I walk to my room, with not so much as a goodbye to Maguire, not for any other reason than I’m comfortable enough around him. We don’t need this formality; it further indicates the familiarity and ease of our relationship. Even when he’s challenging me and he’s a prick, there’s still a calmness between us.
In my room, I find my bikini right away. Surmising I need a little trim, I hop in the shower quickly. Looking down at my stomach, I wonder if this will be the last time I wear a bikini for a while. I don’t care—I have a baby growing in my belly and for the first time in weeks, the tears falling like the water in the shower are those of happiness.
With the lion under control, I pull on my light lavender polka-dotted swimsuit and my short shorts. Leaving for the pool, a couple catcalls are directed my way. I ignore them. There’s only one person I want to turn on and he’s no longer here. But, is this true, I wonder, thinking of another person who turns me on quickly with one up and down of his eyes.
I dive into the water, making my way to the surface, I turn to my back, floating for once, not a care in the world for about ten seconds. It’s the water and the bright sun making me forget everything. Splashes and movement in the pool alert me that people have jumped in, one too close to me and the baby I will protect with all I have.
Being on my back, I turn my entire body into the water. I stare over to the next person who’s jumped way too close to me and I move my head from side to side. I’m surrounded by three huge men. I’d typically classify them as cute, but in the here and now, they’re only pissing me off. I attempt to swim past one and his buddy and him block my path.
“Hey, honey,” the one man says and I again notice he’s a good-looking man. It doesn’t negate the fact that they were too close to jumping on me.
“Hey yourself, asswipe,” I return, trying a different direction when another buddy of his blocks my path. I move back to the center of the pool. “Listen, guys, I’m not your conquest today. As a matter of fact, you’ve just fucked with the wrong mama bear.”
“Oh, she’s feisty, this one,” one of the men swimming near me says.
“Yeah, and this feisty one, as you call it,” I pause, “is pregnant and you almost jumped on me.” I swim past them this time, my words paralyzing them. “So I suggest you leave me the fuck alone or you are going to get one angry man down here in about two minutes. And believe me, you don’t want to fuck with him. He’s as protective of this baby as I am—if not more.”
One of the men now has his eyes fixed on my wedding ring. He swims toward the stairs. “Sorry, little lady, we had no idea.” He looks at his little posse, whistling toward them. “Come on, guys, I don’t feel like dealing with an overprotective alpha male daddy today.” All three men grab towels and exit the pool. I smile and return to floating on my back.
I look out at the small little town and as I do, I have a view of the swimming pool. I’m about to admire my daughter-in-law in her skimpy swimsuit until my blood reaches an intensity of anger and rage. My pulse races and my heartbeat pounds. “What the fuck?” I’m out of the room, taking the stairs three at a time. I’m cracking my knuckles, barreling toward those three fuckers who have Holland surrounded in the pool. I’m limbering up my shoulders, about ready to take a fucker’s head off. I bypass the lobby and thunder toward the pool area. When I storm through the double doors, I’m met with Holland floating on her back.
I sit in a chair, close to the pool, summoning every calming molecule I can to emerge. If not, I’ll go from room to room looking for those men who thought they’d get a little piece of my daughter-in-law. She turns over, unaware I’m near her, swimming under the water, coming up the side near me. As her eyes adjust to the light, a little smile appears on her face.
“Well, this is a bit creepy. Are you going to sit there or are you coming in?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, I thought you needed me, but it’s obvious you can take care of yourself. By the way, you saved those guys’ lives—you know, right?” I ask.
“Yeah, I told them you’d be down here in a couple minutes, kicking ass if they continued. I guess I dabble in prophecy,” Holland deadpans.
“Or you understand I would do anything in this world to keep my promise.”
She nods with an all-knowing look. But there’s more. She doesn’t belong to anyone else and yet she doesn’t belong to me either. So why do I want to call her mine? It’s more. I want to do my best caveman impression, slinging her over my shoulder—never letting her go.
“Well, thanks for your concern, but as you already admitted, I can take care of myself.”
Her reply is snarky, clipped, and I’m not sure what to do with it.
“Since my services are no longer needed, I’m going to read for a bit.”
“Wait!” she cries after me. I twist my body around, hoping she’s about to ask me to stay. “You read?” she asks.
I’m not sure if I should be amused or insulted. “Yes, Holland, I’m an avid reader.” Now, with my own reply, I’m the one with a clipped tone. “Why does this surprise you?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “It doesn’t. Scott always had a book with him. He actually bought big jackets so the books would fit in his coat pockets.”
What the actual fuck? What more had I missed in my son’s life? “Scott was a reader?” I had him for a month twice a year and where I’d see him with a few books, I didn’t see him with many.
“Um, yeah. But it was something Scott started to embrace after high school. He was a poor student, but it wasn’t for his lack of trying. When he joined the Army, he realized he had some learning disabilities—dyslexia being one of them. When he found ways to compensate for it, he started reading a lot more. He’d always loved it, but it was too hard.”
I’m walking back to Holland, wanting and needing more. “I mean, I knew he struggled in school. Christine didn’t think he applied himself, yet, I always knew he was smart.”
“He was ashamed of his learning disabilities and shared it with no one but me.”
I pull out the chair and almost throw myself into it. “I missed out on so much of my son’s life. What books did he like? What did he like to read?”
She purses her lips. “I should know it by heart. He talked about this series all the time. I even tried to pick it up, but I’m not into sci-fi. It had something to do with Mars—Red something.”
“Red Rising by Pierce Brown?” I ask, my voice elevated.
“That’s it.” She smiles. “What, you know that book?”
“Yeah, I’m re-reading the series. The fourth book came out earlier this year and I’ve read it, but needed a re-cap,” I add, reeling from the fact that Scott loved to read—and the same books, too.
“Well, see it’s nature vs. nurture at its finest,” Holland adds, pushing herself off the wall, floating on her back again. And I’m left to think of all the conversations I lost out on. I’m sad, but he had so much of me in him and that gives me comfort.
Chapter 14
We’re in California. After driving for three days from Clarksville, we stayed in Amarillo then some small, and I mean, small-ass, town off the interstate in Arizona. At least now we’re in the right state. From Bakersfield, where we stayed last night, it’s a straight shot north until we make it to my place.
“Listen, darlin’,” I begin when Holland meets me in the truck, a pair of cut-off shorts and this amazingly tight purple tank top, matching the ends of her hair. She never dresses this provocatively and it’s eye-catching. “It’s about eight hours from here. We can break it up or just push through,” I suggest.
She smiles and I’m met with an evil, sinister look. I brace myself because I’m not sure what she’ll say. “Look, I love this truck of Scott’s so much, but if I spend one more fucking day in it, I’ll lose it.”
Cocking my head to the side, I begin, “Holland.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You don’t like the F-word coming from my
pretty lips.” Now she’s mocking me. “But you realize, Benedict Arnold, you’re a hypocrite. You say it like it’s as common as words like the or and. So…there’s that. Plus, I’m twenty-one years old and if I want to swear like a fucking sailor, I fucking will.” I give him a small smile through my little outburst.
“First off, you’re aware that Benedict Arnold was a traitor and not a hypocrite?” Her intense scowl lets me know I’ve messed with her on the wrong day, but I chuckle at her anyway.
She places her middle finger up in my face. “Well, I’m sure he was a fucking hypocrite, too, then.”
“Semantics aside, you’re too good for it.” I pause like I have more to say. Holland waits and I finally continue, “Anyway, I take it you just want to drive right through.” The motor is on and we are enjoying the air conditioning when my text alerts start chirping. I look down at the message, a mixture of emotions hitting me when I see who it is. “So?” I ask, ignoring the text when another one comes through.
“Yeah, let’s just get this trip over with,” she replies. She glances toward my phone, and another one comes through. “Who’s texting you and why are you ignoring it?”
“Um, just a friend wanting to know when I’ll be home,” I admit.
Her stare stays on me. “This many texts, I’d say it’s more than just a friend. I had no idea you had a girlfriend.” Her tone changes when she says the word girlfriend.
I’m quick to stop this conversation but also to halt her assumptions. “I don’t have a girlfriend, darlin’.”
When she doesn’t turn her head, but only her eyes, her reply is flat. “Okay, if you say so. But someone is pretty damn quick to be texting you first thing this morning.”
After eight days in this truck, close proximity and all that shit, I’ve realized Holland doesn’t do mornings. However, she’ll have to get up earlier than this when she starts work. “What are you gonna do when you begin work?” I ask. I hope she doesn’t notice I’m attempting to change the subject.
“Nice one, Sarge. First off, when I begin work, I won’t be stuck in this truck with you for days on end.” The little kid in her surfaces when she sticks her tongue out. She takes in a deep breath, pushing her loose curls from her face when her voice turns a little sterner. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. Seriously, who’s texting you at seven in the morning?”
Fuck, we aren’t even on the freeway and I’m attempting to stop this conversation. “It’s just a friend of mine, seeing if I need anything. Offered to bring in some groceries. Turn down the AC. Things like that.”
Her smile tightens, it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I see. And let me guess—this friend is a female.”
Well, hell, she’ll meet Kat once I get around to setting something up. Truth is, I have no desire to share what I once had with Kat, not now. Maybe not ever. It hasn’t ever been more than sex. I don’t answer and she continues, “So, this apartment you have above the garage. What’s it like?”
I haven’t told her about the condition of the apartment above my garage. “About that, Ned went out there last week to see what needs to be done to make it livable. I mean, I wasn’t planning on it being used for a couple more years.” She stiffens with this news I’d not been ready to give her. “He has contractors called. He’s set it all up, but it’ll take weeks before you can move in. So, until then, I’m going to put you in Scott’s old room.”
She bends down, picking up her purse to pop a Lemonhead into her mouth. “Let me get this straight, I’ll be living in your house until the apartment is fixed.” She tosses another yellow candy into her mouth and I nod my head in agreement. “And through this time, your friend, who is a girl, will be popping in and out of the house, for the benefits y’all have agreed upon?”
Now it’s my turn to stiffen. It’s something my son may have disclosed to his wife. Scott understood I didn’t do attachments. He’d often call my gals, not that I’ve had many, my friends with benefits. It’s something that didn’t bother me, my son knowing, after all, he was an adult when he put it together. But it irritates the fuck out of me for Holland to know.
“First off, darlin’, no one is going to pop in the house unless it’s Ned, my business partner and best friend. And he normally calls. And as for my friend, you don’t have to worry about overnight visits.” And why the hell am I explaining this to her, she’s not in the need to know.
I put the truck in gear, peeling out of the parking lot. Fuck, the last eight hours will be the longest.
Why does it bother me so much? Maguire having a girlfriend or fuck buddy shouldn’t get under the very core of my skin—but it does. And maybe it’s the secrecy. Listen to me whine. What business is it of mine? It’s not my business—one freaking bit. Yet, I’m making it mine.
My eyes are locked on the outside, anything but this truck and the incessant eighties rock that’s overtaking my brain. As “Welcome to the Jungle” fills the cab, a vein pulses at the side of my neck when my anger reaches a boiling point. I lean forward and push the button to stop Axl Rose’s voice.
“Certainly, darlin’, interrupt Axl—it’s not like I’m listening to him.” His pitch is so condescending. Why should I worry he’s porking some bimbo just to have sex? But I’m more pissed off than I should be.
“Oh, stop being a jerk for one second, I have something to say.”
He motions to the middle of the seat. “Well, the floor is all yours, say your piece.”
“Before you started acting like a jackass—it’s your house. You want to bring your friend who’s a girl into your home, it’s no skin off my back.”
A smile widens on his face.
“What did I say that’s so funny?” I question.
He shakes his head before he replies, “Well, thanks for giving me permission to have a playdate whenever I deem fit at my own house.”
I physically turn my body from him as he takes the next turn, pulling into a gas station. “Be a jerk, I don’t care. I was feeling bad for throwing a hissy fit earlier.” It’s so easy being upset with him right now. And I’m actually glad he’s a douche.
Slowing down the truck, I feel his finger gently poking my shoulder. “Darlin’, my house is yours. I’ll do anything to make you feel wanted, needed, and always a part of my family.” He’s out of the truck so fast. I’m no longer mad. His words are kind and I want to melt into them. Shitake mushrooms, it’s easier when he’s a monster prick and not the sweet man I grow closer to every day I’m with him.
I wake to “Summer of ‘69” when we hit a couple potholes. Taking in my surroundings, I notice we’re on a back road. It’s close to five p.m. “Where are we?” I must have been sleeping for three hours and my neck is tight. Moving my hands up to massage the sore muscles, he leans forward to turn the blaring voice of Bryan Adams off.
“Hey, darlin’.” He’s smiling, and the scruff on his face is intoxicating. “We’re about a mile from my house.”
I know nothing about his home. Scott still visited him after we were married, and he came by himself. He hated to be away from me, but I encouraged one-on-one time with his dad.
“We’re in the boondocks?” I question, getting acquainted with my new surroundings.
“Yeah, I like my space. My house is small, don’t need much but I have several acres. I’m not far from Shasta Lake.” The truck climbs up a small incline nestled in the hills. I take in all the green around me. In the south, all the grass turns to brown by this time of the year.
Winding up a small little hill, I get the first glance of my father-in-law’s estate. With as much land as my eyes can take in, it’s not just a house. We pull straight ahead into a large gravel driveway. His grass around his property is freshly mowed and trimmed. On one side of the driveway is a large garage, at least three times as big as his house. To the right is his much smaller house. He wasn’t joking about having a small home.
“Home sweet home, darlin’,” he croons, pulling up to th
e front deck. “I have never been so glad to see my house.” He’s out of the truck, a large golden retriever almost galloping toward him. I’m still in the cab taking in the peace and beauty of this place. It’s a retreat, a beautiful haven. No one will ever bug us here. It’s out of the way. I’m about to let myself out of the cab when a beautiful tall blonde emerges from the front door. There’s a smile on her face while she’s hugging Maguire when her eyes settle on me.
The open deck leads to the front with floor-to-ceiling windows. A deep wood frames the outside and the porch is fully covered, protecting everyone from the California sun. And although it’s a beautiful little bungalow, my eyes are fixed on the tall blonde pulling Maguire into her perfect little body.
I don’t see his facial features since his fine ass is facing me, but his entire body stiffens. This unknown woman whispers in his ear and he turns around, waving at me to meet his sex buddy. Opening the door, I slowly peel myself off the seat and bring my purse with me.
“Holland, I’d like you to meet my friend, Kat.” With the look on Kat’s face, she has not been expecting me.
“Oh, M, I had no idea your daughter-in-law was visiting.” Her voice is too perky, like her perky boobs. And I’m already calling bullshit on them being real. She’s too thin to sport those huge tits that are falling out of her tight pink tank top.
I don’t wait for “M” to reply. I hate that—stupid M, his name is Maguire and it’s a cool as hell name, why shorten it? “I’m not visiting. I’m moving here. Taking the apartment above the garage.” I extend my arm to shake her hand and she’s looking at “M” for a reaction.
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