by Allie Gail
“I can imagine!” I wondered how much of a hissy fit the kid was going to throw when she found out she wouldn’t get to dance en pointe for years yet. Straightening, I gathered up my backpack and duffel bag. “See you later, mashed potater.”
“Bye, you…chicken nugget head!” Giggling, Peyton skipped off with her mother trailing wearily behind her.
“Chicken nugget head?” Approaching me from his prized Mustang, Riley casually sauntered up with his hands in his pockets, the picture of self-assurance.
“Hey, I’ve been called worse. You ready to get to work?” Without waiting for a reply, I headed for the front door. It was unlocked, but other than the porch light I was surprised to find every other light in the house turned off. “Dad…?” I called out.
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” Riley concluded as he shed his jacket.
“Wait here a second.” I went into the kitchen and grimaced when I found a note stuck to the fridge with a magnet. Gone to see a movie with Rachel, back later. ~Dad. Great, just great. Peyton had distracted me outside - I didn’t even notice his car was gone. Muttering profanities under my breath, I reluctantly returned to my unwelcome guest.
“Everything okay?” he wanted to know.
“Yeah. I guess my dad went out for a little while.”
“Where’s the boyfriend?” His tone bordered on the edge of sarcastic without quite reaching smartass territory. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that Dad wasn’t home. I hadn’t stopped to consider that Riley might say something incriminating in front of him.
“At work. So did you want to start with the first act or was there some other scene you were having problems with?” I asked brusquely. Coaching this dingleberry was the last thing I wanted to waste my night doing. I was tired, not to mention crabby, there was still some homework left to finish and on top of everything else it was that oh-so-magical time of the month, which sure as hell wasn’t helping my humor any.
“How about we start with scene five and go from there,” he suggested.
To my surprise - and relief - he actually seemed to be making a genuine attempt to concentrate on getting his lines right. I hadn’t really expected him to take this seriously. Maybe he was starting to realize that if he didn’t get it together he was going to wind up flunking drama, of all things.
Of course I insisted on glossing over the kissing scenes, to his barely veiled chagrin. Mr. Clarke had already assured me that during the actual production, a peck on the side of the mouth would suffice. Except for the last scene. But even there I could position my head in such a way that the audience wouldn’t be able to tell I wasn’t really locking lips with him. An air kiss was all poor deceased Romeo was getting. Too bad, so sad.
All in all though, he was doing a lot better than expected and didn’t need a lot of prompting from me. If I assumed he was just using this as an excuse to hit on me, then maybe I was being a little paranoid. Because he kept it no-nonsense and professional. That is, until his bone of contention appeared.
I was alternating between reading the parts of Paris and Balthasar in the last act when the front door opened, and I pulled my attention from the script to see not my dad as expected, but Rob. Oh, crap - I’d neglected to mention to him that Riley would be coming over. The whole thing had completely slipped my mind.
He paused beside the Fraser fir he brought home yesterday, eyes shifting from me to Riley questioningly. But all he said was, “’Sup, man.”
“Kensington.” Riley gave a terse jerk of his head.
“Rehearsal,” I briefly explained, pointing to the script in my hand.
His features relaxed, and my disagreeable mood instantly evaporated when I was rewarded with that special smile he reserved just for me. “Ah, I see. And how comes it, fair Juliet?”
I grinned at his affected accent. “All I can say is, I’ll be glad when this stupid play’s behind us. I’m sticking to bit parts next semester.”
“You and me both,” Riley concurred, reaching for his jacket. “Well, I should get going. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
“All right. I think you made enough progress to keep Clarke off your back for a day or two. See you tomorrow.”
“Sure thing. Thanks for helping me out. With…you know. Everything.” Strolling toward the front door, he looked back at me with what seemed like a deliberately lewd smirk.
“Um…yeah, no problem.” What was he talking about? Everything? There was no everything.
“It’s been fun, princess. Call me - we’ll do this again when I’ve recuperated.” The door slammed shut behind him and I stood rooted to the floor, slack-jawed. What the hell…!
Feeling Rob’s possessive arm around me, I looked up at him in dismay. “I have no idea what that was about! I swear - all we did was rehearse our lines…”
“Baby, I know that. He was just trying to piss me off. I’m not dense enough to take anything he says seriously.”
I was relieved that he didn’t seem concerned, but it still infuriated me that Riley would go out of his way to try and instigate trouble between us. “That fucking dildo! After I just spent two hours trying to help his ass - he better not say anything like that at school tomorrow! You don’t think he would, do you? Make up stories about what we were doing here tonight?”
“He better not be that stupid. I’d make him eat his own fucking teeth if he pulled a stunt like that.”
“I just don’t want you thinking I’d ever -”
“Sara. It’s okay. I know you wouldn’t.” He pulled me into his arms and I burrowed my head into his chest, inhaling the delicious woodsy scent of him.
“What’re you doing home already?” I mumbled into his shirt. “I thought you weren’t supposed to get off for another hour.”
“Slow night. Mr. Crawford let me knock off early. You coulda texted me or something, warned me he was gonna be here. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw his car out front.”
“Oh. Sorry. It was kind of a last minute thing. Mr. Clarke asked me to help him go over his lines, and then we had a pop quiz in physics and I just forgot all about it. I thought Dad would be home or I wouldn’t have agreed to meet him here in the first place.”
“Where’d he go?”
“Movies. With Rachel.”
“Mm.”
“You know, it’s weird. Riley was actually a perfect gentleman until you got here. Is he seriously still holding a grudge about what happened at Halloween?”
“Who knows. We’ve never really gotten along.”
“Does he know about you and Jordan?” I hated the way those words, you and Jordan, tasted on my tongue.
“Yeah, I think she told him back when they first started dating.”
“Is that why you don’t get along?”
“We don’t get along because he’s a self-entitled cocksucker and I can’t stand his arrogant ass. It has nothing to do with Jordan.”
I wasn’t too sure about that. It seemed to me the most likely origin of their mutual antagonism. Even if Riley was no longer in love with Jordan - which I still wasn’t convinced of - old habits were hard to break. Just like the Montagues and the Capulets. Continuing their feud because of an ancient grudge that didn’t even matter anymore.
“Don’t worry about it, baby girl. If he keeps up his bullshit, I can promise you one thing. He will be sorry.” I felt his lips graze my cheek and his whispered breath was warm in my ear. “Very sorry.”
20
Turns out I didn’t have to worry about my reputation. To the annoyance of our overstressed drama teacher, Riley didn’t even bother to grace the school with his presence on Tuesday…or Wednesday either, for that matter. Brady Evans, his understudy, took over the role during Tuesday’s rehearsal in the auditorium. He did such a bang-up job that Mr. Clarke went ahead and reassigned the part of Romeo. And just like that, I was relieved of my burden of playing the romantic lead opposite someone who could best be described as an anal orifice. I wanted to turn back handsprings down t
he length of the stage.
Thanksgiving at my grandmother’s house in Virginia was, as always, a festive and lively event. When we first arrived, I think Rob was a little overwhelmed by all the friendly attention. But soon he unthawed and began to warm up to the family and seemed to be truly enjoying himself. Everyone went out of their way to make him feel welcome - especially my thirteen-year-old cousin Karen, who developed an immediate and transparent case of puppy love.
It was relaxing for me as well, aside from one slightly disconcerting moment. We’d just finished with dinner - Dad was right, there was enough food to feed the entire U.S. military - and I was helping my favorite aunt straighten up the kitchen when she said in a hushed voice, “So tell me. How long have you and that hottie houseguest of your dad’s been more than just friends?”
I avoided her gaze while busying myself covering the leftover broccoli casserole with plastic wrap. “Wha-aat? Come on now. We don’t even get along.”
She gave me a look that said she knew better. Aunt Nicole is only about ten years older than me, but she’s already an oncologist and when I say she’s smart, I’m not throwing that adjective around loosely. She’s also cover model gorgeous, but that’s neither here nor there.
“Is it obvious?” I groaned, sticking the covered dish in the fridge.
She surprised me with her delighted laugh. “Caught ya, didn’t I! I’ll be honest, I was just going by women’s intuition but now that it’s out in the open…let’s have the dirt. Is he aware that you’re warm for his form?”
It was hard not to convulse in hysterics at that question, but I managed to keep a straight face. “Um…yeah. I’d say he’s definitely aware.”
She studied my expression before slowly nodding. “Uh - huuumm…”
From the kitchen window I could see Rob outside with the other men, riding four-wheelers through the woods behind Gran’s house. Bunch of overgrown kids, every one of them. Of my dad’s three younger brothers, the only married one is Derek, Nicole’s husband. Nate and Wesley are confirmed bachelors and total players. Dad’s two sisters are both married though, and have five kids between them. I rarely ever see my cousins - Aunt Amy lives in Texas, Aunt Kate in Michigan.
“How serious is it?” Nicole prodded.
I shrugged furtively.
“I hope you’re keeping it safe, sugar. You’re both way too young for any little bambinos.”
Wincing at the earsplitting squeals originating from two preschool age cousins in the next room, I promised, “Trust me. I have no intention of letting that happen.”
“Need any help in there?” Kate hollered to us from the dining room.
“Sounds like you’re the one that could use some help!” Nicole yelled back, winking at me. “And people wonder why I’m in no hurry to have children.”
“You won’t say anything, will you?” I pressed her.
“Why don’t you want anyone to know, honey?”
“I’m afraid Dad might want him to move out if he thought…” My sentence trailed off and I frowned uncertainly.
“And if he did move out, where would he go?”
“I don’t know. He has nowhere else to go.”
“Sara. I really don’t think you’re giving your father enough credit. Do you honestly think he’d put Rob out on the street, particularly if he knew that you cared that much about him? Trust me, I’ve heard enough stories from Derek to know that Alan’s hardly a saint himself. He’s gotta realize by now that you’re not a little girl anymore.”
“There’s a double standard when it comes to your own kids,” I pointed out.
“Well…I can’t argue with that. Men are hardheaded varmints.” She leaned against the counter and adjusted her designer glasses. “They’ll high-five their sons for getting into a girl’s pants, and it’s fine and well as long as it’s somebody else’s daughter. But their own little angels are expected to remain sweet, innocent virgins until they find some wealthy NFL star to marry at the age of thirty and eventually produce a future NFL star through immaculate conception.” Pausing to take a breath after her longwinded speech, she beamed at me cheerfully. “That sum it up?”
“Sounds about right,” I acknowledged, returning her smile.
“Doesn’t it though.” Peering through the window, she eyeballed Rob as he leaned over to check one of the four-wheeler’s tires. “I gotta admit…he is a cutie.”
Rob had the day after Thanksgiving off as well, so he and Dad spent an hour trying to locate the Christmas decorations buried beneath all the crap in the garage. Then they spent another hour struggling to untangle strand after strand of little multicolored lights. After twining some around the tree, they took the rest outside to hang on the house while I stayed inside to put up the garland and ornaments. I was filling in the last few empty spots in the branches with pine cones and humming Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer when Rob came breezing back inside.
“Come look,” he said, flashing a boyish grin. His cheeks were flushed from the cold and the way his eyes were sparkling kindled a warm ache in my heart. What could Christmas have been like for him, growing up as an unloved and unwanted child? I couldn’t imagine it being a holly jolly sleigh ride at the Kensington household. An image of a dark-haired little boy with sad hazel eyes sprang randomly into my mind. Were there even any childhood photos left of him? Had his entire past been destroyed in that fire? Maybe it was just as well. He’d already made it clear that he didn’t want to hold on to the memories.
“Oh, hey - tree looks great,” he added, looking it up and down.
“It does, doesn’t it? You did a good job picking it out. This is the nicest, fullest tree I’ve ever seen.”
“Come see what we did with the lights.” Still smiling, he opened the front door and waited for me to follow behind. I hadn’t even noticed that it was already dark out - I must have spent more time decorating the tree than I thought. Dad was standing out by the mailbox, admiring his handiwork. I joined him at the edge of the yard before turning around to check out the display, and the first thing that popped into my head was National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t quite that bad but still, it was blindingly bright. I had visions of neighborhood-wide blackouts because of us.
“Holy cow! Where did I put my sunglasses?” I burst out laughing. “Are you singlehandedly trying to keep the power company in business or what?”
“Not too bad, huh?” Dad looked pretty proud of himself.
“He should be able to see them from the airport when he takes off,” Rob joked.
“No kidding! It looks great, but how did you wind up with so many lights?”
“Well…instead of trying to remember where I packed them away every year, I just kept buying more,” Dad explained. “We found four separate boxes full of lights in the garage.”
Our attention was redirected when the maroon Corolla pulled into the driveway next door. Stepping out of his car, Mr. Weston called over with a laugh, “Looking good, Alan!”
My dad held up a hand in greeting while I called back, “Why don’t you bring Peyton out to see?”
“I would but she isn’t here right now. Her mother took her shopping with her.”
“On Black Friday?” My dad shook his head in amazement. He’s always been a firm believer in ordering stuff online and having it conveniently delivered right to the door. I suppose if every shopping day was comparable to the day after Thanksgiving, I could hardly blame him.
“I know. Couldn’t talk Deanna out of it. You know women. They should be home soon - she’ll see them then. They’ll be hard for her to miss.”
“If they’re still in the city limits, she can probably see them from where they’re at right now!” I stole a glance at Rob who smiled back at me. His carefree demeanor was so far removed from the morose cynic of three months ago that he hardly seemed like the same person. Suddenly I felt an overwhelming urge to reveal to my father what a momentous thing he’d done by bringing him into our lives. I settled for
enveloping him in an affectionate hug. “Did I ever tell you how awesome you are?”
“Did you get into that bottle of rum your Aunt Kate sent home with me?” he teased, ruffling my hair.
“No, goober! I didn’t touch your hooch.”
Tilting his head to one side, he continued to examine the twinkling display. “What happened to that wreath I had for the front door? Got any idea?”
“I don’t know, I think it’s in the hall closet. Are we gonna stand out here in the yard all night or what? I’m freezing my heinie off.”
“You two go ahead. I just need to put up the ladder and I’ll be in.”
There was just enough time for Rob to sneak a kiss under the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights. Too bad we weren’t alone. I would have loved nothing better than to unwrap him like the world’s sexiest present.
He nipped gently at my neck with a low growl. “Saralou, I gotta tell you…I’m crazy about your dad and all but damn, this has been the longest week. I can’t wait to have you all to myself for a few days.”
“Me, too. I miss listening to you snore at night.”
“What? I do not snore!”
I giggled at his defensiveness. “You did once. I thought it was cute.”
“Ah…I think you’re full of crap.”
“At least I don’t snore…”
“No, you just steal all the covers!”
“I do that?”
“You do that. But it’s okay, because I have you to keep me warm.” He brushed his lips against mine again, whispering, “Just having you beside me gets me hot as hell. Knowing all I have to do is reach for you, and there you are.”
Feeling the familiar stirring, I pressed my body tightly against his. “You know, he does sleep all the way at the other end of the house. If we were really quiet…”
“Don’t tempt me, baby girl. You know the rules. Never with your dad here. Now why don’t we go see if we can find that wreath for him.”
