Make Me Burn

by Marie Harte

  He knew Dana would have liked her. Dana, who loved goofy cartoons and read books until the spines broke, had a lot in common with Avery. He’d been able to tell Dana everything, even emotional crap.

  With Avery, he’d shared his feelings about his family. And last night, in bed with her before Gerty and Oscar had returned, Brad had told Avery how proud he was of his brother for dealing with his addiction and how he wished he could be a better man and love his mother without always noticing her flaws.

  “But you’re human, Brad. It’s good to have problems you can fix with yourself. Because that keeps you humble,” she’d said and smiled. “Or it should keep you humble. You’re a nice person, and kindness is vastly underrated.”

  For once, being called a nice guy hadn’t grated. The compliment had warmed him. Avery saw beyond his physique and his lifestyle. She wasn’t a firefighter groupie and didn’t want him to further any of her own goals. She seemed to like him for him.

  “Right, Brad?”

  He blinked at Erik, at a loss.

  Avery clutched him by the arm. “You know, Erik, Brad and I were just talking about that, how I have no intention of returning to hard-nose journalism, right, Brad?”

  Silence filled the room.

  “What’s that?” Len asked, frowning.

  “Dinner!” June hurried everyone into the dining room.

  “Way to drop the bomb,” Brad whispered to her as they followed.

  “I’m easing him into it,” she whispered back.

  She wore a shimmery green skirt that reached mid-calf over leather boots, paired with a cute pink blouse. She reminded him of a flower, and he promised himself to buy her pink tulips to show he’d been listening when she’d mentioned her favorite flower on the drive over. Back when he’d been taking a few glances at her full breasts, wondering if her nipples would be as pink as the tulips she so loved.

  They sat with her family, Brad and Avery on one side of the long table, Erik facing them. Her father took one end, her mother the other. A retro ’60s lampshade overhead accompanied the teak dining table and modern chairs. The whole home had an eclectic feel, as if some big money designer had whisked his or her way through and made everything expensive-looking and chic.

  “This place is really nice,” Brad said.

  June blushed. “Thank you. I designed it myself.”

  “Really? I would have said you paid a lot of money for a top-notch decorator.”

  “Suck up,” Avery said, not softly.

  Erik grinned. “She’s good. As amazing with design as Len is with words. You get your abilities honestly, Avery.”

  She smiled at the guy, and Brad nodded. “She’s gifted, all right.” He hadn’t meant any innuendo by what he’d said, but he noted a side glare from Avery and a frown from her father. “I mean, have you seen her show on Friday mornings? The Searching the Needle Weekly pet segment is now super popular.”

  “Pets Fur Life?” Her father snorted. “Anyone can smile and play to the audience. Avery, you’re so much smarter than that.”

  Brad didn’t like the guy’s tone.

  Avery responded, calm, collected. No doubt used to her father’s dismissive attitude. “It’s not about being smart. It’s about playing to my strengths.”

  June got up to grab something for the table, already set with fine china, cloth napkins, and real silver, was Brad’s guess.

  “Let me help you,” he said to her mother.

  June smiled her thanks. “You can carry the roast.”

  “You made a roast? You sure you want to stay married to that guy in there?” he asked as they entered the kitchen. The place looked like a cook’s dream. Dark-gray cabinets, marble countertops, stainless-steel appliances. And a huge kitchen island and prep sink filled with food that smelled so good he felt himself drool. “So, this is where Avery gets her love of cooking.”

  “She’s cooked for you, hmm?” She handed him the roast and grabbed two casseroles in large dishes.

  “Breakfast, but she says if I’m good, I’ll get a real dinner soon enough.”

  “Ask her to make her capellini salad. It’s amazing.”

  “I have a feeling she could make cardboard taste amazing.”

  June laughed. “Do you cook?”

  “I can make ramen and hot dogs. Does that count?”

  Avery looked up when he entered the dining room once more, her expression one of relief. “No, noodles and hot dogs don’t count.”

  Erik huffed. “Oh, come on, Avery. We had plenty of that in college, and you know you liked it.”

  Avery gave him a small scowl. “Back when I was a pauper, sure. But now I have a more refined palate.” She winked at Brad, who set the large roast down and sat by her again. Right by her side across from dickface, who frowned.

  “What’s wrong with hot dogs?” Erik gave Brad a look Brad couldn’t read.

  “You’re telling me you eat Oodles of Noodles and franks at your posh place in New York? Really? Is that how you’re hobnobbing with the celebs and power players in the Big Apple?”

  “Well, no.” Erik grinned. “But I still like a fresh New York City hot dog.”

  “Oh yeah.” Len agreed. “Gray’s Papaya. The best, hands down.”

  Erik scoffed. “What? No way. Feltman’s trumps Gray’s. Hell, even Nathan’s is better than Gray’s Papaya.”

  “Well, if you gentlemen would rather eat hot dogs than my rib roast, feel free. But Brad, Avery, and I are sharing this fine food.”

  Len and Erik looked at the food then at June. “You know, hon, I think you’re right. Erik, we should agree nothing beats my wife’s cooking.”

  “First true words you’ve said all night,” June piped back. “Let’s eat.”

  Brad didn’t have to be told twice. Fortunately, June took the helm and directed the conversation to upcoming Seattle events and some new plays she wanted to see. Avery and her father managed to have civil conversations about life in the city, and Brad saw them interact like a loving father and daughter for the first time that night.

  He was enjoying himself when something licked the hand he had on his leg. Startled, he immediately looked to Avery, as if she could have done it. Stupid.

  Then he heard a little whine. Expecting a small dog, he leaned down to glance under the table and spotted a giant Rottweiler.

  “I see you met Salty,” Len said with a sigh. “She’s in stealth mode, praying someone drops some meat. Erik, don’t you dare.”

  “Both hands on the table, mister,” June said, her lips twitching.

  “Ha. I told you he was always the guilty one, not me.” Avery chuckled and elbowed Brad. “Ignore her and she won’t pester you. Give her one bite of any kind of people food and she’ll be your shadow. Forever. Salty never forgets.”

  Erik nodded. “True enough. I haven’t been here in a year and she’s still waiting for me to drop something.”

  “Gotcha.” Yet as Brad peeked at her again, seeing those big brown eyes, he wanted to—

  “Brad, never look her in the eyes,” Avery warned and tugged him up. “That’s how she snookered my dad.”

  Len scoffed. “I would never corrupt our well-trained pup.” At his wife’s stern look, he muttered, “Narc.”

  Avery laughed, the sound free of familial burden, and Brad watched her, feeling that happiness blossom inside him into something more. Then her father broke the moment with some thoughtless comment about Avery looking foolish when she’d tangled with the Lab at the festival and leached the joy from her face.

  He wanted to pound the guy—not a great reaction to have for his girlfriend’s father—so he kept his gaze on his plate and finished his veggies.

  When he glanced up, he saw June watching him with a sweet smile. She winked and dropped something to the floor.

  Salty wasn’t quiet about eating it.
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  And Avery wasn’t subtle about letting her mother draw her father’s attention while she reached for Brad’s hand under the table and gripped it tight.

  Chapter Twenty

  Avery hadn’t talked to her father one-on-one in weeks, not since sharing dinner before he’d gone to New York. After being around him again, she sadly acknowledged why she hadn’t made a better effort to see him.

  For just a second there he’d treated her like someone he liked, teasing about her narcing him out. He’d talked to her, not at or about her. And that recognition had been amazing.

  Yet in the same paragraph he’d belittled her in front of not only her mom but Erik and Brad as well.

  Len looked from her to Brad and forced a smile. She could tell. “Say, Avery, could you spare me a minute?”

  “Sure, Dad.” Great. What would this turn into? More lectures? Opportunities for her to become something worthwhile? An arranged courtship with Erik? She’d been thinking about her relationship with her father for a long time. And none of her conclusions about dealing with him turned out well.

  June nodded to the men at the table. “Brad and Erik can help me with dessert in the kitchen. How do you fellas feel about cheesecake?”

  “Love it,” Brad said.

  “Yeah, me too.”

  June grinned. “That’s too bad. I made apple pie.”

  Brad snickered. “Oh yeah. Your daughter gets that attitude from you.”

  June laughed, though Erik shot him a less-than-friendly look.

  “Come on, Avery,” her father said, heading to his study. “I won’t keep you long.”

  She followed him, dread filling her as she walked the proverbial path of parental disappointment. But knowing nothing short of winning a Pulitzer would soothe her father, what choice did she have? Should she even bother trying anymore?

  Ensconced in his study, complete with the oversized mahogany desk and bookcases, two monitors and a high-end computer, printer, fax, and landline—likely coded with a direct line to the director of the CIA, she thought with amusement—Len sat at his desk and steepled his fingers in front of him. On the walls behind and around them were pictures of her father in foreign countries, shaking hands with dignitaries, and accepting awards.

  In the dining room Avery called an office, she had a poster of George Costanza, a Seinfeld character, posing in his boxers on a velvet settee. The Timeless Art of Seduction. She and Gerty regularly got the giggles when they looked at it.

  Avery sat in front of his desk and waited.

  “Honey, I’m really trying to understand you.”

  No, you’re not.

  “I spent a week with Erik, and what’s he’s doing is captivating. He’s doing a series of exposes on corruption among our civil servants.”

  “Oh, so that’s why you want him to talk to Brad? To see if he can dig up dirt on one of Seattle’s heroes?”

  Her father talked over her. “Erik said he’d be happy to talk to some people about getting you in at his paper. You’d have to start small, but you could easily work your way up. You’re terrific with research. Even doing what you do now.” Something he considered barely better than the scum one scraped off one’s shoes.

  “I don’t want to work there.”

  “I know it’s far, but the city has everything. Nightlife, action, theater—”

  “Crime, homelessness, astronomical housing prices.”

  He snorted. “We don’t have that here?”

  “Here I have an apartment I can afford with my best friend. My mother lives nearby.” She said nothing about her father, not that he’d notice anyway. “And I love my job.” I do. I really do.

  The revelation floored her.

  She’d been trying to please her father for so long. And though she kept trying to convince herself she liked what she did, it hadn’t taken. Until now. She was having fun. Emil liked so much what she’d been doing he’d offered her not one but two raises—small though they might be. And he wanted her as one of the faces of Searching the Needle Weekly.

  “You write stories about garden parties and Bigfoot sightings.” Her father scoffed.

  “Yes, because garden parties interest people. The city is known for its amazing blooms, something the people here have a passion for. And it’s not Bigfoot. It’s Batsquatch, though the Pacific Northwest tree octopus was seen just two months ago in Bainbridge Island. I should know. I saw the tentacle tracks.” She did her best to keep from laughing out loud, especially because she’d really annoyed her father.

  He glared and let out a beaten-down sigh. “I’m just about ready to give up on you, Avery.”

  “Why don’t you, Dad?” Yep, it had finally come to a boil. She was fucking done.

  He blinked. “What?”

  “I’m never going to be Erik. I don’t want to do what you do. I’m not Lennox King Junior. I’m me, Avery Dearborn, the new face of Searching the Needle Weekly’s Friday Feature. We help keep the city in touch with its people. We do human-interest stories, fun pieces on Pacific Northwest myths and urban legends. And we keep the joy and love for our neighbors in the news.

  “I want to make people laugh and not cringe when they look for what’s new online or in print. Life is about more than immigration reform and corruption in politics.”

  “That’s right. Pretend it doesn’t exist, like so many others, because that makes it all better.” He scoffed. “Jesus, are you even my kid? Ignorance is not bliss. Ask anyone who’s ever suffered oppression or discrimination.”

  That hurt. A lot.

  “I’m not saying we don’t have real problems, Dad. Or that I turn a blind eye to them. I don’t. But why does life have to be all doom and gloom? Why can’t I be an alternative to the ugliness of life?”

  “It’s not real.”

  “It’s as real as ripping kids away from their families because an administration is trying to make a point, which I can’t even begin to understand. It’s as real as the many homeless in our cities, the mentally ill, the poor, the diseased. It’s as real as the racism that never goes away, just gets covered up better by those in power. God, Dad, we have a lot of problems in our own city, let alone in our divided country. How about something that has everyone smiling? Or laughing? Or heck, clapping for? Stray animals need homes. People need jobs. Flowers need tending. Children helping and growing, raising awareness of the good in life.

  “Why is talking about any of that less important than ‘real news’? Why can’t it go hand in hand with your kind of story, to show that the world isn’t all crime and punishment? It’s love and laughter too, Dad. Something I think you too easily forget.”

  She stood.

  “You’re just so smart, and I hate to see you not living up to your potential. Damn it, Avery, we paid a lot of money for you to earn that degree you’re not putting to use.”

  Ah, there it was. The old college debt had resurfaced in the conversation. For a minute she’d been worried he might forget to mention it.

  “Another underhanded compliment. Thanks so much.” She sighed. “I wish, just once, you’d be happy for me and my choices. And for the record, we never had a formal contract outlining that you’d only pay for me to attend school if I worked in the career field of your choice. Which is funny, actually, because I am working in my chosen major, communications. So technically I should be getting your congratulations.” She gave him a bright smile. “Oh, and my new Friday Feature comes with a pay raise, I’m happy to report.” She raised a fist. “Yay, me.”

  Then she left before she gave in to the angry tears threatening to fall.

  She should know better. Not once had he ever been happy for her doing what she wanted. She couldn’t change him. But she could decide how much of her life he impacted from now on.

  She saw her mother out back with the dog, taking care of Salty, and had another moment of appre
hension. Were Brad and Erik playing nice? I really don’t need this tonight.

  She found them in the living room facing each other, like two gunslingers at dawn. Or rather, sunset. Keeping herself in the hallway out of sight, she listened in, trying to make out the conversation before she jumped in.

  “You two are a couple then?” Erik was asking. “Not a fake pair?” He laughed. “She once tried to foist me off on her parents as proof she was getting out more, back in college. Before we were dating.”

  Shoot. She had done that.

  She heard the back door open but kept her attention on the men in the living room.

  “Nope. Avery and I are dating.”

  “Brad, no offense, but you don’t seem her type.”

  “What is her type, Erik?” Brad had never used that fake polite voice with her, thank God. It sounded threatening, but Erik didn’t seem to care.

  “Someone like me, frankly. I’m not here to screw with you two. If she’s happy with you, I’m happy for her. But I’ll be honest. I miss her. I have feelings for Avery, and we have a past. If she’s serious about you, I have no plans to get in her way.”

  Erik was such a jerk. Why couldn’t he at least act like a dick and not some saintly guy looking out for an ex?

  “Look, man. I get it. You two had writing in common. She loves her dad. You love her dad. Len’s clearly crazy about you. But he’s not that crazy about her, and that’s why you guys will never work out.”

  Erik blinked. “What?”

  What?

  “Avery must have liked you a lot years ago when you went out. She’s a picky woman, and she’s not shallow. You seem like a nice guy.”

  Why does that sound so hard for you to say, Brad? She peeked around the corner, watching him, wondering if he was being honest or devious because she couldn’t read him. And by Erik’s frown, he couldn’t either. Fortunately, both men were too intent on each other to look her way.

  “Avery needs more than nice. She needs someone who will support her dreams, not try to make her into someone her father wants her to be. Did you know she’s pretty damn good at her job? At making people smile? She’s smart and funny, and she makes me laugh whenever I’m with her. That’s a gift. Here she has friends. Family. People who love her.”