Chapter Forty-Nine

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Chapter Forty-Nine

TPOV

There was something about her actually saying it… Asking me for it.  I thought it wouldn’t get any better than her telling me she loved me.  Turns out there were four other words that were just as powerful: ‘Make love to me?’  

It was kind of a big deal—in more than one way.  Because there was so much behind it.  

Her asking me to make love to her was encompassed under this canopy of what I could only think to call self-awareness.  Not to mention that she did it in a place not even familiar to her.  We weren’t in my apartment.  She wasn’t under the safety net of someplace she was acquainted with…which meant that the venue didn’t even matter anymore.  She didn’t need the safety net.   

I couldn’t even remember the last time I slept without her.  

She made all of these huge strides whether she realized them or not.  She made the conscious decision to get a different job, and she became this uber-amazingly-more person.  What the fuck was I doing?  

I knew that I was the first real, mature relationship she had.  And I was employed and stayed that way; I didn’t bounce from job to job and I lived in the same place for years.  But as much as I thought of myself as an adult, could I even really call myself that?  I spent all of what should have been my entire college career squirreling away actual academia because it was easier not to do it.  The job I had was an exercise in futility; I just liked the books; it wasn’t as though that was going to be a career.  I had no goals for the future.  I still floated—that hadn’t changed.  Yes, I knew on some level I provided the stability that allowed Allison to get to where she was.  But being a floater wouldn’t be enough to keep her there.  And even if it was, I wanted to give her more than that.  I wanted to be stable in all the other ways that counted later.  

I’d been thinking about the school thing for a long time.  I’m sure on a lot of levels, I thought about it all along, but she made me serious about it.  

~ooOoo~

In what I thought was the most inappropriate time, on his obligatory stop to check in on Caroline in the midst of her crisis, my father had decided that was the perfect time to tell me we needed to discuss some medical bills he received.  I could guess they followed each other rather quickly, one being a certain ER visit and the other being a nicely titled Planned Parenthood bill.  I suppose together they didn’t look so good—not as though either should have shocked him.  He asked that I make a stop at his office this morning, and per usual, I was basically dreading it entirely.  Our last discussion had resulted in people separating us before punches were thrown, so it wasn’t high on my list of fun things to do.  Especially not when it meant sending Allison home without me.  

I still got there on time.  Because I honored commitments.  If all of his missed events taught me anything, it was the value of being on time.  

Naturally, he wasn’t.  I was outside of the building already when my phone rang.  

King Midas – Incoming Call

I was my normal, charming self.  “Are you running late or cancelling altogether?”

He sounded normal; largely emotionless.  “Are you already on your way?”

On my way?!  How did he actually run this business?  “I’m already here.”  

There was this short, weighted pause.  He knew by my tone I was pissed off.  “I’m taking Caroline to school.”  

It took a second for that to click.  And I honestly didn’t even know what to say at first.  “Uh, ok.”  I paused shortly, but I was smiling to myself.  It was probably nothing, but…could it be that our conversation actually made a difference?  “I’ll wait in your office.”

“It might be a while.”

“That’s ok.  It’s fine.”  He hung up without a goodbye, and I stared at the phone for a minute.  Not at all what I expected.  

I kinda couldn’t stop smiling in the elevator.  I suppose I was setting myself up for disappointment, but I’d done that most of my life.  I didn’t really care for myself anymore.  I just wanted Caroline to have a decent father.  

You’d think elevators for important financial people doing whatever the fuck it is they do would be faster to the millionth floor, but they were surprisingly slow.  It gave me way too much time to think.  By the time I got out of the elevator, I was kind of edgy.  Jumpy.  I passed the receptionist with my usual sarcasm that she never appreciated the way she should have, and rolled past the HAWKINS STEVENS JACOB emblazoned on the wall.  As a kid, I loved that my name was on a wall like that.  All huge letters and gleaming silver in the light.  As I got older I realized that it meant nothing, and was sort of just an extra fuck you that I shared the name and it was tacked on that wall like a brand.  

His office was meant to be impressive.  I had a vague recollection of playing at a desk like this; a monstrous, oak structure that seemed to take up the entire room.  At the time I probably pretended to be like him—important, yelling into phones, making deals—whatever a child would perceive that to be like.  I sat down in the chair behind it because it was sort of a golden opportunity to look out at life from Charles Hawkins’ viewpoint.  It felt odd to sit behind the desk now.  Like an ocean of memories and faults divided us.  It was a silly child’s game to sit behind a father’s desk and play ‘work.’  It felt just as silly now to sit there and try to fill his shoes.  A nauseating kind of amusement.  I wondered if that’s what Michael felt working here.  

His desk was actually rather sparse.  Phone, computer, lamp, a few portfolios.  

Curiosity got the better of me, I suppose.  

The mouse was just sitting right there.  Who knew what evil lurked behind the blackness of the sleeping monitor?  

The screensaver… I can’t explain my emotions.  A muddled mix of confusion, rage, puzzlement, uncertainty, misunderstanding, chaos, upheaval, understanding, love…

A continuous loop of my father and all of us as babies, little Michael with a little me, my Mom with Michael and a tiny Caroline, Caroline as a toddler, Michael as a teenager, me at soccer practice, Michael and me, Caroline and me, Michael, Mom, Caroline, Me, Caroline, Michael, Me, Me, Me…

“Good morning, Mr. Hawkins.”  

Janine.  Perhaps the one person in my father’s life that was always a constant.  She worked for him for longer than I could remember.  A devoted employee.  She obviously saw something that most of the rest of us didn’t.  She pulled me out of my disordered emotional uncertainty.  

“Did you know about these?” I asked her quietly.  

“Who do you think scanned them in?”  

I admired Janine’s straightforwardness.  She never minced words and she always seemed to genuinely care.  Not just about my father, but about me, too.

A picture of Michael with a guitar flashed, followed by one of him running around in Central Park.  “How old would he be?”

“Would have been 28 in May.  May 20th.”  

“I’m sorry.  I should remember that.”

Like she had anything to apologize for.  I felt like I should apologize.  I needed to get out of here.  Or at least out of this chair—this chair of disorientating feeling.  Like an inanimate object could ever be blamed for so much turmoil.  Better the chair I suppose…  

I got up, touching her elbow as I moved past her, a silent apology of sorts.  She didn’t push.  I walked to the window wishing that they could open and bring in some fresh air.  The air in here seemed stagnant and unforgiving.  I sort of felt like I’d been turned upside down.  Like the world was skewed from where it sat when I came in this office with all of my self-satisfying anger and resentment.  

I wasn’t completely wrong.  He was an absent father.  He didn’t show up when he was supposed to.  But my perception of his feelings was way off.  Most of the time I think I negated he even had any.  

I’m not sure how long I really waited, just staring out the window and thinking.  Janine had left—starting work no doubt.  When he came in, I don’t think he knew how to approach me, not sure of my mood or my reaction to him being late.  

“How did dropping Caroline off go?”

His face registered shock that I even asked.  It took him a second to answer.  When he did, he was smiling sadly.  “She didn’t talk to me at all.  Didn’t look at me either.  It was a very silent ride.  I suppose I should be used to that.”

“You have a lot to make up for.”  I really said it completely matter-of-factly.  There was no hidden animosity there.  

He didn’t seem to take it that way exactly, the boxing gloves back up.  His face registered the change, but it was too late for me to take it back, and I didn’t really want to.  We just didn’t communicate well anymore.  Maybe we never had.  

He got down to business.  “So I wanted to talk to you about a few medical bills that were passed on to me.  They’re paid,” he said shortly, waving his hand as though I had a question about that, or like that’s what we were really here for—he didn’t give a shit about the money.  “I just wanted to… They’re sort of concerning.”  

“I busted my hand and went to the ER.  That was the first one.”  I figured there was no reason to lie.  It wasn’t like my history of violent outbursts was news to him.  

“And how did you bust your hand?”

I remembered the picture of the stacked pyramid of me on the top, Michael in the middle and my father on the bottom at the beach and actively tried not to snap at him.  “I hit a guy that attacked my girlfriend.”  

He hadn’t actually been looking at me, but his head jerked up at that.  “You have a girlfriend?”

I smirked, blinking slowly.  “Yes.  Shocking, I know.”  

“What’s her name?”

“Her name is Allison.”  

“How long… Have you been dating long?”

“Over six months.”  

The wince was noticeable only to someone like me, I suppose.  Because over the years I’d worked hard at perfecting ways of making him do that.  It really hadn’t been my intention this time.  It was just another one of those facts.  

“That’s a long time.”  He said quietly.  

I didn’t owe him an apology for keeping that information from him.  Up until twenty minutes ago I was convinced he was an unforgivable asshole.  “It is.”  

“The Planned Parenthood bill…” he drifted for a second, “That’s not… She’s not…”

I shook my head.  “No.”  

He seemed visibly relieved.  And I had a hilarious image of him launching into the birds-and-the-bees talk.  Not that he ever did that.  It was just a hilarious thought.  

I tried again not to snap completely when his phone rang.  He looked at the display and glanced at me.  “I have to take this.”

I sighed, getting up.  Same old, same old.  I really shouldn’t have let my emotions take over.  This is what always happened.  Glimmer of hope before the rug was yanked out from under you a few minutes later.  It would never change.  

“Don’t leave, Tyler.  Just give me a few minutes.”  

I nodded, already tired of this morning, and walked to his office door.  I walked out and left the door ajar enough that I could hear what was so important he had to stop our conversation.  

I actually found myself sitting against the wall before I really knew it.  Because again, it was not what I expected.  Instead of a sales call, or some annoying bullshit about futures and securities, he was basically yelling at someone from Caroline’s school.  I couldn’t make out everything, but it was evident that it had nothing whatsoever to do with his business.  

When he finished, he pushed the door open and looked mildly hurt again before he saw me sitting on the floor.  “Oh,” he said quietly, a small smile on his face that I was still there.  

“What was that?”

He nodded for me to come back in the office.  “I called the school and unleashed a shit-storm of epic proportions on the Board of Trustees that will not abate until those girls seek enrollment elsewhere.”  He paused for a second, happy with himself that I seemed completely floored by what he was telling me.  “I give them a week.”  

This whole speechless thing was becoming far too common today.  

“Tyler, I know you think I’m a prick, but I have my uses.”  

I nodded.  “Yeah, I think you’re a prick most of the time but I’m really happy that you’re trying with Caroline.”  

“You were right.  What you said.  She needs to know that she’s important to me.”  

“That’s all she needs.”

“You’re important to me, too, Tyler.”  

I nodded, looking down.  I really don’t think I could deal with that today.  It was too much.  And there was still that part of me that wanted to protect itself in case that didn’t happen.  As long as he didn’t let Caroline down anymore, it was ok.  

“We were getting tested at the clinic.  Just routine but we both thought it was a good idea.”  I didn’t feel the need to share the real reason we’d gone there, although he could probably figure it out if he wanted to connect dots.  

I think he was going to say something else, but I just kinda barreled ahead.  “I love her.  We’re going to move in together.”  I hadn’t actually gotten around to asking her that, but I wanted him to know I was serious.  “And I want to go back to school.  For real this time.  Not auditing.  For actual credit with grades because I can’t just work at The Strand forever.”  

I never actually verbally asked my father for money.  It was always just assumed, or provided without anything actually being said.  I had no idea if he would have cut me off eventually if I decided to do nothing with my life, but I hope he understood exactly what it took for me ask.  “I’m asking for your help—with school and rent until I finish.”  

His elbow was on the desk, his fingers covering his mouth while he listened to me.  I couldn’t read his expression.  I wouldn’t ask again.  It was hard enough to do once.  If he knew me at all, he should know what this meant that I was asking.  What I was giving him.  The opportunity here was sort of staggering if I thought about it too much.  Basically our entire relationship hung on how he was going to deal with this.  I never needed him before.  Or I convinced myself that I didn’t.  

“You’re really serious about this?  About school?”

“Yes.”

“And this girl—Allison?”  

“Even more so.”  

He nodded a few times, thinking, appraising, I suppose.  “I’d like to meet her.”  

I wondered which one of us had given up first.  I couldn’t even remember.  I just remember anger and disappointment and a raging sense of blame.  It’s not like things had been great before Michael died.  Somewhere along the line resentment became all I could see when I looked at him.  Looking at him now, all I could see were the images he had Janine scan.  My formative years, the ones where I actually needed a role model—those were gone.  I was an adult now, yes.  I was also still a child.  I was his child.  And for the first time in a nearly a decade, I think I was ok with that.  

“We could have dinner.”  

He smiled.  “I’d like that, Tyler.”  

“When are you available?”

“How about tomorrow night?  Would that work?”  

“I think so, yeah.  I don’t think Allison works tomorrow, but if something changes, I’ll call you.”  

“Great.  I’m looking forward to meeting her.”  

I nodded and started to walk out.  

“Tyler?”

“Yeah?”  I was at the door, and halfway out of it already.  

“You know the answer is always ‘yes,’ right?”  He said it to my back; I hadn’t turned around.  

I let out a deep breath.  I’m not sure why.  I really didn’t have any question about what his answer was.  They were mostly unspoken, assumed.  And when he didn’t pitch a fit or question my motives, I figured as much.  It was still really awesome to hear him say it.  I looked back at him, nodding.  “Yeah, Dad.  I know.”  

I didn’t stick around for a response.  I hadn’t called him Dad in… I don’t even know how long.  Or if I had, it was a completely sarcastic, irritated way.  

Janine was in the hallway, coming towards his office.  She was smiling at me and put her hand on my arm as we passed each other.  “You know that just made his year, don’t you?”  She must have heard me.  

I had a soft spot for Janine, but I think that was completely mutual.  I shared in her smiling and ducked my head slightly.  “Gotta throw the old man a bone once every ten years or so, right?”

Figuratively speaking, it was quite a fucking bone.  I made the first move.  It was his play now.  Screw it up, and there wasn’t any going back.  So I hoped that was clear, too.  

“He won’t take it for granted, Tyler.”  Maybe instead of seeing things we didn’t, Janine was the only one that saw him clearly.  Or saw through all the bullshit.  

“I hope not.”

~ooOoo~

I wasn’t sure exactly how I felt on the way home.  I wanted to be upbeat.  I wanted to believe he’d show and that dinner would actually happen, much less go well.  Still, protecting myself was probably wise.  Just in case.  

I was kinda tired by the time I got to the apartment.  The last few days had sort of been an emotional roller coaster.  And there was a huge trek up all those fucking stairs.  We needed an elevator.  Or a first level apartment.  I suppose I probably shouldn’t have said anything to my father about Allison and me moving in together.  Because I hadn’t even fucking said anything to her yet.  Fucking hell, what if he said something at dinner?  I stopped walking up the stairs and actually had to hang onto the railing.  It wasn’t like I could call him back and tell him that part wasn’t true, or that I hadn’t asked her yet.  I didn’t want him to think it wasn’t a done deal.  That was a huge part of my seriousness about this relationship—that we were ready to make this big step.  But it was sort of imperative he didn’t say anything or else I was going to have to have this conversation with her now.  

I didn’t even know if she wanted that.  We hadn’t talked about it at all.  What if she thought I was planning shit out and not including her in it?  Like I was just turning into my father and doing shit without consulting anyone because I could, and he had the money to allow me to do that.  I should call him.  I should call him back and tell him that I hadn’t asked her yet.  Be honest.  What would they both think if he said something and she didn’t know?  What the fuck was I even talking about?  I hadn’t given a shit at all about him until an hour ago.  What did I care what he thought?  

Hyperventilation was totally possible just from panic, right?  Because I think the cold sweat was starting.  

Hey, so I told my dad we were totally moving in together to our own place to prove how serious I was about us.  Wanna check out apartments online with me?  I didn’t want me asking her to be a product of this.  I didn’t want to ask just because my father might say something.  What if she wasn’t ready?  I mean, this should be something we talk about.  Something we decide together.  It didn’t matter how long I’d been thinking about it.  It was just like the ‘I love you’ thing.  It had to be at a time when she was ready for it.  

Jesus Christ.  This dinner was going to be a total disaster.  I set this up for complete failure.  It was all gonna be over the second he said something about it.  Maybe he wouldn’t.  Maybe she wouldn’t notice.  God, I was losing my mind.  Like she wouldn’t notice?  I was fucked.  

“Hey.”

I jumped, literally, and looked to the left to the source of the greeting which was, of course, Allison.  She was sitting next to me on the step.  I didn’t even remember sitting down.  Shit.  

“You ok?”

I nodded, willing myself to actually form words.  I could feel my heart racing.  I wondered if she could hear it.  

She patted my knee before giving it a squeeze.  “C’mon.”  She stood, and put her hand out.  Blessedly, she didn’t seem to need me to talk.  

So I took her hand and got up because it was easier than sitting here and passing out from panic.  She shoved me to the couch and went off to the kitchen.  She had a bag with her, so she must have ran to the store.  

It was too warm in this room.  Or it could have just been that everywhere felt like there was no air at the moment.  She wasn’t gone long, and when she came back, she was handing me something before she plopped down next to me.  

It was a beer mug.  But it had too much foam and froth on the top of it to be just beer.  I turned my head to look at her, questioning wordlessly.  

“It’s a beer float.”  

“A beer float?”

“Yes.  Beer and ice cream.  Just thought maybe you might need it when you got home.  Stronger than root beer, all the awesomeness of ice cream.  Try it.  I think you’ll like it.”  

I blinked at her for a second and then looked back at the mug.  And then brought the mug to my lips, drinking down the best fucking beer foam I ever tasted before getting to the actual beer.  I couldn’t even describe the greatness that was this drink.  I sort of drank the entire beer in several large gulps.  And she produced a spoon like magic for me to eat the ice cream after.  I loved her so fucking much.  

“You want another one?”

I nodded, even though it was incredibly filling.  I felt better.  Just being with her made me feel better.  She went out to buy beer and ice cream to make me beer floats just because she thought I might need them after a meeting with my father.  And she never forced me to talk about something she knew might be difficult.  

She handed me another one and I basically downed that just the same, letting out an impressive belch after which only made her chuckle at me.  “You want something to eat, too?”  

“No, I’m good.  Thanks.”  

She grabbed the mug and set it on the table, curling herself closer to me, but still far enough away that she could see my face.  “Dare I ask how it went?”

“Surprisingly positive,” I said before really thinking.  

She beamed at me.  “That’s great!”

“Yeah, after I told him that I booked it to Planned Parenthood to get checked out for STDs so we could fuck bareback, he was all for it.  He wants to have dinner.”

The look on her face was priceless.  My delivery was flawless.  “You want me to get you a float?” I asked, teasing.  

“Dick.”  She shook her head at me.  “If it went well, why the stairs?”  She nodded off in the stairway direction.  

Well, shit.  I’d have to creatively evade some of the truth.  I sighed, the tiredness seeping in again.  “I think I’ve just spent so long expecting the worst, and setting up for the worst that when it goes well, I’m afraid it won’t stay that way.  Or my expectations are set to high that he can’t possibly deliver.  And then I’ll be crushed all over again, and protecting myself makes me even angrier the next time.”  

“That makes total sense.”  

I let my head fall to the back of the couch, my eyes slipping closed.  “I don’t want to be angry anymore.”  

She kissed my cheek.  “Letting go of anger is a really good thing.”  

I turned my head towards her, opening my eyes slowly.  And let out a huge breath I’d probably been holding since the stairs.  Her cheek was pillowed on her hand, her face close to mine.  She had a soft smile lingering there and her hand came up to rest on my cheek, her thumb tracing over my lips gently.  It was amazing how much calm she could exude like it just oozed out of her pores.  And at least for right now, I kinda didn’t care about dinner.  It would have to take care of itself and I could deal with whatever came from it if it actually did.  

I nudged myself closer to her, nuzzling into her nose and she closed the rest of the gap, kissing me gently.  “I’m glad it went ok.”  

We didn’t really move at all when we parted.  “Me, too.  Thanks for the float, too.  That was incredibly thoughtful.”  

She shrugged.  “You must be rubbing off.”  

I smiled, but was quiet for a while.  I loved that she didn’t pull away, and didn’t prod for me to tell her anything, just giving me the time I needed if I wanted to.  And I think she would have just sat there with me not saying anything just the same.  

“I think I was wrong about my dad,” I said quietly.  

“What made today different?”

I loved two things about her response: She told me she agreed without actually saying it and she didn’t make me feel like shit about being wrong, either.  “I dunno.  Maybe I was less angry to start.  He took Caroline to school, so he was late for our meeting.  And then he took a call from the school and chewed them a new asshole.  It was nice to see him give a shit.”

“You think he’s always given a shit?”

“He has all these pictures on his computer.  Like a slideshow as the screensaver.  All pictures of us—of my mom and Michael and Caroline and me.  I dunno how long they’ve even been there.  I think I was wrong about a lot of things.”  

“Well he was still absent.  He wasn’t a great communicator about anything.”  

Again, I loved two things about her response: She wanted me to remember I wasn’t the only one to blame, and she didn’t want me to forget that he still had faults.  “Yeah.  Honestly, it’d be nice not to fight with him all the time, but as long as he’s a decent father for Caroline, I don’t really care about myself.”  

“That’s bullshit.”  

I smiled.  “Well.”  

“You’ll live with him being a good father for Caroline if that’s all he’s capable of.  You’d be really happy if was a good father to you, too.”  

I sighed again, but it was a much happier, satisfied one.  No one knew me better than she did.  “How’d you come up with a beer float?”

“I was looking up drinks online.  New ideas for the club and shit, stumbled upon it.  I thought it was genius.”  

“It is.  It’s really good.”  

“So we’re having dinner with your dad tomorrow?”  

“Yeah, as long as you’re ok with that.  You don’t have to work, right?”

“Nope, I’m off tomorrow.”  

“Are you ok with that?”

“Yeah, I’d like to meet your dad, I think.”

“We’ll see what you have to say after you meet him.” 

“What if I really like him?”

“Well then I’ll obviously break up with you immediately.” 

She laughed.  “I thought you weren’t going to give him that much power anymore.” 

“I’m not.  But you’re still not allowed to like him.”

“I see.”

“He can be very charming.” 

“Well the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.  I like him already.” 

“Just so you don’t like him more than me.” 

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about there.  He’s a little old for me.”

“Well he’s got a lot of money.  That could be very attractive.” 

“Well you’re his kid, so…you’ll inherit it anyway.”

I laughed loudly.  “Is that the plan?” 

“I figured I might as well come clean.  I can only lie for so long.” 

“He’s not all charming,” I added.  “He can be a real prick.” 

“Well the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” she was smiling as she said it to me.  Pretty sure she was baiting me. 

Eh, I’d let her have that one.  “Your beer float made me sleepy.  Bet that was your plan all along.  Placate any apparent anger out of me until I just want to nap after all that beer and ice cream.  You’re good.” 

“You’re so perceptive.  It’s one of your finer qualities.  Did you get that from your dad, too?”

“Um, no.  Probably my mother.” 

“Well, see—then you got the best of both.” 

“I’m totally gonna nap now.  Are you gonna nap with me?”

“Where are you napping?”

“Duh, right here.  I’m not moving after all that foam.” 

She twisted her mouth deciding for all of a few seconds.  She shrugged.  “Ok.”  

I nodded and started to lie down, but stopped and nearly bumped heads with her.  “I’m not making out with you, either.  Just so we’re clear.  If not from the uncomfortable fullness of beer and ice cream, for that crack about me being a prick.  I won’t take that kind of abuse.”  Guess I couldn’t let her have it.  

“It’s ok.  I don’t want to make out with you anyway.”  

I started again, but stopped abruptly, looking back at her.  “Oh really?”

“Nope.  Too busy thinking about all of my opportunities now.  You, your dad...”

“Oh my God, stop.  I might puke.”  

“Well…I’d draw the line at puke with anyone else, but I might make an exception for you.  I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.  I can play both sides of the field.  Keep my options open.  Watch for any other charming pricks out there.”  

I groaned already, my stomach not very happy with the diet of beer and ice cream for breakfast and the groan only got worse when she wormed herself on top of me a tad bit rougher than was necessary.  “That’s really gross.  I mean, my father aside, positive puke in a relationship makes you weirder than me for once.  I dunno why I keep you,” I said through a deep breath out, more comfortable now that I was lying down and she was putting just the right amount of pressure on my stomach.  I locked my hands over the small of her back and let out a sigh as one of her hands tangled in my hair, the other resting on my shoulder.  

I dunno why I started talking.  Maybe it was just tired blathering.  Or that she made me feel content even if I was nervous.  Maybe that was half of my stomach issue.  Maybe I was nervous unconsciously.  “Janine—she’s my dad’s…well she’s sort of more than a secretary.  She’s sort of, like, his office manager and keeps his appointments and all that crap.  I dunno, she’s more of an assistant the amount of shit she does for him.  Anyway, I’ve always liked her.  When I was walking out I told her that if he blows this one, I’m done.”

“Did you mean it?”  I loved that she didn’t move at all to talk to me—just stayed right where she was.  I realized we were talking really quietly, near whisper volume.  

“I think so, yeah.”  I paused.  “I hope she told him.”

“If she’s that close to him, I’m sure she did.”

“Yeah.”

“Stop thinking about it now and just go to sleep.  I really don’t think he’ll fuck it up, Tyler.”  

I squeezed her tightly, turning my head to press a kiss to the top of her hair.  “I love you.”

She yawned.  “Love you, too.”  

~ooOoo~

I woke up to the sound of my name.  “Yeah?”

Allison was standing over me, which was already a bad way to wake up.  How she got off of me without me waking up was a mystery.  

“I answered your phone.  It’s that Janine lady you were telling me about.  She wants to know where we want to go for dinner.  Does your dad always have people call for him?”

“Yes.”

She held out the phone to me. “You’re right.  She sounds really nice.”

“I like her.”  I grabbed the phone.  “Can I call you back?”

“Bring her by the office sometime.  I’d like to meet her.”

“Yeah, we’ll tackle dinner first, ok?”

“If she’s half as great as she sounds, I’m impressed.”

“Thanks.”

“That she puts up with you.”

I laughed.  “Me, too.  I’ll call you back in a little while.”  I dropped the phone to my chest and went back to dozing until the couch depressed next to me.  I opened one eye.  “Why are you not napping with me anymore?”

“You snore.”

“I do not snore.”

She leaned over, half resting against me.  “You do sometimes.  After you drink beer floats.”

“Liar.”

“I had to pee.  And your phone was being annoying.  You slept through it.”

“I had a stressful morning.”  

“So where are we going for dinner?”

“Where would you like to go for dinner?”  I paused for a second and then realized something.  “He’s actually really trying.”  

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he usually just announces to me where we’re going and asks how many are coming.  He’s never really cared to know who’s coming along, either.”  

“So you never get a choice for dinner places?”

“Not really, no.  He just books reservations somewhere expensive and impressive.”

“So where are we going?”

“McDonald’s.”

She smiled.  “Their dollar menu is very economical.”  

“Hey, he might spring for a combo meal.  We can go all out.  What kind of food do you want?”

“I don’t really care.  What do you think?”

“No, I want you to pick.  Something you’re comfortable with.  This is why he’s asking.  He’s telling me that we can pick wherever we want to be comfortable instead of someplace I have to wear a fucking tie.”

“But you look good in ties.”  

“Then I’ll wear one for you, but that’s not really the point.”  

“You’re going to wear a tie for me?”  Her expression was ridiculously cute and excited.  

“Yes, I’ll wear a tie for you.  Even though it won’t necessarily be required.”  

“I dunno where to go.  You guys are better with that stuff.  I don’t know anywhere really.”  

“Type of food.  We’ll figure out where after we decide what kind.  If we were going out for dinner tonight alone, what would you want?”

“Sushi.”  

I can’t say I was surprised.  I let out a noise somewhere between laugh and sigh and breath because…just because.  “Sushi it is.”

“But you don’t like sushi.  Does your dad like sushi?”

“I dunno, really, but it doesn’t matter.  That’s what you want.  I’m sure they have other things.”  

“So where do we go for sushi?  I doubt your dad wants to eat at the dive we usually order from.”

I grabbed my phone and called Janine back.  

“Yes, Mr. Hawkins?”

“Oh, Jesus, please don’t ever call me that again.”

She chuckled on the other end of the phone.  “Has kind of a nice ring to it.”

“Sushi is our choice.”

“Sushi?”

“Yep.  Know any good places?”

I could hear her shuffling the phone and typing on the keyboard.  “Morimoto’s comes up on the top of the list for sushi restaurants in New York.  It’s in the Meatpacking district.  How would that sound?”

“Sounds good.”  

“Should he pick you up on the way?”

“Nah, we’ll meet him there.  How about eight?”

“I cleared his schedule, eight works.”  

“Great.”  

“Have a nice dinner, Tyler.”  

“Thanks, Janine.”  She was looking at me expectantly when I hung up.  “We’re going to Morimoto’s.”  

“Where is that?”

I grinned.  “The Meatpacking district.”  

She laughed.  “Is your dad, like, going to be all right in that part of town?”

“He’s actually from Brooklyn.  I think he’ll be fine.”  

“Your dad’s from Brooklyn?”

“Yeah.”  

“Huh.”

“He still gets his coffee from the same place he did when he lived there.”  

“What kind of place is this that we’re going?”

“I have no idea.  But apparently I’m wearing a tie.”

“What am I wearing?”

“Clothes.  Later we won’t need clothes, but for dinner they’re necessary.”  

“Dick.”

“You can wear whatever you want.”  

“Well, like, do I need to dress up?  If you’re wearing a tie and shit, I should probably be dressed nicely.”  

“Skirts or dresses are easily accessible when you haul me into bathroom stalls.  Just sayin.”

She covered my face with her hand and pushed off of the couch.  “I should wear pants just on principle alone now.”  

~ooOoo~

APOV

We were fifteen minutes early.  And Tyler was so fucking nervous—a level of nervous that I’d never seen from him.  He was fidgety and his leg was shaking.  I mean, I knew why.  He wasn’t ever nervous for things with Caroline because they came easier to him; they already had a good relationship.  And he wasn’t nervous to see his mom because they were close enough not to have there be any question or tension.  Tyler’s dad actually being there was a big enough ‘if’ to him that he was really, seriously nervous about this.  Most people probably would have been more nervous about dad meeting his girlfriend, but I really don’t think that was any part of this.  I was comfortable, too.  We were already a set.  Charles was the wildcard here.  

“Hey.”

“What?”  He said it almost distracted, like he was looking for his dad being late already, or preparing himself if something went wrong.  He looked young, like a little boy; his whole demeanor was just screaming that despite the fact that he was standing here with me in a tie, holding my hand, and looked nothing like a child.  

I touched his face with my other hand, and he focused on me.  “Chill.  It’s just your dad.”

“What if he doesn’t show?”

“I think he’ll show.”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll go home and order pizza, and I’ll make you forget.  Either way, we’re going to have a good night, ok?”

He let out a huge breath that sounded more like a sigh that he’d been holding, and pulled me into a hug.  

“It’ll be ok, either way,” I whispered into his ear.  

“Shouldn’t I be the one telling you that?  I’m sorry.”  

“I’m strangely not nervous to meet your dad.  I don’t really know why.”  

He pulled back and kissed me quickly.  “I love you.”  

“I love you.”

Charles arrived a few minutes later, and the relief that just oozed out of Tyler was almost a completely physical thing.  His face softened and brightened and even his posture changed.  I was really grateful that he showed—if for nothing else, for Tyler’s sake.  

“Dad, this is Allison.  Allison, this is my father, Charles Hawkins.”  

“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking his hand.  

“And you as well.  I hope you weren’t waiting long.”  

I squeezed Tyler’s hand.  “Not at all.  We just got here.”  

Charles gestured to the door.  “Shall we?”

The restaurant was completely spectacular.  The front of the place was in a huge arc with these bright red curtains dangling, and when walking inside, one of the first things you saw was a huge wall made of glass bottles.  The lighting was warm but still kinda edgy and cool.  It seemed like a trendy place.  

Tyler was right, too—Charles was very charming.  

“Have you been here before?” I finally asked, as he seemed to be shaking everyone’s hand as though he knew them.  

“I haven’t actually.  I’m interested to see how the food is.  I have a lot of clients that enjoy sushi, so if this places lives up to its reputation, I think I’ll be visiting much more often.”  

“I didn’t realize it was this close to the Pier.  Tyler and I had one of our first dates there.”  

“Oh?  What did you do?”

“We went ice skating.  I’d never been before.”  

“To Chelsea Pier or you never ice skated?”

“Neither.”

“Are you from this area?”

“Florida originally.”  

“Not much ice skating in Florida?”

“I wasn’t there long enough to really find that out.”  

“Did you move around a lot?”

“My mom died when I was four, so I spent a lot of time bouncing around foster homes.”  

“I’m sorry to hear that.  I imagine that must have been a rough start.”  

You have no idea.  I nodded, smiling.  “You could say that.”  

It was decided we were having drinks first.  I’m pretty sure that might have been Tyler’s suggestion.  He ordered whiskey-neat, which I couldn’t say I’d seen him drink before, but then we didn’t really go to bars much, or he mostly stuck to beer.  I thought it was amusing when his father ordered the same thing.  

“What do you want?” Tyler asked me.  

I suppose Diet Coke was not technically in the categories of ‘drinks.’  So I scanned the menu.  Honestly, the name was horrible, but it sounded interesting.  “I’ll have a ginger daisy.”  

Tyler smirked, but he ordered it for me.  

It was very poorly named.  “This is not at all a ‘daisy’ drink.  That makes it sound like it’s some lightweight, froofy sh—crap.  Anything with tequila in it shouldn’t be a daisy.”  

Seeing them together, I thought Tyler looked more like his mom than he did his dad, but there were things that were recognizable.  They didn’t really carry themselves the same way; Charles had an air about him—the businessman, the professional.  It was a confidence level that even outdid Tyler’s.  Tyler’s confidence level was never that overstated.  And Tyler still had insecurities.  I’m sure Charles did, too, but he certainly didn’t carry himself that way.  Or maybe because Tyler had been so nervous, the differences in them were more noticeable.  Or maybe because Tyler was his kid, he felt more insecure.  It was kind of amusing how much it was obvious that they both wanted this to work, though.  

“So what looks good, Allison?” Charles asked me.  

There wasn’t anything remotely reasonable price-wise on this menu.  Ramen soup was $15.  Fifteen dollars for a fucking packet of ramen!  Logically I knew this was not the same thing you bought in a packet in the store, but still.  Gourmet ramen?!  Half of this shit, I’d never even heard of.  “Um.”

“Are you a sliced or rolled sushi connoisseur?”

“Definitely rolled.”

“And what kind do you normally get?”

Well, Charles, at the dive we usually order from, they have exactly five different options...  “Usually salmon, tuna, California rolls, sometimes shrimp or yellowtail.”  

He nodded.  “Then I think it’s obvious we need to order the Omakase tasting dinner so that you can experience all that this restaurant has to offer.”

In this respect, he was exactly like his son, or his son was exactly like him.  He looked at me all expectantly and like if I said yes, it’d make him really happy.  

“Um, ok?”  I didn’t really mean it to come out in a question, but I mean it was $125 fucking dollars a person.  Charles also took the liberty of ordering a bottle of wine that was way over a hundred bucks.  This place was insane.  

“Tyler?”

“Hell, no.  I’m having a steak.  You and my dad can eat all the seaweed and shit that you want.  I’ll stick with the red meat.”  

“So, you like sushi, but obviously Tyler is not as much of a fan.”  

I smiled at Tyler, who looked almost adorably bashful.  “It’s definitely one of my favorites.  Tyler’s very nice about it, though.”  

“I eat a lot of tempura.  Or there’s leftover pizza.”  

~ooOoo~

Toro Tartare in a Bamboo Box with Caviar and 6 Condiments, finished with a Japanese Berry

“Did you take Caroline to school today?”

Charles’ eyes flicked to me and back to Tyler.  “Yeah, I did.”  

“How’d that go?”

He smiled sadly.  “Still wouldn’t talk to me.  She’s incredibly stubborn.”  

“Must get it from mom,” Tyler said with a small smile.  

Charles looked at me.  “Caroline is Tyler’s younger sister.”  

“She’s met Caroline a bunch of times,” Tyler said softly.  I was impressed with how non-confrontational and non-resentful he sounded.  Just fact.  

“Oh.”  

“You have ideas?”

“For?”

“Engaging conversation.”  

“No, not in particular.”

“Stick with art.  She’ll probably respond better.”  

It was really awesome of Tyler to even offer that, much less in the almost encouraging way he said it.  I covered his shoe with mine and smiled at him when he looked over at me.  

Hamachi Carpaccio

“You could try taking her to the Met,” I suggested.  

Charles looked at me, surprised.  

I shrugged.  “She really seemed to love it there.  Tyler and I took her once.  Art is totally her outlet for everything.”  

The surprise really didn’t stop.  I probably spent more time in the last six months with his daughter than he had.  And I think he realized that suddenly.  

“It’s good she has that.  Especially when other little girls are bitches.”  

Charles laughed, but it went away quickly.  “So you know about that?”

I nodded.  “She’ll be ok.  She’s strong.  And she’ll use the art to work through the anger.  Not everyone has that.  I certainly didn’t.”  

“Why were you angry?”

I debated for a minute how much to really tell him.  “Fosters homes, no parents, no family.  I think I spent my entire childhood angry.  I was angry up until a few years ago.  Not because I felt sorry for myself, really.  I made a lot of bad choices—ones that were hard to get out of then.  And it made me incredibly angry.”  

“How did you stop being angry?”  

“You just have to let it go eventually.  Accept what was.  Move on.  And moving here was the biggest step.  Just getting away from everything where I was.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.”  

“I am, too.”  

Sashimi: A rainbow array of salmon, tuna, eel, hamachi, and seared toro garnished with sun-dried tomato and caviar and five sauce pipettes

“You’re really not going to try this?” I asked Tyler, holding out my fork.  

“I’m really not, no.  Enjoy.”  He said this will putting the largest bit of steak in his mouth that was possible.  

“You might like it.”

“I can tell you with 99% certainty, I will not.”  

“So goddamned stubborn.”  

I flicked my eyes to Charles, who seemed to be enjoying me giving Tyler a hard time.  Tyler was smiling, so it wasn’t like he was offended.  

“He’s always been stubborn,” Charles offered.

“Excuse me?” Tyler asked.  “Pot have you met kettle?”

Charles ignored him.  “I took the boys to see a movie one time and he didn’t want to see it, so he locked himself in the bathroom and refused to come out.”

“It was a baby movie,” Tyler provided, looking down at his steak.  

“It was not a baby movie.  It was a kid’s movie.  It was Muppet Treasure Island.  You were a kid.  Michael agreed to it.”  

“I was almost seven!”  

“It was like a formal protest.  Like a lock-out.  Michael was almost thirteen and he went along with it.”  

“It was a baby movie.”  Tyler was actually really adorable with his insistence and the fact that he looked about seven when he kept insisting.

“Michael finally talked him out.  He only missed about 20 minutes of the movie.”

“So maybe I didn’t really understand the whole bonding thing.”  

“He bonded over extra candy.”

Tyler was looking at his dad, and I think his realization was actually really new—that he might not have figured out that his dad had actually been trying to bond with the boys—and that the movie itself didn’t really matter.  

“Well I’m just as stubborn, so we make an awesome pair.”  

Sushi Selection: seared tuna, yellowtail, salmon, snapper, mackerel

“You know you almost met once before,” Tyler said suddenly.  

“We did?” I asked, my face asking What the fuck are you talking about?!

Tyler nodded.  “Yeah, the night we met.  Or the morning after it really.”  

I was going to stomp on his foot.  Hard.

“What do you mean?” Charles asked.

“Remember when your lawyer came to bail me out of jail?”

“Yes.”

“We got arrested that night.”

“What?”

“We got arrested?” I asked.

“Well…technically I got arrested and she got arrested after the cop that was taking me in was abusive and used unnecessary force.”  

Charles barked out a laugh.  “You got arrested on the night you met?”

“He got me arrested.”

“She got herself arrested jumping on a cop.”  

I shot him a look.  

“We don’t get arrested anymore,” he said quickly.  

“We certainly don’t.”

Seared Wagyu Beef with Sweet Potatoes Coupled with Lobster in a half-shell and spicy Indian curry

“So were you in New York long before my son got you arrested?  Did you move to New York after Florida?”

“She got herself arrested!” Tyler said, but we were sort of ignoring him.  

“No, I was all over.  Atlanta, New Orleans, Texas for a little while, Vegas…New Orleans for the longest.  I’ve been in New York for almost three years.  Two of those without arrest.”

“I’ve been to New Orleans on business.  It’s a beautiful city.  Great people.  The culture there is amazing.”  

“I wasn’t there pre-Katrina; I got there a couple years after, so the recovery was still going on.  The city was one of my favorites—really cool people.”  

“What was your favorite part of the city?”  

“I really miss the food.  No one makes a beignet the same.  No seafood here tastes as fresh, no matter where it comes from.  And there were so many different types of food there.  I didn’t ride them really, but the streetcars were cool, but I loved that you could ride the ferries for free.  Sometimes if I just wanted to get away I’d go and sit by the river or take the ferry all day long—just ride it all day back and forth.  It was a great place to just forget about everything.  The rides were really calming.”  

“I loved the cemeteries there.  They were so much more ornate than anything else I’d seen.  I never had a lot of time in the city to do any sightseeing because I was usually there on business, but the river is by far the best feature of the city.  Did you visit the beach in Florida a lot, too?”

“Not really.  I mean, I liked the beach, but no place I stayed really took us to the beach.”  

“New York doesn’t have the same kind of beaches, but it’s the same ocean at least.  Manhattan Beach is actually quite nice, and it’s quiet.  Or The Hamptons has excellent beaches.”

Tyler was rolling his eyes while shaking his head.  “Yeah, Dad, The Hamptons are such a low-key place to vacation.”

Charles turned to him.  “You should take her next year when the beaches are open again.”  

Braised Octopus in chili oil

“What are you eating now?” Tyler asked, his face rather disgusted and looking very much like he was going to toss his cookies at any moment.  

“Braised octopus,” Charles offered.  

“It’s good,” I told him, nodding, and offering him a bite, “You should try some.”  

He physically jerked away from the fork.  “I’m good, thanks.”  

Charles laughed.

“Just as long as you never make me octopus—any kind.  I don’t even know what braised means.”

“I promise I’ll never make you octopus.”

“Do you like to cook?” Charles asked.

“I guess I do, yeah.  Tyler’s really easy to please.”

“What do you like to cook?”

“I don’t have a favorite really.  I like making stuff that he likes, so I guess I just like it when people like what I make.”  

“She made casserole at Mom’s the other day.”

“You did?”

I nodded.  “Everyone seemed to like it.”  I glanced at Tyler for a second before turning back to his father.  “Maybe we could have you over for dinner some time.”  

“That would be lovely.  I’d like that.”  

Tyler smiled at me, and it was a genuine smile, so I knew he was ok with it.  

Apple bread pudding: green tea crumble, brown butter ice cream And Warm chocolate cake with blood orange-sake sherbet and truffle honey

“You guys have got to go to the bathroom before we leave.  The bathroom is insane.  It’s floor to ceiling stalls and mirrors in the back that have cherry blossoms and shit and the toilet—it flushes itself, it deodorizes, the lid automatically goes up and down, and it massages.  It has a remote control!  You could spend, like, an hour in there just trying out all the buttons!”  

Tyler didn’t miss a beat.  “Exactly what does it massage?”

I managed something between a giggle and a muffled snort, trying not to lose it in front of his father.  “It’s, like, a cleanser—thing.”  

“A massaging cleanser?”

“Shut up!  It had different pressures and everything—front and back!  Everyone in the stalls was giggling.  I’ve never seen anything like it.”  

He was smirking so hard, I was kind of surprised when Charles announced he was going to check it out.  

The second he left the table, Tyler grabbed my hand.   “Admit it—when you were in the bathroom, you spent more time trying out the front cleanser than actually peeing.”  

“Admit it—when I told you about the bathroom, you were totally thinking about fucking me in it.”   

“Pffft, well of course.”

“See!  It’s not just me.  We have a bathroom fetish!”

“Well I didn’t until you decided to get off with the front cleanser.”  

I pulled on his hand and he moved easily, leaning over to kiss me.  And, I mean, we didn’t make out in the restaurant while his dad was gone from the table or anything, but he might have moved his chair over and my hand might have been a little higher on his thigh than was decent.  

“Well kids, I have an early meeting tomorrow, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to end our evening.”  

I loved that we really didn’t move away from each other.  We were nice enough not to ignore his father and keep kissing, but we both just kind of stood up then and all walked out together.  And I realized as we were leaving that Charles must have taken care of the bill when he went to check out the bathroom.  Sneaky.  Charming.  Totally something Tyler would have done.  

“Thanks for dinner, Dad.”  

“Yeah, thank you.  It was amazing—the food was…” I broke off, not even being able to put it into words.  “It was so great.”

“I’m glad you liked it.  We should do this again.”  He stopped quickly and added.  “I mean, I’d enjoy that, if you’d like to join me again.”  

Tyler nodded.  “Sure.”  

Charles looked ridiculously pleased.  I wondered if they both realized how much time and energy they could have saved if they would have just come to this understanding years ago.  A lot of wasted time—they were lucky that they got to resolve it.  

“It was really nice meeting you,” I told him as his car pulled around.  

“The pleasure was all mine.  I’ll call.  Have a good night.”  

“You, too.”  

We waved, and watched his car leave and we sort of just started walking down the block.  He grabbed my hand, and seemed kind of lost in thought, and I just left him be for a while.  Eventually he squeezed my hand and bumped his arm into mine.  

“I can’t believe you ate that one thing.  Well I can’t believe you ate most of it.”

“What one thing?”

“The thing that looked like fish cock cut down the middle with sauce over it.”

“The what?!  What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I don’t even know what it was.  It looked like fish penis.”

I started laughing loudly.  “I don’t think fish have large penises.”

“How would you know?  I bet whale cock is huge.”

“Whale cock?”

“Yeah.  I bet you were eating, like, swordfish cock.  Seriously, it had like a crown on the front and it was cut down the middle.  And it was like bleeding out.  It looked like tiny sliced rubber cock.  I felt sympathy pain.  My steak almost came back up.”

“You are so weird.”

“Seriously!  What was it called?  Swordfish cock in sauce?”

“I really wish you would have asked your dad that at the table.”

He smiled.  “I should have.”

“Hey, that was ok, right?  That I asked him to come over and have dinner?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.  As long as he shows up.”

I leaned into him.  “I’m sure he’ll show up.  He did tonight, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he did.”  

“I could have fucked that dessert.”

“Now that I wish you would have said at the table.”

I pulled on his hand.  “What?” he asked.  

“Do you realize where we are?”  

He looked around the street.  “Um… we’re in the middle of a New York sidewalk, late at night, all alone in the… Oh!  It’s the bar!”  

“Yeah!”

“I wasn’t really paying attention to where we were walking.  How cool is this?”  

It seemed oddly fitting that we’d wind up where started.  “I forgot how loud and…blue this place was.”  Which was really funny thing to say—basically screaming it to him over the volume of the music.  “We met right over there,” I yelled, pointing.  

“It hasn’t changed.”  

I shook my head.  “Everything has changed.”  

He smiled.  “That is has.”  Something sparked in his eyes.  “Can I get you a drink?”

“I’ll have a beer.”  

“Two beers.”  

I wasn’t sure there was anywhere quiet in this bar, but he found a table about the farthest away from the counter, and we could at least have a conversation.  I started out sitting across from him, but that lasted about two minutes, and then I plopped myself in his lap.  We watched the people for a while, and I think it was my turn to be just zone out thinking.  

“Penny for your thoughts.”  

I shrugged, sipping the beer.  “Your dad couldn’t tell.”

“Couldn’t tell what?”  

“About me.”  

“What are you talking about?”

“He doesn’t know I was a stripper or a hooker.  He couldn’t tell.”  

“No one can tell that.”

I shrugged.  “It’s just different.  I’m not used to that.”  

“I told you it wasn’t true—what you thought about giving off a vibe or whatever.”

“I know you told me.  That didn’t make it true for me.  I had to get there myself.”  

“I’m glad you arrived then.”  

“It’s nice.  People not knowing.”

“Yeah, you’re so boring and normal now.”  He was teasing me, but his smile was soft.  

I nodded.  “I like normal.”  

“I like normal, too.”  

“I thought you were refreshing,” he said after we both nursed our beers for a while.

“What?”  I asked, smiling at him in the way that I thought he was being a goofy dork.

“You were refreshing.  I didn’t have to work very hard usually.  In bars.”  

I chuckled.  “You totally thought you were gonna get laid.”

“Well, that’s kind of why you go out in the first place.”

“Uh huh.”

“I liked that it wasn’t easy.  You were different.”  

“So you liked that I made you work for it?  Didn’t fall right into your lap?”  This conversation was rather hilarious given that he was playing with the hem of my dress the entire time—or maybe not.  It wasn’t a sexual kind of touching really—it was more affectionate.  Or I suppose anything with us could have been both.  

He kissed my temple.  “I wanted to take you home with me; I’m not gonna lie.  You were sexy as hell and intriguing, and you were totally into me.”

I laughed loudly.  “I was, huh?”  

He nodded.  “Completely.  That’s why you let me buy you a drink and stormed out of the bar.”  

“Stormed is a little strong.  Left your charming ass there might be a better way of putting it.”  

“What about now?”

“What about now? I asked back.

“You already let me buy you a drink.  You wanna come home with me?”

I kissed him quickly.  “Yes.  Today I totally wanna go home with you.”  

One (Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty-One | Twenty-Two | Twenty-Three | Twenty-Four | Twenty-Five | Twenty-Six | Twenty-Seven | Twenty-Eight | Twenty-Nine |  Thirty  |  Thirty-One  |  Thirty-Two  |  Thirty-Three  |  Thirty-Four  |  Thirty-Five  |  Thirty-Six  |  Thirty-Seven  |  Thirty-Eight  |  Thirty-Nine  |  Forty  |  Forty-One  |  Forty-Two  |  Forty-Three  |  Forty-Four  |  Forty-Five  |  Forty-Six  | Forty-Seven  |  Forty-Eight  | Forty-Nine  |  Fifty  |