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He cocks an eyebrow as his gaze slides from my face and down the length of my body. “I’ll be right outside,” he says with a sly grin, “using my X-ray vision.”
“Get out of here.”
Once I’ve changed out of the pajamas I borrowed from Claire, I come out of the bedroom and find Caleb having a conversation with Junior about cars. Junior nods at me, his way of saying good morning, I guess.
“Good morning. Is everyone awake?”
“Yeah, except Ryder. As usual.” He looks to Caleb, his eyes wide. “Hey, we should go cover him in shaving cream and post a video of it on Facebook.”
Caleb pats his arm. “You’re on your own there, man.”
Junior’s shoulders slump, but he follows closely behind us as we head downstairs. Jimi, Claire, and Chris are in the kitchen cooking what smells like bacon and waffles. Chris is ladling batter into a waffle iron while Jimi fries the bacon in an iron skillet. Claire is unloading the clean dishes from the dishwasher. Junior heads straight for the breakfast bar, not bothering to offer his help as he grabs the remote and turns on the TV/computer.
“Is there anything we can help with?” I say.
Chris turns away from the waffle iron. “Hey, there. Good morning.”
“Good morning, Abby,” Claire says, smiling at me as she stacks up some plates in a cupboard.
Chris nudges Jimi’s arm and I can hear her sigh before she turns her head to flash me a stiff smile. “Good morning.”
“Sweetheart, we don’t need any help,” Claire says, grabbing the utensil tray out of the dishwasher. “You two just sit down and relax. Breakfast is almost ready. Chris’s famous waffles.”
“That’s lame, Mom. Not everything Dad makes is famous,” Junior says as he flips through the TV channels.
“He made you, didn’t he?” she replies.
Junior scrunches up his face in disgust. “Gross. Can we please save the sex talk for after breakfast?”
Jimi laughs at this and I cover my mouth to hide my smile, but Caleb lets out a brief guffaw. Claire and Chris glare at Junior, unimpressed.
“You’re lucky your brother isn’t here, or you’d be grounded,” Claire says. “Now set the table.”
Junior rolls his eyes then heads into the kitchen to grab some plates, glasses, and silverware. I offer to help him, but he refuses, nodding toward his parents to imply they’d be upset if he enlisted my help.
Once the table is set, Junior sits on the other side of Caleb while Claire sits on my other side. Chris sits next to Claire and Jimi sits between him and Junior.
“How about Ryder?” I ask.
“He’ll eat when he wakes up. I try not to wake the kids up too early in the summer.”
“You didn’t mind waking me up this morning,” Jimi says, cutting a piece of waffle and stabbing it with her fork.
“That’s because you’re grounded, and part of being grounded is losing privileges, like waking up late,” Claire replies.
Jimi doesn’t respond, so Chris leans over and whispers something in her ear. Her nostrils flare as she purses her lips together, trying to maintain her composure. But tears begin to well up in her eyes and she throws down her fork on the plate and rises from the table, storming out of the breakfast nook without another word.
“What did you say to her?” Claire asks when Jimi is gone.
Chris continues to cut his waffle, unimpressed with Jimi’s emotional exit. “I told her that I locked her cell phone in the safe. She’s not bringing it to the beach house.”
Caleb and I glance at each other, unsure what to say. I don’t know if I should acknowledge that I’m the reason Jimi is in a bad mood. Maybe I should just offer to leave. I open my mouth to speak, but Chris puts up his hand.
“Don’t let her get to you. This has nothing to do with you being here.”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” I reply. “I really don’t want to ruin her summer.”
Claire stares at the plate of waffles in the center of the table and Chris grabs her hand before he looks me in the eye. “I’ll admit that I’ve spoiled Jimi. After losing you, it was hard not to channel all the love we felt for you into her. We doted on her and treated her like a princess. But we also raised her to be loving and helpful. She knows that we’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a very long time. She may be sixteen, but she’s a bright girl. She knows this behavior is not welcoming. So she’ll just have to deal with the consequences of her actions until she decides she’s ready to approach this situation from a place of maturity.”
I nod when he’s done speaking. For some reason, I feel a bit chastised, like I’m not allowed to stick up for Jimi. Then I realize, this is what it feels like to have siblings. You fight and your parents try to keep the peace. But, inevitably, someone ends up in trouble. Then a bit of time passes and everyone loves each other again.
I don’t like being a source of anguish for Jimi, but maybe this tension will change us for the better.
“You want to ride with us to the beach house?” Caleb asks Junior, and I’m grateful to put an end to the heavy silence.
“Really? Can I drive?”
Chris and Caleb laugh. “No, but I’ll put the top down and you can sit in the back.”
“I’ll take that.”
I glance at Claire and she’s smiling at Junior. Then she reaches across the table and squeezes Chris’s hand. “Go talk to her.”
Chris nods and turns to Caleb as he stands from the table. “Are you sure you don’t mind taking him with you?”
“Not at all. I like his style,” Caleb replies and Junior grins.
Chris looks a little leery of Caleb’s friendliness, as if he suspects Caleb of trying to get on his good side. I smile as I realize I have two fathers who want to protect me from Caleb. How lucky am I?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“MAKE IT QUICK,” Claire says, grabbing my wallet off the dresser and handing it to me. “I want to make it to the beach house before eight. And… I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?” I say, tucking my wallet into the
back pocket of my jeans. “Does it involve nudity?” I grab her hips and pull her toward me so her breasts are pressed against my chest.
She lets out a nervous giggle as I brush my lips over the length of her slender neck. “Maybe. Just hurry up, okay?”
I take her face in my hands and look her in the eye. “In that case, I’ll be back in a flash. Do I need to pick up anything on the way home? Massage oil? Whipped cream? Batteries?”
She shakes her head and pushes me away. “Just go have your drink and come back soon.”
I slap her ass as I walk out of the bedroom and she yelps. “See you later, babe.”
I rush out of the house and slide into the driver’s seat of my Jaguar. One of my many regrets I have as a father is that I taught my children to appreciate the feeling of being behind the wheel of a fast car. I used to set Jimi and Junior in my lap when they were much smaller and let them steer while I drove around empty parking lots. I regret it because now they refuse to drive the safer self-driving cars. They want to grab that steering wheel and command the road.
Normally, I ride my motorcycle everywhere during the summer, but there’s a chance of rain today, so I’ll stick to the Jaguar. Last thing I need is to have my bike slide over a slick road and into a busy intersection just hours before I’m supposed to go to the beach house to spend the summer with my firstborn.
My Abby.
I park the Jaguar next to Tristan’s new Tesla and head straight into the pub. He’s sitting on the second to last stool at the end of the bar, as usual, and nursing a draft beer while laughing about something with Link. Link bought the bar about ten years ago when the previous owner retired. So, naturally, Tristan Pollock has spent the last ten years getting drunk on Link’s dime.
His shoulder-length light-brown hair flies all over the place as he points his finger in Link’s face and laughs. “Ha! I knew it was you at that fucking show. You don’t have to pretend with me, bitch.”
