Chapter 22
Shadow
When Fawnie said family dinner with Preacher and Rita, I expected the rambunctious vibes of five years ago.
Not that I participated very often. I liked to hide out in their basement back then.
I was healing, mostly. Physically, at least. I was such a mess mentally.
I’m still a mess, but at least I recognize the fact now.
Even though I lived in the shadows I wasn’t tagged with my club name for a good year, and by then, I wasn’t living here.
I’ve been back a few times, but never for dinner.
The table is new. Or old, but new to them.
I’m not good with antiques, but the grain is nice.
I’m guessing it came from Willa’s store.
It’s bigger than the table they had when I was here, but Justice and Stone aren’t little kids anymore.
It’s plenty big enough for six and we’re all sitting around it.
They have fancy matching chairs made with the same wood and black seats.
I thought we’d do something casual, but as soon as we got here, Preacher popped two massive trays of steaks out of the fridge and threw them on the grill.
Rita already had baked potatoes in the oven, and she made her special carrots with the lemon pepper parmesan cheese topping. Even the boys like those.
The fact that she remembered just how much I did, made my eyes hot as soon as we sat down at the table.
Preacher and Rita are on the ends, and the boys sit opposite of me and Fawnie. The table is a virtual buffet between us. The whole house still smells like baked potatoes.
Vanilla and coconuts too, because Fawnie dragged her chair over a few inches closer to mine when she thought no one was looking. It’s shocking how well the scent of dinner complements her. She’s sweet instead of savory, like dessert.
Fuck. I don’t want to start thinking about having her for dessert after we’re done here.
Rita made blueberry cheesecake, which was another favorite of mine.
When I first arrived, I wasn’t in the best place, and I know Rita tried her best to make me feel at home.
At times I was an ungrateful asshole. I’d not been used to kindness, and instead of gratitude, it just made me angry.
I’m lucky they didn’t kick me out on my ass, but it shows what good people they are.
Thinking about those times makes me feel immense guilt for everything I put them through.
I’ve told Preacher and Rita how thankful I am that they took me in at my lowest. But being the kindhearted people they are, they just brushed it off saying anyone would have done the same.
Seeing them now, heading the table with two teenage boys grown into good people despite being absolute menaces to society, I’m overwhelmed by an immense sense of gratitude.
Fawnie is comfortable, at ease, beautiful in a tight fitting pencil skirt with cherries all over it, and a black velvet blouse.
She has a velvet choker at her neck, a little diamond star winking from the hollow of her throat.
She went with heavy black eyeliner and red lips that have been driving me crazy since she picked me up.
From the second I slid into her car, I’ve had visions of taking her into the backseat and letting her ride me while I make a mess of her clothing, hair, and makeup.
Ravish her. Or… or not.
I’d like to take my time with her and be equally sweet and intimate. Do it right. Give her everything she deserves. Be gentle. Take care of her. Sure, it might start out hungry, but I want there to be more.
I want there to be more of a lot of things.
The table’s pretty quiet to start. The boys have no idea that we’re here for any special reason.
Preacher isn’t dumb. He’s been pretending this whole time that he has no clue about what Fawnie wants to say, but I know that’s not true.
Rita is Rita. She’s a smart lady, and I have no doubt that even at the symphony, she didn’t miss a damn thing.
Justice only takes a steak and tucks into it immediately. They’re thick, and Preacher cooked most of them rare. He swirls every piece of meat he cuts into the juices that bleed out of it, sopping it up.
Preacher stabbed a steak and put it on my plate for me, and Fawnie gave me two baked potatoes and a heaping spoonful of carrots.
Yeah. She filled my plate for me. If that’s not a dead giveaway of us being a fucking old married couple already, I don’t know what is.
I’m nervous as hell, but I don’t hate it.
I don’t hate any of this.
I never did.
The one thing I always wanted was a family.
But wanting something often hurts more for the fear of never fully having it.
Or having it and it being snatched away.
I’ve wasted so much time being afraid. I don’t want to do that anymore.
I don’t want to keep hiding my heart away, hoping things will get better for doing it.
They won’t. You can’t want love and then shove it away at every opportunity.
We’re five minutes into eating in virtual silence.
I know this house. I know these people. This isn’t how it usually goes.
Is there anyone in this house who doesn’t know what we’re going to say?
I feel like the air is heavy with expectation.
Fawnie sets down her fork. Under the table, her left hand finds my knee and gives it a gentle squeeze.
My heart leaps into my throat at her touch, but also because this is it.
We’re doing this. Out loud. Even if everyone already suspects.
I don’t know that they do for sure. With Fawnie sitting so close, looking beautiful as she always does, it’s pretty much only the nerves that keep me from popping a spontaneous boner.
Fawnie looks at Preacher, then at Rita, then back to her dad. “We’re… um- we- Shadow and I, we want you all to know that we’re dating. Or… more than friends. Trending to… a lot more than friends. Dating sounds silly.”
Stone’s head snaps up. Maybe he didn’t know what we were going to say or why I was here, or why I got here at the same time Fawnie did.
He has a mountain of food that he’s plowing his way through.
I have no idea how Rita and Preacher can afford to feed these two.
They went at their steaks like starved wolves as soon as they were put on their plates.
“Gross,” Stone says, but he grins at both of us.
“Obviously.” Justice cuts another piece of steak, chews once, swallows, and goes for another. Obviously as in, obviously we’re a thing. This isn’t news to him. Maybe obviously as in we’re obviously gross together too.
“Obviously?” Fawnie asks him carefully.
“You have heart eyes for Shadow twenty-four seven,” he explains like this is so boring. “No offense or anything. And he looks at you all sick and dopey. I get it. I have a girlfriend. She’s awesome. We like hanging out with each other. We’re friends. It’s good not to be alone.”
Yes. Yes, it’s so good not to be alone. Not to hide behind pretending that I have no feelings at all.
It’s good not to have to sit in my house, alone, letting my thoughts run wild.
It’s good that the most exciting thing in my life is no longer staring down the wall when I’m on my side, trying to fall asleep, and the highlight of my day is no longer working out, or riding my bike to work late at night.
It’s music.
It’s laughter.
It’s Fawnie.
It’s hope.
Stone doesn’t agree. He scrunches his nose at his brother.
“I still think it’s gross.” He looks around the table comically.
“All of you. Nasty. Dad’s always kissing Mom and hugging her and she’s always laughing and being goofy when he does.
You and Nora are gross too. It’s just one more person in the house to be disgusting. ”
“Grow up, Stone,” Justice says, but he’s grinning.
“You’re the one who said you were going to turn a guy into an asshole cyclops the other week.”
“You loved it.”
“So much better than heart eyes and kisses and all that garbage.”
“Is it really garbage?” Fawnie ventures, glancing between her stepbrothers.
“Whatever,” Stone huffs. “If you’re dating, then Shadow might come around more. That would be okay.”
Fuck, come on. All I’ve done is get all weepy lately. I am not going to do that here.
It’s almost nice that Preacher and Rita share a worried look with each other. That I can deal with. It’s the sappy stuff that I have no idea how to handle.
Fawnie has been watching Preacher carefully, and she catches that look too. “We don’t have unrealistic expectations,” she’s quick to explain. “We… want to move slowly.”
She removes her hand from my knee and sets it right on top of my hand. On the table. She threads our fingers together without a second of hesitation, and I swear, I’m going to be a puddle of goop here on this chair in a moment.
“Double gross,” Stone sighs.
I try not to laugh, but his comment helps lighten the situation.
“That’s not code for anything,” Fawnie responds, laughing. “We’d like to get to know each other. We want to be friends too. We’ll for sure come to dinner together. Or just to hang out. We’d like to go to more of the club’s events too. Cookouts and family days. Maybe even weekends.”
Preacher shoots me a look that says don’t you dare bring my daughter to the clubhouse on a Friday night.
Fawnie smiles at her dad. She hasn’t missed a single thing. “Alright, maybe not weekends for a while. But I’ve been wanting to go for a ride on Shadow’s bike. No one freak out if they see us doing that, okay?”
Preacher’s lips draw into a flat line, but that’s the last thing he can protest. “Be safe if you’re riding,” he mutters. “You absolutely have to wear the right gear, including a helmet. Every single time.” He swallows thickly and studies me.