by Freya Barker
“He’s got Charlie’s car and food. He’ll surface when he’s ready.”
“Pizza isn’t breakfast food,” I sputter.
“If you’re a twenty-year-old kid it is,” Roar claims.
I run water over the dishes and squirt detergent in the sink, when I feel him walk up behind me. He brushes the hair away from my neck and presses his lips to the sensitive skin behind my ear. It sends a current over my skin that leaves my nipples achingly pebbled.
“Honey...” I sigh, not sure whether it’s a plea to stop or to continue. The deep chuckle against the shell of my ear is not helping.
“I like it,” he says straightening up, and I feel the immediate loss of his heat.
“What?”
I’m playing coy, knowing full well he likely took note of my hard nipples, as he doesn’t really miss much, but his reply is a surprise.
“The way your body responds to just a little touch. But I really like when you call me that.”
“What—honey?” I ask, turning to face him.
“Yeah,” he drawls, a look of contentment on his face. “I like that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I concede with a smile, putting my hand in the middle of his chest and leaning in for a kiss.
He covers my hand with his as he kisses me back, sliding it down over his stomach, to the hard bulge behind his fly.
“My dick likes it, too.”
Roar
That fucking picture of a little, chubby girl, her tongue peeking out between her lips as she’s reading a book on her father’s lap is messing with me.
So innocent, so blindly trusting that her daddy had her back.
I felt the same trust from her last night, as she sat beside me and took me on a guided tour of her past.
Christ.
There are times I wish it was easier for me to say the words I feel, instead of scribbling them down on scraps of paper. Somewhere between my brain and my mouth, they tend to get mangled. So more often than not, I say nothing, gathering them up throughout the day until a single thought floats out above the rest—and that one I write down. Jars full of them. Years of thoughts, memories, and feelings, reduced to random scratches on bits of paper.
“Roar?” Matt’s head sticks out of the side door, waving my phone. “It’s ringing.”
I drop the large shard of windowpane I just managed to pull free from its frame in the bucket at my feet and reach over to take it from him.
“Yeah?”
“Prosecutor brought down charges,” Bill announces. “Thompson’s not going anywhere for a while. We found evidence in yesterday’s search of his house, that he may have blackmailed the previous owners into selling him their property at a ridiculous price. So there’ll likely be more charges coming down. Tell your girl she can rest easy, he may not be talking, but his house of cards is coming down, one way or another.”
“Good to know,” I say with some relief. “Is anything else required of her?”
“Prosecutor’s office will likely get in touch with her at some point, but that could be a while.”
“Sounds good. Anything else?” I want to know as I watch Leelo round the corner at the back of the house. She was on the dock with a cup of coffee, needing some Zen time to let her mind settle. Her words, not mine.
“Nope, but I’m off in an hour and a half and am coming over with Travis to help put those windows in. I just saw him at Tim’s and he says the truck is on its way.”
“Not gonna say no.”
“I figured as much,” he fires back.
“Asshole,” I grumble, but I do it grinning.
“Yeah,” he drawls, a smile in his voice. “But I’m your asshole.”
Leelo slips her arm around my waist just as I end my call.
“Who are you calling an asshole at ten in the morning?”
“Bill,” I tell her, slipping my phone in my back pocket before wrapping her up in my arms. “He’s always an asshole, but especially so at the end of an overnight shift.”
“Don’t be mean,” she scolds. “He probably needs his sleep. He didn’t sleep the night before either.”
“I know. Yet he’s still got it in his head that he’s coming straight here to help install the windows.”
“For real? But that’s so nice.”
I grin into her smiling face, knowing that the next words from my mouth are going to wipe the smile right off.
“I know, especially since he’s bringing your good friend, Travis.”
I chuckle as I watch a frown start between her eyebrows.
“You’re kidding right?”
“Afraid not.”
“Asshole.”
I laugh as she wiggles out of my hold and stomps off inside, throwing me the bird before she lets the storm door slam shut behind her.
-
“Add a shim on that top corner there, Matt, it’s still off by a hair.”
I hand him the small strip of wood.
We were able to replace just the glass in most of the windows, except the large one in the living room, overlooking the water in the back. Matt is the one who suggested putting a new window in there. The new ready to install frame, with double-paned glass, would help keep down the cost of heating in the winter, with the way the winds can blow off the lake.
With the window now plumb, it takes only seconds to fill the remaining gaps with foam insulation before we finish off the inside framing. I hand Matt—who is still standing on the ladder—the moulding for the top, when I notice he’s looking over his shoulder, his eyes focused on something beyond the open door to the restaurant. He’s down the ladder and out the door before the sound of raised voices reaches my ears, and then I’m tearing out after him.
I don’t see them at first, hidden by the bulk of a brand new, shiny, GMC Sierra Denali. A typical city boy’s idea of penis enhancement. Safe to bet the owner is lacking in the schlong department. It never fails; it’s always the smallest guys who drive the biggest trucks.
When I round the front end, I find that Matt has already joined in the confrontation between Leelo and some penny-loafered asshole. So he’s not quite as short as I thought, but judging by the formfitting shirt and too-tight-to-be-comfortable pair of jeans he is wearing, he isn’t hiding much else.
So this must be David, judging by the way Matt edges his way between his father and his mother, drawing the man’s obvious ire to him. I knew I liked that kid for a reason.
Rather than jump in, which would be my normal response, I instead lean my shoulder against the fender, and let Matt sort this out while I listen in. Something goes wrong, I can always move fast.
“What the fuck, Dad? What the hell are you here for?”
“What kind of question is that? Your idiot mother gets it into her crazy head she wants to move to the boonies, where, might I point out, she is clearly failing, not that I expected anything else, only to drag you down with her? You want me to stand by and let that happen?”
It takes everything out of me not to wipe his sissy metrosexual ass all over the parking lot, but I want to give Matt a chance.
“Get lost, Dad. You come here and give off on Mom, when it’s me you’re mad at, just like always. You’re an asshole!”
“Don’t you talk to me like that.”
“Why not? You’re the one who taught me!”
I watch as Leelo plants her forehead between Matt’s shoulder blades, both in support and perhaps an attempt to help him keep his cool.
“Son,” he says, in a clear attempt to calm the waters, although by the stubborn set of Matt’s shoulders, I’m not sure it has any effect. “You walk away from a future many a boy your age would gladly sign for, of course I’m going to be worried. You pack up and disappear without a word and don’t answer my calls, of course I have to come to make you see reason.”
“Are you for real?” Matt hisses, leaning forward to the point where Leelo is physically holding him back. “I didn’t disappear without a word, which you well know
, since you’re the one who held open the door to make sure my ass was walking out. As usual though, you’ve chosen to rewrite fucking history, so that you come out the innocent victim. And don’t even pretend that it’s my well-being you are concerned with, because I know that fucking snitch of a bank manager called you the minute I got off the phone with him. Go home, Dad. I’m making a life here and there’s dick-all you can do about it.”
I’m so impressed with the kid; I almost miss the hot glare the asshole is sending my way. I raise my eyebrow in challenge.
“Who the fuck are you?” he barks, trying to come around Matt, who sidesteps to block him, but I take it as an invitation to join the discussion.
Walking up, I lightly tap Matt on the shoulder to let him know to step aside, and make sure I tuck Leelo safely under my arm.
“Who is this bozo, Lilith?”
She just looks up at me with a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and places a proprietary hand on my stomach.
“David, meet Roar, my—”
“Are you kidding me?” he interrupts rudely. “Not wasting any time fucking the local handyman for favours now, are you? Although, you might’ve saved it for someone with balls—this one doesn’t appear too eager to come to your defense, leaving a boy to do a man’s work.”
That triple stab signals the end of my patience.
“Few things,” I finally say, working hard to keep my voice level. “Matt here may only be twenty, but in the past five minutes has proven to be more of a man than you ever were or will be, during the course of your miserable life.” The weasel opens his mouth to speak, but I snap my fist up, index finger out just a hair from his nose, effectively shutting him right the fuck up. “Next, you must be the dumbest fucker on the face of this earth to let this woman here walk out of your life. She has more balls than you’d even know what to do with, but perhaps that’s why you couldn’t hack it—maybe you knew all along she was your superior in every way that counts and simply wasn’t man enough to keep up.” I ignore the barely contained snort coming from Matt, because I’m on a fucking roll here. “And finally, the only reason I stood back and let these two handle you, is because there’s not a doubt in my mind that either one of them could wipe the fucking forest with your skinny ass.”
I can tell most of the fire has gone out of him as his eyes flick from his son, to me, and to the woman he discarded, but as usual, someone cornered has no choice but to come out swinging and this time he aims for Matt.
“Good thing I have one child who takes after me with common sense and some brains. One who isn’t destined to become a loser like his mother.”
I use the index finger I’ve been waving under his nose to poke him in the chest once, hard, to get his attention.
“You don’t deserve any of them, and I believe you’ve been asked to leave politely, but let me make sure you understand clearly.”
I lean in, my nose almost touching his.
“Get the fuck out of here. Fuck...off!”
TWENTY-SEVEN
I never wanted more—until she made me want to give her more.
Leelo
I hadn’t even been all that surprised when David showed up.
Part of me had been expecting it ever since Matt arrived. The phone calls had just been the warm up for the main event. He never could stand being ignored and that’s what Matt and I had been doing after that first call.
The contrast between the two men was never as clear. David would demand attention with his air of superiority and his temper, mostly to compensate for what he lacks in charisma and confidence. Roar doesn’t need to yell or throw attitude, he could stay silent and his mere presence would still claim any attention he needed. He has no need to yell; because his quietly spoken words deliver all the impact he is looking for.
David may scoff at the other man’s rough exterior, and clearly jumped to the conclusion he was dealing with some backward hick, but the truth is, with his unkempt beard, sleeveless flannel shirt, ripped jeans, and old work boots, Roar is keenly intelligent and has more class in his pinky than David’s shiny truck and carefully put together ensemble could buy.
“You okay?” Roar’s arm comes around me as David’s truck speeds over the gravel, almost spinning out when he makes the turn onto the road and leaving a trail of dust billowing in the air.
I could see the struggle on David’s face when Roar told him to take a hike. He speared me with a dirty look before turning to Matt and shaking his head. Matt turned on his heels and marched right around the house. By the time I looked back, David was already getting in his truck while Roar calmly looked on.
I’m sure it’s killing my ex to know he was bested by a man he considers beneath him, but who is clearly superior.
In every fucking way.
“I’m good,” I tell him, grabbing the hand he has draped on my shoulder and pulling him toward the restaurant, or what’s left of it. “Not wasting another thought on him. We’ve got better things to do.”
-
Yesterday, Patti and her crew made piles on the stainless steel counter in the kitchen of everything that survived. Mostly utensils, pots and pans—stuff that doesn’t readily break—but there were also some linens, some china, and glassware. I’m cleaning and packing everything in the large plastic tubs Matt went and picked up this morning to keep it safe. I’ll stack the bins in the shed, where the washers and dryer used to be. I haven’t even had a chance to look at new ones. Not with this persistent shitstorm raining down on me.
The guys’ trucks were hauled off on a large CAA flatbed truck for repairs, new tires, and windows, and may not be ready for a few days. So between us, we just have my Jeep for transportation, a borrowed cottage for Matt, and a warm spot in Roar’s bed for me. Can you say up shit creek?
You’d think I’d be ready to throw in the towel. I mean, this kind of bad luck surely can’t be normal. Oddly, the thing that would once have sent me over the edge, David’s derision, seems to have the adverse effect now. It’s driving me forward with determination to make my dream a reality, no matter what other calamities lay ahead.
It’s ridiculous how calm I am.
“Where’s Matt?” Roar asks, as he sticks his head around the door.
“My guess, he’s sitting on the dock cooling down.” I close the bin I was working on and shove it to the end of the counter. “I’ll go get him, if you wouldn’t mind putting this in the shed in the meantime?”
I let the storm door slam shut behind me, the familiar squeal of the spring putting a little smile on my face. It’s warm, as it has been most of the summer so far. Very little rain has fallen and fire hazard warnings went from moderate to high along the roads. There have been some fires, small ones, mostly started by stupid people who toss their cigarette butts out of the window or don’t cover off their campfires at the end of the night, but nothing major, and nothing close. Still, having such a large body of water nearby is a safe feeling.
As I suspected, Matt is lying on his back on the floating dock, his feet dangling in the water. His boots are standing next to him with his shirt on top. He’s probably trying to get some colour on that white chest of his. He has his forearm covering his eyes, and doesn’t move when I start walking down the dock toward him, but I’m sure he knows I’m there.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” he says when I kick off my sneakers and sit down beside him, sticking my toes in the water as well.
“For what, Bud? You got nothing to be sorry for. Your father is an ass. Always was and I’m afraid he always will be.”
“I’m sorry for taking so long to see it. For giving you such a hard time, when I should’ve been protecting you.” He lifts his arm away and I see his eyes swimming in tears.
I lean over and kiss his forehead, before turning to the water, looking out at the raw beauty of this place I’ve chosen to make my home, while I search for words.
“No, Matt. That’s not for you to be sorry for. It’s not your job to look after me, it’
s mine to look after you, and let’s be honest; I didn’t do such a great job of that myself. What you don’t do, is let things that you had no control over in your past, dictate how you are today, or will be in the future. You learn from it, and then you let it go. We all have to let this go. I’m not sure what your Dad thought he would accomplish by driving all the fucking way up here, but we’re not going to let his actions today, or in the past, have impact on the path we’ve chosen. Me on mine, and you on yours.”
Matt is quiet beside me and I let him be. Give him time to process what I’m telling him. That this is his life. That the only person who should be in the driver’s seat is him.
I feel a tug on my arm as he pulls me down on the dock beside him. Curling his arm around my neck, he kisses the side of my head.
“I like you, Mom,” he says, and I’m happy to hear a smile in his voice. “You’re pretty smart for an old broad.”
That earns him a sharp elbow in his side.
“I like you too, Bud.”
-
I’m not sure how long we lay there, bobbing on the water and watching a few clouds drift by above, when a familiar heavy tread sounds on the dock and a familiar voice pipes up.
“Room for one more?”
A hand with three cold, dripping bottles of beer comes into my line of vision, and I automatically reach for one as I sit up. Matt grabs one too as Roar kicks off his dusty boots, strips off his socks, rolls up his jeans, and sits down next to me, sticking his feet in the water as well.
“Doesn’t matter how hot the summers can get at times, this water always stays cool,” he mutters, wrapping his lips around the beer bottle and taking a swig. I scoot closer and lean my head against his shoulder. “You guys good?”
“We’re good.” I tilt my head back a little and smile up at him.
“Yeah,” Matt adds before he continues. “I’m thinking of putting in an offer on your mother’s property.”
