Happily Ever After? Read Online Free PDF Page B

his sincere contrition, worked like a salve on my anger. I softened. “Well, it was kind
     of cute.”
    “I can accept cute. I was aiming for charming, though.”
    “Charming? Charming is putting a flower under the windshield, not a parking ticket with every possible violation checked off.”
    “Oh, you’re right, of course you are. How stupid of me. I can be such a dunce.”
    I pictured Michael sitting in the corner of a classroom with a big white cone on his head. I saw his broad shoulders and big
     hands, his freckled neck, the little scar above his lip. “No, no. You’re not a dunce.” I was filled with a warm, gooey affection
     for him. I wanted to cradle him, stroke his copper hair and kiss him on the forehead. “What are you doing handing out parking
     tickets anyway?” I said, changing the subject. “I thought you were a detective.”
    “When I saw your Jeep outside the hardware store I grabbed one of the PVOs off the street—.”
    “PVO?”
    “Parking Violations Officers. What we used to call meter maids.”
    “So you grabbed her and probably made her day.”
    “So I asked the PVO for a blank ticket,” he continued, sidestepping my reference to his appeal, “and she gave me one, and,
     well, hence the note.”
    “Hence the note,” I repeated, marveling at how cute he sounded when he used words like
hence.
    “Forgive me?”
    “Yes, my son, all is forgiven. Say three Hail Marys and call me in the morning.”
    “You’ve never been to confession, have you?”
    “I’m not Catholic.”
    “I can handle that,” he said.
    “Oh, and what does that mean?” “Oh, nothing. Hey. No more parking tickets. I promise.” His voice was breaking up.
    “My cell phone’s running out of juice,” I said.
    “Cell phone? Are you in the car?”
    “Yup.”
    “In that case, I’ll let you go. I’d rather you drive safe, okay?”
    “Yessir!” I said, feeling safe and cared for, something I haven’t felt in quite some time.
    ’Til next time,
    V
June 8, later
    Went to Lynette’s house to pick up Petey and my new baguette basket. She looked as if she’d been crying, then forced herself
     to perk up. “You didn’t have to buy this, you know.” She put the basket in a paisley gift bag and tied it with a bright green
     bow. “I just thought you’d enjoy being out and about.”
    I noticed a few dirty dishes in the sink, a red flag if there ever was one. “Lynette, is everything okay?”
    She smoothed her hair. “Fine, fine, I’m fine.” She pulled a crumpled tissue from her sleeve and blew in a quiet, ladylike
     way. “Allergies. Happens every year.” Sheblew again and stared at me. “I’m fine, really.” She gave me a plaintive, please-don’t-probe look. I backed off. I took my
     basket and went home. I called when I got home but no one answered. Went to Josie’s for a new pair of shoes. Found a daisy
     under my window wiper.
    ’Til next time,
    V
June 8, even later
    Pete said he hates his new soccer team, and hates me for pulling him out of Jerry’s team. He said he would never forgive me.
    I started crying, surprising myself and scaring my son. I tried to explain that my crying had nothing to do with him, that
     I was stressed and tired, that I was nervous about an important appointment.
    “What kind of appointment?” he asked, now curious and apparently no longer hating me.
    “Just a grown-up kind of appointment, nothing you need to think about.”
    “With Daddy?”
    “Yes, sweetie, your dad will be there.”
    “Are you going to marry him again?”
    “No, sweetheart, Dad and I aren’t going to marry each other again. But we’ll always love you just as much.” Pete frowned.
    “Hey.” I kneeled down to make eye contact withhim. “You want to talk about this? About me and your dad?”
    He shook his head. “Can we have pizza tonight?”
    I hugged him and he resisted me, contracting in my embrace. “You know, Pete, you don’t have to be afraid to talk about this.”
    “I’m