by J. L. Berg
“Yes,” she answered.
Dean and I looked at each other and smiled, waiting for it.
“Did you know that chickens are omnivores? That means, they eat plants and animals. Kind of like humans. Although there’s a kid at school, Dalton, who says he’s a vegetarian, so I guess not all humans.”
My mom’s eyebrow rose, a sort of mixed expression of surprise and adoration washing over her face. She looked up at me, and I simply shrugged.
“I did know that. Our chickens sometimes eat the mice and lizards that roam around the barn.”
Lizzie looked up at me as her eyes lit up. “You have chickens?”
“Yep,” my mom answered as we walked inside. “And a goat!”
“Wow, can we go see—”
“Cora.”
There, in the hallway where I’d learned to walk, was my father. He looked nearly the same as I remembered him. Same goofy outwardly appearance, wearing a Guardians of the Galaxy T-shirt and jeans that had probably been bought when I was in high school. He had a pencil tucked behind his ear and a smile on his face.
“Hi, Daddy,” I whispered.
His eyes looked down toward Lizzie, and I could almost see his heart swell several sizes. He briefly looked to Dean before moving back to me.
“Did you see the Christmas special?” he asked, grinning.
My mom made a sound in the back of her throat and threw her hands up in the air as she headed for the kitchen, mumbling something under her breath about, “…been apart for years, and that’s what he asks.”
“Yes.” I grinned back.
“And?”
“Brilliant,” I replied.
Just like I had known he would, he laughed, opening his arms wide. I ran right into them.
As I was engulfed in my father’s hug, I heard Dean say to Lizzie, “What Christmas special?”
“Doctor Who,” Lizzie informed him. “Mommy watched it after I went to bed because she thinks I’m not old enough.”
“Not old enough?” my dad bellowed as I turned toward my band of misfits, his arm still wrapped firmly around my shoulders. “You’re never too young for the Doctor.”
I gave him a sideways glance that told him I seriously disagreed. “And, when she has nightmares over Cybermen and Weeping Angels, who will she be waking up at night, Dad?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Oh well, it’s good for the character. Teaches bravery.” He gave Lizzie a wink, causing her to giggle. “Now, come on. Let’s go see what Nana has for us in the kitchen.” He pulled me close and whispered in my ear, “And maybe you can explain who your friend is?”
I nodded as Dean was dragged into the kitchen ahead of us.
Well, here goes nothing.
After my several attempts and false starts while sitting around the kitchen table, Dean saved me.
“You know, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a goat up close,” he said after we all finished cups of iced tea in near perfect silence. “Do you mind if Lizzie and I go roam the property for a bit?”
The collective sigh of relief was palpable.
“No, of course not,” my parents both said in unison.
As I gave him a smile that said so many things but mostly thank you, Lizzie hopped off her chair, happy to be going outside, and headed for the back door. I watched as my parents curiously eyed Dean. I didn’t blame them. I’d been so wrapped up in emotions after my arrival, I hadn’t even introduced him.
So, not only did they not know what he was doing, they also didn’t even know what to call him. They would soon. They would know everything soon.
I took a deep breath, my fingers clenching the empty glass in front of me, still cold from my tea. I opened my mouth, finally prepared to own up to all my sins and—
“We know you’re divorced,” my dad said, halting my words.
I looked up at him, a mixture of shock and surprise coursing through me. “What?”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “We’ve known something was up for a while. We’re not that stupid, Cora. How many times can one house be remodeled?”
I turned away, the guilt rising in my throat.
“But we kept hoping you’d come to us,” my mother stressed before adding, “It’s a hard job, being a parent, but it’s an even harder job, being a parent of an adult. You’re expected to care just as much but do very little. And when your child moves away? It’s even harder. We knew you were struggling in your marriage. I could read between the lines of those fake blog posts, hear the pain in your voice when you called, but every time I asked you if everything was okay, you assured me it was.”
“I know,” I said, feeling my lip quiver with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”
“No,” she said. “We’re sorry. We should have done more, but again, we don’t know how to do this. When you were younger, we could just send you to your room until you fessed up.”
A halfhearted laugh fell from my lips. “How much simpler life was back then.”
“After your last call, I went online and found the divorce records,” my dad said. “We were making plans to come visit you next month.”
“Really?”
They both smiled, a warmth spreading over me that I hadn’t felt in years.
“I missed you both so much.”
“We missed you, too, kiddo. And we’re sorry we let you down. From now on, we’re going to be in your business all the time, like those helicopter parents I see the first week of classes, who follow their kids into my lectures,” my dad joked.
I laughed, happy tears falling down my cheeks.
“Yes,” my mom agreed. “Starting with the handsome stranger with the soulful eyes.”
Leave it to my mom, the creative writing professor, to add the touch of flair to Dean’s description.
“Well, he must be important if she’s brought him all the way home,” Dad said.
“That, and she’s blushing.”
“Would you guys stop it?” I laughed. “His name is Dean, and yes, he’s important. Very. Things with Blake…” I hesitated, unsure of how much I wanted to say. “Let’s just say, they weren’t good. I lost a lot of trust when it came to relationships. So much so, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to try again. But Dean makes it easy, so easy that I don’t even have to try. I never question the trust between us. It’s just always been there since the beginning.”
A moment of silence passed between my parents as they looked at each other before turning back to me.
“Okay, but serious question.”
I bit my lip as my father stared me down.
“Does he like Battlestar Galactica?”
My mom threw her hands up once again as I burst into laughter.
“What?” he said. “If I’m going to get a shot at another son-in-law, can’t I at least ask? None of you will watch the fracking show with me.”
I let out a giant breath as my eyes squeezed shut.
God, how I’d missed this place.
Recovery Journal: Day…who the fuck cares?
I’m home.
I’ve been home for a while now.
Maybe a couple of weeks, or maybe it’s been months now. The days kind of drag together.
Right about now would be a good time to develop a serious drinking habit, but like most things these days, I can’t even seem to get my shit together enough to accomplish that.
I just don’t care.
About anything.
Mama and Taylor have given up on asking when I’m returning to work. I guess, after asking for so long, they’ve figured they have their answer.
And the really shitty thing?
I know I’m being a dick. I have enough logic left in my head that I can step back, look at what I’m doing, and say to myself, “Jesus Christ, grow the fuck up, and get over your damn self. So you lost an arm. Big fucking deal. Man up, and get on with your life.”
Yet I wake up the next morning, drag my ass out of bed, make an entire pot of coffee, and sit around, doing nothing all day.
I’m stuck.
And I don’t know how to get unstuck.
Molly says it’s PTSD or depression. I wasn’t aware she’d gotten her psych degree while I was in the hospital.
All I know is, I want to be left alone.
Yeah, I know.
Zero chance of that happening.
“My mom thinks you’re hot,” Cora announced as we leaned against the fence, watching Lizzie run around with her grandparents, happy as can be.
After homemade enchiladas and margaritas, we’d agreed that a little fresh air could do us all some good.
I smiled, shaking my head, as I turned to look at Cora. “What is it with you Carpenter girls? I’ll be sure not to give her flowers.”
She laughed, placing her head on my shoulder. “Thank you for coming with me. I know it must have been awkward for you at first, especially when my dad started grilling you at dinner.”
I smiled, watching Lizzie chase after a chicken as her grandparents trailed behind. “Usually, fathers grill the guys on things like job security and what intentions they had with their daughter. Your father though? It was like sitting down to play Trivial Pursuit. Only worse.”
She laughed. “He was only trying to get to know you. He just talks fast when he’s excited.”
“That was excited?”
She nodded. “Didn’t you see his hands waving?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “I think I momentarily passed out in the middle. So, he likes me?”
She nodded once more, this time with a warm smile. “Yeah, I think so. But I knew he would. You’re intelligent and full of witty humor, and most of all, you adore me.”
I brushed back a piece of her hair, smiling. “Yeah, I do.”
Our moment of connection was broken when we heard Lizzie shout, “Pappy, can I have your phone? I want to know what these two chickens are doing over here.”
My eyes traveled over to where she was standing and saw a very large rooster about to mount a chicken as a curious Lizzie looked on.
“Oh God!” Cora cursed, running toward her father as he stood there, looking perplexed, holding his phone in his hand, probably wondering what the hell he was supposed to do.
After redirecting Lizzie’s attention, we all headed inside.
“Abe,” Cora’s father said. “I don’t think we were ever properly introduced aside from being known as ‘Pappy’.” He stuck his hand out to meet mine. His right hand.
Although it hadn’t been mentioned at dinner or anytime after, I was sure the Carpenters had noticed my disability. Why he would greet me with a handshake like this, I had no idea.
Unless it was some sort of test.
Before I had a chance to react, Cora came between us. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I’m going to go unpack, so I can get this kid to sleep.” She raised her eyebrows at me as she passed. “And then I’m going to take Dean to The Hole.”
“The what?”
No one answered me.
Abe just chuckled under his breath until his gaze settled on my arm once more. “How’d it happen?” he asked.
Swallowing hard, I answered, “I was on a ferryboat. The engine exploded or so we think. Piece of debris severed my arm nearly clean off.”
I could see the empathy and pain in his eyes. “I know I come off as a kind of quirky guy. A chemistry professor who loves sci-fi—how much more cliché could I get? But I do know a thing or two when it comes to character. Iron Man, Captain America, Harry Potter. We identify with these fictional characters—or at least, I do—because we recognize traits in them that we see in ourselves. And, if there’s one thing I’ve learned along the way, it’s that the best heroes are made in the face of tragedy. If you are half the man my daughter claims you are, then I’m grateful to have you watching over the two of them.”
I met his gaze and lifted my chin. “If you know anything about your daughter, you know she doesn’t need anyone to watch over her. She’s perfectly capable of doing it herself.”
I waited for the shouting to begin. No doubt, he’d kick me out after that.
Way to go, Dean. I hope there’s a suitable hotel nearby.
But, instead of shouting, there was laughter. Just a roaring laugh and a hefty pat on my back.
“Good man,” he said. “I was hoping you’d say that. Now, you can go to The Hole with my daughter.”
I looked down the hall to where Cora was leaning against the doorframe to the guest bedroom, a satisfied smirk spreading across her face.
This was the weirdest family I’d ever met.
“Should I be worried that you’re taking me out into the middle of nowhere, at night, to a place called The Hole?” I asked before adding, “Or be concerned that you didn’t even bring a flashlight?”
She laughed as we passed by the small barn and walked into the open field just past the house.
“No,” she replied, not seeming concerned in the least. “I know the way like the back of my hand. And, besides, a flashlight would mess up our night vision.”
I looked around, my eyes beginning to adjust slightly to the pitch-black surroundings. “Okay. But you still haven’t explained what The Hole is.”
“And I’m not going to,” she said. “You’ll just have to wait until we get there.”
I focused on following her steps but not before I said, “You’re different in Texas.”
“Different good?” she asked as the house started to fade behind us.
“Just different.” I shrugged. “Less burdened, I think. More laid-back.”
“Is that good? Or bad?” she asked again.
I could already sense the worry in her voice. Tugging on her hand, I got her to stop for a brief moment. In the darkness, I could barely make out the gentle curves of her face as I cupped my hand around it.
“It’s just an observation, Cora. It’s not good or bad because it’s all you, remember? The unorganized but always involved mother with the geekiest heart of gold.”
She laughed at my humorous addition as I bent down and kissed her mouth. She tasted of salt and tequila, warm Texas nights and possibilities. I wanted to spend forever exploring every inch of her body with my tongue.
“So, are you going to show me where this hole is, or am I going to be forced into making a bad joke?”
“Actually,” she said, tugging me toward a grove of trees, “it’s just over here.”
Of all the things I’d imagined in my mind, which was actually very little, I hadn’t expected this. Nestled inside the grove of oaks was a large pond. The moon reflected off the water, giving plenty of light as we walked up to the edge.
“It’s a swimming hole,” I said, finally understanding the name.
She nodded. “Or watering hole, if you’re a local.”
I took a moment to look around, spotting what appeared to be a hammock tied between two tree trunks and a small paddleboat at the water’s edge. There was even a rope hanging near us for diving, I assumed.
“This must be a blast during the day,” I said, imagining how apeshit Lizzie was going to be when we brought her here in the morning.
A hand slid around my waist, and my focus was drawn back to her. Only her.
Cora’s eyes dazzled under the moonlit sky as she looked up at me. “It can be a lot of fun at night, too,” she said. “Or so I’ve imagined.”
She stepped back, giving me a full view of every luscious curve of her perfect body. The moment her fingers touched the hemline of her shirt, I knew I had to say something.
Taking her hand in mine, I brought it to my lips. “This doesn’t have to be today, Cora. I said I’d wait, and I meant it. I know you’ve had an emotional day and—”
Her lips halted my words, kissing away any doubts I’d had with a single breathless moment. “I know what I want, Dean,” she said. “And I want you. Right here. Wet and wild, under the stars, in the water—”
It was me who didn’t hesitate that time, kissing her with such passion, I thought we might
burn the whole pasture down around us.
When her fingers went for her shirt, this time, I didn’t stop her. This time, my hand followed hers, trailing behind, tracing over her bare skin like I was an explorer on uncharted land. But my hand wasn’t enough. Soon, my lips were everywhere at once. The hollow of her collarbone, the subtle curve of her neck, and the delicate valley between her breasts.
“More,” she murmured, tugging at my shirt. “I want to see more of you.”
I did as she wanted, pulling my shirt up over my head, and watched her eyes roam over my body with desire.
Just seeing her reaction to my half-naked body was enough to make me hard.
Harder than I’d felt in my entire life.
We took our time undressing each other, both knowing this moment, this first, would only come once. I savored the way her skin, still tan from summer, almost seemed to shimmer in the faint light. I brushed my fingers over the tiny scar from Lizzie’s C-section and the scattering of freckles that adorned her breasts.
“Will you make love to me in the water, Dean?” she asked, wrapping her arms around her neck.
I cupped her cheek with my hand. “I’ll make love to you whenever and wherever I can, for however long you’ll allow me the honor, Cora.”
“How does forever sound?” she asked.
“Perfect.”
We moved toward the water before I stopped myself. She turned back, a look of concern in her eyes.
“I can’t go in the water with my prosthesis,” I said, unsure why I still felt nervous about taking it off.
I’d done it once.
I should be over this fear.
Obviously, she sensed my hesitation.
Cora stepped forward, one hand reaching for the thick fabric that covered my prosthesis, the other on my waist. “You once asked me if I trusted you. Do you remember?”
I nodded as my forehead rested atop hers, and I let out a deep breath.
“Now, trust me, Dean Sutherland,” she urged.
Her fingers curled around the neoprene and gently tugged. I could already feel sweat forming around my temples as my eyes darted to my arm.
“Look at me,” she demanded.
