by Shaw, Robin
“Hey Mariska,” Scott said, ignoring Hunter’s undeniable presence. “I let your parents in.”
“Thanks Scott,” I said and I found myself fidgeting nervously.
“Mariska,” Mom addressed me as she entered the door, her eyes scanning the room as she twirled around.
“And what is he doing in your room?” Dad questioned me and I heard the door close.
“I’m Hunter,” he said. “Mariska offered me a can of soda, and now I am going home.”
Dad offered his hand to Hunter. “I am Jack Landry, Mariska’s father.”
Hunter nodded. “I’ll come back another time to see Beth—”
“At a more reasonable hour,” Mom cut in as Hunter breezed out of the room.
“Scott told us that you and him are going on another date tomorrow,” Dad said.
I drew in a fortifying breath. “Yes, Dad.” I swung my gaze to Mom, who looked like she was going to skin me alive. “How come you guys didn’t call? Whose watching Pete?”
“Mrs. Muldoon is watching him,” Dad responded. “Your Mom wanted to bring you some snacks”—Dad held up shopping bags—“so you wouldn’t spend all your money on those vending machines.”
A nervous noise escaped my mouth. “Scott, I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Nodding infinitesimally, Scott gave my hand a quick squeeze and Dad held the door open for him as he left.
“Why were you alone with Hunter?” Mom gestured me to sit on my bed and I complied. “Do you know how that looks?”
I wished I could’ve told her that tonight I’d made a big mistake. He’d proven that he could get through my defenses. I wanted her to tell me that I wasn’t a bad person, because I’d wanted Hunter to do everything he’d done to me. “Mom, Hunter had a crisis today and he doesn’t have many people who he talks to.”
“I don’t like the sound of that one bit, Mariska,” Dad told me. “You should be asleep. Not having men in your room at night. You’re working full-time at that restaurant and you’re a full-time student. You can’t discard how we brought you up, ‘cause you’re not in Franklin Parks.”
“I was talking to Beth’s friend. Scott has female friends in his room all the time. We’re not dating exclusively,” I tried to keep my tone even. I wanted to get into bed, bawl up under clean covers, and sleep for days.
“Are you talking back to me?” Dad’s voice rose and I glanced at my feet.
“I didn’t mean to,” I whispered.
“Jake, I told you that living with Beth would make her get out of control,” she remarked as if I wasn’t in the room. “Beth is warming up the sheets with that boyfriend of hers just like Cindy. It’s—”
“Mom,” I interjected, “I’ve asked you not to talk about Beth like that. She’s responsible and has every right to be with her boyfriend. So please leave her out of this.”
Mom fixed her gaze on Dad. “This is why she left home, Jack. To do whatever she wants.” Feeling defeated, I collapsed on my bed and stared at the ceiling. “Scott must think that guys come and go from your room,” Mom went on. “If that’s how you wanna carry on, come back home next semester before you really lose yourself.”
“You’re not giving me the chance to become whoever it is I wanna be.”
“Oh, Jack. She’s going through that dramatic rebellion. She doesn’t know that the real world will chew her up and spit her out for the rest of the vultures.”
***
BETH HELPED ME TAKE out the hot rollers from my hair Friday night. We’d met up after work and treated ourselves to massages, manicures, and pedicures. Every muscle in my body was wound tight. My parents didn’t understand that I didn’t want to be the obedient daughter, because I’d been told that I had to be all of my life.
“What did they say to you?”
I shrugged my shoulders. Inside I was fuming about how they’d patronized me. “They scolded me, because Hunter and I were by ourselves last night. Scott had to knock on our door with my parents in toe.”
I wanted to grab my keys, drive to Hunter’s house and give him a piece of my mind. “You had Hunter in here?” She peered at me through the mirror with a raised brow.
“Some friend of his picked up again and he had to take that friend to rehab. He was shaken up by it and I told him we could talk about it here.”
“That’s why he called me last night.” A concerned look flitted over her face and she shook her head. “He told me in the voicemail that it wasn’t an emergency.”
“I listened to him. I think he fears that his friend might leave treatment early or something.”
“Why didn’t you call me? Chase and I would’ve gotten hold of Hunter.”
“Because I felt for him. If you, or Jake, or Bri, were in Hunter’s shoes, I’d want someone to listen immediately.”
“Does this mean that you’re trying to get to know Hunter?”
“I’ve always tried to get to know him, seeing how he’s a fixture in your life now.” I rolled my eyes. “I was very weary of him and I still am.”
“And I am sure your parents don’t want you talking to him, because of his history.”
I threw her an amused look. “You think I told them he’s a violent addict? After getting the third degree from them, I realized that I can’t tell them about other people. I hadn’t mentioned Hunter before because he’s not someone worth mentioning.” My words didn’t seem to rouse a reaction from Beth, and I looked over my shoulder at the two dresses we decided would be suitable for my date with Scott. “Which one should I wear tonight?”
***
SCOTT PLACED HIS HAND on the small of my back as we entered an Italian Restaurant in downtown Miami. The Maitre’d seated us by a table with a great view of the evening sky. The ride over here was quick. He’d talked about an upcoming away game that the football team had next weekend, before Fall Break, and my life began to feel normal again. Mom had called me about five times on the drive to this restaurant and I knew that she had a ton of advice. Mainly that Scott shouldn’t come up to my dorm room and that I shouldn’t kiss him on the first date.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Scott told me and closed his menu.
I gave him a smile. “You look very handsome yourself. You’re always dressed so sharp that I wanted to look nice beside you.”
“Although I appreciate the thought, you look more than nice—every time I’ve seen you. You don’t have to put any effort into it,” he said. “So, I’ve gotta say that I didn’t expect Hunter to be inside your room last night. I don’t think your parents had either.”
“That won’t happen again. And no, they didn’t like it. But they like you. What did you guys talk about on your way to my room?”
“They asked me about my major, and my future plans.” My parents had acted exactly the way I’d dreaded that they would. It wasn’t like Scott and I were serious or going to ever be. While he was great tonight, his bachelor days weren’t remotely over. I knew about the girl he’d had in his room Saturday night. “My parent’s have asked every guy my sister has dated the same question and she’s not even in college yet,” he said with a laugh. “I guess your parents are like mine are—traditional. I bet your parents would be a few tables from us, chaperoning, if they didn’t think you’d call off the date altogether.”
I lowered my voice. “Unfortunately, that sounds like something they’d do.”
After we finished our meals, Scott ordered another glass of red wine.
“You can have a glass,” he told me. “They’re not going to ask for your ID. I come here all the time and they haven’t IDed any of my dates.”
I eyed him with my brows lowered to look put off. “Great to know that I am one in a long line of girls for you,” I quipped.
Scott swigged some of his wine and gave a sharp shake of his head. A line creased his forehead and he drew in a shaky breath. “Nah, I meant that you can have anything on the menu.”
I hadn’t seen Scott nervous before, and I wished that his con
scientious nature made my stomach flip like talking to Hunter last night had. Fighting a smile at the idea that I could make a great guy like Scott question himself, I pulled my lips inward. “I don’t mind that you’ve been here with many girls.”
A look of interest lit up his handsome face. “Why’s that? That isn’t the kind of information that leads to a second time,” he tried to say with mirth.
“Because, out of all the girls you’ve been with, surely you know that not all of them have the same things to offer you. And you were patient when I was twenty minutes late, because I couldn’t decide which heels to wear with this dress.”
Scott crookedly smiled at me. “I’ll take that. But I’ll admit that I don’t want Hunter to be one of the dudes you date after me. I heard what he did to my boy and he can’t handle being in the same room as people who drink. Did you see how he was crawling out of his skin during Beth’s birthday?”
My throat tightened as I recalled how unsettled Hunter had looked at her party. At first, I’d assumed that he hadn’t wanted to be next to me, but, as various emotions flashed in his eyes for that one rare instant, it was clear that he wanted to have a beer, but he’d fought against that craving. I gave Scott a nod and drank some of my soda.
“What’s he going to do? Get with a chick who is in”—He made air quotes—“recovery like him or who doesn’t drink or even smoke some weed? No girl will stick with him.”
“My co-worker wants to get with him. Someone may think he’s worth the sacrifice. Or think that it’s not a sacrifice at all.”
Scott nodded coolly and took a long drink of his wine. “But I think, eventually, any chick would resent him.” He titled his chin up. “It’s just that, from where I was standing last night, I thought for a minute that he was feeling you.”
I let out a laugh and I felt my face grow warm at the memory of Hunter stroking his finger along my inner wall as his tongue swirled between the lips of my sex. I tried to shake it off. “I think your mind was playing tricks on you.”
“Yeah,” he said in a sleepy grin. “Or it could be the wine talking.”
After he drove us back to campus, he led me inside our residence hall. His face split into a wide grin and he took my hands. When my gaze shifted from our hands and toward his face, he pressed his lips to mine confidently. There was no awkward silence or any opportunity for me to ponder if we’d part ways without a kiss.
“Do I get to see you again?” He was pretty confident after that kiss.
I wound my hands on his shoulders and pretended to think it over. “Forlini’s was delicious. Thank you.” I leaned in to give him a quick hug, but he hung onto me for several minutes.
“I’ll take you to another place I like after Fall Break.”
Chapter 9
Hunter
DAD STORMED INTO MY room with long sheets of paper I’d rolled up and hid in my trunk at my tree house. Glaring at me with those intimidating hazel eyes that had likely convinced jurors of his arguments, he tore one sheet of paper in two. I felt like he punched me in the gut real hard. I’d worked my ass off trying to draw the lines accurately of the neighbors German shepherd, but he kept on growing and he seemed to have muscle on top of muscle whenever I saw him. The dog’s name was Jerry and he always ran toward me when Dad wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
“Hunter, how’d you get the pencils and drawing papers? I didn’t give you enough money to buy these things?”
“Dad, I’ve been saving up my money,” I lied, because I wasn’t going to get Mother in trouble. She’d never made me feel like I wasn’t a good son, or a punk because I liked to draw. The only thing Chase and I both did together was swim, and those days were few and far between, now that he’d attended football camp for the past two summers and was on the youth football league. Chase wasn’t around, like he used to be. He’d watch me draw, or I’d practice catching a football with him on occasion. “I stopped for days and I couldn’t focus. I do the chores I am told to do. I do my homework.”
Dad ripped the rest of my drawings to little pieces on my floor. He bristled. “I’ve specifically told you to quit with that pansy shit. You’re not a kid anymore. If you spent more time reviewing how the different branches of government exerts their power, you wouldn’t have gotten a seventy on your exam at your Law Youth program.”
“I don’t wanna be a lawyer,” I told him in a low tone, when I really wanted to say that I hadn’t ever wanted to be one; I’d wanted to stay in his office with him while he went through tons of papers at his desk, because he’d looked so cool and important. Aside from those times I’d been with him in his office, I’d rarely seen him. Mom was either in her room or gardening.
“You think you’re going to make a living by sketching chicken scratch? Well, I’ve got news for you—in ten years, you’ll be flipping burgers if you don’t get out of that dreamer mentality,” he yelled, his voice echoing down the hallway.
A second later, Mother was by the other side of the door in her silk nightgown. Loose auburn waves were like curtains on either side of her symmetrical pale face. Her golden brown eyes grew larger as she gazed at little pieces of paper on the floor. She hadn’t purchased cheap sketch paper either. It took a lot to easily tear it into little pieces like that.
“Gerald,” Mom addressed him with a crack in her voice, “Hunter spent weeks doing those sketches. You’re such a bully!” She bent down and slowly began gathering the pieces of paper in her hands, her eyes filled with tears.
“So, you’re the one who bought all this junk.”
“I am the one who bought the easel in his tree house, the charcoal, and the pencils for his sketching,” Nana said as Mom dropped the papers into my trashcan and then stood up. “So, you owe me money back, because that’s my money in the garbage. You know I’ve got a fixed income at my age. Charlotte told me what my grandbaby likes when we were at the art supply store and I saw to it that I got it for him. Must you spoil everything?” She turned her back to him and by the time she was by my side, she was rubbing my back in soothing circles. My breathing was erratic and I tried to calm down.
“Mom, you’re spoiling his future by encouraging these fantasies of his. The only artists who earn anything substantial are the dead ones—”
Nana made a dismissive gesture at Dad and said, “He’s having a tantrum just like his father had.”
Dad told Mother. “If you told my Mom my stance—”
“You barked orders at me to not get him anything for his drawing or to speak about it, but he’ll go on doing it. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.” Swallowing hard, Mother’s gaze darted over to me and she moved her head a fraction of an inch. “Get some sleep, Hunter.” Her tone was soft, yet sad. Dad strode behind her out of my room.
***
SOMETIME AFTER NANA HAD tucked me into bed, I went downstairs to the kitchen and had some cold milk with chocolate cookies. I’d checked to see if Chase had been awake, but he’d been sleeping. Chase and I had had our own rooms since pre-school. Dad had told us when we started school this year that we had come into this world together, but we had to strike out on our own. Chase was great in every position he’d tried on the football team.
“Can’t sleep?” Nana snuck up behind me, laughing. I blinked twice at the white face mask she had on her face and I wiped the milk from my mouth and nodded. I knew that she did a lot to maintain her fit skin, but she scared me. She hadn’t stepped out of her room before without her hair curled and her face made.
I shook my head as she leaned over the counter. I pushed the plate of cookies toward her, but she declined. “You won’t stop drawing because your Dad is pigheaded about it, right?”
“No, Nana,” I answered and she flashed me a grin. “I don’t hear him telling Chase to stop with football.”
She cleared her throat. “Now, I know you might not know what I mean at nine years old, but my Paps had told me when I was a little younger than you that a man who stands for nothing, will fall for anything. You’ve g
ot to believe in yourself, even when everyone wants to steer you in all these directions. Because if you don’t, you may wake up one morning and realize that it is too late to do some things. You might have too much going on and you can’t draw when inspiration strikes, or when you really need to so you can unload from your workday.” Nana cupped my chin and a low chuckle vibrated from her chest. “You’ll be my age faster than you think and there’s so much beauty out there to be captured. Don’t let your Dad knock you down. Go put them cookies away and come sleep with me.”
“I’m nine,” I said. “I am not a little boy.”
“I am seventy-two years young and I want one more memory to take with me when I go to my house tomorrow.”
***
THE NEXT MORNING, I reached my hand out for Nana’s rollers, like I used to do on purpose to see if she’d swat my hand or make Freddie Krueger noises. I moved on my side and she was sleeping. Past ten in the morning. I knew it was Saturday and we’d talked a little before we fell asleep. I touched her face and it was ice cold. Since she had on thick wool pajamas and was under the covers, my heart began to race.
“Nana!” I screamed, putting my hand underneath her nostrils and I felt nothing. Then I put my hand to her breastbone and her body was frozen. Mother and Dad were in the room by the time I shouted her name for the hundredth or so time. Vision blurred, tears flowed down my face and trickled onto her neck. I didn’t want to let her go. I wanted her to be normal again. I needed her to wake up and have breakfast with us before she went home.
