A Shattered Moment

by Tiffany King

  “Again with the adorable. Keep it up and I’m going to take my adorable cane and shove it somewhere.”

  “Damn,” Chad said, mockingly covering his ass with his hand.

  Bentley finished up the first-aid service by taking care of my hands, and we decided to relax and watch TV. After fighting over the remote, he and Chad finally settled on an old science fiction movie about aliens. I didn’t know how to break it to them that I didn’t like science fiction, but just like Ferris Bueller, they claimed it was a classic, so I kept my mouth closed and resigned myself to a two-hour torture fest. If all else failed, I could take a nap or play on my phone.

  As it turned out, the movie wasn’t all that bad. It was intense and had me gripping Bentley’s knee more times than I should have, not to mention making me jump several times.

  Chad had a bad habit of talking throughout the movie. Bentley shushed him on more than one occasion, telling him he was ruining the movie for me, but I didn’t mind. It was a bittersweet moment. In a way, Chad reminded me of Dan. As he talked, it made me feel at peace. It was nice to be included and not treated like the victim.

  By the time the movie ended, I was yawning. It was later than I thought and I was ready to crawl into bed. Bentley offered me the use of his bed, claiming he could take the couch, but I declined the tempting offer. I had an early class and I wasn’t ready for Bentley to see what I looked like in the morning.

  Saying a sleepy good night to Chad, I burrowed back in Bentley’s arms as he carried me from the apartment and down the stairs. He was spoiling me and I should have protested, but his arms felt so good. I almost dozed off by the time we reached the car. I yawned big, apologizing.

  “You could have stayed at my apartment,” he said, reaching over to grab my hand as we drove.

  “Too soon,” I answered honestly as he pulled in front of my dorm building.

  “I told you I would have slept on the couch.”

  “I know. It just feels too soon for that. It’s really only been a couple weeks that we’ve known each other. We have to take it slow,” I said, flushing when I remembered the scene from his apartment earlier. That definitely hadn’t been slow. I wondered if he would call me on it. Call me a tease. It’s not like I had any real experience with guys other than Zach, but I knew no one liked to feel like they were being led on.

  “I can do slow.” He climbed from the car to help me out, but I refused to let him carry me into the building. It was late, but there was no telling who would still be sitting in the common room inside. There was no way I was going to open that can of worms.

  Our progress was annoyingly slow. I hadn’t noticed in all the time sitting on Bentley’s couch, but now that I was walking around, I was pretty sore from my fall earlier. My movements were a mix of stiff hobbling and shuffling.

  “I had fun tonight,” I said when we finally reached the entrance.

  “You sure? You look like you’re in pain just walking around.”

  “Well, I’m not going to lie. I’m a bit sore, but the game was fun and the after was, uh—”

  “Better than a party?” he offered, placing his hands on my hips.

  “Definitely better.” I dragged my bottom lip into my mouth, which had become a nervous habit anytime we were this close.

  “You know, when you do that, it makes the whole going slow thing tougher.” His lips left a hot trail across my cheek. I didn’t need to ask what he was talking about. It was pretty clear when his mouth found my bottom lip and dragged it in. He sucked on it for a moment before moving to the rest of my mouth.

  I clenched his shirt tightly into my fists, holding on as my head swam. Pressing myself as close to him as our standing positions would allow, I wished with everything inside me that I would have taken him up on his offer to stay over. Even though it was my idea, taking it slow was as hard for me as it was for him.

  He pulled his lips from mine and gazed down at me. “Kissing is allowed, though, right?”

  I gave a shaky laugh before answering. “Definitely,” I said, reaching for the handle of the door behind me. Pulling it open, I stepped backward into the building.

  “Can we meet for lunch tomorrow?” he asked before I could disappear into the building.

  “I have class until twelve thirty, and my class after that starts at two.”

  “That’s fine. We can meet between your classes,” he said, naming a central location for us to meet up.

  I agreed before letting the door swing closed behind me. Despite being dead on my feet, and the fact that my knees were currently cussing me out, a goofy smile spread across my face as I shuffled to my room. Tracey would have said I was falling for his “smexy” charms if she was still alive, but she would have liked him. I wish she could have met him. It was at times like this that I missed her the most. My smile slipped for a moment as the familiar sense of loneliness and loss threatened to take hold. Bentley’s image came to mind, reminding me I was no longer completely alone.

  Reaching my room, my smile returned. Maybe not as wide as before, but it was there. I was no longer alone.

  “Where have you been, young lady?” Trina teased as I pushed our dorm room door open. “Oh, Lord. Judging by that sex kitten grin on your face, you were doing something. Do tell.” She tossed the book she was reading to the side. “And what, for God’s sake, are you wearing?”

  My smile widened even farther as I sat down on my bed. I was not alone at all. I hugged my pillow to my chest as I filled Trina in on my evening. It had been so long since I had talked boys with anyone. It was well after two in the morning by the time I finished filling her in.

  • • •

  The next few weeks passed in a happy blur as my new friends showed me what I had been missing keeping myself closed off for the last year and a half. Bentley and I spent every day together that he wasn’t working or we weren’t in classes. We ate together, studied together, and spent a lot of time perfecting our kissing skills. Taking it slow had become an exercise of pure endurance for both of us. His roommates were our only saving grace. Michael had broken up with his girlfriend, so he was at the apartment as much as Chad. My feelings for Bentley had exceeded what I’d never thought was possible. Thoughts of him consumed me whenever we were apart.

  Trina told me it was normal to feel like that. She claimed that’s what love did to a person. I halfheartedly argued that I wasn’t in love. She razzed me about it, but didn’t press me. That was one of the things I liked the most about her. I discovered she was a great friend to have. She still hung out with her old friends and went to parties, but we had made it past our rocky beginning.

  I packed my bags into my small VW Bug, preparing to head home for Thanksgiving break. It had been more than a month since I’d seen Mom and Dad, and I missed them. I was excited to finally have something to talk about other than my classes or the case. Bentley planned on driving over on Thanksgiving to meet them and to have dessert. Mom had mentioned on the phone that we would be celebrating Thanksgiving by ourselves this year without anyone else over. We used to spend Thanksgiving with Tracey’s family until her dad died years ago. After the accident, Patricia and the boys spent Thanksgiving last year by themselves. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved when Mom told me Patricia had decided to take the twins to see their grandparents in Ohio this year. Things would be more bearable.

  I pulled into our driveway less than an hour later. Sitting behind the wheel, I studied my childhood home, which was filled with so many memories. The front yard was shaded by the big oak tree that Jessica had fallen from when she and Dan had decided to see who could get to the highest branches first. Jessica broke her arm in two places, but afterward wore her cast like a badge of honor, claiming she had made it to the top first.

  Pulling my duffel bag from the backseat, I headed toward the front door, vowing not to let sad memories bog me down this time. I breathed in deeply when I opened the door, inhaling the intoxicating smell of Thanksgiving. It was a mixture of pump
kin, spices, cookies, and Dad’s famous Chex Mix, which he had been making for as long as I could remember. This was the essence of the holiday season for me.

  “I’m home,” I called out, dropping my bag on the white bench by the front door.

  “Hey, sweetie.” Dad greeted me, coming around the long counter that separated the kitchen from the large great room, which was the “heart of the house,” as he liked to put it. He wiped his hands on his apron, which read: The only thing better than a bottle of wine in the kitchen is a bottle of wine in the hand.

  “Hey, Daddy,” I said, giving him a big hug.

  He returned the hug and then placed his hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length. “Something’s different about you,” he observed.

  “What?” I asked, ducking my head. Could he see the difference that I had begun to see in myself over the last couple weeks? When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t cringe at my reflection anymore. The severe straight line that my lips normally wore was gone, along with the somber look that never seemed to leave my eyes.

  He tilted my chin as he took the time to study my face. “You look happy,” he said, sounding hopeful. “Are you happy, sweet pea?”

  “I am, Daddy.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned. I guess talking us into letting you live on campus was a good thing, after all. I’m not going to lie, sweet pea. Your mother and I have been worried about you. It seemed like you were struggling to find your footing at first.”

  “It was tougher than I thought it was going to be at first,” I admitted, sitting on the leather couch. “But I’m making it now.”

  “Finding your groove,” Dad said, sitting on the couch next to me and patting my knee.

  “Groove? Dad, no one says that. You’re showing your age.”

  “What are you talking about? Groove is classic. Come help your old man in the kitchen,” he said, standing up. “I have another batch of Chex Mix in the oven.”

  seventeen

  Bentley

  “Bentley, your mom tells me you met a girl,” Aunt Judy greeted me loudly. I had just stepped into the foyer of her Victorian house, juggling the turkey Dad had deep-fried that morning. Everyone standing within earshot turned to look at me.

  “You did, huh, Mom?” I called over my shoulder. I knew I should have waited until after Thanksgiving to tell her about Mac. I had just told her that morning. Knowing my mom, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d texted it to Aunt Judy during the drive over. No doubt by now the entire family knew.

  “What? You didn’t say it was a secret,” she reasoned, scooting past me with her arms full of her legendary sweet potato casserole.

  “I assumed you wouldn’t feel the need to blab it everywhere.”

  “You know what they say when you assume,” Dad chimed in, clapping me on the back as we entered the dining room together.

  “No, dear. What do they say?” Gran asked, poking her head out of the kitchen.

  “Um, that it’s wrong,” Dad answered lamely.

  “That’s what I thought,” Gran said, winking at me.

  I grinned back. Dad may be in his fifties, but Gran could revert him back to being a kid with a look. She appeared frail, but Gran was all steel beneath her papery skin.

  “So, tell us about your girl,” Gran said, placing a bowl of corn on the large dining room table. Mom and Aunt Judy chuckled at her question. They were relentless.

  “Pass. I see you found your spot, Allie,” I said to my sister, who as usual, sat in the corner messing with her phone and choosing not to participate in any sort of conversation. Not that she was shy or anything. Allie was a bit of an emo chick that spent her time maintaining her fifteen-year-old social status. The only time she would say anything was to tell us how clueless we were. Like she and her friends were the only enlightened people in existence. In all likelihood she was currently posting how lame Thanksgiving was.

  “Why fight it, man? You know with this family it’s inevitable that all the details come out. I was convinced they bugged my car when I was dating Devyn,” my cousin Grant added, smiling at his bride of five months.

  “That’s nothing. I swear Mom followed Chris and me to the movies a couple times,” Hannah, my other cousin, chimed in.

  “I did not,” Aunt Judy denied adamantly. Her denial lost some of its effect when she shot Mom a guilty look. “Let’s say hypothetically I did. It’s not like it scared Chris off,” she said, smiling at Hannah’s fiancé across the table.

  “Maybe I want my love life to be private,” I protested, claiming my seat as Gran and Mom carried the last serving dishes to the overflowing table.

  “Better start looking for a new family,” Gran said, sitting across from me.

  “Gran, I’m hurt. You’d throw your favorite grandchild out of the family just because he wants to keep a few things private?” I asked, clutching my heart dramatically.

  “Psh,” Allie snorted without looking up from her phone.

  “Something to add, Allie?” I asked to mess with her.

  “Fine, favorite grandson.” Allie chose not to respond further.

  “You wish,” Grant said. “I’m her favorite, hands down. Especially once she hears our news.” He reached over to pat Devyn’s flat stomach with a wide grin on his face.

  The table silenced at his words. The spoon of green bean casserole Aunt Judy had been about to dump on her plate fell to the tablecloth as she gaped at Grant. My uncle Bob was the first to recover as he scooted his chair backward and pulled a beaming Devyn to her feet. Though the dining room table dominated the room, he still managed to swing her around without knocking anything over.

  “A baby?” Aunt Judy whispered, covering her mouth as tears filled her eyes. She rose to her feet and gave Grant, who had also stood, a bone-crushing hug.

  “You owe me,” Grant mouthed over Aunt Judy’s shoulder.

  Dinner was momentarily forgotten as everyone took turns hugging and congratulating the happy couple. The octave level in the room reached an all-time high as everyone chattered excitedly about due dates and baby showers. Baby talk dominated the dinner conversation, saving me from being in the line of fire. Grant was right. I owed him big time. Maybe a case of beer on his doorstep. Hell, I’d even add a pink and blue bow on it.

  After dinner, the women in the family were still talking about the baby when I called out my good-byes and scooted toward the front door. Dad gave me a knowing wave and returned his attention to the football game.

  Stepping outside, I felt triumphant as I headed toward my car. I had made it out by the skin of my teeth. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to talk about Mac. Hell, my roommates had gotten their share. So much so that Chad and Michael had written pussy-whipped on our bathroom mirror with toothpaste the other day. I’d left it up, too happy to care.

  Talking with my family about Mac was a different story. Mom and Aunt Judy had a tendency not to give up until they knew everything. My relationship with Mac was too new to be analyzed with a fine-tooth comb. I didn’t want them to point out any possible flaws or make me second-guess anything. Not that they were cruel; they just felt it was their job to approve of who we dated. Even though I was twenty-two years old, they still treated me like I was a pimply-faced teenager on some things.

  Backing out of the driveway, I turned on my GPS, which I had already entered Mac’s address into. She lived about twenty-six miles away. With traffic relatively light because of the holiday, I made it there in just less than thirty minutes.

  I climbed from my car after parking behind Mac’s VW Bug. Before even getting my hand raised to knock, the door swung open, revealing a stressed-looking Mac.

  “Are you ready for an inquisition?”

  I stifled a groan. Obviously I hadn’t gotten off scot-free. I smiled reassuringly and reached for her hand as she closed the door behind me. Let the grilling begin.

  eighteen

  Mac

  Inviting Bentley over for dessert had been a mistake. To say Mom and D
ad were thrilled that I’d met someone was putting it mildly. After several refused setup attempts over the summer with sons of different coworkers, Mom had given up. I didn’t and wouldn’t apologize for my attitude. She should have known better than to push me into dating when I wasn’t ready.

  Guiding Bentley to the family room, I felt bad for the onslaught of questions my mom was sure to lay on him. If I really cared about Bentley, I would have turned him around and urged him to make a run for it. My only hope was that Dad would interject, add a little humor, and change the subject so everyone was more comfortable. That was what he did. He was the calm in the storm.

  • • •

  graduation night 2013

  “So, what do you think about joining the adult world?” Kat’s dad, Dave, asked as we all sat down at one long table in the restaurant. Jessica stifled a snort. Dave was famous for asking random philosophical questions.

  “Daddy, seriously?” Kat said, rolling her eyes. She implored him to stop, looking to her mom for help.

  “It’s a fair question,” her mom said, shrugging her shoulders.

  Zach, the diplomat in our group, took a stab at answering. “Well, sir, it feels pretty good.”

  “In what sense?” Dave asked, cutting a piece of bread from one of the four loaves the waitress had just set down.

  Jessica kicked me under the table to get my attention. We exchanged amused looks as Kat groaned. “Shoot me now,” she muttered to Dan under her breath.

  I disguised my snicker with a cough as my dad patted Dave on the back. “Come on, Dave. Maybe we should give the kids one more night before we officially call them adults. Let’s put off the roast for another day,” he said in his normal jovial manner.

  Dad was always a go-with-the-flow type of guy. “Why worry about today when tomorrow is another day?” was his motto. His easy breezy spirit would have driven many women nuts, but Mom took his attitude in stride. She was the more analytical and practical one in our household. She took charge of the finances, making sure the bills were paid and money for retirement and my education were diligently put aside each month. Dad often joked that he would have to die first because he would be lost without her around. Dad was the dreamer, and she was the planner. She liked to say he was the yin to her yang.