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“I’m a spirit medium and your brother has serious insecurities,” she said. Charlie stuck her hand out for me to shake it. Every single one of her nails was painted a different color and she has bracelets stacked halfway up her arm.
“That’s…intense. It’s cool, very cool,” I told her. My voice belied my real feelings. “Do the spirits say anything about my release, or whether or not the Cavellis will finish the job they started?”
“I don’t work off the clock, Calvin, but I can tell you right now, that it doesn’t look good for you.”
I couldn’t tell if she was teasing or making shit up, or trying to get my goat, but seeing her friend infiltrate our circle gave Ellison reason to come striding over.
El was as beautiful as the first day I saw her, long wavy hair, big blue eyes filled with wonder. She’d filled out, wider hips, thicker thighs and it made her look womanly to me, sexier and more powerful, as if motherhood were her secret super power and having Adele had cemented her allure.
“So this is your ex-con murderer baby-daddy?” Charlie asked Ellison.
I choked on my beer and turned so as to not spray it all over them.
“Well, when you put it like that, Char. But, yes, this is Calvin. Adele’s father.”
When Ellison said the words, the gravity of it hit me like a bowling ball to the chest. Fuck me, I’ve missed ten years of my daughter’s life, ten years of Ellison. What would I have done if we were eighteen again? Would I have grabbed her and hauled her to me, kissed her and wrapped an arm around her throughout the whole party? Would Adele have called me Daddy or Dad? Would I have been grilling alongside Fox and would Monty and my mom still have been here?
“Listen,” I said to Ellison’s friend, “you can call me whatever you want. You’re right, I fucked up and I’ve got a whole lifetime to make up for.”
Then I turned to Ellison because I was on a roll and just being near her brought back a torrent of memories that I was gonna drowned in if I didn’t do something quick.
“El, would you go out with me? Like on a date? I’d like to take you to dinner. If you’d feel more comfortable, we could double up with Fox and Charlie, I’m sure they’d come along. Is Silverado’s still open? I remember you used to love to go there.”
It’s a start. I felt like a stammering junior high schooler.
Now Ellison looked like she’s going to choke.
“Mom loves Silverados,” Adele said. Her tone sounded jaded and bored like a typical sixth grader, as if Silverados and her mother going there was the biggest pain in her ass.
“You could come, too,” I told Adele. Maybe El would reject a date, but how could she turn down a family dinner?
“I think you and me have to have a little talk first,” Ellison said. She eyed the house again and headed that way, leaving Fox and Charlie behind looking uncomfortable. I already overstepped the boundaries. Little does she know, I wanted to toss the boundaries out the fucking window.
“Uh-Oooohhh, someone’s in trouble,” Adele said, tossing her corn bags. “I know that voice. Calvin is getting a time out and allowance docked for a whole week.” But she smiled at me as she said it and her smile lit up the whole fucking world. If I’d had even one single photo of her on my cell wall, I’d have woken up and done something with my time instead of just surviving it. Adele was joy encapsulated. So pure and refreshing, not to mention killer comedic timing.
“Better get your butt in there before she cuts phone privilege.”
“She can do that?” I asked Adele.
“She’s Mom, she can make your life hell,” Adele told me smiling.
“Here,” Fox said as he handed me his beer. ‘You’ll need this more than I do.”
I took the beer, fist bumped Adele and walked into the Montgomery house to take my punishment.
Chapter 39
ELLISON
I set up some basic rules with Calvin, nothing too daunting. Just some boundaries to navigate this new relationship and to help us all adjust.
Laying out the plan to the most gorgeous man in the world who held back a grin the entire time while you’re trying to be serious, was unnerving as hell, It also ruined your brand new silky underwear.
He stood against the wall, one leg bent, foot on the paneling, arms crossed, hair flopping forward over one eye, looking like a hot convict line-up while I told him how angry I was.
Calvin was no cocky con, he’s receptive and thoughtful, apologetic and agreed to my stipulations.
“You’re right, Ellison. I was out of line. I’m sorry again,” he groveled.
I reminded myself that he’s toxic. A murderer. A jealous rage machine who stripped me of my employment after ten years of not seeing me.
