19. AFTER
AFTER
Two beers in hand, Elias returned to my waiting father near the water.
My mother and I were perched higher up on the riverbank, away from the shade of the trees, towels laid in the sandy soil.
If I had come to visit alone, I’d probably be fishing with my father, just to keep him company.
At twenty-eight, as a mad scientist survivor, I would much rather sit under the sun being grateful to be alive.
Walking was no problem, and I had started working out again, testing the muscles and strength of my legs.
The U.S. government was kind enough to give Elias an entire month off to help me recover before they sent him off to Chicago to investigate a pharmaceutical company there.
Thankfully, there wasn’t much to see, and he was only gone for a few days before returning to his normal day-to-day.
I still wasn’t entirely sure what that was.
He’d described it as working out, following leads, shooting guns, and writing reports.
“The normal stuff.” I knew that his job had to consist of more than that, but I didn’t press him on it.
It was work, he got paid, whatever. We were approaching my final two weeks off, and with the progress I’d made physically, this weekend was determined to be the best option for travel.
“I really like him.” My mom sat up and cracked open a beer. Her koozie read, “Drinking because murder is wrong.”
I snorted. “Everyone likes him.” I brought my own beer to my lips.
“Does he hit you?” She asked.
I promptly spit the liquid out of my mouth, choking on it. Both Elias and my father looked back at me and I had to give them a thumbs up. “Mom, what?”
“I’m just asking, honey. There’s gotta be something wrong with him,” she said, shaking her head. “No one is that perfect.”
“That is the craziest possible way to have said that. You do realize that, right?” I looked at her, waiting for an explanation. She played with the tab on her beer can, instead. “He’s got his demons, but I think everyone does.”
She nodded. “But he’s good to you?”
“Is there a reason you think he’s not? You just said you liked him.” Judging by the way she normally spoke about him, I thought she was in love with him.
“I do. I think he’s fantastic.” She played with the corner of her towel, wiping dirt from it. “I’m just wondering where the engagement ring is, that’s all. What’s the hold up?”
I glared at her. “I think it’s a little too soon for that.”
“Your father and I–”
“Elias isn’t currently in the Army, so we don’t need to rush to get married so I can live on base with him.”
She grabbed my right hand and turned it over in her palm, inspecting the ring there. “I did some Googling about this,” she said. “About what it means. He gave you this pretty early on.”
“It was his mother’s. She died when he was a kid.”
She set my hand in my lap, picking up her beer again. “That’s a big deal.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I fell back, closing my eyes to feel the sun on my face. It felt like a big deal when he gave it to me, and it still felt like a big deal months later when I put it on in the mornings.
“All I’m saying, Cassie, is to lock that man down because there is no one on Earth like him.”
I scoffed. “I hope you talk about me like that. Maybe you should tell Elias that he should lock me down, too.”
“That’s your father’s job,” she said. “Look how serious they look. I bet they’re talking about the same thing we are.”
I shot up, putting my sunglasses on, and peered down at the edge of the water.
She was right. They were in the middle of an important conversation.
My dad’s hand was on Elias’s bare shoulder, and he patted it a few times.
No smiles on their faces, they looked intently at each other while they spoke.
“You shouldn’t meddle like that.”
“We’re your parents.”
“Whatever.”
It wasn’t like Elias would be scared off.
Since we’d gotten back home from the outpost, he’d only become more affectionate, if that was possible.
Taking care of me until I was able to get around on my own might have been the most fun he’d ever had in his life.
At one point, he grabbed a napkin and tried to wipe my face while we were eating dinner.
I had to draw the line there. When he committed to something, he was all in.
“I mean, look at him,” my mom said, her mouth staying open a little too long.
The sun was sinking in the sky, and Elias and my father had begun to pack up.
Elias opted not to wear a shirt, to my mom’s not-so-secret elation, and the summer sun had tanned his brown skin to a beautiful shade of ochre.
Sweat from being in the sun all day made him shine, and he smiled up at me, catching me admiring him. As usual.
I was under my mom’s watchful eye next. “But look at you. The bikini is a little skimpy, but you look gorgeous in it.”
Reaching in my bag, I pulled out the shirt I’d worn before we settled in to sunbathe. After it was on, I turned back to my mom. Shrugging, I said, “Elias bought it.”
“Of course he did. That’s a man, for ya.”
They were about up the hill, so I hurried to pack my belongings. Elias stopped just short of me and held out a firm hand for me to grab. He pulled me up and into him to whisper, “You could have left the shirt off.”
Glancing at my parents to make sure they weren’t paying attention, I bent over in retaliation.
My ass was inches from him as I picked up the rest of my things, and I knew Elias was itching to reach out and touch.
If he slapped me where he wanted to, my parents would definitely look over at us, and Elias wanted to keep up his good boy image.
My dad told us how well they did on the way back to the car, and gave my mother a few ideas on what would pair nicely with the trout they caught. After the equipment was squared away in the back of the truck, Elias shrugged his own shirt back on. “So we’re even,” he said.
“I’ve seen enough.”
“Oh yeah?” he smirked. “I’ll remember that.”
I fanned myself in the backseat until the air conditioning cooled us down.
The truck had been parked in the sun all day long.
My thighs stuck to the leather, and I regretted not putting on my shorts.
My parents had a river running through their backyard, so we really didn’t need to take a trip in the first place, but my father was adamant that this was the honey hole.
They had done well, so I couldn’t argue with him.
Elias held my hand on the way home, which my mother took extreme interest in, judging by her stare in the mirror.
We drank wine and ate the fresh fish at my parent’s little table in the kitchen I’d grown up in, and my mother forced photo albums into Elias’s lap.
Beyond a new tablecloth and some photos of me in my cap and gown, the house hadn't changed.
Just the same as it had always been, but it didn't feel as comfortable as I expected it to.
It was cozy, homey, but it didn't feel like my own anymore. It hadn’t been for awhile, but even the last time I'd come, it still felt right.
It was missing Elias. His smell, his shoes by the door, and his keys on the hook. It was untouched by him, and for the first time in my life, my parents' home felt like a stranger's.
After dinner, my father insisted on a nightcap in the living room, and drink in hand, I paused near the coffee table, unsure where to sit.
My dad would take the recliner, I knew that, but I didn't know if my mom would take the love seat or the chair. Maybe Elias should’ve sat in the chair to keep a respectful distance, so we would keep our hands to ourselves in my parents’ house.
“You don't make a very good window, Cass,” my dad said. I was standing directly between him and the television. Heaven forbid he missed a rerun of Die Hard or whatever he’d turned on. I hopped out of the way, sitting down on the small couch, tucking myself into the corner.
My mom beelined for the other chair, and Elias had no problem settling on the loveseat with me.
Being uncomfortable didn't make sense, but a lot of my feelings were nonsensical, I’d come to terms with that about myself.
The problem was my trouble discerning which of my feelings were the nonsensical ones.
Elias lifted his arm up for me to slide under, to lean into him, and I hesitated. My eyes flitted to my parents and back to Elias and he gave me a look, like I was being ridiculous. “Come on, I know you're tired.”
I was tired, to the extreme. I'd prefer just to go right to sleep, all tuckered out from the sun. Despite reapplying sunblock multiple times, my skin was hot to the touch, and it was already a painful shade of pink. Abandoning my drink on the floor below me, I laid my head in Elias’s lap.
His hand was in my hair like it was magnetized to it, pulling it out of my face and combing his fingers through.
My mom pursed her lips. “Cassie, honey, you’re sunburnt.” It was always mothers, wasn't it, that needed to state the obvious? I wasn’t sure how her noticing the color of my skin helped me.
“Sorry, I haven’t spent much time outside since I had to have surgery,” I snapped. “From when I was shot. With a gun.” My parents weren’t thrilled by the details that I could give them, but naturally, Elias earned brownie points for ensuring I didn’t bleed out.
She ignored me, looking at Elias instead. “Does she talk to you like this?”
“Only when she’s tired,” he said. “Or hungry, or when she wakes up in the morning.”
“We get it,” I muttered.
“You should sauna, it will help your blood flow.” Right, heat on a burn, beautiful logic.
“Mom, I don’t think the right treatment for sun exposure is a hot room.”
“It might help your attitude, too, getting more blood to your brain.” She looked pointedly at Elias, like he could force me to listen to her.