Page 8 of Tempted at Midnight

“Yeah.”

“So you grew up here, and you work at Thomas Industries, and you’re a mom...tell me more.”

She hesitated long enough that I thought she wasn’t going to answer, but then she took another drink of her beer, gave me a considering look, and gave me the highlights.

“I grew up here, the only girl out of four kids. I always wanted to go to college, but I couldn’t afford it, so after I graduated high school I applied for a job at the factory. I think they were trying to prove that women couldn’t do the work or some shit, because they hired me and spent a good year hazing me. But I grew up being harassed by dumbass boys, and this wasn’t no different. Once I proved myself, things got better. I learned a lot over the years, and most days, I really like my job.”

“What do you like about it?”

She smiled her thanks as the waitress set down a basket of fries, chewing one thoughtfully before answering. I studied her lips until I realized I was getting hard and had to look away.

“It’s the kind of job I can do and go home and not think about it. That’s perfect for me. I want to clock out and be done so I can focus on my boys.”

“You have three, I heard?”

“Yeah. Typical story. I married young, got swept off my feet by a handsome charmer. He knocked me up three times in six years, all the while keeping a couple of other girls on the side. When I found out I kicked his ass to the curb. Haven’t heard from him since.”

I frowned. “He’s not involved in your kids’ life?”

“Nope, he wanted to punish me for suing him for child support, so he abandoned his boys. Never showed up for one pick-up day ever. Eventually I went to court to rescind his visitation rights, now he can only see them if he gets permission from me. He’s never asked, not once in twelve years. I don’t know that my boys would even recognize him if they saw him walkin’ down the street.”

“Jesus.”

I stuffed a handful of fries in my mouth to keep from saying what was really on my mind. I had no respect for a man who abandoned his kids. Then again, I’d been married to a woman who’d abandoned hers.

Lillian saw right through me. “It’s okay, I came to terms with it a long time ago. Brad is an asshole, but it’s his loss really. My boys grew up to be awesome young men.”

“How old are they?”

“Luke just turned eighteen, Lincoln is sixteen, and Logan, he’s my baby, he’s fourteen. Now what about you?” she asked. “What’s your story?”

“Well, it’s really not all different from yours, I guess. I was born and raised just outside of Houston,” I started. “I waited until I turned thirty to find the love of my life, then when she didn’t show up, I convinced myself that Amy was that person. She wasn’t. The physical side was good, at least at first, but after we had three kids, she was done.”

I drained the rest of my beer and gestured for the waitress to bring me another.

“She was...unhappy in our marriage. Unhappy being a mother. She used to always tell me that I’d ruined her life and killed all her dreams by marrying her, and that the kids had ruined her body. One day she announced that she wanted out, she told me that she wanted to live the life she was always meant to have. I suggested that we go to marriage counseling, but instead she left divorce and custody papers on the nightstand and moved out that same day. She’s living in Dallas now from what I hear.”

My words were neutral, belying all the pain behind them. I still felt guilty about Amy to this day, wondering if I’d pressured her too much, or if I’d been a bad husband. I guess I’d never know. I only knew that once she was gone it was clear to me that I’d never loved her, not the way a husband should love his wife.

“At least I got my boys out of the relationship,” I continued. “But they were young when she left, and a handful, so my sister volunteered to move in and help with them. The woman is a saint.”

“How old are your boys?” Lillian asked.

“They’re twelve, ten, and eight, spaced out at two-year intervals just like yours. They keep me on my toes, for sure.”

“Martin, I really like you, but you’ve got your life in Houston, and I’ve got my life here. That doesn’t give us much opportunity for crossover,” Lillian said sadly. “It’s probably best we say goodbye, cuz I’m not seein’ this going anywhere.”

I grabbed her hand, wrapping my fingers around hers. Everywhere our skin touched sizzled. A pulse was hammering frantically in Lillian’s throat, and her eyes were wide and confused.

She was right, things between us would be complicated, but it wouldn’t be impossible.

“I’m sorry, I don’t accept your rejection,” I said firmly.

She pulled her hand back. “What? You can’t reject a rejection!”

“Sure I can.”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out.