Lost in the Supermarket

Mark didn't just show me the ropes; he also showed anybody else who had an interest in how Carson's was managed. He didn't play any favorites—which I came to understand was incredibly important in getting the employees to do what he wanted them to do. No favoritism—not even for me. If he showed me something, he showed the same thing to anyone who wanted to learn. His openness, treating people fairly and equally, and general good nature made him a favorite. Everybody liked him.

Meanwhile, Matt and I were ready to take the next step in our relationship. The case was dismissed; my legal woes moved into the rearview mirror. I was no longer a current client. We had been dating for almost six months and our relationship was getting serious. We both wanted to add a physical dimension to what we had.

I took a deep breath and asked Mark to watch Mary for a Saturday night. I didn't have to explain why—because he understood why. I told Mary I was going on a sleepover and she was fine with it. She and Mark had bonded. She would sleep in our bed while Mark slept in his bed.

I would be sleeping in Matt's bed.

It had been more than five years since I'd last had sex—and sex with Luke was never what you would call fulfilling. Luke called me a frigid bitch. I guess I started to believe him, which caused me to warn Matt that I might have some issues in bed.

As it turned out, the only issues I had with Matt involved waiting impatiently for him to recover so we could have intercourse again. We connected at once (no pun intended) and he made me feel things I never thought I would or could ever feel in bed. I think we got maybe four hours of sleep that night but, when I finally got out of bed Sunday morning, aching in the best way, I was full of energy.

I kissed him and let the poor man sleep as I explored his small kitchen to make us both breakfast.

Matt and I grew closer over the next few hectic months. Despite all the pressure on me to get my act together so I could move out of Mark's condo, we managed to find a routine. On Fridays, we would look for a new place for Mary and I to live. On Saturdays, we would have dinner and a sleepover. Sundays I would spend with Mary.

During the workweek, I would work and be Mary's mother—and Mark's friend.

I have to say I grew tense as the weeks passed without landing a new apartment. Nothing felt right. I finally realized I had to either go back to my old apartment (which had been rented out but I thought the landlord would let me move back in) or I had to make some compromises I was unwilling to make.

Finally, as Mary was preparing to return to school and start the third grade, Matt asked me to move in with him.

*****

Mark's story

As the summer passed, Paula grew younger and I grew older.

That's how it seemed to me. Matt seemed to have revitalized Paula: she smiled more than she ever had; she laughed and even tried to tell jokes. On Sundays, when she came home from her "sleepover" with Matt, she was a completely different person.

I tried to feel happy for her.

I did feel happy for her, even if seeing her happy made me sad for some reason I couldn't explain even to myself. I firmly told myself that I wasn't 30 years younger and there was no wishing that I was—so I needed to get over myself and just support Paula and Mary. And Matt.

Paula and I still shared confidences. She told me how anxious she was to find a new place and restart the life Luke had interrupted nearly nine months before. She told me how she fretted about paying me back and how she needed to buy a car.

I told her not to worry about the money. Right. Like that was going to work. Paula could be surprisingly stubborn when she felt there was a moral principle at stake. I respected that about her, even though her stubbornness made life difficult sometimes.

I didn't tell her that I planned to give her my old Honda when she moved out. It was time I got a new car and the dealers always ripped you off on the trade-in valuation anyway. I was going to give her the car as a surprise when she found her new apartment.

One Sunday morning Paula came home, more thoughtful and less joyful than was usual for her after a sleepover with Matt. She asked to speak with me privately, so we put Mary in front of the TV to watch Blue's Clues or Bluey or whatever the Blue show was that she liked to watch.

We sat at the kitchen table and spoke quietly.

"Matt asked me to move in with him," she said. She sounded nervous for some reason I didn't understand.

I nodded. "And—?" I prompted.

"And I don't know. I mean, Mary likes him well enough, but ...."

"But what?"

"But I don't know, Mark. I was with Luke and it felt like I was trapped. Why would I go back into something where I would be trapped?"

I hummed because I didn't really know what to say.

"Matt is wonderful in so many ways! He has a great job. He makes me laugh all the time! And—"

"And?"

Paula blushed deep red. "The sex is really good," she muttered, looking away from my eyes.

I didn't react. I kept my voice even. "Those are the pros. What are the cons?"

She shook her head. "They're all in my mind, I guess. Like—what if he gets tired of me? What if he hits me? What if he starts to resent Mary? He says he knows she has to come first with me, but what if he ... you know?"

"Those are good questions, Paula. Have you tried discussing them with Matt?"

She shook her head.

"I see. If you want my advice, I think you should. Ask him. See what he says. Maybe he'll make those fears of yours disappear."

"Or maybe he'll confirm them."

"Maybe. But either way, you'll know for sure."

Paula thought about my answer for a while before she nodded. "Okay," she said.

"Good. But there's another question I think you should discuss with him, if you don't mind me butting into your business."

"You are always welcome to butt into my business, Mark. What's the question?"

"Does he want children? Do you?"

Paula just looked at me for the longest time, as if she couldn't process my question.

"What?" she finally asked.

"Does Matt want children? He doesn't have any—right?"

"Right."

"Well, is he okay with that? Having Mary as the only child—a child who's going to be a teenager before you know it? Or does he want a child—or children—of his own with you? Do you want to have children with him?"

"I never ...."

"I understand, Paula. But I really think that's a topic you should discuss before you make a commitment to each other. Don't you?"

She nodded, then she sighed. Then she nodded again.

While Paula was discussing her future with Matt, I pondered my own future. I hadn't said anything to anybody, but the owners of Freeman's had reached out to me a week ago. They were wondering if I was happy as Carson's—as happy as I'd been at Freeman's. It was just a nibble but we all knew what they were really asking me.

Did I want to come back to Freeman's? Did I want to get my old job back?

Did I want to leave Paula at Carson's and return to the way things had been before ... everything ... had happened?

The more I thought about the situation, the more I thought about Paula and Matt and Mary all living happily together, the better Freeman's looked to me. A clean break. That's what it would be. That's what I needed.

A clean break.

Paula could stay on at Carson's. Maybe she wouldn't because maybe Matt would want her to stay at home. He made enough money to be the sole breadwinner. Or maybe she would stay, but get a promotion. I had been working with her. I mean, I had been working with several employees, but she was the one who got it quicker than anyone else. She was ready to be an Assistant Manager. Maybe that would be her future. At Carson's.

Paula and Mary. And Matt. Together.

While I returned to Freeman's and became the Manager, the dirty old manager with secret roving eyes.

I wouldn't have Paula to look at any more.

That thought hit me like a bolt of lightning: no more Paula.

No more Mary.

No lunches; no hidden looks. No more fantasies.

I sighed. That's okay, I thought. She will be Matt's woman.

I needed to let her go.

*****

Paula's story

Mark helped me to see that Matt and I needed to have a serious talk before things went any further between us. I thought we had discussed things pretty well, but I was wrong. We really had to dig into the expectations each other had before our relationship went any further.

Did Matt want children?

I knew I didn't want any more children. I loved Mary with all my heart, but she was enough for me. I didn't want any more children, which is why I had made sure Matt used condoms when we were together. I had just assumed that he didn't want children either.

Turns out I was wrong about that.

I was 29; Matt was 33. He wanted children. He wanted me to have more children: at least one more, or maybe two more. Or three more. He wanted me to have his children.

As we talked, the floodgates opened, revealing his dreams for us.

He wanted us to get married and have a large family. He would support us all while I stayed home and took care of the children. I would quit Carson's and be a home-maker. I'd keep the house clean, do the shopping, and cook the meals. Dinner would be waiting for Matt when he came home then, later, I would be waiting for him in bed, with my legs wide open.

That was his vision for us: we would be a traditional family, straight out of the 1950's.

His vision was my nightmare.

I already ran away from a regimented existence; the last thing I wanted was another one—no matter how good the sex with Matt was.

We sat at his place, sipping white wine. Neither one of us was laughing. In fact, I was crying, because I really liked Matt. Did I love him? No. I think I maybe could have grown to love him, but right now—in this moment—I knew I didn't love him. He made me laugh and I enjoyed every moment I spent with him. I thought Mary liked him as well. But I didn't see him as Mary's step-father.

I liked having sex with Matt. I liked our sex a lot! But ... sex didn't seem all that important to me, in the scheme of things. If I could be just friends with Matt but never have sex, I thought that would be okay. Friends without benefits would work.

That's when I realized that Matt and I were friends. That was all we were ever going to be. We would never, ever, be more than friends.

I didn't love Matt and I didn't want to have any more children. He wanted children. Being a step-father to Mary wasn't going to be enough for him. Our visions for our future were too far apart.

That was the bottom-line for me, as Mark would have said.

Mark.

Sitting next to Matt as he drove me home, I realized that whatever I had with Mark was stronger than what I had with Matt.

*****

Mark's story

Matt dropped Paula off early that night. Both Mary and I were surprised to see her walk in the door; normally she wouldn't have been home until after breakfast. It took me one glance at her ruined make-up and red-rimmed eyes to understand: The Talk hadn't gone the way she hoped it would.

I didn't say anything but I opened my arms. Paula fell against me and started to sob. I rubbed her back gently while she cried. Her full body felt warm against my chest, though I felt her tears soak into my shoulder.

I looked over at Mary, who was staring at us with deep concern on her face. "It's going to be okay, honey," I said—which was meant for both of them. "It's going to be okay."

"What happened, Mommy?" Mary asked.

I felt Paula pull back a little bit; I let her go. She turned away from me so she could speak to her daughter. It took her a few moments to clear her throat.

"Mister Matt and I ... we're not going to be seeing each other anymore, honey."

"Oh."

"That's right. We talked and ...." Paula couldn't finish her sentence. I she turned back to me and I held her again as she struggled to regain her composure.

"It's going to be okay," I repeated. What else could I say?

My heart was breaking for Paula. Even though I secretly cared for her, I was honestly happy that she seemed to have found her life partner in Matt. Matt was a good guy: funny, smart, and well-off. Good looking. He was a great catch, and I knew it. But they talked, and discussed their expectations—and now Paula was sobbing against my chest. It was clear: whatever they had was now over.

I tried to look at the bright side of the situation: at least they hadn't gotten married and divorced 16 years later amid finger-pointing and acid-edged recriminations. Nobody had cheated on the other.

Eventually, Paula excused herself. She went into the bathroom; when she emerged a few minutes later her face was free of any makeup and she was wearing a bathrobe.

"I think I'm going to bed," she announced.

"I wanna watch some TV," Mary countered.

"You go to bed," I said softly. "I'll stay up with Mary until it's time for her to join you."

"You sure that's not—"

"It's what we were going to do anyway. It's what we always do when you—"

Paula sighed deeply. "Right. Well, those days ... uh, nights ... are over."

I nodded. "Rest. Sleep. Tomorrow is another day."

She smiled at me. It was a wan smile, but I knew there was gratitude underneath it.

Tomorrow would be another day. With Matt now out of the picture, we would have a lot to discuss, a lot to figure out. Some of my plans would need to be changed. For example, I was going to have to rethink the Freeman's offer. Well, the offer they hadn't made yet—but I could feel it coming. I was going to have to rethink giving Paula the Honda. That made a certain sense when she was moving out; but now it was hard to see when that might happen. Still, she needed a car of her own.

I smiled to myself as I settled next to Mary on the sofa to watch Frozen or Tangled or Raya—or whatever Disney movie she was in the mood for. Earlier, I counseled Paula that she and Matt needed to discuss things. Tomorrow, we would need to have a similar discussion.

I hoped it would end better for her than tonight's conversation with Matt.

*****

Paula's story

When I awoke, I left Mary snoring gently and took a long, hot, shower. I sighed at my face in the mirror and decided to keep the makeup to a minimum today. After all, this was Sunday.

The first day of my life without Matt.

Trying to keep a smile on my face, I joined Mark in the kitchen and helped him get breakfast ready. For some reason I felt ravenous. We made a huge six-egg omelet, filled with onions, crumbled bacon, avocado, and a wonderful cheddar cheese from Trader Joe's that Mark insisted we always keep on hand. Mark looked at me for a long moment, cut a third of the omelet for himself, and pushed the remaining two-thirds onto my plate.

When I looked up again five minutes later, my omelet had disappeared. My eyes met his and we both started to laugh.

He reached his hand over and I took it.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked.

I shrugged. "It was pretty much what you thought. He wanted more children—lots of them. I don't. He wanted me at home, taking care of the family. I wanted a career, or at least a job. We, uh, agreed to disagree."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too. I mean, I thought we had something, you know?"

Mark nodded. "Me, too. I really hoped—"

"Did you really?" I have no idea why that popped out of my mouth. Before he could answer, I squeezed his hand. "Sorry. I don't know—"

"It's okay. And yes, I really did." He smiled a crooked smile. "I wanted you to be happy, Paula. I really did. You and Mary, both."

"Thank you. Thank you for everything. I don't say that enough. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank—"

I lifted his hand and brought it to my lips; I kissed it gently. "I know I don't, but I still do. Thank you, Mark."

I set his hand down just as Mary skipped into the room and demanded cereal. "Today is Sunday!" she announced. "What are we doing?"

I looked at Mark and shrugged. He cocked his head for a second, then he said, "I think it's time for me to go car shopping. The Honda is nearly twelve years old. I think it's time to get a new car."

I nodded.

"And while I'm talking to the dealer, you two can go to the park," he added—which caused Mary to look up from her bowl of cereal and cheer.

*****

Mark's story

My hand tingled from where Paula kissed it. It was hours later and I could still feel the back of my hand tingle. Throughout the test drive and the never-ending negotiations, the tingling reminded me that Paula was in my life.

For how long? No idea. But she was here now, along with Mary. The two of them played at the park as I finished the negotiations.

"You drive a hard bargain," the young salesman told me. He and I had become best friends—or so he wanted me to believe. Just like his boss wanted me to believe we were the best of friends. Just like the financing lady wanted me to believe I would be more handsome and virile if only I purchased the extended warranty and gap insurance.

I didn't respond. We had negotiated a decent price—a fair price—and if the dealership thought they were going to make some extra money from sourcing the financing, that was fine. I may have forgotten to mention that I would have the loan paid off within 30 days.

It was time to break into my retirement savings.

I drove the old Honda to the park, after stopping along the way to pick up some burgers, fries, and drinks. The three of us sat on a bench while we ate lunch; then Mary headed back to the play area while Paula and I sat together, watching her.

My hand still tingled from the morning kiss.

"I don't know what I'm going to do now," Mary started. "We may need a couple more months until—"

"Don't worry about it. Truth is, I enjoy having you both share my place," I interjected. I really didn't want Paula obsessing about what she thought she owed me.

Mary searched my eyes but I'm sure she saw I was telling the truth. I was 62 years old and who was I going to leave my money to, anyway? My ex-wife had already taken more than her fair share. Whatever money I took from savings for her legal bills or for the new car was completely worth it to me, if I could make Paula and Mary happy by doing so.

I cleared my throat. "Anyway, there's some stuff we should talk about." I took a breath. "Freeman's is probably going to make me an offer to come back to them." I smiled slightly. "They seem to have a sudden opening for a Senior Manager."

"Gary," Paula said flatly.

I nodded. "Turns out the previous Senior Manager had a bit of a hand-eye coordination problem."

She looked at me, not getting the joke. Maybe it wasn't all that funny.

"He looked at things—and touched things—that he shouldn't have," I explained. "HR escorted him from the premises a couple of weeks ago. Apparently, at least one—maybe two—female employees are getting a large legal settlement. So ... now they have an opening."

Her mouth opened as she got it. Then she smiled. "Good. He was a jerk," she said.

I nodded. "Seems that way."

She looked at me. "If they offer, will you say 'yes'?"

I nodded. "I think so. I think it'll be for the best."

"How to you figure that?"

I just looked at her. I wanted her to figure it out for herself, without me having to say anything.

"Oh, Mark. Really?"

I nodded again. "Really, Paula." I sighed. "I can't ... I don't want to keep going on like this—you know? Like we're a family but not really a family. You need to find a man closer to your age. Plus, me leaving Carson's will give you the opportunity to apply for Assistant Manager. You're ready, and I'll tell them so. So ... you'll have more money, so you and Mary can take care of yourselves." I tried to smile. "It's a win-win."