“Oh man, dude, your parents crack me up.” I chuckle as I climb into the driver’s seat. “Even I have to admit, it’s sweet.”
“Yeah, real sweet.” Caleb laughs. “You’re not the one who had to hear them going at it through the walls at least three times a week growing up.”
I edge onto the highway that’s now lined with rush hour traffic. “My mom and dad were a lot like that, too, remember…before she got sick. They were so affectionate with one another. I often wonder how different things would’ve been if she’d lived, you know?”
Caleb stares out the window and a moment of silence passes between us, both of us lost in thought. “Do you think you’ll ever speak to your dad again?”
I scratch my chin, pondering his question. It’s not an easy one to answer. “I don’t know. I’m not the one who cut off contact. Do I think about him? Sure. Wonder what he’s doing? Yeah. But he left us emotionally after Mom passed and then physically after Clara died. I wouldn’t even know how to find him at this point. Last I knew he was in Wyoming.”
“I’m sorry,” Caleb says with the utmost sincerity. “I wish things could’ve been different for you.”
“You know what, Caleb?” I smile warmly, keeping my eyes on the road. “Ever since I can remember, your family has felt like home to me, and for that I’m not sorry at all. You have an amazing family and a mom and dad who love you. I hope you know how lucky you are.”
“I do,” he replies, knocking his head back against the seat. “As crazy as they are, I do.”
The remainder of the ride back to the hotel is quiet. Thoughts of Dad, Mom, and Clara taking up residence in my mind. Dad wasn’t the only one who changed. I changed, too. I lost my faith and became obsessed with making sure things were perfect in my life, but it dawns on me now just how far from perfect they really are.
“What do you want to drink?” I ask Caleb as he heads off to grab us a table.
“I’ll just have a beer, man, thanks.”
I squeeze through the crowd at the bar and while I’m waiting to catch the bartender’s attention, I pull out my cell phone and text Fran.
Hey. We’re downstairs in the bar. Waiting on you.
I was about to type “Can’t wait to see you” but something held me back.
A second later my phone dings.
Be right down.
And just like that my chest feels lighter, my breathing steadier. I may not be able to voice it out loud, but my head is screaming that I can’t wait to see her.
I order two beers and scan the crowd, drumming my fingers against the bar to keep busy. Something catches my attention near the entrance and I turn my head just in time to see Fran and Peyton. It’s almost as if I could sense her presence, the hairs on my skin letting me know she was close.
“Wow.” I know I said that out loud. She’s exquisite, wearing a black dress that hugs every curve, her hair cascading over her shoulders in sleek, dark waves. Even from here I can glean the sparkle in the green of her eyes. She’s stolen all of my breath and maybe even a sliver of my heart. I quickly take a swig of the beer set down before me, my throat dry as I watch her make her way toward me. I can’t move or breathe, and when she’s finally standing in front of me, I can barely speak. “Hey,” I manage, unable to pry my eyes from hers.
“Hey, yourself,” she replies, and a huge grin breaks out across my face.
I vaguely hear Peyton coughing to make her presence known and I shift. “Hi, Peyton.”
“Hi, Matt. Oh, I see Caleb. I’m going over.” She continues walking but calls back, “Can you get me a vodka tonic, Fran?”
“Uh huh,” Fran replies, and I finally decide it’s time to find my voice.
“You look…beautiful, Fran.”
“Thank you,” she says, her eyes raking over my body. “You look pretty decent, too.”
“Don’t go overboard with the compliments,” I tease, motioning toward the bar. “What can I get you to drink?”
“I’ll have a rum and coke, please.” She eyes the table, Caleb and Peyton already getting cozy in the corner.
“Why don’t you go on ahead. I’ll bring the drinks over.” I won’t deny I want to watch her walk away and Jesus, as she does, it was completely worth it. Her ass is perfectly outlined through that dress and she’s all legs and—shit, she just turned around and caught me staring.
I make two trips to bring the drinks over and then take a seat across from Fran. Peyton and Caleb are already lost in their own little world, so for all intents and purposes, Fran and I are alone.
She takes a sip of her drink and catches me eyeing her again. “You like what’s on the menu?” Her voice is low and sexy and my breath catches.
“Maybe.” I grin, but then for once in my life decide to say fuck it. “Yeah, I do.”
Her eyes light up with surprise, a subtle shade of pink sweeping her cheeks at the same time a smile tugs at the corner of her lips.
Right answer.
Fran sits back against the chair and pulls her drink along with her, mixing it with her straw. “So… how is Caleb’s dad feeling?”
I chuckle before setting my beer down on the table. “He’s okay. A bit irritable, but that’s to be expected. He’s kind of immobile right now.” My mind drifts to the more important reasons behind his mood change and I smirk.
“What? What’s so funny?” Fran asks, peeking at me over the glass, that cute little wrinkle in her forehead popping out.
“Well….” I try to figure out a way to put this without being too blunt. “Because of his hip, his dad is feeling a bit…deprived.”
Her eyebrows squish together and her nose crinkles until the light bulb goes off in her head. “Oooooh,” she says, smiling, “that.”
“Yeah.”
She cocks her head, tapping her fingernails on the side of her glass, contemplating me. “You really love them, don’t you? His family?”
“Yes, as if they’re my own,” I say fondly. “They’re the closest thing I’ve had to a home since I was seventeen. After my mom died, well, things started to fall apart. My dad was devastated and started to withdraw from us a little every day. When Clara passed away eight years ago, he finally left and I haven’t spoken to or seen him since.” I let out a hard sigh, running a hand through my hair roughly. “It’s not that I can even blame him, though. First he loses the love of his life, and then years later he loses his daughter, both to the same illness. I wouldn’t even begin to know how to cope with that.”
“That couldn’t have been easy on you, either. It’s great that you had Caleb’s family, then.” Sadness lines the rims of her eyes and I wonder what’s behind it. “I never really had that kind of a home life either. That reminds me,” she mutters, putting a hand over her mouth briefly, “I’ve been here four days and I haven’t even called my mom.”
I’ve noticed Fran hasn’t mentioned very much about her mom and dad during the time we’ve spent together. “I assume you’re not that close?”
“I absolutely love my mom, don’t get me wrong, but since she left New York we end up on the phone a lot more often than we end up seeing one another. I don’t know,” she says with a faraway look, “I wish we were closer emotionally but it’s hard for her. She carries a lot of guilt.”
I’m just about to ask her what she means by that when Caleb comes up for air and breaks into our conversation.
“You guys want to play a game?” he asks, draining the last of his beer and slamming it down on the table.
“What kind of a game?” Fran asks cautiously, “One of your dirty secrets games again?” She and Peyton exchange some sort of covert glance before she returns her gaze to Caleb.