CHAPTER 21
HOLLY
“You really don’t mind me heading out early?”
When I glance at Pops over my hand of cards, he’s smiling at me. The dark skin around his eyes crinkles with it, and I know I’m done for.
“No, sweetie. I don’t mind. And I believe that’s rummy.”
He sets down his final run, and I glare at him.
“That’s not nice. You’re supposed to let me win. Now, I’m going to be all bummed out on my date.”
“Date?” Pops pauses in the process of gathering up our cards. “I thought you said you’re hanging out with that boy who’s getting your kidney.”
Back when I was in high school, I’d always blush and get defensive when I brought up the idea of me going out with someone to Pops. He’d go quiet and just stare at me for a moment while I fidgeted. Then, he’d tell me to bring the boy by the house, so he could meet him, which I hated because Pops would proceed to stare at the guy until he fidgeted, too. Took me a while to realize my adoptive father was worried about me. That he was just trying to figure out how to be a dad to a teenage girl and how to keep her safe while also letting her have a life.
I think he did a good job. And, anyway, I’ve never been too interested in dating.
So, now, I nod and suppress my urge to shift around in my seat. “Yep. I am.”
I wait for the staring, and I’m not disappointed. But, this time, I meet his eyes.
While we face off, I think about what it’ll be like when Ben meets my dad. The fact that I have no idea how the rest of the evening will go should freak me out, but when I imagine the two of them in a room together, a smile creeps over my mouth.
Pops’s eyes widen, and then he gives a slight nod. “You like him, huh?”
“A bit.” I shrug, but I can’t get rid of the smile.
“He picking you up here?”
“Yeah. Should be here soon.”
He keeps watching me as he finishes gathering up the cards. “You’re not gonna ask me to be nice to him?”
I lean back in my chair, my face cheerful as ever. “You can be whatever you want to him. I’m not the boss of you.”
“That so?”
His eyebrow rises in disbelief, and I stick out my tongue.
The doorbell rings.
I hop out of my seat and start down the hall while my dad follows at a more leisurely pace.
When I open the front door, Ben’s on the porch, waiting with a grin.
No glasses tonight, and the forest-green scarf wrapped around his neck sets off the matching color of his eyes. All the buttons are done up on his black peacoat, which matches an equally dark pair of jeans and a nice set of leather shoes.
I’ve never cared much about what the guys I go out with are wearing, but clothes on Ben are like shiny wrappers on a chocolate bar; they look great, but I just want to rip them off. My mouth waters.
“You gonna invite your guest in?” Pops’s voice shocks me out of my ogle-fest.
Ben, still grinning, leans forward to quickly kiss my cheek, his hand pressing against my lower back during the exchange.
I step to the side, so he can slip past me, and then I close the door.
“Pops, this is Ben Gerhard. Ben, this is my dad, Isaiah Foster.”
“Great to meet you, Mr. Foster. Holly talks about you all the time.”
Ben reaches his hand out, and my father takes it without responding.
I brace for the awkward staring session to start.
But Ben has other plans. The moment their hands release, he’s back to focusing on me.
“I got you something.”
“You did?”
Before I have time to wonder what, Ben pulls out the hand I didn’t realize he was hiding behind his back.
“Is that …” My dad sounds confused.
I let out a half-groan, half-laugh. “A corsage. You got me a corsage.”
Ben pops open the plastic container and pulls out the little cluster of pink roses. “Of course. This is an official date, isn’t it?” The whole time, he never stops beaming down at me, his eyes flashing with mischief. “May I?”
It’s too cute, him standing there, looking so handsome, and holding out the ridiculous floral piece. I give him my hand, and he slides the elastic band onto my wrist. Wanting to soak in every bit of the moment, I press my nose into the flowers and enjoy the tickle of sweetness they carry.
“Now, we need the photographic evidence. Mr. Foster, would you do the honors?” Ben holds out his phone to my dad, who watches my date with such obvious befuddlement that I can’t help snickering.
After Pops accepts the phone, Ben pulls me into his arms. He wraps them around my waist, holding me from behind in the classic prom pose. I can’t even fully bask in how his snug embrace eases away any remaining nerves. I’m too busy dying of laughter.
In every picture my dad takes, I’m sure my eyes are closed.
“Great. Thanks for that.” My insane date accepts his phone back, sliding it into his pocket. He grins down at me. “You ready to go?”
Before answering, I have to take a deep inhale through my nose. “Just need to put my shoes on and grab my coat. Be right back.”
Giggles still sneak out of me as I walk down the hall and give the two men a moment alone.
Mr. Foster is staring at me.
Getting stared at is uncomfortable under normal circumstances, but Holly’s dad piles a giant load of intimidation on top of it. The guy has to be at least half a foot taller than me and packing more muscle than I could hope to have, even when I was healthy. The man looks like he belongs on a football field, knocking men down so hard that they’d question whether they even want to get back up.
And I just walked into his house, expecting to take out his daughter.
He’s got to know how beautiful she is, and he can definitely guess at some of the not-so-family-friendly thoughts I have rattling around in my head whenever I see her.
I try not to look guilty.
“So, you’re getting my daughter’s kidney?”
His question catches me off guard. I’ve been so excited about our date; I kind of forgot about that other aspect of our relationship.
“Yes, I am. And I’m extremely grateful. Holly’s amazing.”
“She is.” Mr. Foster remains expressionless. “Is this standard practice? Dating your donor?”
Fuck me.
Seems like Holly’s dad isn’t a fan of me for more than just the normal reasons a guy might not like the person taking out his daughter.
That sucks, but I’m not about to back off just because he’s being protective.
“Probably not. But, the way I see it, Holly’s worth bending the rules for.” I return his gaze, trying to let him know that I’m not some bum just looking to get in her pants. That I care about her.
He gives a noncommittal grunt as his daughter comes up behind him.
“You done with the intimidating staring? Told him he’d better treat me right or else he’d have you to answer to?”
She smirks at her father, and the guy’s stony expression cracks with a half-smile.
“Nah, that’s silly.” One of his eyebrows creeps upward. “He does you wrong, and I’ve no doubt you can take care of him yourself.” Then, he turns to me, his face splitting open in a blinding smile, his teeth shining bright against his ebony skin. “I’ll just be around to help you hide the body.”
I can still hear his booming laughter as we walk to the car.
“He likes you.” Holly grins over at me from the driver’s seat.
I’m not sure I agree with her, but I smile back. “What’s not to like?”
She snorts, shaking her head, and then reaches over to interlace her fingers with mine, steering the car one-handed. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. Take a left up here.”
“You and your surprises.” Holly follows my direction and then starts humming along to the radio.
As usual, I’ve got it set to the local classic rock station. The Police pump out of the speakers, “Message in a Bottle” filling the car.
She sings along when the song reaches the chorus. Her voice is sweet, and it combines with the lyrics to give me a solid punch in the gut.
Ever since I found out my kidneys were failing and that I’d need to get a donation if I hoped to live into my thirties, I’ve been silently panicking. When I’m around my parents and my friends, I smile and joke, but there’s always a clock in my head, counting down. Only I don’t know when it’s going to run out. There are times the ticking gets so loud that I want to scream for help. Send out my own SOS, just like the song.
But all that panic fades away around Holly. She’s a perfect match for me in more ways than I could have imagined. My cure and my inspiration. The future glows bright with her in it.
We come to a stop at a red light, and she beams over at me. My chest swells and aches in the best way.
“I think I know where you’re taking me.”
“What? No way. This is a secret little gem no one else knows about.” I cover my onslaught of emotions with sarcasm, and she sticks her tongue out at me.
That’s a move I can’t ignore. The moment her tongue retreats, I dive in, firmly pressing a kiss on her mouth.
A car behind us honks.
Holly laughs and shoves me back to my side of the car. “Stop distracting me!” She accelerates through the now-green light.
I go back to admiring her, enjoying being with the girl who’s saving my life and making every moment worth living.
My cheeks tingle from the cold and also because I haven’t stopped smiling for the last hour.
“Come on, Holly! Catch up!” Ben taunts me as he skates backward around the rink.
Seems someone’s dialysis treatment yesterday gave him an extra boost of energy.
“Well, aren’t you fancy, Mr. Show-Off?” Laughter colors my words.
His grin grows, enticing me to move faster, so I can get a clearer view of his delicious mouth. But he keeps in front of me, just out of reach, with steady, sure movements. Nothing like my imitation of a drunken penguin trying to fly—aka lots of useless arm-flapping.
For years, I planned to go ice-skating during Winterfest. The outside ice-skating rink right next to the Delaware River with a beautiful view of the Ben Franklin Bridge always seemed magical. But, each year, I’d let the season pass without a visit, making excuses about other things I should be doing.
It’s like I’ve been traveling at high speed, and Ben is a set of brakes. He insists I slow down and enjoy the view.
Even after an hour, I’m still wobbly, seeing as how the last time I went ice-skating was at a birthday party when I was eleven. But I’m determined to catch up to him and wipe that smirk off his face. Preferably by biting his smug lower lip.
Using the temptation of tasting him to drive me forward, I dig into the ice and pump my legs and arms harder.
Likely taking pity on me, Ben doesn’t increase his pace. Instead, he opens his arms to wrap me in a hug when I reach him.
My momentum sets us off-balance, and Ben goes down first with me landing hard on top of him.
Worry rocks me, and I immediately turn into a mother hen. “Oh gosh. Oh, Ben. Are you okay? I’m so sorry. Crud! That must have hurt. Are you hurt? Do we need to go? You’re not bleeding, are you?” My rambling spills out while I run my hands over him to check for any broken bones.
His legs seem fine, same for his arms and chest. But he doesn’t respond to any of my questions, making me worry he hit his head.
When I reach my hands up to examine his skull, I find him staring at me with a strange intensity. There’s humor in his eyes, but there’s also something else, something not so lighthearted. Then, the mystery emotion is gone, and he leans forward for a swift kiss.
“You hungry?” His breath warms my chilled face.
I nod in response, wondering what I just missed.
He kisses me again and then leans back. “Let’s grab something to eat.”
We work our way up, one of us more graceful than the other. This time, Ben keeps my hand in his as we weave through the other skaters to exit the rink. After turning in our rented gear, he leaves me in the Chickie’s & Pete’s line because I’m fixated on the idea of getting some of their famous crab fries.
There are only two more people in front of me when Ben finds his way back to my side.
“I got you a hot chocolate.” The cup he holds out steams and smells dreamy.
“You are perfection.” My mittens grip the cup tight to keep it from slipping out of their penguin-like grasp.
“Careful. It’s hot.”
“Good looking out. I don’t want to burn my tongue before eating my glorious fries.”
The teenager at the counter leaves with his food, and I move one step closer to stomach satisfaction.
“No, we wouldn’t want that. Nothing should come between Holly and her fries.”
I stick my tongue out at him, and just like earlier, he steals a kiss the moment I stop, which only makes me want to do it again.
“I guess, since we’re on an official date, I’ll share with you but only if you fully respect their deliciousness.”
“Oh, believe me, I am totally aware of their deliciousness. But those fries are all yours.”
“You don’t want any?”
Ben’s smile dims just slightly. I realize why before he tells me, and I want to slap my own face.
“Those fries are exactly the opposite of what’s allowed on the dialysis diet. There are the potatoes and the salt, not to mention that decadent cheesy dipping sauce. So, it’s a no-go for me.”
This night has been so normal and unrelated to kidneys that I forgot for a moment that he’s sick.
“We’ll just have to add these to the list of post-surgery feast items.”
“Right under a whole pile of almond croissants.”
“Oh, yes. We’ll gorge ourselves on French fries and pastries!”
“Sounds like a date.” Ben cups my chin, running a thumb over my cheek, as he smiles down at me. Playfulness sparkles in his eyes, capturing me in an almost-hypnotic state.
The guy at the counter has to clear his throat before I realize it’s my turn to order.
Once my hands are full of crab fries and hot chocolate, we navigate through the lodge to find a place to sit. Since it’s Monday night, Winterfest isn’t too crowded, and we quickly claim an available couch. After placing my drink on the low table in front of us, I make sure to sit down close enough to brush against Ben but not restrict our ability to eat.
I’m halfway through my fries when I realize Ben is watching me.
“What?” I grab a napkin and wipe my face, sure I’ve dripped cheese sauce on my chin or something.
But he just shrugs as a smile tugs the corners of his lips.
“Come on. You’re making me feel self-conscious. Why are you staring at me?”
Ben shakes his head and shrugs. “I was just thinking that I’m really weird.”
“Why’s that?”
His eyes trace over my face, focusing on my mouth. “Because watching you go to town on those fries makes me …” He trails off, reaching over to slip a finger under the elastic of my corsage. Back and forth, he brushes against my skin, playing with the ridiculous gift I refuse to take off. Finally, he finishes his thought, “I just think everything you do is sexy.”
My mouth, luckily currently free of fries, goes slack. I mean, I know he’s attracted to me, but unless a girl is in a Hardee’s commercial, there’s really not a way to go about eating fries sexy.
“You’re right.”
He glances up, raising an eyebrow in question.
“You’re weird.”
His cheeks get red, a perfect color to match his devilish grin.
Then, slowly, with deliberation, I pick up a fry and hold his gaze as I take a bite.