Out of the Blue: Reed Security: Book Two

by Robin Leaf

  Flambeed mom says what?

  My mother, who has always preached to stick it out in the tough times, is giving me… wait… is that… approval? For getting a divorce?

  What in the actual fuck?

  So my life just got Fresh Princed. Yeah… flipped-turned upside down.

  Half of me wants to stay and hear the conversation she’s having with Douglass, but the other half, the stronger half, needs a minute away to process.

  The doorbell rings, thank God. “I’ll get it,” I practically yell, all but running to the front door.

  I open it to my brother, who looks surprised to see me.

  “Dink? What are you doing here?” he asks, kinda rudely, pushing me out of the way to enter the house.

  “I was invited, asshole.”

  I look outside, expecting Julie and his urchins to appear, but they don’t.

  “Where’s your family?”

  He whips around so quickly, I wince. “Yeah, Julie took the kids and left me, thanks to you.”

  “Thanks to me? How did I get pulled into your crazy?”

  “She said that if my sister won’t put up with a cheater, why should she put up with me?” He starts pacing back and forth.

  “Sounds like she left thanks to you, not me. But here’s a way she wouldn’t have left. Maybe don’t cheat on your wife.”

  “First of all, I didn’t cheat. She left me for no reason.” He stops pacing and looks at me. “No wait, she left me because you made it okay, so I blame you.” He steps closer.

  My brother and I have never been close per se, but he’s never been threatening toward me, either. I kind of fear him right now.

  “Ember is not responsible for your wife leaving,” Daddy says, appearing over my shoulder. “Julie gave you a choice and you chose wrong.”

  Emory laughs, and it’s kind of scary. He’s kind of twitchy, way more hyper than I’ve ever seen him.

  “You know, Dad,” Emory says, raising his voice. His fists are balled. “I came here because I wanted some support.”

  “And I’m sorry your wife left you, son, but I can’t support you due to the reason why.”

  My brother steps back, narrowing his eyes. “You’re supposed to support me no matter what.” Shaking his head, he adds, “But no, she’s your favorite,” he spits, pointing at me. If I didn’t duck out of the way, he would have poked me in the boob. “And since she’s here, you’re going to push me aside and treat me like shit like you always do when she’s here.”

  Douglass appears around the corner and steps up to Emory, pulling me behind him.

  “Hello, Emory,” Douglass says smoothly.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Emory sneers, like an honest-to-God, Billy Idol-esque, teeth-showing, sneer.

  “I’m Douglass, Ember’s friend. It seems you’re a bit wired today, so maybe you ought to leave before you upset your parents more than you already have.” The calmness in Doug’s voice almost makes him seem bigger, more threatening, a little scary in fact, and I find I like it. “When you calm down, maybe then they can support you better.”

  Whew, my vagina is sweating. Damn.

  And I can tell my brother is intimidated, but he doesn’t back down.

  “Fuck you. I’m not letting some stranger kick me out of my parents’ house.”

  Uncle Danny, who just came out of the hallway restroom, appears over Dad’s shoulder.

  “No, but you’ll listen to me,” he says, using his scary-cop voice. Emory’s eyes widen when he sees the look on Dan’s face, so he turns and grabs the door knob.

  “He probably shouldn’t drive,” Douglass says, making a move to follow him.

  Dan stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “I got him,” he says, following Emory out the door to his car.

  I watch the door close, stunned. First of all, I never knew my brother felt that way about me. I always felt he was treated as the golden child. Hmph. It’s all about perspective, I guess.

  Secondly, I realize that my brother is on something, and the way he was acting, it’s likely cocaine. I would have never guessed he would show up to our parents’ house under the influence. It would ruin his perfect image. I had him all wrong.

  Douglass grabs my hand. The concern on his face is comforting and sweet. “You okay, Blue?”

  I nod. “I’m sorry you have to keep asking me that.”

  “I’m sorry there keeps being reasons to need to ask you that.”

  He kisses my forehead quickly, pulling back to study my face.

  “I need to go finish cooking.”

  Again I nod, smiling just for him. “Yeah, go.”

  I turn to Dad, who’s watching Douglass walk back to the kitchen.

  “Well,” I begin, drawing Dad’s attention, “who would guess that out of this family, you and I would be the ones to not show up to a family function stoned?”

  He ignores my comment. Not even the usual smile at my inappropriate humor. Usually, Dad is the only one in the family to appreciate it. Nope, not this time. He just furrows his brow and nods his head toward the kitchen.

  “You are not just that man’s friend, Dink.”

  I roll my lips into my mouth, biting them. “We –”

  “The way he charged out here to protect you? There’s something more going on.”

  I take a deep breath to control myself. I’m not sure what to say here.

  “I have a stalker.” I blurt, trying not to sound like a whiney little girl complaining to her father.

  “Yeah, your uncle told me.”

  My mouth drops at the announcement. Wow, he knows?

  “And you haven’t checked on me or told Mom?”

  “In my defense, he just now told me. And he said that the stalker hasn’t done anything alarming yet.”

  “Well, except for breaking and entering, but that was to clean my apartment, which is both weird and creepy.” I shuffle my feet, afraid to admit the next part. “So Uncle Dan called in a favor and got me a bodyguard.”

  “And the bodyguard fell in love with you,” Dad adds, like he’s finishing my sentence.

  I spit laugh through my lips, all over my dad.

  “No, Daddy, chill. He’s only been my bodyguard for four days. No one falls in love that fast.”

  “I don’t know, Dinky, you just might be special. I mean, I certainly fell in love with you the first time I saw you.”

  I bump his shoulder with mine. “Yeah, but dads are contractually obligated to love their kids, goof.”

  “Nope, there are plenty of men out there who don’t harbor any feelings toward their children. You see it all the time.” He boops my nose. “It’s you, kid. You’re magnetic. I mean, c’mon.” He smiles. “You did make a gay man fall in love with you.”

  “Oh, God,” I whine, throwing my hands out to the side. “When is that going to stop being a thing?”

  “Why do you think I had to chase all the boys away in high school? I was saving you from the wrong ones getting too close.” He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “But I’m not chasing this one away. I have a strong feeling about him.”

  I look to the door, wondering why Uncle Danny hasn’t returned. “Should we check to see what’s going on with Dan and Emory?”

  “I think it’s best we let Dan handle it. Your brother’s been on a rocky path for a long time. He needs to hit bottom. Maybe losing his wife and kids will do just that.”

  “Yet another thing you guys didn’t tell me about.”

  He shrugs. “You’ve been so busy, we haven’t seen you. We didn’t want to worry you. And it’s not something you tell someone over the phone. ‘Hi, Ember, it’s Dad. Your brother is an addict. And Kelly Cross commissioned a surfboard today.’”

  I grab Dad’s arm. “Oh my God, did he?”

  He laughs and throws his arm around my shoulders.

  “I wish. The biggest surfer in the world has sponsors who pay for his own personal board maker, so he doesn’t need my little label, but I did book a few veterans and a
n up-and-comer.”

  “That’s amazing, Dad.”

  He hugs me to him. “I’m gonna go see what your mom and Doug are doing. We probably shouldn’t have left her alone with him.” He turns to walk toward the kitchen. “Those edibles make her horny.”

  Jesus. Let the whole-body shudder commence.

  “Um… Gross.”

  He turns just before he rounds the corner and smiles. “Why do you think she let the quiche burn?”

  Yeah, double gross.

  So now what? Do I follow Dad into the kitchen? I really don’t want to after that revelation. I don’t think I will look at Mom the same way again.

  To distract myself from the ickies, I turn to peek out the front window to see what’s taking my uncle so long. Emory’s car is out front, but Dan’s has disappeared. He probably took Em home.

  Walking back toward the kitchen, I am stopped by the pictures on the wall. Man, my mom was crazy about those annual family pictures, always by the same photographer. We had to wear coordinating outfits. It was super-duper fun. And by super-duper fun, I mean annoying as hell. It was really the only time my brother and I bonded over anything.

  I see Dad’s awards on the shelf. He worked as a mechanical engineer for some large conglomerate. He invented some mechanical thingy that made production go faster. Someone suggested he patent it and make it for other companies, so he created his own company. Then he sold the company that makes the thing for a shit ton of money, but he still owns the patent. He not only gets a percentage of the sales, but he was able to retire before the age of sixty. Now he follows his passion of designing and making surfboards by hand. Daddy Z’s Surfboards.

  “Oh,” my mother says, startling me, “there you are. Your dad thought you’d be right in, so I came out to check on you.” She moves right next to me, popping my personal bubble space. “I really like your friend.”

  I don’t turn her direction. I’m still a little skeeved. “Yeah, I could tell.”

  “Oh, you stop it, Ember Nichole.” She smacks my arm playfully, like we’re the kind of people who do that shit. Newsflash, we never have been. “I was being welcoming.”

  “Any more welcoming, Mom,” I keep my voice impassive, “and you’d have tried to make out with him.”

  “I would not.” She looks the direction of the kitchen and lowers her voice. “But I bet he’s a good kisser.” She turns to me. “Is he a good kisser?”

  “I’m not going to discuss how good of a kisser Douglass is.”

  She nods. “So you have kissed him then.”

  “God, Mom, stop.”

  Rocking on her heels, she nods again. “I just think he’s perfect for you.”

  I turn to face her fully, lowering my voice so we’re not overheard. “How do you think he’s perfect for me?”

  “Because a mother knows, dear.”

  “Really, even though he has tattoos,” I say.

  She squints one eye, or maybe it’s a wink. I’m not sure. “I thought he might.”

  Wow. Is this even my mother?

  “Well, he is a bodyguard and a tattoo artist.”

  “So?” she asks, shrugging and smiling. It’s… weird.

  “What about how he looks like a guy who has had a lot of girlfriends and certainly could never be with someone as mousy as I am? Or how about just saying something about me not being good enough for him, since you’re obviously taken with the man?”

  Now it’s time for her mouth to drop open, like she’s stunned that I would even think that she would say any of this. Has she not lived in the same relationship as I have for the last thirty-two years?

  She scoffs, “When have I ever said any of that to you?”

  I look back in my rolodex of a memory to pull up one specific thing she’s said, but I can’t recall anything that fits the context of my speech, except…

  “You asked me why I tried to look mousy once.”

  “Because you were wearing a mouse costume to that Halloween party. I was trying to make a joke, but you got all offended and huffed out of here.”

  I roll my tongue in my mouth. Yeah, that’s pretty accurate. I focused on her comment and not the circumstances surrounding it. I did that a lot. God, I was kind of a brat in high school, one of those “my mom is ruining my life” types.

  “Yeah, well, you did tell me that you were raised to believe that tattoos were something only trashy people got.”

  “Yes, but I also lived in a time where it was against the rules for girls to wear pants to school until my junior year.” She shrugs. “Times change.”

  “You said I wasn’t good enough for Walker.”

  “No, I said you and Walker weren’t right for each other… I meant because you didn’t have a penis, and I thought you’d figure it out.” She shakes her head. “Everyone knew he was gay but you and him.”

  “You never said anything.”

  “No, because as I’ve explained, I needed proof. But even if he wasn’t gay, Ember, he never looked at you the right way. Now, Dugger on the other hand, looks at you like he wants to protect and devour you at the same time. He looks at you like you are the single most precious thing on the planet, and honestly, I saw you look at him the same way. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.” She grabs my shoulders. “You grab on to that man and do not let go. If anyone deserves to be cherished, Ember, it’s you.”

  Twenty Four

  Dugger

  “You’ve been quiet for the past hour. Did my mom or dad say something to upset you?” Ember asks, pulling her seatbelt across her chest.

  I glance quickly at her, not really ready for this conversation.

  “They didn’t say anything.”

  I know it’s too much to hope that she’ll leave it at that.

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  What’s wrong? I’m pissed as hell at her, and I haven’t had time to cool off properly. I’ve had to listen to her family praise me for the food, and then they discussed her brother’s downward spiral, one they’d hadn’t told her about until now, and what they could do to help him. My only contribution was to suggest to let him come to them for help. If Emory doesn’t want their help now, they will be wasting their time.

  Then we discussed her stalker. She was surprisingly open with her family about how he’s freaked her out, and they expressed belief in me to keep her safe. That was both flattering and unnerving. For her parents to have as much faith in me as they do… I’m honored and kind of freaked out.

  The whole time I’m seething after overhearing her conversation with her mother about me. I will talk to her about it, but I can’t now, not until we have time to discuss it.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Really? You’re going with the female response of ‘I’m fine,’ when you’re obviously not fine?” She shifts in her seat to face me. “Did I do something wrong?”

  I grip the steering wheel tighter. I don’t want to lie, but I can’t talk about it yet. I take a moment at the stop sign to look over at her. She’s wringing her hands like she does when she’s nervous, but she’s smiling encouragingly, probably hoping I’ll say she didn’t do anything.

  “Can we talk about it tonight after we move Mabel?”

  She shrinks into her seat and whispers, “So I did do something.”

  A car horn sounds behind us, so I concentrate on leaving the neighborhood and getting to Mabel. We have two hours before the surprise movers I arranged yesterday show up. I want to get as much done as possible before that happens.

  We ride in silence all the way to Mabel’s house. I concentrate on breathing; she fidgets, wringing her hands and bouncing her knees up and down. When I pull up to the curb, I shift into park, and she turns toward me so quickly, I flinch.

  “Can you just tell me if you’re going to break up with me? I mean, I know we’re not really together, but I’ve felt a connection to you.”

  “Ember, –”

  “Sure it was physical at first,” she continues, “but now, I feel like w
e’ve connected on a deeper level, like we were going somewhere, and I know this is probably too early to discuss the whole, ‘where do you see this relationship going’ thing, but I really do feel like we have a future, or I did thirty minutes ago, especially since you’re the one waiting to have sex with me. If you didn’t want to forge a relationship, you could have fucked me a few days ago and had someone else take over the duties of guarding me, but you didn’t. And I’ve been wracking my brain trying to come up with something I could have said or done, and I got nothing, so can you please at least just tell me something, otherwise I’m going to drive myself crazy.”

  “Jesus, Blue,” I say, opening my car door. “We may be too late for that.”

  I stand and round the car to her door. No matter how angry I am, I’m still a gentleman. She wordlessly stands, not looking at me, and heads toward the front door of Mabel’s large house. Walking closely behind her, I opt not to touch her, although I want to very badly. When we get there, she steps aside, allowing me to knock. When I step back, she turns toward me, keeping her eyes averted.

  “Is that it? You met my family and you don’t want to be involved in my crazy? Did they scare you off?” She swallows, closing her eyes tightly. “Did you finally realize that I’m not… right for—”

  The door flies open to Mabel’s elated face, which quickly turns to concern.

  “Oh my Lord. What’s wrong?”

  “Just a rough morning at my parents’ house,” Ember says, glancing quickly at me. “My mom was high, my brother’s an addict, and I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

  “That sucks,” Mabel offers. “Come in and we’ll talk while we box.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “So what’s wrong with you, Boy?” Mabel asks when we leave Ember to box items in another room.

  I smile, trying to slip on my “I’m okay” mask.

  “And don’t you tell me nothing is wrong. You haven’t said a word today, just been eyein’ that girl like she’s gonna explode, or like you’re trying to make it happen.”