MANTRUM Page 3

  “Yeah. My wife, Lisa, and I got married last year. She’s a nurse at the hospital where I work.”

  How sweet. A doctor and a nurse. “That’s great. I’m happy for you. I’m sorry, but I really need to get back to work. Enjoy the rest of your trip.” I force a smile to curve my lips.

  “Thank you. Take care of yourself, Dani.”

  I give a quick wave of my hand and walk down the sidewalk. Passing all the cars parked curbside at a string of meters, I speed up my pace until I know Pete can no longer see me. Ducking inside one of my favorite coffee shops, I grab a decaf and sink down onto a chair. Resting my elbow on the small table for two, I lean my forehead against my palm. Sometimes it seems like when it rains, it pours. First the reprimand by Sergeant Glen and then bumping into Pete.

  Why did I have to see him today of all days when I’m already feeling low?

  And why does knowing he’s moved on and is married bother me? Do I have feelings for him still?

  “No. I don’t.” I mumble under my breath, not caring if I look like a crazy lady talking to herself. Any love I had for Pete has waned, and all that remains are fond memories of our time together. It’s just a little depressing to see he’s already found someone, and I’ve barely been on a date since we parted.

  Fortunately, our split was amicable and wasn’t motivated by fighting or infidelity. He got offered a job as chief of orthopedic surgery at a Denver hospital that he didn’t want to refuse. And I was already working in my current position. I had everything I’d ever wanted—or so I thought.

  But sometimes dreams change, and that’s the case with Pete and me. Once he got the offer to head up a surgical department, it’s all he could think about. It didn’t take long for both of us to realize our love for our jobs would be what brought about the demise of our marriage, but we both accepted it.

  Looking back, I don’t think we were a good fit. We loved each other, but we were both willing to live without one another in the name of our careers. I think that says a lot about how disposable our relationship was. Marrying someone should mean you don’t want to spend a single day without that person and their happiness matters just as much, if not more, than yours.

  I’m not sure if I’ll ever have the opportunity to experience that all-consuming kind of love. At thirty-five years old, I’m already noticing the lack of available dating prospects. I suppose I could try online dating, but I know a lot of people sign up on those sites just to get laid. And that’s not what I want.

  Well, I do want to have sex. But I’m not going to have it with someone I don’t know. An image of Rex pops into my mind and I’m not sure why. I only met the guy one time. And as far as first impressions go, it wasn’t great. I shake my head as if I can banish the likeness so easily. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work and my brain conjures a perfectly clear recollection of his disheveled golden brown hair and teasing blue eyes. But it doesn’t end there. Oh no, I envision his thickly bearded jaw line, impossibly wide shoulders, the brawny chest I was captivated by, and the flat stomach I only dared a brief glimpse at. Altogether, it makes one hell of an attractive package. Masculinity at its finest.

  Too bad he’s aggravating as hell and has an anger problem.

  The two of us would never work, anyway. I enforce the rules for a living and he seems to be the type to break them. I’m a stickler for doing what’s right, down to the very core of who I am as a person. And judging from the little amount of time I spent in Rex’s company, I’d have to say he’s the exact opposite. Who needs that kind of headache?

  4

  Rex

  "Jesus Christ, they'll let any piece of shit out of jail these days." Adam and Harold are standing next to my truck in front of the courthouse.

  "I know it's not easy being stupid, but this," I turn around and point back up the stairs I've just come down, “is a courthouse, not a jail."

  "Well, you're the expert." Adam doesn't miss a beat.

  "Fuck off."

  "Seriously, how'd it go?"

  "I've got a hearing in three months."

  "Ok. And..." Adam pushes for me to elaborate.

  "The alleged victim wasn't in court this morning and the judge said he was going to dismiss the charges."

  "But?" Adam can tell there's more coming.

  "But seeing as I didn't have proper representation," I stop and look directly at Harold, "he decided to give us both time to address the charges in an appropriate manner."

  "Really? I was sure the alleged victim would be there today." Harold sounds genuinely surprised.

  "Oh, you were, were you? Because I was only fifty percent sure you'd be there today." I step closer. "As it turns out, I was wrong about that too."

  "I'm here."

  "Yes, you're here, outside the courthouse, standing around with this idiot.” I jerk my thumb toward my brother. “And looking like the runner-up in a beta male contest."

  "Not nice, man." Harold shakes his head as he turns to walk back to Adam's truck. "Not nice."

  "Go easy, bro, you know that shit bothers him, and now I have to listen to it in the truck." Adam slaps me on the back. "Seriously, you okay?"

  "I'm good, for now."

  "Well, now is all I'm asking about. So, can we get to work today or not?"

  He's right. We've got work to do and deadlines to meet for people who don't care about my problems and won't accept any bullshit excuses.

  "I'll meet you there."

  * * *

  Closing the door behind me, I flip the lock in place, setting my keys in the bowl on the entryway console table. Removing my mud-caked work boots, I place them on the tray to the side of the door and push my wet hair back from my face. The rain held off for most of the day and we were able to put a pair of sliding glass doors in on our current project. I got soaked buttoning up the trim on the outside of the sliders, but we managed to finish, remaining on our projected timeline.

  Moving to the kitchen, my sock-covered feet are silent on the dark hardwood floors. Pausing in the doorway, I observe my daughter, Ruby, at the kitchen island. Head bouncing to music playing on her ear buds, she stares down at the notebook she’s writing in. Smiling, I watch as she bites her lip in concentration. Every stroke of her pen deliberate and calculated as it glides over the lined page.

  Ruby has always been such a focused kid. Even as a small child, she had a zest for knowledge, and with time it’s only grown. Type A in every way, I have no doubt great things await her in the future. She inherited the best parts of me: a solid work ethic and creativity. Ruby is a gifted artist. She can paint just about anything you ask her to, and the walls of our great room are covered with her works of art. From animated characters she’s drawn to landscapes she’s painted, I’ve pretty much seen her create it all. And each one is better than the last.

  Thankfully, she has her mother’s mild temperament. While she’s an overachiever, she doesn’t get bent out of shape over small things like I do. And she’s patient to a fault. If I didn’t know for sure I’m her father, I might wonder where she came from. But I’ve been there since day one, and she’s everything I wished she would be and so much more. I never imagined I could love someone as much as I love her.

  Her mother and I dated our last year of college. We had already broken up when Catherine found out she was pregnant. No longer a couple, I supported her the best I could throughout the pregnancy and delivery. We lived in the same apartment complex for the first five years until I purchased my house. Shortly after, Catherine got a job offer that was too good to refuse. The one drawback was the need for frequent travel. We both decided I would have primary custody of Ruby and we’d work around her new travel schedule. With flexibility, we’ve managed to maintain a solid friendship and raise our daughter together for fourteen years. And Ruby seems to be thriving as a result.

  Moving forward, I call out a greeting, but Ruby doesn’t hear me with her music playing. Slapping my hand down on the granite island top three times catches her attention. She jum
ps nervously and giggles as she pulls an ear bud out.

  “Jeez, Dad, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

  “I could’ve been a serial killer and you would be dead by now.”

  “Thanks for the positivity.”

  “I’m joking, kind of. You really shouldn’t listen to the music so loud that you can’t hear if someone else is in the house with you.”

  She looks exasperated with me. “It’s still light out. In every horror movie I’ve seen, they always kill at night.”

  “Since when do you watch horror films?”

  “I’m fourteen, Dad. I’ve been watching them for a while now.”

  I grimace, wondering what else she’s done that I’m unaware of.

  Has she kissed a boy? Or maybe even worse?

  My eyes peruse her heavily freckled, innocent face. She looks younger than her age, and as far as I know, the only boy she hangs around with is Baxter, who lives in the neighborhood. He’s too focused on his computer games to want to be more than friends with her. Exhaling a sigh of relief, I tell myself not to worry over things I don’t need to. Those days will come soon enough.

  “What do you want for dinner?”

  “What are my options?”

  “I can grill steaks or burgers. It’s your call.”

  “I want a bacon cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato, and onions.”

  “Mm, sounds good to me. You slice the veggies and I’ll take care of the burgers and buns.”

  “She drops her pen down and stretches her arms over her head. “Okay. I need a break from geometry anyway.”

  Twenty minutes later, I’ve showered and put on a clean t-shirt and sweatpants. Standing in front of the scorching grill on my back deck, I flip the burgers over and carefully place the buns on the metal grates.

  My thoughts wander and I muse about everything that’s happened in the past few days. It feels like a lifetime has passed since Friday, but having to go to court will do that to a person. I’m not someone who worries about things out of my control, but I can admit, I was concerned about my arraignment this morning. I can’t afford to end up doing jail time because of my rash behavior. As much as I dislike to admit it, Adam is right, I need to take the anger management course again. This time I’m going to give it my all.

  I’m a father first, and a damn good one.

  Fortunately, Ruby knows nothing about me having court this morning. And I’m careful that she doesn’t see me at my worst. If I can hold off my temper for her, shouldn’t I be able to control it all the time? It’s food for thought and definitely something that bears consideration.

  Once Ruby is seated at the table, I rush around, plating the burgers and buns and gathering up everything we need before sitting down across from her.

  “How was school?” I ask, scooping potato salad onto my plate.

  “It was good. Did you know we only have seven more weeks left this year? And then I’ll be a sophomore.”

  Fuck. I wish I could stop time and keep Ruby this age. I know next year will bring about a lot of changes I’m not ready for. Right now, she’s stuck in that sweet spot between being a child and being too old to talk to me. “What do you want for your birthday?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, you have two weeks to think about it.”

  “Can I get a car?” Her eyes sparkle. Oh hell. Maybe she’s not as young as I think.

  “No. You can’t even get your permit until you’re sixteen.”

  “Yeah, but that would give you a year to pay off the car loan.” She smiles.

  “You’ve got this all planned out, do you?”

  She taps her head. “Hey, you always tell me to set goals and work toward something.”

  “I meant achievements, not possessions. And if you want a car, then I suggest you start saving your pennies. I’m not going to hand you a vehicle the minute you get your license.”

  “Maddie gave my name to some of her old babysitting clients,” she mentions her older cousin who attends the University of New Hampshire.

  “That was nice of her. How’s she doing?”

  “She said she’s thinking of switching to Boston University where Marshall goes.”

  “I’m not sure she’ll like having her older brother at the same school with her.”

  “It sounded like she’s not happy at UNH. but we didn’t have much time to talk.”

  “They’ll be at your birthday party. You can catch up then.”

  “I can’t wait until I go to college.”

  What? “You’re a bit young to have to think about that.”

  “Mrs. Waters says we need to think about our futures.”

  “Who’s she?” Mrs. Waters sounds like a busybody.

  “My guidance counselor.”

  “I’ll tell you what, you focus on getting through the rest of this school year and keep your grades up. College discussions can wait a little longer.” Maybe in the next three years I can convince her what a great option online college is.

  5

  Danika

  Thursday night inevitably rolls around and I find myself pausing in the hallway outside the room where the anger management class is being held. Tipping my head back, I sigh. I wish I didn’t have to attend these meetings for the next six weeks. Figures the one time I let my temper get the best of me, I get busted and held accountable for it. Shuffling closer to the doorway, I peer inside the room. Metal folding chairs are grouped around in a circle.

  “Can I help you?” A soft voice inquires from behind, startling me.

  My hand lands on my pounding chest and I spin around.

  An attractive fifty-something woman smiles my way. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Teri.” She holds her hand out for me to shake.

  I smile. “I’m Danika.”

  “Welcome, Danika. I run the program here. Why don’t you come inside.” She tips her head toward the room. “I promise it’s not as scary as it seems once you’ve experienced a meeting firsthand.”

  “Okay. I hope you’re right. I’ve never been to anything like this before.”

  “We’re pretty informal here. Most of the people who attend do so as a way to help them cope with their daily stresses.” I walk beside her, our shoes tapping on the worn green square tiles. Nineteen fifty called and they want their floor back.

  She gestures to the seating area. “Make yourself comfortable. We’ll start in another five minutes or so.”

  “Thank you for the warm welcome.”

  She touches my arm comfortingly. “My pleasure.”

  I know I only met Teri a few minutes ago, but I liked her instantly. Warm and caring, she gives off a maternal vibe. Maybe this class won’t be as bad as I imagined.

  I choose one of the closest available seats, placing my back to the door. Sinking down onto the chair, the cold metal can be felt through my yoga pants. Crossing one leg over the other, I nervously bounce my foot up and down. Shoving my hands into the front pocket on my hoodie, I avoid making eye contact with anyone and hope the class starts soon.

  I don’t have to wait long before Teri takes a seat directly across from me. “Good evening, everyone. I’m glad you all are joining me for the next six weeks of Temper Your Anger.” Everyone laughs at the irony of the name before she continues. “You’re going to learn how to neutralize those feelings of anger before they can escalate.” The sound of the door closing interrupts. Teri grins broadly at whomever just arrived. “Look who missed us and decided to come back.”

  A cheerful chorus of “hey” goes up, and I find myself peeking over my shoulder. My eyes bulge from their sockets when I see who’s here: Rex. Fuck me. Why is he here?

  Snapping my head forward, I shrink down in my seat and try to make myself as small as possible. Maybe he won’t notice me.

  “Hey, Danika.” Large boots stop in front of me. So much for that thought. My eyes slowly scroll up his jeans-clad frame until they connect with his amused blue stare. “Fancy seeing you here.”
He winks before taking the open seat to my right, scooting the chair closer to mine.

  His fresh, clean scent wafts my way and I notice his brushed back hair looks darker than usual. It might even be wet. Did he just shower?

  My brain conjures up a vision of him in a white towel and nothing else. Water drips down his muscular chest. Oh damn.

  “Are you okay?” Rex whispers against my ear, and I shiver. I tell myself it’s because I’m chilled, but it’s really his close proximity.

  Leaning away, I aim a quick side-eye at him. “Yes, I’m fine, aside from not wanting to be here.”

  “Since it’s the first week of the new session, I’d like to have some volunteers share why they’re here. Any takers?” Teri gets down to business.

  Rex raises his hand. “I’ll go first. After all, I’m an expert at the curriculum.”

  “How many times have you taken this class, Rex?” Teri questions.

  “I’m not exactly sure, but if I had to guess I’d say around five.”

  Holy shit. He’s taken this class five times? What the fuck for? Is he some psycho rage machine who can’t control himself? I might be lucky all he did was slap the guy a couple of times. It could've gone much worse.

  “What are you here for this time?” Teri asks.

  “There was an incident on Friday. I got a parking ticket I didn’t deserve—”

  “Hold up there,” I interrupt, raising my hand. “The meter was expired, therefore, you did deserve the ticket.”

  He scoffs. “It was barely out of time. You couldn’t cut me some slack?”

  “I hate to jump in here, but I’m sure everyone else is like me and wondering how you two know each other.”

  Rex hooks his thumb toward me. “She’s the officer who gave me the parking ticket.”