Chapter 14
Kevin
“Hey, you.” Her morning voice, when she answers the phone, is warm, roughened velvet.
It melts me. Makes me have to feel for a chair to sink into before my plateful of eggs joins me in a puddle on the floor. “Good morning. Barely.” I’ve already done my Saturday training hours, come back home, and fixed breakfast. Lunch. Whatever.
“Mmm…I didn’t sleep that late, did I?”
The sound of her, stretching and yawning, muffled in sheets, fabric sliding over warm, smooth skin, nearly does me in. I shove my plate aside and thump my head a few times on the table in front of me. Get it together, Kev.
“Oh my gosh! It’s eleven!” Totally different tone now, alert and genuinely shocked.
“Is that bad? Are you late for something?”
“No… no. I just can’t remember the last time I slept past nine. This is weird! I—Hang on a minute, will you? I need to check my texts, make sure everything’s okay.”
I wait, eating my toast and eggs and trying not to miss the warm, blurred, just-for-you voice she’d used a minute ago.
“You still there? Thanks. Sorry. No problems, so that’s good. How are you this morning?”
“Fine. Look, I know we had dinner just last night, but I wondered if you might want to do something together this weekend.” I’m really pushing it, calling her so soon, but heaven help me, I couldn’t stop myself.
“I just got invited to my friend Rose’s house for a pool party. She says it’s a small one—just a handful of people—because some of the regulars are out of town. Want to go with me?”
I can hear her opening and shutting drawers. I wonder what’s in those drawers. What she’s wearing right now. “Uh, sure.” Time with her and I get to see her in her swimsuit? You betcha.
She says she’ll pick me up at two, and then I’m alone again with my breakfast.
***
I use the ride from my apartment to Andi’s friend’s house to get myself under control. It’s not easy, with Andi so close, her flimsy swimsuit cover-up riding up her thigh as she applies the gas and brake, her toned calf flexing. Instead of a braid, she’s left her long hair down and it shifts in the breeze from her open window, sliding across her smooth bare shoulder and arm, its flowery scent teasing my nose. It’s not any safer to look at her graceful hands on the steering wheel, a silver ring on her thumb catching the sunlight as she keeps the beat of the Jason Isbell song on the radio. I remember all too well the magic in those fingers.
On the back seat there’s a pan of something rich and chocolaty and warm from the oven. “My secret brownie recipe,” she tells me with a private, pleased little smile. My body reacts like she’d stroked me. I’m so busy trying to calm myself back down that I almost don’t worry about what her friends will think of me.
It’s just six of us. The host couple, Rose and Angus, and one other couple I recognize: July from the restaurant and the guy who was by her side that night.
Angus could’ve played pro football, with his height and bulk. Says he didn’t, but his massive strength is apparent as he shakes my hand and looks me over. He’s got at least two inches on me. The other guy, Joe, isn’t much taller than July, with a lean, wiry distance-runner’s build, but he eyes me too.
I remember thinking July looked massively strong when I saw her before. Today, her sleeveless swimsuit cover shows off her impressive biceps and triceps. She too looks me over pretty closely.
Rose is a hoot. A round little ball of energy, everywhere at once, usually carrying some kind of food. Her eyes are full of mischief as she gives me a quick up-and-down visual sweep. “Wellll. Kevin. Nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”
What?
Andi looks at her like she’s lost it. “No, you haven’t.”
“Hush, Andi. I’m practicing the basic social skills I should’ve learned in my youth.”
Big Angus shakes his head, not very successfully hiding a grin, and turns to me. “You know much about grilling?” Tips his head toward Joe. “Usually Toothpick Boy here is the grill master, but I’m up for a change if you are.”
Joe snorts. “It’s yours if you want it, Kevin, but I don’t mind if you don’t. The important thing is to keep the yeti here away from fire. Nothing spoils an appetite faster than the smell of burnt hair.”
Rose frowns at him. “You hush. Angus always smells nice.” She hands Angus a platter of raw chicken breasts and salmon steaks and skewers of vegetables, then pats him on the arm. “I did miss your eyebrow, though, sweetie, till it grew back in. Thank heavens you didn’t have your beard then.”
July and Andi are trying not to laugh. Angus just rolls his eyes. Leads Joe and me out to a fine huge grill on the covered part of a flagstone patio that stretches fifteen or twenty feet to a sparkling pool surrounded by gorgeous plantings.
“Wow.”
“Pretty cool, huh? Rosie and I did everything but the pool ourselves.”
Joe nudges me to keep walking. “He always has to tell everybody that first thing.”
“I think I would too. This is great.” I’m completely sincere. They’ve built a paradise back here.
Joe nudges me again, a little harder than before. “Suck-up.”
Angus laughs.
Truth be told, Joe handles the cooking effortlessly and I’m the one being grilled. Where I’m from, and what brought me to town, and how do I know Andi. I tell them about her high school presentation, not our hookup, of course. When I mention the volunteer training, Joe’s all ears. “Man, I wanted to do that this round. Had a class out of town, though. Couldn’t make it. How do you like volunteering there?”
By the time I’ve finished telling him about working with the kids, the meat and fish and veggies are ready and the three women have got the patio table set up with everything else we need for a feast. Crusty bread with butter, thick slices of tomato with mozzarella and basil leaves and curling slivers of purple onion, pitchers of fresh-squeezed lemonade and iced tea—seems like it’s always sweet tea down here—and a bowl of well-seasoned rice. I could learn some serious cooking tricks from these folks.
Andi touches my elbow and peers at me, smiling a little, as we settle at the table. I smile back. I like her friends and I like her checking on me.
We pass around platters and fill our plates, and then it’s the women’s turn to grill me. The guys answer the questions they’ve already asked me, which is good of them, because it lets me save my energy for the women’s much more dangerous questions. I’m mostly ready for those; I’ve seen my sisters and sister-in-law in action enough times to know what’s coming.
July leads off. “What’d you think of the shelter training? Did you learn a lot that was new to you about domestic violence?”
Damn, smooth. She’s giving me a chance to say whether I’ve had personal experience with it, without being too nosy.
I nod, swallowing my bite of melt-in-your-mouth salmon. “I learned a ton. Andi and the other trainers were amazing. I kinda think everybody should go through that training.” They’re all quiet, eating and listening, so I go on. “Made me realize I’ve seen some of the red flags with my students. Also with people I knew when I was in school. Made me think real hard about what to do in the future when I see that stuff.”
“What kind of red flags?” Rose pops a bite of grilled zucchini in her mouth, her big brown eyes on me.
“Oh, you know—lotta jealousy, or someone trying to isolate their partner or control how they dress or who they talk to.” Naming these things, I think of a few more instances I’ve seen. “I see it everywhere, now that Andi and her crew made it visible to me.”
July nods, her expression sober. “It is everywhere.” She tears off a hunk of bread, butters it, and holds it up for Joe to eat it from her fingers. “It didn’t bother you to hear about it? Lot of guys get all defensive when women talk about it. Like they’re being accused themselves.”
I shake my head. “No. I just feel bad for my ignorance all these years.”
July nods and leans against Joe, who slides his arm around her sturdy back.
“What would you do now if you thought one of your students was abusing another one?” Rose’s eyes are filled with intensity. This isn’t an idle question for her.
I pause with a forkful of salmon and rice halfway to my mouth. “Teachers are required to report if we know about abuse. But if I wasn’t sure enough to report right off, I guess I’d…try to determine whether it’s an emergency situation first. You know, like, do I need to intervene right now to stop someone from getting hurt?”
She’s very still, listening. Angus, on the far side of her, is watching her with what I think is concern. Maybe trying to make sure she doesn’t need him to do something or say something.
I settle my fork back on my plate and wipe my fingers with my napkin. “If there seemed to be immediate danger, I’d step in.” The privilege of being a big guy nobody wants to mess with, I see now. “But if there didn’t seem to be an immediate threat, I’d probably ask Andi for advice. Or Tisha. The vice principal. She’s great too.”
There’s a general murmur of agreement. They all know Tisha. Of course they do.
But enough about me. I want to know Andi’s friends, too. Their protectiveness is subtle but clear. They love her, and the feeling is mutual. So I ask what they do, and whether they all grew up in Galway, and how the couples got together. And they answer with a lot of laughter and teasing each other, and the afternoon stretches into early evening. We carry the food and dishes inside and come back out to get in the pool, and I’m enjoying their company so much I barely lose my power of speech when Andi takes off her cover-up and dips a toe in the water.
Her suit is severe, almost—a plain navy one-piece cut high at the hip and low in back—but on Andi it’s the perfect frame for the precious work of art that is her body. I wish I could preserve this moment. The sun is about to sink behind the trees on the west side of the yard. Andi’s wrapped her hair around her wrist, getting ready to fasten it back again, I think, and the long golden light makes her glow, glinting off that hair, highlighting her amazing curves.
Some people would say she’s too big, but they are ignorant asses who should not be allowed out on their own.
I feel like this is a holy vision. Like I should shield my eyes or drop to my knees and worship. Not just the way she looks, but the person inside that body. The serious, passionate, smart, amazing person.
Her eyes come up, find me where I’m standing by a chair, my hand clenched around my T-shirt, and she smiles. “It’s perfect! Come in.” She raises her arms and fastens her hair back, watching me as I drop the shirt and cross the flagstones to her.
I need to get in the damn pool before I embarrass myself.
We turn and jump, together.
The next couple of hours pass in a blur of laughter and teasing and, for me, pure, blinding lust. We play water volleyball—and damn, except for little Rose, these people are athletes! July makes me eat at least three spikes—and talk trash and just have fun. I touch Andi whenever there’s the slightest excuse, and I could swear she does the same.
When finally the mosquitoes begin to bite, we climb out and dry off. I’m almost reluctant to say goodbye to these people, except that I know by leaving I’ll have the drive home alone with Andi.
“Kevin, it was really nice to meet you. Come back anytime.” Rose may think she needs work on her manners, but they’re just fine. She’s a great, comfortable host. “Be good to our girl.”
I know better than to think she’s teasing about that last part, and I catch the tiny nods the others give at her words.
“I will.” Some mischievous part of me makes me add, “Besides, I hear if I’m not, she’ll hurt me.”
“What?” More than one person says it. They’re all staring at me, including Andi.
I paraphrase Steve Jackson mimicking high school Andi. “‘When a girl says no, you stop. Now back off. Your face already messed up my manicure once.’”
Angus bursts out laughing.
“How could I have forgotten about that?” July’s laughing too as she towels her hair.
“Where—Ohhh. You’ve been talking to Steve.” Andi shakes her head, grinning, not bothering to deny a thing.
Rose demands to hear the story, so July tells it while the rest of us gather our things. Rose seems delighted beyond all reason. “Damn, Andi. I wish you’d been my friend in high school.”
Andi stops smiling and gives her a hug. “Me too, Rose.” I don’t know what that’s about, but it’s really sweet to see. The love is strong in these folks.
July hands Andi back her empty brownie pan. “I’m telling you, Andi, if you’d just share that recipe, I could sell the hell out of those. Name ’em after your Gram…?” She wiggles her eyebrows.
Andi laughs. “Lemme think about it.”
July and Joe live close enough to walk home and they set off hand in hand, turning down our offer of a ride. We thank Rose and Angus again and climb into Andi’s car.
The sudden hush is disquieting.
“I really like your friends.”
She starts the car and smiles at me, then pulls smoothly away from the curb. “They’re great, aren’t they?”
I lean my head back against the seat, content to just be with her a little longer, but it seems like no time at all before she’s pulling up in front of my apartment building.
I can’t read her expression in the uneven parking-lot lighting, and I’m aching at the thought of saying goodbye so soon.
So for the second time in two days—maybe the second time in my life—I ask for what I want. “Wanna come in?”
She studies me for what seems like hours.
I touch her hand. “It’s okay if you don’t. I just didn’t wanna say goodbye yet.”
Her mouth quirks at one corner. “I don’t either. I was…trying to read your mind to know what the invitation entails.”
Fair enough. “Whatever you want. We can watch TV. Or talk. Or drink tea or do each other’s nails. Or you can kick my ass in a video game. I promise I won’t cry. Much. My niece can vouch for that.”
There’s that smile that turns me from a solid to a liquid. “Okay, then, sure.”