by Melinda Minx
Brody laughs, as I crush his hand. “This guy works out!”
“He’s my sister’s…”
“Boyfriend,” I say.
“Ah!” Brody says. “Marriage just not your thing?”
I raise an eyebrow at him. Why the fuck is he being so nosy straight off the bat, how does he even--?
“I told Brody about Noah,” Jane says, smiling sheepishly.
“Ah,” I say. “Marriage is definitely on the table, Brody.”
He gives me a shit-eating grin, and takes a big swig of Jane’s beer. “You sure you don’t want to have a drink with us? You said you’re taking a cab, so--”
“I’m gonna go spend time with my kid,” I say. “So no, I’m good.”
I give Jane a look, and she stares down at her feet rather than meeting my gaze.
I don’t like this situation at all. Brody seems like a jackass as far as I can tell, and I’d bet a few grand that he’s the one who got her drinking again. I check my phone and see that my cab is pulling into the hotel parking lot.
I take in a deep breath, considering my options. If I leave Jane with Brody, I risk that she gets even more drunk and falls off the wagon even harder. I then also have to decide if I should mention any of this to Elisabeth or not.
On the other hand, Jane is a grown-ass woman, and I sure as shit am not her father. What am I going to do? Hoist her over my shoulder and carry her into the cab with me, then report to Elisabeth how bad she fucked up? Is one glass of beer and a night out with a douchebag like Brody really worth making such a fuss over?
There’s one compromise I can think of. One thing that will get both Jane and Elisabeth equally mad at me--but not furious. Rather than taking the full-brunt of one sister’s anger, I can get both of them lukewarm pissed off at me. Yeah...that’s gotta be the right call.
“You know,” I say. “I was gonna cook dinner for Elisabeth and Noah. Noah will be in bed by 8 or so...why don’t you two come with me? We can all get to know each other together.”
Jane widens her eyes at me, glaring and shaking her head almost imperceptibly. Yep, she’s not happy with me, as expected. That’s about the same reaction I expect out of Elisabeth when I call her and tell her who’s crashing our dinner.
“Sure!” Brody says, jumping out of his chair. “I’m down! I’d love to meet Jane’s sister and her nephew.”
I narrow my eyes at Brody a little bit. I expected him to fight me on this. I figure he wanted to get Jane good and drunk and take her back to his place. That’s probably what they did the night before, too. Maybe my douche-dar is a bit busted, and Brody isn’t actually a bad guy. Maybe he really does want to get to know Jane.
“Okay…” Jane says, eyeing the glass of beer.
I know that look in her eyes. She wants to drink it, bad, and she can’t with me watching.
“Cab is here,” I say. “Anyone need to piss?”
“Yeah,” Brody says. “I’ll be right back.”
He slaps some money down onto the table and stomps over toward the restrooms in the lobby.
Jane looks at me with intense worry, and I raise my eyebrows at her, as if daring her to say it aloud.
“Look, Jack,” she finally says. “It’s one beer.”
“You didn’t even finish it either,” I say. “You gave it to Brody.”
She scoffs. “If you tell Elisabeth, she’ll worry. She always worries about me, but honestly, I can take care of myself. I’m really shit with men, okay Jack? I need a beer to be able to open up a bit...it’s no coincidence that I’ve been single for as long as I’ve been sober. You can’t make a big deal out of one beer.”
She’s sure talking a lot about it for me making a big deal out of it.
“I know,” I say. “That’s why it’s just one beer, and why you don’t care if you get to finish it now. I’m sure this isn’t your third or fourth one.”
Her icy stare confirms it.
“Look,” I say. “I don’t have to tell her, but you realize what kind of position that puts me in? I’m trying to show her what kind of man I am, that I’m a good father. Do you really want to make me keep secrets from her?”
Jane sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t drink anymore. I’ll go to a meeting tomorrow. You won’t have to lie or keep anything secret, because I won’t drink another drop.”
I nod. I want to believe her, but I can’t exactly take that promise at face value. But it’s good enough, for now. “Alright,” I say.
The cab driver calls me, and I tell him we’ll be just a minute or two. Brody sure likes to take his time pissing.
Brody comes back with a big grin, as if he’s totally stoked about the piss he just took. Or maybe he took a shit--he’s definitely walking lighter on his feet than before. And he wasn’t exactly fast. Well, I don’t blame him, the last thing you want to do when arriving at your new girlfriend’s sister’s place is walk in and shit in her toilet. Better to do that on neutral territory.
“Cab here?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “Let’s go.”
18
Elisabeth
I’ve got my makeup on. I’m not overdressed, but I do want to look good. I even got some candles out, for after Noah goes to sleep. I’m imagining Jack and me sitting together and drinking some wine by candlelight, and--
My phone vibrates.
“Phone! Phone!” Noah shouts. “Mommy! Phone, it’s your phone!”
“I know, sweetie,” I say. Noah loves the concept of the phone. He went through a phase a few months back where he would always ask if the phone was for him. I had to resort to getting Jane to “call Noah” now and then just so that the phone would be for him sometimes.
I look at the screen and see that it’s Jack. Hopefully he won’t be too late, I’m getting hungry.
I answer, “Hey! You on the way?”
“Sure am,” he says.
There’s some apprehension in his voice.
“Why do you sound so nervous?” I ask.
“Well,” he says, “it’s a funny story, but I ran into your sister and her new boyfriend, Brody, at the hotel restaurant.”
“Oh,” I say, not quite connecting the dots.
“So,” he says, “I invited them over. I figured it would be like a...double date...and you can get to know Brody.”
“Oh,” I say, voice deflating.
Brody and Jane. Not that I don’t like Jane, but the whole wine by candlelight thing is going to go out the window with what I can only assume is a loud asshole guy and an alcoholic sister who can’t drink a sip without drinking four bottles.
Well, I can’t be too angry, maybe just a little pissed off. I do want to eventually meet Brody to make sure that he’s not as douchey as his name suggests. If he’s bad news for Jane, I want to know early so I can try prying them apart before she gets too attached. If I could have gotten to her earlier with Aldus, then I could have kept her from falling under his spell.
“So,” Jack says, answering my silence. “We’ll be there soon. You good?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not mad?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “I’m not mad.”
“Uh,” he says. “Okay then. See you soon!”
“Bye.”
I hang up, and I feel mad. Damn it! He’s leaving in two days, and one of the two nights we have left has just been Brodied. Maybe Jane and Brody will just leave after dinner. I shouldn’t assume the night is totally shot yet.
“Is it Dad?” Noah asks.
“Yes,” I say, smiling. “Dad, and Jane, and Jane’s new friend.”
“Oh,” Noah says.
“Yeah,” I mutter to myself. “That was also my reaction.”
The door just swings open when they arrive. No knock or doorbell. Jane is with them, so of course.
Jane walks in first, and she waves to me, then immediately rushes to the stairs. She says back to me from the stairs, “Gotta use the bathroom!”
&n
bsp; Brody has short-cropped blonde hair and dark brown eyes. He’s got nice facial structure, and a good smile. He’s in shape, too, but even though his smile looks nice, it comes off as fake.
“I guess,” he says, looking at Jane as she runs up the stairs to the bathroom, “I’ll introduce myself then. I’m Brody. You must be Liz.”
I smile, and I realize my smile probably looks just as fake as his. I doubt he was thrilled about coming here either. Seriously, why did Jack think this was such a great idea?
“Elisabeth,” I say. “Only Jane calls me Liz.”
“Ah,” he says, shaking my hand. “Elisabeth then. And this must be Noah?”
Noah, I realize suddenly, is wrapped around my leg, hiding from the stranger.
“He’s shy around new people,” I say.
“Hey, Noah!” Brody says, bending down.
Jack gives me a part-apologetic, mostly awkward grin. Even his dopey expressions like this make him look hot. It’s hard to stay mad at him.
I smile, then look down at Noah clutching my leg. “Noah, you want to go give your dad a hug?”
Noah just locks eyes with me, then he side-eyes Brody, and finally he shakes his head.
“He’ll loosen up with time,” I say to Brody.
“Yeah,” Brody says, standing up. Brody looks to Jack, elbows him, and says, “The kid looks a lot like you man, congrats.”
Jack grins, wide and genuine, “Yeah, he sure does. You guys all sit down, I’m going to get cooking!”
“I’ll help you,” I offer, but Jack shakes his head profusely. “You relax. I cook better alone anyway.”
“What are we having?” Brody asks.
“Poblano peppers stuffed with chicken and cheese, covered in mole sauce,” Jack says.
Brody laughs. “Are you a Mexican grandma?”
“No…,” Jack says, “but my grand uncle’s wife was, it’s her recipe. It’s a damn good recipe.”
I smile. “The recipe has like 30 ingredients. We bought them all earlier today. I hope Jack can make this fast, I’m hungry.”
Brody rubs his belly. “Get crackin’, Jack!”
Jack goes into the kitchen, and Noah starts to follow him.
“Oh,” I say. “Noah, your Dad said he likes to cook alone--”
“No,” Jack says, smiling from the doorway to the kitchen. “Noah’s the only help I’ll accept. Come on, buddy.”
Noah and Jack disappear into the kitchen, and I realize with a sudden feeling of panic that I’m awkwardly alone with Brody.
“Jane sure is taking a long time,” I say.
Brody nods, and says nothing.
Okay, that was it. That was the one thing I could think of saying to make conversation, and he didn’t even respond to it.
He plops himself down on the couch and puts both arms out, fully extended. He spreads his legs so wide, too, that I doubt more than one other person could fit on the couch with him.
I sit down on the loveseat across from him, with the coffee table between us. I wait for him to say something, but he just bobs his head up and down as if he’s listening to music. There is no music.
“So,” I say. “What do you do?”
“Whatever I feel like, mostly,” he says.
I cough. He must know what I’m asking him? Is he really that dense?
“I mean,” I say. “Uh, never mind, how long have you lived in Anchorage?”
“Three years,” he says.
“So you moved here in, like 2014? From where?”
“Yeah, winter 2014. Moved from Nevada,” he says, still bobbing his head.
The head bobbing is really starting to grate on me. I’m tempted to turn some music on just so it’s less weird.
“You probably expected snow when you got here,” I say, forcing laughter.
“Well, I sure got it,” he says, pointing out the window.
“Not in 2014, though,” I say.
“Huh?”
“2014, lowest snowfall in the city’s history. Everyone made a huge deal out of it. I arrived just a year before you.”
He looks at me totally confused, but then he just says, “Oh, well, coming from the desert, it seemed like a lot to me, I guess.”
“Seriously,” I say. “What is Jane doing?”
Brody just bobs his head.
“I’m going to go put on some music,” I say, standing up. “What kind of music do you like?”
He tilts his head a bit, then says, “Oh, I don’t really like music.”
He bobs his head again, and starts to tap his foot, as well.
I’m tempted to kick his ankle at this point. “I’m going to go check on Jane, I think.”
“Cool,” he says.
I go up the stairs, leaving Brody alone to the silent symphony in his head that he apparently doesn’t even like.
I knock on the door to the upstairs bathroom. The exhaust fan is running, so I can’t hear anything from inside.
“Jane?” I shout over the fan.
No answer.
“Jane!”
“Huh?” she shouts back at me.
“You okay?”
“Number two!” Jane shouts back.
I sigh. “Hurry up!”
I normally don’t rush people, but every minute alone with Brody feels like 20 minutes. What does Jane see in this guy? I don’t care how big his dick is, or how good he is in bed, it wouldn't be worth it as far as I’m concerned.
When I head back down the stairs, I can smell the mole sauce brewing from the kitchen. It smells damn good. Jack knows I’m kind of mad at him, so I can probably go against his wish to cook alone. Though I’d be kind of a shitty host to just leave Brody alone in the living room.
“Jane will be down soon,” I say to Brody as I step back into the living room.
“Cool,” he says. “So, you’re sure that Jack is the father?”
I feel anger flare up in my chest. He didn’t even look at me when he asked that question.
“Excuse me?” I say, staring down at him with my fists balled up.
“Just making conversation,” he says, smiling. “Just wondering how this whole thing happened, you know? It’s like, you and Jack seem good together, and the kid likes Jack, too, but where’s he been?”
“It’s not any of your business,” I say, nearly seething.
He shrugs. “Yeah, I guess not. I was just curious, and Jane wouldn’t really tell me.”
“She shouldn’t have told you,” I say. “You shouldn’t have asked.”
I turn away from him and stalk toward the kitchen. As soon as I get Jane alone, I’m going to let her know just what I think of this guy.
I step into the kitchen, and the smell hits me even stronger. Jack is holding Noah up so that he can look into the pot.
“It looks like poop!” Noah says, pointing. “Mom, it looks like poop!”
“That’s not nice to say about Dad’s cooking,” I say.
I’m still furious at Brody, but I don’t want to take it out on Noah.
“It’s cool,” Jack says, putting Noah down. “It is dark brown, Noah’s got a limited experience with dark brown-colored liquids.”
“You sure it won’t be too spicy for him?” she asks.
“The sauce isn’t spicy,” Jack says, “but the peppers are. I got some bell peppers instead of poblanos for anyone who doesn’t like spicy food.”
I start helping Jack get the rice and beans ready, and thankfully he doesn’t object at all.
“Brody is a dick,” I whisper into his ear as I pass by.
“Yeah,” Jack says. “He’s an odd one.”
“I don’t like him,” I say.
“Let’s give him a fair shake,” Jack says. “We don’t want Jane to think we’re judging her or something.”
“I’m protecting her,” Elisabeth says. “I should have been there to judge Aldus when she started dating him. This is going to be like that all over again if we’re not careful.”
Jack gives me a sympatheti
c smile, then goes back to the sauce. He tastes it with a spoon, frowns, and grabs a pinch of cumin from a bowl next to him. He tosses the cumin in and stirs, then reaches for the salt shaker. He dashes in some salt and tastes it again.
“You always gotta taste as you cook, buddy,” he says to Noah. “That’s the biggest mistake people make, just hoping it will all work out. It’s a lot like lumberjacking--you gotta feel how the wood is changing--where the weight is going after each chop. You don’t just chop blindly straight through.”
He nods at the spoon. “It’s tasting better.”
“I just blindly follow the recipe,” I say, “and get mad when it doesn’t turn out. I’ll have to try that. I get really mad when a recipe tells me to ‘add to taste,’ but that’s probably why no one raves about my cooking.”
“I’ll rave about it,” Jack says, grinning.
“Well,” I say, crossing my arms, “now I know you’ll just be faking it to make me feel better.”
I hear footsteps on the stairs. I guess Jane is coming back down. I don’t want to leave her alone with Brody at this point, so I squeeze Jack’s arm and tell him I’m going to go see Jane.
When I get to the living room, she’s resting her head against Brody’s shoulder. Brody gives me a shit-eating grin.
“You tired?” I ask, standing with my arms crossed. “It’s not even eight yet.”
Jane yawns. “I just need to get some food in me, I guess. It smells good.”
“Can we get some music on?” Brody asks suddenly. “I love to listen to music.”
He looks me dead in the eye, an evil grin going across his face.
“Good idea,” Jane says. “It feels too quiet in here.”
She gets up and walks over to the old laptop we keep on the bookshelf. Brody licks his lips and teeth and stares me down. What the fuck is this guy’s problem?
Jane turns on the TV and broadcasts her playlist to the sound bar.
“Nice set-up,” Brody says. “I’m a bit of an audiophile myself--can’t get enough music--so it’s good to see you have a legit sound system. Nothing worse than hearing music struggling to blast out of tinny laptop speakers or cheap-ass bluetooth shit from Walmart.” He tilts his head and listens, then says, “Ahh! That bass, this is Coltrane?”