My Favorite Mistake(22)
He started beating out a rhythm with his foot and I joined.
Soap and water and a pretty girl,
We turn on the water and watch it swirl,
We’re… doin’ dishes, we’re… doin’ dishes,
Oooh, oooh, ooohhh,
Scrub, scrub, scrub, yeah,
Scrub, scrub, scrub, yeah,
Scrubby, scrubby, scrubby, scrub, scrub, scruuubbb
He ended the song with a little flourish and a bow. I clapped my wet hands, spraying both of us with soapy water. He was such a dork sometimes. The song was pretty terrible.
“See what you can accomplish when you’re not being an ass?”
“I had more suggestive lyrics, but I decided not to use them. You know, because I’m not being an ass.”
“Right.”
“But I’ll save them and sing them to you at a later point when I’m allowed assery again.”
“Okay.”
That stupid little song got stuck in my head, and Hunter sang it again, with me providing sound effects with pots and a wooden spoon.
“What are you doing out here?” Renee said, emerging from her room with her “study” look: dazed expression, hair in a clip and her ratty old UMaine sweatpants.
“Hunter has decided he’s not going to be an ass today, isn’t that nice?” I said.
“Is that even possible? No offense, dude.”
“None taken. I am fully aware of my asshattery.”
“Oooh, I like that. Asshattery. I’m gonna use that now,” Renee said, going to the fridge for an energy drink.
“Late night?”
“I have a test on auto-immune diseases. Want to see a picture of dermatitis herpetiformis?”
She was always trying to get me to look at gross disease pictures.
“Yeah, I think I’ll pass. I don’t know how you can eat and do that stuff,” I said.
Renee shrugged.
Darah came home a minute later, towing Mase by the hand.
“Oh look, it’s the fearsome twosome.” Renee got a little bitter whenever she saw happy couples. I wished she’d just call Paul, forgive him, have some awesome make-up sex, and be done with it. I’d much rather have Paul around and have Renee happy than not have him around and have to deal with crabby Renee.
“Are you doing dishes?” Mase said, gaping at Hunter.
“Why yes, I am.”
Mase looked at me as if it was my fault.
“Hey, his name is on the chore chart,” I said.
“You have a chore chart?” Mase said.
“It was Darah’s idea,” I pointed out.
“So that no one gets stuck with doing everything, and we’re held accountable,” Darah said.
“Hey, anything that can get this guy to do dishes is okay by me. Good job, Dare,” he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. She smiled in satisfaction.
“What is it with you people and nicknames? Do you have one for me?” Renee said. Sometimes we called her Nene, because we’d heard her mom call her that once when she visited, and Paul was the only one allowed to use it without getting a glare from Renee.
“How about Re? As in, ray of sunshine?” Hunter said. Smooth. “Or Ne? That’s cute, too.”
She thought about it for a second.
“I’ll take it.”
“So I’m bringing Darah home with me this weekend to meet Mom and Dad, so we’re gonna go together.”
Darah looked at him with a giddy-nervous smile. Wow, meeting the family was big.
“Wow, meeting the Masons. Big step, Mase,” Hunter said.
“I know,” Mase said, winking at Darah. “She’s going to do great.”
I was painfully curious about Hunter’s family, especially how he hadn’t grown up with his parents. He’d said they were dead, but when had they died? How old was he? Did he miss them? The questions had been running through my mind since he’d first told me they were dead.
Any way you sliced it, he didn’t want to talk about it. I could respect that, seeing as how I had plenty of things I didn’t want to talk about.
“Got any advice for me, Hunter?” Darah said.
“Just talk to John about technology stocks, The New York Times crossword, real estate, or World War II and you’re good.”
“Uhh,” Darah said, the panic clear in her eyes.
“I’m kidding. Although, you could talk to him about the real estate market. He loves British comedies, the Pats, Asian cooking, and classic cars.”
“Oh thank God. Cooking and cars. Got it. Although, I could have held my own with stocks.”
“You’re gonna do great. Don’t worry so much,” Mase said, flipping her hair.
Hunter’s eyes flicked over me before he lowered his voice. “Have you told her about Harper?” Like I couldn’t hear him. He was standing two feet away.
“Of course.”
Darah, Mase and Hunter all looked at me. Seemed I was the odd one out.
“Who’s Harper?” I said, asking the obvious question.
“My sister. She has cerebral palsy from a fall she had as a baby. It’s not a big deal, but our house is filled with ramps and equipment and stuff, so it’s better to prepare people ahead of time,” Mase said.
“How old is she?”
“Seven,” Mase said. I could feel Hunter watching my face, as if he was anticipating my reaction. How did he think I would react?
“So, anyway, that’s where we’re going to be this weekend. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Mase said.
“Okay,” Darah said, giving him a kiss.
I could hear Renee rolling her eyes.
“Bye, Dare.”
“Night, John.”
Mase nodded to the rest of us and left.
Darah sighed and leaned on the counter.
“John? Wow, I think you’re the first girl he’s ever let use the first name. You must be doing something right,” he said with a wink.
“Hunter,” I said in a warning tone.
“What? That wasn’t ass-y. It was playful.”
I pointed at him and narrowed my eyes. “You are on thin ice, Mister.”
“What are you talking about?” Darah said.
“Hunter is not supposed to be an ass for the rest of the day.”
She gaped at Hunter. “For real? Is that even possible?”
“Am I that much of a douche?” he asked us all.
“Yes,” we said in unison.
*****
“So, can I be an ass now?” he said at 10:30.
“Nope. You have to finish out the night. When you wake up tomorrow morning, go back to your asshat self. Until then, you have to be nice.”
He’d been surprisingly nice, letting me go first for the shower, and he’d put up our blow paintings on the back of the door. He’d even made me a cup of tea and brought it to me. It was like he was buttering me up, but I couldn’t figure out why.
“Nice is boring.”
“Nice is nice,” I said, not looking up from my e-reader. Hunter was busy with his guitar, just plucking random strings.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“So, what’s your meeting with Joe about?” I tried again. I’d been trying to squeeze it in, hoping to catch him off guard.
“Nice try, Missy. Just because I’m supposed to be nice, doesn’t mean I’m going to be a doormat.”
“It’s not being a doormat. It’s telling the truth.”
“Sometimes people don’t want the truth. Sometimes the truth is worse than a lie.” He set his guitar aside and climbed under his covers. Any moment now the boxers were coming off.
I had to agree with him on that. We’d been doing this dance around our separate secrets, getting close and then moving away. I didn’t know which one of us was going to slip up first.
Thirteen
I was disturbed from my Saturday morning solitary cartoon-watching by Hunter ripping the door open, looking frantic and carrying his guitar case. That was a first.
“Can I borrow your car?”
“What’s wrong with yours?” It was early, and I hadn’t had my coffee yet. I’d been planning on vegging out for a few hours, since I had the place to myself. Renee was home for the weekend, and Darah and Hunter were supposed to be visiting the Masons.
Or so I had thought.
“It won’t start and I have to get home. Can I have your keys, please?” he said, holding his hand out as if I was just going to pass them to him, no questions asked.
Oh no. There was no way I was letting this guy drive Sassy, my red Charger. No effing way.
“I’m not letting you drive my car,” I said, crossing my arms. “No one drives Sassy, but me.”
“Your car is named Sassy?” he said, and then shook his head. “Never mind, I’ll ask about that later. Will you please let me borrow your car? I have to get to Bar Harbor.”
“You’re not driving my car.” That was one line no one crossed. Not even Tawny.
Hunter looked like he was going to blow up and yell. Instead he dropped the guitar case, reached down, grabbed my hand, and pulled me to my feet.
“Fine, you drive.”
I tried to pull away from him, but it was early, and he was strong and determined and I didn’t have my wits about me yet.
“No way, I’m not driving you to Bar Harbor.”
“Then I’m taking your car. It’s your choice, Missy. Either take me, or I take the car.”
“You’re not going to steal my car,” I said.
“Missy, I can hotwire it if I have to.”