Chapter 21 Dex
TWENTY-ONE
dex
“Where you been, man?” Justin asked, pedaling hard on the stationary bike.
“What are you talking about?” I slowed to a jog on the treadmill. “I see you at work every few days.”
“You haven’t come to the house since Labor Day. That was nearly a month ago.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Busy with your girlfriend?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” I kept my eyes straight ahead but knew exactly what look he was giving me.
“I thought things were going better since you took my advice and apologized.”
“Things are fine. She’s just not my girlfriend.”
Although from the outside, I could see how someone might think that.
I saw her every night I didn’t work or have the kids.
And even when I did have the kids, she often invited them over to paint nails or bake cookies, and we occasionally had her over for dinner.
If I had them on weekend mornings, we’d all go to her mom’s bakery, and once she gave them a tour of the kitchen there.
She fed Freddie Purrcury while I was at work, and I’d bring her a Frosty or a monkey bread muffin the next day to say thanks.
When the girls were around, we were excellent at keeping our hands to ourselves.
When we were alone, it was another story.
There probably wasn’t an inch on her body I hadn’t kissed, and she could say the same about mine.
But even when we weren’t naked, I loved being with her.
Sometimes she would say something that reminded me of how young she was, and I’d groan.
But I’d come to appreciate her youthful optimism and bright-eyed positivity—she saw the best in everything and everyone.
And I certainly enjoyed her boundless sexual energy.
Sometimes I felt so good around her, I’d find myself wishing things could be different with us . . . but I never let myself go too far down that path.
Maybe in another time, another place, Winnie and I could have been something more, but it was pointless to think about that now.
It was October first already—she’d be gone in a week.
Last weekend she’d taken a three-day trip to Rhode Island, during which she’d signed a lease for an apartment, met her boss and co-workers, and saw her new office. She’d loved the hotel as much as she thought she would, and was full of ideas for her new job.
I’d been without the kids and off work all three days she’d been gone, and all I’d done was fucking mope and check my phone for texts from her. I didn’t even want to think about what it was going to be like when she left for good.
“I’ve been busy with my kids,” I told Justin. “And coaching.”
“How’s that going?”
“I really like it.” I grinned ruefully. “Most of those cocky teenage assholes think being tough is about how many push-ups you can do—which was exactly what I thought at their age too—but they’re learning.”
“How are the girls?”
“Great. Now that we have the cat, they have even more things to fight about—who gets to feed him, who he likes better, whose bed he should sleep on. They also drew pictures of him on each other’s arms with a black Sharpie. Cattoos, they said.”
Justin laughed, slowed his pedaling, and wiped sweat from his face. “Well, we miss seeing them. Don’t be a stranger too much longer, okay? Life’s short.”
I fell silent, thinking—as he probably was—about the call we’d responded to earlier in the week.
A structure fire with two children trapped in first-floor bedrooms. I’d been in a lot of life-threatening situations in my SEAL days, but I’d never prayed as hard as I did that day as we felt our way through the house on our hands and knees with zero visibility.
Thankfully, we’d located them hiding together in the closet and were able to extract them before the roof collapsed.
They were going to be okay, but both were in the hospital with serious injuries.
I normally didn’t go to the girls’ school when they weren’t with me, but after my shift ended the next day, I’d shown up at pickup time, needing to see them and hug them and hear their voices.
Naomi had understood, and let me have a little time with them that afternoon.
She’d even given me a tearful hug, congratulating me on the rescue and telling the girls how proud they should be of their dad.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll give Bree a call.”
“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night for a few beers? Do you have the kids?”
“Not until Wednesday.” Tomorrow was Saturday, but I wanted to spend the evening with Winnie.
Justin guessed what I was thinking. “Bring her with you. We’ll play cards or something.”
“Maybe,” I said hesitantly.
“Come on, you can keep your fucking pants on for a couple hours,” he chided.
I slowed the treadmill to a walk. “I’ll think about it. But today is her last day at work, and she’s still got a lot of packing to do.”
“When does she leave?”
“Thursday.”
“Oh, wow. I didn’t realize it was so soon.”
“Yeah.” I tried to sound offhand. “Less than a week.”
“Did her place sell?”
“Not yet. She’s still next door.”
“You guys gonna date long-distance once she moves?”
I gave him a look like he was crazy. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” I switched the machine off and stepped down. “I wasn’t even good at a relationship when I lived in the same house as Naomi, let alone when I was gone.”
“But you could—”
“No.” My tone was final. “But if you get off my ass, I’ll ask her about cards tomorrow night.”
He held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I’m done.”
I was hoping Winnie would rather just have a quiet night in, but she loved the idea of going to my sister’s house to play cards. She even made some kind of chili dip to bring. “You think it’s okay to use her oven?” she asked on the ride over.
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
“I just didn’t want to heat it up at my place because the cheese would get hard.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” I repeated.
She glanced at me. “You okay?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Sorry. I’m just a little out of it. Haven’t slept well this week.”
“I won’t keep you up late tonight.” She reached over and rubbed my leg. “Unless you want me to.”
Glancing over at her, I tried to smile. “How was your last day at work?”
“It was really nice. They had a cake for me and everything.”
I tried to think of something else to say, but couldn’t. I continued to feel slightly ill at ease on the drive, and when we pulled up in front of Bree’s house, I turned off the engine but didn’t get out right away.
“What is it, Dex? I can tell something is wrong.”
I frowned, staring at the steering wheel.
“Talk to me,” she pleaded.
“That fire on Monday really messed with me.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was something.
She reached over and took my hand. “I bet. Have you heard any more about the kids?”
“Last I heard, they were still in the hospital, but expected to be okay.”
“Good.” She smiled. “You’re all heroes. Everyone is so proud of you guys.”
“I’m not feeling like a hero,” I said. “I’m feeling like a coward.”
“Why?”
I took a breath and spilled some more. “I haven’t asked my sister about her visit with our dad.”
“Oh.” Winnie shifted in her seat to face me. “I didn’t realize that happened.”
“It happened last weekend. I didn’t say anything about it.”
She remained silent, holding my hand and giving me the space she knew I needed.
“I told her I didn’t want to know how it went.”
“And have you changed your mind?”
“I don’t know. Part of me feels like I should get over my anger because it’s my father and he’s dying, but another part just wants to keep that door closed.”
Winnie nodded, then looked down at our hands.
“I struggle with those feelings about my mom too. My real mom—Carla. Not that she’s dying,” she added quickly, “so it’s not the exact same, but I sometimes ignore her attempts to reach out.
Like I won’t text or call her back for days, or even weeks.
And I feel guilty about it, because I know she’s my mother and she’s offering what she’s capable of, but it still hurts.
I don’t want it to affect me, but sometimes it does. ”
“Yeah.”
“It’s like I want to punish her, but I’m the one who feels punished.” She squeezed my hand. “So I understand wanting to keep the door closed.”
“You don’t think I’m a shitty, fucked-up person to refuse a dying father’s request to see his son?”
“Well, when you put it like that . . .”
I managed a brief smile. “Thanks.”
“I’m teasing.” Bringing my hand to her lips, she kissed my fingers. “No, I don’t think you’re a shitty, fucked-up person. I think you’re protective of yourself and the people you love—for good reason.”
It was crazy how well she understood me.
It made me want to keep talking, turn myself inside out and admit that I was scared to see my father because I didn’t want to feel sorry for him—I didn’t want to feel anything for him, because I didn’t like things I couldn’t control, including that she was leaving and I was scared of being lost and lonely without her.
That I was going to miss her so much it hurt.
That somehow I’d fallen in love with her, when that had been the one fucking thing I was so sure wouldn’t happen.
That my feelings were building and growing and spreading like wildfire, and I couldn’t contain them.
I swallowed hard. “Let’s go in.”
I tried to have fun, but it was a struggle. Winnie was enjoying herself, and that made me happy. She grew up playing cards on Saturday nights with her family too, and she got along with my sister so well, it was like they’d always been friends.
Several times, I’d look over at her and my heart would threaten to burst in my chest. Sometimes I’d have to reach over and touch her shoulder or her leg or her arm, just to satisfy the urge to be closer to her.
I couldn’t wait to get her alone. Maybe she’d stay the whole night with me tonight. So far, we’d always left one another’s beds before the sun came up—we’d never woken up together. I wanted that.
I wanted it way too fucking much.