On this day four months ago I said good-bye to Mr. Man.

I didn’t look back.

And I never told you all why.

Some of you have told me I am obligated to write about this in detail. Others have speculated on what he may or may not have done.

One of you left a comment on my Mr. Man break up post last week that asks if I was running away from something or looking for an out…

Was I running?

Maybe.

I have never said that single moms come to trust men easily. Mr. Man and I had only been dating for six weeks when it happened. If a promise – to that magnitude – is broken so early on, and if you also happen to be a recovering bad boy addict and have a child, yes – you may “over react” or “run away.”

It happens.

A serious gut check coupled with a dash of fear can spell disaster for any man dating a single mom.

The commenter also suggested, as many of you have, that Mr. Man did something to harm Benjamin (either physically or emotionally). I want to make it very, very clear that he broke a promise to me, not to my son. He had not done anything to hurt Benjamin.

His foot was just cracking open the door. He wasn’t entirely “in” yet.

I made my decision to protect Benjamin from something that may or may not happen in the future. Something emotional, like losing his step-father not abuse.  I was speculating and coming to a conclusion based on a pattern of behavior.

Mr. Man is one of the few people on this Earth I would actually trust with my son’s life. And yes, he’s a great guy. But he is not my guy. The promise involved a decision he made that jeopardized his own future. He didn’t cheat on me. He didn’t even lie to me. He just made a bad choice, one I couldn’t live with.

That’s all I can say… for his privacy and mine. I hope that clears things up a bit. And again, you’ll have to trust me on this one.

—–

When I first saw Morgan Siler it was in the San Francisco airport.

I remember watching the stream of travelers pouring out of the terminal and thinking I’d spotted her. When I finally did there was no mistaking her. She has a presence, a light.

It’s truly amazing.

When we’re together I feel like it was just meant to be. Watch the video we made in San Francisco for evidence. (Thanks to Jim again for shooting that).

After Morgan moved to Kentucky, just three hours away from me, she and her son Lucca came for a visit. And everything came full circle. The boys were even better friends than we were. Identical in every way except for their hair color.

Here we all are… happy as can be.

One week from today Morgan and I will be on separate flights to Chicago where we’ll meet to pick up that new car I won. After my top secret agent and drivers training (I have to re-learn a stick), Morgan and I will be driving the car back together.

And we’ll have video cameras.

It could get a little crazy.

But guess what?

I’m more excited to see Morgan than my new Ford Fiesta. NO offense Ford but you have to meet Morgan.

You’d understand.

—–

We want to have a single mom meet up in Chicago on Friday the 24th. If any of you live there – where would be a good place to meet?

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I threw on my gold, slinky dress, slipped on my knee high leather boots and then topped it off with a long black wig which I’d braided earlier. Part of a group Peter Pan costume, I was Tiger Lily.

“C’mon! Get yours on,” I shouted to Mr. Man as I started in on my make up. A Halloween street party was waiting and I couldn’t handle the excitement.

Earlier that day we’d taken Benjamin to a thrift store to hunt for Mr. Man’s costume. Normally any trip to a store results in a near melt down by myself and definitely at least one tantrum from Benjamin. But with Mr. Man there to help we were able to divide and conquer.

“You look in that aisle, I’ll look in this one,” I said.

Between distracting Benjamin with fun games or “find me this or find me that” and rows and rows of used clothes we finally found every single piece of Mr. Man’s Joker costume; a purple suit, a purple tie and a green shirt. It was a minor miracle and I didn’t even break a sweat.

Later that afternoon we took Benjamin trick or treating with Mia and Sydney.

“Look, Benjamin, look! There’s another house,” Mr. Man would say while guiding my little monkey down the sidewalk. Once Benjamin couldn’t peddle anymore Mr. Man popped him up onto his shoulders and grabbed his feet, playing with him and pulling on his legs – making him laugh continuously, for minutes and minutes on end.

He wasn’t just falling for me, I realized, he was falling for both of us. This is the stuff you just can’t fake – not that men in the past have faked loving Benjamin but Mr. Man, a father himself, absolutely loves being one.

Almost as soon as we got back to Mia’s house, she ushered us out, “Go! Go have fun, get out of here!”

“Yeah, Mommy,” chimed Benjamin, “Go away! Me sleeping at Sydney’s house, kay?”

“Alright, we’re going, we’re going,” I said.

It wasn’t until our quiet walk down the street to my place that it dawned on us – for the first time since we’d met – we were going to have a date. We’d spent the past two weekends at my mom’s house surrounded by family, friends or Benjamin; unable between them all to find more than an hour or two alone.

After Mr. Man had his purple suit on, he sat down across from me so I could transform him into the Joker. As I started dabbing on the white paint, he rested his hands on my knees, running his thumb delicately over my hose and along the edge of my dress.

Between focusing on the job at hand, I would look into his eyes only to find that they were looking intently into mine. He wasn’t telling me how to put it on, wasn’t concerned or worried about seeing his reflection in a mirror. In fact, I don’t think he cared what I was putting on his face only that he had a chance to see mine so closely while I was completely focused on something other than life, work or Benjamin.

“I love seeing your smile,” he said.

“Shhhh…don’t move your lips.”

“Okay, but can I have a kiss first before you paint them?”

——-

One hour later we slipped away from the costumed masses on the street into a bar. I found a spot at an empty table and immediately started to think about everything, letting my mind run wild in fear.

“Why so serious?” he said in his deep Joker voice.

“I’m thinking about you,” I said while staring into my beer bottle, “and I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be. I’m not going anywhere.” He paused, “I’m serious. I can see you and Benjamin in my future… as far as I can see actually.”

“Really? How? How do you know that?”

“It just feels so right to be with you. Look, I wasn’t expecting this either, wasn’t planning on it at all. I just know how I feel when I’m around you and I can’t see any reason why this can’t work.” And with that, covered in his Joker make up, now suddenly serious himself, Mr. Man convinced me to open my heart and my mind to the idea of a future with someone else in the picture.

“Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll give it everything I have. I can’t guarantee anything about where it will go, but I can guarantee you that I’ll try my very best.”

“This is just the beginning,” he said squeezing my hands, “and it’s only going to get better. I promise.”

And with that we headed into the night.

Maybe it was the way he guarded me from passing cars with his body, the way he held me when we danced or the way he asked about Benjamin when I looked at my phone – “How’s little Benjamin?” – I’m not quite sure what it was but I completely and absolutely let myself go, let myself drop a little further into that Rabbit Hole.

After hours of dancing, talking and dancing some more we hailed a cab for the ride home.

“What’s your name?” Mr. Man asked the cab driver.

“George.”

“George, is this not the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen?”

George looked at me in his rear view mirror, this slightly embarrassed and slightly intoxicated Tiger Lily with no story other than the mask covering her face and said, “Yes, she’s definitely pretty.”

“Well,” said Mr. Man, “I’m going to marry this girl!”

I can’t remember what I said, or if I said anything at all. I think I just smiled, the kind of smile Mr. Man loves to see, the kind I can’t control. And rather than opening up that cab door and jumping into the pavement possessed by fear, I scooted in closer to him, letting him wrap his arm around my shoulders.

“I am going to marry you,” he whispered into my ear.

“Whatever! You’re out of your mind, crazy man.”

My words were no good here, he just laughed and pulled me closer, “God, I love those lips and I sure do love that smile.”

We laughed the rest of the way home and by the time we pulled into my driveway George was laughing too.

To be continued…

If you can’t get enough Mr. Man stories, click here for more.

[Photo: my Halloween self-portrait, trying to get into character]

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I’ve finally found some words, between the haze of my viral infection – here you go… the start to the story of how I met Mr. Man. The story, as you know, is still unfolding.

We met at the bar my mother and I used to frequent after my father died.

Mom and I were there this time, not to drown our sorrows, but to celebrate her birthday. As soon as we stepped inside she took off for the patio and I took the only empty seat at the bar – right next to Mr. Man.

His southern drawl told me immediately he was a townie, a working stiff, the real deal. Incompatible, I thought. I’m a city girl, constantly attached to some kind of electronic device. Or maybe we could work, this thought didn’t come until later after I’d left him at the bar and returned nearly an hour later to find him discreetly holding my seat, waiting for me to come back.

Only then did I really look into his eyes and realize that this man wasn’t kidding around or playing me, he was serious. Beneath his rough exterior I saw a soft, strong heart and something very comforting, familiar almost. We talked for hours there at the bar. What shocked me the most, after years now of dating so many of those fish in that big bad sea, was his genuine interest in listening to what I had to say.

And he responded to my thoughts, not with fantastical stories but with stories that related to mine, stories he told because he wanted to share them with me not because he wanted to prove something or get me into bed.

Three hours later, near closing time, Mom started gesturing behind his head, pointing to him with her thumb high in the air and mouthing, “I like him.” A few moments later she invited him back to her house. I, completely intoxicated at this point, threw out all logic and went along with the plan. We’d go home and wake up my uncle and Mom’s man, Larry and have a little party. It would be great!

Yeah, sure, keep talking drunk Alaina.

Had we not taken him home that night I’m not quite sure if I ever would have seen him again. In fact, I’m almost certain I would have just brushed him off… disregarding him as just another guy at another bar.

After talking deep into the night, I settled Mr. Man into the guest bedroom and headed upstairs to sleep with Benjamin. I woke up just a few hours later with a vicious headache. (I really don’t drink that often, so my hangovers are horrible when I do.) Only after rubbing my eyes and crawling out of bed to chase after Benjamin did I realize – to my horror – what had happened the night before. I had brought a man home! Seriously?

“Holy shit,” my brain was on fire, “What in the hell am I going to do? There’s a man. Here. In my mom’s house with my son. I am such a shitty, shitty mother.”

I started plotting some way to hide him. I’ll sneak him out the back door and take him home. But first, I’ve got to feed Benjamin. So I quietly made the eggs, the bacon and the biscuits – standard breakfast out in the woods at Mom’s. And then I heard his footsteps, coming up the stairs. Damn, he wakes up early.

And then there he was…

“Hello, Benjamin. How are you?” And just like that, Mr. Man leaned onto the counter and immediately dove right in to Benjamin Land.

He’d remembered his name from the night before on the couch. He had kissed me there after telling me he wanted to spend all of Sunday with us — he had offered to take Benjamin outside for a hike so I could rest. Could he have meant all of that? Really?

Moments after Benjamin finished his last bite Mr. Man scooped him up like a little stuffed animal, so light in his big arms, “C’mon, Benjamin, let’s go outside.” Apparently so.

I watched from the deck as he took Benjamin around the yard – pointing out the different trees, little animal tracks and hidden bee hives – things I never would have noticed or known to show him myself. I love the outdoors but I don’t know what the hell is what. Benjamin was enthralled – absolutely enthralled with this man – in fact, I’ve never seen him fall for an adult like he did for Mr. Man.

Oh shit. You shitty, shitty mom.

“You can’t really be here all day,” I told him later.

“Really? Why not?”

“Oh, it’s not that I don’t like you, I do – it’s just Benjamin. You can’t be around him too much, he’ll get attached.” I explain.

“You know what – you’re right, I can see how that could happen. But I’m more worried that I’ll get attached to him. This kid’s awesome. He really is. He’s just amazing.”

An hour later he was still there, we had taken a hike and afterwards Mr. Man had found Larry and my uncle by the campfire. I had been upstairs tucking Benjamin in for a nap when I came down to join them.

That’s when he held me with his eyes. Right there by the campfire with everyone chattering around us, he just looked at me and told me – without saying a word – “I’m here. I like you. And I’m not going anywhere – unless you tell me to.”

He nearly knocked me off of my little log stool. I swear, I still don’t know how he did that…

To be continued… Read the next Mr. Man installment here.

[Photo credit: Paul Schmaltz]

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