HDU #2: Dirt

by India Lee

  “I don’t know. Buying it for Logan even though he isn’t here,” he laughed.

  Amanda snorted. “I’m so confused.”

  “Campbell’s soup was a pretty big staple of my childhood because Logan discovered that if you dumped a can of it into a pan with three bags of whatever was on sale that week, you could feed two growing boys for four days. On less than five bucks, which was about…” Liam squinted. “A quarter of of our weekly budget for food.”

  Amanda felt her eyebrows lift under the bill of her cap, grateful that Liam couldn’t see. Piece by piece, she was beginning to put together the fact that he had grown up without much money. She had never considered it before. The prospect of Liam ever having been in a financial struggle was hard for her to imagine for some reason. “So, basically a week’s worth of casserole,” she said, distracting from her surprise.

  Liam laughed, scratching his capped, hooded head. “Yeah. But I for some reason didn’t realize it was casserole till middle school. I just thought it was something Logan invented because he was a fucking culinary genius.”

  “So you never got sick of it?”

  “By freshman year I wanted to throw myself out of a window if I saw a can of soup.”

  Amanda burst out laughing as they wandered absently in the cereal aisle, Liam plucking boxes from the shelves only to gaze at them for a few seconds and put them back. She smiled quietly to herself as she watched him. He’d look almost like any ordinary shopper if he weren’t built like a superhero. She couldn’t help noting how small cereal boxes looked when he held them. “So what was the next solution?” she asked, throwing a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch into the basket. Liam glanced at it, nodding with serious approval.

  “There wasn’t really a solution. Logan spent a month trying to figure out some new recipe that would last but we were teenagers by then and we played football and were over six feet tall so we required about eight pounds of food per meal.”

  “Naturally.”

  His eyes gleamed from beneath the bill of his cap as he recalled his memory. “Logan ended up teaching himself how to cook. And he got a part-time job once he turned sixteen so he could buy good shit every once in awhile. Steak. Fresh produce. Cheese that was made of actual cheese.”

  “There’s cheese that isn’t made out of cheese?”

  “Yes. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

  “Kind of gross.” She bit her lower lip as they made their way to the checkout lanes, feeling her immense curiosity fighting her tact. It was only a matter of time before the former triumphed. She grimaced prematurely at herself before blurting out her question. “So, where were your parents throughout all this?”

  Liam eyed her for a few unreadable seconds as they unloaded their basket onto the counter. Amanda felt her heart pound but finally, he broke into his usual smirk. “You don’t have to look terrified, it’s not some traumatic subject.”

  “Oh.” Amanda exhaled with both relief and embarrassment, forcing a smile at the ponytailed cashier who appeared to squint at them with a hint of recognition. Pursing her lips shut, Amanda fell silent, hoping Liam would follow suit. Please don’t make small talk, his voice is completely recognizable, she prayed silently — but of course, to no avail.

  “Don’t think I’ve seen y’all before. Just move into town?”

  Shit, Amanda cursed. But without missing a beat, Liam answered. “Yup, right over on Verbena.”

  Amanda gaped at him, though for a different reason than the cashier. It was his voice, which had adopted a Southern twang so smooth and natural that she wasn’t sure whether to be thrown off or utterly charmed. It was, she realized, an adaptation of the accent of his Soldier costar, Cameron Troy, who was from somewhere in Texas. Amanda glanced at the cashier, chewing on her lip as the girl’s surprised eyes narrowed once again with further suspicion.

  “Wowee. My dad’s been an airman for fourteen years and he sure couldn’t afford one of those houses.”

  “Dang, well he’s got a good ten years on me,” Liam said good-naturedly, rubbing the stubble on his chin and making a scratchy sound. Amanda could only watch the conversation in silent awe.

  “I hope you don’t mind my asking then, but how the heck’d’cha afford one of those houses? They’ve been on the market for God knows how long ‘cause who’s gonna pay two million dollars for a place in Bellevue Heights, I mean really?”

  Liam laughed — a rich, even-lower-than-usual laugh that made Amanda bite her growing smile back. “I guess you’d hafta ask my wife that question ‘cause it sure wasn’t my money.”

  The cashier raised her eyebrows at Amanda, her suspicion finally melting into something of genuine curiosity. “Wow. Whattayou do, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Amanda stared at the girl before shooting a glare at Liam, who looked at her expectantly. But underneath his casual expression was about the most maddeningly mischievous glimmer in his eyes. I’m going to kill you, I hope you realize that, Amanda thought, willing him to hear her.

  “Well…” she started nervously, though it sounded more like she was saying “whale.” Oh dear God, what kind of accent am I even doing? “I can’t take all the credit… I had a bit of an inheritance and I ended up starting my own business with that money after graduating college,” she answered, mostly in one long exhale. With fire in her eyes, she turned to face Liam, whose lips were flattened into a smile that no doubt contained the most smug and pleased laughter in the world.

  “Oh, that’s so nice! A businesswoman. Where’s your accent from though, by the way? Sounds different from his.”

  “Oh, um…” Screw you, condensed soup, get me out of here, Amanda groaned inwardly as the girl took her sweet time scanning each and every can separately.

  With a grin on his face, Liam started bagging their groceries. “She’s from Texas like me but…” he trailed off, shaking his head and already laughing at himself for not having thought his answer through.

  “I went to school at Northwestern,” Amanda felt herself interrupt. “And then I started my business over in New York City and somewhere down the line, my accent got all sorts of muddled. I didn’t even think I had any twang left, actually. My friends in New York say I sound just like them now.”

  “Oh no, honey, you definitely have a twang.”

  “Do I?” Amanda beamed, shooting a satisfied look at Liam, who pressed the end of his fist to his mouth in attempts to hide his giant grin. “Well. Guess it’s only right that I match my sweet husband.” She cleared her throat to suppress the snort trying to escape the back of her throat. “So, um, how much will that be?”

  “Oh. Sixty-eight dollars and fifty-two cents, please.” The cashier stared down at their groceries as she bagged them. “Wow. Y’all sure bought a lot of stuff.”

  “Mm-hm. Gonna cook a big ol’ dinner tonight.” Amanda whipped out her wallet, eyeing Liam as she sifted through her bills. “I got it, honey. You can’t afford this.”

  Liam raised his eyebrows at Amanda with genuine surprise before shaking his head. “Wish you wouldn’t say it in front of the lady though.” He slipped his hand up the back of her neck, lightly tugging on a fistful of her hair. “S’alright. You’ll make it up to me later.”

  Amanda shot him a look. “Now look who’s being inappropriate,” she whispered, grabbing the bags from the blushing cashier before giving her a look of feigned apology. “Excuse him, he can never behave himself in public,” she said, her accent mutating into some bizarre British-Texan hybrid as she rushed out of the store, Liam and his normal laughter trailing behind her.

  ~

  With her plush white towel wrapped around her body, Amanda knelt over the duffel bag that Liam had packed. Amanda smiled as she pulled out all the new articles of clothing that he had purchased for her for the trip — all stretchy, gauzy raglans and Lululemon yoga pants since she had mentioned weeks ago that she intended on wearing only T-shirts and leggings on her birthday weekend.

  Of course he forgets to pack a b
ra, Amanda laughed to herself. Shrugging, she pulled on a pair of cropped black fold-overs and the least sheer raglan that she could find, gathering her wet hair over her shoulders and in front of her chest. Whatever Liam was cooking downstairs was beginning to smell too good for her to care about what she was wearing.

  A slow smile crept upon her lips as she made her way down the spiral staircase, quieting her step upon approaching the kitchen and the sounds of cooking — running water, sizzling, clanking pots and pans. Biting her lip back, she crept up to the open space, tucking her body behind one of the white pillars and watching Liam cook with the type of fascination that most people reserved for wildlife tours. His plain T-shirt somehow looked like chef whites as she watched him. You have got to be kidding me, she laughed inwardly, studying him as he stood at the marble counter, his fingertips carefully tucked as he chopped a head of red cabbage, his cutting hand bringing the chef’s knife up and down so rapidly that all Amanda could really see was a blur of silver and the perfect shredding of the reddish-purple leaves.

  “So Liam Brody cooks,” she observed with a little smile once he was finished. “Kind of surprised.” He grinned as he watched her approach the counter and pucker her lips with excitement. “‘Kind of’ being a complete understatement,” she exhaled in awe as her big eyes scanned the array of home cooked food. There were sides of fried apples, fluffy yellow cornbread, slaw and main dishes of grilled chicken and pulled pork, both drenched in a barbecue sauce that smelled of delicious pepper and vinegar. Amanda bent over, winding her hair around her hand so she could breathe in all the aromas. “This smells incredible,” she murmured as she stood straight again, opening her eyes to see Liam wearing a smirk. She frowned. “What?”

  He bit it back. “Nothing,” he answered, though he let his gaze linger on her shirt for more than a few seconds. Amanda looked down at her raglan. It was splattered with water from her freshly washed hair and had been reduced to just about total transparency.

  “Oop.” Hastily, Amanda fanned her wet hair over her chest again, shooting Liam a narrow-eyed look as he grinned. “You forgot to pack me a bra.”

  He laughed. “‘Forgot’ isn’t exactly the word. But I should remind you that I’ve seen you completely naked before.”

  Amanda groaned at the memory. “Only because you forgot to knock.”

  “Again, not really the word.” Liam smirked as he opened the fridge, grabbing two bottles of cider with one hand and setting them onto the counter beside a bottle of Riesling and a bottle of tequila. He grinned as Amanda tilted her head curiously. “Pick your poison, birthday girl.”

  Amanda stared for a bit. Dragging her lower lip between her teeth, she reached for the tequila. Liam cocked an eyebrow.

  “It’s gonna be one of those nights?”

  She broke into a wide smile. “Oh yeah.”

  ~

  The wooden rocking chair rolling to and fro, Amanda brought her bare knees up to her chin. Beyond stuffed from dinner, they’d retreated to the front porch, a six-pack of cider sitting between their gently swaying chairs. The drink tasted like juice after the bottle of tequila that they’d emptied a third of during dinner.

  Her eyelids heavy, Amanda tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she studied Liam. He had his Air Force cap on again as he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and a bottle of cider dangling from one hand as the evening sun shone in his eyes, lighting his irises to a maple color that she’d never seen before.

  “So,” she started, narrowing her eyes at the smirk he flashed her the moment she spoke. “What?”

  “You’re going to ask about my parents,” Liam said, laughing when her cheeks flushed.

  “I… we just never finished our conversation at the supermarket.”

  “It’s fine. I told you it’s not some traumatic story. I just find it funny that you’re so curious.”

  Amanda gave a defensive little shrug. “You saw Merit and my neighbors and my family. You have an idea of how I grew up. I just want an idea of how you did.”

  He nodded but gave an inquisitive frown. “Why?”

  Amanda flashed him a look. “I don’t mean to shock you but you’re my boyfriend,” she said. “And sometimes couples like to get to know each other.” Her own mouth formed a smirk as he shook his head at her, fighting his laughter. “I understand that you might not know that though.”

  “Ah, shit, you went for it.”

  “I’m kidding. I’m sure you got to know some of your past girlfriends.”

  “Not really, no.”

  “Right. Last time I give you the benefit of the doubt.”

  Liam’s lips twisted up. “So what exactly do you want to know about my parents, smart ass?”

  Amanda giggled. “I don’t know. Just… what they were like in general when you were growing up?” she asked, tilting her head curiously, her cheek resting on the top of her knees. Liam watched as her damp hair tumbled down the front of her shins. He took a long drink of his cider, his eyes still on her auburn tresses as they blew forward in the wind.

  “I grew up in a single-parent household. One of those stories.”

  “Just Mom?” Amanda asked.

  “Just Dad,” Liam corrected. He eyed her as her lashes fluttered for a surprised second. “She left when I was barely two so it was just how I grew up. I don’t have any memory of her, really. The memories I do have might not even be mine, they might just be details Logan told me growing up that just… manifested themselves in my head.”

  “Like what?”

  “She was tall. Blonde. Cheerful all the time, really comfortable with everyone, talked a mile a minute. Kind of like Logan.”

  “So you were more like Dad?”

  Liam scratched his capped head as he stared back out into the sun, the corners of his lips slowly curving up into a big laugh. “I fucking hope not.”

  Amanda giggled, taking a swig of her drink. “Well, what was he like?”

  Liam shrugged. “Wasn’t home a lot. Worked two jobs. Didn’t get paid a whole lot for either.”

  “Oh,” Amanda cooed with a frown.

  “Spent the rest of his time at bars, on the prowl.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Oh.”

  Liam gave a low chuckle. “It wasn’t like that. I mean it kind of was but he wasn’t looking for one-night stands, he was on the prowl for a wife to help him raise his kids.” The smirk on Liam’s face was tinged with incredulousness as he shook his head. “He had no idea what to do with us for as long as we lived with him. Couldn’t cook, wouldn’t clean, was… fucking awful at helping with homework,” he laughed. “I remember him telling me the capital of the U.S was Seattle.”

  Amanda burst out laughing but caught herself. “Sorry,” she grimaced.

  “No, you should laugh. Especially since he still probably thinks it’s Seattle.”

  Amanda cocked her head, biting back her grin. “Where does he live now?”

  “Vermont, still. With his latest wife. Hopefully the last one.” Off Amanda’s reaction, Liam gave a short laugh despite the lack of a smile on his face. “He married three times while I was in high school. Which is saying something considering I dropped out at fifteen.”

  “Fifteen?” Amanda repeated, her head shooting up and her posture darting straight with surprise. Her cheeks flushed when Liam laughed at her. “I’m sorry that’s just… earlier than I would’ve imagined. Why fifteen?”

  “You know what, before I answer this, tell me what you were like in high school.”

  Amanda blinked at him. “Dear God, no.”

  Liam grinned, taking his cap off and fixing his gaze on her. “Tell me.”

  She eyed his intent look, biting the corner of her lower lip with a wince. “Fine. I was a straight-B student who lived in Megan’s shadow, who was convinced that the greatest thing about herself was being lucky enough to be friends with someone so pretty and glamorous.” She peered up at Liam with narrowed eyes, bracing herself for his smirk but there was none. Twir
ling a wavy lock around her finger, Amanda looked down at her feet. “Basically defined myself by being her best friend. Actually thought I’d done good for myself by carving out a role as her little lapdog since at least I got to be near her. I never really thought I could be more than that and the saddest part was that I didn’t mind. At least not until she and Brandt… slept with each other and I had no one. That was what it took for me to realize I didn’t want to be her sidekick anymore. Which I realize is sad.”

  Liam nodded, silent for a moment. “Better late than never,” he said. “Timing makes all the difference. You wouldn’t be where you are now if you’d realized things earlier. You might not have been in New York, you might not have had the chance to show the world what you can do.”

  Amanda considered it. “True,” she agreed quietly.

  “Would’ve been nice for you to to stick up to Megan sooner but it’s not like those years you spent in her shadow went to waste. You learn from the bad times, the lessons make the good times.” Liam’s lips curved up. “Plus, you needed her to hate me.”

  “Very true. Not that I wouldn’t have material to hate you without her,” Amanda giggled, taking his Air Force cap and plopping it onto her head. “Womanizing douchelord.”

  Liam shook his head with a sneer. “You personally made that one up, didn’t you?”

  “It just sounded so right. Especially after you dumped that bikini model for her younger sister.”

  Liam immediately bit his lower lip to suppress what she hoped was a sheepish grin. “Yeah.” He paused. “That was fucked up.”

  Amanda’s brows shot up at his honesty. She couldn’t help bursting into laughter. “You’re telling me, asshole. What happened there? That was a side of you that I never got the pleasure of meeting.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Amanda chewed on her lip, making a face. “Didn’t you… feel bad doing that to people?” she asked, immediately self-conscious of her question the minute it left her lips. It was a fair enough thing to ask but the way she phrased it sounded so simplified and childish. She blamed the tequila.