Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology

by Anthony, Jane

  Marisa’s thickly lined cat eyes roll toward the kitchen before settling back on me. “Uhh, Austin?”

  A feeling of dread comes over me just hearing his name out loud. The thought of coming face to face with Austin again makes the bile rise in my throat. I turn my head, hoping AJ’s not within earshot, and turn back when I see him on the phone facing the corner. “I doubt I’ll see him. Gran’s been gone a few weeks now. I’m sure he packed up shop and split.” My wishful thinking is just that. Wishful. I know he’ll be there. He’d never leave the horses unattended, and he’d never let the ranch fall to hell. It’s too important to him.

  The oldest of eight kids, Austin comes from a huge family. His father’s a preacher, and his mother’s a homemaker. They barely had enough money to scrape by. It’s how Austin ended up on our ranch to begin with. It started with him just wanting to bring some money to his family and ended with him becoming a part of ours. Half the time, I’d find him sleeping in the stables instead of going home. I finally begged Gran to make up a space for him in the house. She traded part of his salary for room and board, and from then on, he was ours twenty-four hours a day. A live-in ranch hand at our disposal.

  “How much does AJ know about him?”

  “Enough.”

  My history with Austin is about as ancient as scripture and as dead as the Latin it’s written in. AJ knows I was engaged. He doesn’t need the whole nasty story.

  “You’re gonna break the little drummer boy’s heart, aren’t you?”

  “Of course not! There is nothin’ between Austin and me anymore. That ship sailed a long time ago.”

  Am I trying to convince her or myself? Hearing his voice was like a trigger. Something in my chest blossomed the minute that slow drawl seeped into my ear. It seeped into my heart. I’m sure it’s just homesickness, but leaving him has been a decision I’ve regretted since day one. I can’t deny that.

  I glance back at AJ, who’s still on the phone. A small smile grows on his lips when he catches my eye. We haven’t known each other long, but there’s something about him I can’t quite shake. He, too, has found his way into my heart. However, I can’t have them both.

  Bright pink splashes streak the sky as the sun begins to set over Jill and Jameson’s house. The new life that’s been thrust upon me weighs heavily on my shoulders as I hop down from the truck. The crooked set of AJ’s hat is a sign of his equaled discontent. That letter was a bomb that blew up in our faces, eliminating everyone’s joy.

  I force a smile on my face as the front door opens wide. “Hi!” Jillian singsongs. “Thank you so much, guys! We really appreciate this.”

  AJ takes the baby from his sister’s arms as we enter. She adjusts the fallen strap on her little black dress and continues rattling off information. “Jameson already fed Zakk and put him in his jammies, so all you guys really have to do is hang out with him then put him to bed ...”

  Jameson comes down the stairs, dapper in a button-down shirt and jeans.

  Date night. How adorable?

  “You have my number and Jameson’s number. I made up some bottles and left out some snacks just in case. Oh, and don’t forget—he can’t sleep without his monkey. And leave the nightlight on so I can check on him when I get home—”

  “All right, Jill!” AJ snaps. “Go out already. I’ll take care of the kid.”

  Jameson snorts and leads his wife toward the door. “First night away. She’s freaking out a little,” he whispers.

  “You know I can hear you,” Jill adds.

  Jameson rolls his eyes with a grin. “Thanks, guys. Have fun.”

  “You too,” I reply, as they walk outside.

  The door clicks closed, and AJ just looks at me. Behind his eyes, a layer of melancholy settles over his normally smoldering gaze. Bubbles of spit form in the corners of Zakk’s mouth. He screeches and kicks his feet, trying to get down. I follow AJ into the family room and sit, while he drops to the floor, setting Zakk down in front of him.

  “I’m sorry your last night in New Jersey is spent like this,” he murmurs.

  I sit down next to him and take his hand in mine. “It doesn’t matter. If I’m with you, I’m happy.”

  Cartoon cats count to ten on the television set, but the silence in the room is deafening. It’s our last night together, so we need to make this count. The moment is heavy as we sit in silence, both of us fixated on Zakk. “Look,” AJ starts. “Why don’t you grab a bottle while I order us a pizza or something? We’ll put Zakk to bed and just chill.”

  “You’re hungry again?” This time, my smile is genuine.

  “I have to keep up my energy. Satisfying you is hard work!” he jokes, returning my grin with one of his own.

  I push to my feet and go to the kitchen. A cold blast of air bursts from the fridge when I open it in search of a prepared bottle. Everything in here has a specific place. Clear bins labeled with care, organized down to the very last strawberry. Mini jars of what look like baby food are stacked in neat rows next to a line of bottles on the side. I grab the first one and pull off the attached sticky note, reading Jillian’s big loopy handwriting.

  Run bottle under hot water for about five minutes until warm. Do not microwave!

  Taking a quick survey of the kitchen, I notice sticky notes in several places. Small neon squares with instructions in the same messy script, while others are love notes in neat tiny print. I didn’t notice them the last time I was here, but now that I see them, they make me smile.

  I warm the bottle as instructed and bring it back to the family room where Zakk waits on AJ’s lap. “Your sister likes things a certain way, huh?”

  AJ chuckles. “That she does. Here, take Zakk. I’m going to order the food.” He stands, resting the baby on my lap.

  The minute he sees the bottle, Zakk opens his mouth then sucks down the milk with the fervor of a starving man. “Slow down, lil’ guy. You’ll get a belly ache.” His jaw clamps tight as I give the bottle a light tug.

  The bottle is almost empty by the time AJ is finished with his call. “He’s drinking that bottle way too fast …” he starts, but before he has time to finish, milk erupts from Zakk’s mouth in a volcanic stream, covering us both in warm, opaque fluid.

  “Gross!” I whine.

  AJ just laughs. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll take care of Zakk.”

  Covered in a mix of vomit and spit, I jog to the kitchen while AJ takes the baby upstairs. My shirt is soaked—there’s no saving it. I pull the milk-stained garment off my body and wipe the remaining mess off my skin with a paper towel. The sound of running water flows from upstairs. I follow it, hoping to borrow AJ’s tee, but his gentle voice slows my pace.

  “That wasn’t nice, Shredder. Look at you. All covered in milk.”

  I peek through the crack between the door and the frame as AJ sets Zakk in the tub. He washes him with care, using a tender voice I’ve never heard before. The minute he thinks no one’s watching he drops the tough-guy routine. But I’m watching. And my heart melts when he pulls Zakk from the tub and wraps him in a towel, cradling him against his burly chest.

  Zakk cuddles into him, and AJ drops a kiss to his towel covered head. “Tired, huh, kid? Let’s get some new jammies and get you to bed,” he coos again.

  I back up and move toward the stairs as swiftly as I can before he catches me watching. The reality of it makes my head spin. AJ wants a family. He’s not just looking for a girlfriend; he’s looking for a future. There’s only one problem … I’m not sure I’m cut out for that.

  Austin always talked about children. He wanted a big family, but the word “kids” falling off his lips was enough to make my skin crawl. I have no positive parental role models—I can’t even keep a Chia Pet alive. How am I supposed to raise a litter of babies?

  Yet seeing AJ with Zakk filled my inside with warmth. He would be an excellent father. The kind of dad who throws the ball around and helps with homework. The kind of dad any kid would be lucky to have.

 
; Curiosity grabs hold again, and I sneak up the stairs. Zakk is dressed in clean pajamas, and his head rests on AJ’s shoulder as his uncle rocks from foot to foot, quietly humming a soft lullaby. The moment steals the breath from my lungs. There are many facets to AJ Morello. He’s rough and tumble, full of jokes and attitude, passionate and lewd. They’re all things I love about him, but the side he keeps hidden away might be my favorite one of all: the sentimental side. The kind and softhearted piece he buries away. The part that turns him from a guy to a man. The real AJ.

  17

  AJ

  Day breaks over the horizon as I load Casey’s bags in the truck. The sky is purple, and the streets are silent. I love this time of morning. When the Earth’s still sleeping and no one is around to disturb the scenery.

  It’s one of the reasons I chose this house. It sits at the end of a dead end street, across the way from undeveloped, county-owned property. Only one house is next to mine, and a woman who’s about two hundred years old owns it. She never comes outside. Every so often, I’ll see a delivery guy bringing in groceries, but that’s the extent of it. My own quiet oasis from the commotion of life.

  It’s not that noise bothers me. I am a drummer, after all. It’s just that sometimes it’s nice to be able to shut the world out. Close the door and bask in the silence for a minute.

  The slam of the storm door echoes through the quiet neighborhood as Casey comes out of the house. It’s June, but already far too hot by New Jersey standards. Her shorts barely cover her, making her shapely legs go on and on without end. She’s graceful, like a dancer. Slender and long. I watch her come toward me, taking the last of her things from her hands when she gets here. The only thing I want to do is drag her back inside the house and take those shorts back off her, but our time together has run out.

  “We should get going if you want to make your flight. You ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” She sighs.

  We haven’t even gotten on the road yet, and she already looks tired. She didn’t sleep well. She tossed and turned, flipping her pillows and fiddling with the blankets. Something about going home has her on edge. Casey shouldn’t have to do this alone. I wish I could go with her, but I can’t. Jill needs me. “Oh, I think I left my phone plugged in on the counter.”

  She turns back toward the house, but I stop her. “You go ahead in the truck. I got it.”

  I jog back to the house to grab the pink camouflage Samsung and smile when I see my picture as her background. She took this photo just the other day. I was lying in my bed, wrapped in crisp black sheets, hugging my pillow under my arm. She whispered, “Wake up, sleepyhead,” and the moment my eye cracked open, she snapped it.

  Casey’s already settled in the truck when I emerge. Her golden head shines in the sunlight as she sings along to whatever’s playing on the radio. Pink lips move without a care in the world. She’s always so shy about singing along. I watch her when she thinks I’m not paying attention. She mouths the words silently to herself, but alone in my truck, she lets it all out. It's damn hot.

  Carrie Underwood belts out of my speakers at a shockingly loud decibel as I pull open the door. She startles, and a sad smile leaks across her face. My fingers catch under her chin, lifting it to meet my gaze. “Why so sad, cowgirl?”

  “I only just found you. I’m not ready to let you go.”

  “A little distance isn’t going to change anything. We’ll make it work.”

  It’s more than a little distance. Texas and New Jersey aren’t even in the same time zone. She might as well be going to Mars. Truthfully, I have no idea what this means for Casey and me. All I know is that my feelings for her aren’t geographical. This isn’t a smash and dash situation. I can’t give her up that easily.

  “You seem so sure.” Her light touch caresses my face. “How do I know you aren’t going to find someone else?”

  My fingers gently close around her wrist. “I waited twenty-seven years for you.”

  With a swift tug, I pull her closer, take her in my arms, and press my lips against hers. I allow myself to get lost in her for just a moment, soaking in the taste of her mouth and her flower fragrance before forcing myself away. My dick is already twitching in my jeans from this tiny amount of contact. We’ll never get to the airport if I don’t stop now.

  Casey steals the hat from my head as I ease onto the highway and pulls the brim low over her eyes. Blond waves fall out from underneath, flying around in the wind and rushing through the open window at her side. Iron Maiden rocks the speakers. Bruce Dickinson cries aloud with all his might, screaming over the nasty sounds of heavy riffs. The heels of my palms press against the steering wheel, while my thumbs tap out the beat. It takes my mind off the fact that we’re saying goodbye for an undetermined length of time. Usually, I’m fine with her constant country caterwauling—I’ve even started to like it—but today, I need something louder. Casey’s about to be schooled in Metal 101.

  “Your music is so angry.” She pushes up the hat’s bill with one finger; her eyes are as bright as the sky as she looks my way.

  “Some of it, but this one is different.” I turn the volume up so she can hear it better. “You need to listen beyond the distortion and wailing drum beats. The words hold more power than the music behind it.”

  Lyrics don’t usually matter to me, but every so often, a song will come along that speaks directly to my soul. This is one of them. A song about a man in his dying hour, full of regrets and lamenting about the things he hasn’t achieved yet.

  The maniacal music in the background is the only sound as we drive to the airport. The weight we both carry on our hearts is a heavy burden to hold. Yesterday, I had everything I ever wanted nestled in the palm of my hand, but today, it’s all falling to hell. It’s my shit luck coming back to bite me in the ass. My gift from the universe for being an asshole. I’m given the tiniest taste of something real, only to have it jerked from my grasp. It’s not fair.

  Even in the wee hours of the morning, the airport bustles with life. Commuters, travelers, and airport workers move about with the rolling sounds of luggage following close behind them. Casey stands at the entrance of the airport looking sad and afraid. Two feelings I’m on board with, even though I refuse to let it show. I’ve always been the strong one, and now is no different.

  “Call me as soon as you get in so I know you got there safely.”

  Still wearing my hat, she takes the carry-on from my hand before setting it on the ground and wrapping her arms around my neck. “I will. I promise.”

  Her body is warm, her skin sweet. I don’t want to let her go, but I pull away just enough to look in her hypnotic eyes one more time, touch her face, and feel her lips. It’s not the last time I’ll ever see her, but I feel like it is.

  “Hey, AJ.” She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, letting the corners of her mouth turn up, teasing me with those damn dimples I love so much. “Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I’ll return it when I get back.”

  “Damn, baby. You stole my heart and my lines.”

  A giggle floats from her mouth, embedding itself in my chest and threatening to cave it in. Her laugh is still one of the best sounds I’ve ever heard, coming in a close second to her sexy twang moaning my name. I drop my lips to hers, savoring the taste and the softness of her mouth against mine. “We’ll see each other soon.”

  I watch her walk away until she disappears from sight. I feel like my heart’s been crushed to dust. I should have known better than to open myself up to someone like this. Everyone I love just leaves me eventually.

  Jillian’s already at the shop when I arrive, which means Jameson isn’t far behind. She’s always the first one on the scene, opening the office and making coffee. It’s a routine she’s so used to, I bet she can do it in her sleep by now. Zakk’s playpen is perched in the corner under a Budweiser clock with a naked woman on it. The phrase Future Headbanger sits over the flaming guitar on his miniature Pantera tee. The Morello family
is a classy bunch.

  “Estranged” emanates quietly from the huge desk in the center. Normally, I love this song, but I'm in no mood for it today. "Turn that shit off."

  "It's not GNR's best album, but I wouldn't call it shit," Jillian argues but complies anyway, before walking to the percolator to pour me a coffee. I’ve told her a hundred times that I’m capable of making it myself, but she insists. “What’s wrong with you?”

  I take the coffee from her hand and blow on the hot liquid before taking a tiny test sip. Her hard gaze bores a hole through me. Jill knows me better than I know myself. We’ve spent so much time together that we don’t even need words to communicate. The problem is, she likes to talk about shit, and I don’t. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “Whatever, dude. You look like you’re ready to Hulk out and kill us all.”

  The door buzzes overhead as Jameson walks in. Like clockwork, Jill hands him a cup of coffee, and he drops a peck on her lips. Their open affection is a hot poker jabbing me in the gut. I’ve seen this every day for the past six years, but for some reason, I can’t handle it right now. My jealous fist closes on the Styrofoam cup in my hand, cracking it. Scorching black coffee runs all over my hand and coveralls. "Shit!" The cup makes a hollow sound as it bounces off the floor and lands in the dark brown puddle at my feet.

  I'm a mess, both literally and figuratively. Watching Casey walk away was so much harder than I anticipated. I assured her that we could make the long distance work, but I don't want that. I want her here so I can kiss her whenever the mood strikes.

  "Yeah, sure, you're fine," Jill quips, grabbing the mop from the bathroom as I try to dry myself with a nearby red rag.

  "Sorry," I grumble walking through the shop door. I have to put some space between Jill and me. It's too damn easy to take my shit out on her. Her love for me is unconditional, and I don't want to take that for granted. I've been that guy already, and he sucks. I just have to get through the day, and then I can bang my aggression out on my kit at home.