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“What did you mean when you said you didn’t enjoy growing up in your house?” Paisley asks me.
I don’t see a reason to lie to her.
“It’s not the house. It’s what surrounded it. My parents had enough money to fit in. They should have had country club memberships, but each board rejected their applications.”
People hide their immorality. Ours was in the open for all of Brighton to judge.
“Their kids were complete assholes, too. By the time our hormones caught up with us, most of them were taught sex was sinful. None of the girls’ fathers could cope with them having me as a friend, let alone the fact that I could be the guy they waited on the porch for with a shotgun. In high school, the boys were all convinced the band geek was out to steal what they had.”
“Band geek? I can’t imagine you in a uniform with the feather on the cap.” She draws her hand up from her forehead as far as it can go, indicating a plume. Her knuckles inadvertently hit the wall. “Oops, sorry. I got carried away.”
“Take two feet off my height, fifty pounds off my weight, add a full set of braces to my teeth, and dot my face with acne.”
“Did you play the flute?” She giggles.
“Percussion. And I caught what you did there. Bad form.” I tickle Paisley to keep her smiling, though I tire of anyone questioning anyone else’s sexuality.
Those same holier-than-thou kids were as likely to question what I was doing with Carver—a kid from the wrong side of the tracks—when he lived with us as they were to say I fucked strippers. Shy of forty years old, I haven’t been in a situation with creative people; dancers, musicians, artists, who only lead traditional lifestyles. Hell, a majority of Sweet Caroline’s female guests are there to watch the shows, not to pick up anybody.
That one couple when Cece Wescott hung up her stilettos notwithstanding.
“I won’t be as kind if you say that again,” I warn her between her gasping breaths.
“Okay!” she squeals. “Okay, I was rude and wrong. Now stop!” She regains her composure. “Oh, is that why you have the drum set?”
“You wanna go off on that tangent now or finish the discussion we’re having?”
“Keep going. With the growing up part, I mean. Although if you played the drums in high school, I can see why a teenage boy would worry about keeping a teenage girl’s attention. No matter how old you are, drummers are sort of sexy.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Am I allowed to be curious about your father? It surprised me how many pictures your mom has of him.”
“You can ask whatever you want,corazón. That doesn’t mean I’ll always answer… But in this case, Caroline holds a torch for him.”
“Why? Everyone said—Well, I guess I was too young then to know what everyone said.”
“My dad got involved with the wrong sort. It was disrespectful to my mom and their marriage, but she says it wasn’t a matter of infidelity.”
“It still bothers you.” She leans her head on my chest.
“How could it not? When the ATF took the ring down, the business they built together was a casualty.”
“But you still make shady deals.”
There’s no sense in denying what Paisley already knows. The difference between me and my dad is what I do has no fallout. I came back to Brighton and made sure Caroline was set financially if the club goes under. I have no family relying on me. My dreams went up in smoke, so the fuck do I have to reach for anymore? Paisley won’t stick around and my mom got used to visiting day at the corrections institution. I’m sure Caroline can do it again.
We stand up, dusting our palms on our thighs. In the awkward silence, I calculate how much time I have left with her if Pais cuts bait at the first sign of trouble. I’ve tried my best behavior on for size since we met. It’s yielded mixed results.
“Stay here tonight.” I tug her toward the bedroom.
She hovers in the doorway. “I’m not sleeping with you, Jake.”
“Yes, you are. In my bed. And I get to touch you.” I unbutton my shirt and toss it to the side. “I’ll bring you home in the morning.”
“Then I’m wearing my dress to bed.”
“Without your panties.”
