by Mysti Parker
“Have a seat,” he says from his seat and points to the wicker chair on the other side of a small glass-topped wicker table.
“Okay.” I set the bags down at the foot of the chair and settle onto the puffy blue suede seat cushion. A vase of fresh daylilies sits in the middle of the table. Similar decorative furniture, potted plants, and other embellishments are scattered across the big front porch. It’s a roomy white-sided house, like one you’d see on a greeting card.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush, son,” Lorne says, picking one of his teeth with his thumbnail. Then he looks straight at me. His eyes are the same color as Avery’s, green with specks of brown, and large like hers, enough to get his meaning across without words. “Do you love my daughter?”
“Yes, sir, she’s awesome.” That answer came easier than I thought it would, but what else could I say? We’ve been lying for weeks now. Might as well keep it up.
“Hmm. I know my daughters are grown women and can make their own decisions, but Avery sometimes jumps into things without thinking them through. She has trouble making the right decisions.”
“Because of the accident?”
His eyebrows rise. “She tell you about that?”
“Yes.” Then I wonder if he knows what I do, but now’s not the time to bring it up. I’m honestly not sure how or when I’ll tell Avery. She’s already on a short fuse. It might be best to wait until after the weekend.
“All right. Well, that is why I’ve insisted on meeting all her dates, not that she’s had many. I haven’t been impressed by any of them yet.”
“If it’s any consolation, I can give her a comfortable life.” That one’s not a lie, because I could if we were actually married.
“Yeah, I know. You’re a millionaire. You think that’s all it takes to make a woman happy?”
Should I tell him that it also takes good sex? Yeah, I better leave that out.
“No, sir. It takes more than money. Even people who don’t have much can be happy, like my grandparents were.”
“I know your grandpa – he gets his diabetic supplies from me.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.”
“If you came around more, you probably would.”
Shit, how much did this guy know about me? “You’re probably right. I’m working on that though. We were estranged for a while, Pa and my brother, Jesse, and me.”
“I know. Sylvester thinks a whole lot of you. Your grandma did too. She was a good woman.”
Damn it, I feel like I’m in an episode of that old TV show This is Your Life. I rest my elbows on my knees and stare out at the flower-lined circular driveway, where my two-seater seems like a misfit among the four-door sedans, an SUV, and minivan.
Lorne sighs. “I know about your parents, too, and none of that was your fault, but none of that’s an excuse to use my daughter until you’re bored and then throw her out like an old dishrag.”
I meet his gaze. He’s dead serious.
“If you hurt her, I know where to find you. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
We both stand up. I’m not a small guy, but Lorne Price looks like he could break me in half. I hope he never gets the urge to do that. But this makes our eventual “divorce” even more complicated. I may need to change my name and hide out in Mexico.
He takes my shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze, which I think is as close to a hug as we’ll ever get. “Good, then. Just remember something. Nothing in life is more important than family. Don’t take it for granted.”
All I can do is nod and pick up our luggage.
He opens the screen door and gestures for me to go inside. “You’re staying in a room in the basement,” he says. “It’s the first room on the right as you come down the steps. The bathroom’s to the left. Avery will be upstairs.”
“Um, okay. You know, since we’re married, we can –”
“I haven’t seen a ring or a marriage license. Until then, my house, my rules.”
“Yes, sir.”
Downstairs, I find the spare bedroom where I’ll be spending the next two nights. No use arguing with Avery’s father. It’ll be easy enough to tiptoe upstairs once everyone’s asleep should I feel the need. It won’t be the first time I’ve sneaked into a girlfriend’s room. Though if he catches me, it might be the last.
I set my suitcase down on the bed. There’s a desk and a PC and printer here, so I suppose the room doubles as an office. The bed feels comfortable enough, topped with a flowered, fluffy bedspread and green decorative pillows. All the soda I drank on the way here needs to find its way out, so I leave the room and look for the bathroom. Didn’t Lorne say it was just down the hall to the right?
There’s another bedroom with the door wide open just across the hall. There’s an unmade bed, trophies, posters on the wall with weird quotes from people I’ve never heard of. It’s cluttered with wrappers, glasses, bowls, and clothes on the floor. This must be Avery’s brother, Adam’s, room.
Farther down the hall, I find a broom closet, then a storage room, and at the very end is another closed door. This has to be it. I knock in case one of the Price crew might be in there, but the door cracks open. The knob has an actual key lock like you’d find on a front door. I try turning it, but it doesn’t move. It seems as if someone locked it, but didn’t get the door all the way closed.
I push it open slowly. It’s dark inside. “Hello? Anyone in here?”
Silence.
Okay, so hopefully I won’t catch anyone on a toilet. I feel around for a light switch and find one to the right of the door. So I walk in and…
“Holy shit,” I whisper and rub my eyes, in case they’re playing tricks on me. The walls are painted red, embellished with chains and shackles and a rack of various whips and flogs. At one end of the room is a table with a few pairs of handcuffs and blindfolds, a sundry assortment of sex toys on a shelf above that, and in the center is a vinyl-topped table flanked by two reclining chairs with stirrups.
Two chairs. Hmm.
I step farther in. On the wall next to the light switch is a corkboard with photos. I look at them just long enough to see that Lorne and Doris aren’t the only two in the photos. All of them are older adults, all of them smiling and having a dandy old time BDSM-ing each other. A laugh bubbles up, and I press my fist to my mouth to keep from cackling out loud.
“My in-laws are swingers. That’s fucking crazy.”
I back out of the room, because clearly this isn’t the bathroom, nor is it a room that’s meant to be open to the general public. I turn off the lights and pull the door firmly shut, making sure that it’s definitely closed and locked this time.
Turning, I come face-to-face with Lorne Price, arms crossed, staring me down. “The bathroom is the other way.”
I peer around him to see an open bathroom on the other end of the hall. “Oh, so that’s where it is.”
“You pick the lock?”
I shake my head vehemently. “No, sir. The door wasn’t closed all the way, and I honestly thought it was the bathroom. But hey, no harm done. Sorry for the intrusion.”
“Hmm.” He looks away as though feeling guilty for being careless with the door. Then he pokes a beefy finger into my chest, bringing his face down an inch from mine. “If you tell anyone about this, I will personally cram your head up your ass.”
“Ooo, kinky.”
He grabs my shirt collar.
I hold up both hands, laughing. “Sorry. Look, you can beat me to a pulp and explain to Avery and everyone else what prompted that, or”—he loosens his grip, so I push his hand away and step back—“it’s none of my business what you do in your own home among consenting adults. I’m impressed, quite honestly. I don’t have anything like that, and I’ve done a whole lot of weird shit.”
“So we have an understanding?”
“I think we do. I’ll keep my mouth shut. No one’s head will be crammed up anyone’s ass unless that’s something you do on your own time, and t
he kids will be none the wiser. But you know, I think you owe me a little something here.”
He crosses his arms and glares at me again. “What do you want?”
I kind of want to laugh at having the upper hand over this big scary army vet, but I’m not that stupid. “I want to sleep with my wife. In her room.” It sounds oddly natural to call her that.
He huffs a quiet laugh and finally nods. “You’re a man who knows how to strike a bargain. I think we’ll get along just fine.”
∞∞∞
Avery
I splash my face with cold water, brush my teeth, and rinse. Morning sickness sucks balls. My sister complained about it with a couple of her kids, but I always thought she was making a big deal out of it. Boy, was I wrong.
I’ll have to say it’s a stomach virus or something. I know I can’t hide it forever, but I can’t tell anyone yet until I tell Jack and I have no idea how in the hell I’m going to tell him.
Someone knocks on the bedroom door. “Ave, you puking up a lung or what?”
It’s Astraea. Figures.
“Just a minute!” I dry my face and come out of the bathroom, but Astraea’s already inside.
“You okay? Mom told me to come check on you.” She looks at the bed, where my purse is lying on its side, the contents spilled across the comforter. I didn’t realize I’d flung it so hard.
There’s one thing in there she does not need to see, so I reach for it, but she gets to it first, yanks it up, and studies it a moment.
“Give it back, Astraea!” I grab for it, but she dodges and holds it over her head, knowing I can’t reach that high. God, it’s like I’ve been transported back to our childhood, when she used to take my diary and make me wrestle her for it.
One eyebrow shoots up before she shakes her head and laughs. “Somebody’s got some ‘splainin to do.”
She hands it back, so I grab it from her, plop down on the bed, and violently stuff everything back in my purse. “It’s none of your business. Just leave me alone.”
My voice breaks, and so does the emotional dam. I bury my face in my hands and just sob, and right in front of my bitchy sister too. I expect her to go running downstairs to announce my pregnancy to the world like she did my fake marriage or tell me to suck it up and accept how badly I screwed up.
But she doesn’t. I feel the mattress sink beside me, then her arm around me, hugging me close. I look up to see a box of tissues in her hand. I pull some out and cry some more.
“Don’t cry, Ave. It’ll be okay.” Her voice is softer and kinder than I’ve ever heard it before.
Two soaked tissues fall to the floor, so I grab two more. “Will it?”
“Well, honestly, I don’t know. But you can talk to me, sis.”
“Since when?”
“Since forever. I know I’ve been hard on you, and I’m sorry. But I’m still your sister, and I happen to love you, so yeah, you can talk to me. I’m assuming that this wasn’t planned, as in you weren’t trying to force him to marry you?”
“No! I didn’t plan on this. I was on the pill, and then I started feeling ill and bloated so I got a pregnancy test at the gas station on the way here and took it. The stupid pills were expired, Astraea.”
“Jack seems awfully calm about it.”
“He doesn’t know yet.”
“Oh.”
“Please don’t tell him.”
“That’s not my job – you’ll have to handle that. But…how will you handle”—she glances at my stomach—“that?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had time to even process this yet, much less decide what to do with a baby.”
“Well, whatever you decide, I’m here for you, okay? I’ll go down and tell everyone that you had bad Chinese yesterday.”
“What is it with you and Glen? He hates Chinese too.”
“No, it’s the restaurant here in Beach Pointe that’s bad. I’ve seen more than one server picking their noses. And there was a hair in my Kung Pao chicken. And let’s just say, I don’t think it originated on anyone’s head.”
“Ew, you mean a pube?”
“Yep, big old nasty, curly one. I’m just glad it didn’t get in my mouth and stuck in my teeth.”
I laugh a little at that one. Astraea chuckles, too, hugging me up with one arm.
“See? Don’t you feel better now?”
“Well, if you’re trying to help the morning sickness, then no, but thanks, Astraea.”
“Anytime, babe.”
∞∞∞
Fifteen minutes, a couple crackers later (saltines, thank you, not those cardboard excuses for food), and another dousing of cold water on my face, I finally emerge from my room and come downstairs.
Jack is in the kitchen, trying some of Allison’s crackers. He takes a bite, makes a face, and tosses the rest in the garbage. He smiles when I walk in.
“Hey, you okay? Your sister told me you might have had some bad Chinese.” One eyebrow lifts on that last word. He’s skeptical, and for good reason.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it is.” I laugh nervously, retreat to the fridge, and find a 7Up. “Glen keeps telling me to stay away from there. I guess he’s right.”
“Guess so.”
Huff, one of the Shih Tzus, comes trotting up to Jack.
“Hey, fella.” Jack reaches down and lets Huff sniff his hand, then pets him.
Huff rears up, hugs Jack’s leg, and starts humping like crazy.
“Well, nice to meet you too,” Jack says.
“Oh for heaven’s sakes.” I rush over and pick him up. “Sorry.”
Jack shrugs. “We all have needs. Even the old folks.”
“Huh?”
He chuckles. “Never mind.”
We finally head outside for the annual rock collecting day. Dad and my brothers-in-law are sitting around the fire pit, cold iced tea in hand. Dad looks up and nods, his hard gaze fixed on Jack. He’s manning the hot dogs roasting on the grate over the fire.
“I hope he wasn’t too hard on you,” I whisper.
“Nothing I can’t handle. I just said ‘yes, sir’ a lot.”
“Well played.”
My sisters and brother are down at the creek with the kids. They wave at us. The kids spot us and come running up. They squeal in delight and go straight for Jack. He recoils.
“Are you our uncle?” Annabeth asks, blinking up at him. Her jumpsuit is wet, her legs coated with sand, grass, and mud. “I have a rock for you.” She grabs Jack’s hand and stuffs a wet, slimy creek rock into his palm.
He grimaces. “Um, thanks.”
“Did you get married?” Five-year-old Arthur asks. “We saw you at Aunt Leigh’s wedding.”
“I bet they kissed. Did you kiss Aunt Avery?” Seven-year-old Amanda makes kissy faces and giggles.
“Uh, yeah. What are your names?” Jack offers a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Amanda, ever the leader, answers. “I’m Amanda, and that’s Arthur and Annabeth. Our mom’s having another baby, but we don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet.”
“I hope it’s a boy,” Arthur says, and hand to his mouth, whispers loudly to Jack, “We have too many girls in this family.”
“Uncle Jack!” Annabeth squeals, then hugs his legs. The other two join in, giggling and hugging his knees and waist. He’s wearing a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and some expensive jeans. He holds his arms up as though these little people might be toxic and looks at me helplessly.
Laughing, I pull them off him and shoo them back toward the creek. “Go play so we’ll have enough rocks to paint before dark.”
They take off again, kicking up grass and squealing as they race each other to the water. Huff and Puff bounce along after them.
Jack looks down at his clothes. Finger-shaped mud stains and clumps of grass are stuck all over him. He tries in vain to brush it off, his frown sinking deeper with every frustrated swipe. “This is why I’ll never breed,” he mutters.
“So are they. Let’s just get this over with.”
It’s like a punch in the gut. I can’t keep my voice from breaking. “You know, this life isn’t so bad if you give it a chance.”
“If you say so. I’m going to change. I’ll be out in a minute.” He heads back inside, and I wonder if he’ll even come back out. He didn’t even seem to notice how much his comments hurt me. Fatherhood would just make him miserable. I feel more lost now than ever.
I join Mom at the patio table where she’s setting out her summer barbeque dishes. They’re orange and green – throwbacks to the seventies in which she grew up.
“Avery, you should really stay away from that Chinese place. You still look pale. Do you need to lie down?”
“No, I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, are you sure? How’s your head?”
“Mom. I’m fine. Would you stop it already?”
“I’m sorry. Here.” She hands me some silverware and colorful paper napkins. “You know how much I worry. I can’t help it.”
Truth is, I’d love to lie down, but if I leave Jack out here alone with the family, he may call it quits. We have one week to go before our fake wedding, so we’re down to the wire. It’s clear that Jack wants nothing to do with kids, and considering this was my idea and that I failed to notice the expiration date of my pills, it’s really on me to decide what to do with our child. That fifty thousand could help make being a single mom easier, so I need to ride this out and then go from there.
Mom puts two fingers in her mouth and whistles. My sisters and the kids come back from the creek. Adam’s carrying Annabeth on his shoulders. Even though she’s smearing mud and sand on his neck and hair, he’s grinning from ear to ear. I just wish Jack could do the same, but I know it’s too much to ask, especially since he never wanted this.
