by R. J. Sable
“It’s five in the afternoon, Matt,” I smirk. If Andrew was here, he’d never be okay with Matt taking a nap.
Napping is for toddlers and pensioners.
“It was only a couple of minutes,” he sulks and, to be honest, he does look exhausted.
“Are you alright?” I ask him hesitantly, sitting next to him on the bed. I very rarely get to spend any one-on-one time with Matt and I’m not sure if I’m crossing a line by asking him.
“Are you concerned about me, demongirl?” He chuckles. “And here I thought you didn’t like me very much.”
“You know that’s not true,” I frown at him. “I’m worried about you. You never seem to rest.”
“I’ll be fine, Elise,” he snaps.
“Don’t snap at me, you mardy muppet,” I growl back because he doesn’t get to speak to me like that when I’m just being nice.
He smirks and relaxes slightly, curiously more comfortable with aggression than affection. I relax as well because I’m used to Matt’s fluctuating temper by now.
“Where’s Karl?”
“Uncle’s house.”
He nods. “Just you and me then.”
“And the rest of the family.”
“Speaking of which, where’s your shadow?”
I grin because Jamie-Lea does follow me about a bit when I’m here but I don’t mind because she’s adorable and she likes to learn things. She’s great.
“Cooking again,” I grin and I can almost see him salivating. Her cooking has only gotten better with practice.
“What do you wanna do?” He yawns, stretching his arms over his head.
“Want to go kick the black and white ball thing around a bit?” I goad.
“You mean have a kick about?” He raises a sceptical eyebrow.
I nod and suppress my smirk. “Not for ninety minutes though.”
“You hate football.”
“I’m being nice to you,” I stress.
“You don’t do nice,” he laughs. “Not even with Karl.”
“I’m nice to him!” I protest but I know that the really nice moments between Karl and I are always private. We’ve been together almost six months and I don’t think anyone outside the family and friends group has figured it out.
“Well, you’re doing something right,” Matt grins, rolling ungracefully off the bed and grabbing a football from his cupboard. “Poor bastard isn’t right in the head when you’re around.”
“What do you mean by that?” I scowl, giving him a playful shove.
He grins and loops his arm round my shoulder, carrying the ball under the other as he walks us down the stairs. “Nothing,” he shrugs. “I just know when my best mate is happy and he’s happy even when you two are torturing each other. But whatever floats your boats, weirdos.”
He grins wickedly at this and ducks out of my way before I can make him eat his own football.
I know he’s trying to tell me he’s happy for me and Karl in his own screwed up way so I’m not really mad at him.
But it wouldn’t do to let him know that.
We borrow Jamie-Lea and Jake to play with whilst dinner bakes in the oven and we play girls against boys to start off but that proves wildly unfair because both Matt and Jake are pretty talented.
I’m sure I’d be good if it wasn’t so boring that I want to saw my own feet off just so I never have to play again.
We switch around and Matt and I play together because I think it would be good for the two youngest Carters to try playing on the same team. They could do with learning to get along.
Matt lights up when he’s playing football. I’ve seen it before when he plays with the guys at lunch or in P.E. but, now that we’re playing together, I can really see the difference.
The smile he wears is the same smile he had as a boy. Not the cheesy one he puts on like a mask when we’re at school.
I’ve worn a mask before. I know how to spot them.
By the time Karl and Andrew get back, Matt almost seems carefree and he even gives Jamie a hug and carries her into the house on his hip ready for dinner.
When the food has been demolished, the three of us have the den to ourselves because the twins are grounded for the weekend, which means they have to be in their rooms from eight pm onwards.
Ms Stoner caught them selling chocolates and sweets on school property and had to call Andrew.
He was not happy.
Ian is helping Andrew, and Craig is helping Jamie-Lea and Jake with their homework in the kitchen.
“How’d it go at Uncle Eric’s?” Matt prompts, his eyes on the screen even though I know he’ll give Karl his full attention.
“Chaos as usual,” Karl grins. Their uncle Eric has four children, all slightly older but they cause just as much noise as their cousins despite being fewer.
Matt nods. “You missed Elise trying to be nice to me.” He smirks at me before returning his attention to the screen.
“I won’t bother in future,” I grumble.
“You could be nice to me instead?” Karl suggests, tucking me further into his side.
“You have to earn it.”
“I gave you a Wagon Wheel yesterday,” he reminds me.
He’s right, but he also ate half of it. I remind him of this with a sarcastic cock of my head.
“I was hungry, woman!”
“Then get your own Wagon Wheel.”
“Why would I get my own when I can get yours?”
“Enough,” Matt laughs. “You’re like an old married couple.”
Karl just smirks and tugs gently at my necklace like he thinks that’s a good thing.
“I know that’s not true though,” Matt continues. “If you were married, you’d at least be getting laid.”
I grimace because Matt usually doesn’t talk about this. I’m not sure if he knows Karl is a virgin but with them being as close as they are, I suspect he does.
Karl doesn’t even seem fazed; he just punches Matt lightly in the arm and smirks. “Everything’s not about sex, mate. If you found the right girl, you’d realise that.”
“Least we raised one of you boys right,” Andrew remarks, joining us in the den. I guess that’s where Ian inherits his stealth from.
“Thanks, Dad,” Karl laughs even though I’m thoroughly mortified that we’re having this conversation.
“We’re over sixteen, it’s not like I’m breaking any laws,” Matt shrugs.
“It’s legal to punch yourself in the face, doesn’t mean you should, or that it’s smart,” Karl answers back before I get there.
I was going to warn him that his junk would fall off if he kept sticking it in skanks like Shelly but whatever.
“In this house, the law is eighteen and only if you’ve been courting for a year,” Andrew narrows his eyes at Matt.
“So none of you are allowed,” I smirk at Matt.
“Not in the house at least,” Matt grumbles under his breath.
“I heard that,” Andrew’s lips narrow to a thin line. “If I catch you with a girl, you’ll be running laps round the house for a year.”
“Yes, sir,” Matt nods but I can already see him planning his next hook-up.
Andrew doesn’t look convinced either and he sighs and sits down on the sofa opposite us.
“Love and sex are two very different things,” he begins.
“Dad!” Karl groans. “Don’t do this with Elise here.” He shoots me an apologetic glance and I know he can tell how uncomfortable I am.
“She should hear it too,” Andrew dismisses Karl’s protests with a wave of his hand. “You can have sex as many times as you want, with as many people as you want, but all of it will be meaningless until you share the experience with somebody who you actually love.
And when you do, you’ll regret cheaping on the experience by not waiting for that person to come along.”
I’ve kept my eyes firmly on my knees for the whole conversation and I’m not looking up now. I can feel Karl’s frustration a
t his father and I know it’s not because he’s ungrateful. It’s because he hates it when I’m not happy.
“Dad,” Karl grits. “Enough.”
“Alright,” Andrew sighs. “I’ve said my bit. I know you’ll probably ignore me anyway.”
This is definitely aimed at Matt.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Elise,” Andrew says, his voice lower.
I look up and meet his eyes at this and I know he’s remembering what I went though. His jaw sets and he nods before strolling out of the room.
Getting “the talk” from a parent is mortifying but it’s definitely worse to get it from somebody else’s.
“We need to start keeping track of how many times he tells us that,” Matt chuckles, glancing sideways at me.
He can probably see the look on my face and I know by now that he’s aware that I have my secrets and this is his way of subtly deflecting from my awkwardness.
“We still on for tomorrow, mate?” He prompts, looking past me to Karl, whose attention is solely on trying to rub some of the tension out of my shoulders.
I hate that even thinking about sex makes me sick to my stomach. I hate that, despite the fact that I have Karl, I’m still left feeling broken because of what somebody else did to me.
I hate that I’m not strong enough to stop hating it.
“You’re perfect to me,” Karl whispers in my ear. He’s so in tune with me that he knows exactly where my brain is at. That’s exactly what I was thinking; that I was too broken, too flawed, too imperfect.
“Tomorrow?” Karl looks up at Matt once he’s sure that my breathing has evened out. “Oh yeah, of course, mate. You know you don’t need to ask.”
“What’s happening tomorrow?” I ask in an attempt to shake off the bitterness that’s permeating my bones.
I glance up and see an uneasy look pass between the two of them. It’s then I realise that Matt was just trying to make conversation to make me feel more comfortable and I’ve just flipped the tables and made him feel awkward because tomorrow is one of the Saturdays where the two of them disappear off for a few hours.
“I have to nip round to my mum’s,” Matt says in what sounds like a surprisingly neutral tone. His jaw is set and his eyes are jet black so I can tell he’s not happy, no matter what he sounds like.
“Oh,” I say, because that’s totally not what I was expecting.
With them being so secretive about it, I’d almost expected something sinister or borderline illegal. I know enough to know that Matt doesn’t come from a good home and I understand why he doesn’t look happy about going back there.
I want to ask why but it’s none of my business so I just nod and pretend to watch the TV.
I still feel a little bit shaken by the conversation with Andrew so I do something uncharacteristic and lift myself onto Karl’s lap.
He must be surprised but he hides it well and just hooks his arm round my waist as I settle sideways into his chest. I’m still not in his fan club but he makes me feel stronger when my insecurities come to call and I need to be close to him.
Matt smirks when he sees what I’m doing but he doesn’t say anything.
Karl subtly kisses the top of my head and I let his scent overwhelm my senses as my heartbeat slows to match his.
“Can I have a cuddle too?” Jamie’s hopeful voice causes my eyes to open to see her standing in front of me with Craig’s hands on her shoulders.
“Who do you want a cuddle from, sweetie?” I ask her fondly.
She looks contemplative, like she hadn’t really considered that she has a choice. She looks around at each of us and then her eyes settle on Craig and she smiles up at him.
He smiles softly back and picks her up. She squeezes him round the neck and beams at me over his shoulder. I wink back because she looks so happy.
“Probably time to take her to bed, Craig,” Karl says.
His breath tickles my hair and it makes me strangely sleepy. I wish, not for the first time, that we could spend the night together again because I miss being surrounded by his warmth and wrapped up in his unique smell.
“But it’s the weekend,” Jamie pouts.
“And it’s nine o’clock,” Karl says in that stern voice that rarely ever works on me but seems quite effective on his little sister.
Her bottom lip just out slightly and, honestly, if it was up to me I’d let her stay up all night just because of that but Karl seems to have developed an immunity to her cuteness.
“Jamie,” Craig whispers, tugging on her hand gently.
“Please, Karl,” Jamie pleads. “Can’t I just stay up for half an hour more?”
“Dad set your bed time,” Karl answers without empathy. “Go ask him.”
Jamie looks discouraged by the idea so I slide off the sofa and kneel in front of her.
“How come you don’t want to go to bed now?” I ask.
She chews on her bottom lip before answering. “I’m not sleepy.”
“How about we go talk to your dad together?” I offer.
Her dainty eyebrows knit together as she mulls it over and then she nods and offers me her hand. I grin and accept, leading the way towards the lounge where I suspect Andrew will be finishing repainting the skirting boards with Ian.
Karl offers me a sarcastic look that tells me Jamie-Lea isn’t getting her bedtime extended and I stick my tongue out at him.
When Craig realises he’d be left in the room with Karl and Matt, he scarpers after us.
Andrew looks up briefly from his painting as we enter the room, offers a small smile, and then he returns to his work.
“What’s up Jamie-Lea?” Ian prompts, setting down his paintbrush.
I nudge her forwards gently and move my hand to her shoulder. I’m not sure if she’s shy or she doesn’t want to get in trouble but she doesn’t talk very much.
She looks at Ian and then at her Dad and Ian calls out to Andrew and motions to his little sister, seemingly understanding what Jamie wants with just a look.
“What’s up, little one?” Andrew smiles, setting down his paintbrush and lifting Jamie onto his knee.
She beams and wraps her arms around his neck and I get front row tickets to the way Andrew’s face softens upon seeing his daughter happy. The pain that he always carries seems to lesson slightly as he gives his youngest child his full attention.
“Daddy, could I please stay up for just half an hour more?” She asks with her voice surprisingly steady and her chin jutted out slightly as though she’s proud of herself for being so bold.
Andrew’s lips tilt upwards ever so slightly and I can tell he’s a little impressed by it as well.
“Would it be fair if I let you stay up half an hour later and not everyone else?” Andrew cocks his head at Jamie.
She shakes her head immediately.
“So you think they should all get half an hour extra bedtime as well?”
Jamie nods, albeit less confidently.
“There are eight of you, nine if we count Elise – and we probably should because I’m starting to think she’s moved in,” he turns and winks at me.
I grin back because I know he thinks it’s a good thing. Everybody is always welcome at the Carter house.
“That’s four and a half hours if we add it all together.”
Jamie’s shoulders sag like she just realised she isn’t going to get her way.
“How about this,” Andrew chuckles, gently tapping her on the nose. “You can go to bed, but you don’t have to turn your lights out for half an hour. Maybe you could get one of your big brothers to read you a story?”
Jamie nods enthusiastically, her face brightening again and I suspect that Andrew only made the slight concession because he’s not entirely immune to her cuteness.
“Alright,” Andrew smiles, setting Jamie down on the floor again. “No trying this stuff on Granddad or Ian when I go away.”
“I wish you didn’t have to go, daddy,” Jamie sobers again.
She nods dutifully.
“Remember why I have to go?”
“Because you have to make sure other boys and girls are safe and happy like we are. That they can go to school and have food and things.”
Andrew nods and smiles down at her. “But you know I love you all very much and I’ll miss you while I’m gone.”
“I love you too, daddy,” Jamie smiles and I catch Ian smiling out of the corner of my eye. It’s not his usual smug smirk.
It’s one of affection and pride for his sister and father and I can hardly blame him.
I feel the same.
Chapter 31
If there’s such a thing as organised chaos, then this might be it. And it’s all Ian’s fault.
It was his eighteenth birthday the other day and he celebrated with his friends and older cousins who were kind enough to ensure he spent his second day as an adult with a near comatose-inducing hangover.
Since none of the others could join in on the adults-only celebration, Ian decided we would have a day of fun for the rest of the family today.
I helped him set up the festivities with Karl and Matt and now I’m standing to the side and observing the chaos.
We filled what must have been over a hundred water bombs, lined the garden with thick plastic sheets, spread out the garden hose, and created our own water park.
With Andrew on deployment, a couple of the Carter cousins are helping out by barbecuing burgers for everyone and refilling the constantly dwindling supply of water bombs. Uncle Eric and Granddad Carter are keeping safely out of the way on the patio.
“Your socks are wet,” Karl whispers in my ear, hooking his arm around my waist and pulling me backwards into him.
The best thing about Ian’s idea is that it’s summer and it’s hot and Karl is therefore wearing only his shorts and boxers. He’s not even wearing socks and shoes.
He’s semi-naked, dripping wet, and yes… I’m going to say it.
He looks even better than a Wagon Wheel.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he growls, squeezing me slightly and I grin because I can feel the effect it’s having.
I know now to take it as a compliment, and perhaps as a tribute to Karl’s self-restraint. After all this time, he’s never once managed to make me feel uncomfortable, nor has he pressured me.