Chapter 25 Ball Cocks and Middle Fingers
ball cocks and middle fingers
Rowan - now
Hannah spins the pizza box and pulls back the lid. “My treat.”
I glare at the food, then at her. She’s lucky she’s so cute.
“One time. This happens one time and never again,” I retort, pointing at the meal I didn’t pay for. The one she ordered while I was in the bathroom so I couldn’t fight her over the bill.
It’s late afternoon now, and we haven’t stopped talking.
And laughing. And flirting. And touching.
Me, brushing a hand over her lower back when she passes by.
Her, poking my ribs when she teases me. Me, massaging her shoulders when I catch her rubbing a sore spot on her neck.
Her, clearing a splatter of paint from my cheeks.
“Oh calm down, soldier. I owe you like three hundred dollars from that night.”
I swallow down a bite. “A, you don’t owe me anything. Two, even if you did, the past five years more than makes up for it. And D, stop it.” I toss the crust into the box only for her to swipe it for herself.
“Okay, A, I heard your Home Alone reference and I approve this message.” My lips lift. “Two, I didn’t spend time with Norm to even the score, and it’s really important to me you know that. And D, you’re not the boss of me.”
Hannah smiles like she’s up to no good, pizza crust hanging halfway out of her mouth. I want to kiss that mouth.
“I really hope you were this much of a smartass with Pops.”
She polishes her nails on her chest. “He got some of my best work. Your nana may have been the love of his life, but he and I were made for each other. Remember, I called that on day one.”
My heart clenches, face softening. “How could I forget?”
Our eyes catch and we’re back on that dock. Her hand in mine like tomorrow isn’t a factor and we’re staring up at the stars silently wondering how the hell any of this happened.
She swallows. “How was the funeral? I wish I could have been there.”
My brows knit together as I process her question. “Oh…um…I—I didn’t—”
“You didn’t know I was spending time with him. I’m not blaming you for not inviting me. I promise.”
“No, it’s not that.” I shove a hand through my hair. “I…uh…there wasn’t a funeral.”
Her face falls, and she looks so disappointed it obliterates me. “Oh, can I ask why?”
“Well, I kind of thought he would’ve hated the idea, and I didn’t know of anybody that would show up if I planned one.”
When the funeral home asked about a possible memorial service, all I could picture was me, alone, standing in front of his flag-draped coffin. The image made my stomach churn.
“I just planned to scatter his ashes in the lake before I head back home.”
Hannah nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, I get it.” The look on her face says she doesn’t.
She excuses herself to the bathroom before I can pry her thoughts free. When she finds me in the kitchen a few minutes later, her presence in the doorway stops me in my tracks.
Hands fidgeting at her sides, her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy. It’s the earnestness in her gaze that damn near breaks my heart though.
“Rowan?” My name rolls off her tongue, a question I’m already willing to say yes to.
“Yeah?” Ask me anything.
“Will you go with me somewhere tomorrow?”
“Of course. Where do you wanna go?”
She wrings her hands at her waist. “It’s a surprise. I really wanna show you something.”
Before I can ask for more details, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I hit Hannah with a look that says we aren’t finished and glance down at my screen.
Dubs.
“Sorry, I gotta take this.”
Hannah waves me off and heads to the dining room to get started on the second coat. I tap to accept the FaceTime call.
In typical Dubs fashion, he’s mid-sentence before I say hello.
“Fixed your ball cock,” he announces. No greeting. No warning. Just…ball cock.
Hannah appears beyond the screen, upper body leaning past the doorjamb like a floating head. Forehead crinkling, she mouths, “Ball cock?”
I count to three in my head, summoning the energy for this conversation.
“Shaw! You hear me? Your ball cock. I fixed it.”
“Yes, Dubs,” I exhale. “I heard you.”
“Why are you still saying these words?” Bri chimes in off camera.
“Don’t mind Bridge. She’s struggling to come to terms with her feelings for me.”
The stepsister in question sidles up next to him looking like she’s got no gas left in her tank while Dubs sports his trademark shit-eating grin.
I bite back a laugh. “Okay, tell me what’s—”
“Tell you about your ball cock? Thought you’d never ask,” he interjects. Hannah snorts from the dining room. “It was defective. Toilet runs like a dream now. You’re welcome.”
Bri rolls her eyes. “Seriously, who named it that?”
Dubs turns to her. “My goddamn hero, that’s who. A legend. Show some respect.”
Hannah slaps a hand over her mouth in the next room, body shaking with quiet laughter.
“Yes, let’s give a Nobel Prize to the man who named a mechanism designed for human waste disposal after his own genitalia,” Bri says, sarcasm thick.
“Listen, babe. I can call it testiclepenis if that’s really what you want, but you and I both know that’s worse.”
I’m not even here anymore. Bri rubs her temples, teeth grinding. I imagine her clicking her heels together wishing she could be literally anywhere else.
Meanwhile, Hannah’s dying.
“Yes, Rowan,” Bri says, fully composed, nostrils flared. “What you’ve heard is true. Chuck fixed the toilet and thusly called you to collect his atta boy.”
“What can I say, B? Words of affirmation is my love language. You’re gonna need to practice some praise.”
Bri doesn’t look at him. Just lifts a hand—her middle finger to be exact—and casually scratches her cheek. Dubs has stars in his eyes.
“Thank you, Dubs,” I offer, bringing the conversation back to center.
“You’re welcome, man. Means a lot.”
“How are things there?” I ask.
My stepsister’s face warms. “Good. Tess had her best day at PT yet yesterday. Her therapist is recommending we circle back to Doctor Ward to discuss the next surgery.”
Hannah’s in the doorway now, leaning against the frame, watching me with a hopeful expression. My eyes meet hers for only a second but it’s enough to relieve the pressure against my ribs.
“We have an appointment next week,” Bri continues.
“That’s great.” My eyes dart to Hannah again, then back to my phone. “Give her a hug for me.”
Dubs’ eyes shrink, head tilted. Dammit. “Whatcha keep looking at there, Shaw?”
I push my tongue against my cheek but don’t say a word. The tiniest shake of my head is the only confirmation he needs before he smiles so big I think his face might explode.
“I’ll be damned, my boy isn’t there alone,” he exclaims, too smug and way too invested.
Bri perks up and pushes in closer to the camera. I snap an apologetic glance to Hannah who’s laughing again.
“Who is she? I swear to God, Rowan, if you pretend there’s not a woman on the other side of your phone I will be on the next plane to light your pants on fire myself.”
The woman in question crosses the kitchen, brows lifted in question, silently asking if I want her to show herself. Little does she know, I’d show her off every chance I get if she was mine. Right now it feels like she is.
I reach for her hand and tug her to my side before curling an arm around her waist.
She waves shyly, mumbling a soft “Hi.”
“Bri, Dubs, this is Hannah. Hannah this is my stepsister, Bridget Evans, and my best friend, Walker Willis.”
Bri offers a cordial greeting. When it’s Dubs’ turn, he tips his ball cap with a polite “Ma’am.”
Like everyone who meets him for the first time, Hannah’s confused. His brown skin paired with the Texas cowboy persona is a paradox of the oddest sort.
“Does your accent have an on-off switch or something?” Bri grimaces, barely sparing him a sideways look.
“Honey Bunch, I’m a Boricua raised in Texas. A walking coat of many colors. Can’t help it if my southern charm comes out when I meet a beautiful woman.”
Dubs winks at Hannah. It’s innocent, but God help me, I tighten my grip on Hannah anyway. He clocks it, folding a hand over his arrogant grin.
Hannah doesn’t miss a beat. “I’m assuming you guys served together.”
“75th Ranger Regiment,” Dubs responds.
The girl in my arms rolls her tongue over her teeth. She catches Bri’s eyes and something beautifully wicked flickers between them.
Bri retreats a step until only her head is visible over my friend’s shoulder, a real life Polly the Parrot. Her sage nod aimed at Hannah has me on the brink. I tuck my cheek against the back of her head.
“Say what you wanna say, Hannah Banana,” Dubs commands.
I could have walked to the lake house and back by the time she finally speaks. “So…Walker…from Texas…is a Ranger.”
My stepsister elbows her way back in front, shoves Dubs back. “Marry her.”
Hannah and Bri laugh softly but I’m looking at my friend. His eyes turn sharp, smug little smirk in place.
“Yeeeaaahhh, a wedding. That sounds…nice,” Dubs drawls. “Tell me, Hannah, do you—”
“Dubs,” I warn.
He ignores me. Just smiles wider as Hannah cocks her head, welcoming whatever inquisition is coming.
“Any chance you own a wedding dress, Hannah?” he asks.
Everything goes quiet for one…two…three seconds. I’m actively thinking of how I can jump through this phone and punch my friend in the face until…
Hannah’s feral grin blooms, eyes crinkling at the corners. “That old thing? Nah, it got ripped to shreds five years ago.”
Dubs howls in glee, the screen going blurry as he does a diabolical happy dance and sprints down the hall.
I squeeze Hannah’s hip, whispering a soft apology in her ear while we wait for my friend to pull himself together.
She turns, our faces inches apart. Soft hazel eyes dip to my mouth. Her teeth graze her bottom lip. “You talked about me, huh?”
Her gaze locks on mine. And it’s right there. The time to lean in, to take what I’ve wanted since the moment I laid eyes on her. To taste the strawberry chapstick on her lips she’s reapplied a dozen times. To throw this phone down and pull her body flush against me.
“Tess! Tess!” My friend’s voice breaks the moment and I look back at the screen. Hannah adds an inch of space between us, but I hate it and immediately pull her back.
Dubs continues to shout my mom’s name, screen jostling as he ambles through the house. I see walls in motion, a bedroom door, then an abstract lopsided shot of our living room rug.
Hannah snorts at the chaos. I lower the phone so we’re alone, press my mouth against the shell of her ear. She sucks in a breath.
“Do I have permission to kiss you?” Her head swivels a bit, my lips now dragging over her temple. I trace the request against her skin. “When the time is right, will you let me kiss you?”
She turns a little more. Goosebumps break out down her neck, breaths slow and heavy as she leans into me. Eyes closed, her reply comes out on a hot puff of air as she whispers, “Who decides when the time is right?”
Dubs shouts through the phone, “Shaw! Come back here. Your mom wants to talk to you!”
I take my time and sweep a few wisps of hair crisp with dried paint behind her ear. “I do.”
My hand lowers back to her waist, squeezing it once before I smooth on Mom’s favorite smile and lift the phone.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, deceptively unaffected by the woman next to me whose skin is flushed, radiating heat. “This is Hannah. Hannah, this is my mom, Tess.”
“Hannah,” Mom coos. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
She clears her throat behind a closed fist, the corner of her lips quirked the tiniest bit. The quick sidelong glare she throws me is a promise for payback later. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Rowan, honey, did Walker tell you he fixed the ball cock?”
Speak of the devil plops down on the couch beside her.
“He did,” I say.
Dubs smiles. “At least someone appreciates my ball-cock skills, right, Tess?”
Bri mumbles something unintelligible in the background.
“Sorry, everyone. Testiclepenis skills,” my friend corrects. Mom snickers.
My stepsister lobs another middle finger from the kitchen. Dubs throws one of his own over his shoulder. “Love you too, London Bridge.”
“Loathe you most, Chuck,” she volleys, this time with a grin she thinks we don’t see from here.
“Shhh,” Dubs whispers, face moving in closer. “Don’t scare it away. And, Shaw, totally unrelated, but you wanna go ahead and give me your marital blessing now or…”
“Children,” Mom pipes in. “Anyway”—she fixes her attention on us—“how’d you two meet?”
Hannah and I trade twin grimaces that send us both into a full-bellied laugh.
“Mom, that’s a long…”
“…weird,” Hannah adds.
“…kind of crazy…” I tack on.
“You know what,” Dubs interrupts. “I’ll tell you the story later, Two Point. These idiots can’t form a sentence, apparently.”
I heave a sigh, drag a hand down my face. “What the hell is Two Point?”
He stares at me, sighs, then points at himself. “Walker Willis.” At Mom. “Wonder Woman.” Back at himself. “Dubs.” At Mom again. “Dubs 2.0.” I blink slowly, meeting Bri’s low-lidded eyes behind him. “Two Point.”
“I mean,” Hannah starts, head falling side to side in consideration. “A for effort.”
Mom pinches Dubs’ cheek. “And a gold star for charm.”
Then Bri, “And detention for annoyance,” as she bounces into the seat on Dubs’ other side.
Mom angles the screen to fit all three of them in the shot, and I’m hit with a wave of contentment I never saw coming. Things remain uncertain. I don’t know what these next two weeks and beyond hold. But in this moment, even if it’s only temporary, I know I’m surrounded by my people.
And the girl in my arms on this side of the screen is quickly becoming my favorite one of all.