by Knox, Abby
I listen half-heartedly as I consider with dread everything that will play out this afternoon.
I have a girlfriend, a volunteer commitment, and a child with a high drama dynamic with his grandmother. And I’m starting to think this is too much for old Vince.
New Vince, however, will not give up any of it.
21
Vince
I’m told to bring Max to the main DSS office, where they have a large play area, a neutral spot where kids can mess around with toys and relatives don’t loom over them intimidatingly.
The supervising DSS worker is May, who is unfortunately no fan of mine. “Hello, Vincent,” she says with a curt nod when I walk Max inside.
“He can’t be here,” says a smoky voice from across the room.
I turn to look and it’s Max’s grandmother, the one whose boyfriend had locked Max in a closet.
May isn’t thrilled that I’m here either, by the look on her face, but she corrects the grandmother. “Max requested that he stay and the case manager approved it. But don’t worry, things are not going to get confrontational, are they, Vincent?”
Why the fuck would she ask me that right in front of Max? My protective hackles are up, but I answer the way she wants. I only want everything to go smoothly, for Max’s sake. “Of course not. I’m here to support Max.”
“I’ll bet you are,” sneers the grandmother, gesturing Max to come to her for a hug. “Baby, I missed you so much. You look tan. Have you been playing outside without sunscreen? Tell them you need sunscreen or you’re going to get cancer.”
I grit my teeth. That’s one rich statement coming from the chain-smoking grandma who barely ever let the poor kid enjoy sunshine.
Max curls into my leg and he won’t let go. “It’s OK, Max. I’m not leaving without you. We’re only here for a short while to say hello to your grandma.”
Max shakes his head, his dark curls swishing against my pant leg. I look up at May but she’s disinterested, mainly perusing the contents of a file folder.
When Max flat out refuses to cooperate, the grandmother becomes irate. “Tell me something. Why would a single, grown man want to take someone’s baby? I cannot believe the system would allow that. And a violent man at that.”
May looks up and rolls her eyes. I look at her and remember my court-ordered counseling. “May, I’m not going to engage, but you’re welcome to explain it.”
May sighs heavily. “The DA dropped the assault charges against Mr. Cole for the first time offense. As to your other question, I’m not going to postulate.”
“Somebody’s in somebody’s pocket,” the grandmother says. “Break my boyfriend’s nose and then come out smelling like a rose and take our baby on top of it. I tell you, someone is getting paid off. And god knows what that weirdo is doing with my Max.”
I’m ready to put my fist through a wall. May sees the look on my face and speaks up.
“Tammy, as long as you are meeting the conditions laid out for you, you will eventually be reunited with Max. It says here you attended a parenting class and counseling. That’s good. Let’s focus on your goals and not on Mr. Cole, OK? Why don’t you ask Max what he’s been up to since you last saw him?”
May tries, I try, but nothing improves for the rest of the visit. In fact, it only gets worse. The woman accuses me of terrible things I can’t possibly fathom. I can’t believe the things some people will talk about in front of kids.
This is why I’m such an asshole. Other adults have made me into the asshole I am today. Adults like this one. And then she shows her ass.
“Earl told me you had an overnight visitor last night. He watched her go in and then leave in the morning. He saw everything,” she spits out.
I expect May to turn on me because, technically, Max is not supposed to be in the same place as overnight visitors who are not vetted by the DSS.
I admit to May, “Max was at a sleepover with Barry, who is an approved foster respite volunteer.” To Tammy, who I’m not supposed to address, I ask, “Did Earl tell you that?”
She scowls at me, but then May rounds on her. “Part of the conditions for you to regain custody of Max required that you not continue to reside with the abuser in this case. Has Earl moved out?”
“Yes,” Tammy says, defensively. “He moved out when your people carted him off to jail.”
“And how long after you posted bail did he move back in?”
She clams up. She knows we know she’s still involved with Max’s abuser.
The visit ends quickly after that, and although Max had next to no interaction with his grandmother, he acts out the rest of the evening and it takes all week long to “reset” his behavior. I can’t drop him off at school in the mornings without him crying.
The drama is so constant that I nearly forget about meeting with the set building crew at Greenbridge on Friday night.
22
Jewel
I’ve gathered up all the plans for the set building and have them spread out on the table on the stage where Vince and the rest of the crew are gathered after school on Friday.
“So, as you can see, the gazebo has to fold this way and turn into the bedroom for the ‘Favorite Things’ number, and these plans over here show you how the grand staircase turns around to become the hillside, which is quite useful for a whole lot of the scenes. It’s really very clever and we’re so lucky this all came with the kit I ordered…”
All the students are chattering and excitedly asking questions. Vince is glaring at me.
Well, that’s fine. We have plenty to talk about later.
I continue. “Hunter Rydell is sewing all the costumes but she will need some help. Fortunately, we won’t be sewing actual curtains into children’s clothing. Haha!” None of them finds this nearly as funny as I do.
After I think I have the crew all informed of the materials and schedules, I hop off to have another look at my cast list. I need to make sure I’ve made all the right decisions before I post it online.
I’ve cast Max as the second-youngest Von Trapp kid, hoping it will help him make friends and fit in here. I consider whether it’s favoritism, but remind myself I would do the same for any kid who was struggling because of his particular circumstances. I’m working on uploading the list to the school website via my laptop, but it’s not cooperating. Then I remember that the WiFi went down last night in a thunderstorm. I didn’t want to do it this way, but I’ll have to go pin it to the bulletin board, as everyone will be expecting to see it in the morning.
Vince tags along, leaving the building crew to their own devices when I ask him to join me.
“You’ve got about twelve kids working on sets. I don’t think you actually need me,” he grumbles.
“You’re essential to the work because you have nice strong shoulders,” I point out as I lead him down the hall.
“I do have nice strong shoulders.”
I like it when Vince knows how to accept a compliment. “Oooh, how strong are they?”
“Strong enough to balance your sweet thighs while I make a meal out of you.”
I gasp audibly once I work out that visual in my head. My body likes the dirty talking Vince even better than regular Vince.
“Did you just get wet?” he growls when we reach the main hallway.
I can’t believe we’re doing dirty talk at school.
“Yeah, yeah I did. That’s a nice image.”
He pulls me to a stop next to the bulletin board and backs me against the cold stone wall. He kisses my lips sweetly. “You like that visual?”
I kiss him back. “I do. I can’t wait to try that move.” He moves his lips down to my throat. “Am I up against a wall in that scenario?”
He kisses the spot between my collarbones. ‘Mm…wall not necessary.”
I grip his face and kiss him some more. “We’re gonna need that wall.”
Another kiss, and another.
“Oh yeah, why’s that?” he asks.
I k
iss him yet again and he kisses me back. “Because once I start bucking, I’m likely to drown you, and I can’t have that.”
“Good lord, woman,” he replies, his voice a dark rattle. “You are filthy. Did you come this way or did I make you this way?”
“I come whatever way you want me to,” I joke.
“Stop it,” he grits out.
“You love it. You know you want me to suck the grumpy juice out of you so hard you’ll be singing show tunes in the shower for the rest of your life,” I murmur, palming his cock over his jeans.
He grips my hips and presses into me, nudging my breasts with his face and playfully biting my nipple through my bra and sweater. “No way. I’m gonna fuck all the puns right out of your dirty mouth.”
23
Vince
She hikes up one thigh around my waist and breathlessly replies, “Oh yeah? Well nothing would make me happier than you trying. I’ll drink up every drop until I’m Singing in the Rain.”
“You are the worst,” I bite out.
“Some men find me adorable and charming.”
I pound my fist against the stone wall. I can’t tolerate even the faintest hint of a joke about other men sniffing around my Jewel.
My voice rumbles into her neck. “Which men find you adorable? Don’t forget you’re mine. All of you.”
“You know you still haven’t finished me off from the other morning… And nobody’s around, if you wanted to…”
My hands are already all the way up the back of her skirt and grazing over her panties. My fingers linger on the fabric over the split in her ass and I press just enough to make her squeak. I’m about to say something really inappropriate when I realize her squeaking sounds uncannily like the words, “Headmistress Moody!”
Fuck.
Hair smoothed, shirts and skirts straightened, boners hidden, smeared lipstick managed, we turn to face the buttoned-up lady in the tidy hunter green cardigan emblazoned with the school logo and the severe bun clip clopping toward us.
“There you are, Ms. Fairhope. I see you’ve posted the cast list. Very good. The IT department assures me the WiFi will be back up and running in the morning. In the meantime, the students will have to deal with rejection like we did in the old days around here—publicly.”
Jewel clears her throat and says nervously, breathlessly, “Yes, ma’am.”
She snaps her gaze to me and I instantly understand why my effervescent girlfriend is struck nearly speechless by this woman. Headmistress Moody could scare the piss out of a person with one look.
“Hi,” I say dumbly.
“Ma’am, you remember Vince Cole, Max’s dad. He’s going to be helping us build sets.”
I hold out my hand. Headmistress Moody is not a large woman, but she shakes hands with the strength of a stevedore. “And helping you post to the bulletin board, I see. Well, if the two of you are quite finished with this arduous task, I trust there are more labors to be undertaken elsewhere. Perhaps somewhere with a reduced chance of being spotted by a random child. This is a school, after all.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I mutter.
When she turns and clip-clops away, Jewel covers her mouth to keep from screaming. I feel like I’ve had a bucket of ice water dumped on my head.
“Why do I feel like I just lost fifty points for Gryffindor?”
Jewel gasps and points at me. “Have you actually been reading the books?”
I shake my head. “Max is making me watch the movies. Don’t even start.”
Jewel laughs silently and smacks my ass as we walk away.
24
Jewel
Shelley picked up Max from school again this afternoon for a sleepover, but I only allowed her to take Max when she promised me it wasn’t an imposition.
“Are you kidding me? For one thing, Max keeps our girls from fighting with each other. Second of all, I’ve never seen Vince so happy.”
I rear back. “How can you tell? His face doesn’t change! He has three expressions: mad, annoyed, and confused. I’m barely learning to distinguish them, one from the other.”
She laughs. “Trust me, I can tell.”
Max gives me a high five and grunts when I chirp, “See you Monday, buddy!”
Like father like son.
The phrase pierces my heart a little, because I don’t really know the fate of those two. All I know is that whatever happens, I’ll be there for both of them. Still, hanging in the air are some things that Vince and I need to talk about. Such as, how can he be ready to love me and Max if he doesn’t love himself?
25
Vince
I have a hard time convincing Jewel that I can be buried nine inches deep in her and still carry on a heavy conversation. So we compromise. I get to play with her boobs while she talks to me about the important things we need to discuss, on the condition that I reply with more than one-syllable answers.
I think I’m still getting the better end of the bargain.
My suspicion is confirmed once I’ve got her on her back, nestled in one of the gigantic bean bag chairs in her living room. It’s like she never wants to leave a kindergarten classroom.
We’ve decided to play it safe regarding Max’s grandmother’s spies by sleeping over at Jewel’s place, at least for the time being.
Jewel’s tight red sweater is hiked up around her armpits and I’ve jerked down the fabric of her bra with my thumb. The voluminous round flesh spills out in a pink wave, and her nipples greet me, already taut and ready for my mouth.
I kiss the tip of one nipple sweetly, gently, barely brushing it with my lips. The other gets the same treatment.
Jewel is doing her best to hold it together.
“I…uh…need to talk to you about what you said the other day, in bed. About you not liking yourself.”
“‘K.”
“Vince,” she says reproachfully.
“Sorry,” I grunt. “I mean ‘yes, let’s discuss that’.”
Her creamy skin warms under my touch. I cover one nipple with my mouth and tease it with my tongue before popping it out and blowing on the wet spot.
“I…ah…uhm…Vince…oh jeez…”
My eyes connect with hers and she’s starting to get that glazed look. Her cheeks are pink. She’s biting her lip, trying not to moan. I repeat the move with the other nipple and I think I hear a squeak.
“I’m concerned about what you said. Why don’t you like yourself?” She is a tenacious thing.
The sooner I answer her truthfully, the sooner I can get this sweater off of her.
I rest my face between her breasts and run my hand between the sweater and her skin. She finally mutters about being uncomfortable and removes it all on her own.
I look down at her, and I can hardly believe she’s mine. This glowing peaches-and-cream skin is mine to touch. I’m blown away by the fact that she wants me as much as I want her, that she cares so much about me that she needs to talk about my issues with myself.
“Babe,” I say, cupping her breast and caressing her skin with my beard. “I’m not exactly a prize. I have no job. I have a bad temper. I don’t have money to afford to rent space for my PI business. The only friends I have are Barry and Shelley and now you.”
“And Max. Don’t forget Max. You are the best friend that kid has possibly ever had. That makes you an awesome friend. You’re his hero.”
I sigh into the side of her tit, gently squeezing. Her breasts give me so much joy and one day, maybe, they will feed a little one of our own. “I’m not a hero.”
She weaves her fingers into my hair and plays with it. I love the feeling of her fingers scraping against my scalp. “Well, suck it up, buster, because he worships you. Did he tell you that during art class we all drew our favorite superheroes and he drew you?”
This news knocks me on my ass.
“Shit,” I whisper, suddenly barely able to make sounds.
Jewel continues, “As far as he’s concerned, right or wrong, you rescued him
from a shitty situation and that is imprinted on his five-year-old brain. That’s going to go with him for the rest of his life, so try to see yourself through his eyes. And through my eyes… the eyes of love. You’re allowed to love yourself. It’s OK. In fact, it’s more than OK—it’s necessary in the whole order of things. You can’t love me until you love yourself.”
I don’t reply. I couldn’t if I wanted to. My throat’s blocked by something.
“Vince?”
I simply shake my head, and then something else happens. My neck and shoulders start to shake, and then my whole body. I’m not sure what’s happening. Something is bubbling up to the surface and I don’t like it. It doesn’t feel good. But it feels necessary.
“Oh, Vince, baby. It’s OK.”
Her arms circle around me.
“Let it out,” she murmurs into my hair. My eyes squeeze shut.
Fuck this shit.
Fuck everyone and everything.
People suck.
I don’t know how to speak. I don’t know how to behave. I don’t know how to fix myself. All I know how to do is be here and let Jewel comfort me, let her nourish me with her body. Her body and her sweet, pure soul.
And maybe, by the time I fall asleep, I allow myself to admit that I deserve her.
26
Jewel
We startle awake hours later to a pounding on the door.
It’s strange, isn’t it? How I know exactly who it is by the sound his fist makes against wood? Not strange, I guess, since I know the things I know. The things I learned as I listened to him lose his temper every other day when he was drinking.
I don’t have to wake up Vince. He’s awake and on his feet, pulling me up into his arms and carrying me back to the bedroom. It feels like he’s doing it all on instinct, almost like he’s still asleep.