by Freya Barker
Now I can’t seem to formulate any words. Me, of the sharp tongue and the quick wit, I can’t even seem to say thank you.
Watching his back retreat to the kitchen, Mark’s voice startles me from my thoughts.
“I’ve always wondered where the animosity came from. Now I see,” he says cryptically.
“Not a clue what you’re talking about.” I turn to him as I straighten my face into the blank mask, which has served me so well over the years. Mark seems utterly unimpressed. Being a former cop, he’d be well-versed in body language. He simply smiles and shrugs his shoulders.
“So how’s the woodworking business?” I firmly direct the conversation in a different direction as we dive into dinner, and I’m able to relax a bit. It’s only when I push my empty plate to the side that the subject of Dino, or rather his son, is brought up again.
“You did good with the boy; getting him to talk to police. Based on his and the girl’s statements, they were able to move fast. Get those guys off the street. My sources tell me Mr. Neve won’t be walking anytime soon, the deeper they dig, the more crap they unearth.”
“Thank God for that. Won’t see me lose anymore sleep over that little snot-nosed punk.”
“I hear you,” Mark agrees. “Too bad those other two were released on bail. First time offenders, coerced into participating, respectable home life...the judge wasn’t gonna sit on them.”
I shake my head. “I don’t much care where they come from, all I know is they stuck their puny little dicks where it wasn’t wanted, forcibly. And the coercion? It’s bullshit. Maria told me they were hollering it up the whole time, high-fiving each other, cheering the other on. Makes me sick.”
“I hear you,” Mark says again, putting his hand on mine and giving it a squeeze. “How is the girl doing by the way?”
“She’s...okay, I guess, considering. Hard lesson to learn, when you’re not even twenty, that people are not always how you see them. The guilt she’ll carry from this is not insignificant. She broke house rules, took off with a guy who was already abusive, and ended up being violated in the worst way. It’s gonna be hard for her not take on responsibility for the last part of that as well.”
“Do you think Ruby, or even Nina, could help?”
Ruby and her adopted daughter, Nina, are both survivors of a life filled with sexual violence. It’s actually not a bad idea, but perhaps a little too soon for Maria to be exposed to that. It’s a double-edged sword; these young girls, you hope they find a way to process their negative experiences and move on to a fulfilling life, but it’s a fragile path. Knowing they’re not alone in their experience can be healing, but sometimes adding on the horrors others have endured can be so overwhelming, they never get over their fears and insecurities.
“Maybe,” I answer cautiously. “It may be too soon for that for Maria, though. Let’s see how she does in the next couple of weeks and take it from there.”
“Fair enough.”
Mark insists on paying the bill Matt drops off at the table, and I let him, even though it goes against my grain.
“Let me walk you to your car,” he offers, when we get up to leave.
“Actually, go ahead. I’ve got something to take care of first. We’ll be in touch.” I smile to make my words a little less dismissive than they may have come across as.
“Sure thing. Talk to you soon.” Mark leans in for a peck on my cheek before he walks out.
My reaction to Dino earlier is bugging me and I want to clear the air. Or something. I briefly stop in the ladies’ room before heading to the kitchen. It’s empty, but I hear noises coming from the pantry in the back. Dino walks out with a plastic bin and freezes in his tracks when he sees me standing by the table. He’s so big. An impressive mass of a man, with broad shoulders, a solid bulk to his body, the completely bald head, and a heavy brow. His uncommonly full lips soften the dark brooding mask on his face. I can’t stop looking at them, remembering how they felt.
“Hey,” he rumbles, after a moment, and continues to set the bin on the counter before turning back to me. “What’s up?”
What’s up? I’m not so sure now. Thoughts and things to say tumble through my mind and once again I become aware of a crackle of energy in the air. Unfamiliar and slightly unsettling.
“Jonas,” I say the first thing that finds its way to my mouth, but I try to capitalize on it as best I can. “I just wanted to check with you to see if you spoke with Jonas.”
“That why you came?” he asks. The question is simple enough on the surface, but from the intense way he looks at me, I’m thinking there’s a lot of information he’s hoping to gain.
“I came for dinner and company to the pub. I didn’t think you were working, but since you were, I wanted to ask about Jonas.” His eyes narrow to slits. “Fine,” I throw up my hands. “Things in there earlier, felt...off. Like I said, I didn’t expect you and it threw me. I may have been awkward, or rude. Hell, I don’t know, all I know is I wanted to make sure we’re good. I mean, we seem to be getting along now...” I know I’m rambling. Me, rambling. But I can’t seem to stop my mouth. “Talking on the phone, we were in a good place, right?...I just didn’t want to... Ah, fuck it all to hell!” What in God’s name is wrong with me? I turn and basically run for the door, making an already awkward situation only worse. I hate this.
I intend to slip straight out the backdoor and to the parking lot, but I barely get past the dumpster in the back before a heavy hand lands on my shoulder, swinging me around.
A very large and looming Dino is glowering down at me. I only have a second to consider how strange it feels to be looking so far up at a man, before his mouth slams down on mine. Those lips. This is not a thank-you-for-your-help kind of kiss. No ma’am. This is a full on, sizzling lip lock that has my hands come up and clutch his biceps for stability. I don’t even hesitate for a second when his tongue slides between my lips—I let him in. Son of a bitch, I’m letting him in. The hand he had on my shoulder travels up, where he easily cradles the back of my head in his huge palm. In full control of my mouth and my head, he uses his free arm to tug me closer. I’m plastered head to toe to his body and my arms slips unwittingly around his neck, wanting to keep him right there.
Kissing this man is a full body experience, with every one of my senses fully engaged. Except perhaps my common sense...
“We’re good,” he mumbles against my lips when he finally comes up for air. I’m still sucking in lungfuls, or maybe that’s just the panic that hits me just now.
“This is not good,” I declare in between gasps, and try to push away. “I can’t...this is unethical. I’m a therapist.”
I feel the rumble of his chuckle coming from deep in his chest. “A therapist can’t kiss? That’s just sad.”
“No.” I thump his chest in frustration. “I just can’t kiss you if I want to be able to help your son.”
That has an instant effect; Dino’s arms, still holding me close, drop away immediately as he takes a step back.
“Fuck,” he says under his breath, rubbing a hand over his bald head. “Fuck.”
His soulful eyes find mine and I want to flinch at the turmoil I see there. I loosely put my hand on his chest. “Look, whatever this is, we have Jonas to think about.” He covers my hand with his before leaning in.
“All this time, I thought the tension between us was intense dislike. It’s not—it’s intense chemistry.” He shakes his head before straightening up. “But you’re right; Jonas comes first.”
I should be relieved when he pulls his hand back and mine drifts to my side, but I am pissed to find myself feeling a little bereft. Both by his words and by the fact he’s walking back inside.
He stops on the top step and turns back. “He comes first, but this?” he waves his hand between the two of us. “This is not done.”
I’m about to protest when he stops me.
“Can’t put the cat back in bag, Pam. No way I’m gonna let this be done.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dino
“Why is she coming for dinner?” Gina asks for the fifth time today.
I hold myself back from rolling my eyes impatiently. Ever since getting off the phone with Pam this morning, and I announced we’d have a guest for dinner, she’s been on my case.
It was Pam’s idea, actually. She suggested it might not be a bad idea to meet under more relaxed circumstances; that it might take a bit of the weight off for Jonas. After agreeing to talk with Pam, he’d been tossing out excuse after excuse about homework and assignments needing to get done. I’m not an idiot, I knew what he was doing, but I decided to give him that play. For a while. For a week actually, but today is Saturday. When I talked to Pam earlier, and apologized for not following up with her sooner, she quickly came up with this solution.
Of course, Jonas had scrambled to come up with an excuse why he wasn’t going to make dinner, but I’d laid down the law. He’s not going anywhere.
Gina caught wind of it, and although I’d not planned on giving her too many specifics, my thirteen-year old is more observant than is comfortable at times. Hence the repeat questioning.
“She’s coming because she’s a friend,” I repeat my earlier answers, but this time I add; “and because she’s offered to talk through some stuff with Jonas.”
“Oh,” my girl says easily. “Is that about the drugs or that girl who got hurt?”
The chef’s knife in my hand clatters on the counter as the wind gets knocked out of me. I’m not sure what I was thinking, trying to keep shit from my wiser-than-her-age daughter, but it’s obviously been an exercise in futility.
“What do you know?” I ask her when I turn around to face her. I still don’t want to give her more information than she needs to know, but I have to figure out how much she’s figured out already. I watch her shrug her shoulders, pretending to be unaffected, but I can see the little frown lines between her eyebrows.
“I know he’s been hanging out with a bunch of creeps and been skipping school a lot. I know he’s been doing drugs, because sometimes I can see he’s got weird eyes, like Mom used to get.”
My heart cracks a little, when I hear my baby girl describing all of it in a matter-of-fact way, a serious mask on her face. She’s too young to be exposed to this. She should be giggling with her friends and going to the mall, but instead she stands here discussing gangs and drugs like it’s par for the course. It’s not. It shouldn’t be.
I’m reminded again that no matter how sharply I see things happening in someone else’s life, I’ve become blind to the people in my own family, even my own flesh and blood. Christ.
“I know a girl was raped,” she says in a much softer voice. “And that Jonas was there when it happened.” Her eyes flick up at me and I’m surprised to see a little bit of fire through the tears. “But he didn’t do anything, Daddy. I know he didn’t. Kids at school are just being mean.”
I’m momentarily distracted by Gina’s vehement belief in her brother and my heart warms at that. Then I zoom in on her last remark.
“What’s that about the kids at school?” I take two steps until I stand in front of her and cup her face in my hands. I lower my voice to an almost whisper. “Baby—what is being said at school?”
“Just...they’re mean,” she repeats, her face crumpling as the tears start flowing. I press her against my chest and wrap my arms around her, my cheek on the top of her head.
“They’re afraid to say anything to me, so they take it out on her. Saying nasty stuff about Mom—about me.” My eyes come up to find Jonas standing in the doorway, an angry scowl on his face as he looks at his sister, but his eyes aren’t angry; they’re brimming with sadness.
Before I have a chance to say anything, the doorbell rings. Talk about perfect timing. Jonas throws a quick glance my way before turning to the door. I bend down to kiss my girl on the forehead.
“Only people who matter are right here, Princess, and I’m gonna do my very best to make sure we’re all going to be okay. I promise you.”
“Is this a bad time?” I hear Pam’s voice from the doorway.
Gina struggles out of my firm hold, scoots past her, out the door and upstairs, with Pam watching her. When she turns back to me her normally stern face is soft.
“No. Not a bad time. A perfect time,” I assure her, walking over to give her a kiss on the cheek. It’s a struggle not to make it more than that, but Jonas is right behind her. “Have a seat.” I wave at the stools by the kitchen island. “Jonas? Would you get Pam a drink while I finish this up?” Without waiting for his answer, I turn back to putting the finishing touches on my mozza-tomato salad. The kids hate it, but I love it. I rip up a few fresh basil leaves, from the plants in the window sill, over top and sprinkle with a nice, aged balsamic. All the time trying to avoid listening too hard to Pam talking to my son. I can’t quite make out his answers because the kid only seems to mumble, but I can hear her clearly. She’s talking about everything but that fateful night. I could kiss her...again.
“So what’s for dinner, Francis?” Pam’s voice drifts in my direction, and I slightly wince at the use of my birth name. I still don’t understand how someone could name a thirteen pound, screaming bundle of joy, Francis. Boggles my mind. My parents resorted to Frank and Frankie, but by the time I was in elementary school, I was already well on my way to being a big boy. I think it was second or third grade when the teacher had the brilliant idea to point out the largest known dinosaur and I had a name in common. It had taken only a few seconds before someone dubbed me Dino. It obviously stuck.
“Chicken stew with rice and beans, and call me Dino.”
“Dad hates his name,” Gina says, as she slips back into the kitchen, pulling cutlery from the drawers as she goes about setting the table without prompting. That’s a new one. Curiosity seems to have been too much for her, obvious from the furtive glances she shoots Pam’s way. She easily turns to Gina and a little smile settles on those luscious lips.
“Yeah? How so?”
Without further prompting, Gina happily regales the story of my elementary school teacher and Pam nods and hums every now and then. Her eyes never leave my daughter as she finishes the table and sidles up to me in the kitchen. I automatically slip my arm around her shoulder and lean down to kiss her hair. When I lift my head, I catch Pam’s eyes on us. An unguarded moment that allows me a quick glimpse at a deep-seated pain I’ve only guessed at so far.
I’m startled at the clear longing marring her features and the shimmer of tears in her eyes.
Pam
Watching Dino with his daughter is excruciatingly sweet.
Memories of what it feels like to have a trusting, warm, little body in your arms threaten to overwhelm me. I could feel the thick tension when I walked in a little earlier, but now I only feel how thick the love is as well. Even Jonas, who’s been quiet since his sister started chattering, looks at her with an expression of warm indulgence. The girl is adored, which is not a surprise, since she’s adorable. However, I wonder if the men in her life see the tension at the corner of her mouth when she smiles, the strain in her eyes as she looks from one to the other. I’m curious how long this little one has played the role of peacemaker in the family.
“Hungry, Dad,” Jonas announces, breaking the silence, and in the resulting flurry of activity, I have a chance to compose myself.
“What can I do?” I offer, feeling silly sitting down while the others are busy, moving around each other like a well-orchestrated ballet.
“Grab the mango chutney from the fridge? The large jar with the white lid,” Dino says easily, as he passes me with a cast-iron Dutch oven that gives off the most amazing fragrance, plopping it unceremoniously in the middle of the dining table.
The man does not have a single ounce of pretension in his body. The way he moves is easy, secure in a way that doesn’t require him to draw attention to his size or dominance. Not even the shaved head, the bulk of his body, or the often men
acing scowl he wears on his face detract from the fact he’s an unassuming kind of guy. He just is.
By the time I get to the table with the chutney, the glasses are filled with water, and Dino is dishing out dinner. Rice and red beans, what looks to be chicken and cashew stew, making me wonder if he’s deliberately picked a favorite Haitian dish for my benefit.
“Looks amazing,” I say truthfully. I peek up at Dino as he slides a steaming plate in front of me. “It smells like home.”
“Was aiming for that,” he admits with a bit of a shrug, before turning his head. “Christ, Jonas. The way you’re going at that plate, you’d think I never feed you. Wait for the rest of us, yeah?”
I stifle a snicker when I look over to find Jonas with a spoon halfway to his wide-open mouth, a good dent already in the heap of food his father served him. Gina doesn’t stifle anything, she full out giggles. As one, the men in the family turn to her with equally startled expressions on their faces. The moment Gina becomes aware she is the subject of scrutiny, the smile that brightened her face dulls with embarrassment. The girl obviously doesn’t smile a whole lot.
Dinner is amazing and after the brief awkwardness, conversation is pretty easy. Except Jonas, who is silent, occasionally glancing at his sister, but otherwise apparently engrossed in the massive amounts of food he’s putting away. It reminds me I’m here for a reason.
“So Jonas? Your place or mine?” I jump right in and shine a spotlight on the elephant in the room. I have a feeling avoidance has sustained this family for a very long time. The only way to fix what’s wrong is to put everything out in the open. The thought makes me flinch inwardly, because I’m being a hypocrite.