Poet

by A. M. Johnson

  “No… I wouldn’t.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice. “You really like this chick?” he asked, and I nodded, keeping my eyes on the road. “Then you have to let her open up to you when she’s ready. Not everyone wants to confess their sins like you do.” I could feel his eyes on me as he said, “If you like her, then like all of her, no one is fucking perfect. She’s going to disappoint you, and you’ll disappoint her, but hell, if she’s worth it, you’ll get over that shit. Don’t let one lie, technicality, or whatever the fuck you want to call it stop you.”

  I hadn’t planned on letting it stop me. I’d meant what I’d said to her in the club. I didn’t care that she worked there, I was only pissed that she hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me. What Liam was saying made sense, though. Why would she risk her heart on a guy she’d just met? I was too easy for her, and I needed to slow myself down.

  “I won’t.”

  Liam relaxed into the seat. “Good. Because you’re not getting any younger, kid.”

  I laughed and then winced when I tightened my grip on the wheel. My knuckles were swollen and split but I didn’t regret a thing. That guy deserved it. Piece of shit. Melissa didn’t deserve to be talked to that way just because she worked at a strip club. That asshole wished he could get a hand job from a woman like her.

  “How’s your hand?” Liam asked.

  “Hurts.”

  He chuckled again. “I bet.”

  “Don’t be too proud.”

  His laugh hitched my lips into a smile. “Oh, but I am.” I chanced a glance in his direction and, even if his expression was painted with a smartass sideways smile, his eyes never lied to me. Liam was proud, and damn it if that didn’t feel pretty awesome.

  As tempted as I’d been to attend the Spanish service, like I’d teased Melissa last night via text, I didn’t intrude. I’d see her tonight and tomorrow night per our little agreement. My lips stretched into a grin as I headed toward the cathedral doors. The soft murmur of voices surrounded me with each slow step. Mr. Franks and Mrs. Detwiler were deep in conversation, and I didn’t want to be rude and shove past them. Besides, Father Becker had just spoken about how the world was changing, moving too fast, and I had to admit, for a second, I’d felt like he’d been talking to me.

  Shame filled my veins as I thought about how I’d asked Melissa to come home with me after our date. I couldn’t say that I hadn’t wanted her to, and I couldn’t deny that I still wished she had, but after everything that happened at the club the other night, I’d made a choice to rein myself in. I wanted her. Just thinking about what it would be like to have her poured liquid heat down my spine. She ignited forgotten temptations, setting fire to the standards I’d kept in place in order to stay chaste, in order to stay on the path I’d once believed had been my only answer. And just because I’d changed course, later than I probably should have, didn’t mean I had to throw myself into the blaze.

  One step at a time.

  I’d almost made it out of the church without getting trapped by Mrs. Detwiler, but when she turned and faced me I didn’t have a chance to avert my eyes. She was a nice lady and everything, but she always had a way of making me feel…

  “Kieran, did you know my daughter is coming home for Christmas next month? She’s not opposed to dating an older man.”

  I swallowed down my retort. Her daughter wasn’t opposed to most things, I’d heard. Guys liked to talk a big game, but the two who’d helped me organize last summer’s benefit barbecue had a lot of interesting things to say about Mrs. Detwiler’s daughter.

  “I’m not sure I—”

  “Now don’t be shy. You were always too shy. I used to tell your mother she shouldn’t have—”

  “My mom was always big on letting us boys steer our own ships.” I gave her a half-hearted smile in hopes she’d take the hint.

  “Well… that was exactly where she went wrong. I always say…”

  I tuned her out as I grit my teeth. I didn’t want to hear her theories on how my mom could’ve done a better job. My mom had done what she could. Sure, she should’ve thrown my father’s ass to the curb, and maybe she should’ve put Declan in therapy sooner, instead of relying on Father Hollard, but she’d done what she’d always felt was right. Mom hated that Liam had to run the house, hated that I didn’t get to be a priest, but we all made it, we were all living and happy, and she was the one responsible for that. She’d given us everything, made us a cohesive unit. The whole “you die, I die” sort of attitude, and I’d never change a thing about it, because then I wouldn’t be… me.

  Without really caring if she was finished, and not really knowing what the hell she was saying anymore, I excused myself. “Always good to catch up, Mrs. Detwiler. See you next Sunday, as usual.” I gave her a wave and walked away, letting myself feel the joy her dumbfounded expression had given me.

  My eyes turned to slits as the sun spilled through the church doors. The cold air hit me in the chest as my feet hit the sidewalk. The sky was a deep, open blue, absent of clouds, which had made it even cooler. Liam had told me once when I was little that the clouds were like blankets keeping in the warmth. On cold days, if the sky was clear, the temperature dropped quickly. Today was no different, the frigid temperature crystallized my breath and made my eyes water. My fingertips were almost numb by the time I’d gotten into the truck.

  I turned on the ignition and flipped the heat to high as I pulled my phone from my pocket.

  Me: Can you meet me at Kangaroo Castle around seven?

  I smiled down at my phone like a dumbass as I awaited her reply. I had no idea if she knew where or what Kangaroo Castle was, and I sort of hoped she didn’t. The place was just a few blocks away from the university. It was open late and pandered to the collegiate crowd. A lot of the college kids went there after getting drunk at the pub a few streets over. From outside, if you looked through the storefront windows, you’d think it was a place for toddlers, and maybe it should’ve been, the huge space was filled with blow up bounce houses. The majority of the clientele, though, consisted of adults.

  Melissa: Kangaroo Castle… are you joking?

  Me: Nope.

  Melissa: Bounce houses? Should I bring my imaginary friend?

  Me: Is she hot?

  I huffed out a laugh and pictured her irritated smirk in my head. It was a sexy smirk.

  Melissa: Your maturity level astounds me. You claimed two nights, all for you, and you pick bounce houses.

  Me: Come on, it’ll be fun, and then I’ll cook dinner for you at my place.

  I hovered my thumb over the send button. I originally was going to take her out for pizza after, to complete the whole ridiculous college date I’d never had the chance to go on, but having her all to myself, no outside distractions, a chance for her to open up, it was too tempting. I pressed send.

  Melissa: Are you making me SpaghettiOs, too?

  My lips spread ear to ear.

  Me: I think I might surprise you… you in?

  Melissa: God, help me, but I am.

  Me: Seven o’clock.

  Melissa: See you there.

  Me: She made him smile, and it was enough… to make him feel real in a world full of fiction.

  I hit send and then locked my phone. It had become a thing now, I ended every text between us with words I’d chosen only for her. I stopped worrying what she thought of them. Part of me enjoyed imagining what my words made her feel. If they scared her, made her think, made her feel… special. She was though. She was special because she was the first woman to change the season of my sentences. Thinking of her, her lips on mine, her fingers in my hair, her nails on my neck, her ass in those damn shorts from The Western, she’d turned my words into a living, breathing fire storm. Her burn had changed the color of each thought, made them speak the syllables I wouldn’t, couldn’t say aloud.

  Not yet.

  I took a deep breath, shifted the truck into drive, and reminded myself…

  One ste
p at a time.

  The thick waves of my hair wove through my fingers as I pulled the wayward strands into a side braid. I figured jumping up and down all night like a toddler would require a braid. I almost put my hair into pigtails, but I’d be thirty in a few months, and I was already doubting my sanity for agreeing to this shit in the first place. My make-up was minimal, just some light powder and gloss to fit my casual jeans and sweater getup. I wished it was summer because I would’ve loved to wear shorts, but I wasn’t going to freeze my ass off for comfort.

  When I caught my reflection in the mirror as I grabbed my phone off the bathroom sink, I noticed the color in my cheeks. The stupid grin on my face. Ever since I’d read the words “Kangaroo Castle” in the text he’d sent me, my smile had reappeared every twenty or so seconds. Kieran’s suggestion was absolutely juvenile, but I loved it. He made me feel like a kid again. I’d missed out on so much of my own adolescence, post-adolescence… I’d missed out on life. In the short amount of time I’d spent with him, he’d made it easier for me to remember it was okay to live, to smile, to be… happy. There were dark stains, and maybe I’d become a worn and faded version of myself, but he was that guy… the guy who could turn even the smallest find into a treasure, into something beautiful.

  I threw my phone onto my bed as I sifted through my bag. I grabbed my debit card, and ID, and tucked them safely inside my back pocket, not wanting to lug my purse around all night. It was nearly six forty-five and I had to head out if I was going to make it there on time. My phone rang just as I was about to pick it up, and Maria’s name flashed across the screen.

  “What’s up?” I asked as I slipped on my shoes.

  “Hey, I’m having a minor crisis.” Maria spoke a bit breathless and worry sank into my stomach.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Dean wants to meet with me, and I need you to watch Jordan.”

  My worry soured into aggravation. “Fuck that, why?”

  “He didn’t give me specifics, but—”

  “But you just drop everything and fall at his feet. He cheated and—”

  “It’s about Jordan, he said he wants to talk about giving up his rights.”

  My aggravation turned to defeat and clogged my throat as I croaked, “But… why?” Maria’s ex-husband Dean wasn’t around much, but this would hurt Jordan. His father, for all he knew, would be giving him up.

  He had already been given up once. I didn’t let the thought thread through me. It was the best choice I’d ever made.

  “He didn’t give me details, except that he was moving and didn’t want to ship a kid back and forth across the country.” Maria’s voice wobbled. “Just tell me you can watch JoJo for a couple of hours. I don’t want to involve Mom and Dad, not right now… it’s too much…” Her voice faded and the pain in my chest multiplied.

  “I was just leaving, but I can be there in twenty minutes.”

  She sighed, relief muddled with exhaustion. “Thank you.”

  The phone went silent, and I stared at the wall allowing the pain to cut me open. Jordan deserved a father who gave a shit, and I thought that was what I had given him. My sister though, she was enough. Our family loved that kid. I loved that kid. And it was why I was out the door without a second thought about it.

  Traffic was light, as usual. Sundays in Utah meant clear roads for miles. I’d sent Kieran a quick text before I’d locked up my apartment letting him know I had to watch my nephew, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the light blinking on my phone from where it sat on the passenger side seat. I wouldn’t let the disappointment set in. My family was my first priority, and if he couldn’t understand that, then he didn’t need to be in my life. I cringed at the words in my life. Not even on date two and I’d already started hoping for things I shouldn’t. I’d been hoping, though, since he’d kissed me in that bookstore.

  My car rolled to a stop just outside Maria’s place and, before I could run inside, my phone rang. Kieran’s number scrolled across the screen this time, and I smiled at his impatience.

  “I was driving,” I said instead of hello and he chuckled.

  “Sorry, I figured you were ditching me, but then you didn’t answer my text, and I thought maybe you were really ditching me.” His voice was low and deep and it smoothed all the tension from Maria’s earlier phone call. God, how did he do that?

  “I am ditching you… and it’s for another man, too.” I bit my lip to suppress my smile.

  “Ouch. He’s not better looking, though, right?”

  I laughed. “Only if you’re into nine-year-olds. He’ll be ten on December first so I don’t feel like I’m robbing the cradle as much.”

  “And here I thought I was the only younger man in your life.”

  “Hey, I’m not that much older than you.”

  “How long do you have to watch your nephew?” he asked, changing the subject and getting right to the point.

  “Just a couple of hours, my sister has to talk to her ex. I wouldn’t cancel, but it’s really all kinds of fucked up.”

  He didn’t say anything for a few agonizing seconds. I counted four of his breaths before he finally said, “Bring him.”

  “Bring who? My nephew?” He was joking again. He had to be.

  “Yeah. What nine-year-old doesn’t love bounce houses. Bring him, and then we can drop him back at your sister’s before we head back to my place for dinner.”

  “You want me to bring my nephew on our date?”

  His quiet laughter awoke the slumbering butterflies in my stomach, and despite his crazy ass idea, I found myself smiling again.

  “Bring him. The place isn’t that packed on Sundays. He’ll have fun, keep him distracted from all the fucked up.” I could hear the proud grin in his voice. He was too pleased with himself for figuring out a way to make it all work.

  “Let me ask my sister if she cares. She may want to talk to me after she gets back from seeing her ex, may need me to cheer her up.”

  “Ask her and let me know.”

  “Okay.”

  “I hope I get to see you.”

  Me, too. “I’ll text you.”

  We both said our goodbyes, and I walked into Maria’s feeling a little more hopeful than I had about fifteen minutes ago.

  Maria, of course, hadn’t cared that I wanted to take her “nine-year-old son out on a date” with a “strange guy” she’d “never met.” She’d actually shoved me out the door with JoJo after I’d asked her. She’d been apologetic about “ruining” my date, and hoped that Jordan wouldn’t be “too much trouble.” I swear she studied from the same book of guilt trips as my mother had. She’d been all too happy to let me take Jordan to Kangaroo Castle, but not without serving up that nice slice of guilt pie before she’d shut the door. I’d almost said fuck it, but I knew Kieran was harmless, and JoJo’s eyes had turned into saucers when I’d mentioned it. Jordan had been so eager with his, “Please, Mom” and “I never do anything fun.” I’d had to hold back my laugh when Maria had given me the evil eye.

  “Is this it? Is this where we’re meeting your boyfriend?” JoJo asked as he pulled me toward the large storefront window.

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I said and looked up just in time to see Kieran on the other side of the window smiling like a cat that just ate a canary.

  My lips lifted in response and I waved lamely. The nagging fear that he’d still have questions, the lingering anxiety about what had happened the other night faded to the background. That smile… I wrapped it up and hid it deep inside my chest alongside all the other things I never wanted to forget.

  “Come on, Jordan.” I led him to the door. “You have to be good, okay. Listen, and don’t run off, and when it’s time to leave no arguments.”

  “Rules,” he grumbled.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Agree or I won’t open this door.”

  He nodded, but I didn’t have to open the door because Kieran had already done it for me. His brows dipped and creased as he s
tared at Jordan.

  “You must be Jordan?” Kieran asked and held out his hand. Jordan took it with a shy grin. “Has anyone ever told you that you look just like your Aunt Melissa but with blue eyes?”

  My heart skipped and split, spilling into my gut. He was so perceptive, and usually that was a great thing for a guy to be, but right now, I was praying for him to just let us through the door.

  JoJo scowled. “Yeah, all the time, but no one seems to know where I got my blue eyes. Abuela said they are repressive.”

  Kieran opened the door wider with a bark of a laugh. “You mean recessive?”

  “Oh, yeah…” He held the syllable. “That’s right.” Jordan brought his palm to his face and shook his head with a deep giggle. “Thanks.” He gave Kieran another smile, but this time it was bigger. And without even trying, Kieran was in the cool kid club.

  “You ready for some fun?” Kieran’s light eyes met mine, and I was a girl on a date again.

  My legs felt gooey and my cheeks hot. The man broke through every defense with one look. I was either weak, or he was just that damn good. I gave him a quick nod and his smile was breathtaking. He acted as if I’d given him the world just by showing up.

  Jordan let go of my hand, running to the benches inside. He sat down and started removing his shoes like he owned the place. “Remember, you have to wait, no running off,” I scolded and Kieran slipped his hand in mine.

  He pressed his lips to my cheek. His kiss evaporated any lingering nerves. The familiar warmth of his hand felt nice, and I tried not to let that scare me.

  “He’s a good-looking guy. I would’ve ditched our date for him, too,” Kieran’s whispered words made me laugh softly.

  “Let’s see how much you like him in a couple of hours. The kid has way too much energy. He always seems to make me feel old.”

  “You are old.” Kieran’s laugh was more like a snicker when I bumped my shoulder into his.

  “You’re an ass.”

  “Aunt Mel, you said a bad word.”

  “It’s only bad if it’s not true.” I winked and JoJo gave me his signature smile. It was the one he gave me when he knew I was doing something I shouldn’t. He liked that I was a rule breaker just like him. I’d always wanted to ask him, “Where do you think you got that from, little man.” But obviously, I never would.