Chapter 18 #2
“Let’s,” Harrison muttered, and walked to the small green patch of fake turf. Hillary handed him a club. He swung it back and forth like a pendulum a couple of times, then lined up and took a big swing. His swing looked smooth and graceful, the arc of the club high.
The Posse thought so, too, because they all crowed with delight, each of them shouting out numbers, presumably ranking the swing. “A four?” Harrison said, turning around and staring accusingly at Carol, who had said it.
“Unbelievable,” Amy muttered, and went back to the studio and sat with a huff of annoyance on her stool at her easel.
She tried to keep on with her new idea, tried to focus, but she kept hearing their voices rising up in laughter and all the splashing about.
Even Harrison’s deep rumble of a laugh a time or two.
How was it possible that he didn’t mind them questioning his living or ranking his swing?
How did he enjoy that? But they were clearly having fun, which only made her angry, and frustrated, and it didn’t help that she was feeling creatively blocked, but most of all, annoyed that she was missing out.
For an hour, she battled herself. She had a vague memory of battling like this when she was younger.
She could remember the frustration she used to feel when she couldn’t think what to paint.
Sometimes, she’d felt as if it would have been easier to study art history and leave the painting to the professionals.
She’d been horrible at figuring out what theme she ought to be uncovering, what message she wanted to share with the world.
Even the creative reasons for the mediums she used.
Her fellow students always knew the answers to those questions.
Her phone pinged and she picked it up.
Do you know what my favorite cheese is
Jonah. No one else would ask such a question.
No. Should I?
It’s aged gouda. Dad’s girlfriend brought some over and it’s delicious. You should google it.
Dad had a girlfriend? The same dad who had begged her not a month ago that they should reconcile? That had said he’d made a terrible mistake? Who was this girlfriend? Not that Amy cared. She didn’t care. She sort of cared.
Did you google it
Not yet. I’m painting.
My bad
She put her phone down and stared at her canvas. Great. Ryan got to move on, and she got to worry that she had too much baggage for anyone else.
Her phone pinged again.
NOT MY GIRLFRIEND
This was from Ryan. She watched as three dots popped up at the bottom of her screen.
Seriously, not my girlfriend. Not dating at all. Just a friend from work who found out I have the boys and wanted to help.
“Oh, because you need help to house your two teen sons for a couple of weeks?” she muttered bitterly. Try doing it every day of every week, buddy.
She dropped off some snacks and a casserole. That’s all. I meant when I said I want us to try again.
Hello?
She sighed. I’m here. I don’t care if you have a girlfriend. “At least, not like you think,” she said out loud. Have fun with the gouda. I hear it’s delicious.
She put her phone down, but it pinged stubbornly.
Jonah wants to go with his friends tonight. Is that okay?
She was going to have to find a good brick wall to smash her head into. She dashed off a curt Whatever you think, and then put her phone on silent and tossed it onto the cot in the room. She turned back to her canvas, took a deep breath—
There was a knock at the door.
She jerked around as Duchess began to bark to the ceiling.
She had figured it would be her mom, but it was Harrison.
He was holding a wicker basket that looked as if it was full of snacks—chips and crackers, cheese sticks.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said, and dipped down to scratch Duchess behind the ears.
“No, no, it’s…it’s fine.” Why did she sound so nervous?
“How’s it going?” He looked past her to her canvas. She quickly turned the easel.
“Wait,” he said. “Was that…”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m still doodling.” She turned the easel away from his line of sight even more. “I’m not going to lie—I’ve had more productive days. And the Christmas theme is…a lot. What are you doing with that basket?”
“Oh. The Posse has moved to the hot tub and asked for snacks.”
She looked at the basket. “You’re not seriously serving them, are you?”
He grinned sheepishly and shrugged. “I don’t mind. It was either fetch the snacks or succumb to peer pressure to get in the hot tub with them. That seemed fraught with danger.”
“I think that was a good call,” Amy said, smiling, too.
“And besides, Hillary squeezed in. She’s got them hanging on every word of her relationship with Tony Cho. Except that I don’t think it’s a relationship.”
“I take it Tony Cho is another golfer who may or may not be better than you.”
He grinned. “He is indeed another golfer who may or may not be better than me. And apparently, he and Hillary have hooked up a few times on tour. The Posse advises she think about what she’s doing.” He put the basket down. “I’ve noticed they advise on a lot of things. Often without being asked.”
“Don’t I know it,” Amy said and laughed. “Well, good. That will give them something to chew on for a while. They’ll masticate it down to nothing.”
“You know they can be entertaining. I like them.”
“You do not,” she said, scoffing. “No one does. And the worst of it is, they don’t care if anyone likes them or not. They’re in their seventies and Mom once told me they were like a pack of old dogs—they won’t follow commands anymore. They’re going to do what they do.”
“Senior rebels,” Harrison said. “Somehow knowing they don’t give a damn makes me like them even more.”
She smiled. He wasn’t wrong—the Posse could be quite entertaining.
For her fiftieth birthday, they’d made a penis cake and howled at her shocked expression.
But the next morning, they were manning voter registration booths at the town spring festival.
They could bicker like siblings, but there was no doubt that if any of them ever needed a thing, the rest would be there in a heartbeat.
“But man, can they drink,” Harrison added with an amused shake of his head. “Hillary is certainly enjoying their company,” he added. “She’s got a lot of Tony questions.” He leaned backward, stuck his head out the door, checking on them. “And Melissa had a few ideas for my swing.”
Amy laughed. “She didn’t! Anything else?”
“Well, your mom and Carol have some killer ideas for how I could get myself a girlfriend, which pretty much depends on me being in a bar somewhere. They are concerned—they think it’s unnatural to be my age and unmarried.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I get how it might seem a little strange. And believe me, it’s nothing I haven’t heard from my own mom. I better deliver the snacks. Don’t want to get on their bad side.”
Amy stood up from her stool. “No, you definitely don’t want to do that.”
Harrison didn’t move. His gaze drifted to her mouth. “So…I hope I didn’t keep you from an important artistic breakthrough.”
“I hope so, too, because I could really use one about now.”
“Maybe you need a little inspiration.”
Her heart skipped. She took a step closer. “What did you have in mind?”
Harrison’s slow smile turned devilish. “Well, there is a café on the other side of the lake that I was thinking of for dinner. I read in the Lakeline News that they have excellent burgers. True artistic inspiration needs fuel, doesn’t it? If you think you could get away, that is.”
“The greasier the burger, the better,” she said. “But on the other side of the lake? How would we get there? A car would take an hour.”
“Lake taxi. I took the liberty of booking it.”
She smiled, her gaze now on his mouth. “What about the Posse?”
“They won’t even know we’re gone,” he said with a wink. “And I don’t know for sure, but I heard rumblings about a taco casserole.”
“I love taco casserole,” Amy said softly.
She had somehow gotten close enough to kiss him.
The only thing in her way was Duchess, but she could handle the dog.
She was struck with a moment of uncertainty as to whether she should lean into this affair she was having, or back off and not risk being hurt by it.
Fortunately, Harrison made the decision for her.
He slid his free arm around her waist and pulled her into him.
“So do I. But I’d much rather spend time with you. ” He lowered his head to kiss her.
This man. He loved taco casserole and burgers, and he was a fantastic kisser, even when holding an enormous basketful of snacks.
Even with Duchess sitting between them. He kissed so well that Amy felt lightheaded and tingly in every corner of her body when he set her back and said, “I hear the jackals.”
It took her a moment to catch on to what he meant. Only then did she hear the Posse calling his name. “Ugh,” she groaned.
“The lake taxi arrives at five. That good with you?”
“That is good with me.”
And with that, he was gone.
She sank down on the bed, still feeling a little tingly. Her phone rang. She glanced at the display, sighed wearily, and picked it up. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hey, kid,” he said. “Your mom is still there?”
She leaned back until she was prone on the cot, listening to her dad try and sort out why her mother was giving him the cold shoulder. Julie was right—she had too much baggage. A minivan full. Her family was entirely too dependent on her. And she had created the monster.
This thing with Harrison could never really be more than a weekend fling. How could it? He’d be traveling the world and she’d be looking for Jonah’s red hoodie and listening to her dad wonder where he went wrong. They were from two different solar systems.