by Ivy Jordan
“Do you want me to pick Holly up from school?” I asked.
“You’re not on the pickup list. She’ll have to take the bus,” she groaned.
My heart sank deep into my chest. I wasn’t on the pickup list to get my own daughter from school.
“I can meet her at the bus stop,” I smiled, hiding the fact I was hurt.
I knew I hadn’t been there long, and that there hadn’t been enough time for Alyssa to add to me to lists like that. I wasn’t an emergency contact, an approved pickup parent. I wasn’t anything—yet.
Alyssa nodded and then laid her head back down.
Since I wasn’t picking her up at school, I had a few minutes before I had to leave to meet her at the bus stop. I cleaned up the bathroom and hosed down the porch again, even though Maria had once already. I made sure everything was in order, that the blender was cleaned and put away, that no signs of the disastrous day were left behind.
Alyssa was up, but still moving slowly as I started to leave.
“Thank you,” she muttered.
I just smiled, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and rushed out the front door.
I parked near the bus stop, where other parents were waiting, some in their cars, some of them on foot.
The yellow bus turned the corner, and my heart started to race. I couldn’t wait to see Holly, to grip her in my arms, squeeze her tight, and tell her I loved her.
She stepped off of the bus, noticed my truck, and started to race towards me. I stepped out, opened my arms, and embraced her as she asked where her mom was.
“I thought she’d pick me up from school,” she said, walking towards the passenger side of my truck.
“She wasn’t feeling well,” I explained.
“So she talked to you?” she asked eagerly.
“Yeah,” I smiled, even though that wasn’t exactly the case.
We hadn’t done much talking. There were still plenty issues to work through. But I took my day with her, taking care of her, as a sign that things would work out somehow.
Holly’s face lit up with excitement.
“I was afraid she would push you away,” she groaned.
It wasn’t that she didn’t try.
“No one will ever push me away from you or your mother again,” I said as I reached across the truck and ruffled Holly’s hair.
We pulled away from the curb, and I started down the side street, passing the turn to my house.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To your grandma’s,” I responded.
“I wanted to stay with you, to spend some time with you,” Holly rebutted anxiously.
“Your mother’s there. We’ll talk to her,” I agreed.
My comment seemed to appease Holly, at least for the moment. I pulled up in front of the little yellow house. Alyssa was on the porch, in the same rocker I’d found her in earlier that morning, and Maria’s car was parked in the driveway beside Alyssa’s, back from the store.
Holly jumped out before I had a chance to help her and rushed to the porch. By the time I made it to the stairs, she was already arguing with her mother.
“I want to stay with Dad.” She stomped her foot.
“Your dad and I need to talk about that,” Alyssa said sternly.
It was obviously a conversation, or argument rather, that they’d had before.
“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Liam?” Maria stuck her head out of the front door.
Holly looked delighted, her eyes wide, and her face returning to the sweet, smiling girl I’d grown to love.
“Sure. I mean, if that’s okay with Alyssa,” I responded, turning my attention to her.
She still looked pale, uneasy, and sick. A faint smile appeared on her face. I couldn’t tell if it was natural or forced, but I took it.
“Sure,” she said softly.
Holly jumped up, grabbed my arm, and pulled me into the house, leaving Alyssa alone on the porch.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked Maria.
She shook her head and then smiled at Holly.
“You two catch up. I know she’s missed her dad this week,” Maria smiled.
Holly took me by the hand and pulled me through the kitchen to the back door. She pushed open the small door that led into the garage and flipped on the light.
“Wow,” I gasped.
The decorations for the carnival were all complete. She explained how she and her grandmother finished them up while I was gone.
“Now, you can bring our stuff over, and we can surprise mom,” she beamed.
“She’s going to love it,” I sighed.
“Do you want to play hide and seek?” she gushed.
Sometimes she appeared older than eleven. Now, it was one of those times where she acted her age. It was a rare thing. I loved seeing her smile and acting so playful, so carefree.
“I’d love to,” I agreed.
She instructed me to stay in the garage, which would be home base. I was to count to fifty, and then come search for her, somewhere in the yard, but not in the house.
I covered my eyes, leaned against the wall, and started to count. I could hear her giggle, rustling around to quickly make her exit, and it made me laugh, losing count after only seven.
I started over, counting slowly, so she had plenty of time to find a good spot.
“Fifty, here I come,” I warned loudly, making my way from the garage.
I stood in the backyard, scanning the area for places she could hide. There were tall trees, shrubs, a shed, a playset, and a large deck in the back. I searched them all, no Holly.
I made my way to the front of the house, where Alyssa was still sitting on the porch in the rocker.
“Have you seen Holly?” I asked.
“I can’t tell you that,” she stated firmly.
Okay, so that’s a yes.
I looked under the porch, through all the shrubs, all while Alyssa snickered at me.
“You know where she is, don’t you?” I questioned.
Alyssa shook her head, but a smile crept up on her face.
I continued my search, moving to the porch, the only place left.
I sat down, stared around the yard, trying to think if there was a place I hadn’t checked.
A giggle erupted from somewhere close.
I turned, quickly checking under my chair. No Holly. The snickered returned, this time matched with Alyssa’s giggle.
“Where are you?” I questioned slowly, taking my time to look around before getting up.
Finally, I noticed, the area beneath Alyssa’s chair was covered with an old throw. I stood, walked the length of the porch and back again, calling for Holly, and then quickly lifted the throw, nearly knocking Alyssa’s chair to its back.
“There ya are,” I exclaimed, gripping Holly’s arm.
She laughed hysterically until finally pulling herself from the cramped space.
“Your turn to hide,” she insisted, and then ran off to the garage to count.
Alyssa laughed as I ran off, frantically searching for a space to hide. I knew I was too big to be discreet anywhere on the front porch, or the yard, so I ran towards the back, the playset, where I’d take refuge inside the tunnel slide.
Our game continued until Maria called out the door that dinner was done. Holly ran out from her hiding spot behind the large shrub and rushed into the kitchen as I chased her.
We were both laughing, still out of breath from playing so long and so hard. Alyssa sat at the table, still pale, and looking as if she were ready to get sick again, while Maria ordered us to go wash our hands.
Back at the table, Alyssa still didn’t look well. Maria slid a dish filled with rice, peppers, beans, and pork to the center of the table, and then passed out tortilla warmers to everyone with four tortillas inside.
I’d missed Maria’s cooking. That was one thing I could honestly say I missed about the woman.
Holly didn’t waste any time digging into the d
ish. She stuffed her tortilla full to the point of overflowing and then started shoving it in her mouth. I laughed at her eagerness; Maria just rolled her eyes.
“Are you okay?” I whispered to Alyssa, leaning towards her to be discreet.
She nodded, although it wasn’t very convincing.
“I’m fine,” she said softly.
“Are you sure this isn’t something besides Margarita Monday?” I whispered.
Her head turned quickly, snapping towards me as her lips curled into a frown.
“Yes,” she snapped, louder than a whisper.
I pulled back from the conversation, deciding it was best to leave her alone. I finished my meal, thanked Maria for having me, and then kissed Holly on the cheek goodbye.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, kiddo,” I smiled, and started out the door.
Alyssa didn’t make any effort to say goodbye, so I offered a quick wave before exiting to the porch.
Maria followed, her demeanor oddly friendly, and gave me a quick hug at the door.
“You’re welcome here anytime,” she offered, and then left me on the porch, stunned.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alyssa
I was beginning to wonder why I even stopped at my mother’s house. All she could do was rant and rave about Liam, about how sweet he’d been while I was sick.
I’d avoided her for a couple days, having heard all the gushing that evening when I finally had enough energy to try and leave.
“I thought you hated Liam,” I snapped.
“I never hated Liam; I just didn’t want you to get hurt,” she replied.
“And now?” I gasped.
“I don’t think he’s out to hurt you,” she defended.
“That doesn’t mean he still won’t,” I argued.
“True. But, what is life without risk?”’ she chuckled.
Who was this woman? What had he done to my mother?
“I don’t like risks,” I smirked.
She laughed.
“Yes, well, without risk, you get no reward,” she interjected.
What a cliché.
“Anyways, I think it would be nice if you made peace with him, at least gave him a chance,” she suggested.
“How do you suggest I do that?” I snipped.
She walked away, towards the kitchen, so I followed.
“Bring him lunch,” she smiled, pushing a tray of tamales towards me.
“Seriously?” I sighed.
This was her plan all along. I came here to have lunch with her, not be bullied into spending my half day with Liam.
“Just take it,” she insisted.
I took the tray and stood there contemplating how to win the argument. It was useless. Every scenario I ran through my mind, I lost.
“Okay, fine,” I agreed.
I had been thinking about Liam, not that I’d admit that to her. I’d already told her too much.
She practically pushed me out of her house and to my car. I’d never seen her so aggressive about hooking me up with a man—breaking me up from one, sure, but not hooking me up.
I got in my car, thankful at least to be away from her, and drove towards Liam’s. I hadn’t talked to him, only through Holly. I didn’t know if he was busy or if he’d started his job early. Maybe he didn’t want to see me.
There it was: Liam’s house. His truck was in the driveway, so I pulled in behind it. My heart raced as I remembered our encounter, so hot, so steamy.
Stop it, Alyssa; just deliver the food and leave.
I walked up the walk and stepped up onto the porch. Loud music blared from inside, so loud I didn’t think he’d hear the bell. I knocked hard and then rang the bell anyway. He didn’t answer.
The front door was cracked open, but I couldn’t see him inside.
I pushed the door; it was unlocked. The music blared loudly, shaking the house with the bass from the rock song, and Liam was nowhere to be found.
A slight touch to my side made me jump, squeal, and nearly throw the dish of tamales into the air. I turned to see Liam, shirtless, sweaty, so fuckin’ hot.
“You scared me,” I said loudly, only to be met by deaf ears.
He quickly reached for the stereo, turning the music off. The room fell silent, almost eerily from the earlier chaos.
“What?” he asked.
“I said you scared me,” I repeated.
“Sorry. What’s this?” he questioned, eyeing the dish in my hands.
“Mom sent you a tray of tamales,” I explained, pushing it towards him.
He took it, but his eyes stared into mine. It was obvious he wanted to say something, but was struggling not to.
“That was sweet,” he said softly.
“Yeah. She’s sweet on you all of a sudden, I guess,” I shrugged, still not sure how to handle my mom being sweet on Liam.
He laughed. Oh God, that laugh.
His chest had sweat dripping down towards his navel. I tried not to watch the drop roll through the indented ab muscles, but I couldn’t help it. My mouth watered, suddenly very thirsty.
“I got to go,” I said quickly, turning to rush out the door.
My arm tugged back, Liam’s strong hand gripped around it.
“Where are you running off to so fast?” he asked.
“I-uh,” I stuttered.
I had no answer. I had nowhere to go.
“Stay and eat with me,” he suggested.
I was hungry, but the fear it wasn’t for tamales made me want to pull away. So why didn’t I?
“Okay,” I whispered.
He walked into the kitchen, releasing my arm. I watched as he stretched his back muscles, reaching up to the top shelf for two plates. They were old, orange and white striped, the ones his mother used when I’d have dinner at his house as a school girl, as Liam’s girl.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked.
“Beer,” I quickly answered.
Liam slid the plates onto the table next to the tamales and reached into the fridge, pulling out two beers.
“Have a seat,” he nodded towards the table.
I slid into the chair, still unsure if I should even be here.
“So, you had a short day at work?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Sorry, I’m a mess. I’ve been out back cutting down a few trees,” he informed.
His skin glistened with sweat, his muscles so tight they looked as if they’d rip through his skin. I didn’t mind.
“This place hasn’t changed much,” I noted, looking around the room.
“No. I still need your help,” he hinted with a wink.
My designer brain started kicking in. There was plenty I could do to turn this into a nicer place for Liam to live. But did I want to get that close again?
Liam lifted one of the tamales from the pan and put it on my plate, and then returned to the dish for one to fill his plate as well. He slid the chair out, grinding against the wood floor and causing me to jump.
“You look like you’re feeling better,” he noted and then took a swig of his beer.
“Yeah. I am. Thanks for the other day,” I muttered.
I felt foolish that he had to take care of me and see me that way. I was in bad shape.
“My pleasure,” he smiled.
I laughed.
“Pleasure is a strong word,” I pointed out.
“Well, I enjoyed taking care of you. The shoe part, not as much,” he chuckled.
Oh God, I’d thrown up on his shoes. I’d forgotten all about that until now.
“I’m so sorry,” I groaned.
He just smiled, scooped up a large bite of tamale, and shoved it in his mouth. I watched as his eyes closed, his tongue rolled around his lips, and he moaned with happiness. I knew that moan.
“These are amazing,” he gushed.
I picked around, taking a couple bites from my own as he scarfed up his and then went in for seconds.
“You’re still not really hungry?
” he questioned.
“Not really,” I admitted.
I hadn’t had much of an appetite lately.
“Damn, that was good,” he roared, pushing his chair from the table.
My eyes were stuck on his chest, his beautiful, muscular chest.
“I better go,” I said quickly, scooting my chair back with that same loud grinding noise against the floor that made me jump.
Liam followed me as I made my way to the door. I reached out for the handle and then felt his hand clasping around my arm once again. I closed my eyes. Be strong.
“Do you have to rush off?” he asked, his voice seductive and smooth.
“I need to get home and get a shower,” I quickly made an excuse.
“I was just getting ready to shower myself. You want to join me?” he flirted.
Oh my God, yes. I wanted to join him. I wanted to wash his rippled abs, to taste his neck, feel his cock. I wanted all of it.
“No,” I giggled, and started to pull away.
His grip tightened.
“You sure you don’t want to explore why I’m so good at sex? I know how unanswered questions bug you,” he teased and then released my arm.
I didn’t flee like I thought I would. I couldn’t move. I was embarrassed that I’d sent those texts to him, but more than that, I wanted to take him up on his offer.
My knees started to weaken, sending me towards Liam, limp and vulnerable in his arms. Oh my God, his chest was so warm, so sticky and sweaty. Dirt covered his shoulders, his thick shoulders.
“Now I’ve gotten you all dirty,” he whispered in my ear, leaning down to kiss my lips.
My eyes closed, my lips parted, and I allowed his tongue to enter my mouth, stroking my tongue with precision and skill.
He walked backward, me in his arms, our mouths connected, and me following him without a fight.
At the bathroom door, he pulled back and stared deep into my eyes, but didn’t speak. His arms gripped around me tightly, lifting me from the ground and carrying me into the small tiled room.
“Let’s get you out of those dirty clothes,” he said seductively, slowly lowering me to my feet.
I let him undress me, slowly, sensually. First, he removed my shirt, then my bra, the ugly one that was comfortable, but not for a man to see. He moved to my pants, slowly pulling them down from my hips. I stepped out of them one leg at a time and smiled when his eyes lifted to mine in surprise that I wasn’t wearing panties.
