A Certain Girl

by Tymber Dalton

  “Have you done any sightseeing while there?” she asked.

  “No, Ma’am. Been too busy. When I wasn’t too busy, I was too tired.”

  “Didn’t you schedule any time off, sweetie?”

  “No, Ma’am. Not besides game nights. I knew it was going to be a long enough trip as it was. I just want it done and get back to you.”

  Even after all these years, he could still twist her heart around his in good little knots. “Aww.” She was usually the only one who got to see his soft side like this. Friends thought he was a big goofball, a playful, funny guy.

  His soft, vulnerable side was reserved nearly exclusively for her. Even Kailey didn’t usually get to see this side of her dad.

  Nearly forty-five minutes later, he’d finished eating and it sounded like he was starting to drift off.

  “I need you to get some sleep, sweetie,” she said. “You sound exhausted.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” He yawned. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too, honey. Have a good night. Text me when you wake up in the morning.” Once she ended the call, she immediately texted Kailey.

  Don’t tell your dad about moving yet. He’s having a rough trip. I’ll tell him after it’s done.

  She responded after a couple of minutes.

  Yes, ma’am.

  Eliza snorted as she read her daughter’s text. Yeah, I guess I do rule the roost.

  Chapter Three

  “So you haven’t said anything to Rusty, huh?” June asked.

  It was too damn early on that pre-dawn Saturday morning for polite conversation. But since June had offered to come with, and she was driving them up to Gainesville, the least Eliza could do was respond.

  “No, he’s not having a good trip.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I mean, and this is between us, of course. You’ve seen him. You know what he’s like. It’s been almost three weeks since he was home, and he’s got another week to go. He has to spend this entire trip ‘on.’ In Dr. McElroy mode. He’s not used to that. He’s used to getting daily decompression with me, even if all we do is snuggle on the couch and watch TV.”

  “Yeah, I understand that. That’s me with Scrye.”

  “It wouldn’t shock me if he starts talking about maybe retiring.”

  “Wow. He’s awfully young to retire, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, but we were smart early on about saving. And we didn’t have to buy a house, either. We paid Corey and Marcy a fair share years ago, even though he didn’t have to. His mom left the house to him because he was older than Corey. And Rusty worked his ass off taking care of Corey after she died. But he wanted to be fair.”

  “Did they ask for it?”

  “No. Kind of a ‘welcome to parenthood’ gift from us when they had Jordan. We took an equity loan, but we paid that off pretty quickly.”

  “Then why do you sound like him retiring isn’t a good thing?”

  Eliza stared out the windshield for a long moment. “Not that it’s not a good thing, but even though trips like this take a lot out of him, I think he’d feel kind of lost without a job. He’s damn good at what he does. And it’s not the kind of job where he could take a couple of months off and then come back. Shit happens fast in the world.”

  “Could he not take the overseas trips?”

  “Not when clients specifically request him, or he’s asked to be a keynote or featured speaker at a conference, like he was for this one.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yeah.” Eliza smiled. “My barbarian is a popular and well-known expert in his field.”

  “Still can’t reconcile a global financial expert wearing a T-Rex outfit with a bondage harness on it.”

  Eliza giggled. “It’s one of his many charms.”

  “So.” June glanced at her. “We scaring the living shit out of this kid today? Daddy told me I’m not allowed to shoot him, but he didn’t say I couldn’t terrify the piss out of him.”

  This was something Eliza had personally struggled with. “While I don’t want him hating me, I would appreciate a third party evaluating him. In all honesty, he seems like a good kid, but…” Another shrug. “I want another person looking at this situation.”

  “I can do that. But we’re good with me scaring him?”

  “Oh, we’re definitely good with you scaring him.”

  June’s smile would have chilled Eliza had she not been friends with the other woman for over twenty years. “Excellent.”

  * * * *

  They made it to Gainesville by seven and hit a drive-through for breakfast near Kailey’s apartment, opting to wait to eat there. When Eliza knocked, Kailey opened the door and greeted them with hugs.

  “Hey, Aunt June. Please don’t kill him.”

  June snorted. “Damn. We’ve got her trained well, don’t we?”

  Eliza traded a fist-bump with her friend.

  They walked in and Jerah, Kailey’s friend whom she’d lived with the past two years, emerged from her room to hug them, too.

  “I wouldn’t be letting her move in with him if I thought he was a jerk,” Jerah assured them. “I’m a protective bestie. His father’s a total tool, but Gerald’s a nice guy.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Kailey snarked. “I think.”

  They sat on the couch to eat their breakfasts while the girls finished getting dressed and started another pot of coffee brewing. There were stacks of neatly labelled boxes filling one corner of the small living room, meaning Kailey had already been working on this.

  Eliza expected no less of her daughter. Kailey wasn’t one to leave anything to chance.

  “How are we moving your bed?” Eliza called out.

  “Very carefully,” she snarked back.

  June giggled. “I forgot how much like you she is.”

  Eliza ignored her friend’s jibe. “No, seriously. How are we moving it?”

  Kailey appeared in her bedroom doorway. “Gerald and several of his friends are helping with it. I don’t want to completely disassemble it.”

  “I brought Dad’s tool bag with me.”

  “Oh. Well, that will help.”

  “Yeah, it will.”

  “What’s so special about her bed?” June asked.

  “It’s a queen-sized frame Rusty customized. He attached a fireproof gun safe underneath it, because he knew she wouldn’t be able to have a permanent gun safe in an apartment. It’s hidden by one of the side panels. The frame alone weighs several hundred pounds. It’ll hold her six skeet shotguns, with a little extra room for jewelry, her passport, things like that.”

  “Oh, wow!”

  “Yeah. It’s bolted together with some pretty beefy hardware, and it’s a massive pain in the butt to move.”

  Kailey finally emerged from her room. She now wore a T-shirt and shorts, and had pulled her long, reddish-brown hair back in a ponytail. “Promise me you won’t dislocate Gerald’s shoulder today, please?”

  Eliza held up a hand. “I promise I won’t attack him and that I will adhere to Florida’s ‘stand your ground’ laws.”

  June snickered and fist-bumped her.

  “Mom!”

  “All right. We’ll behave. Unless he gives us reason not to.”

  Kailey walked over, sort of hugging herself. “Mom, I love him, okay? I’ve asked all my friends about him, for their honest opinions. I really want to give us a chance.” She sat on the couch, next to Eliza. “He looks at me the way Dad looks at you.”

  Eliza sighed and finally hugged her. “Just remember school and competition comes first. You won’t get these chances again at this age. If he’s worth it, he’ll be happy to wait.”

  “He is, and he is.”

  Eliza was going to reply when there was a knock on the door. Kailey rose and answered it to reveal Gerald standing there.

  “Hey.” She greeted him with a kiss. “Why didn’t you use your key?”

  “Because I didn’t know if your mom was here yet. Hi, Mrs. McElroy.”


  June smoothly rose and seemed to study him. “This him?”

  “Yep.” Eliza stood. “Hey, Gerald.”

  June walked over to him. Even though he stood around six-two, he looked terrified of June, who was probably a foot shorter than him.

  June crossed her arms and stared up at him for a long, intense moment. “You know who I am?” she softly asked.

  Eliza somehow struggled against and overcame the urge to burst out laughing at the guy’s obvious terror.

  “No, ma’am.”

  June hooked a thumb at Eliza. “I make her look like Winnie the Pooh. I literally killed a guy who was attacking a friend of mine. I have a husband who makes Rusty look like a short, skinny twig. I have anger issues and a concealed carry permit.”

  Eliza was honestly shocked the kid hadn’t pissed himself yet.

  Kailey edged in front of him. “Aunt June, please don’t terrorize him yet. He’s just met you.”

  “But that’s the best time to terrorize them, sweetie. So they know what they’re dealing with.” She brightly smiled. “Besides, if he’s not a dick and doesn’t get on my bad side, then he has nothing to worry about, right?”

  Kailey rolled her eyes and looked to Eliza. “Mom, help. Please?”

  Eliza snorted. “Oh, no. If he wants to be part of this family, then he needs to get used to this now. Besides, if Dad was here, he probably would have already dragged him outside for a ‘chat’ alone with him. You know he would.” Rusty was several inches taller than the guy, and could easily pound the kid.

  Gerald swallowed hard, but didn’t reply.

  Kailey looked up at him. “It’s okay. They’re just really protective.”

  To his credit, he gently eased Kailey out of the way and stepped up to June, holding his hand out. “Gerald Louis, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you.”

  June scowled before bursting out laughing and bypassing the handshake to pull the kid in for a hug. “Honey, if you can get through that without pissing yourself, you can call me Aunt June.”

  Eliza walked over to hug him next. “And you can call me and Rusty Mom and Dad.” She hugged him. “But if you fuck up, you’re going to wish you’d never met any of us.”

  * * * *

  The kids had already been moving some things over to the new place, which they’d actually received the keys for yesterday morning. Small stuff, like kitchen items, clothes, and other things that they could either put away or stack off to the side, out of the way for moving in furniture. The small two-bedroom apartment was in an acceptable complex whose residents were a mix of college students, university employees, and young families.

  It was actually a better complex than the one Kailey had been living in, newer and with better amenities, not to mention fifteen minutes closer to campus.

  What sucked was that their unit was on the second floor, and there was no elevator.

  The first task was to move all of Kailey’s things over, starting with the bed frame. Since Eliza and June had the only truck, and it would take several of Gerald’s friends to help, Eliza got started with the disassembly process. She’d helped Rus build it in the first place, helping him with the modifications and the initial assembly in their garage before they’d disassembled it and delivered it to Kailey with a rented box truck.

  By late that afternoon, Gerald’s apartment was emptied and cleaned—because he’d already evicted his friend, who’d literally been living on an air mattress in the other bedroom and had no other furniture that was his—Kailey was completely moved, and they’d even moved most of Jerah’s boyfriend’s things over.

  Throughout the day, Eliza had carefully watched Gerald’s behavior…and had also watched June watching Gerald.

  On the last trip back to Jerah’s, alone with her friend in June’s truck, Eliza asked it. “Well?”

  June shrugged, not needing clarification. “I like the kid. He’s polite, he seems to be super-subby to Kailey, and don’t be shocked if we one day see both of them at a FemDom night at Venture.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”

  “Does she know about you and Rus?”

  “She knows I’m the head of our household and that her dad defers to me on everything. We’ve never discussed the…specifics. I mean, we had the sex talk with her, and she’s always known she can ask questions. And she has, in the past. Plus, she knows Rus is a nudist and likes to go to up to Terrapin Lakes. But I spared her the specifics of our sex life.”

  “Ditto. The girls know Daddy’s in charge, and Mom’s happy with that, but it doesn’t have to be their choice. We’ve talked about consent and what’s okay and what’s not.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Although, after the Fifty Shades stuff, it wouldn’t shock me if my girls know. Or if Kailey knows.”

  “Me, either.” They rode in comfortable silence for a moment. “It’s hard to let go.”

  June snorted. “Don’t I fricking know it.”

  “Now comes the hard part.”

  “Trying not to ask her every day if you need to come kill him?”

  Eliza laughed. “No, figuring out how to break this news to Rus when he comes home.”

  Chapter Four

  Rusty groaned. “Milo, what the hell, man?” He subtracted another six points from his hit points, leaving him at six.

  Not good, considering he was a barbarian and one of their party’s meat shields.

  And they were still in active combat against six opponents who were proving to be anything but squishy.

  “I’m sorry, dude!” Not only had Milo rolled a one before attempting to cast his spell—a critical fumble—Axel had made him roll percentile dice to see what kind of fumble he’d made. Then Axel consulted a fumble chart.

  Milo’s cleric’s spell had backfired and nailed Rusty.

  Somewhere beyond the reach of the camera of Eliza’s tablet, Axel evilly cackled. “The dice giveth, and the dice taketh away,” Axel said.

  “Your house rules suck,” Rusty muttered. “Fumble for spell failure shouldn’t include critical damage.” He adjusted how his tablet was sitting in his lap. He’d pulled on a T-shirt and shorts for the game, and sat propped against the headboard of his hotel room bed, his knees bent and the tablet resting on his thighs.

  This setup definitely beat the coffee shop from last week.

  “Not what you were saying when my rogue severed his own hand when Eliza fumbled her light spell while I was picking that lock during that last campaign you ran for us,” Axel said.

  Rusty wanted to come back with a snappy…well, comeback, but he was too tired, too brain-dead…

  And Axel was absolutely right.

  Rusty had cackled his fucking ass off that night when applying the fumble chart, laughing so hard he could hardly read the damn chart.

  He sighed and dropped his pencil onto the bed. “Yeah, okay, fair enough. Just be aware, everyone, that I’m down to six HP, and I only have two more rounds left in my rage before that ends and I lose more HP.”

  Darryl grumbled. “I’m down to my last healing potion. I’ll hand it to you my next turn.”

  “What initiative was that?” Axel asked. “Fourteen?”

  “Yeah,” several of them agreed.

  “Okay. Thirteen.”

  Eliza spoke up. “Thirteen. Keep your potion for now, Darryl.” She reached in front of the camera, which was focused on the battle mat and figures there, and moved her character into a square next to Rusty’s character. “I move there and cast cure moderate on our barbarian for”—the sound of dice in her felt-lined roller—“twenty-two points.”

  Rusty sighed. “Thanks, honey.” He noted it on his character sheet.

  “And you provoke an attack of opportunity from the Drow when you move past his square,” Axel said to Eliza. “What’s your AC?”

  Shit. She was their party’s strongest caster.

  “Sixteen,” she said.

  The sound of dice rolling. “You take five points slashing damage when you pass th
e Drow.”

  “Sorry, honey,” Rusty said.

  A moment later, his Signal app buzzed on his phone. He opened it to find a text from her.

  That’s okay, barbarian. I’ll fuck it out of your ass when you get home. 3;)

  He knew she meant it as a light-hearted joke, but a wave of homesickness slammed into him so hard and unexpectedly that he nearly started bawling right there. The only thing that allowed him to keep his shit together was knowing that everyone else could see him on the tablet.

  Well, everyone except Eliza, who, could she see him right now, likely would have snatched up the tablet and taken it—and him—into a separate room to talk in private.

  He didn’t want to embarrass her or himself in front of their friends, either.

  At least by that time next week he’d be home in Florida, with her, in their bed. There wouldn’t be any gaming next week with the two of them out, but they’d warned Axel and the others well in advance about that.

  This week had been another absolute grind. At least tonight he was in London, and would finish the rest of his trip there. He’d arrived late that afternoon, and would have meetings starting tomorrow afternoon and running up until late the night before he flew back to the States. He was far more familiar with the city than he was the others he’d been in, and speaking the language fluently didn’t hurt, either.

  He managed to pull himself together, though, before anyone noticed.

  Later, once he and Eliza were in her SUV and on the way home, she could speak freely. “I’m guessing you won’t let me talk you into doing something tonight?”

  “No, thank you, Ma’am. I’m too exhausted.”

  “Would you prefer I stop asking while you’re gone?”

  She’d asked nearly every time they had a chance to have a video call like this, which wasn’t every night. It depended on his Wi-Fi connection and schedule and energy levels.

  And he always felt vaguely guilty when he turned her down, because he knew she was worried about him.

  “Ma’am, I know I have permission. I just…can’t. Not this trip. I’m sorry.”