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Authors: Faith Andrews

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BOOK: Man of My Dreams
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“Babe, I really want to get out. Look at me...” I flip my flat, hanging hair and pull at a piece of the threadbare cotton drooping off my legs, “I’ve resorted to ponytails and sweatpants, Dec. It’s become my flipping uniform. If we go, I can pick up something new to wear while we’re at the mall. Something
sexy
,” I wink. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Now if I were a guy, and I saw the desperate I-need-a-night-out-look I’m giving my husband, I would race over to my wife, tell her how beautiful she is and promise her the date night she so desires. But Declan is a guy—he doesn’t think like a woman and that’s not what he’s about to do.

He rubs his face, paying close attention to his temples, and lets out a long sigh, “Fine. But you make the arrangements and I can’t promise I won’t be yawning by the time the appetizers come. And don’t you and Grace get any after party ideas. Dinner and home. It’s been a crazy week.”

Oh thank you, Mr. Take-All-the-Fun-Out-of-Everything!
Even though I want to kid him about his lack of enthusiasm, the idea of eating in peace, in a restaurant that’s not a chain, with adult conversation—I cannot suppress the deafening squeal that comes next.

“Thanks, babe. I’ll go make the calls now. Give them some syrup. I’ll be right back.”

After phone calls to my generous in-laws and Grace, I’ve set the plans in motion. I make reservations at our favorite Mexican restaurant and hop into the kitchen, dreaming of frozen sangrias and fresh enchiladas.

 

 

Okay, so the mall wasn’t a total flop like I’d expected it to be. The girls took adorable pictures with Santa; Charlie actually sat on his lap. Declan got a book he’s been wanting, and I got this super sexy mini dress that I can’t believe I fit in. Stretch marks and muffin top concealed, I’m rocking it.

“You look so good, Mia. Trying to get lucky tonight, huh?” Grace jokes with me while the guys are at the bar ordering drinks.

“Trying, not necessarily happening though. Declan already warned me that he would be
tired
tonight. I thought the ‘I’m tired’ thing was an excuse uninterested housewives made. I’m totally off my game these days.” I glance down at the basket of tortilla chips begging to be plunged in salsa.

“Oh shut it. You’re insane and you’re not off your game. This is what happens after kids, chicky. I can’t remember the last time Eric and I did it. Come to think of it, I should tell him to get me two sangrias—up his chances for a roll in the hay.”

Our shoulders shake with silent laughter, but I can’t help feeling disappointed, though I’m not even sure why. “Well
our
last time was this morning. Declan woke me up with a rather dexterous surprise. I really can’t complain.” I wink at Grace and give in to the chip that’s calling my name.

“So why are you then?”

“I don’t know, Grace. He’s been weird lately. I know life isn’t a fairytale, but Declan once was my prince. He’s been distant. I know the kids are a lot to handle, and I know he’s stressed being the sole provider for our family, but…”

Grace leans over to squeeze my hand. I take that as my cue to gear up for the pep talk she’s always been so good at dishing out. “But nothing, Mia. Everything’s fine, you’re just reading too much into it. You’re stuck in the monotony of motherhood, that’s all it is. Maybe you two should go on a mini vacation. Just the two of you.”

Dalai Lama strikes again.
I want her to be right. I want to suggest this to Declan. The thought of a weekend of talking and cuddling and making love whenever and wherever we please has me mulling over names of nearby cities and hotels, but I just can’t shake this feeling that something’s bugging him. He’s distant and I don’t like it. But I can’t dwell on it or solicit advice from Grace much longer because the guys are heading back to us with our very large drinks.

As the men approach and extend our frosty cocktails to us, Grace blurts out, “Dec, your wife looks hot tonight. Don’t ya think?”

I kick Grace under the table, causing her to wince.
Subtle, Grace, real subtle.
Declan sits down next to me, adjusts his seat and places his arm around my bare shoulders. Even this little bit of familiar contact relaxes me. That’s where his arm belongs—forever around his girl.

“Yes, Grace, but she always looks hot.” He bows down to kiss the top of my head, then nuzzles his nose in my hair. “Even when she’s in uniform.”

I giggle at the private joke and the way his breath tickles my ear. I flashback to the way his breath tickled my thigh this morning and a sudden throbbing invades my panties. Okay, so maybe I
was
imagining things. The effect this man has on me—no amount of time or number of kids can take that away.

“Oh, God. You two make me sick.” Grace winks at me, and I know with the mere blink of her smoky eye she is reiterating the wise words she spoke moments ago.

Over our meals we talk a little about the kids and their latest antics. Charlie recently shocked us by pouring a whole glass of apple juice over Cara’s head because her sister took her favorite crayon while they were coloring. Instead of reprimanding her the way a normal mother would, I busted out in laughter at the sight of a stunned Cara with drops of juice trickling off of her curly blond hair. Every set of sisters aren’t necessarily meant to be best friends. Sometimes mine are, but most days they fight like WWE wrestlers.

Grace’s son Brandon, on the other hand, is an angel. He was born right in between Cara and Charlie, and when the three of them are together, we can’t separate them without prying their tiny grips off each other. I don’t know what’s making Grace wait to have another. Then again, she hears me complaining about being outnumbered all day so it’s probably my fault.

I want to change the direction of the conversation. We came out to get away from the kids, not talk about them all night, but before I have the chance Eric steals Declan’s attention with an ear full of questions about Eric’s recent guitar lesson. It seems Eric has all the time in the world for new hobbies, but, by the looks of Grace’s ragged nails and frayed cuticles, she can’t get away from her son long enough for a quick manicure once in a while. But, if I know Grace, and I do, it’s okay. She would say that these are the things we forgo as doting wives and privileged, stay-at-home moms. There is no ‘me time’ anymore. It’s a sad price to pay, but so worth it.

“Well, looks like we’ve lost them to their rock star fantasies.” I say, nudging Grace. It’s just a matter of time before Declan and Eric are doing their best air-guitar impressions.

It’s cute though. I’m happy that my best friend’s husband and my husband are friends. Grace gave me her blessing the second she heard about how Declan sang to me on our first date. We lucked out, all around, when we found out that Declan grew up not far from the town Grace and I called home. It meant everyone would stay intact, parents, siblings and best friends wouldn’t have to trek it ‘cross country for holidays and special events. I’d hoped then that Grace would meet and marry a local guy too. So, when she met Eric, who happened to have grown up four blocks away from us, I was ecstatic, only worried that our happy tricycle of a friendship would be headed for an uncomfortable overhaul. But Eric fit right in and the rest is history.

“You know, there’s a karaoke bar right up the street. We can head over there after dinner.”

I’m so glad Grace makes the suggestion—maybe Declan won’t dismiss her the way he did me earlier with his threat of ‘just dinner and home.’ I peer at him with expectant anticipation, and for a second I think he’s about to agree, but he purses his lips and the hopefulness vanishes, just like that.

“Nah, Grace. Not tonight.”

Not tonight.
I wonder how many more times I’ll have to hear that irksome phrase before my suspicions that something’s not kosher eats away at me.

 

 

“You’re such a loser, Mia. Every other college sophomore is spending their spring break in Mexico or in some other hedonistic, drunken foam party. Why, for the love of Zack Morris, are you home with your parents?”

Grace nagged over Christmas break to no avail to get me to book a trip to Cancun in hopes that if I went, her parents would cave in and let her go too. But even though
my
parents had no problem with it, Declan and I chose this week to drive back and forth to our hometowns to meet each other’s friends and family. I can’t help but stare past Grace, at the clock, mentally counting the hours until he arrives here tomorrow.

“You’re just mad you don’t get to flaunt around in a bikini while MTV films you making a fool of yourself. That’s not my scene and now that Declan and I are serious, it’s not something he’d want me to do.”

Grace transforms from a rag doll slumped on the side of my bed to one of those Grenadier guards outside Buckingham Palace. “Oh, so now you do what he tells you to do?”

“No, crazy. It’s not like that at all. I think I love him, Grace. He very well might be THE ONE. And I know it seems fast, and sudden, and we’re still so young, but I’m not messing this up. This is what I want.” And it is what I want. I never thought I’d be saying these words at twenty years old. I wanted to ‘see the world,’ study abroad, even kiss a lot of frogs, but Declan changed all of that and I’m fine with it. I’m more than fine with it—I’m sure that he walked into that library because destiny picked him to be the man of my dreams.

“Like I said, loser…
loo-sa-er
.”

I snort at her
Dumb and Dumber
reference and hope that she’ll stop bugging me now. “That’s a lovely accent you have there. New Jersey?” It’s her turn to laugh at my quote from the same movie. When she does, I know the spring break issue is dropped.

“So, Mr. Wonderful doesn’t get here until tomorrow. Are you free to be my best friend tonight?” Grace mindlessly helps me unpack my suitcase, sorting out the dirty from the clean.

“Yes. Tonight I’m all yours. What do you want to do?”

Uh, oh. I know that look. I’m not sure I’m ready for her suggestion. “Think Friday night, two years ago.”

I know she can’t be talking about laser tag, so she can only mean The Room, the place where every high school junior or senior went on a Friday night. The Room looked like an old comfortable basement. Cushy couches, ping pong and pool tables, and even a bunch of televisions set up with different gaming consoles. Back then we all thought it was an ingenious idea, but now it seems kind of…childish. Truth is we’re stuck right in the middle of too old and too young. Too old for
Nintendo
and
Sega
, but too young for alcohol and clubbing.

“Really, Grace? The Room? Don’t you think we’re too old for that now?”

Grace lowers her chin to her chest, pouting. “I thought it would be fun. Who knows who we’ll run into. That is if the whole entire teenage population isn’t away like we should be. But maybe you’re right. You have any better suggestions?”

I feel bad for knocking down her idea. I know she misses me. I miss her too and it wouldn’t kill me to spend a nostalgic night with my best friend to make her happy and secure in our friendship. Tomorrow she’ll meet Declan for the first time and then she’ll be playing third wheel. She needs this time with me.

“The Room it is,” I wink, grabbing a dirty t-shirt from her hand. “I have kind of missed that place.”

Grace’s eyes light up and she pulls me in for a tight squeeze. When she releases me, she plops back down on the bed, smoothing her hand over the vinyl lettering on my university sweatshirt. “You know, Mia, I never imagined it this way. I just thought the two of us would go off to London or Greece, study a little, party a lot and meet some gorgeous Europeans with sexy accents who would sweep us off our feet and out of this small town for good. But I’m stuck here at community college and you’re off, spreading your wings, two hours away. I’m so happy you love school and that you’ve found Declan, but…I miss my best friend.”

I pull my sweatshirt out of her discerning grip and toss it in the hamper. She doesn’t need the reminder of our distance in her face. “I miss you too, Grace. But nothing or no one is ever going to come between us. I’m not going anywhere. In fact, Declan didn’t grow up far from here. If we do wind up together our lives will be here and everything will go back to normal. I promise, chicky. Best friends for life.”

BOOK: Man of My Dreams
10.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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