Brick Shithouse

by Bijou Hunter

  Cap fascinates me. There’s no way I can leave tomorrow. It’s too soon, and we haven’t even enjoyed a real date. I want to spend the entire day with him. Is he a morning person or grumpy as fuck before noon? I also have a creepy urge to watch him sleep. Nothing waiting for me in Ellsberg is half as impressive as the man sitting across me.

  “What’s the rental market like around here?” I ask.

  Cap answers quickly as if he was just waiting for me to ask. “Expensive, but we have a few houses you can stay at.”

  “No,” Pop says, shaking his head. “You aren’t moving down here.”

  “What’s the point of hooking us up if you don’t want us together?”

  “He can drive up to Ellsberg to visit you. I’ll have someone drive down with you a few times too. Take it slow.”

  “You knew Mom for like two weeks before you moved in together.”

  “That’s an exaggeration,” Pop mutters and pokes angrily at his potatoes.

  “Not much of one.”

  “We’ll talk about it when we get back home, and your mom can join the conversation.”

  “We have that contemporary rental,” Cap says while cutting into the second half of his steak. “It’s a weird layout and desperate for an aesthetic overhaul, but the ceilings and doorways are high enough that I won’t need to duck. I’ll take you out to see it tomorrow.”

  “No,” Pop says again. “This is too fast.”

  “I have some money saved up for the move.”

  Gritting his teeth, Pop growls, “Enough.”

  “I have nothing keeping me in Ellsberg.”

  “What about your family?” he asks, trying to sound hurt by my comment, but his anger kills any chance he has at pulling the guilt move.

  “This place makes more sense. It’s close enough for me to visit you often. There are plenty of places for me to work. And Cap lives here. I want to see him all the time, not just on weekends or after a drive.”

  “We’ll talk about it later, Audrey.”

  “Your father is right,” Cap says, and my heart sinks. “You should never have family squabbles in public. Well, unless you’re planning to turn the dial up to ten and add screaming to the mix. Maybe a food fight too. If you aren’t turning this disagreement into entertainment, why not talk about it later? Then before you leave tomorrow, I’ll show you the house. If you hate it, we have some others, and I’m used to ducking.”

  Relieved to know Cap still wants me to move to White Horse, I return to eating. Pop pokes his meat with such intensity that I’m surprised he doesn’t crack the plate.

  “The world is too fucking small,” Hayes says and orders a whiskey. “It caters to short people and their tiny needs.”

  “Some tiny people are worth the hassle,” Cap replies to his father while his gaze finds me.

  I smile at his compliment and keep smiling through my pop’s bitching.

  “Would you want your daughter running off with a stranger after a day?” he asks Hayes.

  “My daughter got knocked up by a stranger she knew for an hour. They’ve been together for over a decade. So don’t look to me for support on your fucking pity party, pal.”

  Pop leans forward and growls, “Did you plan this out?”

  “As if I knew what your daughter would do once she met my boy. Stop embarrassing yourself, Johansson.”

  Pop shakes his head and leans back in the chair. “Audrey and I will discuss this when we get back to Ellsberg.”

  “Yes, we will,” I say and smile at Cap. “I work as a barista in Ellsberg. I also know how to waitress.”

  “I have a job in mind,” Cap says immediately.

  “Of course, you do,” I murmur and my father pokes me in the rib cage.

  “Knock it off.”

  “You planned this entire thing,” I say, poking him in the arm. “Don’t pitch a fit now.”

  Pop glares across the table at Hayes who doesn’t seem to notice anyone around him. He’s really into his steak and whiskey. Cap, though, only has eyes for me.

  “We own a cool little place called the Kitsch Kitchenette where we serve tiny sandwiches and amuse-bouche,” the sexy giant says. “There are no menus for the food. Each day, we offer whatever the chefs want to make. People hang out and write books on their laptops or read books on their tablets.”

  “Trendy hipster bullshit,” Hayes says. “Bianca Bella and Cricket got drunk and double-dared each other into creating the most pretentious twat magnet.”

  “Yeah, so,” Cap says, after giving his father a quick frown, “we could use a barista.”

  “Shut the fuck up about moving here,” Cooper says to Cap rather than me. “Nothing is settled until Audrey’s mom and I discuss the issue.”

  I smile at Cap and shake my head as if to say, “Pop is talking through his ass. I’ve got this covered.”

  My father notices my gesture and glares at me. I know he wants to scare me into behaving, but Pop raised me too well, and I don’t fear him. I know he’ll love me no matter what. I can move here and fail miserably with Cap and come crawling back to Ellsberg with my tail between my legs—and even a kid or two on my hips—and he’ll welcome me with open arms. Pop loves his family too deeply to cut any of us loose. If he had it in him, he’d have kicked Uncle Tucker to the curb when he dropped Rando on her little head.

  No, my pop has a soft heart for his people. So he can huff and puff, glare and growl, and poke me under the table until my leg falls off, but I’ve got his number in the same way Cap’s got mine. That’s why I know Pop won’t stop me from moving to White Horse to give the colossal hunk across the table a chance to own my heart for good.

  CAP

  Cooper skips dessert even though Dad promises the apple pie is fucking fantastic. Audrey suggests she might want to try it, but her father is officially done playing nice. He throws cash down on the table before picking it back up.

  “You can pay for the fucking meal,” he growls at Dad.

  “Hey, pal,” Dad says, fighting a smile, “if your finances are fucking tight, considered the meal comped.”

  “Asshole.”

  Cooper takes Audrey by the arm and storms out of the restaurant while Dad grins like the asshole I love.

  “Was there a secret business deal at all?” I ask while moving to the opposite side of the table.

  “No, we watched episodes of ‘Gunsmoke’ in my office.”

  “Cozy.”

  Dad flicks a corn kernel at me. “I got you a girl, and all you give me in return is smack talk. Who raised you to be this fucking way?”

  “I’ll be nice and blame Mom.”

  “Yeah, she does love good snark,” Dad says and stretches his long arms in the air. “I think you got the best of the bunch with Audrey. Cooper made the other two sound pretty fucking awful.”

  “What kind of dick trashes his kids?”

  “Is that a shot at me, twat nugget?”

  Cocking an eyebrow, I ask, “When do you trash me?”

  “No, I mock the twins. I’ve gotten to calling Cricket ‘The Nutty Professor’ whenever she comes up with one of her big ideas.”

  “She has good ideas, though.”

  “She’s still nuts.”

  “True, but I meant Cooper trashing his kids.”

  “He put the best spin on them. The oldest is a boring nerd, and the middle one is a weirdo. You know my policy on nerds, and I’m already drowning in weirdoes. Shit, the mini-twins are devising evil plots to take over White Horse from its current dictator.”

  “I don’t think they will actually kill you,” I say, fighting a smile.

  “I don’t know. Murphy’s got a vibe about him. I think he’d be willing to murder me, but he’d also have to kill his mom, and she’s got the twins wrapped around her nutty finger. Wait, what the fuck were we talking about before the evil twins?”

  “I don’t think they’re evil. They’re just preteens, meaning they’re pre-evil if anything.”

  “Funny shit, fucker
,” Dad says and tosses his napkin on the empty plate.

  “Audrey is something special. You did right by setting this thing up.”

  Dad smirks. “I also got to piss off Johansson, which was a huge fucking bonus.”

  “His reaction is stupid bizarre. What the fuck did he think would happen once Audrey got a load of me?”

  “He expected you to woo her,” Dad says and then lets out a rumbling laugh. “Show up in Ellsberg with flowers and chocolates and write her poetry until she said yes to a date. Then you’d slowly win her heart with big romantic gestures. Finally, you’d pop the question, after asking his permission first of course, and he’d allow you to take his princess to White Horse.”

  “So he always understood how I wasn’t moving there.”

  “He isn’t dumb despite his blond hair.”

  “I’m telling Mom,” I taunt, patting my full gut.

  “She knows Cooper has blond hair.”

  Grinning at his deflection, I lean back and mimic him when I clasp my hands behind my head. “Audrey isn’t happy in Ellsberg. She lacks a purpose. As the baby of the family, she feels like the surplus kid. I can’t imagine how that feels since I’m so fucking cherished by my parents and siblings.”

  Dad studies me before smiling a little. “Grandpa Baltazar thought you were an angel. He believed you were a Nephilim or some shit. Basically, an angel banged my mom and made me, but I came out evil or wrong. I can’t remember his exact thought process because he was so fucking old and senile by that point. I do remember him thinking you were the result of angels perfecting the system.”

  “Angel or not, I’m beloved, and that’s why I chill in life. Audrey is a restless spirit in need of my presence to settle her down.”

  “A good fuck will fix a lot of her issues,” Dad says, nodding as if he’s shared something very wise.

  “I’ll mention that to Cooper when I see him tomorrow.”

  Dad breaks into roaring laughter so loud nearby people flinch. “Shit, boy, I’ll give you a c-note if you say it. The guy’s rage is fucking hilarious. One time, he got so pissed about some perceived slight by another club that he raged for an hour. I nearly pissed myself laughing at his Hulk-impression.”

  Dad laughs long after our pie arrives. Every time I think he’s gotten the amusement out of his system, he’ll remember something Cooper did when pissed and his laughter returns. Despite grinning at his enjoyment, I find myself reflecting on Audrey, her pouty lips, and stubborn nature. I’m unconcerned about her father changing her mind. In fact, the more he tells her no, the faster she’ll tell me yes.

  6 – AUDREY

  Pop doesn’t snore, but I swear he must make some kind of noise when he sleeps because he wakes me up constantly. Unable to catch him doing anything, I begin to wonder if it’s my imagination. Somehow, I know it’s not. I plan to ask Mom when I get home if Pop talks in his sleep.

  Waking up exhausted on Sunday, I’m ready to go home until I remember leaving White Horse means leaving Cap. Now in a funk, I linger in bed and imagine all the steps to moving my limited belongings to a new town.

  In the bathroom, Pop swishes mouthwash, spits the liquid out in the sink, likely splashing it everywhere, and finally announces he’s ready for breakfast. I don’t move immediately, almost asking if he’ll bring me food like I did for him yesterday. Based on his grumpy morning expression, the answer would be no.

  We walk downstairs and eat quietly in the kitchen area with the other guests. Everyone looks miserable on this chilly autumn morning. Except for a flirty elderly couple, I doubt anyone brushed their hair before heading downstairs.

  I’m still full from the huge dinner I ate at The Glenn last night. Steak and potatoes always fill me up. Across the small circular table, Pop looks ready to crash as he chugs one cup of coffee after another.

  “Are you sick?” I ask when he hides his face in his hands.

  “I stayed up too late, working out scenarios to sneak up on Hayes and punch his smug face.”

  “Did you ever figure out a plan?”

  “No,” Pop says, sighing. “The man must have eyes in the back of his fat fucking head because I’ve spent two decades trying to get the jump on him. He always knows I’m coming.”

  “Maybe it’s a height thing.”

  “Maybe.”

  I wait for Pop to say something about my move to White Horse, but he remained silent about the issue the night before, and he says nothing until we take food upstairs where he crashes on the bed.

  “I could sleep for a fucking day. I think I’ll nap before we head home.”

  Standing between the beds, I struggle to keep my voice relaxed. “But we’re meeting Cap to see the house before our drive back to Ellsberg.”

  “That ain’t happening,” he says with his arm across his face.

  “I need a place to live down here.”

  “No, you don’t. You’re moving too fast.”

  “I’m moving here, Pop. You should start accepting that fact because I’m meeting Cap at the house in an hour.”

  Pop peeks at me from behind his arm. “You’ll give up your whole life for some asshole? You haven’t even had sex with him yet.”

  “And you know that how?”

  “I can tell.”

  “Riigghhtt,” I say and nearly throw a pillow at him.

  “It’s obvious to anyone who isn’t stupid.”

  “Was it obvious with Mom?”

  Pop clearly flashes back to his first time with Mom. Lily once asked our mother if he was her first lover. I remember wanting to vomit at the word “lover” because I was twelve, and the entire conversation was disgusting to me. Mom carefully worded her answer when replying, “He’s the first that counted.”

  I assumed that mean she slutted around with nobodies until meeting Pop. Rando later told me that Mom had been R. A. P. E. D. My sister even spelled out the word. I hadn’t believed Rando since she was in the middle of an extensive lying phase. Later, Lily confirmed Mom was no slut.

  So I’m assuming Pop is remembering that ugly stuff when he thinks of their first time together.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he mutters.

  “I’m old enough to hear the details. Were you a tender lover?”

  Pop looks me directly in the eyes, and I see the death glare of a man capable of murder. For some reason, his threatening gaze makes me giggle.

  “Don’t speak to me,” he growls in response to my lover comment.

  Grinning, I ask, “For how long?”

  “Never again. Don’t speak to me ever again.”

  Laughing, I toss my pillow at his head. “Sex is a natural thing, Papa. When I have it for the first time, I’ll send you a postcard with the play-by-play. It’s how I was raised.”

  “Never speak again,” he says, standing up quickly and hurrying to the door. “From now on, you only talk to your mother. She’ll relay your words to me.”

  Laughing hysterically at his escape, I fall on the bed and think to call Mom to share how her husband is a punk ass. I know she’ll take his side though. She can’t help it. They’re soooo in love, and he possesses a look that makes her panties instantly wet. This last detail is courtesy of Aunt Tawny who gets chatty when drunk off her ass. I remember she told me that gossipy nugget while Pop and Uncle Judd were having a grill out at midnight in the middle of winter.

  Realizing what I’ll leave behind when I move to White Horse, I struggle to hold onto the confidence Cap provides. How can I go weeks without seeing my parents when I’m used to spending time with them every day? Am I really brave enough to leave everything I’ve ever known?”

  Calling Cap, I need reassurance from the only person who’s ever looked into my eyes and understood how I tick.

  “What’s up, Pip?” he answers in a voice so deep I feel it from my scalp to my toes.

  I can’t find the words to express my unease, so I ask a dumb question, “What’s your fave color?”

  “Gray. Yours?”

/>   “Black.”

  “Like my hair?”

  Despite rolling my eyes at his arrogance, I can’t stop smiling. Cap’s cocky attitude just makes me obscenely happy. “Yes, like your hair. So what is your fave season?”

  “Winter. My family enjoys skiing, and the kids go insane in the snow.”

  “I hate the winter.”

  “What do you love?”

  “Summer. I prefer wearing shorts and tank tops.”

  “The world prefers when you wear them.”

  Smirking at his compliment, I ask, “Do you think we’re too different?”

  “No. It’ll be my job to help you love winter, and yours to help me love summer. That’s how shit works. I should warn you. I sweat magnificently. You’ll want to prepare yourself for that splendid sight.”

  “A man shouldn’t use the word splendid.”

  “A man my size can use any fucking words he likes. Have you seen the size of my fists? Who’s gonna tell a man like me what he can and can’t fucking say?”

  “A girl who knows you won’t punch her.”

  “Touché, Pipsqueak,” he says, chuckling deeply.

  “I don’t think Pop will come to see the house.”

  “If you come, he will follow.”

  “When should I meet you?”

  “Are you packed and ready to go?”

  “Yeah, basically.”

  “And you have to check out soon, right?”

  “Yes,” I say, thinking I hear Pop at the door.

  “Then leave now. I’ll send you the address and meet you there. After you see it, you and your dad can drive home where you’ll share the good news with your mom. All will be well with the world.”

  Watching Pop enter the room, I ask Cap, “Just like that?”

  “Life is only as fucking complicated as you make it.”

  Cap doesn’t wait for me to agree. He sends me the address and says he’ll leave in ten minutes. Hanging up, I study my pop who’s watching me. I know he’ll say no, but he won’t physically stop me from going to the house. Like Cap said, Pop will follow me. He won’t be able to fight the urge to supervise me and complain about the house. Usually, I’d let Pop run the show. Not today. For Cap, I’m making a move, and Pop will need to learn to play the follower.