24. Clint
It took some negotiation with Regina to be able to pick Dee up Saturday morning, rather than Sunday. I didn’t mention that I wanted her here tomorrow for a picnic a bunch of us were having—it would be a good chance to give Dee some fun—but I did point out it would be better for her to have a day at home, settled, before school started.
As Dee and I started the drive home, several pieces of luggage secured in the back seat, she cranked the radio.
I turned it back down. There were times when blaring was fine, but not like that, and not with her in the car.
“It’s okay,” she said. “If you want, you can sing along at the top of your lungs and be embarrassing.”
“I don’t. Not right now.”
“Hmm. Maybe you’re sick.”
I glanced sideways at her. Was that sarcasm or a new joke she’d picked up? Her tone and flat posture didn’t make me think it was either.
“Mom had a moving truck at the old house last night.” Dee’s voice was tight.
I wasn’t sure about the reference. “The old house?”
“Mhm. The one I don’t live in anymore. She had them pack up all my stuff.”
What? Funny how Regina didn’t mention that to me. My irritation surged. I wanted to call Regina, or turn the truck around and go back to ask her what the fuck, but not in front of Dee.
“What else did you do yesterday?” I asked.
Dee shrugged. “Packed up all my stuff in the old house.”
That confirmed for me, Regina’s Park City place was the old houseas of today, apparently. I hated hearing that hint of resentment in Dee’s voice.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.
“Not really.”
Excellent. Not.
We drove in silence the rest of the way home. I was bringing her bags into the house when a small moving truck pulled up out front.
“That’s where we put my stuff from the old house.” Dee sounded dispassionate.
Fucking Regina. What was I going to do with a second set of Dee’s furniture, without any warning? “Which furniture do you want to use?” I asked as the driver approached the house.
Dee scowled. “I don’t want anything from Mom if she hates me.”
“Mom loves you.” I hated saying that without being able to explain the nuance behind it. “She just shows it differently. She sent your things so you’d have familiar here if you wanted it.” Or Regina sent them because offloading them on me without warning was easier than figuring things out on her own. That was for the phone call and inevitable fight, later.
“Sure she does.” Dee turned away. “I don’t want any of that crap.” She stormed to her room.
“Dee.”
“You Clint?” The driver had reached the door.
I swallowed a growl and faced him. “I am.”
“Where do you want this stuff?”
“Honestly? Don’t know yet. No one warned me it was coming.”
The driver shook his head. “Not my job. Not my problem. I’ll stick it in the driveway.”
“No reason to do that if I’m going to have you move it again in half an hour.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I have another appointment this afternoon. I’ll leave it in your driveway.”
Fuck.
I watched in frustration, and listened to Regina’s phone ring and go to voicemail again and again, as a kid’s bedroom set was stacked on the concrete in front of my garage.
Regina wasn’t answering, and I refused to leave her a message. If I wanted anything I shouted at her to be real time, and it wasn’t as if she would wonder why I was calling.
Aubrey arrived while the mover was finishing things off—she was here to talk to Dee about modifying the shirts from Brodie for dance. She looked between him and me. “Impromptu yard sale?” She sounded skeptical.
That was tempting. “Fucking Regina. I don’t have any idea where to put it.”
The mover closed up his truck.
Aubrey grabbed her phone, as the mover walked toward us.
He shoved a clipboard in my face.
I didn’t want to sign it, but it wasn’t his fault my ex-wife pulled this shit.
“Hey,” Aubrey said into her phone as the mover walked away. “I need a favor.” There was a pause and a light ha. “No, not that.” Aubrey glanced at me, pink dotting her cheeks. “Can Clint stash some furniture in your place for a while?… Like a few days or a month? Not sure yet… That would be awesome, too. You’re the best. Mwah.” She hung up, but didn’t put away her phone.
“Good news?”
Aubrey was texting with someone. “Evie says there’s plenty of room in her living room and kitchen, and that Sawyer will drop the keys off and help you move.... And Brodie will be here soon too.”
I let a tiny sigh of relief escape. Evie’s was only a few doors down, and was recently empty since she and Sawyer moved in with Gage. I understood a lot of her furniture was still there, since she had the same problem as me, but on a larger scale—two sets—but I was grateful for the temporary storage.
And even more so that we could borrow an extra set of hands. Since Saturday tended to be busy on Main Street, a lot of our friends were working. Aubrey had only taken the day because Dee was coming home.
I was also excited to see Brodie again. Giddy in a way that caught me off-guard.
While we were waiting, Levi, the Chief of the Fire Department, parked in front of my house in the spot the moving truck had just vacated. “You havin’ a yard sale?” he asked as he approached.
Like everyone on the fire department aside from Levi, I volunteered. Or, I had during the last school year. That would change with Dee being home full time. “It’s Dee’s. We’re moving it into storage down the street.”
“Huh.” Levi didn’t seem surprised by the explanation of random furniture. He even offered to stick around and help.
There wasn’t much to do, but with the small group of us, we managed to relocate everything before the rain started again.
I thanked Sawyer and Levi, and offered to buy them lunch.
“You don’t owe us. Ever,” Levi said. “This is what we all do for each other.”
I’d seen it again and again in this community and it was one of the many reasons I was grateful I moved back after the divorce. “Thanks again.” I sent the men on their way.
“You can buy me pizza. I can buy us pizza,” Brodie said after they were gone.
Aubrey wrinkled her nose. “Fifteen years ago, you’d never be able to convince me I’d ever say this, but I think I’m pizza’d out.”
“You don’t need a little extra sausage in your life?” I teased.
Aubrey laughed. “I didn’t say that. I’m not going to turn down good meat.”
“Gage’s then?” Brodie asked.
I wasn’t sure if he was playing along.
“Pretty sure Gage’s meat is taken.” Aubrey looped her arms through each of ours and tugged us inside. “And he’s not my type anyway.”
“What is your type?” I had at least a little bit of an idea, especially after the fun we had the other night with our dollar store finds.
She paused and looked me over, and then turned to Brodie, and gave him a similar appraising scan. “What types are you?”
That made me grin. “Oh, I think you know.”
Brodie let out a long, exaggerated groan. “I meant should we get lunch from Gage’s.”
“So Aubrey’s not the only one suffering from a meat deficiency.” Now I knew Brodie was playing along. There was nothing specific, just an overall feeling. We should stop the innuendo before Dee caught us, but it was fun. And easy. Like most everything with Aubrey and Brodie. “Gage’s is good. Let me ask Dee what she wants.”
It wasn’t a big house, and the bedrooms were behind the living room and kitchen, so it was mostly a matter of me stepping around the corner to her door, and knocking.
“What?” Dee sounded grumpy.
“We’re getting food from Gage’s Grub. What do you want?”
“Nothing. I’m never eating again.”
“You have to eat, Dee.”
“No. Never again.”
I sighed and returned to the living room. “Cheeseburger and fries for me. Grilled cheese with tomatoes and bacon for her. Lots of cheese fries.”
“Are you…” Brodie trailed off. “Got it.”
I’d lure Dee out with food when lunch got here.
That only took about fifteen minutes, and then I was back at her door, knocking again.
“I said I’m not hungry,” Dee called.
Negotiation time. “Come out and eat one bite, and then you can stop if you don’t want anymore.”
“Fine.” Dee opened her door and brushed past me, to join Aubrey and Brodie in the kitchen. She gave them a quiet hello, and took her seat.
The conversation stalled while she took the tiniest nibble of the corner of her sandwich and then sank in her chair with crossed arms.
“A real bite, Dee.”
“That was a real bite.”
Sigh.
“Ack.” Aubrey let out a mild squeal, drawing Dee’s attention. “It’s cheesier than normal.” Aubrey was using a fork to pull a fry from the container in front of her, and strings of melty cheddar stretched from the food. “Double ack.”
It looked like she was trying to eat without getting cheese all over her chin, but she didn’t succeed. She grabbed for a napkin immediately, and chewed for a moment. “Totally worth it.” The napkin muffled her words.
Dee worked her jaw and shifted her eyes back and forth. Whatever war was raging in her head, the victor was clear when she said, “Can I have one?”
“Help yourself.” Aubrey slid her the container.
I was relieved when Dee decided she was hungry after all, and went from the fries to the sandwich. Hopefully, this would be a long-term side effect of having her here more often. We wouldn’t go through the I’m not eating, I’m too fat argument at least once a week, right after she came back from her mom’s.
A few minutes into the meal, I nudged Dee’s foot under the table. “Hey. Aubrey had Kylee Cyprus in her store the other day.”
Dee’s eyes grew wide. “No way. Is she cool? Is she cringe? Is she rad?”
I may not understand all of her slang, but it was funny to see some of the same phrases we used as kids make their way back into the lingo.
“She’s really nice,” Aubrey said. “Speaking of, I almost forgot.” She pushed back from the table, headed into the living room, and returned a moment later with fabric in a Ziploc bag. “I asked her to sign a bandana for you.”
Dee gasped. “Really? You’re the best. Thank you. Dad, can I put this in my room?”
“Probably a good idea,” I said.
She hurried to put her prize away, and returned quickly to finish eating.
When we were finished with lunch, the four of us moved into the living room.
“I have a surprise too, but I have to admit it pales in comparison to Aubrey’s.” Brodie shifted in his seat enough to reach into his back pocket. He pulled out what looked like a folded handkerchief until unfurled it. The large square was thin and flimsy.
“It’s fabric.” I felt like I should be more impressed.
Aubrey bent closer to rub her fingers over it, and tugged. It stretched. “It’s lightweight spandex or Lycra.”
“It’s Clint’s spider silk,” Brodie said. “I made some tweaks yesterday to one of Evie’s 3D printers, and came up with this. It works with the monitoring electronics from the shirts.”
Oh. Holy shit. I helped make that? Incredible.
“Dee. We could make you actual dance clothes out of that.” Aubrey sounded excited.
In a blink, Dee’s expression fell flat. “No thanks.”
“Are you sure?” Aubrey asked. “I know you have a lot of awesome ideas. You can help me design something and we can create it.”
Dee’s blank expression slid into a scowl. “I don’t want your stupid ideas or your stupid clothes. I don’t want you to pretend to be my friends so you and Brodie can get married and move away and leave me behind. I don’t want any of it. I want you to leave me alone.” She finished with a screeching shout, and ran out the front door.
Fuck. I chased after her. As I reached the front porch, she ducked around one side of the house, where a thick row of hedges separated us from the neighbors. I tried to follow, but she was smaller and faster, and stuck to the foliage. Within seconds, I lost sight of her, and there were at least four different directions she could have run in.
Did I let her go or grab the others to split up and chase?
And what was I supposed to do once one of us found her?