by Claire Adams
“Sure, why not?” I agreed, as she fished out another oldie and we began watching Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal annoy each other as they drove across the country together.
The couch was warm and comfortable. I pulled a quilt off the back of it and wrapped myself in it, and before I knew it, I was sound asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Blake
After a quiet night at the station, Tony and I were ready to head out. He was moaning about not getting enough sex again, and I had grown weary of his complaints.
“Tony, my friend, have you ever considered that maybe your wife is overworked and underappreciated?” I asked, as he prepared to launch into a soliloquy about the meaning of marriage.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he shot back. “She’s completely appreciated! I take care of the cars and the house, I shovel the walk, I work a good job and pay the bills, and I make sure that she has a pretty piece of jewelry for every possible occasion. How on earth could she not feel appreciated?”
“Sometimes you’re such an ass,” I said, shaking my head.
“What? What did I do now?” he asked, throwing his hands up.
“Tony, women need more than to have their maintenance needs met,” I said, trying to explain for the thousandth time. “If upkeep on the house was all she needed, she could hire someone to do that. What she needs from you is to share the damn load, you idiot.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Tony said angrily.
“I’m talking about asking her how her day went and then actually listening to what she says,” I said, knowing that much of what I was about to say was going to go straight over his head. Tony was a traditional kind of guy, and he didn’t understand that to get what he wanted, he was going to have to put out something. “I’m talking about fixing dinner on the nights she works late or about buying flowers for no reason and packing her a lunch to take to work with her.”
“That’s some fucked up shit you're talking about, B,” Tony said, shaking his head. “My Pops never did that shit for my Ma, and they’re still married.”
“Yeah, but is he getting laid?” I grinned.
“Dude, shut the fuck up; that’s my Ma,” he said, punching me in the shoulder. “Don’t talk about my parents’ sex life; it makes my nuts shrivel up.”
“Fine, don’t listen to me,” I shrugged. “But I’m getting laid, and you are not, my friend. Tell me who has the correct answers here.”
“Fuck off, Gaston,” Tony grinned, as he yanked open the door to his Camero and climbed in. He revved the engine and then flipped me off before shifting into reverse and pulling out of the parking lot at well over the speed limit.
I shrugged and climbed up into the truck. Tony always asked for advice, but he rarely took it. Part of me wondered if things between him and Anita weren’t better than he let on, and that maybe he did take my advice, but didn’t want to let me know that he had. Whatever the case, I was looking forward to heading home and calling Emily to see if she was free tonight.
When I walked in the front door, I was surprised to see Nina in the kitchen cooking breakfast. She put a finger up to her lips and signaled for me to be quiet as she pointed to the living room couch. I looked down and saw Emily still asleep under the Red Sox quilt my grandmother had made for me when I was in college. I smiled, nodded at Nina, and then retreated to my bedroom to shower and change clothes.
When I emerged, Emily was sitting at the table nursing a cup of coffee and rubbing her eyes.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” I said, smiling warmly. “You girls had a sleepover, eh?”
“We watched rom-coms until Emily fell asleep,” Nina said, slipping a spatula under a pancake and expertly flipping it over on the griddle. She poured me a cup of coffee and handed it to me as she slid a package of sausages into the frying pan and let them sizzle.
“I guess one and a half movies is my limit,” Emily smiled sleepily. “How was your night?”
“Just the way I like it: uneventful,” I said, as I sipped from my mug. “So, what’s on the agenda for today, ladies?”
“I’m going to make you both breakfast, and then I’m going to go take care of some of the assignments I have to turn in next week,” Nina said, as she moved the sausages around in the pan. “I don’t want to let things get too out of hand while I’m on vacation.”
I shot Emily a questioning look, but she only shrugged and smiled as she watched me start to set the table. I avoided talking about anything school-related as Nina set breakfast down on the table and we began to eat. She chattered about what her friends were doing for New Year’s Eve and made a point of telling me she had no plans.
“Well, ladies,” I began, “tonight there is a big cookout at the station, and I’d love it if you’d both accompany me to the festivities.”
“Are you serious, Dad?” Nina asked, through a mouthful of sausage and pancakes.
“Dead, and close your mouth; it’s gross,” I said, as I shifted my gaze over to Emily, who sat across the table smiling at me.
“I’d love to,” she said.
“No, I’m serious, Dad,” Nina cut in. “You want to take your teenage daughter on a New Year’s Eve date? That’s just weird.”
“Yes, I’d like to take you both to the station to celebrate the new year,” I repeated.
“Fine, I’ll go, but, again, I tell you that this is just weird,” she said, shaking her head disapprovingly.
“Then invite a friend and make it not so weird,” I offered, looking at Emily for help. She avoided my eyes and focused on her breakfast.
“Forget it,” Nina sighed. “I’ll come with you, but there had better be other people I can talk to there. Otherwise, this is going to be miserable for all of us.”
“Where in the hell did all of this psychobabble about weirdness come from?” I asked in exasperation, as I studied my daughter.
“Dad, Dad, Dad,” Nina said with a sad smile. “Let it go; you’re out of your element.”
“No, you’re out of your element!” I shouted with a grin as we both yelled, “Shut the fuck up, Donny!”
“You two are very, very strange,” Emily said, looking back and forth as we began trading lines from our favorite movie.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen The Big Lebowski!” Nina shouted. “Oh my God, it’s only the most awesome cult film ever made in the history of films!”
“No, I can’t say I’ve ever seen it,” Emily said, with an amused grin. “But now that I know you two are gaga over it, I’ll check it out.”
“Dad, maybe we should stay home and screen Lebowski for Emily,” Nina said seriously. “If she doesn’t get it, you might want to rethink this whole dating thing.”
“I’m not dumping Emily because she hasn’t seen Lebowski,” I warned Nina, before turning back toward Emily with a grin. “But if she doesn’t like it, well, that’s a whole other matter.”
“You two are certifiable,” Emily laughed, as she began clearing dishes from the table. “I’ll wash up. You go do your homework, young lady.”
Nina scampered off to her room before I could say another word. I helped Emily clear the table and load the dishes into the dishwasher before I began wiping down the table.
“Is there a dress code for the festivities tonight?” she asked, as she plunged the skillet into a sink full of soapy bubbles.
“Warm,” I said, as I moved behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, resting my chin on the top of her head. “Dress warm. Otherwise it’ll suck.”
“You’re not going to keep me warm?” she teased softly, as she leaned back against my body and made my pulse race. I wanted to slide my hands up under her shirt and caress her bare skin, but I knew better than to start what we couldn’t possibly finish.
“I’ll keep you warm enough,” I murmured, as I leaned down and kissed her neck, and heard a small moan rise up in her throat.
“More like hot,” she muttered, as she leaned forward and began scrub
bing the pan in earnest. I laughed as I released her and moved a safe distance away.
We spent the afternoon curled up on the couch watching classic movies while Nina worked on her schoolwork. It felt good to just be close to Emily, even though it took everything in me to keep things chaste. Around 7, Nina emerged from her room and asked when we were leaving for the party.
“Soon, grasshopper,” I said, earning yet another eye roll from my daughter.
“The longer I know you, the more I think it’s every parents’ job to humiliate their teenager,” Emily laughed.
“Ah yes, the years she’ll look back on and remember fondly,” I sighed. “Do you remember your father that way?”
A dark look crossed Emily’s face, but it was quickly replaced by a bright smile as she nodded, but said nothing. I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to spoil the festive mood before the party. Instead, I leaned forward and kissed her, earning another bright smile.
“You ready to go or do you need to change and get girlified?” I asked.
“Girlified?” she laughed. “That’s not even a word!”
“It is in this house,” I said solemnly. “Nina taught it to me. It’s the process of making oneself look girly. Look it up.”
“She’s got you wrapped around her finger,” Emily said, as she smiled warmly.
“Since the day she was born,” I nodded.
Nina came out and looked us over before pronouncing us okay to go to the party with. I drove us all over to the station with the radio cranked up so we could sing oldies rock songs on the way. When we arrived, the party was in full swing, and all of the off-shifters had gathered in the kitchen to make popcorn and hand out party favors.
I grabbed Emily’s hand and led her around to introduce her to my colleagues. They welcomed her to the station and into the fold as I smiled like an idiot.
“I take it back, buddy,” Tony said, slapping my back. “You made a good choice. That one is a keeper.”
“Gosh, thanks, man,” I said, pounding his shoulder. “Coming from you, it means…not much.”
“Jackass,” he laughed. “I’m just saying; she seems nice. And Nina seems to like her.”
“Yeah, I think that’s a good match,” I agreed, as Tony handed me a beer. “How are things with you and the wife?”
“A hell of a lot better now that she’s requested regular days off,” he said, with a wide grin. “She’s in the mood a lot more when she isn’t bone weary, you know?”
“Jeez, I told you that a million years ago, jackass,” I said, shaking my head sadly. “Why don’t you listen to me?”
“‘Cause I’m a jackass?” he laughed, as he finished the contents of the can he was holding and reached for another. I shot him a questioning look to which he replied, “The wife is driving tonight; don’t worry, B.”
I found Emily sitting off to the side watching Cal and his date try and dance to a tune that was popular well before the two of them were born. She smiled up at me as I held out a hand and said, “Let’s show these young ‘uns how it’s done, shall we?”
I pulled her into my arms and dramatically dipped her as Cal watched with wide eyes before turning back to his date, who put her hands up and said, “No way. Absolutely not. You’ll drop me on my head!”
Emily and I laughed as we danced across the floor under Nina’s watchful eye. She smiled at me and gave me a thumbs up when Emily’s back was turned to her, and I laughed as I found my groove. Just before midnight, the crew turned the lights down and we all went outside to watch the city’s fireworks show. I wrapped my arms around Emily and pulled her back against my chest as we turned our eyes to the sky and oohed and ahhed with every bright explosion that lit up the night sky.
When the last sparkling lights melted from the sky, I could hear the partygoers counting down to midnight.
“FIVE…FOUR…THREE…TWO…ONE…HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
Emily turned and rested her hands on my chest as she whispered, “Happy New Year, Blake.”
“Happy New Year, indeed,” I smiled, as I leaned down and kissed her. I’d intended to keep it short and sweet, but she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me closer, so I lingered, feeling her warm lips pressed against mine as the blood in my body went rushing south.
“Oh my God, you two are so gross!” Nina protested, as she came out the back door and caught us mid-kiss.
“Just wait until you have someone you want to kiss,” Tony said. “You’ll feel very different about the gross-out factor. Believe me.”
“Perish the thought,” I said, shooting him a stern look. “My daughter is not going to be kissing until she’s 30.”
“Oh Dad, please,” Nina said, rolling her eyes. “I’m 16; the hormones are going to kick in any day now. Good luck stopping them.”
“Can we please not talk about this right now?” I said, feeling my stomach start to twist as the desire for Emily hit the fear of my daughter meeting up with guys who wanted to do the same thing with her. “I’m feeling a little sick.”
“You’re so dramatic,” Nina sighed, making everyone outside laugh and lightening the moment.
“You girls ready to head home?” I asked, looking down at Emily.
“Mmm hmm,” she nodded. “It’s kind of late, and tomorrow is going to be a busy day.”
Nina and I dropped Emily off at her house and waited until she was safely inside before we headed home.
“You know, Dad,” Nina said, as I turned the corner and stepped on the gas. “I like Emily. She’s good for you.”
“I’m glad you think so,” I said sneaking a side glance at my 16-year-old.
“I do, but I think you need to admit that you want her to spend the night so you two can have sex,” Nina continued, matter-of-factly.
“Not talking about this,” I said, coughing a little to try and hide my discomfort.
“Dad, you are so old-fashioned,” she said exasperatedly. “I’m just saying this so that we can have an honest conversation about birth control and STDs. You need to protect yourself, you know. People in your age group are the second highest risk group, right after seniors in assisted living facilities.”
“What in the hell?” I exclaimed. “Where on earth are you learning these things? And how do you know seniors are the highest risk group?”
“Dad, I learn this stuff in health class,” she said, in a tone that reminded me of my mother. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing as she continued, “It’s not shameful; it’s practical. And seniors are the highest risk group because you don’t stop having sex just because you get old! Besides, they’re all living together and jumping into each other’s beds. You’re so behind the times. Seriously, dude.”
“Do you talk to your mother about this stuff?” I asked, trying to gauge her comfort level.
“Yes, Dad,” Nina laughed. “Mom’s obsessed with making sure I have more information that I’ll ever need. She’s obsessed, really.”
“Don’t talk about your mother like that,” I said, weakly protesting her criticism despite the fact that I knew exactly how Remy would respond to a conversation like this, and it wouldn’t be well.
“I’m not saying anything I don’t already say to her,” Nina said. “Basically, I just wanted you to know that you shouldn’t use oil-based lube with condoms; it degrades the rubber and makes them unsafe. Water-based lube is best.”
“Can we please not have this conversation right now?” I asked, as I steered us into the driveway and turned off the truck. “I’m very glad that you have so much knowledge about this stuff, but your old man needs a little time to process the fact that you know it. Give me until tomorrow morning?”
“Gotcha, Dad,” Nina nodded, as she opened the door and stepped out, calling over her shoulder, “I wouldn’t want you to have a heart attack because your daughter knows something you don’t.”
I reached down and scooped up a handful of snow, quickly packed it, and then aimed it at her, hitting her squarely between the shoulder blades as
she walked to the front door.
“Childish,” she called. “That’s so very childish, Dad!”
“I wish you’d stay a child,” I muttered, as I followed her up the walk. “Growing up sucks for dads.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Emily
By the next morning, Howard had forgiven my absence and was curled up next to me in bed, purring softly. I lay there petting his head as I recalled the night before and how wonderful it had been to spend the evening with Blake, getting to know his friends and colleagues. Nina had grown more comfortable with her father dating me, and I felt like maybe the trip to the Waltham Museum had gotten through to her in a way that I hadn’t been able to before.
“I gotta get up, little man,” I said, as patted Howard’s head one more time before I slipped out of bed and padded to the kitchen to make some coffee. I turned on the radio and sang along with the playlist of classic rock hits, and realized that I missed KO more than I’d anticipated.
I thought about calling her, but when I looked at the clock, I realized she’d probably been up all night partying and would still be fast asleep. I’d do it later. Howard hopped up on the counter and stared at me accusingly.
“Yes, yes, I know,” I said, pulling a can of food out of the cupboard. “You’re still pissed at me for missing the wet food drop yesterday. It’s not as if you didn’t have a full bowl of dry food ready and waiting, mister.”
Howard blinked once and then looked out the window, indicating that my explanation was wholly unacceptable. I shook my head as I served up his breakfast on the counter and turned to the fridge to make my own meal.
“You know, you’re a poor substitute for Blake,” I said, as I sat down at the counter with my toast and a jar of peanut butter. Howard ignored my insult and continued eating. I thought about calling Blake but decided that since we had plans for later, it would be best to leave him alone and not seem so desperate.
“Oh my gosh,” I laughed, with a mouth full of peanut butter toast. “Listen to me. I sound like a high school girl with a crush on the quarterback!”