Chapter 19 Rachel
Currently Playing: Open Your Eyes by Snow Patrol
***
I loved Adam’s house in the morning.
It was great last night, especially when I asked where Myrtle would have a little cozy warm spot in his kitchen, and he provided me with this perfect little corner cabinet. But this morning was wonderful too.
Waking up to a note on the counter that said Going on a run. Coffee is ready. Just hit button was super cute. As if the man thought I didn’t know how to work a Keurig. Either way, I tucked away his little note as a reminder to leave him one later. To lock house, key goes in deadbolt and turns. It would probably tick him off, but I liked doing that to him here and there. It usually made this one vein in his temple pop out. I saw it very rarely, like an old friend saying hello.
My hands reached to pull Myrtle out of her cozy cabinet. Behind her were her favorite flour and a bottle of whiskey that cast a soft golden glow against the glass of her jar.
“Good morning, my dear. You are looking bubbly and full.”
I gently set her on the counter and reached for a mixing bowl, which was one of the first things Adam showed me in his kitchen, as if he knew it was the first thing I would be grabbing this morning.
Taking a half cup measurement, I scooped half of the mixture into the bowl and immediately grabbed the unbleached flour stowed next to the whiskey.
Mid-feeding, Adam opened his back door, walking in with a bare, panting chest, his mix of floral and nautical tattoos staring at me. I think the siren/mermaid one sent a wink my way. My whisk-holding hand jolted to a stop as I appreciated the view in front of me.
Tall, tan skin peppered with art like a doughnut covered in the most decadent sprinkles. He must have left in his T-shirt but gotten overheated on his run, because the almost-see-through white material was now hanging across his neck, leaving nothing but bare exposed chest muscles flashing my way. I said a quick prayer. Thank you, God, for the most recent heat wave coming through our town. I know I complained the other day when my leather seats burned my legs, but I take it all back now.
“Are you making something?” his voice cut in, but that deep, gravelly tone wasn’t enough to yank my gaze from his body. My eyes were stuck on the spattered designs that started around his left pec and reached to the top of his shoulder. A couple of words in cursive here and there, an angel near his belly button, a few others I probably should have known but my brain was doing that thing where it spaced out and everything goes blurry.
“Rachel.” He checked in with a hint of concern.
“Yes?” I answered his left pec. “Discard bagels. Maybe some blue…berry.” My voice drifted away like a fairy in the wind. I might as well have been on another planet.
Adam took a few steps toward me. I took a couple of steps back, not trusting my hands not to reach out and touch. I had seen the man shirtless, of course—nothing too new there—but those times were…different. This felt like I was allowed to stare unashamedly, and believe me, I did.
My back hit the countertop, the handle of the drawer digging into my behind. I leaned back as Adam stepped one foot closer.
My chest fluttered and my breathing kicked up a notch. Was he going to kiss me?
Once again, been there, done that. But still, that was before I had this ring on my finger. Now, if he kissed me, it would mean a whole lot more than two friends who were clearly attracted to each other. This ring made things dangerous. It would change everything if we weren’t careful. Layla was right. This was just like The Lord of the Rings.
He had me backed into a corner, literally, with nowhere to go. His eyes smoldered, dipping down to my pink striped pajamas and back up, a dark cascade of brown and green mixed like the coziest forest. Oh gosh, he was definitely going to kiss me.
I thought so until his eyes shifted above my face and to the cabinet above me.
Looking back down at me, he lowered his brows in confusion before he tilted his chin up. “Need a glass,” he rumbled off in the distance. Or it felt distant, considering all I could do was stare at his chest tattoos.
I cleared my throat and took a step to the left, letting him into the cabinet. He reached for a glass, a real glass and not one of the 1990s collectible Winnie the Pooh glasses that filled my cabinets. He filled up his glass with water and threw it down, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the process.
Right. This was his house. His kitchen and his place to roam shirtless. I was sure he didn’t want me taking over the place and ogling him like this was some kind of reverse Hooters.
I grabbed my mug, thankful I considered the pink one with white flowers to be an essential because the plain black ceramic mugs in Adam’s house didn’t fit with my pj’s or my aesthetic.
“So I was going to see my dad today.” I drank a sip of coffee and took my seat at his island.
Adam nodded, his back turned toward me as he made his own coffee.
“He’ll like that. Are you going to tell him about…”
“Us being married? I figured I should. The ring would confuse him, and the workers will find out soon enough, so it’s best if he heard it from me. If I handle it right, he should be fine.”
Dad liked Adam. Well, more like loved him. He asked about him almost every time I visited and usually several times during my visit if he didn’t remember my answers. He also said he would need to join us for Thanksgiving this year. So as far as sons-in-law go, he was far from the worst guy my dad could get. And there was a chance he wouldn’t remember.
My dad usually remembered past experiences best. He could recall his military days or even my childhood like they were yesterday. His detailed stories about him and my mom on their honeymoon were bittersweet to sit through. But the more recent memories, within the last seven years or so, were where he got the most confused. If I wasn’t careful, I would have to explain Adam being my husband at least ten times.
But then again, this was temporary. Just enough to get us both back on our feet and settled comfortably. A guy like Adam, traveling constantly and busy being what I assumed was Philadelphia’s most eligible bachelor, wasn’t going to want to be tied down forever. And neither was I. Mostly. The whole drinking coffee shirtless in his kitchen had potential to change that.
Adam paused for a moment, taking a sip of his coffee before leaning his back against the countertop. “Do you want me to come with you?”
I considered it for a moment and tossed the idea of going alone or with Adam back and forth before settling. Even if he didn’t stay inside of Dad’s house when I told him, it would be nice knowing there was support outside or in the car.
So I straightened my back and smiled. I wrapped my hands around the warm mug and pulled it close to me, its heat spreading through my fingers and into my chest. “That would be amazing, actually. He likes you a lot, so it might help more than hurt.”
Adam nodded and drank his coffee with me in comfortable silence, basking in the glow of the morning sun peeking through his windows. My first full day here, and yet I was already dreading its end. Already wanting to plant my roots and watch them grow.
When we pulled into the assisted living community, I unbuckled my seat belt and faced Adam. “Remember, he might get confused and lash out. It’s not because he’s mad or doesn’t—”
“Rachel,” Adam interrupted before sticking his hand out to lightly grasp my wrist in the most delicate touch. Funny how a man so large and in control could be so gentle. “You do this every time. I know how this goes. Don’t apologize. I like your dad.”
That confirmation alone settled my steady heart rate, and the warmth wrapping around my wrist from his calloused hand wasn’t hurting either.
I nodded and stepped out of the car, coming around to the driver’s side where Adam was. I’d made sure to text Dad earlier that I was visiting and that Adam would be coming too. He responded with I’ve got Fleetwood Mac going. Come on in when you get here. Which made me smile to no end, causing Adam to ask what he said. When I showed him, Adam, let out the tiniest smile and made a comment under his breath about his nickname for me, Stevie.
It had to be a good day today, considering I didn’t get any kind of heads-up from his nurse after his morning check-in. Not to mention he answered me clearly and quickly. That would make this process smoother, at least.
Adam reached a hand out, locking our fingers together. I looked up at him. He wasn’t smiling or frowning. But he wore this reassuring expression, his eyes making sure I knew it was going to be okay. The tightened squeeze he pulsed through his fingers to mine steadied that reassurance. I nodded. He nodded back.
A silent agreement between partners that no matter what happened, we had each other. And in times like these, I was incredibly grateful for that.
Dad told us to walk right in, but no matter how often he said that, I could never bring myself to actually do it. So I knocked and waited patiently as Dad shouted, “I am not buying another one of those damn cookie dough boxes from your grandson, so keep on moving, Brenda. If he wants to go to space camp so bad, then tell him to build a rocket to get there.”
Adam snorted beside me, and I covered my twisted mouth with my hand before elbowing his side. “It’s us, Dad!” I shouted back.
Two seconds later, the door was open wide with my father on the other. He was in his typical khakis and Phillies baseball tee, with a splitting grin across his face. “There’s my girl.”
He reached out to envelop me in a hug, wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me tight. I pulled back and let him and Adam shake hands. They both nodded to each other, my dad smiling up at him before he opened the door wider to let us in.
His place was always so well kept. It reminded me of Adam’s. I guess military habits died hard and whatnot, but still. Dad’s house was basic. It was one of the smaller units, since the bigger ones were meant for couples or if someone had a family member staying with them. But all he needed was the standard two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small living room and kitchen, and a tiny office space in the corner. It was enough to keep him from feeling cramped, but not so much that he lost track of his things and got easily confused.
Before I’d gotten him settled in here, I’d come in with extra details to make his life easier. Label makers, extra signs, etc. Anything that seemed to cause added confusion in his life, I labeled. From marking where his toiletries go to adding a flippable switch on the dishwasher that said clean or dirty. I wanted anything that was going to make his life easier and happier.
He was still going to get lost. He was still going to have bad days and lash out. I knew that. But if any part of me could lighten that load when I couldn’t physically be here, I did it.
He wasn’t lying before about having Fleetwood Mac ready to go. In the far corner on his desk sat his record player, pouring out the Rumors album. His personal favorite and mine.
I smiled and sank into his comfortable couch as he handed Adam and me both a glass of lemonade. We thanked him and leaned against the back cushion, our knees inches apart.
“So…” I started. “Did you have a good day yesterday?” I asked as Dad relaxed in his recliner on the other side of the coffee table.
“Yup, yup.” He clicked his teeth and tapped his foot to the beat, like he couldn’t help himself. “Didn’t get much done. Wish I’d gone to Marlo’s or something.”
I smiled and played along, despite knowing he hadn’t been to Marlo’s doughnuts in years. Mostly because he didn’t have a car to drive and the Uber app was confusing to him on most occasions. But I brought them to him regularly, so I made a mental note to grab him an apple cider doughnut the next time I visited. Layla had brought him one way back when she first met him, and out of all of the things he could hook on to for a memory, it had to be that doughnut.
“They are the best. So, Dad, actually, Adam and I came here to talk to you about something.”
Dad’s eyebrows raised across from me, his head tilting as he glanced back and forth between us. How was I supposed to explain this? I couldn’t openly say Hey, Daddio, we drank too much and got married, and instead of simply getting an annulment, we decided to reap the rewards and basically steal from our government.
I sucked in a deep breath as Adam’s hand slipped behind me, rubbing slow circles on my back. It was fine. It was going to be fine.
“We decided to get married.” An anxious smile played on my face as I lifted my left hand to flash my ring his way.
I watched his reaction in detail, waiting for any hint of emotion. Instead, his eyes traced my ring, like he was physically wrapping his brain around it. The corner of his lips pulled into a slow smirk, his smile line wrinkling and his eyes starting to scrunch at the corners. Then he let out a single, low “ha.” He lifted a hand to Adam and shook his pointer finger at him. “You took longer than I thought.”
My head swiveled to Adam beside me. A flush was starting at the base of his neck and reaching up to his scruffy chin, then disappearing behind his beard.
I shook my head. “Well, it’s a bit sudden, I know—”
Dad scoffed loudly before sipping his own lemonade. “Sudden,” he mocked. “Yeah, right.”
Adam looked over to me and widened his eyes, as if to say he had no idea what he meant, and I leaned back against his hand in encouragement.
Well, he was still confused. But it wasn’t the frustrated kind of confused or mad, lashing out kind of confused. So I would take it.
Dad stood from his recliner. “Well, come on. Give me a hug.” He reached his arms out, so Adam and I stood.
I walked toward him with open arms, but Dad bypassed me and went straight to Adam, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing tight. “’Bout time, son.”
Adam wrapped a single arm around his back, patting him once. He nodded my way with a wink and mumbled a quick “yes, sir.” My heart soared at the small interaction. He didn’t understand how much playing along meant to me, but maybe one day I’d find a way to do the same for him. I smiled at Adam behind Dad’s back and mouthed a thank-you with a wink right back.
Turning to me, my father reached over and hugged me next before lifting my ring to his eyes. The light caught on the oval diamond and danced around my finger as he moved it left to right. “Ah, he did good, huh?” He looked over his shoulder at Adam. “I told him a princess cut was perfect for Little Miss Royalty over here.”
My heart dropped ever so slightly. It felt like I was lying straight to his face. We hadn’t had some big proposal. Adam hadn’t asked my dad for permission beforehand. We didn’t even have any of our family at the wedding itself. Nothing about this was traditional or what I’d dreamed up as a little girl, and my dad had no idea. He was in his own world, and even if that world made him happy, it broke my heart to not have him on this planet with me. It was selfish, but I didn’t care. I was angry at the universe for taking someone so incredible and throwing them into a pit of confusion.
Sensing the cracks in my heart, Adam spoke up. “It fits her perfectly. You were completely right.” He nodded to my dad, quick and short. “I’m glad I listened to you.”
This man. Oh, this wonderful man that was better than a best friend. Better than I ever deserved and yet kept coming back again, over and over. He was such a light. Not the normal, flip-of-a-switch bright light that hurt your eyes when you entered the room. But he was this slow dimmer switch. With each day, with each action, he slowly brightened your life, and before you knew it, the whole room around you would be blanketed in a warm glow.
I smiled at him, feeling my body relax, piece by piece, down all the way to my toes. My thumb swirled my ring back and forth around my ring finger, and I bit my lip.
Dad went to sit back down. “Marriage is a beautiful thing. Not good for a man to be alone. God himself said so. He looked at man and said he needed something, so he made woman. And with that comes companionship and trust. It’s hard, more days than not, but it will be worth it.”
Fortunately, my dad mostly remembered the good days of his marriage. So he couldn’t recollect my mother and sister both walking out on us when times got tough. Therefore, of course, to him, marriage was a beautiful thing.
“Keep in mind that love is a choice. One you have to choose daily. Do that and you two will be just fine.” He nodded.
I looked over at Adam and smiled. No, we weren’t in love. Well, at least not in the way my father was assuming. But I did think there was some form of love between us. It was just foggy on what kind or how it applied. Regardless, I knew that Adam was pivotal to my joy, and that meant I’d keep him around a little longer.
Dad cleared his throat. “Now, all of that being said, I’d like some grandkids here soon, so if you two could hop on that.”
“Oh, I. Hmm. Well.” I snorted at Adam’s stuttering state, the way the pink of his cheeks deepened into red.
This had gone far, far better than I could have imagined.