“Can’t we just talk about something else? The weather, your next hair appointment?” I send her my puppy dog look, my best attempt to curtail this disaster of a conversation.
Instead, she swats me upside the head.
“Spill, you little bugger. Or no smoothie for you. And I added extra peanut butter …” She moves the glass away from where I sit at the counter.
“Okay, okay!” I’m a sucker for her chocolate peanut butter smoothies. “Well, it’s no secret that your husband is a douchebag, so I guess that’s why.”
“Do not speak about your father like that!” She shakes her head, grinding the contents of the blender one last time. “He is looking out for you. He just wants you to do well, Caro. But, we’ve spoken about his behavior. I think it might be good for you and him to sit down and talk.”
She pours the thick smoothie into large glasses and my mouth begins to water.
But, then I felt it. Anger. Creeping up into my pores. She always took up for him.
“Not happening, Mom. I’ve heard my entire life, about how much of a failure I am. About how much I don’t measure up. I don’t need to sit down with the bastard to be berated for another forty-five minutes. Tell him he can write me a note. Or better yet, text me. I can delete that faster.”
“Ay, Caro, you only see the smaller picture. Sometimes we need to step outside our own box to put ourselves into someone else’s shoes.”
My mother, the beautiful, elegant, smart woman that she is … has never, ever grasped the Americanized versions of clichés.
“Besides, I think he will have some things to say to you that might surprise you.” She pushes my smoothie across the counter and takes a tiny, bird-like sip of her own. “But let’s get to the real reason you haven’t been here. Who is the woman?”
I nearly shoot smoothie out of my nose. I swear to God, my mother is psychic. And has voodoo powers.
“Wha … how … how did you know?” There was no point in trying to cover up my relationship—whatever it is—with Minka. First off, my mom would have seen right through it. And second, I don’t want to hide Minka from anything or anyone in my life. I am damn proud that she even let me talk to her, let alone do the other things I had. Okay, no thinking about Minka’s body in the presence of my mother.
“Oh, you’re so cute, Caro. I told you, I know everything. And … Maria also called and asked if it was okay to stock the beach house with liquor. You didn’t think you were going to just call her and not have it come back to me, right?”
Shit. I hadn’t thought about Maria, the caretaker at our Outer Banks house, saying anything to my mother. Busted.
“Yeah … I should have known better. Should have asked her to lie.” I give her my angel smile and can see some of the fake scowl melt off her face. “But, you’re right. There is a girl. And she’s amazing.”
A beat of silence goes by as I tip the glass up to my face and suck down some of the delicious smoothie. Damn, I hope there’s more in the blender.
“So, that’s all you’re going to say …?” She blinks at me, waiting for more. Jesus, women are such gossips.
“What else do you want to know, Mom, jeez.”
“Oh, I don’t know, her name, where she lives, what she likes—”
“Her birthdate, social security number, family status?” I finish, smiling into my cup when she tries to swat me upside the head again. “Okay. Her name is Minka Braxton. She lives here. She’s smart, athletic, beautiful …”
“Ahh, he is his father’s son. You and him, always suckers for the beautiful ones.” She laughs, staring at the ceiling as if my taste in women is just all too funny. “You really like this beautiful girl?”
“Yeah, I really do.” I smile. Just thinking about Minka and everything I have planned for us this weekend makes my heart feel too big in my chest.
“I think it’s great. You haven’t talked about a girl since that awful Allison in high school. If she makes you smile all goofy like this, she must be worthy of my perfect boy.” She touches my cheek and I swear I see her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“Okay, calm down, Mom. It’s not like I’m getting down on one knee tomorrow. She isn’t even my girlfriend yet.” Although if I have my way, this weekend will change all that.
“Yes, I know that, Caro, but a mother can dream. Ever since you’ve left my house all empty, all I can imagine is little grandbabies filling it back up!” she says dreamily as she walks to the sink, putting her glass in it.
Okay, girlfriend I could accomplish for her. Grandbabies … yeah that would have to wait.
16
Minka
“Okay, so I brought over like, every sexy nighty I could find in my drawer!”
Chloe dumps a sparkly pink tote all over my bed and a jungle of silk and lace cover the entire comforter.
“Chlo, I’m going for like two and a half days …” I look to Kelsey for help, who snorts and shrugs, turning away to wrap my jewelry in a pouch. Chloe catches my look and scowls.
“Oh, whatever, you two! This is the most romantic thing that has ever happened to any of us, I’m allowed to go a little crazy. Plus, you need to look irresistible when you finally get back on that horse.” She winks at me, clearly talking about the sex that is apparently on everyone’s mind.
Yes, they are helping me pack for my weekend with Owen at the beach, but I really needed them here more for moral support. This is the closest I’ve ever gotten to having sex since Gregory and I needed a pep talk.
“What if I freak out?” I voice the thought that has been circling my mind for days. Ever since Owen asked me to go on the trip.
“You mean like seize up in terror and chop his dick off?” My eyes flare wide at Kelsey’s imagination. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of physically hurting him! “Calm down, crazy. You’re not going to freak. And you definitely won’t chop his dick off. Although, you may give it the time of its life.” She sticks her tongue out. What was this? Make-sexual-innuendos-at-Minka Day?
“You’re going to be fine, boo. Nothing thus far has given you any indication you’ll freak out. In fact, you’ll melt in that boy’s hands like putty if all the things you have told us are correct. So, I think it’ll cum to you just fine.” Chloe snickers as she pats my arm. Then, grabbing a handful of pink and lace and silk says, “I think these ones are perfect!”
Yeah, no. Pink was my color in accessories, maybe a handbag or a shoe here and there. But, I couldn’t cover myself in the stuff like Chloe did.
Sifting through the pile, I select a tasteful navy number and a lacey white bridal looking number. Hey, I am technically a born-again virgin, no one has touched my lady bits in a long time. It would convey the right message.
“I’ll take these two.” I fold them and lay them in my small tote bag.
“Those are sooooo Minka.” Kelsey rolls her eyes, turning back and stuffing two particularly teeny bathing suits in the bag.
“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not the nude beach type,” I drawl sarcastically.
“That was only a couple of times in France. And don’t knock it till you try it.” She points, giving me the stink-eye.
I need to change the subject. The butterflies in my stomach thinking about sex with Owen are giving me indigestion. And that’s the last thing I need for this car ride with him.
“Hey, you know who is single?” I turn to Chloe, knowing the news will excite her.
“Who?” My best friends chirp at the same time. We are nothing but shameless gossips, the three of us. But then again, who isn’t? If you try to deny it, I’ll call your bluff.
“Miles Farriston.” I smile chummily, folding a pair of pajama shorts on top of the burgeoning pile of clothes in my weekend bag.
“What! Ooh, Chloe might have an orgasm on the spot!” Kelsey bumps her hip into Chloe’s slender thigh. Yes, Chloe is tall, but my other soul-sister is tiny. Kelsey’s petite frame barely comes up to Chloe’s shoulder.
“Wait, really? I thought
he was dating some hoity-toity college girl. Or at least that’s what his Facebook said last week.” She blushes.
“Guilty! I see you, Facebook stalker.” I stick my tongue out at her.
“Oh, whatever, don’t think we don’t notice when you literally go through all of Owen’s pics in one sitting.” She and Kelsey share a private grin. The boy has a lot of dreamy pics. I can’t help it.
“Yes, he is very photogenic. Sue me. Back to the matter at hand, though. Farris. You gonna make your move. Finally?”
She shrugs. “Maybe. What has Owen told you?”
Ah, the inside intel game. I see her strategy. “Not much. Just that Farris isn’t taking the breakup well, but that his ex was a total scheming gold digger. Owen hated her. Maybe you can nurse him back to health, if you know what I mean.”
“Look at Queen Conservative making a sexual suggestion! I like what Owen has been doing to you. He has my vote.” Kelsey nods seriously.
I pick up a beautiful blush pink maxi dress I bought this week and fold it delicately before placing it in my suitcase. “Well, he does have some magical fingers.” I wink and both girls gasp at my sudden kiss-and-tell attitude. “But that’s all I’ll say!”
“Well, getting back to me, maybe I will go after Miles. There is still about a month left to this summer. And it’s been totally boring so far. I need some action.” Chloe walks across the room on her tiptoes and plunges into a deep plié when she reaches my dresser.
A knock comes from my door. Hm, I’m not expecting Owen for another twenty minutes.
The door opens and there stands Dad. My eyes widen and I stare in surprise. Wow, he doesn’t usually make an appearance in the middle of the day. Better yet, I don’t remember the last time he had made an appearance. He’s been avoiding the house like the plague for the last week. Ever since I unleashed almost eighteen years of emotion on him.
And shit. I haven’t even told him I was leaving for the weekend. And now I’m scrambling in my brain for some kind of excuse …
Which all goes out the window because my two best friends, who I would have used in ninety-nine percent of excuses, are here. Helping me pack. For my trip to the beach with Owen. Alone.
Double shit.
He eyes the open duffel bag on my bed curiously.
“Hello, girls, how are you?” he asks politely.
“Great,” Chloe says, a hostile tinge to her tone. Of course, the girls knew my feelings about practically being an orphan and Chloe isn’t the type to leave the thoughts in her mind.
“Nice to see you, Chief.” Kelsey, who on the other hand, flirts with my dad mercilessly. I think she partially did it because my dad was “cute” (her words). Or the fact that it made him hideously uncomfortable.
“Ahh, Minka can we talk in the kitchen for a moment?”
Here we go. Better bite the bullet now. Whatever, if he threw a fit I’d just run away. Not like he would notice for a day or two.
“Sure.”
I throw the girls an eye roll before following him through the house and into the kitchen.
We stand face-to-face, leaning against the granite countertops. I wasn’t speaking first. He called this little family meeting and I am not about to start this chat off.
“Listen, I … um, I want to apologize for not being around much lately.” He’s avoiding my eyes, looking anywhere around the kitchen but at my face. At this current moment, he looks like he’s addressing the toaster.
I snort. “Lately? Try like … the last eighteen years.”
“I know, Minka. I haven’t been the most attentive father, but—”
“No, Dad. You really haven’t been.” I can feel the lump starting to form in my throat. Shit, today was supposed to be a good day. I did not want to cry.
“You know why it’s so hard for me. Why I can’t …” He makes a waving motion between us.
“Yes, I know. Mom died. But guess what? You still have one woman in your life. One woman who very much wanted you to be here,” I snap at him, feeling the tears shift in the wells of my eyes. Soon they’d be spilling down my cheeks.
My father stands there, motionless. I think I see his jaw tic. We never speak about her. Never bring her up.
My mother.
She died almost eighteen years ago while giving birth to me. Complications with the labor, they told my father.
Not that he’d told me that. Kelsey’s uncle is friendly with my dad and he spilled the secret after hours of drinking. Kelsey told me when we were ten.
“You had me, Dad. The little girl who felt ashamed because her dad would never come home to spend time with her. Wondering what she had done to drive him away. The little girl who had to hide a picture of her mother in her bedroom drawer for fear she would get in trouble. The little girl who only ever wanted love and affection. And instead, was met with a big, empty house.”
I sniff, trying to suck up the tears that are already dripping down my face. My voice is hoarse as it leaves my body. I can’t keep the feelings in anymore. He wasted eighteen years, eighteen years, on his grief.
I look up and gasp. My father, the police chief, stands in front of me with tears in his eyes.
“You just … you look so much like her.” His voice barely registers above a whisper. His hand moves almost of its own accord and comes to rest on my cheek. “It hurts to look at you sometimes.”
He wipes at his eyes, trying to get his emotions in check.
“I’m so sorry, Minka. I know I’ve drowned us both in my ocean of grief. I just … when your mother died, I went with her. My soul was crushed. I didn’t know how to take care of a baby. And I especially didn’t know how to do it without the woman that I loved more than life itself.”
He stops, choking up at referencing Mom. It’s something he hasn’t said out loud in years.
“When I brought you home from that hospital … this place. It smelled like her. It had her style. I could still see her clothes laid out on the bed. She was in every corner of this place. Those first few years were a special kind of hell for me. So as soon as I was able to put you in daycare and get out of this prison, I did. It’s why I never come home. I can’t stand to sleep in our bed. The bed I shared with Grace. It’s just so much easier to bury the pain in my work. And then you started to grow up. You have her hair, her eyes, her smile. When you put on that dress for your first spring dance, my heart almost damn near stopped. You were the spitting image of Grace. I didn’t come home for a week after that. I couldn’t handle it.”
I knew he hadn’t come home that week. If he had, he would have found me sitting on the bathroom floor, sobbing uncontrollably while contemplating if I should end it all.
“I’m just so damn sorry, Minks. You mean everything to me. And I’m so damn proud of you. I know how accomplished you are. What an amazing young woman you have become. I know … I know I’ve messed up. And you don’t owe me a thing. But, I want to try. You only have one more year left at home. And I want to prove it to you that you mean more to me than anything else in this life. Can I do that? Can you let me do that?
I think I’m standing in a puddle of tears, I’m crying so hard. Silent sobs wrack my body. I give him a slight nod.
I never hated him. I understood his pain. But I wanted to get through our pain together and develop our family. No matter how small it was.
He moves to envelop me in his arms and I squeeze him back. Relief gushes through my system. This is the moment I have been waiting years for and we were finally going to work on our relationship. Pushing back, I try to cut the serious moment with a joke.
“So now would be a great time for you to begin your trustful-dad phase and let me go on a trip alone with my sort-of man friend to the beach.”
“Wait, what?” He looks down sternly as he wipes a tear from my cheek.
“Well, so … there is this guy who recently came into my life. He’s really great … and um, he asked me to take a trip this weekend with him. And he’s picking me up in twenty minutes.
” I try for my best innocent smile.
“And you think I’m just going to let this little boy take my daughter away, alone I presume, for three days?”
“Yes? Come on, Dad, this is our first test. You can trust me. I promise. Owen is a great guy and he will take care of me.”
Just then, the doorbell rings with the arrival of Owen. Welp, guess it’s as good a time as any to introduce him to the folks. Or folk. Okay, that joke was probably too soon.
“And that’s him now!” I smile, turning to grab his hand and pulling him to the front door.
I open the door and lose my words for a minute. Owen stands casually on our front porch in a loose white button-down and khaki shorts. Both perfectly tailored to him. I can make out the lines and curves of his muscles through the fabric. His golden-brown hair is slicked back the way I love it and he’s wearing aviators on his prominent nose. I think I had to pick my jaw up off the floor.
And then I see his face as my father crowds into the doorway behind me. I can’t help but laugh at his panicked look as he rips the aviators he’s wearing off his face. Glancing back, I realize my father is still in uniform.
“Dad, this is Owen Axel. Owen, my dad.” I make short introductions.
“He … hello, sir. Really nice to meet you. You have an amazing daughter,” Owen stammers as he sticks out his hand for my father to shake.
My father grips it, hard. I see Owen go a little pale. I can’t contain my glee.
“That’s Chief to you. As in Police Chief. Which is who I am.” My father puffs his chest up. Oh lord.
Owen shoots me a death glare. Whoops, had I forgot to mention that?
“I understand you want to take my daughter away for the weekend.”
“Uh, yes, sir. Only if that’s okay, Chief. I can promise you, she will be protected, safe, and I will and already do, regard her with the utmost respect.”
Suck up.
“Well, if you leave me the address of the beach house, your license plate number and a cell phone number I can call then she is allowed to go. But I warn you, Axel. Any funny business with my little girl and I will have every cop in the state make sure to pay you a visit.”
Over the Fence Box Set Page 11