Page 8 of Hearts of Fairlake

"Jesus."

"Yeah. I didn't know what to say to that, and I just told him I understood."

"I don't think there’s much more you can say to that."

Amber stirred in her chair, looking up at me with big eyes. "Fuit."

"Fruit?" Adam asked, cocking his head. "Aren't you full?"

I snorted. "No, the dancing fruit. Those videos."

"Oh, right," he said with a hum, pulling her out of her seat. "Well, I'm sure we can accommodate you. I'm sure Papa Bennett would appreciate some mindless entertainment."

"I don't know if mindless is the right word. That damn thing is hypnotic. If I watch it for too long, I feel like I'm going into a trance. That's what you're trying to do, isn't it? Get me to fall asleep on the couch."

"Well, that way, you might be rested for the nap-time activities I offered you," he said with a smirk, putting a hand on my lower back and steering me toward the living room. "We've been ships passing in the night, and I think we could afford to dock."

"God, that's awful."

"Nautical puns are cool now I'm a dad."

"No, I just...when we sit down and she's not paying attention, look up what docking means."

"Uhhh...this doesn't have to do with ships, does it?"

"Nope. Look it up under a p-e-n-i-s context."

"Oh God. What have I stumbled into?"

"You'll see," I said with an evil chuckle as I dropped down onto the couch with two of my favorite people and let Adam scroll through the video list on the TV to find what we were looking for. Amber, now content that she could stay here and be given her favorite snack and her video of choice, snuggled between us perfectly. I could smell the familiar scent of sawdust and the faint bite of gasoline on Adam as I leaned in to rest my head on his chest as we laid back.

"Do you think Chase will ever have the courage to pop the question?" I asked as fruit danced monotonously across the screen, cartoon smiles painted on their faces and beginning to add a pleasant numbness to my thoughts. The problem was, I never got Adam's answer, as the warmth of the silly little domestic scene combined with silly dancing fruit wrapped itself around the exhaustion in my mind and pulled me into the abyss of sleep before he managed to reply.

Honestly, I could live with that.

KYLE

"Oh, what the fuck? It's too early for this."

The voice carried all the way to where I stood near the back door, in all its irritated, exasperated glory. Which, normally, would amuse me because swearing wasn't her thing, but I also knew what that tone signified, and I wondered just how badly my day was about to be spoiled. So, with a sigh, I gripped my mug of coffee closer and walked toward the front of the house.

For a moment, I was startled to find a strange young woman standing at the window, her face twisted into a distasteful expression. She still had her father's slightly angular jaw and flat nose, but other things had changed over the years. I tried not to think too hard about it, but there was a sometimes unsettling resemblance to her mother, especially when she was annoyed or angry...like she was now.

Her hair was thrown to one side, exposing her ear so I could see the device around its outer rim, letting me clear my throat to get her attention. She grunted in response, gesturing toward the front lawn. I stepped up to the window to look and chuckled. "Look, I know Ian isn't the best atunderstanding what is or isn't a weed, but we've been doing better. The flower bed doesn't lookthatbad."

Ayla glanced at me and rolled her eyes toward the front walk, where I knew she'd been looking in the first place. "You know I'm not talking about his front garden massacre."

"No, I imagine not," I said as I watched the old woman standing on our front walk peer down at the admittedly brutalized front flower bed. Itreallylooked bad, and I was quickly reminded why Ayla or I should be the one to pick through the weeds or have one of us stand guard to make sure he didn't destroy everything. Still, it had been sweet of him to make an attempt while I was working overtime this week...unnecessary and disastrous but sweet. "Planning on taking it out?"

Ayla's hand stole up to the cochlear implant curling around her ear, and she sighed, making an ugly face. "No, she stopped accepting that I was just a bratty kid years ago. Now she'll think I'm a bratty teenager who hasn't learned respect."

"Well," I said, taking another sip as I watched the old woman make her way up the front porch, moving carefully with her cane. "At least we can say she’d be seeing the real you then, wouldn't we?"

"You're hilarious, Kyle."

"I have my moments," I said as the doorbell rang once.

"You really don't. My dad didn't marry you for your sense of humor. We both know that."

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