“I was walking to school so your dad didn’t have to see me again. I’m keeping clear of him if I can,” she said.
He ran the back of his hand down her cheek and then along her hair. Heat flashed through her, and she hoped she could keep from having embarrassing physical reactions their parents could see.
She rested her cheek on his chest. “What should I do? Tell me, and I’ll do it, because so far I’m doing it all wrong and making your family upset.” Her palm rested on his upper abs. She caressed that spot and inhaled. He smelled wonderful.
“Be yourself. I’ll deal with it. He’s my dad.” His fingers tickled at the back of her neck, under her hair.
“We need to talk,” his dad said, approaching them with her mom at his side.
Adam turned to him and held Mari in a protective way. “There’s nothing to discuss. We love each other, and I want to marry her this weekend.”
Mari stiffened, and her breath hitched. She tried to swallow, but her throat seized up on her.
Both their parents’ jaws unhinged. “Why is she rushing you?” his dad asked.
“She’s not. It’s me. It’s all me. Stop blaming her. She wants to wait until we’ve graduated and until you like her. But I can’t wait that long. She won’t touch me or have sex with me until we’ve both fully committed to each other in front of our family. So—marrying as soon as possible is the answer.”
Mari’s face and neck heated.
“Is this true?” her mom questioned, her eyes wider than Mari’d ever seen.
“Yeah. I love how innocent he is. I don’t want to change or ruin him,” Mari answered.
Dustin’s eyes scrunched, and his arms went across his chest. “I don’t care . . . That’s not a reason to get married. Sex isn’t what makes a marriage.”
“What does, then? Love isn’t enough for you? Compatibility? Soul mates? Best friends? A deep concern for each other’s welfare and being unable to imagine wanting to ever be with anyone else for the rest of my life? Do any of those things matter and make a marriage to you? Because that’s what I have with her!” Adam pulled her in tighter and gave her a peck on the forehead while keeping his eyes on his dad. “You can’t tell me no on this one. I’m twenty-one—she’s eighteen. We’ll leave and make it on our own. It’s up to you if you want to help us start out with less difficulty.” His voice hung in the air like a lasting echo that never seemed to fade.
His father hovered there like he was in stasis, failing to even blink. He released a breath a moment later. “I don’t know what you want me to say . . .”
“Say you trust me to follow my heart and to know what I’m doing,” Adam said in a rush of a breath.
“I can’t say that, because based on your past, you don’t know who to trust. You’re the king of allowing hurtful people into your life and letting them control you.” His dad’s arms unwound, and his hands tucked into his pockets.
“What has Mari done to earn your distrust?” Adam waited like he had a million years at his disposal.
“She knows what she’s done,” his dad replied.
“Yeah, and for once, I told the truth, because I respect you. I never lied.” She tucked her arm around Adam’s waist. It made her feel safe.
“She’s a liar,” her mom said.
“Not anymore. Adam and I have vowed to never lie again,” Mari said, her tone clear, though inside she was breaking apart.
“This weekend—married—we’re doing it,” Adam repeated his stance.
“Don’t do this, son,” his dad begged.
“No, you don’t do this!” Adam growled. “Stop getting in the way of my happiness and my life. If you banish her, I’ll never stop looking for her until I find her. We’re bound to each other. We have to be together. That’s what our love means.”
Her mom’s face drained of color. “That’s what a psychotic relationship is.” She turned her gaze on Mari. “You never told me it was like this. I can see now what’s happened. He can’t do this to you.” She reached out again. “Come home. I’ll keep you safe from him. We’ll switch you to another school, even move if that’s what it takes. I won’t let him stalk you. I’ll get a restraining order if we have to!”
“What?” Mari cried. She licked her lips. “Mom, this is by far the stupidest thing you’ve ever thought or said. He hasn’t coerced me into anything. I follow him as much as he follows me, because we get each other. Adam’s helped me see how right we are for each other. I’m so blessed to have found him. My life would’ve forever remained in the dark if it wasn’t for him. He was the light, shining in my dark cave, helping me find the way out.”
Her mom chuckled. “You always were overly dramatic. Give me a break! Light in your cave? Are you a bear that’s been hibernating?” She turned to look around, probably making sure nobody else was hearing what she thought amounted to absurdity.
“You think I care if you like my analogy or not? Adam’s right . . . I thought we should wait to get married, that things would smooth over, but I was wrong. I can see that now. Neither of you are ever going to accept what we have, and who we are.” Mari moved to her tippy toes and kissed Adam’s lips. “We can get married whenever you want, sweetie,” she told Adam.
“We can?” Adam’s voice shook, and his eyes twitched, ready to fill with water.
“We can. And we can live wherever you want,” she added.
His eyes were so luminous and joyful, it about busted her heart right open. She didn’t see how it could be possible to love him more, but she did. In that moment it filled her entire heart, soul and body.
“I love you. You know that, right?” She smiled, and her eyes crinkled.
“I do. And I love you. You’ll have sex with me now?” His eyes were hopeful.
“Say I do and give me a ring, and, yes, that’s exactly what will happen,” she said with a humoring chuckle.
He turned back to their parents. “See? You can’t stop this.” His eyes roamed from his dad to her mom. “Ma’am, I’d love to have your blessing, but if not, then I’ll make do without. Do I have your permission to marry your daughter?”
Her mom stiffened. “Yeeeeesssss?” She sounded unconvinced and kind of confused.
“Wonderful! Can we use your old wedding ring?” He gave her an expectant look.
“I d-don’t kn—” Her mom’s face twisted, but when she saw Mari glaring at her, she said, “I guess so—yeah.”
“Even better. Dad, can I have your blessing, too?” Adam asked.
“I don’t think so. This is such a train wreck, there’s no way I can condone any of this,” his dad answered.
“Fine. We’ll do it all without you. I’ve got my car—I’ve got some money. I’m going home right now, I’ll pack up and go to school, but I won’t be coming home afterward.” Adam took Mari’s hand and started walking back in the direction of his home.
“Wait . . . Just wait,” his dad said, voice faint.
“Why should I?” Adam kept walking, dragging her along.
“You can stay if you wait until at least the spring before marrying. Get closer to the end of school at least. And if you manage to graduate, I’ll pay for your honeymoon,” his dad offered.
Mari about fell, because the ground had to be shaking—Dustin was bending a little, and that only happened when the world was ending.
Chapter 20
Mari woke to Adam in her bed, his arms around her. It was suffocating at first because she was alarmed, but once his soft breath pelted her neck, she surrendered into the mattress, and into him.
Today they were going to visit Dr. Harkham.
She had some assurances too from his dad that she could stay longer than their original agreement of a week.
That made her feel a little better, but she still intended to avoid that gruff man and get a job.
Rather than wake Adam and remove him from her room, she slipped out of his arms, got fully dressed this time, then padded downstairs to the kitchen.
Samara was sin
ging to herself and making something on the stove.
“Whatcha makin’?” Mari asked, her voice gravelly with sleep.
“French toast . . . Want some?” Samara glanced over her shoulder and smiled.
“Sure. Sounds great.” After she said it, she realized what she’d accepted—food from Dustin’s wallet, rather than her own food she’d purchased. Not a good way to start the day.
“Good morning, ladies,” Dustin’s voice echoed as he stepped into the room.
Mari immediately snapped to attention and shoved herself up against the wall by the table, out of his way.
“Morning, sir,” Mari said, frozen in place, unsure of what else to do.
“Don’t call me that. I’m not a drill Sergeant and not that gray,” he said, chuckling.
He was laughing? Not at her, was he?
Her mouth went dry. What else could she say?
He turned to her. “Sit. We’ll eat together in a minute, but from now on, either call me Dustin or Dusty.”
“Oooo-kay,” she whispered to herself and slunk into a chair.
“I’ve talked to your mother some more since I last met her . . . Interesting lady,” he commented as he got himself a cup of coffee.
Had Samara made it for him? Was this how a real family was? They helped each other out without being cajoled or guilted into it?
She watched his every movement, and Samara’s too, with great fascination. How could she find her groove here and fit in?
“Oh no . . . What did she do now?” Mari grumbled.
“She thinks she’s entitled to some kind of custody compensation,” he said, smiling like it was hilarious.
“What? Are you serious? She’s really lost it then,” Mari said, smacking her hand on her leg. Shit. He probably thought this was how Mari was, too—trying to squeeze money out of others people’s wallets for her own personal gain.
“That’s kind of what I was thinking. I said, ‘Listen, lady, you’re not my ex-wife, and she’s not my daughter yet. I don’t owe you anything. Besides, Mari’s eighteen.’ Then I listened to her bitch about how Will, your dad, never paid child support. She seemed to think I was the answer to her back pay. It was quite fun to listen to, even if she was deadly serious and completely out of her mind.” He wore an amused grin.
She hung her head and shook it in tiny motions. Her gut roiled. Suddenly, French toast sounded like eating gravel covered in slime like that day she’d vomited in the Y’s parking lot.
“I explained to her I had three hungry teenage kids I was feeding, and that wasn’t cheap. She snorted—said I was rich and could handle one more, and that you barely ate anything since you’re overly concerned about being a waif. I told her she wasn’t very well informed, because you’d stopped obsessing about your weight. She called me a nasty name, then said I was a liar and hung up. She might try to take you back again and claim this was all my doing. So, here’s your warning.” Dustin stirred in his sugar and then the cream he’d gotten from the fridge.
“Should I leave? Are you saying I’m burdening you with my imbalanced mother?” Mari choked on her words.
Samara slid a plate of food in front of her. Mari gave a brief acknowledgment with a word of gratitude.
If her mother could see what she was about to eat, she’d have a coronary.
This was exactly the food Mari had avoided for over a year. Sugar, white flour, and oh so delectable with its crunchy goodness.
Her stomach snarled, so she cut into it and took a bite. If he kicked her out, at least she’d have a full stomach and be buzzing from sugar.
“It’s up to you if you want to leave or not. I said you could stay, and she knows you’re welcome here now.” He took a seat across from her.
Samara jumped like he had snapped his fingers and set his food in front him in the next blink.
“Thanks,” he said and told her to sit down and join them.
Mari’s throat constricted. The two people in the house that regarded her as a pariah were eating with her. She could barely do that with her dad in that one sad occasion during her last visit, and never with her mom.
Swallowing as they watched her was like pushing cut shards of glass down her throat. It stung. She coughed a little, and Samara jumped up, getting her a glass of orange juice.
Mari swallowed it gratefully and realized this was another food item she had blocked out for months.
It tasted like nectar—juicy salvation. She gulped it down, or started to, until she realized Adam had manners. He’d learned them probably from this man sitting before her now. She slowed it down, wiped her mouth with her hand when she set the drink down.
Samara silently handed her a napkin.
“Now . . .” Dustin began. “We can all be civil, right?”
Mari nodded and sat straighter, partly to get as much distance from him as she could in case he was tricking her, but also because her legs were bouncing and itching to run away.
“Are you really going to let her stay here indefinitely?” Samara asked.
He set his mug down with a heavy thud. “Why? Are you questioning my competency as your father?”
“No, I . . . I just thought if she’s staying for good, you might want to move her to a different room. She’s got that adjoining bathroom to Adam’s room. Why do you think he was so excited to have her in there? And why do you think he didn’t sleep in his bed last night?”
“We didn’t have sex.” Adam’s voice carried from behind them. He dragged himself in, yawned and stretched. “She didn’t even realize I was there until she woke up this morning. And then I think she ran away. I didn’t like that part much.” He scratched his chest.
“Yes, a room move is a good idea,” Dustin said and swung around to look at his son. “I’ll let you keep your room, but she’s trading with Zach. No more of this midnight sneaking into her bed.”
“Why? She won’t let me really sleep with her, so what’s the problem?” Adam’s voice was testy. “She’s really good at sticking to rules, just like she was with eating healthy food.”
“Doesn’t mean she won’t change her mind,” his dad said.
Mari was lacking any kind of coherent response, because he was probably right.
“Fine, but I want to be here for all meals. If she’s at the table, then I want to be here, too. I have to hear what you guys are saying to her.” Adam grabbed himself a plate and filled it with three slices of French toast, slathered them with butter and some special sugar-free syrup, then was at her side.
It did not escape Mari’s notice that Samara hadn’t served her brother.
Would Mari ever understand how this family functioned?
They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Was she the only one that felt guilty for eating her breakfast with regular syrup while Adam had to settle for artificial stuff? How was that okay? And artificial sweeteners had their own impact on health as well.
Mari had always told herself she’d rather die from being fat than from tumors due to artificial sweeteners. Plus, real sugar tasted so much better and didn’t have that nasty aftertaste she abhorred.
When Dustin’s plate was empty, he said, “You two.” He motioned to Mari and Adam. “Come home straight after school today. No hanging out or anything like that. We’re seeing Dr. Harkham today. And don’t you forget, Son, we moved here specifically to be closer to her. When she moved her practice here, we followed. It’s the real reason we’re here in this broiling oven called Phoenix.” He frowned, stood up and towered over them for a second. When he was done making Mari feel petrified, he put his cup and plate in the dishwasher and left.
“Goodbye, Dusty.” Mari tried it on. Didn’t quite feel right. In fact, it felt so far removed from right, it felt almost terrifying.
It fit worse than her mother’s ring she still couldn’t get off—tight and uncomfortable.
“You can call him Dad. That’s what he’ll be when we get married,” Adam suggested.
“Yeah, I’ll do that when I
want him to nail a dead rodent to my forehead for being a piece of gutter-trash.” Mari nudged him with her leg. “Give me a hug?”
“I thought you needed one,” he said and swallowed her frame up in his much bigger, much more comforting one.
They left for school with her clinging to him, holding his hand like she would die without it.
It was going to be a long day . . . Thank God she had him.
* * *
Dr. Harkham looked at Mari like she was waiting for her to say something.
“Is it okay that I’m here, Dr. Harkham?” Mari asked, settling her clasped hands in her lap. She smiled to herself. Reminded her of the first day in class when Samara told him to hold his own hand. Oddly, it was comforting. There was something to the simple little act.
“It’s not up to me who Adam brings to his visits. He gets to decide,” Harkham replied. She set her glasses aside. “But before we really begin, I want you to call me Amelia instead of Dr. It sounds so impersonal, and even Adam, with all his flawless manners, doesn’t call me that.”
Mari made a face. “Really?” She couldn’t imagine him being that informal. “Okay . . . Sure, I can call you that.” Why not? She was already calling Adam’s father Dusty. Ick! Still made her wiggle with discomfort.
“Great. Do you mind if I explain a few things to you before we get started?” Amelia asked.
An unsettled feeling shifted through Mari. “This sounds like the beginnings of an interrogation. Does this mean you’re going to share everything I say with his father?” She tightened her fingers together as her stomach churned a little.
“Everything’s confidential. I’ll only share it with Adam if you give me the okay, but his father doesn’t have to know anything we talk about, regardless of how I feel about him.” Amelia cleared her throat.
What did she say? Sounded like Amelia was interested in Adam’s dad. “I’m sorry, but, how you feel about him? What does that mean?” Mari shifted in her seat.
“I’ve known Dustin for years, and we’ve been good friends. I’ve helped him with his son as a direct favor to him. My specialty didn’t used to be autistic kids, but has shifted in that direction because of my work with Adam,” Amelia explained. She fingered the rim of her glasses and stared at them wistfully. “Dustin’s a great man—a man I greatly respect. His wife was a good friend, too. I have to say I wasn’t sorry to see her go, though . . .”
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