Chapter 18 #2
I can hear the waver in my own voice. The fear of violence so close by and that I might be the cause of it makes me feel guilty, even though on some level, I know it’s not really my fault. But it’s all so mixed-up in my head.
“Fuck,” Brody hisses, shoving past me. Three other men do the same, harsh looks on their faces and blonde instead of the Tannens’ dark hair, and I realize that these must be the grown-up versions of the Bennett boys.
I knew of them in school, but I don’t know if I would’ve recognized them on Main Street if I passed them now.
But in this context, there’s no way they’re anyone else.
Suddenly, I’m alone with Shayanne, two other women I don’t know, Mama Louise who everyone knows, and Cooper.
Mama Louise smiles serenely, like this is nothing more than a regular Saturday evening around here. Maybe it is? “No worries, dear. They’ll get it sorted.”
The other women are looking at me with deep interest. Thankfully, Cooper runs to me, hugging me around the waist. “Mom?”
There’s a fear there I promised myself he would never know. I run my fingers across his head before patting his back. “It’s fine, honey. Bruce and Bobby are just talking. Tell me about your day. Did you see the pig?”
He doesn’t want the redirection, but Shayanne jumps in to save the day. “He sure did. He held Bacon Seed like a pro, supporting her round little body. He even fed her.” Shayanne holds her hand up and Cooper hesitatingly slaps it with his own.
It’s working, though. Cooper’s shoulders are dropping back into place, and he steps back, quoting. “Only one cookie treat per day. And they’re not really cookies like you and me eat. They’re special pig formula cookies and taste gross. So gross.” He sticks his tongue out and his nose crinkles.
“You ate a pig cookie?” I ask, horrified.
I marvel at how resilient he is and how he can jump focus as Shay and him giggle like they’re sharing a special joke with zero thoughts about what’s happening outside. “All natural, nontoxic, safe to eat. Just yucky, I promise,” Shayanne says. “It’s good to know what you’re feeding your animals.”
“Speaking of feeding our animals, there’s work to be done,” Mama Louise says, her meaning quite clear to everyone.
The two women I don’t know move over to the counter, where it looks like they’re making a salad, but their prying eyes still bore into me.
Shayanne heads to the stove, Cooper trailing along after her.
I look to Mama Louise for an assignment, and she nods, obviously pleased at my willingness to jump right in.
“Allyson, dear, could you set the table, please? Plates, glasses, silverware,” she says, pointing around the kitchen.
“Yes, ma’am,” I answer, doing her bidding.
It occurs to me that she knows my name already. From Bruce? From Cooper? From high school? From Brody and Bobby telling them all about me today?
I feel like an interloper. They’ve accepted Cooper, but he’s a kid and ridiculously adorable. But me? They’re looking at me like a freak show, the woman who broke Bruce’s heart and is setting him up to fall again, especially if they’ve been listening to Brody and Bobby.
I’m not, or at least I don’t think I am, but I don’t think for one second that they’d believe that.
“I’m Allyson, by the way,” I tell the two salad-makers. They have the manners to look slightly chagrined.
“I’m Sophie,” a pretty woman with a country air says, though she doesn’t have that same drawl Shayanne does. “James’s wife, and that butter ball over there is Cindy Lou, our daughter.”
She points at the baby happily sitting in a highchair at the table. Her hair is standing up like she stuck her finger in a light socket and her socked feet kick out in a dance only she knows.
The blonde waves a wet hand and smiles welcomingly. “Katelyn. I’m Mark’s.”
We get to work, and it’s not quiet in the kitchen—the stirring spoon against the metal pot, the rip of lettuce, and the clatter of the dishes—but somehow, the silence is suffocating.
These women all have questions for me, want answers I don’t have, and I want to escape to my own little kitchen.
Just me and Cooper having dinner at the small four-seater table that’s only ever held that many people when Michelle and Liam come over.
All of this—the people, the eyes, the unasked questions—weighs on me.
Most of all, I feel guilty that the guys are all outside fighting. Bruce and Bobby were always crazy-close, and I don’t want to mess that up. Especially when I don’t even know what the hell’s going on between me and Bruce.
Today’s been an utter rollercoaster.
He’s serious, or at least I think he is. But I’m not looking for that. Not looking for another relationship, a marriage, a dad for Cooper. My heart begins to race and my mind starts whirling, anxiety coursing through me.
I set the table, but it takes me forever as I tap, tap, tap my fingers. I bend down to baby talk with Cindy Lou, mindlessly telling her how cute she is because she seems like the friendliest face in the room.
The back screen opens and a herd of elephants enters the kitchen, or well, a whole gaggle of cowboys, but it’s about the same noise level, reminding me again of the uncomfortable silence with the women.
The guys all look a bit heated, from the August evening sun and whatever drama they just went through.
Each and every one of them looks at me with a stony gaze, though, hard ice coursing through the lot of them.
Even Bruce, though his anger seems to be directed at the guys instead of me.
All in all, I’m adrift in a sea of people who are sending me drastically varying messages of welcome. Or flat-out unwelcome in some cases. Brody and Bobby, I’m looking at you.
“Dinner’s ready if everyone’s cleaned up?” Mama Louise says, and there’s a grumbled chorus of ‘Yes, ma’am.’ before everyone sits.
I hang back, biting my lip and twisting my fingers, not knowing where to sit. Mama Louise guides Cooper to her side, and he goes happily, blissfully unaware of my impending freakout, thankfully.
“Al?” Bruce says quietly. I find him amid the sea of broad shoulders to see he’s gesturing to the chair beside him. I sit stiffly, primly perched on the edge. He leans over and whispers in my ear. “You okay? You look ready to run for the hills.”
I look sideways at him, hearing his earlier assessment that I’m skittish.
Then, I wanted to argue that fact. Now, I’ll admit to myself that he might be right.
But it’s for a damn good reason, the boy sitting at Mama Louise’s side.
Running saved me and saved him once, and I’ll damn well do it again if it’d protect us from any more pain.
Or this awkward aggression that’s assaulting me from every angle right now.
“I’m fine,” I say quietly, not even believing the lie myself.
“Shit.” He sighs heavily.
“Language,” Mama Louise says, never taking her attention from filling Cooper’s plate with more food than he’d eat in a week of suppers.
Bruce dips his chin in apology, and I resort to daintily stuffing my face so I don’t have to say anything. Little bites so that I’m always feeding myself or chewing . . . just ignore me, I beg silently.
No such luck.
“How’re practices going?” Bobby asks me directly. Why does it seem like he’s accusing me of something with the barest small talk?
I swallow thickly, dabbing at my mouth with my napkin before laying it back in my lap. “Pretty good. Except for today,” I admit, looking at Bruce. “But it worked out, I guess.”
Cooper laughs, unaware that he’s saving my bacon by interjecting. “Uh, yeah, Mom. You told Johnathan off, which he totally deserved. And my arms and legs are still limp noodles from all the drills you made us do as punishment.” He holds up his arms in front of him, wiggling them loosely.
The group chuckles, and I realize he might be my only saving grace to get through this meal. Seems about right because he’s easily the best thing I’ve ever done.
He goes on to tell them about the circle high-five-pushup drill we did to wrap up practice, and Bruce nods approvingly, pointing at Cooper with a fork.
“Sounds like practice ended better than it started. We’ll build on that.
” Cooper nods like a bobblehead, and I think he’d agree with anything Bruce said. Hell, any of the boys would.
So would you, that sex kitten voice purrs in my head.
And though I was just wildly riding him this afternoon, it seems like that was ages ago already.
It was a pocket of time and space where there were no rules, no consequences, no reality, a blip that blinked out, leaving this awkward uncomfortableness of eyes staring us down like we’re specimens to be dissected.
“So, what’s the deal with the two of you?
” Mark demands of me with a lift of his chin.
I only know he’s Mark because Katelyn’s by his side, and at his brusque pseudo-question, she lays her hand over his.
“What?” he says to her, shrugging carelessly.
“It’s what we all want to know, the elephant in the room or whatever.
We heard Brutal’s version outside and wanna hear Allyson’s too.
Might as well get it out of the way so we can eat in peace, right? ”
Well, shit. There’s no hiding now, not with the big ass spotlight Mark just shone on me.
“Leave her alone, Mark.” Bruce’s voice is powerfully furious but quiet. A calm before another storm. With Cooper sitting right here with a front-row seat. No, I can’t let that happen.
I steel my nerves, limiting my tapping to just one finger against my thigh under the table.
I can do this. Short and to the point is key.
Be firm so as not to invite further questions that might dive too deep.
Just like I tell clients when they’re preparing to testify, because this feels eerily similar.
I meet Mark’s eyes, no small feat in itself, and recite the basics, being very intentional with my words because of Cooper’s presence even though he’s building some sort of green bean log cabin that keeps falling over.
He’s completely oblivious to the adult conversation and thread of tension going on around him.
It feels like I’ve said some version of this story so many times recently, to myself, to Bruce, even to Michelle.
It’s easier with each telling, but it still makes me feel like I’ve got a target on my back with the staredowns I’m getting.
Like they’re comparing whatever Bruce said to what I just said, and like it was some test, I’m dying to know if I passed. Or if he said something different.
But what would he have said? I just told the truth.
Mark hums in approval as I finish, and Bruce lays his arm around the back of my chair in what would be a casual move in any other situation.
This one, as his rough fingers tease along the bare skin of my shoulders, is a bold claiming, telling everyone that’s enough and to fuck off.
I’m thankful for the backup, but my basking in his support is a flashing neon danger sign to me.
All of this is too much, too soon, too fast, too strong, too scary.
I’m having dinner with his family, for fuck’s sake! He’s throwing about words like ‘mine’ and talking about ‘us’ like there is such a thing.
I can feel myself rebuilding the walls that came down when it was just the two of us, slapping up brick by brick to give me a quick defense against it all. Cold settles in my veins, and I stay stoic and quiet.
The rest of dinner, no one says a word to me, no more questions, no more snarky remarks, nothing. It’s exactly what I want, but it feels like I’ve already been dismissed as unworthy.
Not soon enough, dinner ends and I make my escape.
“Thank you so much for dinner, Mama Louise. And for hanging out with Cooper, Shayanne.” The two women smile in response, a rare and appreciated kindness given the mood of the rest of dinner. “We need to get going with the drive back to town.”
“Of course, dear. Drive safely, and you’re welcome at my dinner table anytime,” Mama Louise says with a smile that says she knows the gauntlet I just endured and is maybe a bit apologetic about it. Or is that pride glinting in her eyes? “You too, Mr. Cooper!”
She hugs him, and he hugs her right back without hesitation, making my heart stutter.
Bruce walks us out, using a flashlight from by the door to shine the way back to our car parked closer to the Tannen house. When I unlock the doors, Bruce holds up a fist and Cooper pounds it. “Your family is awesome, Coach B! Shayanne told me I can visit Bacon Seed anytime I want. Is that true?”
Bruce nods. “If Shayanne said it, she meant it. But only if your mom says it’s okay too.”
Cooper looks at me with puppy dog eyes, pleading his case over clasped hands. “Please, Mom?”
“We’ll see.” He hops around wildly like I agreed and then climbs in the car, still wiggling happily. I close the door behind him and then it’s just Bruce and me in the dark night as he clicks off the flashlight.
“You okay, baby?” he murmurs. I know he sees the flinch the endearment triggers when he sighs. “Two steps forward, one step back is fine if that’s where you’re at, Allyson. I just need to know if we’re still dancing.”
I bite my lip, not sure how to answer that.
“Maybe?” It’s all I can honestly give.
Bruce nods his head, and I wish I could see his eyes. “I can work with that.” He bends down, his breath hot on my cheek, but he pauses, giving me time to stop him. The refusal doesn’t come, and he presses his lips to my cheek.
I want them on mine. I want him to leave me alone.
I am such a clusterfuck of emotions . . . want, desire, and hope battling safety, routine, and fear.
“I’ll see you at practice on Tuesday,” I finally say.
I know he’s disappointed in my reluctance, but he agrees. “Yeah, see you Tuesday. Call me if you need anything. Or text me. But if I don’t respond, assume it’s a glitch or bad cell service. I promise, I’ll respond to you PDQ.”
My brows knit together. “PDQ?”
Even in the moonlight, I can see the glint of his smile. “Pretty damn quick . . . for you.”
I smile, ducking into my car. “Good night, Bruce.”
“Good night, Al.”