by A. C. Bextor
Cathy is single. Her husband died years ago and she never remarried. She’s been working for Brian for over ten years. I caught them staring at each other across the table more than once. The seductive gaze he had trained on her caused her to blush and leave the table more than once, as well. I understood her flustered state.
Like father, like son.
“How’s Travis?” Brian asks, looking up from his coffee and waiting for either of us to answer.
I speak first. “Good. He’s in Vegas this week with Rae and Ace.”
“Vegas?” Brian asks. “I’ve never been.”
“Travis says it’s tolerable,” Hayden tells him, taking another pull from his beer.
“Must be something to see if Travis thinks that. I’ve known Travis for a lot of years and he’s not always been tolerant of much.”
Hayden pushes his napkin and now empty beer away from him. His hand clutches the back of my neck, squeezing gently before he announces, “We’re going to head out soon, Dad.”
Brian looks to me and smiles wide, readying to put Hayden on the spot. I feel as though Hayden just opened a box that should have stayed shut. “Where you running off to? Friends are gone, aren’t they? I’d figure you two would be bored crazy with no way to pass the time.”
“Dad,” Hayden warns as I blush furiously.
“Brian!” Cathy snaps.
Lifting his hands in surrender, Brian attempts to calm the table. “Joking. Of course you two want to go and do what kids do.”
Cathy drops her napkin on the table and starts to stand as Brian does. “Oh, for Heaven’s sake. He’s not a kid any more. They’re both adults,” she hisses.
Hayden grabs my arm as he pulls his chair back and stands. “It’s fine, Cathy.” Hayden grins, putting her at ease. “I’ll stop by later this week, Dad.”
“Good to meet you, sweet sweet Lacey.” Brian’s tone is mocking as he looks at Hayden as he says the words.
I’ve missed something.
*****
Hayden
So, that’s what it feels like to bring a girl home to meet the parents.
It wasn’t as bad as I had thought; still challenging, but not so bad. My dad liked Lacey; I could tell. Generally, new people cause him to hesitate. Being a lawyer, a successful one, has made him a suspicious person. He wasn’t with her. He was cordial and even attempted bad jokes.
My drunken father would’ve been so different.
“I like him,” Lacey states boldly from the passenger seat after she buckles in and gets comfortable.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. He’s not as hot as you are, but he’s also not what I was expecting.” She stops talking, listens to the radio for a few minutes, and then starts in again, “What was that ‘sweet sweet’ bit about, though? It came across as stalker-creepy.”
“It was nothing.”
“You lie.”
Hayden grips the steering wheel, his back straightening before he speaks. “The night I met you at Trav’s?”
I interrupt, remembering that night with absolute clarity. “The night you molested my mouth without provocation, yes. Continue.”
“The night I successfully flirted with you,” he corrects to his version of the evening. “I saw Dad the next day and when he asked about you, I told him you were sweet.”
I swallow and gasp dramatically, playing up the compliment. “You think I’m sweet?”
“Stop,” he says, his face turning red.
“You do! Hayden Flynn thinks I’m sweet.”
“I don’t anymore,” he teases, taking his eyes off the road and pinning me with an annoyed look.
“I don’t think you’ve paid me a compliment to my face since we’ve met that didn’t revolve around the stretching of my body while you were inside me.” I laugh. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. A girl loves to hear she’s tight, wet, and ready.”
“Oh, Jesus, now that’s just crass,” he replies, smiling so big his teeth come through. I love that Hayden’s able to laugh at everything, even crude jokes.
“You haven’t.”
“I have.”
“Name it. Tell me what you’ve said that I’ve missed that hasn’t been about my body, including my mouth.”
Hayden stops smiling and his face changes from jovial to concerned; he’s thinking. He’s searching through all the time we’ve spent together, trying to remember anything that resembles a compliment. I don’t want or expect any from him; I like him the way he is.
“I think you’re beautiful,” he says quietly.
“That’s another thing about my body, Hayden,” I return, not upset or angry. “It’s okay, I didn’t mean . . .”
“Not on the outside,” he whispers. “When you stood up to Travis for me, when you took up for Sarah the night we found her and that kid. The way you explain things to me about my friends, which after all this time I don’t see. You’re beautiful.”
Speechless. I have no words. I feel my eyes water. No one has ever said something like that to me, ever. Alec’s version of a compliment was telling me the food I brought home from the fast food chain was still warm. He was amazed by my ability to deliver a non-soggy taco.
“Thank you,” I return, clutching the hand he’s offering.
We sit in silence the rest of the way home. I’m smiling shortly to avoid him seeing it. Hayden Flynn is layered. Each time we’re together, it chips away another layer of him and the one beneath the last is more than the one before.
I could fall in love with him.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Hayden
AFTER A NICE relaxing few days without the rest of the group tangling themselves into our lives, we’re back to reality. Well, our version of it anyway. I’ll be waiting with enthusiasm for them to take their next trip to wherever the hell it is they need to go so Lacey and I are granted more time alone without interruption. I hated leaving Lacey at her place, but I needed to check in on my dad.
Of course, my dad’s home when I walk in his house. He’s dressed in his recently adopted attire: sweatpants worn from wear and no shirt. My dad, by all female standards, is a catch. He’s tall, built, and his full head of dark hair is without grey other than the few lingering around his temples. Other than his body tiring from copious amounts of alcohol over the years, he’s always taken care of himself.
“Working today, are you?” I quip, ribbing him knowing he’s not been working as much as he should. I think for the first time in his law-practicing career, he’s taking time off. After all he’s done to help himself through his sickness, though, he deserves it.
He looks up and peers at me over his coffee. “More than you.”
“Ouch.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, now that you bring up the subject of work . . .”
“I sense a lecture.”
“You sense right, so sit,” he tells me, signaling to the chair beside him.
I pull it out and take a seat next to him, waiting for him to start. “My firm is looking for someone—”
I cut him off, reminding him of two very important things. “Dad, I have a degree in business, not law.” He starts to talk but I raise my hand to stop him. “And when you’re better, I told you I’d use it.”
I told him this while he was drying out in rehab. I wanted to give him something to look forward to and his son succeeding after being held back all these years was considered that.
“I’m better now, Hayden,” he states for the first time. His admission hits my chest with a crack; I’m happy for him.
“Then soon I’ll see about a job, but not at your firm.”
His smile is sly and calculating as he answers, “McNorton and Sons probably couldn’t handle the both of us anyway. Human Resources wouldn’t be able to keep up.”
“That’s a little gross, Dad.” The thought of Dad and I chasing the same tail sickens me.
“Yeah, didn’t think about that one before I said it. Sorry.”
“I’m gonna use
your shower.”
“You came all the way over to use my shower? Don’t I pay for you to have running water at your place?”
“Yeah, but I like the company here more.”
When I turn to walk out of the kitchen and head upstairs, Dad stops me. “How’s Lacey? Still fun and sweet?”
Oh, Dad. You have no idea.
“Yeah. She’s home today.”
“I enjoyed meeting her. Thank you for bringing her over. Cathy enjoyed having you both, as well.”
Once I’m in the shower, my phone rings. I hear it ring, again and again. It stops then rings again and again. Whoever’s after me is getting impatient. I hear the text message come through noting it’s Trav’s. I assigned the tones so I’d know if I were busy with a woman if it was my dad and he needed me.
Once I’ve finished, I grab the phone and get his frantic message. He’s upset.
Travis 09:45 a.m. Fucking hell! Answer your goddamn phone, Flynn.
The next one is more agitated than the first.
Travis 09:48 a.m. Fucker, are you awake? I need your help. It’s Lacey.
Without reading the other messages, I hit call and the phone connects; he answers immediately.
“What the fuck?” I ask without letting him explain.
“Lacey’s sick. Fever, chills, throat, everything.”
“I just left her.”
He grunts in the phone, passively accusing me. “Right.”
“Fuck off. Where are you?”
“Work. Carl said I couldn’t take any more time off since I’ve taken so much the last few weeks. Can you check on her? She’s not answering her phone either and I’m starting to worry.”
“Yeah, give me twenty.”
“I don’t have anything for her at home. Can you stop and grab something on the way?”
“What do I grab?”
“Fuck, I don’t know! Ask your dad’s woman. Margaret, Mary, Cathy, whatever the fuck her name is.”
“Let me go so I can get help.”
“I’ll be home about seven. Text me when you have her.”
“Will do.”
He doesn’t say anything and I look at the phone thinking he’s hung up, then I hear his voice again, “Thanks, Hayden. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
Dressing quickly, I ignore my usual routine while getting ready and throw on a pair of sweats and a hoodie before heading downstairs. My steps falter as I hear Cathy and Dad talking in the kitchen.
“I wish you’d put a shirt on, Brian. Maybe a pair of pants, too.”
“These are pants.”
“Those are sweats, not pants. And we both know you don’t jog.”
“I could jog.”
I hear Cathy laugh quietly as she continues stirring something near the stove. Pots and pans are being tossed around, the smell of bacon evident.
“Maybe soon you’ll venture out of the house?” she asks, quietly waiting for Dad’s refusal as she’s heard from him many times before.
I stand on the other side of the door waiting for my dad’s weak response. His sponsor told him to start living and that being clean for four months was an achievement to celebrate, not a shame to be hidden by rattling around the house when he’s not in an AA meeting.
“Go to dinner with me then. I don’t like eating alone.”
Cathy drops whatever she was holding on the floor and I hear my dad laugh at her expense. My dad rarely laughs and I find myself smiling while hearing it. My reaction though is the same as hers—shock.
“What did you ask?”
Dad’s footsteps and voice draw closer so I back away from the door to avoid being seen.
“I asked you to dinner. Why are you so surprised?”
“You know why, Brian Flynn.”
My dad’s voice is brought to a whisper, and before I accidently hear anything I can’t un-hear, I make a quick move toward the door to get out of the house before anything starts that can’t be stopped without cold water.
God, that’s gross.
On the way to check on Lacey, I stop at the pharmacy and pick up the standard array of sick person items. I didn’t have a mother growing up, so I do what I’ve done for the last ten years while taking care of myself. The call to Bean goes through and she answers on the first ring.
“Hayden, honey. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, Bean. I need help, though.”
I hear her exhale into the receiver. Throughout my young years, it was often Bean I’d call for motherly advice. The old woman is already a saint as far as I’m concerned.
“Well, whaddya need?” She basks in feeling needed, even though all of us, other than Sarah, are past our childhood stage.
“Cold, cough, congestion. I’m at Walgreens and they have like fifteen thousand bottles of shit. I’m confused, Bean.”
“Language, Hayden Merit.” I’m scolded, even in my flustered state.
“Sorry,” I respond with petulance.
“Do you have a fever?”
“It’s not for me, it’s Lacey.”
I hear her smile into the phone with her sigh. I don’t have time to deny Bean so I say again, trying to garner her focus, “Bean, need help.”
“Does Lacey have a fever, honey?”
“Not sure. Trav said she might. She’s not answering the phone so I can’t ask her. He said she’s got chills, and her throat hurts.”
I picture Bean sitting in her chair shaking her head in confirmation. “Probably sleeping a fever off. You’ll need Tylenol, ibuprofen, soup, and crackers.”
“That’s it?”
“Hayden,” she says as if declaring war, “I’ve been taking care of you boys for all these years. I’m not a doctor but what you’ve described sounds like nothing more than the common cold. If this doesn’t fix what ails her within twenty-four hours, take her to one.”
I laugh quietly and she laughs in reaction to it. “All right, Bean. Thank you for the help.”
Of course, it’s never that easy getting Bean to settle. “Beautiful girl, that Lacey.”
And here we go.
“Yes, you’re right. She is.”
“She’s still part of your circle?”
“Bean,” I say with a tone I’m not used to using with her.
Her sing-song match-making voice comes through my cell phone with unfortunate clarity. “I’m just saying. You’re a beautiful boy; she’s a beautiful girl.”
“We’re not making beautiful babies together, Bean.” I need to stop her before she starts delving into sexual discussion territory.
“Hayden, I didn’t say that. However, you’re right; they would be beautiful. I hope you thought about what I said. I meant every word.”
Giving up, I sigh through my goodbye. “I love you, Bean. I gotta go get this shit and get to her.”
“Language!” she snips. “Take care and call me if you need anything else. I can have Sarah drive me over. She’s getting better behind the wheel, so I don’t need an extra pair of Depends when riding slip knot.”
“Shotgun, Bean,” I correct.
“Whatever you kids call it. See you soon, Hayden.”
Thank God.
I love that woman nearly and dearly, but standing in a pharmacy and talking about her adult diapers has me itchy with anxiety. Sliding off to disconnect the call, I find the items Bean listed with enthusiasm and head to Trav’s.
Opening the front door to Trav’s place, I find the room still. The temperature in the apartment is hot. When I glance to the thermostat next to the front door, I see it’s set at eighty-seven. I turn it down, shaking my head knowing Lacey had to have cranked it after Travis left. That crazy show Snapped is playing on the television. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Sarah was here.
“Lacey?” I open the bedroom door gently in case she’s awake. I don’t want to startle her.
I find her sleeping in the bed, nestled between several blankets. Her blonde hair is laid out on the dark pillow, the contrast almost a
ngelic. Walking to her quietly, I repeat, “Lace?”
Reaching down to feel her head, I find Bean’s right; she’s sleeping off a fever. When I was sick and Dad didn’t have the time or desire to tend to me, Bean would kiss my forehead, letting her lips linger. She used to tell me it was healing, but as I grew up and learned, I also found it to be a way to tell how high the fever was.
Bending down, my lips brush Lacey’s skin. Her eyes flutter open, red and angry from the sickness. “Hayden?”
Pulling back, I look down at her. Her lips are chapped and her eyes are sunken with dark circles under them. “You look beautiful,” I offer with meaning. Even in a sickened state, she’s as beautiful to me as she was when I left her last night.
“Oh, God, I’m freezing.” Pulling the covers under her chin, her bottom lip shivers. “What are you doing here?”
“Travis sent me. He’s at work and called me to come check on you.”
She nods while looking beside me on the floor. “What’s that?”
“Bean’s home remedy.” I pull the bag up on the bed and empty it item by item, showing her the chicken noodle soup and crackers last.
“Can I have the Tylenol? My throat is raw.”
“You need to eat. I’ll make soup and you can take it with that.”
Her eyes find mine and my heart beats heavily in my chest. She looks tired and broken. “Okay.”
“Want another blanket?”
“Please,” she answers, huddling in tighter to her already piled bedding.
After making soup and giving her meds, I stand waiting for her to finish drinking the rest of the apple juice I brought in. “Any better?”
“Yeah, a little.”
I point to the door behind me. “I can go. I gotta call Trav and let him know you’re okay.”
She processes my words in thought. Her face is flushed now that she’s awake and her eyes are brighter after eating. “Stay for a little while?”
“Sure.” I make a move to sit on the floor beside her after pulling out my phone and sending Trav a quick text.
She scoots over on the bed. “I don’t have cooties. I won’t kiss you, but you can sit up here if you want.”
Without any hesitation, I sit beside her with my back against the headboard. She lays her head on the pillow beside me, and looks up. “That soup was good. You can cook.”