Chapter Thirty-Nine
Pizza and beernigh might just be a new tradition in our little family. It’s fun hanging out and talking. No pressure of any kind over our heads right now. I like the way this feels. This sense of belonging and being in the right place with the right people.
Logan and I never had this easiness growing up. Our family meals were always a formal affair. Even when we were kids. I can feel Logan’s and Skye’s curious glances into my direction and River’s, sitting caddy corner from me, but we have not said anything about whatever this is we have between us. I like this. I like this a lot. It feels . . . right.
After I picked River up at school, I dropped her off at her house and they—River and Skye—came back at six for dinner. Skye baked a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. I know I’ll have to grab some and hide them from Logan if I want to have any.
We’ve been stealing touches for the last hour. Little brushes of hands, elbows bumping, knees touching under the table. I want more. I need more. I need to kiss River again. I could get used to this. It feels almost normal. Almost like the version of me before I enlisted and before I knew my father was hiding my college applications. I’m lost in her and don’t realize Logan is talking to me until a piece of pizza crust hits me in the chest. I toss it back at him. He catches it midair and drops it to the paper plate in front of him. Between the two of us, we demolished an entire pepperoni pizza and a half of the girls’ veggie one.
“Okay, I waited long enough. What’s going on with the two of you?” Logan inquires, a smirk on his face.
“What?”
“You two have been in the same room for over an hour and there have been no insults, no fighting, no cursing. So, we’re wondering”—he points between Skye and himself—“what’s going on with the two of you?”
I look at River. She shrugs.
“We have a . . .”
“Truce.” River finishes my words.
His smirk grows. The SOB is enjoying himself. “So, that’s what you kids are calling it nowadays.”
“What other name do you have for a truce?” River challenges him.
“For that kind of truce?” He points at us. “Sucking face, making out. There could have been some dry humping, but I couldn’t quite tell from where I was.”
We both throw a piece of pizza crust at him. He blocks mine, but River’s hits him right in the forehead. I high five her.
“I saw you two making out in the car when you dropped her off at home.”
Skye has a big smile on her face. “Well, it’s about time.”
River scoffs. “You two should talk. You are in each other’s pants 24/7.”
Logan grabs Skye’s hand and kisses the back of it. “And that’s how I like it. I paid, you two kids clean up.”
River and I get the paper plates and toss them into the empty pizza box and start cleaning up the table. And again, I’m elated by this mundane act. How can something so simple have such a huge effect? I’m craving simple. I’m craving normal, I realize. The last five years of my life have been anything but.
I’m taking the trash out through the back door when the doorbell rings.
River calls out, “I’ll get it.”
When I get back in the house, the first thing I notice is the silence. There’s a different vibe in the air. I step around the kitchen wall and my eyes land on my parents. I need a minute to get my defenses back up so I step back into the kitchen and wash my hands. When I walk back into the room, I lean on the doorjamb and cross my arms. It’s been five years since I last saw them. Five years since I heard their voices. Five years and they choose today to show up. My father always did have perfect timing when it comes to fucking me up.
My mother takes a step toward me, but my father’s hand on her arm stops her. She pulls away from him. My body stiffens as she comes closer to me. A velvet navy blue box is in her hands. I recognize that box. It explains how they found I’m back but not why they’re here. My father turned his back on me when I refused to comply with his orders. Said I was dead to him. Seeing him here actually surprises me.
Mother wraps her arms around me. Her much smaller body is trembling and her eyes fill with tears. “My baby boy. I missed you so much.”
I’m at a loss as to what to do. My mother was never affectionate. My father watches us with displeasure. My arms go around her in an awkward embrace, her head barely up to my shoulder. I don’t remember her being this small, this frail. She holds on to me tight as if trying to make up for all the times she didn’t hug me when I needed her to.
“Enough of this!” My father’s voice breaks the moment.
My mother flinches but keeps her arms around me.
He takes a step in our direction and Logan cuts him off. Father had always been a big man, an imposing man. He used his size and ruthless demeanor to intimidate everyone around him. He thrived on it. But we are not little kids anymore and not so easily intimidated now.
Logan and I, we can hold our own. I can look our father in the eye and not flinch, not back off. He’s seething at us.