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Dad looks uneasy, maybe not just at the sight of his best friend nearly naked in his kitchen. I can’t think of or know any man who wouldn’t feel more than a little humbled seeing Bowdie Bigg in nothing but a towel.
Lucy squirms because anyone with eyes could see Lucy’s in some kind of trouble. Her dad, being away so long, is the one man who is bound to overreact and make a bad situation worse, aka the reason Lucy wants whatever’s eating her kept secret.
Lucy meets her dad’s authority head-on, with no sign of giving up soon. “I just wanna go home, Dad. I feel sick, and I wanna go home. Don’t you get it? Or have you been trying to raise the dead again? Staring into a microscope while the rest of the world tries to get on with their lives!” she says it so clearly but so harshly that it’s like a knife cutting through the air, and with every slice of what it cuts, I can see fall from Bowdie’s face.
My dad signals me to follow his lead, and we exit rapidly through the living room so Lucy and her dad can “chat.”
“Did I miss something?” my dad asks aloud. It sounds like he’s talking to me, but when I look over at him, he’s asking himself. Eventually, he catches my stare. “I mean, six months ago, Bowdie was.… He was fine. Now he’s… I dunno what he is, but whatever he’s got, it must be catching. Lucy used to be so…” He wants to say something but stops himself.
“It’s not our place to say anything, honey,” he reminds me. “Why don’t you go hang out in your room, and I’ll let you know when the dust settles?”
From the rising flow and ebb of intense voices from the kitchen, I actually agree with my dad for once. If Lucy’s ready to go blow for blow with her dad, best of luck to her. I’m starting to feel in too deep again, and Bowdie still doesn’t know how I feel. I can’t help but gnaw at my lip once I flop onto my bed, my bedroom door closed as I imagine if I could be with him, let alone should be.
He’s just so… mature… and big.
Rich and handsome.
Big…
I wheeze another long sigh at “big,” recalling how he looked just now in nothing but a towel he made look like a washrag. It was so tight and small on him, and I can now say for sure those were not pleats in his pants earlier. The man isbig… everywhere.
The fantasy I’ve been building in my mind for six months spills over. With my room all to myself for what feels like the first time in ages, it isn’t long before I feel my hand slipping down the front of my sweatpants.
Right now, they’re plenty wet, but not with sweat.
CHAPTERSIX
Bowdie
Lucy’s meltdown does more than snap me out of my obsession with her best friend, for a while at least. Hearing her say something so hurtful about her mom and knowing it’s about the lowest blow anyone could give me, I should be as upset and angry as she is right now, but it only makes me realize I have neglected her these past few months. Hell, she couldn’t even tell me herself that she has a boyfriend.
Or maybe she tried, and you just never listened. You were always obsessing over Beth and asking about her every time you spoke to Lucy over the phone.
Lucy’s more grown up now than when I left, doubly so for Beth. It’s what I thought she wanted—me working away and reluctantly agreeing for her to stay behind. If it weren’t for Brad’s suggestion for Lucy to stay with Beth, I would never have agreed to Lucy remaining here alone in our house. The distance and not being here has made her see me in a different light. I match her raised voice and have a solid reply for everything she’s having a go at me for, but it’s clear something else has upset her.
I hold back on playing the boyfriend card, not wanting to pour gasoline all over her hostile mood and not wanting to go down that rabbit hole, not yet anyway. I’ll quiz her about her boyfriend when the time’s right, which isn’t today. I can feel that much already.
Lucy would never usually bring up her mom’s death like that, especially as a weapon against me. No, something else has happened, but Lucy isn’t the kind to kiss and tell, so to speak. I have to let whatever it is eating her go for now and let her come to me when she’s ready. If she’s coming out swinging with comments about her mom, then I sense her real problem is bigger than keeping the fact she has a boyfriend from her old man.
She simmers down after a while, and we both grow quiet, not feeling the need to be ashamed or embarrassed about a little shouting match but mindful of the fact it’s Brad’s house. We have kinda made him retreat someplace until our dust settles.
“Lucy, we can go home. I just think it’s only polite to stay for dinner and whatnot, especially seeing as Brad’s looked out for you for so long. It’s the only thing he’s asking. Just a few hours?” I ask, giving her my best puppy dog eyes. I feel a bit more like a rat because all I’m trying to do is buy a few more hours with Beth, living for a moment we can truly be alone so I can… Well, I haven’t decided what to do about it yet, but I’m so close I can sense how badly she needs what I want to give her. I’ll be goddamned if I leave her out of sight longer than needed, in case she gets any stupid idea about running off with some boy like Lucy.
Beth’s a special girl, and she needs the special touch—a real man with the maturity, experience, and security I can offer her. I don’t look at Beth and see an awkward grope or a guilt-laden one-night stand. I see me and her together, always together, from now on. It’s not as if I can explain all that to Lucy. Beth doesn’t even know yet. So it’s crystal clear how much I need to be around Beth more than ever, even if it is over ribs and a board game. It’s better than being thousands of miles away, losing my mind because I can’t stop thinking about where she is, what she’s doing, or even what she’s wearing.
I know it’s nuts, but that’s been my world for six months, and today… tonight feels like I’ve been let out of that prison. If I’m being selfish by putting that need over Lucy’s tantrum, so be it. There’s gonna be a higher price to pay if she ever finds out, anyway. I don’t see Brad taking kindly to the idea, either. As easygoing and even goofy as he can be, Brad’s no slouch when it comes to sticking up for his daughter, especially if his best friend here is trying to stick ituphis daughter.
Lucy’s eyes close, and she crimps her mouth. She’s fighting some invisible battle inside herself that would usually make me laugh if she wasn’t so obviously torn up about something. Maybe a night of family and friends will bring her to the point where she wants to let me help.
“Fine,” she murmurs, “but I meant it, Dad. I feel unwell and would really like to go home and curl into a ball for a few days.”
I hug her, letting her know I’m here. “Even when I’m not here, Lucy, you can come to me about anything. You know that,” I remind her. Stroking her hair back and wiping the tears off her cheeks, I peck the top of her head. “Now let me get changed, and we can see if these ribs are as good as Brad says.”
It takes a while, but Lucy looks more her usual self after another trip to the bathroom while I hunt down Brad, reemerging with a look of determination and excitement about tonight’s plans. At least we’re all here.
At least I can see Beth a little longer.
When it is time to go home? Well, I’ll have to cross that bridge when I get there. Right now, it’s time for some damage control after a rotten start to my coming back. I hear a little shrieking and carrying on from Beth’s room, convincing Brad and me that although it got off to a bad start, it’s sure still good to be home again.
