by Mariah Dietz
Kendall cries for a few minutes before she pulls back, and wipes her face. “He really is dense. His head felt like punching a cement wall.”
Wes is the first to laugh, holding nothing back as he leans forward and repeats her words. Jesse and Landon join, and I smile. A choking sob has me turning to see Abby wiping tears from her cheek with one hand, and holding onto Jenny, who tries to smile through tears falling down her cheeks with the other.
“I need you to teach me how to punch,” Kendall adds, brushing her cheeks with her fingers. “I want to be able to lay someone out.”
“You weigh like a hundred pounds. You’re never going to be able to really lay somebody out,” Landon says, trying to hide his grin.
“Okay, well at least be able to hurt them more than it hurts me.”
“Punching someone usually hurts,” Jameson says. “Even if you know what you’re doing.”
“You’re lying.” Her eyes come directly to me, and Jesse and Wes both laugh even harder.
“It depends on where you hit them, and how hard, but yeah, it can hurt,” I admit.
“Ace would call that karma,” Savannah says quietly and then bursts into a new stream of tears.
The Bosse women stay. In my house. For a fucking sleepover.
A.
Fucking.
Sleepover.
Waking up to the blond heads has me jittery with memories, and they progressively get worse when I smell the scent of pancakes coming from the kitchen, accompanied by a chorus of giggles.
“Let’s go,” Landon says, standing from the couch.
I look up and he nods toward the front door. “Let’s go for a run.”
I stand and disappear upstairs to pull on some shorts and socks and then bound downstairs to find Landon hooking Zeus to his leash.
We run for over a mile with the only sounds coming from the city around us.
“I think he’s starting to get used to the leash,” Landon says as we slow to a stop at a crosswalk. I look over to Zeus and watch Landon pat his head and then turn to look at me. “Eventually you learn to adapt.”
“I’m fine,” I respond to his shrink talk.
Landon nods a couple of times and then scratches along his chin. She had pointed out to me once that Landon does this when he’s feeling pensive. I don’t know how I’d never noticed it prior to her pointing it out, but she was right. And for some reason that reminder annoys me.
“How’s school going?” he asks as we start again.
My anger ebbs and disappointment floods me. I’ve already dealt with the anger on this subject, and the denial. I’m onto regret. “I’m going to have to re-apply and beg the dean to allow me to come back. Promise her that I won’t fuck things up again and actually take things serious next year.”
“That’s alright, dude. Do what you have to do to clear things up, and get your ass back in there. I think she’ll understand that you just needed some time off.”
I release a deep breath, and my chest feel like it’s nearly going to cave with the movement. “I don’t know.”
“This was your dream a long time before any of this shit happened. If it still is, you need to do whatever you need to, to get it done.” He directs us down toward a coffee shop that we’ve run to a few different times with Zeus still trotting along beside us. “You’ve got some shit to sort through, but you’re going to be okay. J and I are going to be there with you, and so is everyone else. You’ve got a whole team behind you, man. We’re all cheering for you.”
It feels good to sit with Landon and laugh and talk about things, even things tangled with memories of her have us both laughing without tension.
We’re both breathing hard from pushing ourselves for the last leg as we make it back to the house. I rest my palms on my thighs trying to catch my breath as Landon extracts his keys and gets the door open.
“Shit,” he breathes as his body becomes rigid, standing in the entrance of the front door, unmoving.
I straighten, and step up behind him with Zeus on my other side. My jaw drops at the sight of our house. “What in the hell happened?” I ask, looking around.
A loud crash followed by a squeal lets me know Erin happened. I haven’t seen her in several days. I’ve been ignoring her again, hoping that she just loses interest. I should have known better. I’m not that lucky.
I look around again, taking in the millions upon millions of bubbles that seem to be growing and inching toward us by the second. I release a dozen expletives, loud enough that Landon quietly chuckles as he follows me in.
We make it to the kitchen and find Erin on the floor with the vacuum cleaner, surrounded by suds that are up to my knees and continuing to pour out of the washing machine.
“What happened?” I repeat.
“I think your washer’s fuckin’ broken! I was going to vacuum it up. The thing’s possessed!”
Landon’s thigh high in foam as he twists the dial on the washer. He waits for a moment for it to unlock, and then opens the door. A large mass of bubbles erupts, flowing over his arm.
He turns to me with a harried expression. “You used dish soap,” he says, shaking the suds off his arm, still looking at me although he’s speaking to Erin.
“Oh. My. God.” Kendall’s voice rings through the house.
The heels of her shoes click against the hardwood, and then a loud grunt and thud tell me she’s fallen.
I turn back to the living room and see her struggling to stand up. Making my way over to her, I feel the slickness of the soap under my tennis shoes. I wrap my hands under her arms to lift her like a child, which I know by the glare she’s giving me, she doesn’t appreciate.
“What is this?” she asks, looking around.
“Don’t turn on the vacuum! You’ll break it, and probably kill yourself in the process!” Landon’s voice booms.
Kendall eyes me with curiosity and then removes her heels. Holding them with two fingers, she leads me back into the kitchen, sliding every few steps. I place a hand on her elbow to offer her stability, and then grasp a leather bound photo album she shoves into my chest that the bubbles are getting dangerously close to reaching.
“I’ll grab the Shop-Vac,” Landon says, lifting our house vacuum and heading out the garage door.
Erin grasps a hand towel, and starts uselessly blotting at a pile of suds. “Look, they’re going down!” she cries eagerly.
“I don’t think that’s going to help,” Kendall says, heading toward the kitchen counter. Before she gets all the way to it she slips and falls unceremoniously with a quiet squeal.
“I don’t understand what happened?” Erin looks around the kitchen, hovering by the washer that’s still spewing suds.
“You put dish soap in the washer. What don’t you understand?” Landon asks. An extension cord that he’s plugged into an outlet in the garage trails him as he carries the Shop-Vac in.
“Is that why it smells like lemon?” Kendall asks.
“That’s why our house looks like a fucking full-sized bathtub!” Landon shouts. I’ve never heard Landon shout. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him even raise his voice unless he was drunk and telling a story.
“You don’t have to be such an ass about it. I was trying to do you guys a favor and do some fuckin’ laundry.”
I cringe. I don’t know if it’s her voice, or her incessant need to use that word, but my ears feel like they’re ready to bleed.
“What did you wash?” Kendall asks, looking slightly fearful for a new reason.
“Stuff that was in the laundry room.”
“What stuff exactly?”
“Why are you interrogating me?” Erin screeches.
“Max!” Kendall’s voice rises in warning.
“Don’t yell at him!”
Kendall’s eyes widen as her head snaps to Erin. She takes a few slippery steps closer to her and I momentarily pray she doesn’t attempt to practice her newly-learned punching skills.
“I can’t do this any
more!” She raises her hands in the air and turns back to me. “I’ve held my tongue, waiting for you to stop and realize that you’re making a mistake. You need to get your ass up and go to Delaware and stop this shit or we’re all moving out!”
I feel Landon’s eyes on me and turn to see him giving me an expectant look, not making any effort to disagree with Kendall’s threat.
“Delaware?” Erin asks. “Why in the hell would he need to go to fuckin’ Delaware?”
“Fucking. Fuck-ing!” Kendall screams. “He needs to go to fucking Delaware.”
“I’m leaving, I’m not going to allow you to treat me like this!” Erin moves and slides against the floor, but continues through the house, slamming the front door as she leaves.
“God, never again am I allowing her in when no one else is here.” Kendall says, shaking her head as her eyes rove over the kitchen. “How much soap did she add? An entire bottle?”
“An entire fucking bottle,” Landon says sarcastically.
I don’t know what to do. A part of me feels guilty for the way Erin was just treated and that side is telling me that although she’s driving me out of my mind, I shouldn’t be a dickhole and just let her walk away without saying something. Part of me wants to yell at Kendall for bringing up her again for the twelve hundredth time this week, realizing that she’s been slowly incorporating her into more conversations lately. And another part of me just wants to ignore everything, and focus on cleaning up the suds that are somehow still pouring out of the washer.
Landon takes a step forward and pushes the coffee maker back further on the counter and with his next step he falls with a loud thud, and suddenly I’m laughing. I’m hurting, I’m laughing so hard.
Cleaning up the mess goes surprisingly fast with the Shop-Vac, however the residue left behind is a bitch. The floors feel like we’ve waxed them with furniture polish. Kendall and Landon don’t complain as they help me scrub everything in an attempt to lessen the slickness.
Jameson arrives home and falls on his ass within seconds of walking through the front door, confirming our efforts are wasted.
“Son of a bitch,” he mumbles, rubbing his elbow.
“We need to go find some of those orange cones to steal,” Kendall says, shaking her head.
Jameson’s less than amused when Kendall shares with him what had transpired this afternoon, not even bothering to look at me as he shakes his head.
I stare out across the night sky, wondering what she’s doing right now. Is she looking at these very same stars?
“Hey, Son, you decided to stay off the ice rink, huh?”
I look over as my dad steps out onto the patio, leaving the lights off as he makes his way over to where I’m sitting.
I don’t laugh or make a joke like I think he wants me to. Instead, I ask the question that’s been eating at me for years, “Where have you been?” I ask, looking up to notice an airplane as it flies overhead, reminding me again of her.
“Everywhere and nowhere,” he answers quietly as he sits beside me. I can smell the scent of tobacco and fresh coffee on him, even though it’s after eight. He told me that it’s his vice now that he’s quit drinking.
“I was never trying to leave you kids, Max, not permanently. But once I was gone things got a lot worse for me before they got better, and once they got better, the guilt was too much. I didn’t know how to come back and tell you all that I had problems. Even though I was getting them taken care of, I still couldn’t admit it, not to you kids, and not to your mother.
“After a few years passed I thought it might be too hard to have me back in your lives. Where would I fit? I didn’t know if you had a new daddy, or if you hated me, or even remembered who I was.”
“Jesus Christ, of course I remembered you! You’re my dad!”
“I was your dad, but I was never much of a parent. Hell, I’d probably rather you didn’t remember what you do about me. Can’t none of it be too great.”
I don’t bother objecting. He’s right.
“Regret and fear walk the same tight rope. You avoid the situation so you won’t have to deal with the possibility of failing, but with that you risk never getting resolution. Those could bes just clang around in your mind and your heart, eating at you until you feel you’ve sold your soul, all so you could keep a moment of your pride and skip having to subject yourself to looking like an idiot.” He sighs, and clamps a hand to the arm of his chair as he leans forward.
“I’ll tell you this much, if there’s anything that I’ve learned over the last thirteen years, it’s that pride and fear are in no way worth what they’ll take from you.”
He stands up and I watch him look up at the sky, and follow his gaze. “I came over to tell you that I’m going to be heading to Arizona tomorrow. I’m going to go meet Billy and Hank for some dinner. I plan on being back in a week, but might stay a little longer. It depends on how things go.”
I nod a couple of times, shocked to hear that Billy’s agreed to meet him.
“I love you, Son.”
My jaw clenches and I nod once again before I hear him make his way back inside.
It’s been a week since the washing machine incident, and I still haven’t reached out to Erin nor heard from her. I lift my phone and slowly trace my thumb across the screen:
Me: Hey, sry I hvnt called. Theres a lot going on right now. Maybe we can C how things r in a couple of wks.
She doesn’t reply. I don’t expect her to.
Jenny comes out to the backyard where I’m testing a sample of the hot tub’s water and smiles at me.
“Hey,” she calls warmly.
I lift my chin to her without moving my attention from the small vial in front of me.
“How are you doing?”
I nod a few times, hoping she’ll stop trying to talk to me. Having the sisters become more and more comfortable with stopping by announced or not is one of the biggest points against Kendall still.
“I have something to tell you, Max.”
I hate the fact that my heart works vigorously to allow hope back in as I glance as her face. I swallow and it’s audible as my eyes travel over her face that looks anxious with nerves and excitement.
“Ace is coming for the wedding next week. She’ll be staying with Mindi and Kyle, but I want you to know that she’ll be here. I felt bad about no one telling you about Christmas. She seems better and I think that—”
“It’s over. You know that.”
Her lips press together as she looks at me. “I do, but I still think you two should clear the air. The whole family loves you, Max. It would be nice to see you again, and I really hope that you still come to the wedding. It would mean a lot to both Adam and me.”
I don’t bother giving her false hope or promises that we both know I can’t keep. I have no intention of going to the wedding.
I want to ask if she’s bringing him, Danny Hirsch, with her, but the words won’t seem to form because my heart refuses to hear the answer.
I turn off my truck and idly wonder if Landon will be waiting for me on the other side of the door. I don’t allow the thought to slow me down. Approaching the door without Zeus on my heels makes things a little more real for me. I knew if I brought him, he’d go crazy and wake her up, and right now, I need to go in without him making a scene so I can just see her. I left him at my mom’s, where I’m supposed to be staying for the next two weeks. My dad offered me his spare room, but I’m still not ready to be that close to him. I’m sure I could have crashed at Wes’s or Erin’s, since two days after texting her, she showed up at the house acting as though nothing ever happened, but I wasn’t about to. Wes’s roommate makes me want to punch him on a regular basis, and Erin would likely read too much into things. Plus, I can’t see her right now. Once again my mind plagued by her, and it’s a constant battle to not reveal it.
The lock quietly clicks free and I push the door open, hearing nothing but the erratic beating of my heart. The house is dark but so is
outside, so I’m able to make out shadows to get across the living room without running into anything. I stop beside the chair that sits next to the couch and grip the back of it. I feel like I need its support to keep me upright, or to feel something so I know this moment is real. Or maybe to keep myself from touching her, because every cell in my body is reacting to her presence.
Emotions rage inside of me like an aggressive tide, filling me with anger, resentment, frustration, lust, fear, and a million more that I don’t bother to identify. I hate that I still feel so much for her, that she can cause this strong of a reaction from me.
Her hair’s longer than I’ve ever seen it, and her skin lighter, yet just like seeing her on TV during that match, I recognize everything about her, even these new, unfamiliar details. Her cheeks aren’t as hollow and her arms don’t look so angular, but she still looks too thin.
She also looks beautiful.
She takes a deep breath and my body freezes, each muscle flexing as I prepare for her to open her eyes and find me staring at her. She wiggles, her hand pulling on the blanket covering her, but her eyes remain shut, and soon her lungs being to pull normal breaths again. I release a deep sigh and feel my heart slowly work to even out.
I stare at her for long moments, recalling so many memories, and then no thoughts whatsoever as I realize I need to get the hell out of here when she resituates once again, pulling the blanket free from her feet this time. I grab a throw blanket from the back of the chair and catch sight of her suitcases on the floor. The image of them sends a tremor of pain through me. She’s here, sleeping on my couch. She is so close, and yet so fucking far away that it makes me feel crazy. A blue shirt sits on the top of one of her suitcases, folded in half lengthwise. I remember too many details of her. I know that having the shirt folded like this indicates it’s dirty.
My hand swipes down and fists the shirt before I can consider why I’m wasting the time, and I smell the scent of her with the slight stir of the air. The fabric is cool and silky beneath my fingers, and my heart once again feels like it’s beating too fast.
