Crossing the Lines Read online

  I hurry up the stairs to Simon’s part of the house, a place I’m only supposed to go on invitation. Luke knows he’s not allowed up there and that he shouldn’t disturb Simon. But sure enough, I hear voices through the partially opened door to his office.

  “… like going to school?”

  “Oh, sure,” Simon says.

  “Really?” Luke sounds like he doesn’t believe him. “Even math?”

  “Well, maybe like is too strong a word,” he chuckles. “I’m good with numbers now, though. You’ll be too, I’m sure.”

  “Is this right?” Luke asks.

  “Let me see. Hmm, hang on. Okay, I have two paper clips here, right?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And here’s three more. If I put them together, two plus these three, how many do I have?”

  “Five.”

  “That’s it. So two plus three equals …”

  “Five!”

  “Exactly. Good job! Write that on your worksheet.”

  “Mr. Thorne?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I think I like math.”

  “Good.”

  I tiptoe a few steps forward, peering inside. Simon is seated at his desk, typing on his computer. On the other side of the desk, Luke is kneeling on a chair, bent over his schoolbooks. The scene before me is completely unremarkable—a grown-up helping a child with his homework—yet it brings tears to my eyes, seeing the two of them together like this. Luke picks up some paper clips, hesitating for a moment before putting four in one pile and then adding three.

  “Four plus three is … seven,” he says, looking at Simon for confirmation.

  “That’s exactly right.”

  Luke’s smile is as bright as the sun as he scribbles down the answer, but what makes my heart gallop is the warmth in Simon’s gaze as he watches my son before returning to his own work.

  I retreat, barely holding it together. He might not like kids in general, but he clearly likes Luke. Don’t make a big deal of this. Don’t. Act normal.

  But it is a big deal. Simon has always been nice to my son, and generous too. This, however, is the first time they’ve spent any real time together and I don’t want to freak Simon out by showing him just how excited this makes me, seeing them enjoying each other’s company.

  I head downstairs to my bedroom and find my phone. There’s a text from Simon from over an hour ago, telling me that his dinner was canceled and that he’s coming home after all.

  Drawing a deep breath, I head into the kitchen and start looking through the freezer for something to make for dinner. I start defrosting a steak and putting together Luke’s and my dinner as well, knowing my son is probably starving by now. Simon usually takes his dinner at seven o’clock, so at least I can make that happen almost on time.

  I can’t get the image out of my mind of the two of them together, of how sweet Simon was with him, how interested in helping him. It’s the complete opposite of how Patrick used to be around Luke. I know I should march up there and get Luke. I know that. But I don’t want to. I want the two of them together; I want all three of us together. I have a fantasy of the three of us going out together on a Saturday, maybe to the zoo, Simon’s arm around me and his other hand holding Luke’s. I can see it so clearly in my mind, my dream for the future.

  “Hi, Mommy!”

  I look up, smiling at my son as he runs into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table.

  Simon follows a few seconds later. “Hello.”

  “Hello, Sir.”

  “We were just upstairs,” he says, walking over to me. “I hope that’s all right?”

  It’s so much more than all right. “Of course. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  He waves it off, leaning a bit closer to me. “I kept you up late last night.”

  “I remember, Sir.” My cheeks heat up, and he gives me a knowing smile.

  “I didn’t want to disturb you,” he whispers. “You’re very pretty when you sleep.”

  The shyness I feel hearing his compliment makes no sense. This man has seen every inch of my naked body, done unspeakably delicious things to it, and yet knowing that he covered me up and took care of my son to let me sleep feels a lot more intimate than anything we’ve done in his bedroom. It shows how much he cares.

  “Thank you. It was a nice nap. I’m a bit behind now, though,” I admit. “But your dinner shouldn’t be much later than you like.” I motion to the food that’s almost done. “This is for Luke and me.”

  “I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?” Luke asks from his seat.

  “Tomato soup and grilled cheese.”

  “Oh, yum! That’s the best! Don’t you think so, Mr. Thorne?”

  “Well, it’s been a while,” he says, smiling at Luke.

  “I’m making steak for you,” I interject, knowing he likes that.

  “Don’t you like grilled cheese?” Luke asks, disbelieving. “Mommy makes the best ever.”

  Simon looks at me. “Does she now?”

  Luke jumps off his chair, and the next thing I know, he’s pulling Simon by the hand toward the kitchen table. “Eat with us.”

  “Luke, I’m sure Mr. Thorne would rather –”

  “Is there enough?”

  I stare at him for a second, sure I must’ve misheard him, my pulse pounding in my ears. Simon takes a seat next to Luke, looking a bit uncertain and out of place in his fine suit.

  “Of-of course,” I manage. “Luke, help me set the table.”

  My son jumps to the task, and soon everything’s ready. There’s an awkward moment when I don’t know if I should stand and serve Simon like I usually do, but he grabs Luke’s bowl and ladles the piping hot soup into it before reaching for mine. As I take my seat, he glances at me, smiling.

  “Thank you,” I say softly.

  His fingers brush against mine as he hands me my bowl, and it makes my insides flutter so much I can hardly concentrate on the task of eating.

  “You have to dunk the sandwich,” Luke instructs Simon. “That’s the best part.”

  “Just using my fingers?”

  I can’t tell if he’s being serious, but Luke laughs at him, dunking his own grilled cheese into the soup before shoving half of it into his mouth.

  “All right; here goes.”

  I stifle a chuckle seeing how gingerly Simon holds his sandwich compared to Luke as he too dips it before taking a bite.

  “Mmm, it is good.”

  “See? I told you.” Luke grins at both of us.

  “Not how you usually eat soup?” I ask, smiling.

  “Ah, no. But it really is good,” he assures me before taking another bite.

  We eat in comfortable silence. It’s peaceful and perfect. The kitchen’s warm and cozy, and Simon refills our bowls and drinking glasses as though we’ve done this a hundred times before. If someone were to look in through the window, they’d think we were …

  A family.

  The pang of longing I feel is so palpable that it takes my breath away for a second, and I do my best to hide my emotions by taking a drink of water.

  “So, are you excited about your birthday tomorrow?” Simon asks.

  “Uh-huh! J.R. from school is coming, and Piper and Pippa! And there’s gonna be balloons and presents and everything!”

  “Their parents will be here too,” I add. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “It’s fine. Do you need help with anything?”

  “No, thank you. They won’t be here until two, so there’s plenty of time to get everything together. We won’t bother you if you need to work before the party.”

  “I’m going into the city for a little while tomorrow morning anyway.”

  “Work?”

  “Just some things to do at my office, but I can pick that cake up on my way back. I insist.”

  “What cake?” Luke asks. “Am I really getting a Lightning McQueen cake?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” I say, giving him a wink. �
��Now, eat up.”

  As we continue the meal and I see the two of them talking and laughing, a warm glow of contentment settles over me, and I hope every night will be like this. It isn’t my imagination; things really have changed between us. My dream for the future doesn’t seem unattainable at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The next day we celebrate Luke’s birthday. He and I set everything up in the kitchen, which is big enough for this small gathering. Using the dining room felt too formal, and that’s the last thing I wanted for today. This isn’t Luke’s first birthday party—I’ve always made sure to throw him one, no matter how small—but it’s the first one where I don’t have to fake smiles and ignore Patrick’s lack of enthusiasm, the first one where I have a big present for Luke, and the first one where I’ve had someone to help me. Simon kept his promise and picked up the cake I ordered, which might not seem like a big deal, but to me it is. Having someone that I can depend on besides Jo is definitely still a novelty, and I can’t stop smiling as I watch all the guests gathered at the table to celebrate my son, eating the snacks I’ve put out. There’s one seat left, next to Simon, and he smiles at me as I take it.

  “This is delicious,” Lila says, reaching for another mini pizza. “Did you really make all of this yourself, Abbi?”

  I smile at her compliment. “I did. Luke helped.”

  “Abigail’s a great cook,” Simon says.

  “We should get a cook too,” Dave chimes in, nudging Lila.

  “Hey, I cook,” she protests with a grin. “Sometimes. Well, I try.”

  “I can teach you,” I volunteer. “I mean, if you’d like.”

  “Really? That would be awesome!” Her smile is genuine. We’ve become good friends already, and she’s helped me settle into the neighborhood, even introducing me to some of the other moms at the school.

  “Just let me know,” I say, putting some food on my own plate. Everyone digs in and I look around the table again, my smile becoming even wider as Simon rests his arm on the back of my chair. He’s not touching me, but he may as well be. Whether consciously or unconsciously, he’s mimicking the poses of the two other men. There are three couples here. Three families.

  “So, do you want cake or presents first?” I ask Luke after a little while.

  “Presents!” he answers predictably.

  While he opens everything, I take a lot of pictures of both him and everyone around the table, feeling dizzy with happiness. This is what a birthday is supposed to be like—friends, good food, and my son’s dazzling smile as he tears into his gifts with unbridled enthusiasm. When he gets to my gift and sees the iPad, he stares at me for a second before running around the table to throw his arms around me.

  “Happy birthday, honey,” I whisper as I scoop him up to sit on my lap.

  “I love you, Mommy,” he whispers back, burrowing his little face into the crook of my neck. Of course it’s impossible to hold back tears then, and I laugh and apologize at the same time, gratefully accepting a handkerchief from Simon to dab my eyes.

  “Can we go play with it now?” Luke asks eagerly after a few seconds of cuddling. The other kids are already on their feet.

  “After we’ve had cake.”

  “I have something for you too,” Simon says, reaching into his inner pocket. He hands a thick envelope to Luke. I wonder what it could be. I gave Simon a few suggestions for a present, but none of them would fit in an envelope. Carefully, I help Luke open it, watching as he pulls out a bunch of papers.

  “Fireworks! And a castle! And there’s Mickey Mouse,” Luke says, pointing at the cover of the colorful brochure in his hand. “Where is this?”

  I can’t believe this is happening. “It’s, uh, it’s …” I’m completely at a loss for words.

  “It’s a trip to Disneyland in California,” Simon says. “Have you ever been there?”

  “Disneyland?” Luke sounds breathless. “No.”

  “We’re going to Disneyland?” I finally find my voice.

  “Disneyland is awesome!” J.R. exclaims. “We’ve been there two whole times!”

  I find the plane tickets. Why are there so many of them? I scan the names on them, one at a time. There are ones for Luke and me, but also Jo, Thomas, Pippa, and Piper.

  I stare at Simon. “All of us?” I whisper. “We’re all going?”

  He merely nods, smiling. I look at Jo and Thomas.

  “What?” Jo asks from across the table.

  “You’re coming too. It’s for all of us. You, me, Thomas, and the kids.”

  “What?” The table erupts in chatter and excited shrieks as everyone seems to catch on simultaneously. It’s complete mayhem. All three kids yell and scream, jumping up and down, and J.R. joins them for the hell of it. Jo and Thomas are on their feet, flabbergasted and laughing, while J.R.’s parents try to calm their son to no avail.

  “Thanks, man!” Thomas is flustered as he comes over to shake Simon’s hand. “I don’t even know what to say. I can’t believe this!”

  “Thank you so much!” Jo exclaims, grabbing his other hand. “You have no idea how much this means to us, to the kids.”

  Simon clears his throat, taking a step back, obviously out of his element. “Well, call it an early wedding present.” He nods once before taking his seat again, glancing in my direction.

  “Thank you,” I mouth. I love you.

  The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles at me, and in the next moment, they widen as Luke barrels into him, nearly knocking him off his seat.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Luke chants, throwing his arms around Simon’s neck before hugging him. Simon hesitates for a moment, his eyes meeting mine, before he gently pats Luke on the back, lowering his gaze.

  After a few seconds, Simon lifts Luke off him and places him on the floor, handling him delicately, as though he might break. I pull him into my lap, giving him a cuddle as I look over the tickets again. There are six of them. Simon isn’t coming with us. I’m not surprised, but I wish he were, just the same. Could I tell him that once we’re alone? Maybe he’d like to come with us and doesn’t know how welcome he is.

  “It’s for Thanksgiving weekend,” Simon says, fixing his tie. “I hope that won’t interfere with anyone’s plans.”

  “My mom will understand,” Jo says immediately.

  “You won’t need me for the holidays?” I ask Simon quietly.

  “I’ll be traveling,” he says. “No Thanksgiving in Europe.”

  “Business again?” Dave asks.

  “As always. I’ll be away for a couple of weeks this time, unfortunately.” He glances in my direction.

  A couple of weeks? My heart sinks. I don’t want him to go away that long, especially now that everything is going so well, when we’re finally moving in the right direction.

  “But you’ll be back for the Christmas event at the club, right?” Lila asks. “It’s for charity.”

  Simon gives her a tight smile. “Thank you, but I’ll settle for writing you a check. Holiday parties aren’t really my thing.”

  “You know that,” Dave says to his wife. “Simon’s house is the only one on the block without decorations come Christmas. He’s our resident Scrooge.” His tone is light and teasing, and I get the feeling they’ve talked about this before. “Maybe you can bring a little holiday cheer to the house,” he says, directed at me.

  I simply smile and shrug. It’s not a bad idea, though. I could ask Simon to spend Christmas together here at the house, letting him know we want to be with him during the holidays. That would show him I don’t think of him as my boss anymore.

  “Can we have cake now?” Luke asks.

  I get the cake from the fridge, hoping it tastes as good as it looks. They really made it look like Lightning McQueen, and I know Luke will love it. Lighting the five little candles, I carry it to the table, feeling a bit in the spotlight as I start to sing “Happy Birthday.” Thankfully, everyone joins in—even Luke, his eyes alight with excitement
as I place the car-shaped cake in front of him. I smile at Jo, who’s already aimed her phone at Luke, ready to snap a picture.

  “Okay, make a wish, hon.”

  He closes his eyes, draws a deep breath, and blows out all the candles in one go. Everyone applauds.

  “What’d you wish for?” Pippa asks.

  “If you tell us, it won’t come t—” I start, but Luke interrupts me.

  “I wished Mr. Thorne would be my daddy!”

  Oh, no. My gaze darts from Luke’s happy grin to Jo’s wide eyes. Yes, he really just said that. I didn’t imagine it. Fuck.

  The kitchen is completely quiet. I can see Simon out of the corner of my eye sitting stock-still, but I don’t dare look in his direction.

  “That’s dumb!” Piper’s outburst echoes off the walls. “You can only have one daddy!”

  “Nuh-uh!” J.R. protests. “Jeremy at school has two daddies! Right, Mom?”

  “Oh, uh, that’s right,” Lila confirms.

  “See!” JR is triumphant. “And you can have two mommies too.”

  The kids all start talking about two daddies and mommies, but the adults are silent. Dead silent. I’m dying inside.

  “Lila, how far along are you?” Jo asks, referring to the visible baby bump she’s sporting in her tight shirt.

  “Six months,” she replies, placing her hand on her stomach. “I’m getting so big already compared to the first time.”

  Dave puts his hand on top of hers, giving her a loving look.

  “I think you look great,” Jo says. “God, I was such a whale when I was expecting.”

  “You were not,” Thomas protests. “More like a really cute manatee.”

  All of them laugh as Jo pretends to choke Thomas, and the tension evaporates, the talk flowing easily around the subject of babies and pregnancy. I put on a brave face, cutting the cake and handing everyone a slice. Except the seat next to me is now empty. No one mentions it, but we’ve all noticed Simon’s departure.