Page 53 of Your Hand in Mine

I know I should call her, and I’m just about to bite the bullet when my phone starts ringing. Coward that I am, I’m actually relieved to see that it’s Max calling.

“So how did it go after you two left last night?”

Max sounds hopeful, so I’m thinking I must have given off the impression that I was somewhat interested in Lexie. I don’t see how that can be, though. My head was all over the place, to the point where I can’t recall a single thing we talked about at dinner last night. I just wanted to leave.

“I dropped her at home. And not that I’d ever tell you shit about my private life, but there are no sordid details to report.”

“She liked you. A lot, from what my girl says. I have four tickets to the Pirates game next Sunday so let’s go...The four of us.”

“That’s Mother’s Day. I’m taking Olivia out of school a few days before the term ends and flying down to Florida for two weeks. And,” I pause for a second, “I don’t think it’s going to work out with Lexie. She was nice and I had a decent time, but I’m not looking for anything like that now.”

“Like what? Sex, companionship, fun? Leo, you’ve been living like a monk for the past three years.”Four years, I silently correct him. I stopped sleeping with Carrie once she told me she was pregnant. Her decision, not mine. “Just saying…Your junk is going to shrivel up and fall off if you keep going on like this.”

“Nice visual. Thanks.”

“Wait…Did you hook up last week when you were away in Miami? I knew it! You’ve been holding out on me, ya dog.”

“Didn’t hook up with anyone.”

As long as you don’t count the babysitter.

“You didn’t shag that company rep you were telling me about?”

“Who?”

“The one from Jaguar who’s been trying to lure you over to their team.”

The one who’s been emailing and texting non-stop? The one who practically offered herself up on a silver platter for me last weekend?

“Sorry to disappoint, but no.”

“Whatever, I’m just looking out for you. Hey, don’t close the door on Lexi, on Miss Jag, or on anyone else right now. Just leave yourself open to the possibility of something good.”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re in love, Max.”

“You know what? I just might be.”

“Yeah?” I’m legitimately surprised.

“Nadia is different. She’s as fun-loving and easy as the women I usually go for, but I’m loving the fact that she’s got her own thing going on. She’s smart, has a good career, she’s confident...”

“She seems great.”

“She is. And I want that for you, Leo. I was joking before, but I mean it when I say that I’m worried you’ve been out of the game for so long. I get it, you have Olivia to worry about. And I’m not a parent, but I get that she’s your top priority. But I think you shy away from meeting anyone new because of what Carrie did to you. Not every woman is Carrie.”

It’s taking everything in me not to unleash on him right now, so I end the call with some bullshit about keeping an open mind.

I didn’t think it was possible to feel worse than I did before that call, but it is.

Not very woman is like Carrie. Translation:Not every woman is a dishonest gold digger out to screw you over.

That’s how Max sees her. He was the only person who warned me off her in the very beginning. And when I was going through the worst of it, caring for an infant in the aftermath of Carrie’s death, scared out of my damn mind that I might lose Olivia—that she might not be mine—I didn’t have any kind thoughts to spare where my wife was concerned either. But that burning hatred I had for Carrie has started to fade. The years have lessened the sting of what she put me through.

I know that being angry at Max for speaking ill of Carrie makes me a hypocrite. I still say those words to myself sometimes, still look at the picture in my daughter’s room and tell that woman that I hate her. But now I also tell myself that there are good and bad in all people. And she was twenty-five when she died. How sad is that? We may have ended under the worst possible circumstances, but Carrie wasn’t evil and I don’t like talking about her that way.

“Daddy, look at this.”

Turning to see my little girl coming down the stairs, who’s sure to be the spitting image of her mother someday, I can’t feel anything but love. I’m not all the way there, but all that bitterness and hate is slowly giving way to gratitude.

---