by Brynne Asher
I hear Keelie’s car door slam and when I make my way to her, she’s looking to where the animals are making a ruckus and yells, “I’m home. You can hush up now!”
They didn’t listen completely, but the volume drops plenty and the donkey quiets altogether.
She shifts back to me. “What was that about? I left school early to see what was up with those two and you dragged me off. I have a job to do.” Her arms come out low and fall to her sides. “And what were you doing there?”
I look at her, this beautiful tiny woman with the sexiest hair I’ve ever seen, and since I’ve pressed my face into it, I can attest I’ve never felt softer. She’s standing here in her gravel driveway in front of a house that’s torn to bits, and I now know she has the ability to hush dogs and a donkey while standing in a sexy-as-fuck dress and boots. She doesn’t seem to be able to tame goats, but as two medium sized dogs swarm her feet, I stand here surprised and impressed.
I cross my arms. “You live here?”
“Asa.” She bites out my name. “How did you know I was there?”
“Gotta say.” I shake my head. “Never pictured you as a donkey whisperer.”
“Jasmine is old. All you have to do is acknowledge her and she’ll hush up. I’m hardly a donkey whisperer.”
I nod and keep looking around, still finding it hard to see how Keelie fits in here.
“Asa?” she calls for me again.
I look to her from the barn, which seems to be in better shape than the house. “I decided to do a little looking of my own. Told you I’m new to the full-time dad thing, and thought it would be a good idea to at least know where Emma’s friends lived, even if she’s not hanging with them right now. Went by Beth’s first and when I got to Maggie’s, I saw the girls walking up. I guess they were supposed to be sick today, huh?”
She says nothing but narrows her eyes.
“I should be glad Emma cut herself off from them. Or they cut her out—whichever it may be.”
“I still know nothing more than I did an hour ago when we spoke on the phone. But had you not interrupted me—”
“I drove by her house,” I interrupt. “Saw the girls walk up and decided to sit and watch since they looked up to no-good. Thirty minutes later, that dealer drove up and you interrupted the handoff.”
Keelie’s face falls a bit. “So, he is a dealer? What did you see?”
“I didn’t see anything, but I’d bet my right arm he wasn’t there delivering stationery or letterhead.”
She shifts her weight and sighs, worry clouding her pretty face. “No. I thought the same thing.”
“I’ll check into him.”
Her eyes get big. “You can do that? How do you know his name is really ‘Ritchie’?”
I smirk, handing her back a little bit of what she gave me yesterday. “I’m not at liberty to talk about my work, Keelie.”
She rolls her eyes.
If she only knew.
“But I will tell you what I find out. And I might not make you wait ‘til Monday,” I add.
“You won’t?” Seems I’ve surprised her again.
“You think I want that shit in school with my kids?” I ask. “I might be new to the full-time parenting gig, but I’m not new to the ways of the world. That asshole could’ve been peddling something as simple as weed, but I’m thinking not since anyone can drive into the District to buy it now. My guess—they’re experimenting with something more. Or they were about to.”
She crosses her arms and even though she looks to the side, she doesn’t seem to be focusing on anything.
“Keelie?” I call for her.
She turns back and her voice goes soft. “You’ll let me know what you find out?”
“I said I would,” I promise and lower my voice. “You okay?”
She nods and takes in a big breath. “Yes. Sorry. It just seems this school year will never end. I do appreciate any information you can offer. I’m going to call the principal now, fill him in.”
“Give me your number.” I pull my phone out of my pocket.
She shakes her head and gives me a ghost of a smile.
“What?” I grin. “I can’t let you know what I find out without your phone number.”
She relents and I can tell she’s even a little amused.
“Gotta say. I never had to promise information about a suspected drug dealer to get a woman’s phone number before. You’re a hard sell.”
She smiles bigger. “I suppose I am.”
I make her another promise. “I’ll call you.”
She stands on her driveway looking something between amused and annoyed. “I’m not sure what to say, Asa.”
“You could high-five me, but that seems out of character. But I also didn’t expect you to have a donkey and goats. You’re a tough one to figure out.”
Her eyes get big. “Yeah? Well, I’m still trying to figure me out, too, if that makes you feel any better.”
I’m not sure what that means. But as much as I’m enjoying standing here talking to her and looking at her, even with goats wreaking havoc in the background, I need to get home before the kids do to keep an eye on Emma. “I gotta go.”
“Yes,” she agrees. “My kids will be getting off the bus in an hour.”
I lift my head, and as much as I want to touch her again, it’s a line I can’t flirt with.
Not yet anyway.
“Enjoy your Friday, Keelie.”
“You, too, Asa.”
I give her another smile before I get to my truck and see she’s typing away on her phone. The second I pull out onto the main road, I call Carson and give him all the information I have on the so-called Ritchie. It’s not much, I know, but I hope the tag will give me a lead.
I pull back into the drive of my new house. I haven’t had a house since Danielle and I split. I’ve always kept a condo in DC, but when I had the kids for more than a few days, I took them on vacations.
I groan as I think about having to make dinner and head in to wait for my kids.
Chapter 4
Shave Your Fucking Legs
Asa
“Dad. I’m out.”
Levi is standing near the garage door with his workout bag in one hand and the keys to his Jeep in the other as I come up from the basement wiping my face with a towel after working out. I have always used Crew’s gym, but I want to be with the kids more, so I set up weights and a rowing machine here.
“What’re your plans?” I ask. He graduates in two and a half months and will turn eighteen before that. He’s got his head screwed on straight, but he’s still a kid.
“Headed to the gym with the guys and then some of us are getting together at Jack’s.”
“Where does Jack live?”
He looks put-out, but tells me.
“Will Carissa be there?” I ask. He’s had a girl now for a couple months. He doesn’t bring her here often, but from what I can tell, it’s steady. I talk to him about respect, and each time he rolls his eyes like he’s heard it before, which he probably has from his mother, but I still shoot straight.
“Yeah, she’ll be there.”
“You need money?” I go on.
“I just got paid. I’m good.”
Maybe it’s the guilt in me for not being around enough when they were young, but I’ve never been stingy with my kids. They want it, I get it for them. I have the means to do it, so it’s easy. But, they’ve never taken advantage either. With spring around the corner, Levi has started back up at the golf course where he’s worked for the last year. He’ll take money if he needs it, but for the most part, he’s independent even though I still move money into his account every month.
I nod. “Home by midnight, bud.”
“I know. See ya.”
I move up the stairs to take a shower, but stop in front of Emma’s room. A room she hides out in for hours every day.
When she started this quiet shit, I let her be—gave her the space she wanted. When I started ques
tioning her, she got defensive. Her defensiveness turned into teenage petulance, which then morphed into withdrawn, sullen behavior. When I get right down to it, I’ll take defensive and complaining all day long over this reclusive shit.
This scares the hell out of me.
I lean into the wall next to her door.
Exhaling, I decide to go with my gut. I’m over it. It’s time to get her shit figured out and that’s not going to happen by letting her lay around in her room all day.
I knock and wait. When I hear her small voice, I open the door. She’s bundled up in her bed watching something on her MacBook and doesn’t even look up to me.
“It’s four o’clock. Time to get up.”
She still doesn’t give me a glance. “I’m good.”
“It’s nice out. Let’s get out and do something.”
“I’m tired.”
I shoot straight with everyone and it’s time I start doing it with her, too. “I talked to Ms. Lockhart this week.”
Her head pops up and her eyes go big.
I don’t give her a chance to speak. “I’d met her once before but didn’t know who she was. I stopped to change her tire last week.”
She starts to frown.
“She’s pretty,” I offer the understatement of the century. Keelie’s fucking gorgeous.
That finally gets a rise out of her. She sits straight up in her bed and raises her voice. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m going to take her to dinner.”
“What!” she exclaims, her voice so high I’m surprised she didn’t shatter the fucking windows.
“I’ve decided that’s happening tonight.”
“Are you crazy? You cannot date my counselor.”
I enjoy the most reaction I’ve gotten out of my daughter in months. “Sure I can.”
“No, Dad. You can’t. It’ll be embarrassing.”
“Why?” I smirk, leaning into the door jamb. “Is she a bitch at school?”
“What?” She shakes her head a little. “No, not at all. She’s super cool and everyone who has another counselor wishes she was theirs.”
“Then it won’t be embarrassing.”
“Dad!”
“Get up and get ready. You’re going to dinner with us,” I inform her.
She gasps. “I am not going to dinner with you and Ms. Lockhart!”
“Your choice.” I reach for her door handle. “You staying home, burrowed in bed is a surefire way to guarantee we talk about you all night. She said she’s got little kids, so I assume they’ll be coming, too. You tag along—we’ll talk about the weather. You stay home—we’ll talk about you. I’m leaving in an hour.”
She starts to scramble out from under her covers in desperation. “Dad, you can’t—”
I don’t give her a chance to finish and slam the door as I announce, “I’m getting in the shower. Be there or be talked about.”
“Dad!” she yells again, but this time it’s drawled out into a million syllables.
When her door flies open to protest my plans, I’m in the process of shutting mine from across the hall. “See you in an hour.”
The last thing I see is my beautiful daughter standing in her bedroom doorway. Her chestnut hair is disheveled, she’s wearing pajamas that hang on her more than they used to from the weight loss she couldn’t afford, and her green eyes look tired. She’s a ghost of who she was months ago.
But moments later when I hear her bedroom door slam and banging around in her private bathroom, I smile.
I have no idea if pissing off my teenage daughter will work out in the end, but I’m sick of doing nothing.
And bonus. I’ll get to see Keelie in the process.
*****
We’re on our way to Keelie’s. Emma hasn’t spoken one word.
But she’s out of the house. Score one for me.
“I have to tell you something before we get there,” I announce to the silent cab of my truck.
She says nothing but shifts in her seat. When I look over, she’s scowling out the window at the passing woods. She took a shower and threw on jeans and a hoodie, but her hair is thrown up and still half wet.
I keep on as if she asked me to. “Ms. Lockhart doesn’t know we’re coming.”
When I glance over, she’s staring at me, this time with her mouth open. She whispers, “Are you serious?”
“Yup.”
“Are you serious?” she repeats, this time in a yell.
“Yup.”
She flops back into her seat and shakes her head. “I cannot believe this. Are you trying to kill me? Seriously. Just kill me. Tear me up and rip me to shreds. This is so embarrassing! I’m going to have to see her at school and she’s going to know my dad’s a freak.” Her eyes shift back to me. “You’re a freak. Who does shi—, I mean, stuff like this?”
I look back to the road and tip my head, wondering that same thing.
“Do you always do stuff like this?” she asks.
I throw her a frown. “No.”
She leans her head back and closes her eyes. “It’s like you’re desperate. That’s even more embarrassing. I should’ve let you talk about me all night. This is going to be miserable.”
“Don’t be dramatic. I told her I was taking her to dinner, she just doesn’t know it’s tonight.”
“It’s even worse than I thought,” she groans. “Maybe she’ll flat out turn you down and we can go home. I’m hiding in the truck. There’s no way I’m going to be present when my school counselor tells you to take a hike.”
“She’s not going to tell me to take a hike,” I promise, though at this point, I just hope she’s home. For some reason, I have a feeling she will be since she hates Saturdays, but who knows. I’m just glad I got Emma out of the house. “And you’re not hiding. She’s got kids—you need to get out and speak to some other humans for a change.”
She doesn’t have a chance to argue because I pull into Keelie’s drive and Emma sits up straight to look around. “Ms. Lockhart lives here?”
“I thought the same thing.” I throw it in park. The animals are making just as much of a commotion as yesterday, but today there’s a little girl added to the mix with miniature goats running all around her. She’s a little version of Keelie with lighter hair.
I climb out of my truck. “Come on. Don’t be rude.”
Even though our arrival has roused the animals, it doesn’t deter the child. Juggling what looks to be a baby goat in her arms, she somehow manages the gate and starts walking toward us. “Who are you?”
I put my hands on my hips and look down at her. “I’m Asa, a friend of your mom’s. What’s your name?”
“Saylor.” She struggles with the wiggling goat. It almost frees itself, but she holds firm. “This is Buffy.”
Emma must have remembered her manners, because when I look over, there’s a ghost of a smile on her face as she looks down at Keelie’s daughter with the goat. I almost have to do a double take because it’s the first time I’ve seen anything that resembles happiness on her face in months.
“Saylor, did I hear someone drive up—”
I turn around and Keelie appears from the garage and her words catch as soon as she lays eyes on me.
Her strawberry-blonde hair is pulled back and her face is makeup free. Wearing jeans and an old, oversized green t-shirt that advertises my kids’ high school football team, she’s spotted with white paint from head to toe. Without any of her curves on display, she seems even smaller as she stands barefoot in her garage with a paintbrush in her hand.
Her voice is low and breathy when she finally speaks. “What are you doing here?”
Liking what I see, I feel a slow smile spread across my face and announce, “Dinner.”
“Dinner?”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Yeah, dinner. I thought you might have your kids, so I brought Emma.”
She shakes her head and her eyes shoot to Emma, trying to find her words. “Yes, Emma. Hi. H
ow are you?”
Emma shrugs and stuffs her hands in the front pockets of her hoodie and mumbles, “I mean, I’ve been less embarrassed, that’s for sure.”
Keelie gives Emma a small but genuine smile. “I can only imagine.”
“Mom!” Another voice comes from around the corner. “I’m hungry. When are we gonna hav—”
A boy appears and stops in his tracks when he sees us. Bigger than his sister, he has Keelie’s deep blue eyes, but he’s dark headed.
Keelie sighs. “Guys, this is Mr. Hollingsworth and his daughter, Emma. She’s one of my students. They just stopped by to say hi, but they’re leaving.”
“I’m hungry,” Saylor adds as her goat squeals.
“So am I,” I announce. “Where should we go to dinner?”
“We’re not going to dinner,” Keelie argues.
“Brooklyn Brothers!” Saylor sings, making her goat shriek even louder. “Pizza!”
“No—” Keelie tries again.
“Pizza sounds good,” the boy adds.
“It’s decided then. We’re going for pizza,” I say and offer my hand to her son. “I’m Asa.”
Forcing himself to move forward, he gives me his for a small shake. “Um…I’m Knox.”
“Good to meet you, Knox.” I look back to Keelie, whose eyes are wide. “Clean up your paint brush and we’ll go.”
She frowns and looks down at herself. “I’m covered in paint.”
She’s not lying. She even has some in her hair and on her cheek. “Get cleaned up. We’ll wait.”
“You wanna come see the rest of my goats?” I look down to see Saylor talking to Emma.
Emma shrugs. “I guess.”
I clap my hands once, causing Keelie to jerk. “It’s settled. You go get ready and we’ll hang out with the animals.”
Keelie looks down at herself again before glaring up at me shaking her head.
“Can you hurry, Mom? I’m starving,” Knox pleads as he moves past us toward the barn. “Come on, Saylor. You need to put Buffy back before you drop her.”
Saylor follows her brother, and it shocks me when Emma follows them both.
