"Mommy."

"Hmm?"

"Mommy wake up. . . mom-my, I'm hungry. Get up!"

Mommy?

"Okay darling," my mouth responds before I have the chance to catch up. "You woke mommy up from a
nice dream."

"What was your dream about?"asks a young girl climbing on the bed next to me.

What's going on? This isn't Susan's apartment! This isn't my house!

"It was about a handsome man and he was going to take mommy out on a date."

"Was he verrry handsome?"

"Yes, he had beautiful green eyes."

"More beautiful than mine eyes?"

"Never," my head shakes, "You have the prettiest eyes mommy has ever seen. So what does my Hannah want for breakfast this morning?"

Your Hannah? This isn't possible. If you're not Susan, then where am I now? More importantly, why haven't I woken up yet?

"Pancakes!" She beams. "And Jack has a poopy."

"Of course he has a poopy."

This wasn't part of the plan, my plan. What about the date with Reid? Susan needs me!

"Man, that was some dream mommy had. I still can't shake it off..." she mumbles.

This body slugs out of bed and drags her feet to the baby's room. Sure enough there's her toothless toddler bouncing in his crib and I can smell his present just waiting to be opened. Mommy changes his diaper while I refuse to look. Glancing at her hands, they appear dry with a few wrinkles and no ring. Much like Rebecca.

She sets Jack in a highchair in the kitchen, then pours a handful of Cheerios on his tray. This is a different routine than Susan's, she didn't have to fix small bottles of milk for anyone. She gathers a bag of flour, eggs and a bowl to whisk for Hannah's pancakes, smiling as she sees her already watching cartoons on the couch.

Waiting to flip the cakes, I encourage her to glance at the fridge. There's a collage of construction paper and drawings. Park and birthday pictures also decorate the door, almost covering the calendar. According to the markings it's Monday August 24, 2015 and Hannah has a play date. I keep searching for loose papers, hoping for more clues.

"Mom, the pancakes are burning again," Hannah points to the stove from the couch.

"Sugar!" My body shouts and I hear Hannah giggle.

If that isn't the cutest sound I've ever heard.

After tossing the pancake into the trash bin, she pours the mix again and assures herself to do better this time. Luckily, I see a diaper bag at the end of the counter, at arm's length from Jack. We dive into a mess of receipts, diapers and baby toys, digging out an oversized wallet from the very bottom.

No. No that's not possible! Take the license out!

She doesn't question why she's doing this, for all she knows, she meant to look for something and forgot midway.

Anne? But how?

"Mom?"

"Right! Pancakes! I'm on it!" She rushes to the stove and replace the golden flat cakes with a new batch. But I'm not done yet.

Anne, run to the bathroom!

She lowers the flame on the stove and rushes to the toilet, pulling down her yoga pants before she has a chance to arrive. While we sit there, I pull her hair out of her band to see for my own eyes. She's blonde. After she flushes and proceeds to wash her hands, I stare in disbelief.

How do you look exactly like her?

The resemblance is uncanny. Sure she's 33 but it's still the same face. Same mole on her chin too! This makes no sense. Is there something I'm missing?

"Pancakes!"

Anne serves breakfast after she pushes Jack's high chair in front of the table. She chops a small banana and adds it to his tray with a few blueberries. He's a funny little guy, learning to master the skill of index finger and thumb. He squishes the bananas, rolls the berries around, and shows no guilt as he tosses some to the floor.

"No, Jack," Anne says while chewing.

I study Hannah now with her golden wavy hair and tiny set of teeth. She chomps with her mouth open and looks back at the television. Her hand controls the fork well, even though she uses the other to tear pieces off and stick them to her fork. Seems like a lot of work for a . . .

"Hannah, how old are you?"

This doesn't faze the little girl as she smiles and concentrates on raising four fingers. I turn to Jack doubting I'll get the same response.

"And how old is Jack?"

He shows me his fist and I see the fruit oozing out from the sides. I'm guessing it takes longer to clean up around here more than anything.

I step aside and let Anne continue about her morning. She washes the dishes, cleans the table, gives Jack a bath and instructs Hannah to get dressed. Once Jack is dressed, she places him back in the crib and checks on Hannah before she takes a shower herself. She's indecisive whether to tell Hannah to change out of her blue princess dress or let the girl have her way.

Anne makes little effort for her appearance, after seeing how long it takes her to get the kids ready, I don't blame her. She's got her hands full! Though I remember Rebecca, how she wore bold lipsticks and kept her hair polished. Maybe that's the difference between a career and stay at home mom. By the looks of it, Anne wasn't a slob just less high maintenance.

We arrive at a friend's house and Hannah runs straight in. Jack is passed out and gets placed in a portable crib by the living room. Anne tiptoes down the hall and finds Hannah playing with her little friend in a pink room. That's a little too pink for my taste.

"Thank you so much, Carmen. I'll just be a few hours and even bring you back a treat."

"Bring me a quesito."

"You know I don't know what that is," Anne smiles.

Que-what-o?

"I know."

Anne shakes her head and playfully pushes Carmen. She reminds her to call if anything comes up as she exits the door. Even though her kids are inside, she keeps looking through her rearview mirror at the empty carseats. Mommy timeouts don't happen often I assume.

We park and look at the mirror, only this time it's to check the crinkles and dried lips. Anne rummages through her small purse, unlike the Marry Poppin's diaper bag, and takes out a tinted lip balm. She pulls out her hair tie and begins to gather her hair in a ponytail.

Let your hair down, Anne.

She pauses and ruffles her hands through her flat tresses. I smile when she pinches her cheeks before stepping out of the car. That's an old trick.

I was wrong. Anne did make an effort today. She's wearing new jeans; they feel so snug and stiff. The flats are a bit worn in but her striped shirt looks classy. Once Anne grabs a shopping cart, she places her purse in the front and checks her hair as she walks in. Undecided, she tucks it behind her ears and after a few paces, she combs it out. I get the feeling she hides behind her kids a lot and doesn't know what to do with herself now.

Strolling down the aisles, Anne checks items off the grocery list. I keep looking out the window of her eyes, it's perfect for people watching. She pretends not to care, but Anne glances at each person that crosses her path. Her skin gets a cold flash if she smiles and it's not reciprocated; preferring now to wait for them to go first before returning the gesture.

Parked in the center of the aisle, Anne counts how many items are left on her list. A man passes by and she apologizes, realizing how much room she's hogging. Peeking behind her, Anne catches another glimpse before pushing her cart forward.

Wait! Stop!

She comes to a halt.

"Am I forgetting something?"

Just look one more time!

She turns her head and sees no one. Anne shrugs her shoulders and pushes the load to the next aisle, cereal boxes. Searching for a specific kind, she tosses them inside and looks ahead.

There!

We see the same man, or tall boy rather, wearing a thin hoodie. Is it possible to recognize someone by their hair alone? Surely that's not the case between Anne and Susan. The guy stands there holding a case of beer and grabs the largest Lucky Charms off the shelf. Anne shakes her head and smiles but when he turns I keep her in place.

This is a joke right?!

Anne looks down at her groceries.

No, up!

We make eye contact. He's not pulling away and I force Anne to stay on him, despite how insecure she feels.

It is you! It's Reid! Or wait, maybe he's not...

I can't imagine Reid wearing dirty white sneakers or sporting messy hair. His long legs stride right by us, not before sharing a stunning smile. Shaking off her daze, a grin spreads and we continue.

Anne, you must talk to him. I may not know what's going on, but it's not a coincidence that he's here.

"Yeah, I don't think that's going to happen." She exhales and keeps shaking her head at the thought.

Why not?

"I haven't dated since . . . and he's way too young," she mumbles and turns the corner.

I notice she talks so calmly to herself; I bet most mothers do. She's already brushed off the idea as she places two juice bottles in her cart. The list is done. Anne marches on and slows down before I have a chance to see what for.

He's still here.

What else could he be shopping for, his hands are full. Not the best actor, he observes a few shelves and glances over. Warmth is rising to Anne's cheeks; I remember Susan's same reaction. He holds the cereal box under his arm and takes his phone out. We're getting closer, about to cross one another and his body turns.

"Excuse me, can you tell me the time?" he asks as he slides his phone back in his pocket. "My phone just died."

Anne narrows her eyes at him but checks anyway.

"It's 11:45."

"Thank you, ma'am."

She nods and secretly cringes at his polite manners. He made the age gap quite obvious. Anne tucks her hair behind her ears and I know she's giving up; I don't want her to. She should feel proud of how amazing she looks for having two kids. Any guy would be lucky to have her but she struggles with the idea as her groceries get bagged.

"Miss!"

I hear someone cry out while Anne unloads her things in the SUV.

"Miss?"

Anne turns around to find the same guy. I smile for her.

"Did I forget something?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact you did. . . my number."

"Wow! You're smooth," she smirks.

"I thought older women liked that?"

"I guess it depends on your preference of cougar."

"You're far too pretty and classy to be a cougar."

"Hmm... can't decide if that's a compliment or not. " She smiles amused.

You're really enjoying this. I didn't think you had a sassy bone in you.

"I'm sorry. May I start over? I couldn't help notice how attractive you are and so I was hoping you wouldn't turn me down."

You should be flattered. He's just as nervous.

"That's very sweet of you, but I'm afraid I can't."

"You can't or you won't? Am I too young? I just turned 23 and if you don't believe me I can show you my license."

Not another California license.

"How do you know I'm not married or seeing someone?" She grins and takes the empty cart to the parking dock.

"No ring, and we made eye contact in every aisle. But you don't strike me as forward woman, so here I am."

Anne is waiting by her car door, considering this opportunity. Images of Jack and Hannah flood in and I sense her guard rise. We both wonder if he would be here had her kids come along.

"What if you gave me your number and I tried to persuade you later?" he takes out his phone.

"Dead battery, huh?"

He is smooth.

"Can you blame a guy for trying?"

"I guess not. You need to work on that though."

"Well it must be working a little bit. You haven't driven away yet." He flashes that bright smile again.
She's not convinced and opens her door, but I'm too busy staring into his green eyes. The same green eyes.

"Okay, I have a buddy playing tonight at The Groove. He'll probably start around 8:00 but we'll be there all night. Will you at least think about it?"

"The Groove. Is it college mic night?"

"Yeah," he hisses. "But don't let that stop you from coming. It's a varied crowd."

"I'll think about it."

"Alright. At least you didn't say no, even if you're just being nice."

We smile before climbing in but I feel how giddy she is inside. She see's her cheeks turn red through the rearview mirror and jumps at the sound of her trunk closing. Embarrassed, she recognizes his sweater standing beside her car and lowers the window.

"Thank you."

"No problem. Listen, I'm afraid I won't see you again, so can you at least tell me your name?"
Impressed by his persistence, she gives him that much. He introduces himself and I agree the name suits him.

"Will," she thinks aloud and raises the volume to the radio.

---

"Tell me you're going to wear that red skirt tonight," Carmen says before biting in to an Éclair.

"Red skirt-no! He's a decade younger than me," Anne laughs careful not to spill her coffee.

Sitting in the back patio, watching their kids play in the sandbox, Anne recounts her supermarket rendezvous. Pretending to be against the idea, I know she's only fooling herself. Even Carmen can see past that.

"Anne, it's been a year already. You need to move on, get out there and date! A woman shouldn't go that long without sex."

"Carmen!" She blushes.

I feel myself blushing.

"All I'm saying is, just because you have kids doesn't mean you can't have fun."

"I have fun."

"The kinda fun that doesn't involve a playground, online shopping or chat rooms."

"You make me sound so boring. I'll be the oldest person there. And what are we going to talk about my latest translation, schools for Hannah or cooking recipes?"

"Callate! You're being dramatic. You have a lot to offer and no, you don't have to talk about those things tonight. Just have a good time," she winks. "And please do something with that mop!"

"Does it look that awful?"

"The important thing is you still have a date."

"You know what? I had a dream I was going out on a date but woke up before it actually happened."

"See, the universe is telling you something. It's time to shave and show those legs in that red skirt you never wear."

"What is it with you and this red skirt?" Anne shakes her head and lunges a rock-size crumb at her friend.

"It's settled, the kids can spend the night. Just in case you make it back to your place."

Her smile is evil. I like her.

"I've never been that reckless, I don't think I could do that."

"It's not if you could, rather, when are you gonna get another chance?"

"Okay!"

"And the young age is just a bonus. They have the stamina to go all night long, if you know what I mean."

Anne bursts in to laughter. I'm convinced she's agreed to go out tonight after all. She joins the kids and helps Carmen make dinner. After they're bathed, we drive back to her house to tidy up. And once the house is taken care of, it's time to pamper Anne.

She shaves and curls her hair at the ends, thanks to a little persuasion. We try on the red skirt but she cringes at how much older it makes her look. College groups are more laid back. With that in mind, Anne finds a pair of white capris with a mint top and sandals.

---

"I can't do this," Anne says behind the steering wheel.

Carmen said to enjoy yourself, if you back out now, you'll never hear the end of it.

Driving into a different part of town, she parks and checks her appearance. We look around and there's no age difference.

I'm proud of your outfit, Anne. There's some interesting girls here tonight.

"Very interesting," she mumbles and heads for the bar.

Where is he?

Anne checks her watch, it's a quarter to eight. She asks the bartender for a White Russian and for a moment I wonder how Susan's date is going. We notice a few men at the end of the bar and I give Anne a mental nudge. She sees Will laughing and sipping his beer, occasionally catching him stare at the entrance.

He's looking for you! Do something!

His friend leaves, assuming he's the performer. Will also stands and checks the door quickly before slamming his empty bottle down. Anne calls the bartender and tells him she'd like to but a beer to the guy in the blue button shirt. He does so and when he points in her direction, Will's eyes widen and he grins. He knows to come over right away.

"You came! Thank you for my beer."

"You're welcome and thank you for the invite."

"We have a table close to the stage. Shall we?"

Still smiling we make our way over. Will scoots his chair next Anne's so we're both facing the platform. He's close enough to smell and what a scent it is. How cute do we look in our easter egg colors too! His hair is combed back, still unruly but the effort is noted. The lights are dimming, blocking the rest of the audience from our peripheral. Anne gazes ahead and stirs her drink on the table. Does she not feel him looking at her because I can.

The acoustics echo throughout the room, accompanied by faint chatter. Anne asks a series of questions, the basics, to get a feel for the guy. He sounds educated, I haven't caught much slang terms or any cussing; that's important if he's going to be around the kids. Then again, I could be thinking way ahead.

"Enough about me. Please tell me more about you."

"Me? I have two amazing children and I work from home. Born and raised in Southern California and . . .
I've been divorced for a year now. Sorry, I know that's a lot."

"I'm impressed."

How does he seem so cool about this?

"You are?"

"Of course! How old are your children? What are their names?"

"Hannah is 4 going on 15 and Jack is a year and a half."

"I admire you, I bet you're a great mom. It can't be easy."

"It isn't but somehow society thinks I sit on my ass all day. . . Sorry."

"No, don't be. Can I return the favor and get you a drink now?"

"Sure."

This feels good. Unless it's a gimmick to get in Anne's pants later. In which case, it's negotiable. Will returns with her drink and slides his chair an inch closer. Now our elbows are touching.

Does he realize our elbows are touching? Do you?

"Have I mentioned how lovely you look tonight?"

"You don't have to win anymore points with me. I, on the other hand, have some catching up to do."

"You won all points by simply coming tonight."

"There's no way you're this sweet," Anne blushes and can barely drink on account of her wide smile.

"Oh, but I am. Ask my friend. . . when he's done," he says with a crooked smile. "Seriously though, I'm glad you came. Aren't you?"

I witness the sparks go off in Anne's eyes as she bites her bottom lip before taking another drink. Everything is fine till this point, but then he stares at her lips in such a way, it's affecting me now too. I betray her. I look into his eyes as though it were just him and I. There's a familiarity there, a magnetic pull and I decide to act on it before the moment passes us by.

Sorry, Anne.

He's craving me like I'm craving him. Will licks his lips and his posture leans ever so slightly. I take the cue and meet him the rest of the way, even a bit further. I sense Anne's shock the moment we kiss, she's not moving. The person that's kissing him back, that's all me. Only when I close my eyes, I see another version of him, the same set of eyes but with longer hair.

I lose focus and Anne pulls away. She's not mad, far from it, but I get the feeling she doesn't trust herself tonight. Will and Anne are both in a daze after their first kiss.

---

Anne pulls in to her driveway and Will parks right beside her. I've gotten her this far, ignoring her resistance, but she needs this. Her chest is beating, her palms are sweaty and shaky as she pulls the keys from the ignition. Looking to her left, watching Will get out of the car slowly, Anne doubts she can pull through. This makes me reconsider my actions. How much am I allowed to meddle in, this isn't my life after all.

Anne, it's your turn.

She smiles frantically, searching for the house key with little light. I don't like how calm he is while Anne is just a wreck. She tells him to excuse the mess and turns the kitchen light on. Will follows a few feet behind until we stand in the middle of the hallway. She's torn between the bedroom or relaxing on the couch first.

I sense he's reading all her insecurities and it almost feels like a violation of privacy. Maybe this is a bad idea. I thought Anne wanted a night of passion, that once she got him in her house, she would stop at nothing till they consummated the date. But she just stands there and fidgets with her nails, unwilling to initiate.

Will comes closer, his confidence making him seem older. Lifting her chin with his hand, I engage in the sensual fury of his gaze and wait for his lips to touch mine-hers. When they do, what was once a little light turns into a blazing fire inside. She had tamed it for so long, forgetting how amazing it felt to be desired and held. I can feel her let go with each passing second.

It's slow, like first kisses should be. He's wooing Anne with his full lips, giving her a taste of what this could lead to. Will's hands cup her face and the intensity grows, becoming a little desperate.

"My . . ." She exhales as he kisses down her neck. "This feels amazing."

You're thinking aloud.

"You're very good at that," she whispers with a giggle. "I'm getting a bit dizzy. Aren't you dizzy? Am I talking too much?"

Yes! I know you're nervous. Relax.

Will guides her softly against the wall where he continues to kiss across her collarbone. Hannah's room is in full view, influencing her thoughts and triggering her guilt. His hand grazes down her chest and stomach, almost touching her skin beneath her shirt but Anne grabs his hand. The kissing stops immediately.

"Will. Will stop," she pleas and he obeys. "I'm sorry, I can't do this. This isn't me."

He takes a step back leaving Anne to smooth out her hair and pull down her shirt. The hall is darker now that the mood has shifted. I can still feel his lips and she touches them to relive the sensation.

"You don't need to apologize, I just got the impression that . . ."

"And that's my fault! I thought I could, but. . . it's too fast."

"I'm gonna go."

He appears unsure but more embarrassed for assuming he'd spend the night. The goodbye is awkward and it saddens me to think it began so well. Maybe I should've intervened again. Once Anne undresses and stands in front of the mirror, I see clearer. Fingers trace her stretch marks and pull at the excess skin on her stomach. Her insecurities got the best of her tonight.

She slips into an oversized shirt after she washes her face. This is her comfort zone, this shell. Tucking herself into bed, she grabs the copy of Mansfield Park on her night stand and turns to the folded corner, page 24. While she looses herself in fiction before bed, I wonder if she'd rather hide every night than to dare explore love again.

Notes