Uncomplicated Choices

by Cara Dee

  "You talk silly!" Lyn laughed.

  "He's always silly," Haley giggled. In an attempt to reach out and hug my arm, she almost fell off the chair she was standing on. As their butler, I was quick to steady her. I took my job seriously. "Oops."

  "As long as it's you saying it and not a doctor, I'm good." I kissed her flour-dusted cheek. "Are these works of art ready to go in the oven?"

  They nodded furiously, and I told them to prepare for bath time so I could get the cinnamon rolls ready-ready for the oven. They were buttery, cinnamony, and sugary, but the glaze had been dumped in the middle of the pan. Poor outsider rolls wanted to get glazed, too.

  So do I, for the record.

  *

  "Girls, give me a peep so I know you haven't gone under!" I called from the kitchen.

  The rolls were done, and the scent made my mouth water as I took them out of the oven.

  I got a giggled double "Peep!" from Haley and Lyn, which was always a relief.

  "It's only a bathtub, Uncle Casey!" Lyn felt the need to point out.

  "You can drown on land, hon." I let the pan sit on the stove to cool some, and then I went to the bathroom and took a seat on the closed toilet lid.

  Lyn was full of skepticism and suds. She was rocking the best bubble beard. "That’s not true."

  "Is, too." I retrieved my phone again to have something to do. "Drowning isn't about your body being underwater. It's about your lungs filling with water. So technically, you can drown in a puddle. All you have to do is inhale it—breathe it in."

  Well, Lyn's mind was blown.

  Haley didn’t quite get it yet.

  "Make sure to tell Mommy and Daddy that I teach you all kinds of good stuff," I told Lyn, and she grinned and nodded. "Next week: why exercise is bad for you."

  My joke died. All they heard was "next week," and so they squealed out, "Disneyland!"

  Haters.

  I returned my attention to my phone instead. Most of the comments on my posts were positive, if not all about others who could relate. The anon trolls existed too, though they were luckily few and far in between. There were the hobby shrinks who had solutions to everything. There was the group of women and men letting me know they would date me. Thanks, guys. Some other anonymous comments…

  Anonymous replied: As someone who was called elusive recently, I can say it's overrated. Keep talking. It's very refreshing. :.

  I mean… But no. In the seven seas of millions of blogs, one didn’t simply stumble upon mine. The odds of winning the lottery were better. That comment couldn’t belong to Elusive Ellis.

  *

  The weekend passed too quickly, and when Monday rolled around, I took the day off to be a good father and uncle—and a horrible friend.

  I arrived with Haley and Lyn at Lincoln's doorstep in the early afternoon. I had Haley's luggage because their hands were full. I'd found these cute, thirty-five-ounce duffel bags at the store—on sale, so I couldn’t resist—in pink, transparent plastic.

  Lincoln opened the door, his forehead creasing at the sight of the girls. Or rather, the duffels. And because the bags were transparent, he could see I'd filled them to the brim with candy.

  "Hi, Daddy!" Lyn grinned. "Look what we got!"

  "Uh…hey, baby girl." Lincoln lifted his gaze from a six-year-old to a thirty-year-old. "The red-eye with two kids on a sugar high. Thank you."

  "Finally, some recognition. You're welcome." I handed over Haley's luggage to him and entered the house. "You haven't asked me to water any plants and bring in the mail. Should I be offended?"

  "The cleaning service will do that." Lincoln set down Haley's bag next to three other bags in the hallway. "Seriously, Kid. They'll inhale that shit before we even get to Seattle."

  That was the point. Kinda hard to get it past security. "I hope they don't throw up on the plane."

  Unfortunately, nothing could ruin Lincoln's travel mood. If there was one thing that rivaled his passion for music, it was whisking away his family on trips. He smirked and shook his head, then focused on the girls. He dutifully complimented their costumes that they demanded to travel in, and he took the "We're princes now" talk like a champ.

  "Auntie Ade!" Haley ran over to the stairs as Adeline descended them. "Daddy gave us vacation candy!"

  "Oh, wow. Yeah, I'd say he gave you a lot." She sent me a playful scowl before kneeling down at Haley's level. "You know the rule here, though. We eat our veggies before we get to the candy. And luckily for us, we have time to eat something before we go. Isn't that awesome?"

  Oh God, she was a skilled manipulator. Haley and Lyn actually cheered.

  Now they'd be full of veggies on the way to the airport.

  "Fuck, I love you, tiny dancer." Lincoln smiled at Adeline.

  She blew him a kiss, and when she passed me on the way to the kitchen, she whispered, "Checkmate."

  Witch.

  While she whipped up some leftover Alfredo with pasta and zoodles, I did everything in the book to keep from thinking about being away from Haley for three weeks. Lincoln asked about the house, so that worked as a decent distraction for a bit.

  "Everything packed up yet?" he wondered. "You haven't asked us to help out. Should we be offended?"

  "You're hilarious," I deadpanned. "No, I got an extra week, so I haven't even started." I was handing over the keys in six days. Then I had two weeks of crashing here while our shit was at my work. Why waste the storage space?

  Our new house was bigger. No more sleeping on a pullout for me. I'd have my own bedroom.

  "You know all this could've been avoided if you'd just let me buy you a house after college."

  I only gave him a look. After my parents disowned me because their sweet, quiet geek had turned into a criminal, I spent my prison sentence getting a rude fucking awakening. Immediately after, Lincoln took over. He and Adeline put me through college and gave me a home, but I put my foot down after that. He made it possible for me to bounce back, and since then, I'd made my own way. Slowly but surely.

  *

  Welp. I'd made it all day without shedding a tear, but I wasn’t going to lie. When I went to bed that night, my eyes watered. Had I packed everything for her? What if she got homesick? It was one thing that I hadn't been away from her that long before; a whole other that she hadn't been away from me. She didn’t cope the way adults did, such as get hammered and have one-night stands you regretted the morning after.

  It was only a matter of time.

  "Blah. Cover up the mush." I threw aside the covers and sat up, reaching for my phone. In times like these, when I felt weak, I could count on humor. With my app ready, I wrote a short blog post.

  No one would know I felt like crying.

  It's Been Too Long, My Dear

  Do you still remember me? The memory of your sweet giggles grows fainter and fainter in my mind. Soon, I fear I'll forget your voice. This journey without you has been torture. Do you miss me like I miss you? I doubt that's possible. The most vivid memory I have would be of your bright smile as you hugged me so tight, then your soft voice saying "I'll miss you, Daddy!" It's been too long, my dear. It's been… God, eleven hours and counting.

  #DaughterOnVacationWithoutMe

  —Casey

  Not five minutes had passed before the first handful of comments appeared, and I cocked my head at the anonymous one.

  Anonymous replied: The love you have for her is extraordinary. :.

  That weird sign afterward… A colon and a period. I'd received a comment like that before. Whoever it was, they subscribed to my posts. Probably. Unless they'd happened to check out the blog right after I updated.

  *

  "We're here, Daddy! Gotta go, love you, bye!"

  "Gee," I muttered, trapping the phone between my shoulder and cheek. I guess she wasn’t missing me much. I figured after three days she'd be going bananas. Then again, they'd spent the first two days in a rural part of France where they visited that school. Now, as I was on my way to
work, they were arriving for their evening check-in at some fancy Disneyland hotel.

  "You there, Kid?" Lincoln's voice filtered through the phone.

  "Yup. How's everything?" I made a turn onto a dirt road in the forest district of Westslope where Henry was waiting for me. He was old-school, not much of a conversationalist, but he was a hell of a landscape designer. Born with green thumbs and a passion for hydrogeology.

  "I'm tired as fuck," Lincoln yawned. "What're you up to—I got that, love. You take the girls."

  "Just got to work," I answered, killing the engine. "Nothing's new here—oh, other than I got the park project." I was admittedly stoked as hell about that.

  "That's fucking awesome. When does it start?"

  "Presenting the 3D model in October," I answered. "You guys should go get settled in. We can talk later."

  "Yeah, okay. Proud of you, though—what?" Now he was shouting. Ade spoke in the background. "Uh, okay. I'm supposed to tell you your blog post on—Jesus, whatever-the-fuck—she likes it. No, baby girl, go with Mommy. She'll help you." He blew out a heavy breath, and I chuckled. "What is it about that goddamn blogging of yours? I keep hearing about it. Ellis asked for the address just the other day." Oh, really. "I thought it was single-life ranting."

  "You make it sound so cool," I said flatly. "Time to go, Daddy rock star. Buy yourself a crown. I'm gonna tell a client he should have an irrigation system for his little fish farm."

  "That word," he bitched and hung up.

  Irrigation, meet irritation.

  I grinned and stared at my screen. So Ellis had gone behind my back to find out my blog address. He was elusive. Albeit poor at covering up his tracks.

  I was gonna have fun with this.

  Chapter 4

  I didn’t particularly want to go home after work, so I took myself out for dinner. I picked up a grilled salmon sandwich, some fries, and a Pepsi, then drove down to the marina. Finding a sunny spot, I unzipped my coveralls and tied the arms around my waist. It was T-shirt weather today, much appreciated.

  "Don't you fucking dare." I eyed a seagull skipping past my bench, obviously in the mood for my sandwich. "Can't handle the competition by the fishing boats, huh? Loser."

  Keeping my fries close and my Pepsi closer, I bit into my sandwich and pulled out my work phone. My agenda was twofold: mess with Ellis, and text the guy who'd asked for my number through Adrian.

  Ellis came first.

  Hi. :.

  I snickered. I wasn’t sure he had my personal cell, but I knew for certain he didn’t have my work number. There was no reason for him to.

  The other guy was next.

  Hey, this is Casey. You asked Adrian about me.

  Ellis responded quickly.

  Who is this?

  I chewed around a mouthful of food, debating with myself. I wasn’t going to drag this out because when push came to shove, I wanted to get to know him better. But first…

  I'm me. Call me elusive, but I prefer to go nameless. :.

  Checking the time, I reckoned he'd be on his way home from work soon, and—shit. I jumped a little, surprised to see his number lighting up on the screen. Who called these days? This was a texting world.

  "Hello?" I took a quick sip of my pop.

  "Casey." Damn. Why did his voice and the way he said my name bring such a smile to my face? It was his rueful amusement, the warmth of his voice, and the fact that he was fucking caught.

  "Who's Casey?" I chuckled.

  He sighed. "All right, you got me. Who ratted me out? Lincoln or Adeline?"

  "I can't snitch. It wouldn’t be right. Besides, I have to give you some shit."

  "What on earth for? Last time I checked, reading someone's blog wasn’t a criminal offense."

  "You should check again." I stuck a couple fries into my mouth. "I haven't even read your charges yet, though. It's not the blog."

  "Then what is it?"

  Wasn’t it obvious? "Come on, Ellis. You can't skip out on family dinners and be all secretive about yourself, then read my personal stuff on the sly and not expect me to object."

  There was a pause, and I was pretty sure I heard the telltale beep of a car alarm being switched off. Next came the opening and closing of a car door. "Fair, I suppose. Should I get myself a lawyer, then?"

  "Or you can come to the marina and buy me dessert." I figured that was a good deal. "My dinner's almost gone."

  He went quiet again. I wasn’t going to budge. I agreed with Lincoln; Ellis wasn’t doing all right, and as his family—pseudo or not—wasn’t it our duty to dig our claws into him and make him come out of hiding?

  "Just dessert?"

  I smashed my lips together. Had this man been single and into other men, it would've been the perfect opening for a dirty pun. "No, Elusive Ellis," I replied slowly, "your participation in some chatting is required. I'm on the boardwalk, and you have ten minutes, sir."

  *

  Ten minutes later, he was walking toward me. Fresh out of work, he still managed to look drop-dead gorgeous. He made suits sexier.

  "You are a demanding young man, aren't you?" He sat down next to me on the bench and squinted a little for the sun. "What kind of dessert do you want?"

  I held out a box of Tic-Tacs. "You're too late. I satisfied my sweet tooth already."

  "I wouldn’t call that dessert." With a shake of his head, he surveyed the marina and peered over at the boats. "Which one is Lincoln's—ah, never mind." Yeah, Lincoln's yacht was hard to miss.

  Supposedly called a baby in the yacht world, it was nevertheless an impressive sixty feet long, had two decks, a kitchen, two dining areas, three bathrooms, three bedrooms, and two sundecks. Along the side of the white, sleek, floating castle, "Tiny Dancer" was written in an elegant font, and the boat stuck out like a sore thumb among modest sailboats, fishing boats, and bow riders.

  It was a new purchase.

  Adeline had nearly lost her shit, first in the angry way because of the price tag, then in the melty way because her rock star named a boat after her.

  I emptied the other half of my Tic-Tacs in my mouth. "Any plans this weekend?"

  "I'm a married man. I never have plans."

  "Wow," I mouthed to myself, a couple mints falling out. The seagull had now been served dinner. "Be sure to let happily married men know that."

  "Good point." He dipped his chin.

  "And I thought you were separated."

  "I am, technically. Marilyn's staying with her sister."

  I'd never understood separations. Sure, if the next step was divorce, it made sense. Ellis and his wife went to couple's therapy, though. "What are your restrictions as a separated man?" I wondered. The man didn’t even wear a ring anymore. "I mean, can I take you out and get you laid? Or maybe it's just like marriage, but without the sex."

  Ellis turned to me with a frown. "There's supposed to be sex in marriage?" He was kind of funny, in that highly depressing way. "No, she made it clear that she wanted to see what's out there." He was unimpressed by that.

  I nodded slowly. "Well, I'm sold. I can't wait to get married." Dammit, this wasn’t the time to crack jokes. I rubbed the back of my neck. "Can I ask something?"

  He made a vague go-ahead gesture.

  I cleared my throat. "The counseling and the dinner dates… Are you making a genuine effort to reconcile with your wife, or are you going through the motions?"

  Ellis averted his eyes and frowned at the ground as he loosened his tie. "I think… I think in order to answer that, I need alcohol."

  If a few beers were what it took for him to open up, then beer we were going to have. "Wanna go over there?" I nodded at the row of low buildings that was parallel with the parking lot before the boardwalk began. The dinner rush hadn't started yet, so we could get a table outside at one of the small seafood restaurants.

  "Hell, why not," he replied. With such enthusiasm.

  I threw away my trash from my early-bird dinner on the way, and then we found ours
elves at a little round table with two menus. The sun was dipping lower, giving the sky an orange, pinkish glow. We ordered a pitcher of beer and a snack plate with fried halibut pops, chips, potato skins, and lime aioli. I didn’t think he'd had dinner yet, so he better eat most of it.

  "I like this," I confessed. "Seeing you more often, I mean. Meeting up like this for drinks."

  The crease between his brows smoothed out marginally, and he managed a faint smile. "Your honesty is something else, Casey. You speak so easily."

  "Because I'm a talker," I said with a smirk.

  "It's more than that." He shook his head. "You'd be surprised how difficult the simple truths can become."

  I understood him, but for me it was different. It was a coping mechanism of sorts. Blurt out what was on my mind right away, and if it wasn’t appreciated, they could move on. Eventually, people did leave, and I just wanted to make sure I got an honest word in edgewise before we parted ways. That way, I would always know I'd shown nothing but myself.

  As painful as it was, I wanted to be rejected for me, not due to some ridiculous miscommunication or misunderstanding that would haunt me forever.

  "But then, you hide other things." He smirked, and then our beer arrived.

  The snacks were gonna be another ten minutes, not that I cared. I wanted to know what Ellis meant by that. I hid things? I think not. I hid nothing.

  "Anyway, I was going to explain myself," he went on, much to my frustration. I didn’t hide anything! "To make you understand the effort versus going through the motions, I have to go back a bit. You know how we hear people say marriage is hard?"

  I furrowed my brow and nodded once. I don't hide anything.

  "It hasn't been for me," he admitted. "It's been effortless since day one, and it's hit me lately that it's because we never aimed particularly high. We slipped into the safe lane and found the illusion of happiness in contentment and stability. Our careers are demanding enough. We didn’t need our marriage to be a struggle, too."

  I pinched my lips, thinking of couples who struggled, yet were happier. Lincoln and Ade could have fights that were one argument away from turning violent. They fought as passionately as they loved because the end goal was always the same—to fix the issue and grow stronger.