Page 25 of Beautiful Crazy
Lord help me, that man is fine as hell, and my vagina sure notices.
Part of me wonders if my newfound creativity is inspired by the sexy, sweaty man approaching. Be it the way he plays with my son or the fact that he’s fixing appliances for me.
Catching me looking at him, he waves, a smile splitting his face. I return the gesture, my stomach doing a flip at the sight of him under the afternoon sun.
“Everett!” Sutton calls out, waving at him. “Wanna play catch with us?”
Plucking an earbud out of his ear, Everett grabs the t-shirt out of the waistband of his shorts, using it to wipe his face as he smiles over at my son and my nephew. “I’d love to,” he says enthusiastically. “Let me run inside and change really quick, and then I’ll come over.” His gaze slides over to me. “Is that okay with you?”
“Of course.” I nod, my lips curling up into a grin as my cheeks heat. Christ, he needs to put a shirt on if he’s going to keep looking at me like that.
“Mom’s on a deadline,” Suttonoffers, and a pang of guilt hits me in the chest at the annoyance in his voice. Not that I blame him. I do my best to not work on the weekends, be as present with him as possible, but it was unavoidable. With the start of school this past week and the start of baseball practice, I wasn’t able to get as much done as I needed to, and he’s right, I am on a deadline.
Everett glances over at me, something passing through his eyes that I can’t quite place, before he looks back at Sutton with a bright smile. “Well then, give me a couple minutes, and we can play a little ball together while we let her work. How’s that sound?”
Both boys smile at that, nodding before Everett disappears inside his house.
I’ve learned over the years that being a single parent comes with guilt. And being the only parent while also being the breadwinner means a lot of juggling. I have to juggle time with him while also making sure I get my work done so I have money to pay our bills and put food on the table. There are many nights after Sutton’s gone to bed when I stand in his doorway and watch him sleep, feeling like a failure. Feeling like I’m letting him down because I’m not able to be there as much as I’d like.
When I got pregnant with Sutton, I never planned to do this alone. I don’t think anybody really plans for something like that, and I’ve done my best over the years to navigate it as best I can, but some days, like today, I feel like I’m disappointing him. Is he going to look back on his childhood and only remember the times his mom was sitting with her face in her computer screen? Or will he look back and know that I did everything I could to make sure he had a good life? Will he know that everything I do is for him?Or will he just remember all the times he had to play by himself while I worked?
There’s no instruction manual to being a parent, and I think that’s the hardest part. Never knowing if what I’m doing is good enough, or if I’m inadvertently damaging him. Not knowing if he’s going to have to go through years of therapy later in life because of the life I’ve given him. Most days, I’m able to give myself grace. I know that I’m doing the best I can with the circumstances I was given and that we have it a lot better than most single-income families in this country. He could have it a lot worse, but that doesn’t ease the guilt when I’m drowning in work and the weight of my deadlines rest on my shoulders.
Juggling being a mom and being a business owner is overwhelming on even the easiest of days.
True to his word, Everett is crossing over from his yard into ours about five minutes later, fully dressed—what a shame—with his own baseball mitt in his hand. As they start practicing, I shift my focus back to my work, letting the outside world fade away as I immerse myself into the story I’m telling on the screen.
I’m not even sure how much time passes, but I glance up from my screen as the boys run past me and into the house. Everett approaches the porch, his hand still in a mitt. “I was thinking of picking up some pizzas for all of us. Is it okay if they come with me to grab it? That way you can keep working.”
“Oh, Everett, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure it would be much easier to go by yourself.”
“No, I don’t mind.” He smiles and I feel it in my gut. “Besides, they’d be able to hold the pizzas while I drive and keep them safe.”
I know he’s doing this to help me, which makes the guilt I was feeling earlier grow, but I also can’t deny how sweet it is. “Well, at least let me give you some cash. You can’t pay for all of us to eat.”
“I can,” he says sternly, his tone sending a shiver down my spine. “And I will. It’s my treat.”
“Everett…”
“Any particular pizza you want me to get?”
“I’m not picky,” I say with a shake of my head. “Get whatever and I’ll eat it.”
“I don’t want to get whatever,” he replies, tone low. “I want to get something you want. What’s your usual go-to?”
Biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling, I murmur, “Taco pizza, please.”
Everett huffs out a small laugh. “That’s my favorite too.”
“Really?” My brows rise.
He nods, a smile tipping his lips, just as the boys come barreling out. Reaching into the pocket of his shorts, he pulls out his phone, unlocking and handing it to me. “Here, put your number in. I’ll text you so you have mine, and then you can reach us while we’re gone if you need anything.”
Taking the phone from him, our fingers brush, and a spark zips its way up my arm. My eyes dart up to see if he felt it too, but I find him already watching me. Under the weight of his stare, my body warms, and I glance down at the phone, plugging in my number as I try to calm myself down.
God, get it together, Gemma.I know it’s been years since I’ve thought about a man in that way, but there’s no reason my heart should race this fast from a single touch of our fingers.
Maybe my sisters are right; maybe I need to get laid already.