Baby Daddy Can't Get Enough

by B. B. Hamel

  “Shots?” Wayne asks.

  “Come on, dude,” Harry says. “We can’t get wasted. Every single fucking year, we get wasted, and it’s always bad. Always. Bad.”

  “Can we get wasted?” Wayne asks Casey.

  Casey glances at me.

  “Don’t look at him,” Harry says, laughing.

  “I guess we can,” Casey says.

  I groan. The guys all laugh, except Joel.

  Shots are ordered, shots are downed. Except for Casey, I notice she doesn’t actually drink her shot, just puts it back down on a table. Nobody comments.

  Harry wants another but I beg off.

  Emily, her husband Frank, and their little baby daughter Ruby come over. I hug Emily, introduce Casey, and scoop Ruby up into my arms. “You’re getting huge,” I say, pretending to be unable to hold her. She laughs as I bobble her around. “So heavy, my god. You’re a giant rock, Ruby!”

  She giggles and Emily rolls her eyes.

  “Her favorite uncle,” she says to Casey, who’s giving me a strange look.

  “My favorite niece,” I say before putting Ruby back down. She teeters to her dad and he scoops her up. “How’re the stocks, Frank?”

  “Stocks are great,” he says.

  And that’s about the extent of my relationship with Frank.

  We mingle for a little bit longer. Things are mellow for the moment, a little tame. But I can see cracks starting to form. My brothers are doing another shot, this time with Emily and Frank. I don’t know where Olivia is, my youngest sibling, which can’t be good. Uncle Toby is ranting at Aunt Sara and her husband Earl about something stupid, and my parents are also nowhere to be seen.

  “I thought you said this was going to be awful,” Casey says once we’re alone. She sips her champagne, her cheeks slightly flushed. She looks fucking gorgeous and I take a second to drink her in, especially compared with the preppy people all around us. There’s nothing hard or edgy about Casey, not really, but the way she’s dressed and the way she carries herself sets her apart.

  I like it. She’s real, somehow, more real than anyone else in this room. Maybe even including me.

  “It’s early,” I say. “Just you wait. And my parents aren’t here yet, so nobody’s performing.”

  “Is it really like that?” she asks. “I mean, do your parents really run the show?”

  “Yep,” I say. Before I can go into details, there are some shouts from the other side of the room. We look over to find Mia and Anne in each other’s faces, screaming about something. Their father pulls them apart and Anne storms off toward the kitchens. “And there’s the first casualty.”

  “Mia said that would happen,” Casey says.

  “Really?”

  “Predicted a few fights.”

  “I’m sure she’s right. She’s got a good eye.”

  Mia grins at me from across the room and waves like nothing just happened. Everyone’s already moving on, since seeing two siblings fight and scream at each other like that isn’t exactly something new in this insane family.

  People start drifting to the table. Dinner’s going to be ready soon. More drinks make the rounds although I hold off. Casey and I get seated across from Emily and Frank. Uncle Toby is on my left, Casey is on my right, and Olivia appears to sit on Casey’s right.

  “Hey, sister,” I say.

  She glances at me. “Hey,” she says before looking away.

  I frown but don’t let it get to me. I’m sure she’s annoyed about something. I’ll find out sooner or later.

  Food starts to arrive and more people drift to the table until nearly everyone’s present and seated, except for my parents. The first course is salad, which gets picked at for the most part as wine is poured.

  Just as Uncle Toby starts in on his second story about the illuminati, the doors open and my mother appears pushing my father in his chair. The room quiets down almost instantly as everyone watches them approach. Mom’s dressed in a plain button-down shirt and dark slacks, while Dad is in a suit.

  He looks like shit, which isn’t unusual. He always looks like shit these days. Puffy, pale, halfway there.

  “Thanks for coming, everyone,” Mom says as she pushes Dad into his place at the head of the table. His head lolls to the side, but his eyes do seem somewhat sharp and with it. She lingers behind him. “I just wanted to say, from the bottom of my heart, that I’m so happy my family can be here. Family is the most important thing.”

  “To family!” Wayne says, raising a glass.

  Everyone takes up the toast. Mom stays standing though, a smile plastered on her face. When the toast is done, she speaks again.

  “There’s a new addition to the family here with us tonight.”

  My heart falls through my body. “Get ready,” I whisper to Casey.

  “Our oldest son, Ryan, has been a handful, as you all know,” Mom says. I cringe but refuse to take the bait. I plaster a smile on my face and ignore the eyes turned on me. “We’ve been wishing he’d meet a good girl for a long time, a nice girl from a nice family. You see, Alexander and I believe that the company must be passed down to someone with a family, so that the line may continue. Ryan didn’t have a family, at least until now.”

  Everyone’s staring. I glance at Casey and she’s smiling like a moron, her face red, pretending like it’s totally cool and normal and nothing to see here, just two people smiling and enjoying a totally normal speech.

  “I’d like to formally welcome Casey to our family. And I’d also like to announce that we’ll be having a wedding this week.”

  There are a few audible gasps. It’s like a fucking soap opera.

  “Yes, I know. It’s last minute, but it’ll only be our family. Attendance is mandatory, Toby.”

  That gets a few laughs. He grins like he gets the joke.

  “So, this Saturday, we’ll join together to watch Casey and Ryan become officially man and wife. Please, enjoy the week, and join me in a toast to the future happy couple.” Everyone raises their glasses, everyone stares. “To Ryan and Casey.”

  “Cheers!”

  We toast, clink, and drink. Mom takes her seat, and the next course is served.

  More chatter. Olivia is pointedly not looking at me, which is annoying. I shoot Emily a look, which she just shrugs at.

  Dinner is pleasant until Joel and his wife get into a whispered argument. It lasts for maybe thirty seconds before he finally quiets her and they both sit there with stupid smiles on their faces, pretending like everything is okay. But it puts a strange damper on the evening and Casey leans over to me. “Mia predicted that, too,” she whispers.

  “What else?”

  “I don’t know. I’d rather not stay to find out.”

  “You’re doing great. Just keep smiling.”

  “I feel like my face might fall off.”

  I laugh a little. “Get used to it. That’s the old Boulton smile. Do it until it hurts, baby.”

  “Quit flirting with me.” Her eyes sparkle a little in the light.

  “If I were flirting, you’d know it.”

  She laughs again at my corny line and the staff refills our drinks. She ignores her wine and tries talking to Olivia, but my sister gives her a venomous look and stands suddenly.

  “I’m not pretending like this is fucking normal,” she says. She’s staring right at Casey the whole time. “You’re a fucking stranger.”

  Without another word, she turns and storms off from the table. Everyone watches her go then everyone turns to watch Casey’s reaction.

  She suits there for a second, totally at a loss, before turning back.

  “I think she likes me,” Casey says.

  Uncle Toby laughs loudly and a few other people chuckle, breaking the tension, and conversation resumes.

  I can’t help but smile proudly.

  The night wears on. As the food keeps coming and the drinks keep pouring, more fights happen and more people storm out of the room. By the end of dinner, we’re down a
few couples and a few cousins, including Connie who got so drunk she ended up puking under the table. After that, people pretty much lost their appetite and the crowd disperses.

  I grab Casey’s hand and pull her toward the head of the table. My mother is starting to wheel my father out and I intercept them before they can go.

  “I just wanted to thank you both,” I say. My mother stops and turns to us. “For letting us get married here. We decided it’s important that we get married with the family.”

  “Good,” Dad says, the only word he’s spoken all night.

  Mom gives me a tight smile then wheels him away. We watch them go before my brother Joel appears by my side.

  “I know what you’re doing,” he says softly.

  Casey looks at him but I take her hand in mine, squeezing it softly. “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Come on. I know. Don’t act like you’re being subtle.” He looks at Casey and practically sneers. “Where’d you find her? And how much?”

  I laugh a little. “Seriously, a hooker insult? That’s pretty dumb, even for you.”

  “Come off it. She’s doing this for money. Whether you’re getting to fuck her in the deal, who knows. But it’s always about money with us, brother.”

  I squeeze her hand again. I can feel her getting ready to say something, but now isn’t the time.

  “What do you want, Joel?” I ask. “You should go back and argue with your wife. I’m not interested.”

  He smirks. “Just wanted to say that I see through your bullshit and Dad will too. I have a steady family. I have two children. We’re solid as a rock. You just have this… girl.”

  “Unfortunately, Joel, there’s nothing steady or solid about your family, and I think everyone knows it. So you can go ahead and fuck right off, little brother.” I put an emphasis on little and it makes him practically turn red with anger.

  Before he can retort, I pull Casey along and we walk away.

  “What a dick,” she says.

  “I know.” I glance back but we keep going. “Come on. Let’s be done for the night.”

  “We can go?”

  “My parents are gone. Nothing else matters.”

  We leave the banquet room. I’m feeling tired and full from eating and drinking, and I don’t want to risk anything else going wrong in there. We step up onto the stairs and begin climbing again, heading for the room.

  We reach the top and Casey hesitates. She looks up at the chandelier then back at me. “He’s right, though,” she says.

  “What? Joel?”

  “This is about money.” She says it softly, but I look around anyway, making sure there’s nobody near that could overhear. Even the staff are a part of this game.

  “Don’t say that out loud again,” I whisper to her, stepping closer. I back her up, into the shadows of the hall, the deep shadows cast by the chandelier. I back her against a wall and nearly pin her there, but I don’t touch her. I stand close, our bodies inches apart. She’s breathing fast and looking at me.

  “It’s true though. What if he’s right and I’m just… I’m just a whore?”

  “Casey,” I say.

  “What?”

  “This is the game. You get that, right? You can’t let them get to you.”

  “I’m just saying—”

  “Casey.” I reach up without thinking and put my hand on her cheek. “Listen to me. You’re not a whore. I don’t… I don’t own you.”

  “Yeah,” she says.

  “Do you understand?”

  “I get it.”

  “I hope you do. Joel will say anything he can to make you crack and break, but you have to ignore him.”

  “I’ll try.” She looks into my eyes for a long moment. “You’re dangerously close to breaking my rule.”

  “Yeah? Tempting.”

  “Ryan.”

  I take a breath and step back. “Right. Come on, let’s call it a night.”

  She nods but I swear she’s blushing, her cheeks flushed, her breath coming fast.

  We walk back to the room in silence. She undresses in the bathroom, brushes her teeth, and puts on pajamas. When she’s done, she climbs into bed, and it’s my turn.

  Finally, we’re both in that big bed together. I’m so tempted to reach out and touch her…

  But hands to myself.

  “Goodnight, future wife,” I say.

  “Night, asshole.”

  I grin up at the ceiling, a smile on my face.

  She did good tonight.

  I just hope she can keep it up.

  7

  Casey

  I’m up with the sun and out jogging along the beach before it’s fully over the horizon. I need to do something to get my mind off this place, and running seems like a pretty good solution. It’s warmer and more comfortable than I thought it would be, although still not hot like it is back in the city. I work up a good sweat and head back inside. The place is still empty as I walk the halls.

  It’s almost a little creepy. Nobody’s alive yet, except for a few staff members wandering around the place. Nobody bothers me and I don’t bother anyone else. I take the opportunity to look around some more.

  I find a few interesting room. One looks like a cigar club, with a huge humidor in the back. There’s a room with instruments strewn all over and a big grand piano in the middle. There’s a room with treadmills and weight lifting equipment, and I linger in the doorway until I spot Ryan working out in the corner. I watch him for a long moment but leave before he notices me.

  I keep thinking about that dinner last night. I think I only saw what’s happening on the surface, but there must be a lot more beneath it all. There’s a lot of history in this place and between these people, and getting dropped into the middle of it like this doesn’t leave me much room to figure things out.

  After walking for a little while, I end up down in the kitchen. I just want some water, and end up finding a glass and filling it from a sink. A woman in a black shirt and matching pants nearly collides with me and takes a sharp, surprised breath.

  “Sorry!” I say.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay.” She shakes herself a little bit. “Just scared me, is all.”

  “Sorry. I’m Casey.”

  “Hi, Casey. I’m Beth, the chef.”

  “Nice to meet you, Beth.”

  We shake hands. She gives me a warm smile and I swear it’s the first show of genuine kindness I’ve gotten since coming here.

  “Can I make you something? Maybe an omelet or something? I’m not busy for a little bit yet. The others like to sleep in.”

  “Oh, I’m okay. I, uh, maybe just some toast? But I can do that maybe, and—”

  She laughs a little. “You’re not used to this place yet, are you? Think of it like a hotel. They pay me a ridiculous amount of money to stay here a few weeks every year and cook for everyone, so don’t feel shy asking for something.”

  “Thanks,” I say, flushing a bit.

  “No problem. I’ll rustle up some toast. Want butter?”

  “Please.”

  “Anything else?”

  I frown a little. “Coffee.”

  “Coffee,” she repeats, nodding.

  “A lot of it.”

  “One large pot of coffee.”

  “Can you bring it to me in a bathtub?”

  She laughs. “One bathtub-sized pot of coffee. Coming right up. Which room are you in?”

  “I’m with Ryan.”

  She gives me a knowing little smile. “Ah, I thought I recognized the name.”

  “People are talking about me?”

  “Of course they are, honey. But they’re not talking to me. So go ahead, go get showered, I’ll have someone bring your food up soon.”

  “Thanks, Beth.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  She smiles again then hustles off. I watch her go then walk back to the room, feeling strangely good for the first time since we landed on this awful island.

  I push the
door to our room open and step inside. I go right into the bathroom and turn on the shower. I strip down, lock the door, and hop inside. The hot water feels great. When I’m done, I towel off, wrap my hair in one and another around my body, before sneaking out into the main room.

  Ryan’s still not back yet. I head over to the dresser I put all my stuff into and open a drawer to grab some clothes.

  But there’s nothing in it.

  Frowning, I try another drawer. And another. And another.

  Each and every one of them is empty.

  I stand there, staring, for a long moment. I find my suitcase and open it up, but there’s nothing inside. I could’ve sworn I left some clothes behind in there.

  Empty now. Everything, empty.

  I check all the drawers in the room. They’re all empty, including the ones that used to hold Ryan’s stuff. I try not to panic but I feel it coming on. My clothes are gone, which means my only clothes are now dirty, sweat-drenched workout stuff. I’m pacing the room in just a towel when the door suddenly opens and Ryan comes in, wheeling a tray along behind him.

  “Found this outside,” he says, looking down at it. “That’s a lot of coffee. Think you can share with—” He looks up at me and stops mid-sentence. I swear, his jaw drops.

  I put my hands on my hips. “What?”

  “You’re just wearing a towel.” A little smile crosses his face.

  “Don’t get any ideas.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “I can see ideas forming. Stop it right now, Ryan.”

  “Well, some are forming. Good ideas, though, I promise. Very good ideas. Dirty ideas, but good ones.”

  “Ryan.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll stop forming new ideas, but the old ones are staying.” He cocks his head, looks me up and down. “They’re very good ideas, Casey.”

  “Our clothes are gone.”

  It takes him half a second to understand what I just said. “Excuse me?”

  “Our clothes. They’re all gone.”

  He makes a face then walks to his dresser. He pulls it open and, sure enough, there’s nothing inside.