Page 19 of Mom-Com
I backed away and nodded. “Totally understand. See you here at drop-off?”
“You bet. Have a killer Monday.” She flashed that broad grin and rushed past me, urging the kids to get in and buckle up.
I stood straddling our property line and waved them off. I stayed until the car turned the corner and could no longer be seen.
“I wonder...” I muttered out loud, rubbing my chin and finding a spot I missed while shaving. A more important thought than my questionable grooming habits occurred to me as I stood there: was Lily-Marie acting weird because money was so tight she couldn’t afford to buy clothes? Making them was her only option? She was always wearing these beautiful sundresses. Maybe she made them all. She was a single mother, after all.
Maybe I needed to reassure her that there was nothing shameful about being frugal or making your own clothes. In fact, I admired her ingenuity. Instead of backing out of her front door yesterday, afraid for my safety, I should have been setting her mind at ease.
I ran inside my house and grabbed my laminated sheet off the kitchen counter. The list of fifty ways specifically said to take the woman clothes shopping. Well, it said to do it for a date, but I didn’t see how we could do that with three kids between us. We’d just have to take them with us.
Mind made up, I finished getting ready and climbed in my car to head to the college. My mind was spinning, but one thing was for sure: I had to set things right by being a gentleman.
* * *
I heard car doors slamming, which brought me out of my curriculum building for the new biochem level-three class I wanted to offer in the fall. Shutting my laptop, I hopped up and ran outside, stiff from sitting all day, both at school and in my home office.
Stein came walking across the lawn. “Hey, Dad.” He threw me a toothy grin, but kept walking to our house, probably to eat his habitual after-school snack. Seeing that he was home safe and acting normal, my gaze left him to settle on Lily-Marie gathering her things from the back of the car. I scanned her from head to toe, not to be a Neanderthal thinking a pretty woman was there for my viewing enjoyment—though I did enjoy it—but to see if I could discern if my homemade clothes theory was accurate.
Both of her kids had already jumped out of the car too, running inside leaving just the two of us. She was wearing one of the dresses I’d come to expect from her: soft, feminine, gorgeous. She had shapely calves that led down to tiny feet in a cork wedge heel, making her taller than she really was. I didn’t know why the combination worked, but it set my heart rate into a gallop.
“The eagles are in the nest,” Lily-Marie said with her head still in the back of her car.
I frowned. “There are eagles around here?”
Her head pulled out of the car and she smiled at me. “No, silly. It’s a phrase. You know? Like the kids are back home?”
Oh. “I got it now. An idiom.” I shoved my hands in my pockets and rocked back on my heels. I needed to hurry up and ask her to go shopping before I ruined yet another conversation with my awkwardness.
“Ohh...we got ourselves an English professor now?” Lily-Marie gave me a saucy grin and a wink, both of which hit my solar plexus the same as a physical blow.
“I-I’m sorry. I was deep into a biochem book when you got home and my brain sometimes takes a few minutes to catch up to normal conversation.” I felt a moment of relief from having explained myself, then realized I’d phrased my offhand comment as if we lived together, sharing a mutual “home.” I sucked in a deep breath and hoped she didn’t take it that way. “Here, let me help you.”
Lily-Marie handed off her large tote bag, which seemed to be as heavy as the bag of science textbooks I was always bringing home. “Thanks. I have a bunch of paperwork to go through tonight. Our department is trying to go paperless, but getting to that point takes a lot of scanning and shredding, you know?”
I nodded, understanding completely, as that was something most colleges were doing as well. Following her up the driveway, I decided to just throw it out there. Couldn’t be any more awkward than anything else I’d ever said in front of her. “So. I was wondering if you and the kids wanted to go shopping with Stein and me soon. He needs some new clothes and we always end up arguing over what to buy. I figure if we make it something fun with you guys it won’t be such a chore. What do you say?”
She opened the front door for me and let me walk inside before dropping her purse and keys on the entry table. “Sure. Probably the weekend would be best.” She pulled off her jacket and hung it on a hook. “I bet Clark and Milly could use a few things too.”
I nodded, inordinately pleased she’d said yes. The bar stool chair looked like the best place to unload a ridiculous amount of paperwork. My back was still turned when I casually added, “Maybe we can find you some things too.”
Immediate silence behind me told me she’d either left the room or I hadn’t been very sly with my comment. In my extensive experience, the answer to most troubling questions was usually “user error.” I’d always had a hard time connecting with people in a real way. My words tripped over themselves on the way out of my mouth to land in a clumsy heap in front of my intended recipient. I’d come to expect it, but I’d never had a visceral loathing of my inability to converse naturally like I did in that moment.
I spun around to see Lily-Marie staring at me, eyes guarded, head cocked to the side. “That’s a strange comment,” she said slowly.
I tried valiantly to assemble the words in my head before they left my mouth, but as they say, “go big or go home.” Like rogue soldiers, the words jumped ship and rearranged, dumping a stinking pile of nonsense at her feet. “Well, you were making a skirt. And you’re a mom. So, I figured some shopping would be helpful.” I winced.
I’m no expert when it comes to women, but her hand fisting on her hip and the arch of one eyebrow said things were about to get ugly.
“I’m sorry, what?” She inhaled quickly and I guessed correctly again that was a rhetorical question. She unleashed and I took the hits. “Because I’m a mom I need help picking out clothes? You don’t like the way I dress? ’Cause I’m pretty sure I never asked your opinion on what I choose to wear on my own body. And just because I was making a skirt doesn’t mean I’m hard up for clothes. I was making a skirt to catch a man. The last thing I need is to go shopping with an egotistical male who will influence my young daughter with stupid ideas like needing a man to pick out your clothes because her own opinion isn’t valid.”
She shook her head and seemed to be collecting more weapons in this verbal warfare I found myself in. I had to jump in before this went from bad to worse. I flung my hands out in the universal sign of peace.
“No. Stop. Please. That’s not what I meant. I would never insinuate that you need my opinion. I happen to love everything you wear, if you someday ask for my opinion. You have to understand. I don’t say things right. I never have.” I ran a hand through my hair, upsetting my carefully pomaded hairstyle. I was begging for her to understand, not even pausing to wonder why her impression of me mattered so much. “I just wanted to help. You’re a single mom and if you couldn’t afford clothes, I didn’t want to stand by and do nothing. I just wanted to help. That’s all.”
She took a deep breath and the fire left her eyes with her exhale. She dropped my gaze for a moment before swinging it back and granting me a single nod. “Apology accepted. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. But I’m not hurting for money nor do I need you to buy me clothes.”
I took a step closer. “Understood. And you’re not the only conclusion jumper. Next time I’ll just ask before coming up with weird ideas.” My heart was pounding like I’d ridden twenty miles on my bike. I was awkward, but persistent. “Any chance you’re still on for shopping, though? I wasn’t kidding about Stein needing clothes. And it would be nice to spend some time together.” A bead of sweat dripped down the center of my lower back.
