Silver Read online

  Silver

  AE Gamrat

  Silver

  Love will show its face when you least expect it.

  ©2020 AE Gamrat

  Editing by Mountains Wanted Publishing

  Cover Artist: Lee Chang

  Formatting by That Formatting Lady

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places events or incidents, medical procedures and medication, are fictitious or have been used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Actual television shows and music referenced are the sole property of their copyright entities and this author claims no ownership, creation, competition, or credit for such herein.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Thank You Note

  Other Books from AE Gamrat

  Where to Find AE Gamrat

  Chapter One

  What do you do when you receive bad news? Nothing else but clean your house from top to bottom. At least that’s how I combat stress and/or anxiety. It’s not the-end-of-the-world bad news, but what I was told this weekend is par for my life. Making me feel forty-two a tad bit more. Normally my slight aches and pains remind me of my age. This is the cake topper for my life.

  I get up every day and repeat, “This is the new you. This is the new you.” I put on a good show of having this new life all figured out. One day I was married, and the next day I was talking to a divorce attorney. I've been applauded every day for leaving the dirt bag, taking control of my life, but divorce was never the plan. Am I doing this right? is on constant repeat morning, noon, and night.

  Not for one second do I regret what I did, but I’m finding the New Ginny isn’t as easy as I originally thought. I proved to my kids that if you’re not happy or someone hurts you, don’t stand for it. Everyone deserves to be happy and be treated with kindness and love. I hope they see how I changed to get rid of the bad, and they can too. I will never look back on my decision to leave as a bad move, but damn it’s not easy.

  “Woman! You in there? I brought the goods,” Anne, my best friend, screams from the back door. I’ve been counting down the hours until she came yelling for me. Anne is my confidant in all aspects of my life.

  Every Sunday night she yells her arrival on the deck. The view is beyond breathtaking, and the deck is spacious, so that means Anne only comes into the house when she needs to. I love her so much. Her entrance always brings a smile to my face and warms my heart—her, my bedroom, and the huge window looking out over the deck.

  “I’m here. The coffee is almost done. Set up outside.” This is our Sunday night ritual. Coffee and some kind of dessert. The dessert comes from a few of our favorite places, but it’s always rich and decadent. We found out over death by chocolate how much life we wasted on idiot men. Right then and there we vowed always to have each other and dessert. Now we indulge, laugh, and are best friends.

  Pushing through the back door, holding a tray of coffee and cups, I’m stopped in my tracks by what I see. “What are you wearing?” Not laughing and trying not to spill the coffee is becoming a magic act.

  “Stop, you know this is forced,” she says, pointing at her chest.

  “A little warning would’ve been nice. Almost dropped my favorite tray. What was she thinking?” I ask, plopping down into my lounge chair. I am also wearing pjs, but instead of huge cat faces that look itchy, mine are pretty, soft, light blue clouds. Another tradition is pjs of any kind—they’re a must.

  “She told me since I love cats, why not wear them to bed?” She shrugs her shoulders. “I’m sure when MaryAnn bought you awful things, you sucked it up and wore them.”

  “I tried my hardest to hide those gifts until they were forgotten.” When the kids were little, it started out as a drawer. Over the years, it grew into a closet. Every parent hides the hideous gifts. My kids bought me anything that reminded them of their mom. I saved every obnoxious item they bought but tried my hardest to keep them hidden in the dark.

  “I kept these hidden for two years before I decided to clean out my closet while she was home.” Anne is clearly annoyed and trying not to scratch.

  “Oh, karma.” I laugh, wagging my finger at her. “Karma always bites you in the ass.” I took care of everything in the family home. My ex never even knew about my hiding spot. Anne’s mistake was such a rookie move.

  “I know, right?” she sighs out. “At least I can wear them here and only be made fun of by you. I think she is going to make me wear them for a while as punishment. You know, child guilt at its finest.”

  “Another true gem of being an empty-nester. I only have to worry about them popping in unannounced. I can truly hide all my dirty secrets now.” MaryAnn has been away at college for two years now, and her brother is a college grad. I love not having to worry about every tiny, meaningless detail in their lives. They're my kids, so they are always on my mind, but not having to worry about what they will eat today or laundry is an absolutely beautiful thing.

  “Two more years, not that I'm counting or anything.” She’s trying to hide her smile, but I see it popping out. “One weekend MaryAnn is home we need to get together; Stacey misses her,” Anne says. MaryAnn was so thrilled at my budding best friend relationship, she made sure to befriend Stacey. There is a decent age gap, but Stacey’s a cool girl and idolizes MaryAnn. MaryAnn will deny it all day, but she eats up Stacey’s devotion to her.

  This past winter Stacey was asked to homecoming and called MaryAnn, on her own, to see if she could come home and help her pick out a dress, and she also asked for some makeup tips. My sophomore college student came home multiple weekends to find a dress with her and then showed up the day of homecoming to do her makeup instead of giving her tips. I don’t think I've ever been more proud of her. To put parties and guys on hold for Stacey is the selflessness I tried my hardest to foster in my kids.

  When Anne found out my back story and family history, she couldn’t believe it. She knew I was a stay-at-home mom and my husband had a decent job. Money was never an issue, but I never walked around like my shit didn’t stink, or like if you didn’t have money, we couldn’t be friends. I lived a very privileged life, yes, but my parents made sure I had a solid head on my shoulders. When I told them about the divorce, no one scoffed at me or told me to hang in there. Dad took care of the attorney, and Mom told me, “You are doing the right thing, and your love will come one day.”

  So now I'm living my best life in my dream home, on the river, that I got in the divorce. What I got out of the divorce drops everyone’s jaw. People assume that since he cheated, I would take everything, demand all his money, and for him to be miserable for the rest of his life. What did I want when leaving him? Really, nothing. I know, but it’s true. I took all the sentimental items out of the house, split our assets accordingly, and asked for this house to be built.

  Over the last year, Stacey and MaryAnn have been hounding us to get out there and meet people. They use the word people, but we know they mean guys. Once Stacey started dating, she began hounding her mom to find love. MaryAnn was old enough to know that her father cheated on me and from day one t
alked about me finding the right guy. If only finding a guy was that easy, we would all have a perfect one.

  What man wants a forty-plus-year-old, with grown kids, stretch marks, and an ex-husband? If you know him, please let me know.

  “I know, I'll have to find this secret closet of yours or talk to MaryAnn. I'm sure we could come up with an outfit for you.” We sip our coffees in silence, Anne thinking up an outfit and me praying it never happens.

  “Did you ask Stacey how you’re supposed to meet men with night clothes like that?” Her outfit will keep a smile on my face for days. “I mean, really, there are two huge cat faces on your tits. I can’t even.” I won’t bring up the huge eyes that seem to follow you everywhere. Her tits are literally staring at me. I can’t make this shit up.

  “Let’s try to move on.” She waves her hands around, trying to shoo the conversation away. I continue to giggle like a teenager. “The more we talk about this outfit, the more it itches. Who even knows what kind of material this actually is? Thank goodness we didn’t have a fire tonight. I’d instantly go up in flames.” She laughs and cringes at that thought, then gives me a weird look. “It’s not too hot out for a fire, is it?”

  “Oh, stop it. I’m not setting you on fire tonight.”

  “Fine.” She pouts like a five-year-old. “How was your week?” she asks, pushing the conversation along.

  “Oh, uh, well,” I stutter. “My week was normal, but I did have a doctor’s appointment.” I was hoping to have more time to prepare myself for this conversation. Makes my skin crawl thinking about it.

  “And?” She is waiting for my response, but I don’t want to say. “Your tone is making me a little nervous.” Anne is now leaning forward, ready to grab my hand in a show of support.

  “Well…”

  “I’m here for whatever, you remember that.”

  “Sure, I guess. Made me realize I'm not a young girl anymore. Life is moving forward whether we want it to or not.”

  I'm not a young woman anymore, and I need to come to terms with that.

  Anne’s eyes go wide with anxiety. The more I stall, the more upset she becomes. I hate doing this to her, but god do I hate what they want me to do.

  I take another deep breath before the words leave my mouth. “I need bifocals.” She stares at me for seconds without moving. “What’s wrong?” She’s still sitting there not saying a word. “Didn't you hear what I said? I need bifocals.”

  “Oh, yes, I did.” She leans back in her chair. “I heard my best friend slash sister start a conversation like something is seriously wrong. I instantly worry, and it was over bifocals. BIFOCALS, GINNY, what the hell?” She throws her hands up in the air. “You are lucky we haven’t had cake yet, or I would be storming out of here.”

  To ensure she won’t leave, I cut her a big old piece of the cake and slide the plate right into her hands. “God, I know, but how am I supposed to meet someone now with big old bifocals?” My single status is barely a status. I don’t need another reason to push it back further.

  “Ginny,” she sighs.

  “I know, but one day I would like a man.” I'm all for being a single independent woman, but having a man around is nice.

  “Right, and he will love you and your big old bifocals.” Anne laughs loud and hard, thinking she’s so funny. “They’re only bifocals, so you can take them off when things get wild, and you’ll still be able to see. Then, when you kick him out, put them back on.”

  The mere thought of sleeping with a random man has me wanting to crawl under the covers. Anne is as leery of men as I am, but has been single longer, so her dry period is coming to an end. She's ready for action with no strings, drama, or expectations.

  When I left Him after twenty years of marriage, a one-night stand was number one on my Single Ginny List. I did everything for that man to further his career and take care of our family. What did I get out of it? Walking in on him screwing his secretary, who is my age! Can you believe the embarrassment of everyone knowing you were cheated on, but also his secretary is my age? Not some tight young thing to keep him feeling young. Those are the rules: a middle-aged asshole man is supposed to sleep with the slutty younger woman who is trying to get ahead. There's a whole lot of bitter in that thought. Oh well.

  The asshole didn’t even flinch when we locked eyes; he just kept humping away, so I walked out without making a sound. The secretary was obviously good at making fake moaning sounds; his shit was never that good when we were together. I was gone the next day with my head held high, ready to sow some wild oats of my own.

  I’ve been the good girl for too long. She needs to let her hair down and find her own way. Only, as easy as it sounds, it is the complete opposite—which is why Anne and I eat cake and drink coffee on Sunday night.

  “Very true.” I try to sound excited. Once I was out there ready for some fun, I found out that I'm not wired that way. I don’t need a formal proposal or anything grand, but I need a little more than some alcohol and a nice smile to want to hop in bed with a guy. Very disappointing, but what can I do? When Anne or our other friend Claire brings up easy sex, I nod, agree, and laugh knowing full well that will probably never happen for me.

  “Yes!” Anne shouts, almost causing me to spill my coffee. “Dessert and sex, what else could we ask for?”

  “How about your son and neighbors not hearing how you two want dessert and sex?”

  We both startle and bump our knees on the underside of the table at Lou’s voice. The coffee and dessert barely hold on as we try to not scream at the top of our lungs.

  “Seriously, Mom.” Lou’s standing on the very last step reaching the deck, death-glaring us. He is my pride and joy, my firstborn, my only son, and he looks ready to scold us. We are two teenagers talking dirty, getting caught by dad.

  “I could take care of these lonely beds, but Annie, those clothes might have to go. All those eyes staring at me might cause Mr. Man some stage fright.”

  “Logan!” we all scream. He comes barreling through Lou to get to us. This one is always causing problems and making inappropriate comments, but he’s Lou’s best friend, so I love him. When he goes too far, we yell, and he laughs. My life is far from dull anymore.

  “Hey,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at me, “I like to keep all of my lady friends happy.”

  “Will you quit with my mom, dude?” Lou questions while grabbing him and pushing him through the door.

  “See you ladies later,” Logan yells over his shoulder, waving goodbye with his fingertips.

  “That young boy is fine,” Anne interjects while fanning herself. “I’m sure I lost any chance of a go with this god-awful outfit. I should tell Stace how I could’ve had a chance with Logan, but her gift snuffed that out quickly.”

  “You wouldn’t!” I gasp loudly.

  “Maybe,” she says defiantly. There’s a challenge in her eye I’ve never really seen before from her.

  “You know she has a major crush on him. She would kill you,” Everyone sees it but Logan. The age difference keeps his eyes innocently appropriate with her, but his flirting riles her up every time. It’s adorable, but we don’t tell her we know.

  “I know, I know.” She chuckles, fake pushing me over. “I would never even try, and I would never do that to my daughter. One day they’ll both get smacked in the face with reality. How they handle reality will show the fate of their relationship.”

  “Very insightful. Is it the triple chocolate cake giving you insightful thoughts tonight?”

  “I think so. This must be consumed on a daily basis.” She takes another big bite, smacking her lips when she pulls her fork out of her mouth.

  “That part is definitely true. It melts in your mouth.” Thank god the boys are gone because the moaning at each bite would have Logan all riled up and Lou ready to kill.

  Sunset, chocolate, and your bestie make for a great Sunday night. We chit chat the night away, mostly boring mundane mother stories and daily struggles of a single
woman. Our conversations lack any adventure or amusement, unless it’s trying to get all the trash out before the garbage men make it to our houses. The absolute worst is changing light bulbs that are attached to the ceiling. I will do anything, I mean anything around my house, but getting on a ladder and reaching overhead…no way. I send a thanks for being blessed with a tall boy. He changes all of my light bulbs and whatever else involves a ladder.

  “Oh, I do have something interesting.”

  We have been sitting in silence for far too long. The birds in the trees were even finding us boring and started to chirp louder.

  “Finally! We are so boring,” Anne says with a yawn.

  “I know. MaryAnn called me to tell me about family day at Ridge Mount.”

  “Isn’t that like a yearly thing for Ridge Mount? You went last year, right?”

  I’m trying to bring interest to the table, and she’s sitting across from me questioning my words.

  “Yes, I know, it’s very nice, but that isn’t the part I was talking about,” I say, rolling my eyes. “She was asking me what I was going to wear and what my timeframe was. And…He and She are coming too.”

  Her mouth hangs open at my last comment. “What? Are you kidding me? The nerve of those people. I thought MaryAnn didn’t want her around?”

  I stand to start cleaning up when Anne grabs my arm and points her eyes toward my chair. “Tell me what’s going on. I know the kids still love him, but her?”

  Loudly and dramatically, I throw myself back into my chair. I look out toward the trees because saying these next words may bring on tears or something, I don’t know. All I know is I want to hold these words forever and move on. “Well,” cracks out of my mouth like it’s physically tearing me apart to say this, “I guess they have been trying because He and She are living…”