by Unknown
“Sounds fun.”
Josh laughs at her obvious sarcasm. “It’s a blast,” he teases back. “But its good money, and well,” he peeks over at his dad who is busy sharing a story, capturing our parents’ full attention. “I didn’t have much of a choice.” Josh is the only son. He has six sisters, all of them older.
“Rough break,” Sam agrees.
“At least I know I’ll always be able to support my family with it.” Josh glances over at me and I can’t help but blush.
“How many kids do you want?”
I shoot daggers at Sam. I cannot believe she just asked him that.
He nervously glances over at me and I want to shit twice and die.
“However many God gifts us,” Josh answers, almost robotically.
Sam picks up on it and perks up, “How many do you really want?”
He lowers his voice, “I’d be happy with like two. Three tops.”
Praise the Lord! “Me too,” I admit.
Josh beams at me, and I realize my mistake of engaging in the conversation. He probably thinks that makes us a good fit.
Our number is called and we meander in, the adults at one end, the “children” at the other.
At first the adults try and include us in the conversation, but once the food arrives they allow us more “private” time. They’re very generous in that way.
“So what was up with the service today?” Josh asks while putting jam on his biscuit. “It was so doom-and-gloom-Satan’s-upon-us.”
“I know, right?” I agree with a laugh. “It wasn’t exactly uplifting.”
“His wife’s probably not putting out so he’s grumpy,” Sam says before shoveling in some pancake.
My mouth drops open. She knows better than to talk like that around my family.
To my relief, Josh laughs, “You’re probably right.”
While Josh looks down to fork some of his omelet, Sam looks over at me with wide eyes, and it’s then that I know she purposely set him up, wanting to see his reaction. I don’t know whether I want to laugh or smack her.
“What are you three smiling about down there?” My overbearing father intrudes.
Josh speaks up, “Comparing notes about today’s service. Our Pastor really knows how to inspire a person.”
I smile into my napkin, pretending like I’m wiping my mouth. I like his sarcasm. I like it even more that he does it in a way nobody picks up on unless you’re in on it with him.
“That he does,” my father agrees before going back to his meal, obviously satisfied that we are keeping things to an area he approves of.
Sam talks around another huge bite of pancake, “Did you know that Hannah likes to sew?”
Josh swallows his food, “I do.”
She licks the maple syrup off the edges of her mouth, “I mean she loves it.”
Where is she going with this?
He looks over at me with a smile, “That’s great.”
“I’m just saying,” Sam adds, pointing her fork at him. “That you should keep that in mind for the future. Make sure she has her own room to do it in.”
Jesus, Sam. Maybe I’m not relieved to have her here.
Josh throws his head back and laughs. “I think that’s definitely something that can be arranged,” he says with a smile that makes him even handsomer.
Sam gives a satisfied nod and goes back to her food.
I can’t help but grow excited at the idea. My own sewing room! I might even be able to secretly make some of my sketches while he’s at work!
Josh leans in closer, interrupting my daydream, “I like your friend’s style. She’s pretty funny.”
He’s the first person to accept that Sam is more than some girl I took pity on, and a warmth grows for him.
“I’d love to be able to give that to you some day,” he talks lower, eyes exploring mine. “It’s important to have things you’re passionate about.”
He needs to stop before I find myself not hating him. “That would be amazing,” I reply. I’d be stupid not to speak up and let him know it’s something I want. It could be my new sanctuary since I will no longer have the Shepard’s home.
As if he read my mind, Josh looks over at Sam, “You know, I’ve always liked the idea of a guest room…”
Sam’s eyes get wide with excitement, “Really?”
Before he can answer, my parents are getting up and thanking the Nelsons for a wonderful breakfast.
We all head outside and Josh pauses next to me, “I had a great time.”
“Me too.” I realize that wasn’t a lie and I frown, torn by these feelings. I never once thought I might actually like who my father picked out for me.
He smiles widely at me before waving goodbye and going to his parents’ car.
When we arrive at my house, I ask my dad if I can walk Sam home.
“Be quick,” he warns.
I try to contain my excitement, “Yes, sir.”
The minute we round the corner, Sam is stripping out of the cumbersome dress she wears every Sunday. Underneath she has on short shorts and a skimpy top. She undoes the bun on her head and lets her brunette hair hang loose and wild.
Sam sighs as she takes my hand in hers, “I hate that I like him.”
“So do I,” I sigh back. I didn’t want to, but I do.
We walk back in silence, because the fact that Josh is actually pretty cool depresses us both.
I walk her to the door and wave at the boys who are spread out around the living room, nursing their hangovers.
“Mary!” They cheer, all of them smiling over at me.
“You hanging with us today?” Tripp asks.
“No, just walking Sam home.”
“Bummer.”
Yes. Yes it is.
“Bye, guys.”
“Bye,” they say in unison again.
I catch Dan’s eyes for only a moment, but it will have to be enough to last me until later tonight.
As I start to make my way home I stop at the end of the driveway. I can’t wait for tonight. I go around the side of the house and try to telepathically let Dan know to meet me there. As I’m climbing into his room he’s shutting his bedroom door.
I beam, “You read my mind.”
“Or you read mine,” he challenges as he comes to me and we’re kissing like it’s been days and not hours since we were last together. “How’d it go?”
I know he means the brunch and I shrug. “It was all right.”
“Is he at least nice to you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He kisses me again. “I hate this. You know that, right?”
I nod.
“When Sam called and said she was having brunch with your family and your boyfriend–”
I cringe as I cut him off, “Did she actually use the word boyfriend?”
Dan nods, his jaw tight, “I wanted to punch something.”
“Now you know how I felt every time I had to see you with a girl.”
“It’s not the same. They were just a warm body to keep me occupied from what I really wanted.”
He has an uncanny ability to make my stomach dip and my heart race. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? You could have saved me from a lot of torment.”
He searches my face for a moment before answering, “You’ve always been too good for me, and I knew I could never keep you.”
Oh if he only knew how much of me he had. All of me. Forever.
We kiss for a few seconds longer before I reluctantly turn to leave.
I hop down and Dan pokes his head out, “Just tell me you can’t stand him.”
“I can’t stand him.” I’ve lied a lot in the past five years, but never has it made me feel this terrible before.
His eyes turn sad, like he can sense my lie, which only makes me feel worse.
“Later?”
“Later,” he confirms.
I walk home, my dress heavy on my body as my guilt pushes more weight on me. When did life get so c
omplicated?
Chapter 14
I arrive at the Shepard’s before Sam does and I’m about to burst with happiness at extra time alone with Dan. I haven’t seen him in over a day, because Mondays we take as a day to get a full night’s sleep.
Unfortunately, he’s in a pissy mood and hardly acknowledges me when I come in, his attention focused on whatever videogame he is playing.
I scoot closer to him but he continues to play his game, a vibe coming off of him I can’t read. I’d almost say he’s mad at me, but I haven’t a clue why.
When I’m about to ask him what’s wrong, Tag and Sam fly in laughing about something that has Sam doubling over.
Sam collapses on the couch next to me, “Hey, babe, can you get me something to drink?”
The room stills as Tag and I go stiff, waiting for Danny to demand why Sam just called Tag “Babe.”
Dan’s too wrapped up in shooting whatever’s on the screen to notice, but I get up like Sam had asked me just in case. I give Tag a covert wave to take a seat, which he promptly does.
“Get me something too,” Tag requests, getting comfortable in the recliner.
I get everyone a beer, cozying back on the couch.
Tag’s long, muscular legs reach over so his foot can kick mine, “Sam told us about Sunday.”
I give my best friend a glare. She shrugs, not caring that I’m bothered by it.
“Sounds like he’s a decent guy.”
“He is.” Sam takes a sip of her drink. “Which I’m happy about. If Hannah has to leave us, at least I know the guy is decent. He’s even going to have a guest room so I can come stay.”
Danny reaches for his beer and pounds it back before getting up to go to the kitchen. He starts rummaging around in the fridge.
“Really?” Tag seems surprised. “That’s cool.”
“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “When I see him again I’m really going to push the whole sewing room thing…” Danny banging things around is distracting my focus, “…My best friend deserves her own space for all her amazing designs.”
Dan leans over the counter with his fists, brows bunched together, practically growling out his words, “You mean like maybe she could open a motherfucking Etsy shop?”
Sam’s hand flies out in his direction. “Exactly!” She proclaims before letting it slap back down on her thigh. “Great idea, and Josh seems like he’d be totally down with it.”
Dan huffs and goes back to banging things around, like he’s looking for something in every drawer and cabinet, creating quite the ruckus.
Tag calls out, “You all right man?”
“Fan-fucking-tastic.”
Sam and Tag look at each other like “What’s up his butt?”
I gulp back my soda as a way to hide from the conversation. I wish they’d just be quiet. I rack my brain for something else to talk about, “How’s the new gig going?”
They’re still working on that one woman’s yard; it will look like a rainforest when they’re done. The place I had my first orgasm.
“It’s looking sick!” Tag brags, full of pride. Which he should, I’ve seen their work and it always comes out amazing. Between Tag’s body that’s built for labor and Dan’s perfectionist habits on the job, they make a stellar pair.
Dan ignores the conversation and stomps down the hall, “I need a shower!”
He doesn’t return even after he’s done, preferring solitude. I pretend to duck out early so I can sneak back into Dan’s room.
Dan has Sublime blaring on his speakers as he lounges on his bed, throwing a ball up and catching it in his hands.
I stand there playing with the end of my braid, unsure of what to say or even if I should go over to him.
The silence kills me, especially since I know he knows I’m here and he’s just ignoring me while he plays with his baseball.
I have to say something. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
He keeps tossing the ball up, ignoring me.
“Please say something,” I plead.
“You lied to me,” Dan tells the ball as he watches it almost hit the ceiling before falling down and catching it in both hands.
Now I’m the one who has nothing to say. I know he won’t want to hear my apologies. I wouldn’t if I were him; being lied to by someone you care for is shitty.
“Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Sam gush about your boyfriend?” He says the last word like it’s a vile thing to say.
“Not good,” I guess softly.
Dan catches the ball and finally looks me in the eye, “No. Not good.” He gets up, anger flaring in his eyes. “Do you have any idea how much it sucked having to hear her talk about it all through dinner last night?”
I shake my head no.
“Do you know what it feels like knowing there’s some guy out there who thinks about you like I do? Who wants you like I do? Who one day will have you like I want to?”
I try my best to soothe him as I take a step back, needing some distance from his anger that is taking over the room, “He doesn’t think that way. He’s a good Christian man.”
“If you believe that, then you’re just as naïve as everybody thinks.” Dan moves further into my space. “Every guy thinks about it.”
“It’s not like that. We’re forced together.”
“Bullshit,” he spits out. “How did this start? Who came to whom?”
“His father came to my dad,” I reluctantly reveal. My mom had let it slip a couple weeks ago. Not once had it crossed my mind that Josh had anything to do with it.
“Exactly! Jesus.” Dan throws his baseball cap off his head in frustration. “And whose idea do you think that was?”
I don’t answer; I don’t have any words.
“John’s,” he answers for me.
“Josh,” I correct, which earns me a growl. Probably not my smartest move at the moment.
“I can guarantee it was John’s. Probably had his eye on you for a while. You don’t see yourself like that, but every guy with a dick does. You’re beautiful and you just have this…” Dan’s hands motion over to me, “Way about you that’s just so… fuck, I don’t even know how to describe it. But it just makes a man want to be better. To do better, just to please you. Ask any one of my boys.”
“They do nothing but tease me,” I remind him.
He runs his fingers through his hair aggressively, “That’s how they show affection, but any one of them would do anything for you, give you whatever you want. Do you think they’d do that for just anybody?”
Dan doesn’t wait for my answer, “No, they wouldn’t.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
He tugs at the ends of his hair and sighs, “I don’t know either.”
Dan comes closer and I allow him to pull me to him. His hand cups my cheek, “You’re driving me crazy.” His eyes search mine for a few seconds before his lips crash against mine. Our mouths do the rest of the speaking, acting out in desperation as we cling to each other, his lips so fierce against mine it almost hurts.
Something in me comes unglued. I’m not sure if it’s needing to connect with him, wanting to show him how much he means to me, or just the desire for him, but one minute we’re kissing and the next we’re on his bed ripping each other’s clothes off. We devour each other like we have something to prove. When’s he’s hovering over me I spread my legs, ready to give him all of me. I don’t stop and think, I just feel, and right now I need him – all of him. I take hold of him, guiding him towards my entrance.
Dan seems eager, but then stills just as his tip hits its target. He pulls back, sadness shadowing his features. He rolls off of me and sits up on the bed, arms dangling over his bent legs, “I can’t do this.”
My breathing is fast and shallow as I try to unjumble my brain from the lust that clouds it. “If you’re worried about me, I want this.”
“It’s not that. I mean it is, but I can’t help but think when you leave, where does that l
eave me? I’m a part of this too. Am I just supposed to forget you? Forget what we’ve shared? I’ve wanted this for too damn long and I just…” He sighs and lowers his head with a shake. “I just can’t do this and then let you go. I can’t share this with you just to hand you off to another man.”
I open my mouth to respond, but he talks first with his head still lowered, “I need you to leave. I need time to think right now.”
Tears fall as I sit up, “Think about what? Us?”
“Please, just go.”
I comply. I have no choice. His voice is too full of anguish and sorrow not to.
After I dress I look back one more time, my vision blurry from the tears spilling down. I want to tell him I love him, that I’ll only ever love him, but I don’t. Now’s not the time. I’m not sure there will ever be a time.
I hesitate at the window, not wanting to leave, wanting to make sure this isn’t the end, but I need to respect that he wants space. I cry the whole way home, fearing that this might have been my last encounter with Dan. I’m also just as confused that I was so willing and eager to sleep with him, and that I wouldn’t have regretted doing it, even though he’s not my husband and never will be.
It’s hard to ride with teary eyes, and before I round the corner to my house I dry my face with my dress. My face is probably puffy and red, but there’s not much I can do about it.
Fear strikes when I turn down my street and see my dad’s car in the driveway. I haven’t a clue what time it is. He could be home early, but I have a sinking feeling it’s the opposite.
The front door flies open as I head up the driveway, my father standing there angrier than I have ever seen him.
“In the house. Now!” He shouts, and I know it’s bad because he would never make a public scene.
I drop my bike off as fast as I can, and as I pass the grandfather clock I see that it’s past six. I’m in deep trouble.
He’s waiting in the living room, the place he only goes on holidays or for special guests. This is bad.
“Where have you been?!” My father shouts, red-faced and swelling with anger.
“Mrs. Fraser was having a bad–”
“Don’t lie to me!” He turns a shade of red I didn’t know humans could. “I just got off the phone with Marlene, she said you left around two.”