Sins of the Mother by Victoria Christopher Murray

compared to what he usually spent in a month’s time on food, clothes, and entertainment.
    Except on this bill, six hundred of those dollars had been spent in one place—Flowers For You. He took another sip of his wine and, in his mind, added up how much he’d given this flower shop since June 2008, the month his divorce had become final.
    This is getting ridiculous.
    Especially since it didn’t seem like he was making any progress.
    Yes, Alexis always called him. Yes, she always thanked him. But that’s where her gratitude ended, with just a simple: “Hello . . . thank you, Brian, but you’ve really got to stop doing this . . . take care.”
    It seemed that, unlike him, his wife had moved on.
    But how was he supposed to accept that? Just let her go? Giving up just wasn’t in his DNA.
    This drive for his ex-wife had his sex therapist more than a bit concerned.
    “You’ve made Alexis your new obsession, and it’s going on too long. Any reconciliation would never work if she’s your new addiction.”
    But that was as ridiculous as the amount of money he’d been spending on flowers. How could Alexis ever be an addiction when she was the love of his life?
    “Alexis.” Just saying her name made him take another sip of wine. “Alexis.” And then, after a moment, he put the glass down. Maybe it was time—it had been three years since they’d first separated. She’d moved on; he had to do the same.
    The ringing doorbell stopped those thoughts. And Brian sighed. Since any guest had to be announced by the concierge, he knew who was standing on the other side of the door.
    Misty.
    His new neighbor had been living in the building for only thirty days, but from the moment they’d met in the elevator on her move-in day, Misty had found one reason to keep stopping by.
    “Do you have any sugar?” she would ask him with a faint southern drawl.
    What Misty lacked in creativity, she made up for in persistence. Though he’d never given her any grounds to believe he was interested, Misty needed sugar at least three times a week.
    But even if he could find a way to give up on Alexis, he wouldn’t be heading toward the blond ponytail-bopping twentysomething. That was not how he rolled.
    The bell chimed once more, and he brought his wineglassagain to his lips. When the bell chimed a third time, Brian pushed himself from the sofa. If he was going to move on, maybe Misty could help him get back into the game.
    Taking quick steps, he thought about what he would say. No doubt, Misty would be wearing her signature Daisy Duke shorts and some sort of cutoff shirt—even in the dead of Los Angeles’s sixty-degree winter. Maybe he would tell her that he wanted to borrow some of
her
sugar.
    That thought made him crack up with laughter, but then it all stopped when he swung open the door.
    A couple of seconds passed before Alexis said, “Are you going to invite me in?” She didn’t wait for his response, just stepped past him as he stood with his mouth wide open.
    It was the whiff of the flowers she held that brought him out of his stupor.
    “I just stopped by to see if you still had any furniture,” she said, peering around the apartment that the two of them had shared for more than five years of marriage.
    Brian frowned as he finally closed the door. “Any furniture?” he echoed like a parrot. That was all he could say as he stared at his ex-wife. She sure looked good, still wearing the short, curly haircut she’d gotten when they’d first divorced.
    “Yeah.” She unbuttoned the cashmere swing jacket that she wore. “’Cause you’ve been spending all of your money on these.” Holding up the bouquet, she grinned, though it looked more like she felt sorry for him than anything else. “By now,” she kept on, “I thought for sure you’d be broke and that you would’ve started selling your furniture.”
    He chuckled, getting his bearings, ready for their banter. “As you can see,” he said, opening his arms