. I hate it.
I stare at the red dress hanging on my door. It’s casual but sexy, and I have the perfect cardigan to wear with it. That’s my Saturday dress.
“Auntie Abby is coming over to look after you tonight,” I tell him. “And tomorrow, auntie Claudia is coming over. Don’t you have the best aunties?”
He laughs at my words. He always laughs. He has such a happy, sweet disposition, just like his father did. I’m a very lucky mom that way.
Technically, Claudia and Abigail are not his aunts, but I’m sure he will always think of them that way. They’ll hopefully be there to watch him grow up and become the man he is destined to be.
The small restaurant is busy, a popular Mexican food joint. It’s kitschy. Paraphernalia from Mexico line the walls, and the tablecloths are red and green, but apparently the food can’t be beat. I’ve ordered the fish tacos and can’t wait to dig in.
Samuel is looking nice tonight in dark pants and a black pullover. He may or may not have made an effort. I can’t really tell. I know I certainly haven’t.