2. Cameron
2
CAMERON
“ Fuck !” I yell, scrambling to block the water shooting out of the pipe as fast as I can. It’s erupting like a fire hydrant, and my mind goes blank for a minute just watching it. I contemplate letting it flood the bathroom and calling it a day on the remodel.
“ Fuck !” I scream even louder this time, but it’s more out of frustration than surprise. I quickly run down the stairs of my childhood home and outside to turn off the main water line, suddenly questioning every decision I’ve made in the past several months.
Scratch that. At the moment, I’m thinking about every single thing I’ve done in my life and trying to figure out how I ended up here as I rub my hands down my face.
With a heavy sigh, I bring my hands down and uncover my eyes only to find two sets, the same color as mine, staring right back at me. There’s a mix of concern and laughter on their faces, and I’m pretty sure they’re wondering if this is when I’ll finally reach my breaking point.
There have been a lot of these moments in the last year. More than I want to admit in the last month alone.
“Sorry, girls. Daddy said a bad word, and we don’t want to repeat the bad words Daddy says when he gets upset. Okay?” I use whatever telepathic powers I may possess to plead with their little minds to please let this go and not turn it into a fifteen-minute explanation of why or why not they shouldn’t do certain things.
“Okay, Daddy,” both girls say in unison.
Thank God.
It’s only then I realize that they’re outside with me when they should’ve been inside and that they’re covered in mud. Some dry and caked on and some very fresh and wet. I take a deep breath and try to center myself so I can tackle this without losing it. God, my sanity is hanging on by a thread right now.
I open my eyes and kneel in front of them so we’re eye level.
“Girls,” I say slowly and calmly, reining in all my frustration. It’s not their fault. “Daddy told you to stay in the living room and watch TV while he worked upstairs in the bathroom for a little while. Remember?” I’m met with complete silence. It’s as if I’m speaking another language, and it just doesn’t register with them.
Mackenzie, my six-year-old, looks down at her feet, while Addy, my four-year-old, flashes me her cheesiest smile. Damn, they’re cute. I look at them, suddenly worried. “Girls? What happened?”
“Nothing happened, Daddy. We got bored watching TV, so we came outside to make mud pies,” Addy replies. I can’t help but admire the honesty of a four-year-old and their lack of reading the room.
Mackenzie finally makes eye contact with me and sweetly mutters, “ Sorry,” under her breath. I can’t even be mad at them. Their lives haven’t exactly been fun and games the past few weeks. Organizing a funeral and moving back home has left little time and attention for the two little girls standing in front of me.
“It’s fine, girls. Just remember to ask next time. I don’t want you playing outside unsupervised. You guys can get hurt. Living on a farm is a lot different from living in the city.”
“But we weren’t unsupervised, Daddy. That nice lady from Grandpa’s funeral said hi to us and has been sitting over there watching us.” Mackenzie turns and points at my neighbor’s yard.
I see little Lizzie Montgomery sitting under the big oak tree between our houses and send her a wave as she starts to walk over. The thing is…She isn’t so little anymore. She is a full-fledged woman. That particular realization knocked me on my ass when I saw her for the first time in a long time a few weeks ago.
The Lizzie I remember was a teenager. All gangly limbs and braces. I remember her hanging out with my sister Morgan every once in a while. Two braids in her hair and baggy overalls covered in paint or something. She hadn’t even graduated high school the last time I saw her.
Scratch that. I actually saw her when I came back home before Mackenzie was born. I was feeling a lot of pressure about becoming a dad, and Renee and I were not on the same page when it came to life in general. I needed to get back to my roots and be with my dad. Get some advice and reset before the next chapter of my life began. Lizzie had just graduated high school, I think, and was helping her parents with something outside. I remember thinking she had grown up overnight and that so much had changed while I was away.
She was beautiful then—she’s even more beautiful now.
She’s a stunning woman that I can’t help but steal glances at whenever I can. Her all-natural beauty is sexy, with subtle curves, full lips, and pretty brown hair. And freckles. She’s covered in the cutest fucking freckles I’ve ever seen.
It’s like she doesn’t know how jaw-droppingly gorgeous she is, though. She’s so down-to-earth and humble in the way she carries herself, something I’m not used to anymore considering my lifestyle and ex-wife.
Enjoying the view is as far as I can let it go. I have no business thinking about someone ten years younger than me. Plus, I don’t have room in my life for a woman. I’m barely staying above water as it is.
“Thanks for keeping an eye on them, Lizzie. I hadn’t realized they were outside. They know better than to do that,” I say once she’s reached my yard, looking down at my girls, trying to defend my parenting for some reason. It’s painfully obvious to everyone that I’m holding my life together by a thread right now.
“No problem, Cameron. It was fun watching them cover themselves in mud. Took me back to my childhood days. I used to love doing that.” She laughs, the sound melodic and comforting.
It’s almost as if she heard my thoughts and said that last part to remind me she isn’t a little kid anymore. Like I need a reminder. Tempting me to make a move. As if I could.
“Fuck me.”
The girls giggle and smile big, and Lizzie gives me an awkward grin, like she isn’t quite sure what’s going on.
Wait, did I just say that out loud?
“Daddy, that’s a bad word. You can’t be saying that, remember?” Addy looks mighty proud of herself for confirming that I did, in fact, say that out loud.
“Yes, Addy, you’re right. We don’t say bad words.”
For the twentieth time today, I wonder why I decided to move back to my hometown. I clearly wasn’t prepared for all it entails.
Looking at the girls covered in mud kind of answers that for me.
Living in a high-rise in Chicago would have never given them the chance to do this. I wanted to give them a childhood filled with making messes and freedom and family. My childhood was the best. My sisters and I loved every second of it. I want my girls to have that too. They need it. They deserve it after all they’ve been through.
So, I put my frustrations aside and look at the big picture, knowing this overwhelming stress won’t last forever.
I take a deep breath to reset. I need to go to Red’s Hardware Store so I can fix my busted pipe, and I need to get the girls clean so I can get them in the car to go. But I can’t get them clean if the water needs to stay off before it floods the house.
Fuck.
Yeah, the deep breath didn’t work. I’m in a mood again. I turn around and face my very hot neighbor, hoping I’m not overstepping just because we live next door to one another.
“You free for half an hour, Lizzie?”
She moves her head up and down in response but doesn’t say a word.
“I had to turn the main water line off because a pipe burst upstairs in the bathroom. Would you mind watching the girls play in the mud some more while I run to town and get what I need to fix it?”
Lizzie nods again. “Of course, I can,” she finally spits out.
“Thanks. You have no idea how much you’re helping me out right now.” I turn to the girls. “Be nice to Miss Lizzie, and don’t get into trouble, okay?”
When they both nod, I go inside to grab my keys and wallet from the kitchen counter.
Lizzie is next to the girls in the yard now when I make it back outside. I try not to look her up and down—and fail—as I thank her again and tell her I’ll be quick. She’s wearing a pair of frayed cut-off shorts and a baggy old concert T-shirt with more holes in it than I can count. It shouldn’t be sexy, but it is. Every gap in the fabric is exposing her creamy skin underneath, and I can’t help but think about how soft it must be and imagine running my hands over it.
God, I must be really pathetic or really horny if the sight of a square inch of skin is making my blood pump south.
Considering it’s been a while since I’ve had sex and I don’t really have the privacy to jerk off that often because of the girls, I’m going with horny.
Ridding any thoughts of Lizzie’s skin from my mind, I jump in my truck and drive off the farm. Within ten minutes, I’m driving on Brantley Falls’ main road that leads into the town center.
I’ve been a bit of a homebody since moving back, and I know I need to get out more, but damn, being met with pitying looks and constant condolences puts me back into the hole that I’m trying to crawl out of. I know they mean well. I get it, I really do. I just don’t want to be reminded that my dad is gone when I have to get groceries or gas or when I’m just grabbing a bite to eat with the girls at Beth’s Diner.
Being back on the farm is hard enough. Everywhere I turn, I see him. Everything is a reminder that he’s gone. My best friend. The best dad in the world. The man I strive to be for my girls—the dad they deserve. It just doesn’t seem to be getting any easier.
I need to file this under thoughts for another day since I have bigger issues awaiting me at home if I don’t get this pipe fixed.
After parking in front of Red’s Hardware Store, named after the owner Walter, who has bright red hair and just decided to stick with the nickname he was pinned with as a kid, I steel my spine and mentally prepare myself.
Before I even get across the sidewalk, I run into Karen Crosby. We briefly dated in high school, but I seriously don’t have the time or patience for her today.
“Hey, Cam-Cam.” She sidles over in her skintight dress and red lipstick, looking like she’s going out to a club on a Saturday night. It’s Tuesday afternoon, for God’s sake.
I keep my stride long, showing no sign of slowing down so she understands that I’m in a hurry and don’t have time to chat and blurt out, “Hey, Karen.”
She then proceeds to ignore my body language and comes to stand in front of me before I can make it to the door. I inwardly wince.
Fuck me. I can’t catch a break today.
“Slow down, Cam-Cam. Let’s talk for a minute. We haven’t had a chance to catch up since you moved back. You wanna go grab a beer or a glass of wine so we can chat?”
“It’s two in the afternoon, Karen,” I say as nicely as I possibly can while cringing at her annoying pet name for me.
“We’re both adults, Cam. We can drink in the afternoon if we want to.” She puts her hands on her hips and huffs like she’s a child not getting their way. “Neither one of us is working. We have no immediate obligations. Live a little.”
I’m stunned. Too stunned to speak. I just stare at her for a good ten seconds.
Is she being serious?
My mind finally stops short-circuiting, so I decide to give it to her straight because I seriously don’t have the time for this.
“Karen, I can’t grab a drink with you. I have to get something from Red’s and head back home. Plus, let me remind you that I have two daughters, so I do, in fact, have obligations. And just because I’m retired from the NFL doesn’t mean I don’t have responsibilities. So, forgive me if I can’t live a little .”
I go to step around her, but she stops me again. “Don’t be mad. It was silly of me to think you aren’t a busy man.” She steps even closer and touches my arm now. “Maybe you can get a babysitter and take me out this weekend. We can get acquainted with each other again after all these years.”
I gently remove her hand—tipped with fire-engine-red fingernails that are at least an inch long—from my forearm and step away.
“Karen, it’s kind of you to ask, but I’m just not interested. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. Plus, I don’t have a babysitter.” I add the last part, hoping it drives my case home and she gets the hint that I’m just not into her.
It’s not that Karen isn’t hot. She is. She’s got a rocking body, with a total pinup, hourglass shape. Big boobs, trim waist, and big ass. But that’s about all she has going for her. She hasn’t changed at all since high school, and she’s still a mean girl. There was a reason why it never got serious between us. I saw her for the real person she was and had no interest in getting caught in the inevitable drama of her life.
“Well, who’s babysitting your kids right now?”
Fuck me.
Can I get a swear jar for my head or something?
“My neighbor is watching them. I had to run out real quick to get a new fitting for my bathroom pipe since it burst. I’m actually in a hurry, so I need to get going.”
“Your neighbor? Little Lizzie?” She laughs. “She still has a crush on you, huh? God, that girl is so pathetic. I can’t figure out why the whole town is so in love with her.”
Maybe because she’s not like you , I think but I don’t say it out loud. Karen is relentless and cruel and clearly doesn’t take a fucking hint.
“Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but Lizzie is doing me a solid right now, and I need to get back home so she can get back to whatever she was doing. I’ll see you around.”
I turn around and finally walk through the door, successfully escaping her. But not without hearing her parting words, which send a shiver down my spine. And not the good kind.
“Oh, you will definitely see me around, Cam.”
And again, fuck me.
The last thing I need is to be in the sights of Karen and her stupid, petty games.