Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Austin
I laughed at the anecdote and watched the exchange between my mother and Randall.
It was clear they had been close; she was so relaxed around him, so much herself and not the sharp corporate woman I knew she generally was with people who weren’t her family or close friends.
It was just another reminder of Randall’s shared history with my mom and dad.
Unlike my dad, who was easygoing and clueless in the most wonderful ways, my mom could sense a secret a mile away, so I tried to rein in any feelings I might be having for the man in the Clark Kent glasses, emerging from the steamy bathroom in his college T-shirt and perfectly cut jeans.
A glimpse into the room confirmed that he’d taken his shaving kit in with him.
He must have found the items I had impulsively stowed in there while he was busy pulling his sheets and that shirt he was wearing from his dryer, earlier in the day.
It was so weird being home, being here with him.
Our time out of time in his dream-like cabin seemed so long ago, even as the feelings and sensations, hell, even the sound of the wind and the pop of the electricity, were still playing through my mind, like I was in the middle of them right then and there.
I looked from my relaxed mom to Randall, who, on the other hand, exuded tension. I had a feeling that was more about me than Mom.
We headed for the stairs, Mom leading the way, laughing at the memory. Randall walked past me to follow her.
“ET, huh?” I whispered as he brushed by me. It was going to be a real problem, being in close proximity to Randall over the course of the week, but maybe a little teasing would distract me.
He paused, allowing Mom to get about halfway down the stairs. “Coming out of your mouth, that’s worse than ‘Randy.’ Please don’t ever say it again.”
I followed behind the old college friends and raised my voice for all to hear. “Cute story, Mom. ‘ET, phone home,’” I croaked. From the bottom of the stairs, Mom looked over Randall’s shoulder to give me a weird look.
Randall turned after he reached the bottom step to scowl at me as Mom made her way to the kitchen.
“Definitely …” I said, loud enough for her to hear, “... putting that down as embarrassing story number one.” We walked together through the kitchen, which led to our family room, a counter between them opening the two rooms up to each other.
I leaned toward him as we walked, and he took a sidestep away from me with another scowl.
“So that’s why Dad was Special Agent Lessand?”
“Indeed,” he said, and it was so fucking British that I wanted to grab him by the hand and drag him back the other way, where a more formal living room, with a fresh-cut, lit tree positioned in its bay windows, sat mostly unused on the other side of the stairs.
Not unused enough for Mom and Dad not to come find us when the pizza was delivered, though, so I refrained.
Christmas music was playing though the family room sound system, and I smirked at Randall as we entered the room.
A second Christmas tree stood in the corner.
The one in the living room was placed to be visible out the front window.
This was the one we decorated, the place where Santa had left me presents until I was too old for all that.
My parents had installed multicolored lights on this tree, but other than that, the tree was undressed.
“Wow!” my Dad said. “Blast from the past. Honey, check out Randy’s shirt.”
Mom had stopped in the kitchen and was uncorking a bottle of wine. “I’m totally jealous that shirt still fits him. Doesn’t he look great?”
“You really do, Randy. The years have been good to you. You have to tell me everything. Catch me up on your life since right around when your mom died. I can’t believe that’s the last time I saw you.
How long has it been? Jeez, it’s got to be at least twenty years.
Steph says your company was really successful, and you were bought out by New Day Tech.
And that you’re a VP? Creating apps and stuff. How cool is that?”
Shit, Randall was a vice president. I hadn’t known that. That put him at the same level as my mom. I knew how stressful Mom’s job was, and all of a sudden, I worried that I had distracted Randall from his job too much over the past few days.
I looked at my dad, with his big, inquisitive eyes and couldn’t help but chuckle.
I loved my dad. He’d said he wanted to hear about Randall’s life, then he asked so many questions in a row he didn't give the poor man a chance to answer a single one. I grabbed Randall’s forearm and leaned in as my dad prattled on. “Beer?”
He seemed to stiffen as he looked down at my hand.
He nodded curtly and answered, “Yes, please.” I had an instinct to lean in and kiss his cheek, and I realized that maybe he was right to be awkward at my touch.
Maybe all the touching and leaning weren’t my best ideas.
If only it didn’t all come so naturally.
I looked through the open counter to the kitchen just as my mom turned her attention to the wine she was pouring.
She may have caught our little exchange.
I walked around to the kitchen. “I’m gonna grab beers for Randall and me; should I get one for Dad, or is he sharing that bottle with you?” My mother didn’t answer me; she just stared at me for several awkward moments, like my brain was a filing cabinet she could sift through.
“What?” I finally felt the need to break the silence.
“Did you manage okay at Randall’s?”
“It was fine. Nice, even,” I ventured. “His home is beautiful, and even when we lost power, he had a generator and a fireplace, so we had heat and didn’t have to worry about the food spoiling. My phone and tablet never lost power, so I was able to keep myself entertained.”
An image of myself reflected in the floor-to-ceiling windows of Randall’s cabin came to mind as a much better way I had kept myself entertained.
I couldn't believe that thought flashed through my mind while I was standing in front of my mother. I could feel a blush rising up my cheeks, and my mother’s glare seeking out the file in my brain labeled “Snowed in at Randall’s. ”
I plowed through it. “His place is amazing. All lofts and vaulted ceilings and sweeping views. It was like spending two days in a fucking snow globe. Picture-perfect, snowy beauty.” My voice faded toward the end as I realized I was rambling, and as my mother’s laser focus narrowed even more.
I was going to have to work really hard to keep her from finding that top-secret file.
Step one, I needed to keep my distance from Randall.
Thankfully, my dad came to the rescue before Mom or I could continue our conversation. “Hey, kiddo. Order the pizza, will ya? Randy, you still a veggie man?”
For some reason, I waited with bated breath, like knowing Randall’s pizza toppings was of supreme importance.
“Oh. Don’t worry about me, I’m easy. Anything but anchovies!” Because of course, that was his answer. Accommodating to everyone except the rare anchovy lover.
“All right, kiddo, the usual it is.”
I frowned at my dad. “We usually get one pepperoni and one with sweet peppers and onions. Is that enough veggies for you, Randall? I can always add more if you’d like. Or do half and half.”
Randall’s smile was brighter than the Christmas tree in the corner of the room, whose multicolored lights were flashing in time to the music. I swear, my dad and his toys.
“I am still a veggie man. Pepper and onions sounds great. Thank you, Austin.”
I called, standing in the kitchen, and confirmed, “Forty minutes,” after I hung up. Mom put three beers on the counter in front of me and carried a tray of hors d'oeuvres and her glass of wine to the family room.
“You boys up for decorating the tree tonight? We waited for you.”
Mom sat next to Dad on the couch, leaning into him and tucking her legs up. Randall was in one of the matching armchairs. Instead of taking the neighboring chair, I went and sat on the far side of Mom and Dad on the couch.
From that distance, Randall risked a smile in my direction, then he looked at my parents. “Please don’t let me intrude. If you’d rather …”
“I’m gonna stop you right there, Randy. We invited you for Christmas so that you’d be here for Christmas. Christmas starts with decorating the tree. Tonight, if you’re both up for it.”
Randall nodded and smiled again, but I could sense the tension underneath it.
“After pizza,” I contributed. “I’m starving.”
“Agreed!” Dad exclaimed. “That should give us time for Randall to catch us up. I know about your company, and the merger, but what about your personal life? Any broken hearts back in England? Kids?” Dad was guileless in his inquisition.
I’d been staring mindlessly at the TV as it shared holiday music trivia, but I snapped my gaze to Randall with Dad’s question. I expected to find him even more tense and nervous than he had been, but instead, he looked serene, a soft smile on his face.
“No kids, Mart. But I was married. His name was David,” he said matter-of-factly before plowing on, leaving no time for my parents to respond.
“We were together for over fifteen years, but hindsight being twenty-twenty and all that, we were never really a good fit. I guess it’s best we never had any kids. ” He shrugged.
Randall crinkled his eyes at me before quickly darting them to look at my father, his countenance turning to worry.
“Well fuck, Randy. I’m sorry to hear that. Did he not want to move back to the States with you, or was it something else?”
Randall caught my eye quickly again and smiled, letting out a sigh before focusing on Dad and responding. “It was quite the other way around, actually. I caught him cheating and decided after that to take my company up on the offer to return to the States.”
“Shit, Randy. That sucks.”
“I’m sorry, Randy,” my mother added. “You deserve better than that.”