Man of the House

by Abigail Graham

  “You’re not my dad, Jim.”

  He looks at Alexander. “You left town.”

  “We’re in the city limits. Come on, Jim.”

  He looks both of us over. An itch clings to the back of my neck, and I pluck at my blouse, to pull the damp fabric away from my chest. I cough, then slip out of the car.

  Alex stands behind me, towering over my head. I nonchalantly walk around to the driver’s side, while Alex climbs in.

  “Thanks, Jim.”

  Bemused, he shakes his head and walks back to his car. He’s still got a Crown Vic, the last one the department owns.

  “Please don’t say anything to anyone,” I call out.

  He gives me a nod and a wave.

  “When I plow my wife in the back of my cruiser, I remember not to lock myself in,” he says, before ducking into his car and pulling off.

  Next to me, Alex laughs softly.

  “Not funny,” I growl at him.

  “We better get you home.”

  “Yeah.”

  He’s quiet the rest of the way back into town, his gazed fixed on the distance. Great, Phoebe. We were having a great time until you started interrogating him, locked in or not.

  I groan.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I forgot I have this thing on Sunday. It’s going to be awkward.”

  “What thing?”

  “My older sister’s birthday party. Her husband will be there. He coaches--”

  “The other peewee team? Yeah. We met, remember?”

  “Yeah. I can’t stand him. Creeper.” I sigh.

  Alex shifts in his seat. “What if you have a plus one?”

  “What, like if you go?”

  “Yeah. I could do that. I could do things like that,” he says, as if he’s surprised by his own admission.

  “Alex,” I say, wary. “Meeting my family is kind of a large step. We’ve been on one date.”

  “A hell of a date,” he says. “I could do this again. Minus getting locked in. I wish you hadn’t noticed.”

  “What, that we couldn’t get out?”

  “Yeah,” he says, shifting in his seat to face me. “You looked like you were up for round two.”

  My cheeks heat up. “I can’t stay out too late. I have a kid.”

  “I know.”

  Shit, it’s after eleven. We were in the backseat of my car for almost three hours. It’s eleven thirty by the time we pull up to the house.

  “Should I come inside?” he asks.

  I bite my lip. If I take him in with me, I’m not sure I’ll let him leave. The whole world feels like it’s doubled in size, and the thought of lying in that big empty bed by myself is less than tempting.

  My wedding band shines on my finger, like it’s trying to get my attention.

  “I’m not ready for that.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Thank you. I had a good time.”

  “I could tell,” he grins. “You get very vocal when you’re having a good time.”

  Once I park, he steps out and I go around to give him a hug. He bends down and tips my head back and kisses me lightly on the lips before he caresses my back, then releases me and walks to his house.

  When I reach my front door, it flies open. For half a heartbeat, I expect to have to explain myself to Carrie, but it’s Grace who waits for me.

  “Carrie is in bed,” she tells me. “He kissed… you…”

  Her eyes go wide. She sniffs the air around me, and her eyes go wider. He jaw drops.

  “You’re kidding me,” she whispers. “You fu--”

  “Grace!”

  “You had special mommy daddy hugs?”

  I glare at her and push past into my own house.

  “You’re welcome, by the way,” she mutters.

  “Thank you, Grace. I wasn’t planning to be so long.”

  “You wouldn’t have been if he wasn’t so long?” she says, grinning.

  “That was lame, Grace. You can do better.”

  She snorts. “Right. So how was it? Is he, ah, proportional?”

  I sigh. “Seriously?”

  “Come on, he’s as big as a house. I’m just wondering if he’s a grower or a shower.”

  I give her a flat look.

  “Fine, fine. I guess I’ll be on my way, then. See you Sunday?”

  “Yeah.” I nod and yawn.

  “So he wore you out.”

  I almost shove her onto the porch. “I do appreciate this, Grace, but please shut up.”

  She sticks her tongue out at me, and I close the door, then trudge upstairs. First stop is to check on Carrie. She’s fast asleep in her bed, where she should be, in her fuzzy pajamas. I give a sigh of relief and get in the shower.

  I can’t stop thinking about his hands on me, how he felt inside me. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve had sex and I don’t think I’ve ever had sex like that. He’s a stallion.

  Grinning to myself, I wrap up in a towel and head into the bedroom. When I glance out the window, I spot Alex across the side yards in his own bedroom, lying on his bed. He looks over and sits up.

  My grin widens, and I drop my towel, stand naked for a few seconds, and then click off the light, still grinning. That’ll give him something to look forward to.

  Sleep. I need sleep. I have the weekend off, already arranged for Hailey’s party. I’m not much looking forward to that. Relations between me and my eldest sister have always been icy.

  Hailey was always everything Mom wanted. She was girly, demure, and she grew fast, always towering over me. She wore dresses and skirts and played tennis when I was in mud and jeans, and she dated doctor’s sons and married right out of high school to her future dentist.

  I, on the other hand, didn’t do so well in the marriage department.

  I should tell Alex why I still wear the ring, and why I was so reluctant to go out with him. Staring at the ceiling, I wave my hand in front of my face, looking at the little band of gold around my finger.

  Carefully, I grasp hold of it and twist it. I turn it this way and that until it starts to loosen, then pull it slowly from my finger and set it on the nightstand.

  My hand feels weird, like I just pulled off part of my skin. The flesh where the ring once rested is so much paler than the rest of my hand, the skin smoother with a faint green tinge to it. My fingers flex and I get used to the feeling of them moving without the weight and pressure of the ring.

  I have an urge to go over and pound on Alex’s door and tell him right now, but I keep it pressed down. Maybe I never need to tell him at all. Never need to let him see how weak I am.

  When I wake the next morning, Carrie is already up and has hobbled down to the kitchen to wait for me. I half expect and half hope that Alex will show up, but by the time I’ve started breakfast I don’t think he’s coming.

  Oh, of course. There’s a peewee game today. Carrie can’t play, her ankle is still hurting her. I don’t want her limping around the field and risking a more severe injury.

  It’s an away game, so Alex had to get up and get to the high school to get on the bus with the kids. He’ll be gone all day.

  Saturday is a fine day for Pop Tarts.

  Usually Carrie would want to play outside, but I insist she rest in the living room and watch cartoons.

  While she’s in there, I walk into the garage, flip on the lights, and bind up my hair. I don’t want to leave Carrie alone, so after I lift and do my bodyweight exercises, I make do with the treadmill and run until I’m panting and covered in sweat.

  This day just drags. As it wears on, I start to realize I’m excited for tomorrow, for Hailey’s party of all things. That’s never happened before.

  The rest of the day is lazy. Carrie and I sit in the backyard and swing on the hammock. It’ll be too cold soon, and we both enjoy the last of the sun. I keep glancing at the house next door, hoping to spot Alexander, but I never see him.

  I just happen to lift my head from the hammock pill
ow and spot that orange hatchback cruising down my street.

  “Stay here,” I tell Carrie.

  I get up and jog to the front gate, and step out into the yard. By the time I get there, the Rabbit has reached the end of the street and turns hard to the right with a chirp of its tires.

  Leaning on the tree in my front yard, I wonder if I should call it in. That’s the third time I’ve seen that woman cruising my block. What does she want?

  Maybe I’m just being paranoid. The world isn’t out to get me, at least, most of the time. It just feels that way.

  Sighing, I head back into my yard. Carrie is more than happy to lazily swing back and forth in the hammock.

  The grass is a little long. Our yard isn’t really that impressive, it’s just grass. When I got the place, I figured I’d build all this beautiful garden and things for my daughter to play in, but keeping the grass from getting too high is all I can manage. Always with the too-high expectations.

  Why can’t I shut up in my own head for five minutes and enjoy a nice fall day with my kid?

  For the next few hours, I do just that. Lounge in the hammock, then drive her to Dairy Queen.

  “Honey, stay here,” I tell her as we return to the house. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay,” she says, the words slurring into a big yawn as she flops on the couch.

  I step out the front door, lock it behind me, and step over to Alex’s place. He answers on the third knock.

  “Hi,” I say, trying to tamp down my excitement.

  “Hey, come in.”

  “I can’t, no one is watching Carrie. I just wanted to say hi, and um, make sure we’re on for tomorrow.”

  “Of course,” he says. “I can’t wait. When should I come over?”

  “Um, two-ish. I’m supposed to be there at three.”

  He grins. “Will do.”

  God, he’s gorgeous.

  “Okay then.”

  I’m still standing on his porch. Staring at him.

  “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

  I step back with a little wave, feeling like an awkward schoolgirl again. He starts to swing the door shut, and I dart up and just take a step inside. He reads my intentions perfectly, dips down, and kisses me.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” I tell him.

  I’m almost giddy as I walk back. When I step inside my own house, I have to suppress my grin. Carrie gives me a quizzical look, her lips pursed in a half-smile. I sit down next to her.

  “You went out with Alex.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Do you like him?”

  I sigh.

  I don’t want to get her hopes up. As much as it pains me, I know that sometimes I’m not enough for her. Even though it’s always been this way, she knows she doesn’t have a dad and it sets her apart from the other kids. Some part of me has always wanted to find one for her, but I just couldn’t do that to myself again. I wasn’t ready to take that risk.

  I still don’t know if I am. It’s going to be odd introducing him to everyone.

  By the time Carrie is yawning and fading out, I’m ready for bed myself. I walk her upstairs, tuck her in, and leave her to fall asleep.

  Me? Sleep tonight? I could laugh at the idea. I toss and turn, get up, pace the room, check all the doors and windows, pace some more, toss and turn, and finally fall asleep around three in the morning for a fitful four or five hours before Carrie wakes me up, pushing on my shoulder.

  She made me breakfast. Or tried to, anyway. I don’t let her touch the stove yet, but she warmed Pop Tarts and poured me a glass of milk. I ruffle her hair and hug her close, and sit to eat with her.

  By mid-afternoon, I’m almost bouncing up and down with excitement. I have to wear a dress, which means I have to wear the same outfit as last night. It’s the only non-pants clothing I own.

  I forgot to tell Alex how to dress. I worry over that as I put up my hair and dab on some lipstick. It feels as foreign to me as the dress, but I can’t go to Hailey’s house without makeup.

  There’s a knock at the door. By the time I reach the foyer, Carrie has already let Alex in. To my relief, he’s in khakis and a collared shirt. The short sleeves bare his powerful arms and the fabric pulls tightly across his broad, powerful chest.

  “Ready?”

  I nod.

  He leans down.

  “Why are you wearing the same outfit?”

  “It’s the only dress I have,” I whisper back.

  “It’s making me think about Friday night.”

  I swallow.

  “Try not to think about Friday night too obviously. I can’t have you walking around Hailey’s party with a thinking-about-Friday-night in your pants.”

  “Are you wearing underwear?” he purrs in my ear.

  I flinch. “Yes.”

  “Go back upstairs and take them off.”

  I pull back and blink. “What?”

  “Now.”

  Heat flickers through my body. It feels like my limbs want to start floating.

  Why am I doing this? I ask myself, as I dart up the stairs.

  I close the door, hike up my skirt, and yank down my panties. I toss them on the bed and walk back down.

  My skirt falls to mid-calf so I’m perfectly well covered, but I feel like I’m half naked. It makes me squirmy and excited, and the look on his face when he runs his hand over my butt and doesn’t feel any underwear beneath my dress makes it more intense.

  “Careful,” I warn him.

  He becomes the picture of a gentleman as Carrie wobbles into the room, leaning on an old cane that belong to my mom.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready!” she yells.

  She loves Hailey’s house, and with good reason.

  It’s a short trip across town to the new development. We pass a big stone sign that reads Stansfield and drive down two side streets to join the line of cars parked in front of their place.

  Hailey’s massive house is new construction, three stories with a grand foyer, a white vinyl fence, and a huge backyard with a deck, patio, pool, and playground equipment for her kids. She has three: the oldest is twelve and named Damon, and two twins named Melissa and Margaret, both ten.

  Alex looks bewildered, like he’s just stepped off a boat into uncharted land. He sticks close to my back as we walk inside.

  Hailey, my taller, blonder, better looking sister, tilts back and cranes her neck to look up at him, her mouth dropping open.

  “Hi, Hailey,” I say, cheerfully. “This is Alex Wright. He’s with me. I hope you don’t mind if I brought a plus one.”

  It’s hard not to crack a smile as Hailey realizes what’s happening.

  “Oh my God,” she breathes, “You’re…”

  “I’m me, yeah. Can I come in?” Alex asks.

  She steps back and motions him inside. I walk in front of him, helping Carrie along. Hailey frowns when she sees my daughter.

  “I heard what happened,” Hailey says, her voice dripping with the most exquisite sadness.

  “I’m sure you did.”

  “Hey, honey, how are you doing?” she asks Carrie, ignoring me.

  “Fine,” Carrie says, defiantly.

  “Party is out back. Come on,” Hailey says, a nervous hint in her voice.

  Alex offers me his arm and I fold mine through his. Carrie grimly hobbles forward on a cane, refusing to lean on me even as we pass through Hailey’s huge chef’s kitchen of the double ovens and countertop range and stainless steel and blond marble.

  Big French doors open onto the back deck. There’s so many kids here, it looks like it’s a party of one of them rather than my sister. She has a lot of friends, and they all have children.

  “Mom, can I get in the pool?” Carrie says.

  “Go on,” I tell her. “Just be careful on that cement, don’t twist your ankle again.”

  Carrie goes to peel off her clothes to reveal the bathing suit beneath. I place my present, a gift card to Red Lobster, with the pi
le of gifts on one of the tables on the deck.

  Alex looms behind me the whole time, scanning the backyard like he expects an attack.

  “Are you all right?” I ask him, softly.

  “Fine. Don’t do things like this much.”

  “Me, either. My sister and I aren’t close. Older sister.”

  Grace comes up to us.

  “Wow, you brought an ox with you,” she chirps. “Why, hello there, champ.”

  He looks down at her. “Hi.”

  “Can I ask you something? Are you a grow…”

  “Grace!” I snap.

  “What?” Alex says. “Am I what.”

  “My sister likes to run her mouth,” I tell him, though my eyes lock on Grace. “She thinks it’s funny to ask me inappropriate questions about men I date.”

  “Since when do you date any men?”

  “Grace,” I growl.

  Alex laughs.

  It’s loud. When he chuckles it’s like boulders smashing together. It’s enough to get the attention of most everyone at the party. Including my brother-in-law.

  Frank.

  Frank is thirty-seven, balding, skinny but with a pot belly, and he’s a dentist. Of all the professions my eldest sister had to marry into, it had to be dentists. I’ve hated dentists ever since I suffered weeks of agony from a botched wisdom tooth removal when I was nineteen that left me lying delirious on the couch while my mom watched my then eighteen month old daughter.

  Frank is the worst. When he was dating Hailey, he’d creep on me, and at this very moment, he’s trying to get a look at Grace’s ass, or at least he was a second ago. Right now, he’s locked eyes on Alex, mouth wide, his cocktail with little umbrella trembling in his hand.

  Alex looks right back and grins a feral, angry grin.

  I grab his arm.

  “Alex.”

  His voice is very low, so only I can hear. “There’s the piece of shit yelling about keeping the game going after your little girl got hurt.”

  “We need to keep the peace. He’s married to my sister.”

  “I’ll keep the peace,” Alex rumbles.

  Frank breaks into his practiced, fake smile and waves. “Well, look who it is! I should be flattered. The man himself!”

  I walk down the deck steps with Alex onto the patio. The kids are splashing in the pool nearby. I watch Carrie for a moment, making sure she’s okay. In the water, she’s buoyant, bouncing and happy and oblivious to her injury. It’s not as bad as I thought, I suppose.