“Pink?”
“I don’t usually hit girls. She’d have the best chance of taking me, though. We’d have to see what the circumstances were.”
“That’s kind of sexist.” Her hands came up around my neck.
“I’ll do that Gender Studies crap you’re always talking about when we go to college.” I kissed her nose. “Stop crying.”
“There’s Saxon and Cadence.” She nodded, and I glanced over my shoulder to watch.
They were walking towards us, Saxon tight-lipped and looking royally pissed, Cadence puffy-faced and furious. Cadence took our trays and shook her head when I asked about the check. She walked everything back, and Saxon stood staring at the cement. We were awkwardly silent until Cadence stomped back over.
“Our shift is over. Can we give Cadance a ride home before we go to Aunt Helene’s?” Saxon gritted out.
“Yeah. Of course. Hop in.” I hadn’t talked to Saxon about going anywhere, but if he needed me, I was there.
I could see that Brenna was dying to say something to me, but there was nothing really to say until we knew what was up.
So Brenna stayed uncharacteristically quiet. She slid super close to me and Cadence got in next to her. Saxon got in last, pressed himself all the way up to the passenger side door, and half hung out the window. It was like he was trying to put as much distance between him and Cadence as he possibly could.
After a few minutes, Cadence broke the excruciating silence. “My house is right up the road.” She pointed to a brick apartment building. I pulled over, and Saxon jumped out and tried to take her hand. She pulled it away and shook her head. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked up to the door with her.
“How does he manage that?” Brenna asked.
“What?” I watched her watch them.
“To look belligerent just by the way he walks?” She twisted in the seat to better see what would happen next.
“It’s just the natural asshole DNA in his genes.” I checked on them and saw Cadence with her hand on the doorknob, Saxon standing off to the side. “They don’t look all that friendly.”
“She might resent that fact that you two beat the crap out of her boyfriend in her parents’ parking lot.” Brenna’s voice spilled out sour and moody. “I’m still pissed at you about that. You’re lucky you didn’t get seriously hurt.”
“He was being really aggressive with her and you,” I defended.
She sliced me with one shivery look, her eyes narrowed. “So you solved the problem by jumping in and hammering on him? And stop pretending that was your motive anyway.”
“Why does it bother you so much that I want to protect you?”
“How did punching some random rude guy in the nose count as protecting me?” she countered, throwing her hands up. “I’m not asking for you to brawl for me. I think sometimes I’m just your excuse to let bad boy Jake out of his deep, dark little box.” She stared right at me, not even interested in what Saxon and Cadence were talking about now.
“What?” I shook my head and sputtered for a minute, trying to think what I could say to her accusation. “That makes no sense.”
“It makes total sense.” I could tell she was about to really bite into this argument. Brenna didn’t let things drop easily, especially if I argued that she wasn’t being sensible. “You’re pretty reformed, but once in a while I guess your old urges come back, right? And you do things you knowyou shouldn’t, dangerous, stupid things.”
“No.” I gripped the steering wheel hard in annoyance.
She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. “Really?” Her mouth had a pinched look. “So you getting drunk and skinny-dipping with people you hate, or sleeping with Nikki, or punching every guy who gets you mad doesn’t seem a little familiar to you?”
“I’m totally over all that shit, Bren.” I felt pissed because, as usual, she had a good point I hadn’t thought of.
Whatever we were going to say next, it didn’t get said. Saxon came back to the truck, got in, and slammed the door hard enough that the whole frame shook.
“Let’s go.” He stuck his hands into his pockets, I assumed looking for his smokes. He must have forgotten them, though, because he stopped after a minute and slammed back in the seat.
I put the car in drive, but we hardly had any distance to go before we pulled up at the neat little row house our Great Aunt Helene lived in. As soon as we pulled up, I got déjà vu so strong it made my stomach flip. I had been here before. Definitely. When I was just tiny. I had this really strong sense of my mother, like I could remember holding her hand and walking up the steps slowly when I so small I still needed help.
I got this strong, vivid picture flashing in my mind of my mom’s long hair brushing over my head when she leaned down to help me, red high heels on the stone steps, her voice, doing that mom cooing thing moms’ voices do when they talk to their kids, the smell of cut grass and the sound of bicycle bells and kids yelling happy summertime yells. It all sucked and pressed around me for a crazy second, then snapped back off.
“Jake? Are you okay?” Brenna put a hand on my arm.
Her voice shook me out of my weird spell. “Yeah. I’m cool. I’m fine. I feel like I remember being here with my mom is all.” The memory had been so real, there was no way I could have imagined it. Could I?
She opened her mouth, but Saxon cut in, “Yeah, this is where your mom dumped you when she and my mom wanted to go get blitzed and whore it up. Mothers of the fucking decade, those two.” He got out of the truck and kicked the tire.
I was going to yell at him for talking shit about my mom and kicking my truck, but Bren had my hand and squeezed tight, grounding me.
“Don’t. It was a dick thing for him to say, but he’s in a shitty mood. You know your mom was a good person. Let it go, okay? We’ve had enough fist fights today.” She pressed her forehead to mine. “You good?”
I rolled my head back and forth against hers and let my rage go cold. “Now I am.” I kissed her hard. “Thank you, Cap’n.”
Her smile gave me the same heady rush that my little piece of maybe-memory had.
Saxon strode up to the house, and I expected him to be his usual dick-headed self, but he cut out his pouting and actually had a big smile on his face. Before the shock could totally settle in, I saw a really tiny old lady bursting out of the house.
“Come here, love!” She held her saggy, wide-open arms out. She didn’t come all the way down the steps, so when Saxon walked up to her and she put her arms around him, it kind of looked like a mom comforting her little boy.
Well, a normal mom and her little boy; the description would probably have meant nothing to Saxon.
Aunt Helene ran a gnarled hand over his hair and clucked nice things like, “That was a good thing, defending Cadence like that. You need to be more careful, love. Those Stanenbacks are giants! You’re lucky you’re so quick!”
Saxon walked up the steps and kissed her on the head and crushed her in another hug. “How do you know all this already? You’re the most connected woman in the world. Aunt Helene, stop worrying right now, okay? He was a pus…a wimp, and Jake had my back.”
“Jake!” Aunt Helene cried, her hand at her mouth. “Jake Kelly? Look at how handsome you are!” She caught sight of Brenna. “Hello, dear. Lovely girl.” She smiled. “Come in! You’re all too skinny! I made too much food! Come in and eat!”
We walked in, each of us grabbed and pinched and hugged by Aunt Helene as we filed through her foyer. I had been expecting a little bit of a dump, pretty much because of how the outside looked. Not that it was terrible; it was just a little run down. But this place was gorgeous. New mouldings, fresh paint, new furniture, shiny hardwood flooring. It looked great. And not very old lady-ish.
“Saxon,” Aunt Helene said, “Please make everyone comfortable. I’m almost done cooking.”
She bustled back in the kitchen, and Saxon looked at us and gave a hard laugh. “Hey, just because Aunt Helene is a saint doesn’t mean I’ve gotten any better. If you want something, go get it yourself. You guys are lucky Aunt Helene makes a fucking Thanksgiving dinner every night. Leftovers are unreal around here.”