My ninja skills were well honed by this point—the curse of a big family. If I timed it right, I could show up at my parents’ farmhouse at the end of the shower, be a good son and brother, then grab the leftover snacks to bring down to John’s on the beach for the second half of the first Cougars’ game of the season.
If I’d stalled long enough, the party should end twenty minutes after I turned up the long, fern-lined, dirt road. My grandfather, Clifford, grew up in the house and had passed it down to my dad when it got to be too much for him and Gramma Ellie. They had built a smaller house on the property where they could still be close to family. Lots of history here.
The woods opened up to reveal the wide meadow surrounding the house where it sat on a high bluff overlooking the shipping lanes. Over the years, the land had been divided amongst siblings into smaller lots invisible through the dense trees. Paths used by us kids to get to the cousins’ houses were overgrown now, but still there if needed. The land was worth millions, but we lived like average folks. Donnelys didn’t flaunt their wealth. In fact, we never talked about it. To get those millions meant selling land that had been in our family for generations, and that would never happen. Not even in the lean times, when loans and second mortgages were taken out, was losing or selling this land ever an option. Sure, some of the other property on the island had been sold and developed over the years, but mostly for family, or donated to the county as open space.
My place sat on three acres in the woods across the road and down a ways, the land a gift from my grandfather. I built the house myself from an old barn we converted. I preferred to live in the woods. No one walking by on the beach. Long ass driveway and only a moss-covered mailbox to mark the entrance suited me fine.
I parked by the weather-beaten barn near the edge of the clearing. Mini-vans and nicer sedans crowded the driveway near the house. Weird to think of little Lori as a married woman with friends who drove mini-vans.
Passing one of the ancient apple trees on the property, I remembered how Lori and Cara would climb up and pelt anyone who walked by with the tiny, bitter fruit. If her kids were anything like her, she was going to be in trouble.
I snuck in through the open kitchen door. Laughter and female voices carried from the living room. Needing fortitude, I grabbed a beer from the fridge and opened it on the wall-mounted bottle opener. The snacks and food in the dining room had been picked over, but I found enough to make a plate. There would be plenty to take for the game. My eye roamed over the offerings on the table and buffet. Tiny pink and blue cupcakes caught my attention, and I snorted.
They really were the puffy hearts of baked goods.
I popped one in my mouth in a single bite.
“Hey! Those are for dessert,” a female voice scolded me.
I chewed and swallowed before turning around.
The voice belonged to a tall woman wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt. A slim line of pink lace peeked out from the edge of her shirt. Nice. I let my eyes wander down past her shorts where her tan legs went on for miles. Her tits were small, but she made up for it with the legs.
“TC Donnely, stop checking out my legs.” Her voice was throaty. Sexy and unexpected. Wavy brown hair ended above her shoulders and angry green eyes greeted me when I managed to tear my mind from the fantasies of those legs wrapped around me.
“Do I know you?” I licked frosting off the side of my thumb and then took a long pull from the bottle.
Her eyes focused on my mouth and throat as I swallowed.
I flashed a grin. “Cat got your tongue?”
“I see you haven’t changed.” She crossed her arms. Smoky, her voice was smoky like she’d smoked a pack a day, but not masculine, more like an old film star or singer. In one word: sexy. Illegally so. She could make big money doing phone sex. Hell, maybe she did.
“I’m at a disadvantage here. You know me, but I can’t for the life of me remember you. And with legs like yours, I think I’d remember.” I let my gaze travel south again.
“Tom, you made it!” Lori’s voice cut through the tension.
“Hi, sis.” I hugged her, but kept my eye on the angry amazon.
“I see you and Hailey remember each other.”
“Hailey?” Impossible.
“I’m not sure Tom remembers me.”
No way was the woman standing in front of me the same annoying as fuck friend of Lori’s growing up, whom I called Idaho. Hailey King. You named your daughter after a town in Idaho, you were asking for the nickname. Growing up she’d been all gangly limbs and scowls.
“Of course he remembers you. Right?” Lori smiled and curled herself around my arm, her full belly bumping into my hip.
“Of course. Yeah. How’s it going, Idaho?”
Green eyes narrowed at me. Guess she still didn’t like the nickname.
“Idaho! No one’s called you that for ages.” Lori laughed and bounced. Pregnancy clearly made her crazy.
While Hailey scowled at me, I gave her a wink. Idaho sure grew up nice. As kids she was a true tomboy. She fought like a boy, never minding getting dirty, and didn’t put up with any bullshit from boys, even being four years younger than the pack of us. Her dad worked for the ferries and swore like the former sailor he was, a trait Hailey had picked up and taught Lori. Until Mom found out, and Lori had to wash her own mouth out with soap.
“I see you haven’t change, Thomas Clifford.” With nonchalance, she picked up my bottle and took a swig.
I ignored the use of my middle name. No way would she provoke me so easily. “That’s my drink, you know. Wouldn’t want you catching cooties.”
“I figure the alcohol will kill anything you might be carrying.” She finished the bottle.
Lori’s focus bounced between the two of us. “Right. You two need to go to your separate corners. Mom’s been asking about you. We’ve been waiting for you to arrive to open the presents.”
I glanced at the clock. “Mom said the party ended in fifteen minutes. You haven’t opened presents yet?”
Lori laughed. “Oh, she totally lied to you. We know your tricks. The party doesn’t end for another hour.” Her dimples were identical to mine and I knew she used them the same way I did . . . charming her way out of situations where people wanted to throttle her.
I closed my eyes and exhaled.
“You’ve been outwitted, TC. Again.” Hailey stood next to me; a warm, clean scent from her encompassed me. She smelled like fresh rain or summer.
“Nice to see you, Idaho. Now mind your own damn business.”
Tom’s ninja skills, zero. Mom, one. Outwitted by my mother at the age of thirty-three.
Added bonus: extra time with the snarky amazon.
Good thing? Bad thing? Hard to call yet.
“TC!” Mom greeted me with a big hug when we walked into the babypaloozed living room decorated with all sorts of cute animals. “When did you get here?”
“A few minutes ago. He’s been hiding out in the dining room eating the desserts,” Lori ratted me out.
I tossed a purple almond-shaped candy at her.
“Hey, no throwing things at the pregnant woman.” She batted away the sugar missile.
I scanned the room for my dad or a brother-in-law and found both standing in the far corner near a bowl of dip. Smiling at the ladies on the way, I made a beeline for my kind.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Greetings out of the way, we ate dip and stood awkwardly in a little pocket of testosterone.
My oldest sister Amy clapped her hands and declared it time to open the gifts. Her dark hair contrasted to the rest of ours. She inherited her coloring from Mom while the rest of us favored our dad’s light hair and blue eyes. Lori and I inherited the curls. Little Mom, as we all called Amy growing up, bossed us around more than our actual mother. Some things never changed.
“Dad, Tom, Nick, come sit.”
We grumbled and made our way over to a row of d
ining chairs behind the sectional. I sat closest to the hall for an easy exit.
“Where are Doug and Greg?” I asked.
“Doug’s out of town, and Greg had a charity golf tournament,” Dad explained.
“Greg got excused from this circus to play golf?” I asked, miffed.
“Yeah, talk to your mother about that. Had I known it was an option, I would have joined him.”
“You and me both,” I said.
“We could have made it a foursome,” Nick said.
I laughed. “Nah, you had zero chance of parole from this, man. Welcome to the rest of your life.”
“Nick, come sit with me and open gifts,” Lori called from the love seat.
I spread out and stretched my legs into the space Nick had occupied. Dad had his head turned away and leaned in his chair to peer into the family room on the other side of the door. I tipped my chair to see behind him and let out a chuckle. Sneaky bastard had the game on mute in the family room.
“What’s the score?”
He faced me and smiled. “14–3 Cougars, beginning of the second quarter.”
“Why is it grown men can’t speak up for what they want? We’re here in the house, we should be able to watch a game of football without getting in trouble.”
“One of life’s great mysteries, son.”
I shook my head and thought about grabbing a beer. Idaho had finished my last one before I could drink half.
“Cougars winning?” her voice asked from behind our row of chairs.
“Hailey!” Dad greeted her warmly. Since when had she become everyone’s favorite?
“Ken, I thought you might be thirsty.” She held up two beers and a cider. “And I owe Tom a beer.” Before sitting between us, she handed me a bottle and then passed one to my dad.
“Thanks.” I gave her a side-long look. “Did you spit in it?” I closed an eye and stared into the bottle.
“I’m not twelve anymore.”
“That’s not a no. Dad, switch bottles with me.” I reached for his bottle.
“No, I didn’t spit in your drink. Honestly. Give a girl some credit.”
“Girl? Idaho, you were never a girl.”
She smiled to herself and leaned closer to whisper in my ear, “Thirty-six inches.”
Thirty-six inches? What does that have to do with anything? “Um . . . what?”
“My inseam.” She lifted her eyebrow knowingly before excusing herself.
I choked on the liquid in my mouth and started coughing, feeling like hacking up a lung was a viable option. My eyes watered and I felt my dad’s hand slap my back. I caught Lori and Cara’s disapproving stares. Mom appeared worried.
“He’ll be fine,” Dad explained. “Wrong pipe.”
I gave the room a wave to carry on as I watched Hailey walk into the kitchen. Her legs were really long and her shorts weren’t.
Not thinking about it, I followed her.
“You okay?” she asked, filling a glass of water for me.
“Why did you tell me that?” I drank the water, leaning against the sink. My eyes wandered over her lean body again. Her arms were long and sinewy like her legs.
“I’m saving you the effort of trying to find a tape measure. From the way you’ve been staring at my legs, I figured you were curious.” Her eyes didn’t glance away from mine. She was calling me out for checking her out earlier. “I feel bad you choked and almost died. I didn’t think anything could shock you.”
“Talking about your inseam in front of my father? You didn’t think it would get a reaction out of me?”
“First, I said thirty-six inches. I could have been talking about a bookcase or changing table. Second, you were obviously checking me out in the dining room.” She held up three fingers. “Third, your reputation precedes you.”
“First, my reputation has nothing to do with you. Why would what I do and who I do it with matter to you? You’re my sister’s friend and none of my business.” From her frown, I could tell my tone sounded more defensive than I’d intended. I exhaled and then finished the glass of water. “So how are you, Idaho? Long time no see.”
She raised an eyebrow at me.
I held up my palms. “Let’s start over? I shouldn’t have been checking you out at my sister’s shower.”
Her eyes scanned over my chest and shoulders before making contact with me. “Okay. Fair enough. I shouldn’t have said the inseam thing in front of your dad.”
I snorted. “Ya think?”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Sorry.”
“No worries.” I stuck out my hand. “Fresh start?”
“Okay.” She met my grasp and shook hands. Her grip was strong and warm. “No more Idaho, right?”
I pulled my hand away. “Sorry. The name’s too good not to stick.”
“Great.” She exhaled.
“We should probably get in there. Lori might string us both up for missing out on a few oohs and aahs over adorable shit.”
“You’re a sweet brother for showing up today.”
“I didn’t have a choice. Mom would cut me off from Thanksgiving if I didn’t come to these things. Have you had her stuffing? No way am I missing out on her sausage stuffing.”
“You’re a simple man. I’m going to ignore any talk about your love of sausage stuffing.”
It sounded like it could be a put down, but since we’d declared a truce not five minutes ago, I’d let it slide.
“Don’t underestimate simple and straightforward, Ida—Hailey.” I cocked my head in the direction of the living room. “Shall we? We’re missing out on some good stuff from the sounds of it.”
She gave me a small smile and gestured for me to lead the way.
She joined my dad and me in the back row, and laughed at our inane questions about diaper containers and ointments. I glanced down at her finger and saw an engagement ring, but no wedding band. Part of me wanted to ask Lori what her situation was, but I knew that would be opening a giant can of pain-in-the-ass. Not that I was interested. I also knew better than to touch any of my sisters’ friends. Or cousins’ friends. Island was too small and this family was too big.
An hour later and I could finally make my escape. The Cougars were down in the third quarter. My mom grabbed some containers and filled them full of leftovers for the guys. Dad and I discussed the WSU season and how the Huskies looked pretty good, too. I even carried a load or two of baby gifts out to Lori’s car like a good brother.
Family duty finally over, I texted Ashley before pulling out of the driveway.
*You free later?*
A few seconds later a response chirped.
*Hi to you too. What did you have in mind?*
*Hi.* I hit send. *Your place around 9?*
I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel while I waited.
*9 is late for dinner.*
I smirked. *Who said anything about food?*
Her next response took longer. I hoped I hadn’t pissed her off. She knew the deal. Hang out, sex, hang out. Easy.
*Okay.*
I smiled. Easy.
RUN BY ANOTHER branch of the family, Donnely Boats had occupied this location on Holmes Harbor since the fifties. Custom boats and bigger contracts typically kept the company busy, but the boat business had slowed with the recession. At least a recent tugboat contract meant we’d be hiring new staff, including the random assortment of welders and pipefitters.
I could have moved up to management years ago, but I like welding and saw no reason to sit in an office all day dealing with other people’s bullshit and politics. As long as the new hires weren’t dumb-asses or incompetent jerks, we’d be fine. They probably wouldn’t be in my gang anyway. Being a Donnely had its perks. I got the pick of jobs and crew, but most of the time people left me alone to get my job done.
Monday morning, an assortment of trucks filled the spots closest to the office when I pulled into the lot at the boatyard. I squeezed my vintage Triumph Bonneville around them and
parked on a sliver of weeds and gravel on the far side of the building.
A fresh pot of coffee sputtered and steamed in the break room. I filled a Styrofoam cup with black coffee, no sugar. Alone for a few minutes, I sat at one of the round tables in an orange plastic chair and put my feet up. The local paper sat open to the police report where the typical small town crimes were reported. Sure, more serious stuff, like domestic violence and drugs, happened on the island, but we still had people calling the sheriff over their missing goat or an eagle’s nest on their property.
The sound of heavy boots and male voices carried down the hall. I glanced at the clock. Shift started in five minutes. I finished my coffee, smashed the cup in my hand, and folded the paper.
Time to play with fire and molten metal. Much better than sitting in front of a computer all day.
I worked for a few hours on the hull of the tug in dry-dock. With my helmet down and sparks flying, I got into the zone.
A few hours later, I took off my gloves, flipped up my visor, and hopped down to grab lunch. Ahead of me, a group of newbies walked on some sort of tour with Al, our HR manager.
“Hey, Al,” I called out to him. “These the new hires?”
Al stopped and the group of six guys with him halted, too. “You guessed it. I’ll introduce you.”
He told me a bunch of names I probably wouldn’t remember tomorrow. Most were journeyman, and had been around boatyards for years. They worked on a couple of projects and moved on to the next gig, always going after the better money. I honestly stopped paying attention after the second guy.
“And last, but not least, is King.”
King.
I wondered if Idaho had a brother. I couldn’t remember if she did or not. Maybe a younger one? I focused on where King stood at the end of the cluster of guys.
Well, I’ll be damned.
“What the hell?” I blurted. “Idaho?”
All eyes turned toward her. “Hey, Tom. Long time no see.”
The other guys snickered and I could tell they were probably thinking I was a sexist pig about women working around boats. I might have been a pig about other things, but it didn’t matter to me what you had in your pants if you worked hard and didn’t act like an asshole.
Confessions of a Reformed Tom Cat Page 2