Dude Interrupted

by ANDREA SMITH

  I shook her hand, and displayed a knowing smile. “Got one like him at home,” I said with a chuckle, “Used to it.”

  “Touché,” she said, giving her father a wink. “I like him, Avery.”

  “Glad you approve, Sis,” Avery spoke up and hearing her voice gave me a bit of instant courage. It was true that the judge bore some of the same traits as my old man. I could tell that within seconds after meeting him. Not that many words had been exchanged between us, but that didn’t matter. It was all about body language: stature, presence, perusal, eye contact, and tone. Yes, I knew Judge Sinclair was cut from the same cloth as Eric Slater. His mere presence demanded respect, and I was sure his two girls had never tested his authority the way that I’d tested my father’s. But then, maybe he’d been perfectly content with allowing them to be who they wanted to be; follow their own dreams, carve their own paths towards the future.

  “And here’s my brother, Trey Jr.,” Avery continued, nudging my shoulder. “He’s a senior this year at Harrison High School in Kennesaw. Plays football as you can see by his buffness,” she teased, giving her brother a playful smack on one of his broad shoulders. It was easy to see Avery’s siblings got the height in her family. Trey Jr. was a bit of a hulk.

  “Play defense do you Trey?” I asked, holding out my right hand.

  “It’s that obvious, right?” he said with a laugh giving my hand a hearty shake. “Sure do. Defensive Lineman. Hope to play for Auburn next fall. Did you play?” he asked, genuinely interested. “You’re built like a wide receiver.”

  “Played baseball in high school. First baseman.”

  “You move fast,” he commented with a smirk. “Nice.”

  “Ahem,” Judge Sinclair cleared his throat, clearly getting irritated with his son’s double entendre. “Avery, your mother is with your grandmother in the kitchen. Perhaps you’d like to make the introductions there?”

  Avery grabbed my hand and nodded. “Bryce has already met Grandma and Grandpa, but I do want him to meet Mom before we sit down to dinner. C’mon Bryce.” I gladly allowed her to lead me down the hallway towards what I guessed was the kitchen. The house was formal, but also comfortable and tasteful. I could see my own grandmother fitting in perfectly here. She had money as well.

  But like the Sinclairs, my Grandmother Dennison didn’t put on airs. It’s what made me comfortable being here at the moment because it wasn’t foreign to me.

  I met Avery’s mother, Tylar, and immediately saw the resemblance to Avery. Not only physically, but her demeanor as well.

  “How have you enjoyed working at Sinclair Stables?” she asked.

  “It’s been an education in many ways. Avery was patient with me, I’ll give her that. But all in all, it has been one of the best summers of my life. Learned a lot.”

  She presented me with a warm smile. “This is where I met Avery’s father,” she explained. “I was about your age. I worked here for the summer before my sophomore year of college. I’d been attending Virginia Intermont, just like Avery. I guess my experience that summer was similar to yours, Bryce. Very eye-opening.”

  “Yes Ma’am,” I replied, glancing over at Avery not missing the blush that warmed her face. “My eyes were definitely opened. Makes me want to stay around here for a long time. It’s beautiful country.”

  “It has its perks for sure,” Avery replied.

  The dinner turned out to be better than I’d expected. I got the usual “grilling” by Avery’s father, but he did relax his tone a bit with me. He asked me some questions about Taz, which thankfully got him off questioning me, and on to the story of how they had met one another back in Napa years ago. Apparently Judge Sinclair’s brothers had operated a winery there. His brother Tristan had known Taz best. Judge Sinclair mentioned that he’d seen him in his official FBI capacity on one occasion years back.

  I kind of knew that story; it was a horrific one. But I also knew that Judge Sinclair had gone out on a limb for Taz, and in doing so, probably saved my sister’s life. That fact alone would garner eternal respect for the man from me.

  All in all, the evening had gone well. When it was finally winding down, Avery excused herself to walk with me back to my cabin.

  “Well,” she said after we’d walked about twenty yards, “Was it as bad as you expected?”

  “Who said I expected it to be bad?” I asked. “I dig your family. I was me, Avery. I won’t be anyone else. What they see is what they get.”

  Before our final good night kiss, she invited me over for a fall barbecue the following Sunday afternoon at her Uncle Tristan’s place. “I dunno,” I said reluctantly. I appreciated the fact she wanted to include me in these family get-togethers but hell, I didn’t want to overdose on it this soon into our relationship. “You know Sunday is my day for getting laundry done, cleaning up the cabin, shit like that.”

  “Oh come on,” she prodded playfully. “Sarah is finally coming home this weekend and you haven’t met her or Reese yet. Or even my Aunt Gina. I know you’ll love her.”

  “Which one? Sarah or your Aunt Gina?”

  “Both,” she said rubbing up against me.

  “Damn girl,” I said, stifling a grin, “I can’t refuse you, can I?”

  “It must be my magic,” she teased back. “See you tomorrow. I’ll come by around four and we can ride over together.”

  “We’re gonna have to, babe. You’re the only one with wheels and I’m clueless as to where they live.”

  Little did I know that my whole world would change in less than twenty-four hours.

  Chapter 17

  “In the end we’re all Jerry Springer Show guests, really, we just haven’t been on the show.” - Marilyn Manson

  Avery

  October 15th

  Dinner with my parents at the estate went fantastically well! I’d been worried, I won’t lie. And it wasn’t because I didn’t think Bryce would win them over, because clearly he had held his own. It was more because he was so opposite of Trent. Not that Trent was perfect, because he was not! But if you knew all of Trent’s “pedigrees” and “blue blood” history, and the fact that it took forever for him to win my father over…well you get it, right?

  I was pretty sure my dad had always known that Trent was fake. It just took me way longer to figure that out. And yeah, Bryce was rough around the edges, I knew that, and to be perfectly honest? I loved it. It totally served him well. There wasn't a thing I'd change about my guy.

  Dark brooding looks. Thick sooty lashes that no guy should ever be blessed with. Thick wavy hair and a body that most guys who worked out regularly at a gym would envy. But the physical stuff all came easy to Bryce. It was the other things–the emotional things that he struggled to conquer.

  He was his own person. Good or bad; gifted or flawed; Bryce was one hundred percent who he wanted to be, or who he ascribed to be. He was still growing, learning, and finding himself.

  Just like I was.

  Bryce came from good people. That was apparent. He was also very intelligent beneath his rough edges. That also was obvious. But I’d seen so much evolvement in him over the past few months he’d been here. That chip on his shoulder had finally dissolved into dust. We had clicked as friends first, and now as lovers. We hadn’t used the “L” word with each other, and I didn’t see that happening for a while only because we were both so young, and life had dealt us both reasons not to be too quick to toss it out there.

  Different reasons. But still, we were taking things slow and that was fine with me.

  I sighed as I snuggled down in my bed, pulling the comforter up and under my chin. It had been a perfect day. I wanted to re-live every moment of it before I fell asleep.

  It wasn’t quite nine o’clock in the morning when there was a knock on my door. “Avery,” my father’s voice called from the other side, “are you awake?”

  “Yes, Dad. Come in.”

  I’d already pulled on jeans and a sweater a
nd was looking to see what boots I felt like wearing for the day. “Breakfast ready?” I asked, pulling on a calfskin Lucchese boot. My parents were sticklers for all of us sitting down for meals together whenever we were in the same zip code.

  “Uh…not yet, but there’s someone downstairs who’s trying to locate Bryce. It’s a matter of some urgency I think, Avery.” He had a pensive look on his face.

  “Has someone in his family had an accident or something?” I asked. “Who is it?”

  He hesitated for a moment, which was starting to freak me out.

  He cleared his throat. “No, she’s a former classmate of his from high school. She needs to find him. She’s pregnant.”

  “What?” I whirled around to face my father, looking up into his eyes, I could tell there was more. “She’s pregnant? By Bryce?”

  “That’s her story,” he replied. I could tell it pained him to be breaking this to me. “I told her you could direct her to Bryce’s cottage. She’s a bit out of sorts. I want to make sure she doesn’t wander around the place looking for him, honey.”

  “I’ve got it,” I replied, brushing past him. My heart thudded in my chest. With each step I took down the stairs, a feeling of dread enveloped me. Who was this person who had suddenly come into my world and ripped a piece of my heart out?

  She was standing in the foyer. Blessedly, she was alone. No family or servants nearby to witness my ultimate humiliation.

  If she really had been a classmate of Bryce’s, she was a good distance from home. If she lied and was a local girl, I’d know it as soon as she turned to face me.

  “May I help you?” I asked taking the last couple of steps so we were standing within close proximity. She was taller than me; no surprise there I guess.

  She whirled around, her long black hair swirled around her shoulders. My eyes were instantly drawn to her protruding round belly. Definitely pregnant.

  “Who are you?” she asked, quirking a brow over the eye that looked as if it had landed on the wrong side of a fist. I drew in a sharp breath.

  “I ran into a door,” she deadpanned when she caught me focusing on the black eye. “I’m here to see Bryce Slater. I went to the address down the road his mother gave me, but the office was closed. I took my chances coming here since the sign on the gate said “Sinclair Stables,” same as the one on the office door.”

  “I’m Avery Sinclair. Yes…the office is closed on weekends. Bryce Slater is employed here. Who may I ask is inquiring?”

  “Another inquisition, I see,” she replied. “Look, I’ll tell you the same thing I told the man I just spoke to. I’m an old friend of Bryce’s from Decatur. Wanted to pop on by to surprise him with his impending fatherhood. What else do you need to know before I’m permitted to speak with him?”

  Okay, she was agitated. Maybe even rightfully so, but her attitude with me wasn’t going to get her anywhere and she needed to know that right now. “So I’m Bryce’s supervisor. I’m part of management here, understand? And that gives me the responsibility of ensuring the safety of our employees. Now, if you don’t wish to tell me your name so that I can clear access for you to be on this property, I’ll wish you a nice day, Ms–”

  “The name is Mandy. Mandy Jo Reynolds.”

  “Thank you. Now Mandy Jo, if you would please take a seat in the parlor to your right, I’ll let Bryce know you’re here. It will take a few minutes.”

  “Yeah, can’t believe he doesn’t have his cell anymore. This is really an inconvenience,” she replied with a sniff, turning to her left to enter the parlor. It was then I noticed she’d brought a backpack with her.

  “No kidding,” I muttered, “Sit tight.”

  I don’t remember making the trek to Bryce’s cottage, but somehow I did. The sound of my fist banging on his screen door brought me back to the reality of the present. I hadn’t realized just how inconvenient it was that Bryce had disconnected his cell service until now. Maybe that was because I hated having to confront him with this face to face. It would have been so much easier for me to text him.

  The mother of your child is up at the manor.

  Congrats! You’re going to be a daddy!

  Does the name Mandy Jo Reynolds ring a bell, Bryce?

  Guess who’s coming to dinner at your place?

  Your sordid past just showed up on OUR doorstep, Bryce. Please come and collect her!

  Your baggage has hunted you down, Bryce. Time to pay the piper.

  All sorts of texts ran through my mind in those brief seconds it took for Bryce to open his door. A look of mild surprise crossed his rakishly handsome face. I wanted to smack it for some strange reason.

  “Hey baby, I know I’m not late, what’s up?”

  I took a deep breath, all the while my mind repeated the mantra: I can do this. I will do this.

  “There’s a pregnant girl up at the house. She says it’s yours,” I blurted, watching his jaw drop open and confusion mask his eyes as he studied me and my words sunk in.

  “What?”

  “Is that all you have to say, Bryce?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Avery?”

  “Let me give it to you in sign language, Bryce,” I retorted angrily, “Woman,” I said pointing to my chest, “pregnant,” I continued, my arms making circular motions over my flat tummy, puffing out my cheeks, “at the house. Says baby (I made my arms swing in a cradle motion) is yours,” I finished jabbing my index finger at him.

  The look of confusion on his face appeared as if it were here to stay.

  “Mandy Jo Reynolds,” I blurted in exasperation. “Does that name ring a damn bell?”

  “Fuck,” he growled.

  That was all I needed to hear.

  Chapter 18

  “I’d rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not.” - Kurt Cobain

  Bryce

  One hour earlier…

  I’d finished up doing laundry, the cabin was spic and span, and I’d just washed up and changed. I had some time before the next get-together with Avery’s family so I sat down at my kitchen counter and opened the letter that had come several days earlier from my mom. I felt guilty that it had slipped my mind, and made a mental note to write back quickly or call them from Avery’s phone or the office.

  Dear Bryce,

  Hope everything is going well, although without your phone being in service and the fact that you aren’t very prompt in writing, we never know.

  We are proud that you’ve covered all of the expenses regarding your court case, but we all miss you very much. Have you considered coming home? If not permanently, then what about a visit? I’ve been nagging you on that for a while now, I wish you would give me an answer. Your dad, Sidney, and I miss you like crazy - and you know I mean that, honey. I really feel as if your going to Bristol has been a positive thing in many respects. I hope you don’t hold that against us.

  The three of us would love to come down and bring your truck. We could actually rent a car to drive back. Please let me know. Have you thought about reactivating your phone? I know you’re making money now so really, Bryce, it would be a nice way for us to keep in touch.

  Speaking of phones, I wanted to tell you that a friend of yours from school, Mandy Reynolds, called here a few days ago. She said that she’s tried to call you but your number isn’t good anymore. She asked if she could have your new number and I explained you didn’t have one. So she asked if she could have your address to write to you. I gave it to her, I hope that was okay to do, but it’s good to keep in touch with friends and FAMILY (hint hint).

  We love and miss you! Write (OR CALL) soon.

  Love,

  Mom

  A pang of guilt hit me in the gut. I needed to do a better job of staying in touch. I made another mental note to get my phone reactivated. Even though I’d loved being “off the grid,” it was time that I manned up to my familial responsibilities so my folks didn’t think I still ha
d a stick stuck up my ass. All that was history as far as I was concerned. My life had changed for the better, and in part, it was because of their tough love. There was no denying that. Plus, having Avery in my life was the best thing that had happened to me since…well, since forever.

  My mind drifted back to my mother’s letter. The part about Mandy Reynolds. Why the fuck would Mandy want my number or my damn address? Hell, I hadn’t seen her since graduation. I actually hadn’t talked to her since the day of the spring break party. I mean, what the hell was there to say? It was a one-time deal that had turned out fucked up all the way around. I figured she wanted to put all of that in her past the same way I had. We’d done pretty much everything we could to avoid one another for the rest of the school term.

  Of course the rumor mill had run rampant about us literally getting caught with our pants down, but hey, I was already notorious for being a womanizer so I just considered it all good PR. That’s how fucked up my thinking was back then.

  I had some time to spare so I pulled a notepad from the kitchen drawer and a pen and sat at the breakfast bar and started a letter back to Mom.

  Hey Mom,

  Sorry I’ve not done better keeping in touch with you and Dad. I’ll get my phone re-activated next week. To be honest, it was kind of chill dropping out of society for a bit. I think I needed it. It gave me time to think and reflect on the path I was taking. You and Dad did right in sending me to Bristol. At first I thought it sucked, but things have changed for me a lot.

  I know that eighteen doesn’t automatically make me an adult–that it takes making better choices and weighing the consequences of my actions and my decisions in order to do that. And being away from all the temptations back home helped. But there were temptations here, too. And I won’t lie–I did make a few bad choices, but over the past three months that has all changed.

  It would be really cool if you guys wanted to drive down with my truck. There’s somebody here I want you to meet. Her name is Avery Sinclair. I think you and Dad will like her. Just let me know when. Oh and weird about Mandy Jo wanting my address, but whatever.