by Jody Holford
“Worth carrying some lights?” Lucy joked, clicking from a distance, trying to let the boys have their fun. They were teasing Cam about his lack of chest hair, and Lucy almost felt bad for him, but the slightly embarrassed smile on his face was making for some great shots.
“I’ll say. Poor Cam. He’s so sweet,” Kate crooned.
“He’s also quite cute. Even without chest hair. He’s your age, right?”
“Hmm. Yes. We graduated together. I think the surprise of the day is Elliot. Those are some serious abs he’s got going on.”
“Alex says he’s got two little girls,” Lucy commented, moving in a little closer.
“Maybe he does sit-ups while lifting them,” replied Kate. “Luce? We about done here?” Luke called.
Elliot shot the football right at him, but Luke looked in time to catch it.
“What’s the matter, Davis? Too much work for you? You should get him a calculator, Lucy. Maybe a desk,” Elliot goaded him good naturedly. In return, Luke, good-naturedly, suggested where Elliot could put a calculator.
“You should just get rid of these clowns. I’ve got all you need, Lucy,” Sam told her, flexing his appealing, muscled arms. Toned and defined described most of the men, like they spent their free time playing sports or staying active. Only Elliot looked like he put effort into sculpting his body, but not in an overdone way.
“I leave you alone for one morning, and I find you with a roomful of half-naked men,” Alex said from the doorway, getting Lucy’s attention. She smiled at the sight of him. He had needed to go to court that morning to testify and, as such, was dressed in a dark navy suit with a lighter blue tie. His hair was brushed to the side a little, making him seem both sexy and boyish. Her heart flip-flopped. She was turning into an absolute sap.
“She’s probably just bored with your lack of skill, Whitman,” Sam said.
“I hope she’s not looking your way then,” Alex replied easily. The guys laughed.
“Okay, water break, I guess. Then we’ll slick you boys up with some oil and get the good shots,” Lucy said. “Oh! I want that job!” Kate jumped up and down a little while all five of the guys gaped at Lucy.
“Wow. I should take a picture of the look on all your faces right now,” she said, and did before telling them, “I’m joking about the oil. Relax.”
Alex walked to her and kissed her lightly, his grin playful. He tugged on a lock of her hair that had fallen out of the loose bun she’d made at the back of her head.
“I don’t think I like your job,” he said quietly, humor lacing his tone.
“I know. It’s tough, but I’m muddling through,” she replied. “How was court?”
“Fine. Everything went as expected. So do I get a private photo shoot later?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure. Can I make you pose any way I want to?”
He arched an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. “Will the photographer be naked?”
“Unlikely.”
“Then no.”
“I’m trying to eat here,” Kate muttered, a pile of potato chips in her hand and a few in her mouth. Alex snagged one and shoved it in his mouth. “Sorry. Didn’t know there were little ears around,” Alex said, earning a smack from Kate.
“Okay, enough. I need to get these shots, then I want to do individuals,” Lucy said, laughing.
Alex went to chat with the guys for a few minutes while Lucy got Kate to help her set up a dark backdrop. She’d found an old wooden chair. She wanted simple. She was also going to see if any of the men wanted to advertise along with the calendar. A small caption with their photo would give them extra business and, hopefully, the town a little extra cash.
“You seem different,” Kate commented, looking at her as she pulled down the dark screen. “Different how?”
“Like both of your feet are firmly planted in one place,” Kate said carefully. “That’s because they are. Maybe you should cut me some slack.”
“I just thought you’d be gone by now. You’re always gone by now.”
“Maybe I didn’t have the right reason to stay,” Lucy commented, then realized what she’d said. She saw the hurt flash across Kate’s face, but it was replaced immediately with a blank nod.
“Fair enough.”
“Kate. That is not what I mean. It’s complicated. I always thought it was better for everyone if I was somewhere else,” Lucy tried to explain quietly. The guys were still laughing and eating the snacks she and Kate had put out for them.
“That’s stupid. You belong here. With your family. And, I guess, with Alex.”
“It took me some time to realize that. I wasn’t ready before, but right now, there’s nowhere else I want to be. I think I needed to go all of the places I went to find where I belonged,” Lucy said, more to herself than Kate. Kate walked back to the small cooler bag she had brought and took out a water, offering Lucy one as well. Lucy sat on one of the upside down crates and took another chance.
“Kate. Holding yourself back will never help you find the place you’re meant to be.”
Kate drank her water, her dark eyes seeming far away. Recapping the bottle, she turned another crate upside down and sat carefully, testing its strength.
“It’s not that easy, Luce. Mom and Dad paid for my education. They wanted me to go to school and not have to worry about working. I can’t repay them by saying, ‘Oops, made a mistake. I don’t want to be a social worker. I want to be a designer.’ It just doesn’t feel right. How can I tell them that they wasted money they didn’t have on me?”
A part of Lucy was happy to know that she hadn’t been completely off about Kate’s unspoken desires. While she might not have been here physically, she kept in contact with her family, frequently checking in via whatever modes were available. She hated feeling like maybe she didn’t know Kate as well as she thought. It made her feel guilty, like the time away had affected more than just herself—which of course, it had. She had been naïve, and perhaps a little self-absorbed, to think that it wouldn’t. Knowing that Kate wanted something that Lucy felt like she could give her meant that she could start mending fences that she hadn’t realized were becoming weathered.
“Education is never a waste of money,” Lucy said gently, taking Kate’s hand. “It is if you don’t have the money.”
“Mom and Dad have the money,” Lucy countered. With their dad having tenure at the university and their mother putting out anywhere from one to three books a year, Lucy had always known her family to be financially comfortable. Even when economic times had taken a hit, people still went to university, and they still bought books. Kate closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. She pulled her hand back from Lucy’s.
“No. They don’t, Lucy. When you stay in one place for longer than a week, you’ll find things aren’t always what they seem,” Kate said, standing and moving away from Lucy.
Lucy stared after her, puzzled and frustrated by her sister’s continued references to her staying power. It was starting to wear on her nerves. “You okay, honey?” Alex asked, walking toward her. She looked up, standing too fast and swayed a little.
“Okay, seriously,” Alex said, steadying Lucy with his hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Lucy said and then laughed lightly. “Just stood too quick.” He continued to watch her for a moment, his hands tight on her shoulders. She still felt light-headed, but didn’t him to worry, so she stepped into him and put her arms around his waist.
“I’m fine.” Lucy hoped it was true, but right at that moment, she didn’t feel that way.
Alex popped the top off of a couple of beers and passed one to his dad. “Thanks for helping me with this,” he said, taking a drink of his own.
“Happy to. It still feels a little strange to have you working on your own house. You got a good deal here,” Chuck said. They picked up their beers and headed toward the back deck. Alex could have easily stripped and stained the deck himself, but inviting his dad over served more than one purpos
e. Still early afternoon, Alex had taken the rest of the day off after he’d testified in court that morning. He had to drop his truck off to be painted, which still pissed him off, but the guys had the station covered and he had some questions he needed answered.
“I’m happy here. I knew I wanted to buy a house, but I didn’t think I’d enjoy fixing it up so much,” Alex said, grabbing the large pail of deck stripper. “You and Sam did a hell of a job on that kitchen. I’m thinking of redoing the kitchen at the cabin. Needs some updating,” Chuck replied. Perfect opening.
“How was the cabin?” Alex asked. Chuck set his beer down on the rail and shrugged. Alex opened the deck stripper and poured some into two paint trays. “It was good. Nice to relax. Caught a couple fish. Released them. You know what the cabin is like,” Chuck replied, opening the package of nylon brushes.
“When did you get back?” Alex asked. He wanted to know if his dad would lie to him to his face. The thought of it made his stomach turn. Chuck met Alex’s eyes as he accepted the paint tray his son passed him.
“I told you. Last night.”
Alex held his stare, but Chuck didn’t flinch—didn’t shift his eyes or his weight. He looked Alex dead in the eye and lied. And that realization struck Alex harder than if Chuck had physically hit him. The air in his lungs was replaced by an unexpected fury.
“Oh, right. You did say that. Must have forgot,” Alex said, his words clipped. He moved to one side of the deck, tray in hand, and began to brush the stain on the peeling strips of wood. They painted in silence on opposite sides of the deck. Alex felt the warmth of the day through his T-shirt as he tried to focus on covering all of the worn parts of the beams. Why would he lie? Slapping stain in wide strokes, he moved back on his knees to cover more ground.
“You keep slopping that around, it’s not going to rinse off properly,” Chuck commented from a similar crouch on the other side. Alex said nothing and continued to apply it his way. He wasn’t good with games. He hated them.
“Elliot saw you two nights ago. Said he waved to you, and you ignored him and rushed into your house,” Alex said, putting the brush down and turning so he faced his dad. His knees were aching in his crouch, but he stayed where he was, forearms resting on his jean-clad legs. Chuck’s mouth scrunched up, the only sign that he had heard Alex. Placing his brush down with exaggerated care, he rose and looked down at his son.
There had been times growing up that Alex had hated his dad with a teen’s jaded view, but for as long as he could remember, Chuck had been straight with him. Or so he’d thought. Feeling like his legs were going to cramp into the position permanently and not liking the height difference, Alex rose to face his dad.
“You got something to say?” Chuck asked. “I think I just said it.”
“Parents don’t answer to their children. I’m entitled to have a life of my own,” Chuck said, his shoulders stiff and his eyes hard. “Having a life of your own includes lying to me?”
“Lying and not giving you the details of my private life are two different things.” Alex shook his head. He walked to where he’d left his beer and took a long swallow. Slamming the bottle back onto the railing, he chose his words carefully.
“I don’t see those two things differently if whatever is happening in your private life makes it necessary for you to lie to me,” Alex told him. Chuck looked out over Alex’s back lawn, recently trimmed and edged with trees. Alex pictured backyard BBQs with friends and family, which is what had gotten him started on the deck in the first place.
“It’s nothing that concerns you. When I’m ready to talk about it, you’ll know,” Chuck said with less heat. His shoulders dropped a bit, and Alex had the quickest flash of recognition that his dad was older. He never saw him that way, but the look on his face right this minute showed his age, and Alex didn’t care for it.
“Until then, you’ll just lie when it suits you,” Alex replied. He leaned back against the railing and shoved his hands into his pockets so he wasn’t tempted to toss his beer bottle against the side of the house.
“Every now and again, you remind me so much of her. God, you’re stubborn. Just like she was. Once you think something, there’s no swaying you. Your way or no way.” Chuck pulled his keys from his pocket and tossed them lightly in his hand.
“See, now, that’s funny. I’ve always appreciated how different you are from her. But right now, your parenting styles seem to match perfectly. Lying, evasion, and to complete the hat trick, I bet you’re going to leave,” Alex replied coldly. Anger skittered up his spine and made him want to lash out. What the hell is he hiding that is worth this fight? Chuck’s fist snapped tightly around his keys.
“You’re right, I am. You need to get your head on straight, and if I stay any longer, I’m likely to smack it in the right direction. Not every person in your life is hiding some God-awful secret. Maybe everything isn’t about you,” Chuck said, his teeth clenched and his graying eyebrows drawn tight. “Wash this stain off before it dries, or you’re going to ruin this deck.”
With that, he shoved past Alex into the house. A moment later, Alex heard the front door slam. That went well. Sighing heavily, Alex picked up the paint brushes, itching to hurl them far and wide, and took them inside to clean. He’d do the deck another day. He wasn’t feeling much like backyard BBQs or family get-togethers right now.
“Hey dad. Can I come in?” Lucy asked, knocking lightly on her dad’s study door. He was sitting at his desk, grading papers. In his light grey cardigan with leather elbows, he looked every bit the college professor. His smile was warm and inviting, and his eyes focused on her the minute he heard her voice. She wondered how many of his students had crushes on him. Had he ever acted on any of them? She couldn’t imagine it, but then, she liked to keep her head nestled in the sand rather than face reality sometimes. Preferably the sand of another continent.
“Of course you can. You don’t need to ask,” he said, leaning back in his leather chair. She moved into the room, lit by wide panes of glass and a gorgeous window seat like the one in Alex’s bedroom. From this spot, she could see the side of Alex’s house. Or would be able to if it hadn’t grown dark. She’d waited until her mom had gone to bed to talk to her dad.
“You okay?” he asked, picking up his cup, which probably had some sort of herbal tea that her mother swore by.
“I’m alright. I’m good, actually,” she replied honestly. She studied the wall of built-in bookshelves. They were filled with history and political science books, family photographs, and family albums. On one shelf, there was a collection of miniature items that Lucy had sent or given him. She picked up the gold Eiffel Tower replica, smiling because he still had it after all of this time. Lucy placed it down between the tiny bust of Shakespeare and the six-inch Statue of Liberty.
“You still have all of these,” she remarked when he came to stand beside her. He put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. She rested her head and wondered how it was that one person’s arm could provide such an anchor—a feeling of safety, stability.
“I certainly do. For starters, I love them. I think every one of them is great,” he told her, picking up the palm-size blue crane that was the South African national bird. “But also, as you well know, I’m a bit of a sap when it comes to my girls. I think I have every Father’s Day card ever made by all three of you.”
Lucy laughed, but it did nothing to ease the ache in her chest. Did he really feel no different toward her than the other girls? He’d never treated her differently, so why was it so hard to believe that?
“Dad, are you and Mom okay financially?” she asked. She hadn’t meant to be so blunt. He looked surprised for a split second then dropped his hand from her shoulder and returned to where he’d left his tea.
“Why are you asking?” he countered, picking up his mug.
Because I checked mom’s book sales, or lack thereof. Because she’s had dismal releases for the last three books, and no one has mentioned it.
Because she’s stopped doing book signings and author visits. Because Kate is going into the wrong career just to please you.
“I’m just curious. I’m not a kid anymore. You can talk to me if you guys are in … a tough spot. I’ve always just put my paycheck in the bank, except what I needed to travel or live. But I’ve never needed much—“
“Stop,” he said in a tone that left no other option. “I realize that you make a considerable amount of money. I’m very proud of you for doing so well. But your mother and I have never needed help taking care of our family. I’m not sure why you think we do, but I can assure you, we are just fine.”
“I wasn’t trying to insult you, dad,” she said, wishing she had pockets so she could shove her hands into them. He set his mug down, and by the time he walked over to her and pulled her into a hug, his face had softened.
“I know, sweetheart. There’s nothing for you to worry about. We manage just fine when you’re not here, and the fact that you’re home doesn’t change that,” he replied.
Lucy frowned, easing out of the hug. “It’s good to know that everyone does perfectly well when I’m not here. Perhaps I should go so I stop stirring things up and trying to change things.” He hadn’t meant anything by it, but she was tired of feeling like she had to defend herself. She started to walk out of the study.
“Lucy Marie Aarons. You come back here this minute,” her father said. She would have laughed when she turned around, but the expression on his face was not one of humor. She stayed where she was but kept her eyes level with his. He stepped closer to her, so that her space was filled with the smell of lemon tea and Old Spice.
“We are fine when you’re not here because we have no other choice, and I am not talking about finances. When you have a child that wants to roam the world, you have no choice but to accept it,” he said, his tone both stern and wistful.
“Dad,” she interrupted.