by L. B. Dunbar
Sadie shrugs. If she wants to escape him by running up these steps, she’s going to have to climb over him because he doesn’t look like he’s moving anytime soon.
“Did you get in trouble?” He’s keeping his eyes on Sadie although she isn’t meeting his. Sadie shrugs again. Billy waits out the silence, and Sadie finally speaks.
“What’s it matter?”
“Sadie,” I hiss, rolling my eyes to the heavens.
“I got in trouble a lot when I was in school. Whaddya do?”
“Why is it that I did something?”
Billy chuckles. “Yeah, it was never my fault either.”
I fight the smile wanting to form on my lips. He’s sweet with her and looks kind of cute sitting on my steps, fidgeting with his fingers on his thighs.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened anyway?”
I’m expecting Sadie to snap at him, give him another snarky comment, but to my surprise, she doesn’t. She explains.
“Heather told me I look like Violet from The Incredibles and I should disappear like her.”
Billy nods. “Heather? As in we only wear pink on Wednesdays?” I think he’s mixing up his chick flicks, but I’m impressed he even knows the comment. “And what did you say?”
“I told her she dressed like a slut and maybe she should go fuck herself.”
Oh, my God. “Sadie!” I hadn’t gotten all those details from the principal.
Billy chuckles, and I try to spear him with my ire, but he lowers his eyes to the ground and slips his elbows to his thighs. Why is this such a sexy pose for a man? And why can’t I hold my anger at him?
“Well, maybe she is one.”
“William!” I shriek. This isn’t a joke, and it isn’t appropriate.
“Heather who?” he asks Sadie, nodding as if trying to suppress his laughter.
“Heather Quinton.”
Billy sits up straighter, fighting back another chuckle. “Well, see, the apple might not fall far from the tree.”
“William,” I hiss, narrowing my eyes at him and snagging his attention this time. Heather Quinton is the daughter of Hestia Quinton, who wears the unfortunate nickname of town slut. Rumor has it she’s broken up a marriage or two. I don’t know if that’s true, though. Personally, I feel sorry for her. So, she sleeps around. You do too, I want to remind him. Pot meet kettle. And how dare he judge her, considering he has the same reputation.
Maybe she’s the one he had against the wall.
Oh, God, brain, stop thinking.
“Okay,” Billy says, rubbing his hands down his thighs. “You probably shouldn’t have called her that name, but she shouldn’t have said anything to you either.” He stares at Sadie a second, as if he has more to say, but there’s a question in his expression. Whatever it is, he doesn’t ask, though, and silence falls around us.
“Why don’t you tell him what else you said?” I interject, pushing the issue I see as most relevant. Sadie turns on me, stabbing me with a glare similar to the one my sister would give me when she was upset with me.
“What else did she say?” Billy asks me, and I look over at him. I shouldn’t get involved, although I just poked the sixteen-year-old bear. I nod in her direction, and Billy turns back to Sadie. “What did you say?” he questions her, and I smile despite the seriousness of this conversation.
“It doesn’t matter,” Sadie says. She attempts to rush past Billy up the staircase, only there isn’t enough space between his body and the railing. Billy’s quick to grab her wrist, stopping her in place next to him. His eyes focus on his thick fingers around her thin wrist, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Sadie’s staring at the place he’s holding as well, and a strange heaviness falls around us.
“Tell me what else you said.” His voice isn’t demanding although his command holds authority.
“I said my family rules this town, and I can say what I want to say.”
Billy’s head shoots up to Sadie’s, and for a moment, I think he’s fighting another chuckle, but he stays focused on her face.
“Sadie, I’m not going to lie and say being a Harrington isn’t a big deal. I love my family, but we aren’t anything special other than to each other. I’m assuming you know your uncle—” Billy pauses and swallows hard. “—he runs this town as mayor, but that doesn’t mean anything to me. He’s still just my kid brother.”
Sadie doesn’t say anything, and I’m not certain the impact of what Billy’s trying to impart is making sense to her. She can’t be throwing out the name. Then again, when will he tell his family? Does he want her to disappear? The question instantly comes to mind, and I chastise myself for thinking such a thing.
“As for being a Harrington, well, I’d like to tell my family first before announcing to the whole town who you are. Do you understand me?”
Sadie nods, but the pinch in her face suggests she might not. She tugs at her arm, and Billy releases her. She stampedes the remaining steps, thundering up the wood, and Billy turns to watch her retreat. When she enters my apartment and shuts the door, he turns back to me.
“I expected her to slam it like Mati.” He chuckles without humor. “She’s got a little fire in her like my sister.”
It’s a sweet comparison. I’m younger than the youngest Harrington by a few years, so I don’t know her well, but she and her brother work together at the pub. If appearances could speak, I’d say they seem rather close as siblings.
“What are you doing here?” I wonder aloud. Billy presses off the step and towers over me before taking them down to the sidewalk.
“Thought I’d step it up, like you suggested.” He smirks, and I hate to admit it’s a darn enticing look on him. “Also, about last night—”
I wave a hand to dismiss any discussion and begin to apologize. I might have overacted, but he interrupts me.
“I’m sor—”
“I overstepped,” he emphasizes, “and it won’t ever happen again.”
With that, he hands me a piece of paper with a phone number and tips his head like a Southern gentleman missing his cowboy hat.
12
The best things come in threes
[Billy]
“What is the meaning of this?” a female voice squawks through the phone.
“Who is this?” I respond although I have a good sense of who’s calling me, and with that particular tone, it can only be one woman.
“It’s Roxanne. And what’s the meaning of these papers?”
I exhale through the phone. “I’m filing for custody.”
The word tastes bitter on my tongue, and I feel a little sick from the formality, but Jordan recommended it. Silence that weighs like a ton of bricks on my chest follows my statement. I scrub at my sternum.
“Roxanne.”
“How could you do this? This trumps my petition for guardianship.” Her voice is so small, my heart falls to the pit of my stomach. I hear her swallow through the phone. Is she crying?
“I’m her dad. Her biological father.” I use the legal jargon. “I have financial responsibilities toward this girl, and it’s only fair. I can’t expect you to bear the burden.”
“Sadie isn’t some girl, and she isn’t a burden to me.” Roxie sniffs.
“You’re right. She isn’t some girl. She’s my daughter.” The words taste foreign in my mouth, but I’ll need to get used to them. “And I’m not saying she’s a burden. I’m just saying it wouldn’t be right to let you shoulder all the money stuff. I’m here to do the right thing.”
“Do the right thing?” she mumbles, as if she isn’t clear what those words mean. More silence ensues, and I’m ready to end this call. I don’t want to hurt Roxanne, but I need to do what’s best for Sadie, and Jordan assures me, as her biological parent, I’m the best thing for her.
“Couldn’t we…can’t we work something out? Like a legal mediator who helps us design a calendar of times and days and holidays, like shared custody or something. I’ve been looking into it.”
&nbs
p; I’m stumped. “You have?”
“I thought…well, I guess I should have discussed this with you, but I’d hoped we could work out a schedule, like a divorced couple with shared visitation, until Sadie gets to know you better.”
The word divorce hits me almost as hard as custody. I already am divorced, and while I was grateful we didn’t have children and were able to split everything rather amicably, I always wanted kids. I didn’t realize how much until presented with one. This whole process seems so formal and rigid, sterile and legal, which isn’t how I want things to be with Sadie. I want to get to know her, and I don’t want to squeeze out Roxanne. She’s an important link to who Sadie is, not to mention, it wouldn’t win me any brownie points with my daughter to push away the only living relative from her mother’s side. I just want to do what’s best for everyone.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Well, I thought you could take Sadie out, get to know her better, or come to the apartment. Whatever seems most comfortable for both of you. Then we could decide on a regular schedule, like Tuesdays and Thursdays, and then every other weekend. We don’t have to be rigid, just respectful. If something doesn’t work for you, I can keep Sadie.”
“What if it doesn’t work for you?” I scoff, remembering what she thinks of me and how kissing her disgusted her.
“Please,” she exaggerates. “The bookstore is my life. I’m always here.” The sarcasm in her tone I recognize because I can relate. The pub is all I have despite my flirtatious nature and all the womanizing Roxanne thinks I do.
“Okay,” I say, and a long pause follows, to the point I wonder if Roxanne has disappeared again.
“Okay what, William?” she asks although there’s no bark in her question. She’s like a timid dog, ready to pounce but pacing before defending itself.
“We can do it your way. For now.” I acquiesce because I don’t think I can be alone with Sadie yet. I mean, I don’t know her, and she doesn’t know me. We could use Roxanne as our mediator, but I’ll never admit to Roxie how appreciative I am of her suggestion.
“We can?” Her shriek is almost deafening, and I tug the phone away from my ear. With a chuckle, I return it to the side of my head, hearing her relieved laughter through the phone.
“I take it this makes you happy.” My comment is snarky as I don’t care to please her, but my chest constricts again with the sound. She has a nice laugh.
“You have no idea, William.” She giggles deeper. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
I like the sound of her gratitude even better, and a small grin curls my lips. I shouldn’t care about her feelings, but apparently, it’s pleasing me to please her.
+ + +
Roxanne and I map out a plan of visitations and daddy-dates, as she calls them, but the first few will be at her apartment. I have a strange sense Roxie wants to supervise Sadie and me, which is fine because we might need her interference. I’ve been trying to communicate with Sadie, finding myself stiff with each interaction but grateful for texting. A quick have a good day or sleep well fills my week, but I’m not in the practice, and after the first day I forget, Clyde suggests I set reminders so I don’t miss out.
“Daily communication is important. Even a simple text in the morning can be like a hug from an absent parent,” he tells me, and I stare at my big friend.
“How do you know these things?”
He shrugs. “I read.”
Right. Lots of words.
If Roxie wants to admonish me for the time I forgot, she keeps it to herself when Thursday arrives and I’m at her place for dinner and a movie. I’m expecting it to be a night of chick flicks full of cheesy lines and mushy romance, so I’m surprised when Sadie selects Deadpool starring Ryan Reynolds. Roxanne is animated as she says, “Oh, I’ve never watched this movie before.”
Sadie grins and meets my eyes, which I take as a show of solidarity, but I’m a little nervous. I have seen this movie.
“Are we sure this is appropriate?”
Roxanne’s startled expression makes me chuckle. “You’re worried about appropriateness?”
“Okay, you asked for it.” I shrug, settling on the couch. It’s an oversized three-cushion sofa with an extension at one end, like a built-in ottoman. Sadie’s curled up in the corner, forcing me to sit between Roxie and her. It’s almost as if they have their spot—that sort of undesignated seat on a couch where you always sit. It reminds me of being a kid in a house full of mostly boys and the back den which we called the trophy room. Each of us had our place of preference and whether you were sitting there or not, you claimed it once you entered the room. I remember one particular time I wanted my seat back and James wouldn’t relinquish it. The memory makes me miss my older brother.
The movie begins in all its graphic glory, and then Ryan Reynolds meets the girl.
Oh, shit. How could I forget this part?
“I’m going to go make some popcorn,” Sadie says, hopping off the couch, and I’m relieved because Wade and Vanessa are about to have a sex montage. The kiss begins, and I want to hide behind my hands like a frightened child watching a horror film. This is bad. So bad. It’s a calendar year of sex, graphically displayed by a variety of positions. Wall sex. Missionary. Doggy style. My heart races, and I’m hyperaware of Roxanne beside me. From the corner of my eye, I see her hand travel to her throat, and my mouth waters. She strokes a finger to the dip between her collarbone, and I shift on my cushion with the need to adjust myself. I sit forward instead and place my elbows on my thighs, which is almost as painful. I’m stiff as a tent pole and trying to disguise it from Sadie, who waltzes into the room at the timely end of the scene.
“My, that Ryan Reynolds is hot,” Roxie states, and I roll my neck to glance at her over my shoulder.
“I knew you’d like it,” Sadie simmers, and I turn back for her. My eyes pinch as she devilishly smiles at me. Oh, this kid.
“Aunt Roxie, we need to find you someone like him.”
Roxie’s nervous giggle makes me shake my head, and I return my eyes to the screen.
“What do you know about guys like him?” I ask.
To which Sadie says, “Plenty.”
“What?” Roxie and I say in unison.
“I just mean, I’ve dated boys.”
“I don’t want to hear this,” I mutter.
“You’ll have to get used to these things, Dad.” The mockery in her tone should upset me, and in some ways, it makes my insides flip flop, but a strange warmth fills me as well. Will she call me dad one day, or will I remain this nameless man? She currently doesn’t address me even as Billy.
“You can tell your…” Roxanne falters on what to call me as well. “Or me, anything, honey.”
My attention turns back to Roxie. What? I am not listening to my daughter talk to me about dates or sex, especially not sex, and absolutely, definitely not about sex like what Roxanne and I witnessed in the movie. Roxie’s eyes widen at me as if she read my thoughts and she’s responding with an you-will-listen-to-anything look.
I shake my head again. I don’t know that I’ll survive fatherhood.
+ + +
“You’re spending an awful lot of time over there,” Clyde comments, motioning his head across the street.
“Where you spendin’ your time?” My oldest brother Giant sits across the bar from us. His stature fits his name as he’s a big guy, thus the nickname Giant when his real name is George. He runs our family’s brewery, taking over from our father who ran it when our pap died. Giant bears the name of generations of George Harringtons, and I don’t wish for the pressure he’s under. I have my own concerns.
I’m not bartending, just managing this evening. More like hanging out as the more time I spend over at Roxie’s with Sadie, the more I don’t like being home alone.
“Nowhere,” I grumble, giving the stink-eye to Clyde to keep his mouth shut. It’s been two weeks of shared visits. It isn’t that I don’t want to tell my family about Sadie; i
t’s just that I’m waiting for the right time. I need to get through Oktoberfest, which includes my brother because we only distribute Giant Brewing beer that night. Our fall blend was released a month ago with great success, and we have a winter ale coming out in time for the holidays. Thanksgiving has been my target date. That’s the day I plan to tell my family about Sadie and introduce her and Roxanne to the Harrington clan. Well, I mainly mean Sadie, but it’s strange to separate the two in my head. They’re a package deal, and it makes me wonder how Sadie was with her mother.
Roxanne has hinted that Trixie was tough on Sadie, forcing her to make the grades and practice for everything. She sounded strict, and it makes me wonder how a motorcycle fit into her life. Maybe she had an alter ego, desperate for the wayward girl she once was before she became a mother. I’m also curious how I would have been as a father, actually raising Sadie from the ground up instead of jumping in mid-shift.
“You seem preoccupied,” Giant states, and I glance back at my brother.
“You look the same.” Giant nods and glances down at his phone. “What’s going on with you?”
“I’m…I’m bringing a woman to Oktoberfest.”
My hands slip from the counter at my back. “What?” I chuckle. My brother is practically a hermit. He spends more time than me at work, and when he isn’t working, he disappears up the mountain to the cabin Pap left him. I haven’t seen him date or heard of any commitment other than a semi-regular visit to a girl outside of town, which sounds semi-pathetic to me, but I don’t judge. He married his high school sweetheart like I did, only his ended with a sadder fate. Cancer sucks. Clara was awesome.
“So, who is she?” I step toward the bar and rest my arms on the top, leveling my gaze at my oldest sibling. “This must be serious if you’re introducing her to the family during Oktoberfest.”
Giant’s dark eyes gaze down at his beer, but he wears a shit-eating grin. He shrugs noncommittally.
“But you like her,” I tease, like the teenager inside me.
