All the Waters of the Earth (Giving You ... #3) (16 page)

I beamed. “That will work.” And I reached around his suit-clad body and gave him a huge hug.

“Lucy?”

“Yeah, Mom?”

“What happened today in court?”

It was later. Jake had gone back to work, I went over to my house, gave Rob a hug, told Sara everything, she left, and I worked. Then I started making dinner and my mom called. Grateful to have my mother in my life, I told her almost everything, meaning I didn’t tell her about the sex. I did tell her that we had won in court, that it was just the first round, that Carlos wasn’t watching Rob on weekends, and that I might have a new boyfriend and that could maybe get me in trouble.

"Oh, mija, Mister Jake couldn’t get you in trouble.  He told the truth.  And he liked the tamales, no?"

My mom could be very cute. But the fact that she was completely supportive of me and my decisions—whether they were good ones or not—was something I tried not to take for granted. She didn’t meddle too much and she didn’t tell me what to do. She let me make my mistakes and then held my hand as I recovered from them. I was one of the lucky ones.  By the accident of birth, I’d ended up with great parents. I was grateful for the fact that my mom and dad were in my life and were loving, reasonably well-adjusted people. A lot of people did not have that.

Like Jake.

No family around to speak of, no home, losing himself in the law, when he really had the soul of an artist. He was lovely, in a melancholy way, and not just because of his looks. It was the way he acted, thinking of me over himself. Mistakes? Sure, he made plenty, and I am sure he’d make more. But I couldn’t wait until he came home.

Came home.

This wasn’t his home but it might as well be. He said he didn’t have one. Sometimes home is with a person, not a place. I loved my duplex and was proud of the fact that I bought it with money I earned from my writing, but at the end of the day, home for me was with Roberto.

But being in Jake’s arms also felt like a type of home. I felt cared for, comforted, and secure. Sometimes, when I wasn’t in his arms and he was being Mr. Distracted Businessman, I felt like shit, but when he touched me that never happened. His touch was strangely familiar—I felt completely at ease and really excited at the same time.

I’d never had an adult man to cook for besides my dad. With Jake living next door, he bypassed my previous dating rules. I’d hoped that Rob would think of him as a babysitter and a neighbor.  It seemed like he did. I had to be careful, though. I didn’t want Rob to get too attached to him and then have things not work out with Jake. It was hard enough to break up with a guy.  I didn’t want to get Rob’s emotions involved in addition. I suppose with Rob knowing that Jake was only living next to us during the time that his house was being remodeled, he would understand that having Jake as our neighbor was just temporary.

I hoped.

As I talked with my mom, I assembled the chile relleno casserole that I’d told Jake about—green chiles, lots of cheese and eggs, and a whole lot of yum. It was Rob’s favorite meal, and I hoped that Jake would like it. I made a salad too, and cut up some vegetables to steam to counteract all of the richness of the dish.

I hung up with her, and at 6:25, there was a knock on my door. I looked through the peephole.  Jake, not a process server.

I was secretly thrilled that he was early. I’d worried that he would call and not show up, or be stuck at work, like the workaholic he was. But no, he came home.

And even though I’d seen him at lunchtime, he was still a treat to see. His suit was more wrinkled than usual, but he still smelled great and looked even better.

But Rob was right there as I answered the door, so I did not launch myself at my hottie.

“Hey, come on in,” is what I said instead, being cool in front of my kid.

Jake looked tired, but perked up once he walked in. “It smells so good in here.” I was amused. It was like it was the 1950s—
the way to a man’s heart
. . . But I didn’t care. I wanted to take care of him. He didn’t have anyone looking out for him.

He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I’m assuming no PDA in front of your son, right?”

“I’d appreciate that,” I whispered back.

“Well, consider the thought,” he continued quietly. “I want to kiss your adorable nose.”

For some reason this made me blush. He touched my cheek and then called, in a louder voice, “Hey Rob, can we put it in two player?” Then he took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and walked over to Rob, who was sitting on the floor. Jake joined him, wearing his tie and suit pants, and began to play Minecraft with my twelve-year-old son.

He’d learned how to play.

He’d let my son teach him how to play.

And just like that Jake had my heart.  Completely.

Seriously
.

That did it. Hanging out with my son, doing something simple and everyday. I was already falling for my charming neighbor, I’d admit it, and I was falling fast. I didn’t know what was going to happen with him and I didn’t know what kind of secrets he was holding inside him, but I was at the point where not going further with him would break my heart. I was taken by this man, who paid attention to my son, and paid attention to me, even when he worked as if he had to.  As if working was a compulsion for him.

I was going to find out why and see if I could fix it. 

Now I knew this was dangerous territory. I know that you shouldn’t try to fix another person, especially a man. People only changed when they were ready to change.  You couldn’t force it. But I was still guided by that saying that I’d heard before—
the busiest man in the world will make time for you if he is in love with you
. I didn’t think that Jake was in love with me, but I knew that he was interested. Those drawings showed it. And I knew that he was trying to make time for me. So I was willing to risk it, willing to try a relationship with him. Yes, I knew I could get hurt. But I couldn’t not do it at this point. And I was also willing to see if I could show him that he could work less and still thrive. 

Maybe I could convince him to show his work in public.

I didn’t want to think about what would happen if this went bad. I guess he’d move away and I wouldn’t have to see him again. But it felt too good being with him not to risk my heart. So I decided to try it.

I gathered us all at the table, and we lit candles. The house was decorated for Christmas, plus the Minecraft things that Rob and Jake had made the other day, so I put a few of them on the table. It was funny, but it worked for me. And it felt right for Jake to be there with us, chatting, telling us about his day, asking us about ours, and talking about what he intended to do in Minecraft with Rob as we ate.

And, to be even more perfect, Jake rolled up his sleeves after dinner, tucked his tie into his shirt front, and helped with the dishes.

I wasn’t sure where I’d found this guy.

Still, I knew, he had some demons that we needed to address.

But for now, it was enough just to do these simple, ordinary household things with him.

And since he didn’t really have a home, I wondered—were they simple or ordinary to him?

Later that night, after Rob had gone to bed, I sat outside with Jake on my little loveseat. He’d taken off his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. Because of a chill in the air, we huddled under a blanket, my feet in his lap.

“You could go change out of your work clothes,” I suggested.

“Good idea.” He lifted both of my feet over back to me, stood up, and said, “I’ll be right back.” He leaned over and gave me my first kiss of the night, a light one. And then he kissed my nose tenderly. “Thanks for dinner, Lucy. It meant more to me than you know.”

He went into to my house through the patio doors, and I heard him open the front door and close it. A few moments later, he stepped out onto his patio, wearing blue plaid pajama bottoms and a black t-shirt. He vaulted the low gate between our patios and sat down next to me, rearranging my feet over his lap again, putting his arm around my shoulders. I cuddled into him.

“I like you in your suit, but I also like that I get to see you out of it.”

He groaned and squeezed me with both arms. “You can’t say sexy things like that to me when your son is in there sleeping.”

“I meant it in a couple of ways, Jake. Not just the, you know, naked way, but also the private side of you.”

Very slowly, he turned to look at me. His eyes darted up and down my face and then he looked crestfallen.

“What?” I laughed, giving him a tiny push.

“If I kiss you now the way I want to, I’m not going to want to stop.”

“So talk.” Frankly, though, the self-imposed restraint on affection was hard on me too. I couldn’t get my fill of him. But I was enjoying his physical, comforting presence and for now, that would have to do. He put his chin on top of my head and held me.

After a moment, he started talking.

“I don’t know everything about my parents because I wasn’t around for some of it, obviously, but also as a kid, you don’t know all that is going on. So I know this. My mom was from a wealthy family back east, in New York.”

“Manhattan?”

“Westchester County. Back then, my dad was an artist. He did weird shit. Sort of post-Jackson Pollack.  Throwing paint on canvas and seeing what happens. Mixed media too. They fell in love and when my mom announced to her family that she was pregnant by the stereotypical poor, starving artist, they threw her out.”

“No!” I yell-whispered.

“I’ve never met my grandparents on either side. So I guess that there was something about my dad that my mom loved and my grandparents couldn’t stand. They eloped and had me almost immediately.”

I liked the idea of Jake being a love child, born from passion, but his background was incredibly heart wrenching.

He continued. “Three years later they had my brother, Ethan. I think at first, it was very romantic for my mom. Here she was, married to this artist, you know, who was unpredictable. He’d do things, like bring home a monkey, which was fun for us kids, but there was bad stuff too, like him not coming home for three days, leaving her with us. And that got old real quick.

“The poverty also wore her down. My dad didn’t seem to care, but since she had grown up used to being surrounded by things, it hardened her. When I was little, she was so soft. And then she got rougher and more brittle, like she was going to break if we touched her. We eventually made it out here to California and you know, Santa Barbara is both great and tough if you are poor. The weather makes it so that you can live outside for most of the year. But it’s expensive.”

Didn’t I know it. Santa Barbara was a place where people walked over the homeless to open the front door to Saks Fifth Avenue, not that I shopped at Saks. I’d never seen such a dichotomy between the rich and the poor as I’d seen in Santa Barbara.

Then I thought of something. “I thought you had said that your dad was a workaholic.”

“He wasn’t when I was really little. He just did his art and he didn’t make much money from it. He was obsessed with all these weird, creative ideas. Meanwhile, I thought it was a good day when I got dinner.”