by Jewel E. Ann
“I wish.” I give myself one really quick look at Nate in his biking shorts, black fitted biking shirt, fancy biking shoes, and messy hair that’s starting to grow back. Then I force my eyes to stay on his face, squinting against the sun. “My nephew now knows that PSA is not just a Public Service Announcement, but also a prostate specific antigen test, DRE stands for digital rectal exam, and when you’re old, someone will drive a van to your house to give your testicles an exam as well. Oh!” I hold up my finger. “Mustn’t forget to mention that Mr. H also compared it to a dog grooming truck, which segued into full disclosure that he could, in fact, use a tidy up down there. So how was your bike ride?”
He laughs, sitting next to me on the narrow steps which puts us close together as we watch the kids wait for the aliens to emerge. “It was a good ride, not nearly as informative as living with an old man who freely shares medical knowledge, but still good.”
I shake my head, but it doesn’t stop my cheesy grin. It’s funny and not at the same time … but mostly funny.
Nate nudges my shoulder with his. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Just been busy. My parents are at the airport, I assume waiting for their rental car. When do your parents arrive? Have you managed to keep it a secret? Surely you have, otherwise I’m certain Morgan would have been screaming it from the rooftop.”
“Oh, she would definitely be in hyper-Morgan mode. They arrive late tonight. I’ll make up a fun dad excuse like late-night ice cream and we’ll get them from the airport. I’m not making them rent a car.”
“Hey!” I pinch his side, and he jumps. “I’m not making my parents get a rental car. My dad is just too controlling to let anyone drive him. I’ve learned to let him do his thing because I’ll never win the argument anyway.”
I turn my head toward him, feeling his gaze on me.
“I could kiss you right now,” he whispers, eyeing my lips.
“But you won’t because young eyes could be on us.”
“You might be right.” He grins. “You might be wrong.”
I shrug. “Then do it. Kiss me.”
Nate’s gaze flits over my shoulder toward the driveway then returns to me. “We’ll see. In the meantime, I’ll count your freckles.”
“Eighty-two,” I reply. “I counted them this morning. Eight-five yesterday. I’m losing them in spite of all the sun.”
“You didn’t count your freckles.”
I didn’t, but I like the way his eyes dance with amusement at the tiny prospect that I might not be lying. “Don’t pretend you know m—”
He kisses me. Holy shit! He’s kissing me!
It ends as abruptly as it began. I’m afraid to look behind me.
“Please tell me they didn’t see that.”
He smirks. “Tell me you care.”
I open my mouth to tell him how much I care. Why he should care. And … some other great responses. Nothing comes out.
“When’s the last time you had your PSA checked? Testicles examined? Finger up your rectum? I bet while they’re in the neighborhood they could squeeze you in.”
He wets his lips, making another quick glance over my shoulder. “I’m good on the PSA until I’m fifty. You examined my testicles quite thoroughly last week. As for the finger up my ass—”
I cover his mouth. “Stop! Don’t go there.”
He turns his face to break free from my muzzle, vibrating with laughter.
“When are you leaving? When will I be rid of you?” I narrow my eyes at him.
His laughter fades as his smile simmers into something bittersweet. His gaze stays connected to mine for a few seconds before he redirects it over my shoulder again, but I don’t think he’s tracking the kids, planning his next kiss. It’s different.
A different I feel in my chest.
I’m not supposed to feel Nathaniel Hunt in my chest.
He’s not supposed to take root in my mind.
His touch isn’t allowed to linger on my skin.
Yet, here he is … making a mark that I fear will be difficult, if not impossible, to erase.
“I’ll be gone before you know it. Nothing lasts.”
“Memories last.”
Nate returns his attention to me, a hint of tension in his brow as he gives me several tiny nods. “True. Memories last.”
“We’ve made some …” How do I be sincere without cracking my chest open and handing him my heart like a fool? “Well, we’ve made some fun memories. Unexpected memories. You must feel that a lot. Traveling the world for eight years has to have filled your mind with lasting memories. I’m sure you’ve made so many friends all over the world.”
He nods again. “I have. Some more friendly than others.”
I blush, curling my hair behind my ears. “Why San Diego? I mean, if you’re only exploring one stop in the U.S., how did you decide on San Diego?”
“That was all Morgan. She wrote down three major cities from each state on pieces of paper, put all one hundred and fifty in a hat, and had me draw one. I drew San Diego. So … it’s as simple as fortuity.”
I grin. “Wow. That’s crazy. I’m officially a fan of fortuity.”
His knee nudges mine. “Me too.”
“Can we go inside?” Morgan’s voice, like always, carries a long way as she starts giving Mr. Hans the third degree. “What did they do? Did it hurt? How do things stay in place when the van is moving? Where did they take the blood from?”
Nate stands. “I’d better rescue the poor old guy.”
“Probably.” I squint, shading my eyes with my hand as the three of them walk in this direction.
“Dad! Gabe’s grandma and grandpa are coming tonight. They’re from Montana. I’ve never been to Montana. We should go sometime.”
Nate tugs on her ponytail. “You poor thing. I never take you anywhere.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Fit as a fiddle?” Nate asks Mr. Hans.
His words trip over his half chuckle, half cough. “Good … to go for another twenty thousand miles. How’s your prostate?”
Nate grins at me just before I turn and follow Gabe and Morgan. “Still the size of a walnut, but thanks for asking.”
I snigger without glancing over my shoulder.
“Where are your grandma and grandpa going to sleep? We have two extra bedrooms. They could sleep at our house? Or you could sleep at our house? Dad … can Gabe sleep at our house?”
I jump in and save us all from the madness. “Thanks, Morgan, but they’re sleeping in my bed and I’m sleeping on the sofa.”
Mr. Hans heads into the house while the rest of us hash out sleeping arrangements on the boardwalk between the two houses, the wind whipping my hair in my face.
“Well, you could stay with us. You could sleep with my dad.” She shoots Nate an ornery look, and I die. This girl is too damn smart. Ten going on thirty.
“Uh … that’s weird.” Gabe laughs, kicking at some dried bird poop. “She’d sleep with you because you’re a girl, not your dad.”
Morgan cups her hands at her mouth and leans toward Gabe. He does the typical boy thing and backs away from her advance.
“They like each other,” she whispers loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Okay … let’s go inside, Gabe, and track Grandma and Grandpa on my phone.” I ruffle his hair.
Gabe ignores me and wrinkles his nose at Morgan. “You’re being weird.”
She rolls her eyes before squealing from Nate tossing her over his shoulder. “You are definitely being weird, Squirt! Let’s go get showers. You stink.”
“Stop!” She giggles. “I don’t stink.”
Just before I go in the house, I glance over at Nate opening his screen door and giving me one last glance.
It’s a good glance, the kind that happens in slow motion, or at least that’s how I’ll always remember it.
Fortuity …
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Nathaniel
/>
“Why won’t you let me go over there?” Morgan pesters me as we eat macaroni and cheese with peas and carrots on the deck in our favorite rockers. I had to bear-hug her to keep her from running outside when they arrived.
Narrowing my eyes, I point my fork at her. “You know why.”
“Ugh …” She throws her head back in true Morgan dramatic fashion. “You said we are just people, all connected. You said we make villages … make family wherever we go.”
Valid point.
I did say that many times.
“That is how it is with the rest of the world, but in the United States, family is defined by blood, law, and loyalty.”
“I’m loyal.”
I shake my head. “We haven’t been here long enough to prove loyalty. Therefore you are the snoopy neighbor girl, who has suddenly found her father to be the most boring person in the world, looking for any excuse to be with anyone else but me.”
“You’re so needy.”
“Ouch!” I fake jabbing my fork into my chest. “That was fatal.”
“Whatevs … I’m going to my room.”
“You’ve been spending a lot of time in your room. What do you do up there?”
“Read. Knit. Plan my wedding.” She flings open the door.
“Can’t get married without my blessing.”
“That’s not true,” her voice echoes before the door clicks shut.
My needy self finishes my gourmet meal—not out of a box. Nope. I make macaroni and cheese from scratch. It’s a skill I picked up when we stayed in a tiny German town that didn’t have it in a box. Yes … parts of the world have not experienced the miracle of macaroni and powdered cheese from a box.
When I hear voices next door, I stop my gentle, creaky rocking. Gabe runs down the deck stairs followed by Gracelyn and her parents. Her mom smiles at something Gracelyn says as they both slide their purses over their shoulders in the same casual manner.
She’s a slightly more filled-out version of Gracelyn with a tousled gray and auburn pixie cut, dangling earrings, and red lipstick. The man resting his hand on Gabe’s shoulder looks like a giant in dark trousers and a white button-down. His gray comb-over reveals his hidden dome when the breeze grabs it. Really … he must be at least six-seven. A broad-shouldered man who could be cast for the role of a basketball coach.
Gracelyn does a double take as if she wasn’t expecting me to be sitting so still watching her.
“Off to dinner?” I ask, feeling the need to say something since she’s spotted me.
My question stops everyone. Her mom lifts an eyebrow at her daughter, who can’t keep from smiling at me. Yep, I’m the neighbor who has a thing for your daughter. She’s pretty fucking perfect. I’m not sure her mom reads all of that in my grin, but it’s there. It’s always there.
“Yes. Gabe wants pizza. Um …” Her words falter as her parents eye her.
Of course, they want to know who I am. As the father of a girl, I already know I’d sure as hell want to know why some guy I’d never met was eyeing my daughter like his favorite snack.
I save her because I try to imagine what a guy could do to win me over if Morgan liked him. The answer is nothing, but she’s ten. “Hi. I’m Nathaniel Hunt. My daughter and Gabe have become good friends.” I stand at the edge of the deck and lean on the railing. No need to shake hands and hold them up too long. That’s what Morgan would do. She’d talk them into starvation. Of course, I mean that in the most loving way.
“Yes, uh …” Gracelyn plasters on a cool smile, but her pink cheeks tell the real truth, and her mom’s brow-lifted gaze at her says she knows there’s more to this story too. “Nate, these are my parents, Sharon and Forest.”
“Nice to meet you,” they say in unison.
Sharon clears her throat and eyes me with her daughter’s smile. “Married?”
“Mom!” Gracelyn grits through her teeth.
“Widowed. It’s just me and my daughter.”
“I’m so sorry.” Her smile fades.
I shake my head. “It’s been ten years. But condolences to you for your loss too.”
A small smile reappears along her red lips, but it’s not the same one. It’s sad. It’s … life. “Thank you.”
“I’m hungry,” Gabe sighs.
Forest grips his shoulders. “Then let’s get you fed.”
“Enjoy your dinner.” I smile.
Gracelyn’s parents follow Gabe to the front of the house, and she drags behind them, holding my gaze for a few extra seconds.
I wink and she grins a little more before looking forward. That woman … she makes every day a little better. I can’t really explain it. Jenna had that same magic, so did Daisy. And of course … no one has it quite like Morgan.
Instead of thinking how it will feel to leave Gracelyn, I sit down in my rocker and give thanks to whatever power has granted me the gift of sharing parts of my life with so many great women.
*
“Slip on your shoes.” I slide my wallet into my front pocket and retrieve the key fob from the counter.
Morgan glances up from her beanbag and her knitting. “It’s almost my bedtime. Where are we going?”
“It’s a holiday week. I feel like ice cream.”
Her eyes widen, jaw unhinging. “Are you serious?”
“I could tell you were a little envious of Gabe’s grandparents coming for the Fourth, so I thought ice cream might make things better.”
She caps her needles and jumps up. “Ice cream makes everything better.”
“Oh!” I grunt when she hugs me so hard I take a few steps back.
“Thank you for being the best dad ever.”
I hug her. “You’re wrong. My little girl … who is trying way too hard to become a woman … she makes everything okay.”
We get ice cream. We make a mess of it. We laugh.
I take all that she’ll give me. The future holds plenty of regimen, unbendable schedules, and homework. Right now, ice cream makes sense.
“What is this? Where are we?” Morgan asks, sitting up straighter.
“It’s the airport. I have to grab something.”
“What do you grab from an airport?”
I shoot her a quick sideways glance. “You’ll see.”
“Just tell me.”
“Just wait.” I laugh.
“I can’t wait.”
“You can.”
“Daaad!”
“Mooorgan!”
She crosses her arms over her chest and grumbles something I can’t understand.
We park and go inside. “Have a seat.” I nod beside me as I sit on a bench by the arrivals.
“What are we doing? Is this another treasure hunt?”
I’m kind of awesome at setting up treasure hunts for her. “Not tonight.”
“Then what?”
“Then patience.”
She leans her head on my arm. Ten minutes later, just as she starts to nod off, I nudge her. “Who’s that? They look familiar.”
Sitting up and yawning, she rubs her eyes. “Who?”
I point.
“Oh my god …” she whispers.
I try to remain calm, but it’s been eight years since I’ve seen my parents in person.
“That’s … that’s my grandma and grandpa.”
Mom cries as soon as she spies us on the bench. I swear my dad has tears in his eyes too. Me? Yeah, I’m fighting it too.
“My babies …” Mom drops the handle to her suitcase and holds out her arms.
“Grandma!” Morgan runs to her.
I follow, quickly finding my dad’s embrace. We’ve talked and video chatted. It’s not the same.
“Grandpa!” Morgan pulls away from my mom and we swap.
“My boy,” she whispers past the emotion in her throat.
“Missed you guys.” I let her hug me a little longer before pulling back. “I’m so glad you agreed to come.”
“I can’t believe you did this!” Morgan is
fully awake now.
I’m not sure we’ll get her settled down to sleep for days.
“You guys are better than ice cream.” She presses her hands to her face like she still can’t believe it.
They laugh as I grab mom’s suitcase and lead everyone to the exit.
“I can’t wait to show you our house. And you’re going to love Gabe. He’s the neighbor I told you about. And Mr. Hans is our landlord. He took me to Disneyland, which is the happiest place on Earth. And …” She doesn’t stop talking until we make it home. Even then, she takes a breath and keeps going.
Eventually, I get her to bed and my parents settled into a guest room. They’re on a different time zone, so I don’t keep them up any later talking.
The next morning, I get up early for my jog. When I return, everyone is up and gathered in my kitchen. Everyone.
“Morning. Morgan invited us all for breakfast. Hope that’s okay?” Mr. Hans gives me a wink from the kitchen table where he’s drinking coffee with my dad and Gracelyn’s dad. My mom, Gracelyn, and her mom are making eggs, sausages, and pancakes. The culprit and her sidekick are in the living room watching television.
“Wow … so … everyone’s met, I assume.”
Gracelyn glances over her shoulder after flipping a few pancakes on a griddle I didn’t know we had and smirks. “It’s all your daughter. She said something about a village, but I didn’t catch all of it.”
Feeling too sweaty and probably too smelly to join the fun, I jab my thumb toward the stairs. “Well, I’m going to grab a quick shower.”
I don’t linger in the shower with a house full of guests downstairs. When I get out, I tie the towel around my waist, brush my teeth, and roll on some deodorant.
“I’m going to miss that body.”
I glance up, a little startled by the voice and smirk from my favorite neighbor sitting on my bed, looking pretty fucking spectacular in her yellow sundress, glossed lips, and bare feet dangling off the side.
“This body is going to miss you looking at it.”
“Just came up here to let you know breakfast is done, and if you don’t hurry up, Gabe will eat all the pancakes.”
“Then I’d better hurry up.”
Her gaze makes a slow trip up my chest, her tongue wetting her lips as she nods. “Yeah … better.”
