Vice(34)

"You didn't." He kept his gaze on my foot, still cradled in his hands.  "Do you remember eleventh grade, you got in trouble for forging your  dad's signature on the permission form to be on the yearbook staff?"

"No." I laughed. "But if you say I did-."

"The English teacher, hell if I can remember her name, called your dad  down to the school to verify the signature and he said there was no way  he would have signed anything because all women were good for was making  babies and keeping house and if he had his way you wouldn't even be in  school." He scraped his thumbnail over the ball of my foot but absently,  as if he couldn't quite seem to keep his hands still but he didn't know  what to do with them, either. "And you were embarrassed, I know,  because your face was so red, but you just took his arm and led him back  outside and then came in and apologized for him-you said something  about how he was never at his best before his noon drink-and went back  to your desk and nobody ever questioned any of the signatures on your  forms ever again."

"Now I remember." It was a hazy memory, one of those that had faded over  time the way most memories about my father had faded, but it became  cleared the longer he'd talked. I pressed my thumb to his lower lip,  smiling when he kissed the digit. "That wasn't some act of rebellion or  bravery, Abraham. That was just the reality of my life. It's a lot  easier to shrug off benign neglect than to stand up to outright abuse."

"Jeannie-."

"Your parents were abusive. Mine were just... gone." I shrugged. I'd  come to some kind of peace with them long ago. I'd taken classes in  college and had a roommate who liked to psychoanalyze me when she was  drunk, the way all budding psychology majors do. I wouldn't say it was a  perfect peace but it was better than nothing. "It's a lot easier to  find closure for a situation when you find a way to remove yourself from  the situation."

"Jeannie-."

"You don't want me to go because you don't want me to go, that's fine." I  shifted until I was sitting firmly in his lap, twining one arm around  his neck and pressing my forehead to his. "But if you don't want me to  go because you're trying to save me from dealing with people who are, by  all accounts, in the top ten of worst parents ever, then we have a  problem because no way am I letting you spend an afternoon with monsters  just to save your pride."

"Now who's being all bossy and authoritative?" His voice was a little  lighter-not a lot, not even close to his normal tone, but it was enough  to loosen the tiny knot of worry in my stomach. He wrapped his arms  around me, squeezing me tight, rocking slightly. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." I laughed when he dipped me toward the sofa, my  hair slipping out of my topknot and spilling over the cushions. "For all  you know, one of your parents will say something which will send me off  on a rant and we'll all wind up yelling at each other."         

     



 

"That would make for a far more entertaining lunch than I'm used to  having there." He braced one elbow on the cushion next to my head,  brushing my hair out of my eyes with his free hand. "I hope you don't  think it's presumptuous but I have my clothes and stuff in the car."

"Are you asking if you can stay the night?"

"Maybe." His smile faded, a hint of worry creeping in to his eyes.  "Unless you're going to tell me ‘no', in which case we can pretend this  conversation didn't happen."

It was probably stupid, letting him spend the night. This wasn't a hotel  room. We weren't drunk. We couldn't explain this away as anything other  than what it was.

But I couldn't send him away when he looked so sad and lost and tired.

"I'm going to go soak in my brand new bathtub which, by the way, has  multiple jets." I sat up, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Make sure  you lock up when you come back inside. And turn off all the lights  except for the one at the foot of the stairs. I don't want my first  utility bill to send me in to a swoon."

"Okay." He stood, pulling me with him, some of the misery in his face slipping away. "I get the left side of the bed."

"I know." I nudged him toward the front door. "Go on, now. And don't forget about the locks."

I watched him leave, wondering if I could remember to do the same thing with my heart.





CHAPTER TWENTY TWO





The next morning, I woke slowly, drifting between sleep and wakefulness,  for some reason not bothered by Abraham's breath ruffling the hairs on  the nape of my neck. We'd started out on our separate halves of the bed  but at some point in the night he'd turned to me, draping himself around  me and cuddling me tight like a favorite stuffed animal. Instead of  wiggling away or elbowing him, I'd simply adjusted to a more comfortable  position and slipped back in to dreams.

One more thing for me to ponder at a later date. Right now, I had other  things to worry about. Like church. And lunch with Abraham's parents.

While I was still trying to think of the best way to slip out of bed  without waking him up-because I was already well aware of his preferred  method of clearing out the cobwebs, so to speak-the bedroom door flew  open and Dolly sprinted in, Conway hard on her heels. Before I had time  to prepare myself, they both climbed on the bed and pounced on me, the  combination doing nothing to help my bladder. Grasping my face between  her hands, Dolly leaned down and half yelled, "Wake up, Aunt Jeannie!"

"I'm awake, I'm awake." Considering the volume at which she'd uttered  her command, there was a good chance half the neighborhood was awake  now, too. When my lips started to twitch, I pressed them in to a thin  line and attempted a scowl. "Didn't we have a discussion about  knocking?"

"No?" She beamed at me but I wasn't fooled. All four of the kids had  tells when they were lying-well, two of them did, anyway. Conway barely  spoke so when he did I always assumed he was telling the truth and Kitty  was so grateful to be out of her parents' house she'd probably bite her  tongue before lying. Tammy, though... she got flustered and indignant  and even more uppity than usual and Dolly just smiled and acted as if  she didn't have a clue what you meant. My younger niece bounced a few  more times and said, "It's already seven thirty and we have to eat  breakfast and take a bath and get dressed and go so we aren't late  because it's bad if you're late and-."

"Dolly, breathe." Abraham's voice was thick with sleep and his aim when  he lifted his hand to pat her head was a little off but Dolly stopped  talking. "We're awake. We're getting up. Take your brother, go  downstairs, and figure out what we're having for breakfast. You're in  charge of the menu."

"Me?" You would have thought he offered her the moon and the stars. She  scrambled off the bed, tugging the still silent Conway after her,  already chattering to him-or herself, since God only knew if her brother  was paying attention to her-out of the room and down the hall, her  voice fading away after a few seconds.

"You're going to regret giving her so much authority when she wants crepes or eggs Benedict or something else fancy schmancy."

"Is ‘fancy schmancy' the official terminology for such things or are you  taking pity on a poor, uneducated yokel like myself?" Instead of  following the kids' example and getting out of bed, he pulled me closer,  resting his chin on my shoulder and sighing. "Do we have to go to  church?"         

     



 

"Given the choice between listening to the pastor talk about hellfire  and brimstone and listening to Tammy complain, which would you choose?"

"I see your point." And yet neither one of us moved, the only sound in  the room for long minutes the incessant chirping of some bird in the  tree outside the bank of windows running along one wall. Finally, he  cleared his throat and said, "Last chance to get out of lunch this  afternoon."

"You're going to annoy me if you keep doing that." I sat up, somewhat  disappointed when he let me, his arm falling away. Shoving my hair out  of my face, I turned and glanced down at him, frowning at the picture he  made stretched out on my bed, all piercings and tattoos and  sleepy-eyed, looking as at home there as he did behind his bar. "I said  we were going. We're going. At this point, I'm going just because you  keep trying to convince me to not go."

"You are something of a perverse creature." He reached over and squeezed  my thigh but in a soft, companionable sort of way, not a way to get the  blood going. "I know you think you can handle pretty much anything  because of how you grew up and how people in town are but my parents-my  father, really-are a different kind of breed."

"Duly noted but it doesn't change my mind." I leaned down and pressed a  quick kiss to his cheek before sliding off the bed. "I'm going to grab a  quick shower before seeing what ridiculousness Dolly has dreamed up for  breakfast." I snapped my fingers and shook my head when he flashed me a  grin. "That's not an invitation to join me. We don't have time for sex  this morning."