I went upstairs to check on Danny for a minute only to find him passed out cold on his old bed. The thing was too small for him, I thought, just as it always had been, leaving his bare feet to hang over the edge of it. He had his head shoved halfway beneath the pillow, his face turned to the side towards the wall that connected to my room.
I smiled as I looked down at him, thinking of how cute he looked right then, how young and how much it reminded me of Danny as a kid in high school.
I probably stood there and watched him for the better part of ten minutes before I finally turned away and headed back down the stairs to help out my dad with Dinner.
Dad was in the kitchen already starting on somethings. “How’s Danny doing?” dad asked when he spotted me heading down from the stairs and in through the door frame.
I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly, trying not to let on just how long I’d been staring at him or that I’d been thinking of him in terms that were not strictly familial. “He was asleep, but he looked like he was doing fine. I’ll bet he’s just tired.” I didn’t mention that being tired might have something to do with me keeping him up much of the night last night.
“Good. I hope he’s comfortable. We’ll get him all better, you and me,” Dad said, sounding like he was plotting a great caper or something with his right-hand man rather than talking about getting his football playing son well.
“I’m sure he is,” I told dad. I surveyed the ingredients scattered along the counter tops and put my hands on my hips. “Can I help with something?”
Dad nodded. “You bet, honey.”
We spent the afternoon in the kitchen getting things ready for dinner. We talked about good old times and a little about New York—a very little. I was determined to keep my dad in the dark as far as my working as a bartender. Those jobs were dangerous he would tell me, and he wouldn’t be entirely wrong, either.
Dad asked about how my music was going and I tried to sound cheery and upbeat. In all fairness, it wasn’t going badly. I was really making headway, but when it came right down to it, it was a hard vocation to break into. There were thousands of thousands of young girls just like me, just as pretty—or prettier—with just as much talent, working just as hard. And maybe they were going to make it or maybe I was or maybe we all would, but it wasn’t very likely.
The music business was a fickle thing and it picked things out that the rest of us weren’t even paying attention to. It made it hard not to give up, but I was still going strong and I was still just as determined as the day I left home.
We talked a little about Danny’s career, too, and I admitted that I was slightly worried about him.
“I mean, it’s like you said, Dad,” I continued, trying to sound like we were just having a regular conversation instead of me voicing my fears. “I don’t want him to be a twenty-something with a blown knee.”
“What are you saying then?” he asked, shoving the roast into the oven.
I shrugged, tearing up the salad into bite sized bits and adding in the tomatoes. I’d put the olives on top after they’d finished soaking in the olive oil mixture with the cheese. “I’m saying that football was great in high school and college and I know how much he loves the game, but it is only a game.”
I knew I was taking a risk in saying that and snuck a quick peek at my dad’s expression. He was a huge football fan and had been his whole life. When he figured out that Danny played when he and Selene got together, that was instantly the thing they bonded over. It was a quick, easy way for them to relate to one another and a great way for him to be active in his new son’s life. It had been easy for all of us in that way.
Dad was frowning slightly, but he didn’t look completely infuriated by my remark. “I understand where you’re coming from, honey,” he told me sincerely, his tone gentle as though coaxing a newborn. “But this isn’t just a game, not for Danny. It’s a career and more importantly, it’s a career that he loves. I don’t think it matters to him that he’s amazingly talented; he’d try just as hard if he were absolutely terrible. But he has a unique opportunity here. He can do the thing he loves, get a lot of money for it—enough to take care of himself whenever he does decide it’s time to quit—and enjoy life a little longer than some people get to. He’s living the dream and it’s his dream.”
I didn’t say anything in response to that. Grabbing the olives and the cheese, I scooped them out on top of the salad and tossed it before drizzling some balsamic vinegar on the whole thing. “I just worry,” I finally said lamely.
Dad put his hands on my shoulders, turning me to face him and offered a tender, understanding smile. “I know. And that’s alright; it means you care. But Danny isn’t the kind of guy who can sit on the sidelines in anything, and definitely not for something that means so much to him. I know this injury scared you, but you’re going to have to understand that your brother loves what he does and he’s going to push that much harder because he loves it. All we can do is support him and be there for him when things like this happen.”
I nodded and told him I understood. Which I did. I knew all of that about Danny and had for a long time, but it didn’t make things like this any easier. It made things difficult and scary and it meant that I pictured the worst kinds of outcomes imaginable.
But I reminded myself that Danny was playing a dangerous sport, but that he was good at that sport. Sure, he got an injury this time, but he’d get healed up and healthy and when he went out there the next time, he’d be more careful. Everything would be alright.
By the time we were setting the table, Danny was finally coming down the stairs. He let out a big stretch, and yawned a little, indicating that he’d just woken up.
“Hey there sleeping beauty,” Dad teased with a wink in my direction. “Did a witch put you on a sleeping spell or something?”
Danny rolled his eyes good-naturedly and said, “Ha ha. Hilarious, Dad.” He surveyed the huge spread we’d prepared while he’d slept. His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Wow. You guys have been hard at work. I feel a little bad for sleeping through it all.”
Dad waved him off immediately. “Don’t be. You need your rest and I really just wanted to have a nice family dinner. Just like old times.”
I caught Danny’s eye from across the room and at that moment I knew we were both thinking the same thing; The old times would never be the same. Not with Danny’s mom gone and this strange relationship budding between the two of us.
No, it was too late for things to be just like old times. They had changed too much for that. Still, we could have a nice family dinner.
We all sat around the table and Dad said grace. He didn’t all of the time, but for family meals like this in the evening, especially the bigger, more formal ones, he liked to do that. Remind us of where we came from, he liked to say.
We heaped food onto all of our plates, Dad’s roast absolutely amazing, and the salad good as well. We also had side dishes and bread and dad took a beer with his. Everything tasted amazing, and I suddenly was very glad we’d done all of this. Dad was right, it was important to do things like these sometimes.
Dad and Danny were talking about football—the rest of the game which the Packers had managed to win—as well as, how big the guy who ran into Danny had been. Then they were talking about cheerleaders, which I decidedly ignored, and how girls tended to fall all over Danny whenever the saw him. Dad prompted him about any long-term candidates, but Danny just shrugged his shoulder, not copping to anything.
I had kind of hoped that he would let something slip, not about me directly (neither of us wanted Dad to know of course), but maybe about a new girl in his life, someone important and long term. Someone who meant something real to him.
Of course, that was a really bad idea. If he let that out, dad would hound him until he either produced some other girl or told him the truth.
And the truth wasn’t an option.
They continued to chat, but I was only half listening now. My attention had shifted, focusi
ng more intently on Danny. His broad shoulders with those smooth, hard muscles barely contained by a shirt that was too tight. He was looking at my dad as they spoke, but time and again his eyes would dart across the table to find me.
I smiled at him and couldn’t resist. I extended my leg casually, as though this was perfectly normal and innocent until I felt the tip of my foot touch along something hard, but pliant. Danny jerked, his eyes going wide, and the only reason dad hadn’t mentioned it was that he’d glanced down at his plate just as Danny did it.
His eyes jerked over to me, but I only offered him a sweet smile.
Composing himself, he continued to talk with dad. I felt a little giddy at my success and moved my hand up higher along his leg. Thankfully the table was narrow enough and my legs were long enough that I could reach much of him without shifting awkwardly in my seat.
My foot trailing up along his calf until I hit his knee. He tried to remain calm as I continued to move, but I could see his jaw clench slightly and his hand grip his fork a little tighter. He kept his focus on dad, keeping up with the conversation, but I could tell I was affecting him. I pushed my foot up farther until it was in his lap. I slid it between his legs until I’d found his crotch.
Danny jerked a little again once I made contact, but he recovered quickly and made the movement look like he only had an itch. He and dad continued to talk, but now that I’d ventured this far, I wasn’t interested in stopping.
I applied pressure to my foot and let it slide along Danny’s pelvis. After a moment, I felt his package and how it was slowly beginning to harden.
I sucked my lower lip into my mouth and bit it, massaging Danny through his pants.
He was holding onto the fork until his knuckles were white and he looked just about ready to explode, when dad got up to grab another beer for everyone. As soon as dad’s back was turned, Danny’s eyes swiveled to find me, darkened by desire and passion. What the fuck? He mouthed, but he didn’t try to stop me when I slid my foot along him again, smiling innocently. He shook his head at me, but I could see the smile on his lips.
When dad came back, he said, “Let’s leave the plates, kiddos, and go outside. We’ll get a fire going and we can sit and talk under the stars.”
Danny and I agreed quickly and we all headed outside. It took a bit for dad to get the fire going, but no one minded. It was getting cooler at night, definitely, but I was on fire, so the night air only felt all the better. When dad finally got a good one going, he came back and sat with us on the log benches we’d set up in the place specifically for camp fires.
“Do you remember when you first tried to take Selene camping?” I asked Dad after a moment, staring at the fire.
Instantly he laughed and Danny groaned. Selene was not a good camping person, though she did fine away from the big city. She just wasn’t cut out for the sleeping on the ground or in tents.
“I do,” dad said, still smiling. “It was up at Beaver Creek near the state park. It was a good, warm summer night and I thought it would be perfect. Romantic.”
I raised an eyebrow skeptically at him. “Romantic with two kids along for the ride?”
My dad shrugged his shoulders and waved off my comment. “Oh, when you have kids, you figure out where to sneak in a little romance.”
Danny groaned, pretending to cover his ears. “I really don’t want to know.”
I laughed and dad ignored him. “Anyway, if I’d had any idea that she wasn’t interested in sleeping in tents, I never would have tried it.”
“Didn’t you discuss it with her beforehand?” I asked. They had usually been pretty good at planning.
Dad smiled ruefully, then shook his head. “No. I’d meant it as a surprise and she was so handy and after saying that she used to spend her summers at a cabin in the woods, well, I figured she’d love camping!”
“A cabin is not a tent,” Danny pointed out.
Dad shrugged. “Yes, well, home is where the heart is.”
Both Danny and I laughed at that. “What does that have to do with anything?”
We continued on like that for a while, reminiscing about Selene. She had hated camping, though she loved the wilderness and the lake and the cabins that we tried to go visit every summer. It was just that Selene liked to venture out into the wildness and then come home to a little bit of modern comfort.
After one night sleeping in a tent—or not sleeping at all, because a bear had ambled through our camp and eaten half our supplies—we had all promptly packed up our stuff and gone home. Selene refused to speak of it again, though she took our teasing about it awfully well, despite her insistence that she was angry.
She really wasn’t.
We talked about how Selene made the best damn rum cake in the world and how birthdays were especially awesome because no two were alike and she put so much effort into them. I remembered all the times she’d had to patch up my jeans, taking the time to teach me when it was clear that I didn’t know how. Danny remembered how she’d grounded him seriously only when he had really scared her by doing something stupid. (Like the time he tried to jump his dirt bike off the steep slopes of the irrigation ditch and twisted his leg the wrong way. He’d had a cast for the rest of the summer and Selene had been so mad that she made him scrub every toilet in the house every day for a month.)
It was late by the time our conversations and stories began to wind down, but no one seemed to want to go inside. It wasn’t until dad let out a huge yawn that it was pretty clear that it was time to head inside.
“I love you, kids,” he told us and hugged us each before going inside. I heard him call back to us from over his shoulder, “I’m glad to have my family home, even if only for a little while.”
For a long moment after that, both Danny and I sat there silently. I wasn’t sure if Danny was waiting, but I knew that I was. I was waiting to hear the door shut and to see the light to dad’s room go out. I was waiting for the signs that we were finally alone.
When I turned to face Danny, he was already moving towards me. His hands went around my waist and pulled me to him. I reacted instinctually, my legs opening so that I could straddle his lap. Our lips pressed together in a searing, passionate kiss that I’d spent all day waiting for. I lost myself in it as Danny’s hands went down to my hips, digging into my pliant flesh, finding the bare parts beneath my shirt and managing to nestle the tips of his fingers beneath my pants.
He pulled me harder to him and I ground against his lap, discovering what I already knew was there. I could feel his hard, long member, pressing against his pants as it tried urgently to get to me, to that warm, wet spot between my legs.
My hands wound into his hair and pulled him closer, making our kiss harder. My lips parted and his tongue darted in quickly, tasting my mouth and sucking at my own tongue.
I don’t know how far we might have gone. I don’t know if we would have done it right there in the back yard, tearing our clothes off and fucking like wild animals, but we would never find out.
“Oh my god!”
We froze. My eyes snapped open and as soon as I saw Mrs. Fieldsman standing there at the fence that separated her yard from our dad’s, I panicked. I jerked myself out of Danny’s grip, untangling myself from his lap, hurriedly, as though I’d been burned.
“Ash—” Danny tried to call to me, attempting to calm me down, and Mrs. Fieldsman tried to say something, too, but I wasn’t hearing anything. There was a roaring in my ears and all I could think about was my dad’s dark window.
How disgusted would he be with me when she told him the truth?
I couldn’t take it. Danny reached for me—and I think maybe Mrs. Fieldsman was apologizing—but I jerked away from him. I ran as fast as I could away from the whole thing and into the house.
“Ash, wait!”
He followed me in, running like the wind. I could hear him on the stairs, but I’d gotten enough of a head start, and dove into my room quickly. I slammed the door harshly behind me, loc
king it.
“Ashley, please,” I heard Danny beg through the door. “Talk to me!”
Trembling, I shook my head and sobbed, “Go away.”
Chapter Twelve
I woke up the next morning with a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. The kind of feeling that lets you know that today is going to be a bad day, a hard day. The kind of feeling that makes you want to roll over and just go back to bed, to try things again before they even had the chance to get messed up.
I couldn’t say why I felt that way; it was just intuition or something.
Forcing myself to roll out of bed, planting my feet on the floor, I remembered that I was at home. Not my home, at least not anymore, but at my dad’s place. My old bedroom looked so similar to how it had when I’d left it in high school that it was almost a little weird. Not quite a shrine, for which I was grateful, but there was definitely a clear message; home is home as long as you want it.
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