35-Lily
“We finally made it to the bed.” Julian lays over me and drops kisses on my neck and shoulders. “It took us longer than I planned.”
“You had a plan?”
“To slowly take your clothes off,” he says.
“That didn’t happen.” We hurriedly pulled them off each other, letting them fall into a pile on the floor.
“Then kiss you everywhere.” Julian moves, dropping more kisses on my throat and then in the valley between my breasts.
“You’re doing that now.”
“Then slowly make love to you,” he says.
“We didn’t manage that either.” Instead, I climbed onto his lap, and we fucked. It was fast and desperate, with him pumping into me. It was sloppy kisses and rough touches.
“Well, I can’t say we didn’t try.” Julian moves, positioning his body over mine.
“We didn’t try at all.”
∞∞∞
“How can you drink iced coffee?”
I slurp through the straw. “Because it’s delicious.” Julian’s incredulous expression makes me laugh enough to snort into the straw. “Do you want some?”
“I like it the healthy way. Black and bitter.”
“That’s just you showing off.” I lean across the door’s threshold to check on Boone’s office. “They’re still in there.”
“Probably discussing my fate. Will your father demand a blood sacrifice, or will they allow me to leave with dignity?” For all Julian’s words, he’s remarkably unconcerned.
“I still don’t understand why you made that offer. It’s your career.”
“Calculated risks are part of my career.”
“It was dumb.”
“Calculated risk.”
“Dumb. Don’t ever do it again.” Muttered voices trickle down the hall, and I check one more time. “They’re out.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” This isn’t the first time Julian argued this was his responsibility. His palpable discomfort is appreciated, but it’s also unnecessary. “It’s my screwup, not yours.”
I cock my head to the side. “He’s my father, and frankly, I’m a little annoyed with you both.”
“But him more than me, right?”
“Both of you in equal measure,” I shoot back. “Be back shortly.”
It’s my typical day off from summer camp, and rather than spend it home alone, I came with Julian to the office. It’s a chance to check in with my father and spend time with Julian.
Dad’s open door makes it easy. “Coffee?” I set a fresh cup on his desk. “Hardly any sugar and a ton of cream.”
“You didn’t come home last night.”
“I was with Julian.”
“Did he tell you what happened?”
“Yes, every part, and I believe his version. Nothing happened, Dad.”
“You can’t know that.”
When Julian told me what happened, there was a very brief moment when I believed the absolute worst. My mind always goes to the worst possibilities, no matter how hard I try to stop it. Then, the rational part, the part not consumed by anxiety and self-doubt, stepped in. Julian and I became each other’s person more than a year ago, and we’ve been in a serious relationship for a few months now. At this point, I know him better than anyone, including his family and coworkers. If anything happened, I would know.
“I know, Dad. He’s a good man who loves me. Julian has witnessed my meltdowns and anxiety attacks. He’s researched my medication. Julian is a good man, Dad, and he loves me. He also deserves your trust.”
My parents were well into their forties when I was born, and Pete Webb is showing his age more and more. A lifetime in the sun, combined with raising a daughter like me on his own, can wear at the strongest people. His wrinkles are deeper than even a year ago. His white hair is thinner, too.
“Do you remember when I was little, and you’d take me along to the races?”
He lifts his hat and drops it back into place. “You never enjoyed them, did you? It was rough on you, I know. It was difficult finding someone I trusted enough to watch you.”
“I hid in the trailers, keeping myself entertained as best as possible.” My grandparents helped a little until they could no longer do so. They’ve been dead so long; all that I have are a few very faint memories. There were babysitters, too, college-aged women my dad paid to help watch me on the weekends. “Race tracks were loud and busy. You became this important man, and you were under stress. I used to worry that something would happen, like a car running over you or a big fight.”
“That never happened,” he says, trying to reassure me. “The tracks are designed for safety.”
“No, but I still worried. It’s hard not to worry. I’m also not afraid of race tracks or the ocean anymore. I’m not afraid of my future either, and we both know that wasn’t true a year ago.”
Dad’s eyes brighten. “There’s still a job here, Lily Flower. There’s no reason to worry about that.”
“I’m going to work with kids like me. NASCAR and motorsports are your calling, not mine. I’ll go to races to cheer on Julian and everyone else I care about, but that’s it. I’d rather fail than not try.”
“Yes, but-“
What was it Julian said? There is no ‘but.’ “There’s someone to catch me if I fall.”
Dad removes his worn trucker hat, placing it on the desk rather than back on his head. His features soften, and pain appears. “I used to say that to your mother.”
“What?” We rarely talk about her. Growing up, I always wondered what it would be like if she were around. “Julian says that to me.”
“She was like you, Lily. She’d spend half the day reorganizing the junk drawer and then get upset because the dishes weren’t finished. We had a cordless home phone, which would always go missing. I used to go ask our neighbors to call us so we could find it. She’d worry over everything, like whether dinner was burnt or getting a movie start time wrong. She called it her nervous personality.”
My phone was missing, too. I also don’t use Bluetooth earbuds after losing my third pair. “I never knew that.” It’s difficult to miss what you never had, but sometimes I wondered if having a mother growing up would have meant an easier childhood or if she’d help me understand how to get better. It’s been me muddling along and figuring out how to get better on my own. Julian’s comment two years ago was the spark for medication. Would I have started earlier if she was around? It doesn’t matter because all I can do is go forward. Dr. Lambert has repeatedly said all I can do is solve the problems before me, and I’m slowly realizing how true that is. “Well, it should be why you understand Julian and I fit so well together.”
“Lily, Julian Murphy isn’t the sort of man you can expect the devotion you deserve. If you knew his history more, you’d understand. I loved your mother more than I have words to express. Be careful with him. I don’t want you to be hurt.”
“He’s not the one hurting me, Dad.” You are.
“I love Lily more than there are words to express.”
I jump at the sound behind me. “When did you get here?” More, how much of the conversation did he hear?
“Long enough.” Julian’s attention stays on Pete. “Lily and I aren’t married. Yet.” That snaps me to attention. “I fall asleep thinking of her and wake up thinking of her. You were probably the same with your wife. Racing and NASCAR are your calling in life, right? It’s exhausting and a commitment most will never understand, but you also ached from loneliness when she couldn’t be with you. We have that in common. I’ll bet she apologized for her struggles, didn’t she?” Dad looks away, which answers Julian’s question. “Every time, you explained how grateful you were that she trusted you enough to share.
“I’m in love with your daughter, Pete. She’s funny, brave, and curious about everything. We’re both better because she’s in our lives. We told you we were friends, and you might feel lied to, but it was the truth. We went to some movies and hiked through a nearby park once. We also got to know each other, and I fell in love. If you want to know when it started for me, I would say almost from the beginning, except I didn’t understand it for a long time. This is the first relationship for both of us, and we don’t have much experience. My parents’s marriage isn’t one to emulate, but it sounds like yours is. We belong together the same way you two did.”
“Dad?” My stomach is in knots. It’s for the best my hair is up to, or I’d be yanking strands right out of my scalp.
“Boone and I met this morning about a promise you once made to me,” he says to Julian, and now I have heart palpitations. “It’s our shared belief you should spend the rest of your career here, as I have.”
Relief fills me as I release some of the anger simmering in me. “Good. That means the dumb agreement between you two is officially voided.” My next statement is a leap. Oh, well. “We’ve eaten together as a family, only you and I, many times over the years. I’ve invited Julian to join us tonight because he’s my family, too.”
“I’m cooking,” Julian says.
Dad doesn’t immediately respond. “I’m looking forward to it,” he finally says.
Is my little family growing? Is that what this is?