14. Derrick
14
DERRICK
After Layla and Lili moved out, time felt sluggish. But since Izzy’s arrival in May, the hours and days move by at a rapid pace, one that makes me want to hold on with both hands and beg it to slow down. To give me time to think, to catch my breath, to just be .
The Fourth of July has been a low-key affair for the past couple of years. I haven’t bothered to take the boat out since my kids typically prefer spending it with their friends.
I can’t blame them for not wanting to hang out with their dad, even if it stings. That’s one of the hard parts of being a parent—for years, life revolves around those precious beings. Days are spent caring for them, parents are attuned to their needs and their wants. Then the kids grow up, and suddenly they have their own lives.
When Izzy mentioned taking the boat out for the Fourth, I was quick to say yes. Until then, it hadn’t hit me how badly I need to have something to do, something to look forward to.
“Maybe this will be the day I see whales.”
Beside me, she carries a small yellow and white cooler. I’ve never seen it before, so it must be a new purchase. It was unnecessary. If she’d mentioned needing a cooler, I would have pulled out one of the three I’ve got stored in the garage. Her tiny hot pink bikini top is missing today. It’s been replaced by a white one dotted with cherries. Fucking cherries. Her usual jean shorts sit low on her hips, the barest hint of her matching bikini bottoms poking out. Her bright yellow plastic flip-flops match the yellow towel slung over her shoulder, and her dark hair is pulled up in a high ponytail—one I can’t seem to stop myself from tugging on like an obnoxious boy on the playground.
Side-eyeing me, she says, “Reid and Via should be here shortly, and Layla said she’s already?—”
“Grandpa!”
Lili barrels through the yard toward me, her legs carrying her as fast as they can go.
She’s growing up way too fast.
“Hey, pumpkin.” When she launches herself at me, I scoop her up and kiss her cheek. “Are you excited about taking the boat out today?”
“ So excited,” she says as I set her back on her feet. “Am I old enough to go tubing yet?” She clasps her hands beneath her chin. “Please, oh, please say I am!”
I thought that as I got older, as my kids got older, they’d stress me out less. What I didn’t account for was grandchildren. Somehow, I think most of my gray hairs are from Lili.
“We’ll talk to your mom about it. ”
I send up a silent prayer that Layla will shoot down the idea so I don’t have to be the bad guy.
“Yay!” Lili throws her arms in the air and takes off toward her mom, who’s just now making her way around the house.
Beside me, Izzy’s lips twitch in amusement.
“What?” The word is a gruff exhale.
“Oh, nothing,” she singsongs.
“Spit it out.”
Her tote slips down her shoulder, and I mindlessly slide it back up.
“You deflected Lili’s question like a pro. Now the ball is in Layla’s court, and you’re banking on her telling Lili she can’t. That way, you don’t have to be the bad guy.”
I narrow my eyes on her, and her grin gets bigger.
“You don’t have to tell me I’m right,” she says flippantly. “I know I am.”
“Give me that,” I gripe, grasping the handle of the cooler.
“I’ve got it,” she insists, just like she did when we got out of the car.
Once we reach the dock, she waits for Layla and Lili to catch up, and I get the boat ready.
Ten minutes later, we’re loaded up, and Lili is strapped into a life vest that I put on her myself so I could make sure the straps were secure. But Reid and Via still haven’t arrived.
Hands on my hips, I turn to Layla. “Where’s your brother?” Then I pivot to Izzy and add, “And your sister?”
Izzy looks at her freshly painted red nails. How do I know they’re freshly painted? Because she sat at the kitchen table last night doing them herself. “Sorry,” she says without looking up. “I don’t have a tracker on my sister.”
“I’ll call him.” Layla pulls her phone out of her tote bag .
I wave her off. “It’s fine, but if they’re not here in ten minutes, we’re heading out without them. Got it?”
With her lips pressed together in concentration, Layla types out a text to her brother anyway.
She’s just put her phone away when the two people in question crest the hill coming from Brooks’s driveway.
“Hey!” Reid calls out with a wave, then cups his hands around his mouth. “We’re coming! Sorry!”
I take it back. My grandchild is not the cause of most of my gray hairs. My son has earned that distinction.
When they reach the boat, Reid hops on with ease, then offers his hand to help Via.
“Hey,” Via says to me with a shy, soft smile. “Thanks for inviting us.”
I give her a nod, wishing things weren’t so awkward and wondering if our interactions will always be like this. We went on a single date. That’s it. The age gap between her and my son is large, but it’s not… well, it’s not the gap Izzy and I would have. Not that anything is ever going to happen between us.
It can’t.
Now that we’re all here, we head out onto the water. Izzy moves over to Lili’s side and whispers something I can’t hear above the sound of the motor and the waves.
The sun is high in the sky, and the day is hot. I applied sunscreen before we left the house, only because Izzy stared me down and watched me do it.
Thankfully, Layla agrees that Lili isn’t quite old enough to go tubing. It’s possible we’re both being overprotective, but I’m okay with that.
Once we’ve found a calm spot, away from the other boaters, I lower the anchor .
Reid and Via are quick to jump into the water to swim, laughing and splashing and so overwhelmingly in love that I can’t help but feel a pang of longing.
I assumed that, eventually, being single would get easier. Instead, that longing, the desire for a connection, continues to grow. Anymore, it’s so acute that I’m not sure it’ll ever be quelled.
My eyes drift in the direction of Izzy like they have no choice.
She’s on the bench, next to Layla, head tossed back in laughter.
Look away , I tell myself.
But I can’t.
I take her in, my attention gliding down the smooth column of her throat, to the perfect breasts threatening to spill out of that too tiny top, down her stomach to her hips and her crossed legs. Her skin looks warm from the sun—golden and shining with some sort of oil.
“Grandpa?” The sound of Lili’s voice snaps me out of my trance. Thankfully, Izzy is deeply absorbed in her conversation and hasn’t noticed the way I’ve been drooling over her.
“Yeah, princess?”
“Did you bring your fishing stuff? Can we fish?”
Thankful for the distraction from the too-beautiful woman on the boat, I nod. “I do. Let me get it set up.”
Lili chats my ear off about her friends, the day camp she’s been attending, and basically anything and everything else she can think of. All the while, I force myself to keep my focus from veering back to Izzy.
It’s been way too long since I got laid. That’s got to be the problem. I might not date much, if at all, but I’ve had the occasional hookup. I’m only human, after all. But it’s been over a year since my last, so I just… need to go out and find someone. Once I do, all this will go away.
It has to. I don’t want to think about the alternative if it doesn’t.
Nothing beats watching the fireworks from the boat. It’s been a long afternoon, and I’m tired, but I can’t deny that it’s been nice to spend so much time with my family.
“This has been a fun day,” Izzy says from beside me. “Thanks for taking us out.”
I give her a nod. “You’re welcome.”
Her arm brushes mine, her skin still heated after hours under the sun. “I’m glad I’m here,” she says softly.
I’m glad you’re here, too. The words are on the tip of my tongue. But I swallow them back, cognizant that if I voice them, she might take it the wrong way.
When I don’t respond, she goes on, “I didn’t realize how much I was missing out on. The family stuff, you know?” She wets her lips with a swipe of her tongue. “LA isn’t a bad place. In fact, I loved my life there for a very long time, but… I don’t know. I guess I’ve realized there are certain things that mean more.”
“You don’t have to defend yourself or your choices to me. It’s okay to outgrow places and people. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”
Lowering her head, she toys with the hoodie she’s got covering her lap like a blanket. “I know. But I don’t want to let anyone down. My subscribers have always been there for me. They’ve watched me grow and they’ve cheered me on. I worry that if I decide that life isn’t for me anymore, they won’t understand.”
I survey the sky, taking a moment to collect my thoughts. “Undoubtedly, there will be people who don’t understand. But there will be others who love you for you . They’ll follow you for whatever content you put out there. If you switch gears, others will discover you, too.”
“You’re right.” She turns, her face lighting a bright red as a firework bursts above us.
Her expression is laced with a sadness I’ve noticed often since she arrived. An emotion she hides so well that a lot of people, including her sister, who’s sitting at the back of the boat with my son wrapped around her, never get to see.
My chest aches with gratitude as I assess her. Because she trusts me enough to show me her true, honest self, to share that vulnerable side.
It’s hard for a person who has no one to share those pieces of themself with.
I would know.
When the fireworks come to an end, Lili lets out a groan. “That’s it? I want more!”
I stand, taking this as my cue to break the tension between Izzy and me. “Sorry, kid.” I ruffle my granddaughter’s hair as I pass her on the way to the line attached to the anchor. “That’s all until next time.”
She lets out a dramatic sigh behind me. “I hope they do more next year, then.”
Beside her daughter, Layla shakes her head, trying to hide her amusement over the things that come out of Lili’s mouth.
Once I’ve pulled the anchor, I start up the boat and head back to the dock. Reid and Via leave quickly, their laughter carrying behind them on the wind as they walk up the hill toward Brooks’s driveway. They’re wrapped up in one another, practically plastered together like they can’t get close enough.
I was like that once, with my wife. And fuck, I miss it. I miss having a best friend, a lover. No one would fault me for moving on, least of all her, but honestly, it’s not even her memory that keeps me at bay anymore. It’s the worry that nothing and no one will fit right.
“See you later, Dad.”
Layla’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts. She pops up on her toes and pecks my cheek.
I pull her into a hug. “I’m glad you could join us today.”
She pulls away, wearing a tiny smirk. “Us, huh?”
My gut sinks, but I keep my expression neutral and look over at Izzy. “She does live with me. We’ve sort of become a team.”
Layla follows my line of sight to Izzy, who’s picking up the boat, ensuring all our water bottles and food wrappers have been disposed of properly. “I can’t believe she’s working for you.”
I shrug. “She needed a change.”
“Yeah,” she says softly, looking at her friend. “She did.”
After one last hug from Lili, she and her mom head up the hill, too.
“And then it was just you and me, Captain,” Izzy jokes as she shuffles to the side of the boat.
I hold out a hand to steady her as she steps out, and as we touch, a spark travels up my arm.
A breath of air escapes her, and she locks eyes with me, like maybe she felt it, too.
Once she’s got both feet on the dock, I drop her hand, mentally shaking off the feeling of electricity. “It’s been a long day, but a good one. For me, at least. Did you enjoy yourself?” I ask as I grasp the handle of the cooler bag and tug.
She doesn’t fight me over it, signaling that she’s got to be as tired as I am. “I did.”
Despite the smile she gives me, her eyes swim with an emotion I can’t name. Like she’s got something on her mind. I don’t press her on it, though, because I’m scared she’ll bring up this connection between us.
I see the interest in her eyes when she looks at me. It matches the feelings I’m working so hard to extinguish.
The melancholic way she’s holding herself in the passenger seat as I pull out of Brooks’s driveway is like a knife to the heart.
“Do you want to stop and get slushies?”
A frown mars her gorgeous face. “Are they going to be open?”
“They’re always open.”
She brightens, a genuine smile lighting up her eyes. “Yes, please.”
Ten minutes later, I pull into the station. While I lock the truck, she scurries inside. As she fills a cup with the blue raspberry flavor, she hums along with the song playing through the speakers, hips swaying to the beat.
I have to clench my teeth to keep from groaning.
I need to go out and find someone—a woman my age, or at least close to it—for a night of fun. Once I do, this feeling I have will go away. It has to.
If it doesn’t?
I can’t even contemplate that.
Without my prompting, she grabs another cup and fills it with the Coke flavor .
She turns to me when she’s done, holding both cups and wearing a proud smile.
“Let’s go, boss man.”
I roll my eyes at the ridiculous nickname, even as my heart clenches. “You want anything else?”
With a thoughtful hum, she wanders down the candy aisle, flip-flops slapping against the dirty linoleum. She peruses the chocolate for only a moment before she snags two Crunch bars.
Holding them up, she says, “This was my favorite growing up, but it’s hard to find.”
I grab two more. “Get some extras, then.”
“I don’t need this much chocolate,” she laughs, still looking beautiful despite a day on the lake and the garish yellow light flickering above us. “Pick something for yourself.”
“I can get extra chocolate for you and still get something for myself.” I crouch and pick a pack of Reese’s to drive home my point.
She smiles at the orange package in my hand. “You would be a Reese’s man.”
Eyes narrowed, I purse my lips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Steady, reliable, always good.” She gives me a soft, almost shy smile that looks so foreign on the face of this bold, confident woman. “I like Reese’s.” She swipes a pack for herself, juggling her three packs of chocolate and the two slushies with ease and speed walks to the register.
I like Reese’s . That declaration plays over in my mind.
Because from her tone, it’s pretty clear she wasn’t just talking about the peanut butter and chocolate cup.
I like Reese’s sounded a hell of a lot like I like you.