Immaterial Defense: Once and Forever #4

by Lauren Stewart

  “Wow,” Rebecca mumbled. “I really wish I hadn’t heard that.”

  I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t smile. Dominant females never smiled. Every dominant female I’d ever known had perfected their resting bitch face. And not to be arrogant or anything, mine was pretty damn good.

  My eyes stung from holding them open for so long. If this dog didn’t give in soon, I’d lose.

  “Kitty, focus.” I said it softly but firmly as if I were speaking to a toddler who didn’t want to go to bed. “Do you want to go for a walk.” No inflection at the end of the question because dominant females didn’t ask questions. They just knew. “Come here, so I can put on your leash.”

  She hesitated for one more second and then took a step toward me. Then another. And another. I didn’t react because dominant females expected results and didn’t give prizes for participation. Only success.

  Rebecca cheered silently, shaking her hands as if she were holding pompoms.

  “I think you’re winning,” Declan whispered.

  “Shut up, or I’ll put you on a leash, too.”

  His laugh was broken as he tried unsuccessfully to hold it in.

  “Now, Kitty.” I pointed at the floor just in front of me. She glanced at Declan for permission. Before he could ruin my moment, I threw a glare at him. A very dominant glare.

  Kitty trotted over to me and stood at my feet.

  When I told her to sit, she did.

  “Whoa. Sorry, Dec, but I think there’s a new alpha in town,” Rebecca said as I rubbed Kitty’s head and clipped the leash onto her collar. “Congrats.”

  I felt like I’d just won an Olympic medal in dogging. If that was actually a thing. “So, where are we going?”

  Declan shrugged. “I just got demoted. Alpha’s choice.”

  After saying goodbye to Rebecca, I led Kitty to the elevator. Declan followed.

  “Press the button, underling.”

  “Underling?” He gave me a quick kiss before following my order. “Is that a hint that you want to be on top later?”

  “It wasn’t, but that’s a good idea. Kitty, can I borrow your collar when we get back?”

  “Don’t answer that, girl,” he said as we stepped into the elevator. “I should’ve known you two would gang up on me.”

  “Yeah, you really should have.”

  As soon as we reached the street, Kitty lunged forward, practically yanking my arm out of its socket. I used my entire body weight to hold her back until she gave in and walked at my side.

  “Why’d you name her Kitty?”

  “I didn’t,” Declan said. “When I found her, she wasn’t wearing a collar. I was living with Trevor at the time, and he didn’t want to keep her. So, I spent three weeks posting flyers and calling animal control and shelters to see if anyone was looking for her. I didn’t want to take her into one of them, though. She was pretty rough looking back then—super skinny with bald patches where the vet had to shave when he fixed her up. I knew that unless someone could see what I saw in her, she wouldn’t have been adopted. I couldn’t take the chance they’d put her down. So, when I finally talked Trev into keeping her, I told him he could pick her name.”

  “Trevor picked Kitty?”

  He shook his head. “Have you ever seen the old Annie movie? The one where she calls the dog a bunch of names, and he eventually answers to Sandy?”

  “You’ve seen Annie?”

  “Hey, I thought we said no judgments.”

  “That was before you admitted to being a little girl.”

  He elbowed me gently. “Have you seen the movie or not?”

  “Probably, when I was a little girl, too.” I laughed.

  “Trust me, I’ll remember that later when we’re in a place where I can punish you.”

  “Hey!” I jumped when he swatted my ass. “Alright, alright. Continue with your story.”

  After a moment, he said, “So, just like in the movie I enjoyed so much as a little girl, Trev started saying names. Fluffy, Killer, Fido, etc.”

  “And she answered to Kitty?”

  He nodded. “My guess is that she could bare to listen to any more terrible options. But Kitty fits her—she’s independent, smart, sleeps a lot, and thinks she’s small enough to sit in my lap.” He stopped and looked at me. “Maybe I should start calling you Kitten— you’re all those things and are small enough to sit in my lap.”

  “You want to give me a pet name that is literally your pet’s name. I don’t think so.”

  My teasing stopped when I saw my mom coming out of the tiny market across the street. I ducked my head, but it was too late.

  “Sara!” she called, raising her hand before realizing it was holding a small paper bag and then lifting the other one to wave.

  Oh shit. Why was she here? This neighborhood was halfway across the city from hers. The market’s sign and window ads were all in Chinese, and my mom never cooked anything, let alone Chinese food.

  “Sara!” She quickly glanced both ways before crossing the street. I was almost a mean enough person to wish she’d get hit by a car. Almost. But if she, say...got a little bumped—just a very distracting scare, nothing broken or damaged—I’d have been okay with that.

  “I think that lady knows you,” Declan said as she dodged a car.

  “Not very well.” I looked up to see her standing in front of us, glancing from me, to Declan, to Kitty. A triangle of confusion.

  “What a nice surprise,” she said, smiling. “I was just telling Timothy that I barely see you anymore.” As if that were a bad thing. I wasn’t proud of moving back in with my parents, but this was downright humiliating.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. “How do you even know this neighborhood exists?”

  “A yoga friend told me about it.” She held up her bag. “That shop is the only place in the whole city that carries this particular brand of Royal Jelly.”

  I grimaced. “The stuff that comes out of bee butts?”

  “Queen bees, Sara. Royal Jelly only comes out of—” She glanced at Declan. “It’s only secreted by the queen.” She reached her hand out, palm-side down, to Declan. Oh God. Did she expect him to kiss her ring? “I’m Elaine, Sara’s mother. And you are…?”

  “Wow, it’s so nice to meet you.” Declan glanced at me before gently taking her hand, looking as if he were about to laugh. “I’m Declan, Sara’s friend.” Thankfully, he didn’t pause before friend. Even more thankfully, he hadn’t used a word like date or lover.

  “Okay. Great to see you, Mom,” I mumbled. “Enjoy your Queen Bee butt stuff. We need to go.”

  “Go where?” she asked pointedly. “In this neighborhood? Nonsense. You’re not allowed to run off before I’ve gotten to know Declan a little.”

  I scrambled for an excuse. Kitty—God bless her—chose that moment to get pushy and yank at her leash. “Kitty needs to…relieve herself. So, we should get going.”

  My mom looked disdainfully down at the dog. “Oh. Well, Declan, you should come over for dinner sometime.”

  “I’d enjoy that. Thank you.”

  “How about tonight?” she suggested before I could set a date three years from now.

  I cringed. “Declan’s busy tonight. He’s very busy. Always.”

  “Oh? What do you do, Declan?”

  Dying. I was dying inside. And I had to stop this in the only way I knew how. By making her disapprove. There was no shame in what he did, but I knew my mother’s interest would evaporate as soon as she knew he wasn’t a banker, a lawyer, or a real estate investor.

  “Declan is in a band.” I couldn’t look at him, didn’t want him to think I didn’t respect what he did.

  My mom hesitated. “How nice for you. Following your dream, I imagine?”

  “I suppose so.” The disappointment in his tone trumped my mom’s, and I felt awful.

  “Well, if you’re not busy with band things on Sunday, you should come over for dinner.”

  My groan was silence
d by his reply.

  “That’s really nice of you. Luckily, Sundays are pretty slow when it comes to band things. What time should I come over?”

  This time, my groan was audible to everyone.

  My mom laughed. “Sara’s being selfish, wanting to keep you all to herself. How does seven o’clock sound?”

  “Seven would be great,” Declan said.

  Sure, seven o’clock sounded doable. All I had to do was make sure I got hit by a bus by 6:45. “Okay...I guess.”

  “Wonderful!” She awkwardly reached out as if to pat Kitty on the head. About a foot before her hand would’ve made contact, she changed her mind and pulled back. “Until Sunday, then. Sara, make sure he has the correct address.” Damn it, there went that plan.

  “I will.” I smiled tightly and said a quick goodbye before prodding Kitty to start walking. Declan said goodbye more politely and caught up to us.

  His hand grazed mine until I pulled it away. “Not where she might see.”

  “Do I embarrass you?”

  “Not at all.” I looked behind us to make sure she wasn’t watching. “She embarrasses me. I was trying to save you the horror of spending an hour in her company.”

  “I have a lot of experience with parents who think what I do is a disgrace, mainly my parents. So, I think I can handle one more.”

  Two more—my stepdad would probably be there, too.

  23

  Declan

  When we got to the dog park, Sara let Kitty off her leash.

  “Go play, girl.” I waved to a few other people in the park who were all standing around, watching the group of dogs Kitty bolted toward.

  We found an empty bench and sat down. Not a cloud in the sky, the air scented of freshly mowed grass, and a light breeze taking the edge off the sometimes brutal California heat. I could get used to this.

  “I think my dog likes you almost as much as I do.”

  Sara didn’t even react, obviously lost in whatever she’d been thinking about since we left her mother. Meeting Elaine had definitely thrown Sara for a loop. Too much, too soon, probably. She’d had a hard enough time barely admitting that we were dating, and a half hour later, I’d promised her mom I’d come over for a family dinner. I think that pretty much defined too much, too soon. For her, at least. Any opportunity to get to know more about her, I’d take happily.

  “I didn’t mean to rush things,” I said. “If you think—”

  “Your parents don’t like what you do?” That’s what she’d been thinking about?

  “When my mom doesn’t have a strong opinion about something, she defers to my father. Since he thinks I’m wasting my potential, so does she.”

  “What’s your potential?”

  “I’m going to pretend I’m not hurt that you haven’t realized it yet.”

  “The potential your parents see is a lot different than the kind of potential I see in you. At least I hope it is because that would be gross.” Her head was lowered as she focused on dragging her toe back and forth through the dirt, but I could tell she was smiling.

  “My father wants me to follow in his footsteps, become a shrink to the elite, listen to rich people bitch about their problems all day, write a couple books, and have a big house with a kid.”

  “He’s a shrink? Now I know why you’re so good at psychoanalyzing people in alleys.”

  “And why I’m so screwed up.” I leaned forward and rested my forearms on my thighs. “What’s that expression about a cobbler’s kids not having shoes?”

  “You’re one of the least screwed-up people I know, so he must be pretty good at his job.”

  “Oh, he’s a really good shrink…and also a really shitty father.”

  “Hey! I have one of those, too,” she said, feigning excitement. What a great thing to bond over. “But mine left when I was a toddler and died a few years later. From the little my mom has told me about him he could probably have used your dad’s help.”

  “I’m sorry. Even as much of a disappointment as mine enjoys telling me I am, I still know I’m lucky to have had one around. If nothing else, it’s easier to understand all the flaws a parent has when you spend a lot of time with them. When you don’t, you can only guess. That must make it a lot harder.”

  She thought about it a second before nodding. “I’ve never heard it put that way, but yeah. I can tell myself a million times that it wasn’t my fault he left, but I can’t get rid of that little piece of doubt that’s always there. I wish I could’ve gotten to know him well enough to be sure he left because he was a selfish asshole who would’ve walked out on anybody.”

  We fell into a comfortable silence, watching Kitty play with a dog half her size, taking turns chasing each other.

  Leave it to animals who lacked the ability to speak to have figured out what humans couldn’t: There doesn’t always have to be a winner and a loser.

  Something doesn’t have to be wrong to know something else is right.

  “Oh shit,” she muttered.

  “What?”

  When she leaned over to me, I thought it was for a kiss, which I gladly gave her. Only afterwards did I realize she’d actually been pulling her cell phone out of her back pocket. Cell phones, right. There’d never been a moment those things couldn’t ruin.

  I watched her thumbs fly from letter to letter. Since I didn’t want her to think I was reading over her shoulder, I switched my focus to her face. Sadly, that didn’t help—she was mouthing each word as she texted. I didn’t catch too many. Just “do it tomorrow” and “I’ll make it up to you.”

  “Everything okay?” I asked while she stared at her phone waiting for a reply.

  “My boss…friend…” She shook her head as if to straighten stuff out in it. “My friend who’s also my boss. I’m trying to get all her client contracts set up right but needed her husband’s advice. He’s an attorney. Not a contract attorney, but he knows them well enough.” Her smile grew. “Aaaand I’m going to stop explaining before I bore you to death. Never mind.”

  “Nothing about you would bore me. Although, to be honest, the word ‘contract’ does make me a little sleepy.”

  “Contracts themselves are pretty dry. But when you really study them to see what both sides are fighting for, it’s fascinating.”

  “I’ll have to take your word on that.”

  She nudged me, laughing. “It is. Knowing what someone is willing to give up is just as important as knowing what they want, maybe more so. Like…” She paused to look at me. “You signed a contract with your manager, right? So, getting a set percentage of whatever deal he can get you motivates him to make the best deal possible, and that benefits you and the guys, too.”

  “I guess so.”

  “But from what you’ve told me, he’d rather get a deal for just you, right? Not for the band. His percentage isn’t affected by how many people are involved, just the amount of money he can get. And if he thinks he can get more from a solo contract than for the band, that’s what he’ll do.”

  “If you’re trying to make him seem like less of an asshole, you’ll have to work harder.”

  “Just because someone’s an asshole doesn’t mean they can’t do simple math.”

  I shook my head. “Doug gives me the same number whether he’s talking about the band or a solo act. And then keeps repeating that if I went out on my own, I wouldn’t have to split it four ways.”

  “Hmm… He wouldn’t fight to get you to leave the band if he weren’t hoping to get something more out of it. So, there’s something he’s not telling you, and that something would show up on a contract.”

  “I’ve never thought of it like that before,” I said, sitting up. What the fuck was that dirtbag up to?

  Thankfully, when I saw her smile, I stopped thinking about Doug, promised contracts, and all the shit with the band. I couldn’t believe that kind of stuff made her happy, but it obviously did.

  “Not that I think it’s weird or anything,” I said without cracking a s
mile, “but where does one learn to love contracts so much?”

  She swatted at me. “I don’t love them, but they’re important. Ever since I was a kid, I thought I was going to be an attorney. I used to negotiate toy exchanges or come up with shared stuffed animal custody schedules between my friends. Plus, when my mom and Timothy first got hitched, he used to spread paperwork all over the dining room. I’d have to clear off the table without messing up the piles, or he’d freak out. So, I guess, indirectly, that taught me how powerful they were.”

  “Do you still want to be an attorney?”

  She shrugged. “I can barely deal with work and three classes. Even if law school were free, I’m not ready to think about that stuff yet.”

  “You know, someone once told me that the only way to turn yet into never is by giving up.”

  “Wow. That’s deep.” When her phone buzzed, she looked down at it, reading the text that had just come in. “Everything’s fine.” Then, with a smile, she tucked it back into her pocket. “Now, where were we?”

  “I’m deep, and you were about to tell me”—I scooted a little closer to her—“who I’m going to meet on Sunday. Besides your mother, who seemed nice, by the way.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at me. “You’re joking, right?”

  I had so many questions to ask her but didn’t know where to start. And how not to sound like a shrink when I did it.

  “Speechless.” She nodded. “Don’t worry. That’s exactly how I feel about her, too.”

  “I’m sure she’s just curious about the guy her daughter’s with. I’d probably worry about the same thing.”

  “Do you want to have kids?” The look on her face told me she regretted going there. As if asking me would make things awkward or give me the wrong impression. “I promise that wasn’t a test or anything beyond a simple question.”

  “You mean you haven’t already started wondering what kind of soccer coach I’ll be? Or if I’ll change dirty diapers? What kind of woman are you?” I nudged her in the side and rolled my eyes. “You don’t need to worry so much about scaring me off, Sara. First of all, I worked pretty damn hard to be here. Second, I know when a question is just a question and when it’s a test. Trust me, growing up with a shrink taught me how to spot when someone’s grasping for subtext in every word that comes out of my mouth.”