Cookie Cutter (24 page)

“Says who!” I say as I try to get up.

Her hands wrap around my ankles and she trips me. I fall again, face first into the grass but that doesn’t stop my feet from becoming soaked as Meg pulls my shoes off.

“You!” She flails. “And you might not have said it out loud, Iris, but you make sure we
all
know it without any words at all!”

“What the hell is going on?”

It’s Carter. He’s come to break up the catfight of which Meg and I are making ourselves the star felines.

“She’s . . . crazy!” I tell him breathlessly, trying to grab the hand he offers to help me up but Meg isn’t having any of that.  She grabs a hold of my arm and swings me around to face her.

“I’m the crazy one? Miss I-have-to-work-ten-hours-a-day-so-everyone-sees-me-come-home -last, then bake cookies
all night
so they see how dedicated I am – and never ever
let my daughter go out and have some fun because God forbid, she might realize what a bore I am and never come back!”

Her words dig and scratch worse than any physical harm she could do to me. Had this been any other time before, I might run and hide and cry in my bathroom for the remainder of the evening, but she’s not dealing with the old Iris, she’s dealing with me.

My hand inadvertently balls into a fist while she tries to regain her balance and find her stupid jacket, and my arm pulls backwards.

“Iris,” Carter warns me as I throw the force of my entire body at Meg and deck her right in the mouth.

“Go Iris!” Alex yells from somewhere behind me and just as I feel as if I want to do a victory dance. I slip and fall right in to that three to five inch mud puddle I was trying to avoid a few minutes ago. Not only that but I pull Carter down with me when I try to grab a hold of him for balance.

“Shit.” Meg spits blood into a pool of grassy water and feels her lip.

“Don’t ever come to my house again,” I say, trying to get myself up again.

“No worries, Iris. I wouldn’t come back if you paid me to be your friend.”

I push myself up and wave Carter off when he attempts to hold on to me. He doesn’t have to worry about me retaliating anymore. I’m calm now. I push my hair out of my face and look down at Meg. Tears are threatening to pour through.

“That’s perfect, Meggan. Perfect,” I say as she sits there, trying to catch her breath. “You’re
angry with me? Really?”

She looks up at me.

“What did I ever do to you?” I pick up my shoes and make my way back to the front door through a squishy lawn and soaking outfit. Carter follows, but not before he tries to hand Meg her jacket. She bats it away. I’m almost inside when I hear her voice again.

“Iris!”

I don’t want to hear what she has to say about me anymore but for some reason, I turn to her anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes.

And now, I can’t keep the tears from falling anymore. I’m done.

“I don’t care.”

At that, I close the door in more ways than one. I stand there staring at it, waiting for answers that will probably never come.

“Let’s get you outta those clothes.” Carter’s smooth voice soothes some of the pain. He guides me but stops after only a few steps.

“I don’t know where your bedroom is, Iris.”

I snap out of my bout with self-pity and lead the way. Carter disappears into the master bathroom for a few minutes while I sit on the edge of my bed. I mourn the loss of a friend I previously considered important in my life but when Carter returns, he takes it wrong.

“I um, guess you’re still pretty angry he slept with her, huh?”

I look up at him standing there trying to be supportive. I try to smile but I’m sure it’s not coming off like I plan. “Would it make sense if I told you I’m more angry that
she
slept with
him
?”

He breathes out heavy and scratches at the back of his neck and nods. “Yeah. Actually it would.”

I stand and he helps me out of my top and when I lean into him, he holds me for as long as I need him to. Then he kisses the top of my head and gives me one last squeeze before he starts to excuse himself.

I pull at his hand. “Where are you going?”

“Iris, I’m not at all knowledgeable on what’s happening here,” he says. “I don’t claim to be perfect and I’m a little turned on right now with you all . . .” He waves me up and down. “Looking vulnerable and beautiful despite those tears you shed, but I’m not about to take advantage of a woman who’s in the emotional state of mind that you’re in right now.”

I open my mouth to tell him he’s wrong, I’m emotionally unstable all the time, but he stops me.

“You get cleaned up and dry,” he laughs. “And get some rest. I’ll be back later to check on you.”

My mouth shuts and I nod. “Okay.”

“Maybe I’ll bring a movie over and try to get you to grow a liking for horror movies.”

“I think my life is enough of a horror movie for now, don’t you?”

He smiles again. “A comedy, then?”

“Sounds good.” It makes me smile. For real this time.

He lets himself out and the front door clicks shut. I step out of the rest of my clothes and into the steam filled bathroom. Before I get that shower though, I wipe the fog from my mirror and stare at the reflection of myself for a long while. Some of the things Meg said are right. Although my reasoning may not be what she insinuated, I’m overdoing it. Everything. I don’t know if I know how to stop, either – but I need to try.

For Ally.

My renewed sense of purpose gives me just the motivation I need to get up and get a shower. When I’m done and dressed in super comfortable yoga pants and a t-shirt, I make a few appetizer type goodies for when Carter gets here later.

Two hours in, I’m cleaning up after myself when the door opens.

“I’m home.” It’s Ally.

“I thought you’d be home later?” I call out to her.

“Practice ended early.” Short but not so sweetly.

“How’d you get . . . oh.”

James walks behind her. It takes everything I’ve got not throw a fit and toss him out of the house in front of his daughter.

“Dad was waiting for me at school after practice. He offered me a ride,” Ally says.

I can only imagine why he’d pull something like this after not having the time of day to spend with her for two years. “Oh.”

“He’s giving me driving lessons.”

I look over at him. He’s averting his eyes.

“Oh.”

“And might even be able to get me a good deal on one of his old rentals, if I play my cards right.”

I continue glaring at him until he finally meets my eyes.

“I see.”

“Hey, Ally bear,” James says with an uncomfortable tone lingering in his voice. “Why don’t you head on upstairs while I talk to your mom for a minute.”

“Okay.”

And to my surprise, she doesn’t bounce over to him and hug him tight around the neck like she used to in light of his newly found attentions.  She simply gathers her books that she sat down onto the counter, and heads upstairs, quietly.

Once she’s out of sight and her door shuts closed, he goes on the defensive. “You can’t tell me not to pick her up from school, Iris.”

“Where were you last Saturday? It was your weekend? Why didn’t you pick her up that Friday afternoon?”

“And you can’t tell me not to get her a car, either.”

“It’s raining out, don’t you think it’s a little dangerous to take your only daughter out driving when she’s never driven before, in the rain?”

“I’ll do what I want, I’m her father.”

“Ha! That’s a good one.”

“I’m sending her on that trip to France with her class at the end of the year too.”

“Oh really.”

He nods. “And then I guess we’ll see who she wants to be with.”

I stare at my ex long and hard. What did I see in him all those years ago? If it weren’t for Ally, I’d call the time I spent with him wasted but as it is, she’s the single most important thing that came out of being with him. I could fight him. Spend all my time competing for Ally’s affections and trust, but honestly, if I don’t have any of that by now, I never will. I throw up the white flag. Virtually speaking that is.

“Do whatever you want, James. I’m tired.”

I wipe down the counter, ignoring him altogether, now.

“Fine we’ll talk tomorrow.”

I stop and turn to him so as to make sure he understands what I’m about to say. “I don’t mean I’m tired tonight, I mean I’m tired of this.”

I wave a hand into the air at absolutely nothing. And everything. “Of fighting with you, of . . . of fighting with
Ally
. Of Trying to live up to some stupid expectation that either you, or me, or . . . whoever
put on me at some point.”

“Are you saying you won’t fight me on taking custody of Ally full time then?”

“I’m saying if that’s really what she wants, I won’t stop her, because I want what makes her happy.” I let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “But James, be honest with yourself if not with me or your daughter, you don’t want her full time. You haven’t even wanted her part
time for the past two years.”

He never did have a very good poker face but he thinks he does. “Maybe I’ve had a change of heart.”

“If you have, then, great. By all means, be a part of her life but don’t string her along just to get back at me.”

James holds my stare for a long while. He could be contemplating his next move or debating what, if anything, he can hold against me – or maybe he’s just tired, too. Either way.

“I think it’s time for you to go,” I say and although he looks like he might be ready for a repeat of our street fight the other night, I’m not. “Now.”

I pick up the phone and hold it, ready to dial nine-one-one this time if I have to. But I don’t.

“Fine.” He breathes out, and turns and strut his way out of my front door, if not my life.

After the door shuts, I throw the towel down and hang up the phone. I rest my elbows onto the counter and then my head into my hands. I stand there with my eyes closed, simply enjoying the little bit of peace and quiet I’m afforded when there’s a knock at the door again. I groan. Perhaps James left something behind, or maybe he changed his mind about that fight after all. I pull the door open, ready to threaten him with a restraining order.

“James, I---”

“Hi.”

I’m cut off with brown eyes that have become one of my favorite colors in all the world. Carter stands at my door with that Boy Scout smile of his. How I love his smile.

“Hi.” I return his greeting with a sigh of relief that he’s not
my ex.

“Still up for a movie and popcorn?”

He holds up a box of microwave popcorn and a plethora of DVDs to choose from. Just like that, the tension between my shoulder blades is gone. The headache I was beginning to get is not there anymore and my breathing becomes easier than it has in days.

How does he do that?

I squint my eyes to see what he’s brought me for movie titles and take the one in the middle. Then I laugh because Zombieland doesn’t exactly strike me as funny, or horror, based on the actors playing in it, but it’s perfectly Carter.

“Definitely.” I open the door wide to let him in.

Chapter 18. Carter

My neck is stiff.

“Holy.”

Come to think of it, my entire body aches like it’s been in the plank position for about four days straight. When I open my eyes and look around, I understand why. I’ve been asleep in the sitting position with Iris curled up into my side since about half way through our movie night. The house is dark. Only the glow from the television sheds light and based on the fact that Jesse Eisenberg is giving us the rules of Zombieland again, I’m guessing the movie started itself over after we dozed off. I force my joints to work and slip out from under Iris so I can stand up and stretch. I roll my neck to try and relieve the kink that’s formed. And when I think about waking her, I simply can’t. She’s too damn cute when she’s slobbering all over her pillow, like that.

Ally never did come downstairs after I got here. Not even to eat. Iris made a judgment call and left a plate of food out for her but it still sits where she left it, untouched. I don’t know much about the intricacies of how girls work but I know teenagers. Not much, granted, but enough. I feel for Iris. She’s got a long ways to go with this one, but if I know her at all, she’ll get through it. So will her daughter. With no help from the ex to boot. I lean down and curl her up into my arms then I take her down the short hallway to her room.

“Seems like I’m always putting you to bed, Iris.” I kick the door open and I do try to be quiet about it but Iris jerks awake enough to nuzzle her nose into my neck.

She breathes me in and hums. “You smell good.”

Her voice is tired and it’s seductive as hell. It makes me want to slide that shirt up and re-visit a certain ticklish spot she has. When she presses a gentle kiss against my skin, just below my ear, a shiver forms at the back of my neck and travels down my spine. It’s a good shiver.

“That’s no way to test my gentleman instincts, Iris.” I lower her onto the bed but she doesn’t let me go.  She moves her lips to mine and it’s a sleepy kiss but a needy one as well.

I groan and pull away from her, but only a tiny bit.

“I’m not falling for the old, I need to connect with someone routine, this time, Miss.” I try to say it like I mean it but I smile, despite my good intentions.

“I think you need to crawl into bed with me.”

“And I think you’re a little misguided.”

She smiles up at me with this sheepish grin and I pause to appreciate the naive thing she’s got going on. Then and I kiss her again, only this time, I allow myself to slip a hand under her shirt and slide it across her belly to feel the warmth and tenderness she has hiding underneath.  Her side twitches when I touch certain places. When I move them down, between her legs, they part slightly. The way her body reacts in anticipation for what comes next makes me want to rip her clothes off to see where else she’s ticklish. I’ll have to find out some other time, though.

I bring the make out session to an end with great effort. I kiss the top of her head then I drag my hand away from her warm body.

“Don’t go.” She takes a hold of my hand.

How I’d love to stay with her, in an actual bed, with her soft skin and curves that I want to mold into – with her sexy whimpers and telling kisses. I’d love to properly show her what she’s capable of feeling with someone who cares about her. But alas.

“You’ve had a long day,” I whisper. “And I don’t know how comfortable I am ravishing you while your sixteen year old is within ear shot.”

Iris’s mouth twists up into what I believe she means as a pout. “Yeah, you’re right.” Her next thought is interrupted by a yawn.

“But I promise.” I kiss her forehead, then look straight into her beautiful brown eyes. “This is to be continued.”

Iris’s eyes flutter closed and she lets out a contented sigh. “Mmmkay.” She smiles and just like that, she’s out again.

I’ve still got a grin plastered across my face as I stroll down the hallway to get my things and go when I stop abruptly. Ally and I are face to face, both frozen in our tracks. The plate of food Iris left her is in one hand and her mouth is full of food she seems to be too shocked to chew.

“It’s not what you think,” I say, like I’ve just been busted by my parents and not a sixteen year old moody teenaged girl belonging the neighbor I’ve been . . . getting to know a little better. To put it lightly.

Ally finally swallows down her food and gives me the death stare. “Sure it isn’t.”

She takes her plate and heads upstairs.

I’m not sure if I’ll make things better or worse by trying to convince her nothing happened between Iris and me tonight. So I leave it alone. For now, I grab my jacket and shove my feet into my shoes. I leave the movies. I can get them from Iris tomorrow.

“You might want to lock up behind me,” I whisper-yell up the stairs after Ally.

She doesn’t bother slowing down. “Whatever.”

I mutter a sarcastic, “Oooohkay,” under my breath then I leave and shut the door tight. I jiggle the handle to make sure the lock on the door knob at least works. It does.

As I half walk half jog back to my house, Alex pulls into her driveway so I slow my pace a little bit. “You’re home early.”

She pulls her bag out of the car. “Ha ha very funny.”

I’ve clearly run into yet another woman with an attitude tonight. “How’d your date go the other day?”

She slams the door. “It went.”

Another car races around the corner onto our street before I can ask her why all the sarcasm.  It screeches to a halt in front of Alex’s house.

“Really?” she mumbles to herself.

A disheveled looking man-boy climbs out of the driver’s side and tries to brush his hair with his hands.

“Everything okay?” I ask Alex out of the side of my mouth.

She grumbles. I look over to see if I can read her expression. “Alex?” I can’t. Read her that is. I’ve never seen this Alex before.  She’s . . . flustered.

“Ahn,” the guy calls out in a fit of exasperation as he rounds his car and hurries up to where we are with his hands in his hair, as though he’s making some lame attempt at combing it.

“Who is
Ahn
?” I’m confused.

Alex breathes in.

Her head falls back and she looks up at the sky as she lets it out.

“I---” He stops when he sees me and says, “Hi.”

“Hi.” I give him a short but polite wave.

“I’m Eli.” He extends a hand.

I take it. “Carter.”

“What are you doing?” Alex glares at him like he’s lost his mind.  He nods to me then moves his attention back to Alex.

“Ahn,” he says more in control this time. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make a scene, I just . . . I saw you and . . . that guy, and his hands were . . . and . . .”

“Who is
Ahn
?”

This time, Alex gives me a short, “Me,” in response.

“I thought your name was Alex?” I say, to which man-boy Eli turns slightly and says me over his shoulder, “It is.”

“Then who is---”

Alex leans to one side so she can see me around the side of her, uh, friend? And informs me, “My name is Anya. Anya Alexandra Allen.” And when she notices my silent reaction to the entirety of her name she says, “My mother liked alliteration.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“A lot.” She straightens again, turning her attention back to Eli.

He’s in between . . .
Alex. Anya?
 Alex and I, his hands in his hair again only now it looks more like a nervous tick of some sort rather than an attempt to look in control. She stares at him with something like a cross between anger . . . and worry. When her eyes catch mine, behind him, I take the opportunity to mouth to her,
Is this the date?

She shakes her head ever so slightly.

Oh. Boy.

This is not my thing, dealing with a love triangle. Or, whatever it is.

“I think I’m just gonna leave you two, to it.”

But I have to make sure one last time, “An . . . ya, you’re good here, right?”

She eyes the guy Eli and lets me know that, “Yeah. He might be a royal fucking pain in my ass right now, but he couldn’t take me in a real match if he wanted to.”

I feel good about her response, annoyed as it may be. She seems like she knows this guy well enough to know he’s at least not a psychopath. So I back away, then head for my house. Inside, I appreciate the work I’ve put into this house for a few minutes. It’s good. It’s really good. Then a small pang of something else hits me. Regret. Because even though I’m stoked this project is nearly done, I just got here and met a pretty great woman. I’ve also just figured out that I’d like to get to know her a whole lot more.

Not that I couldn’t stay. I pick up some tools that are still laying around from earlier today. That’s of course assuming Iris wants me to. I toss some things into a box by the door and begin to move through the rest of the house. I think she’d want me to, but . . . As I walk down the hallway toward the bedrooms, I stub a toe on the hammer I borrowed from her when I first arrived in Spangler. She’s got a lot on her plate right now. The tool belongs to James and I stare at it for a minute or two.

Dick.

Then I toss it into the trash can by the bathroom door. I’ll get her another one.

Back in the kitchen, I start to put hardware onto the cabinets and drawers that are still missing theirs. I grin and think about how much Iris liked the things I went with in here. In mid-thought, my cell phone buzzes. Maybe it’s her. Maybe she’s not so sleepy after all. But it’s not Iris. It’s Tony.

You mad at me?

I rub at my eyes. Truth is, maybe I am. That dig he threw at me about Cheryl the other day stung and he knew it would. But quite honestly, I think I’ve been involved in a few too many family fights lately so I cut him a break.

Never,
I type back.

Then my cell rings.

“Hey,” I answer.

“Sorry I’ve been a shit lately. It’s just . . .” Tony trails off and I gotta say, “I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Sure, it’s stressful being Dad’s number one guy.”

He laughs. “Well, I suppose I have you to thank for it.”

“Glad to help, buddy.”

“Carter.”

“Yeah?”

“When are you coming home?”

“I told you, I don’t---”

“It wouldn’t kill you to come stay with us for a few weeks. You’ve got the time on your hands.”

He’s right. And it’s only a matter of time before I run out of excuses.

“I’m actually supposed to meet up with Frank after this job. Maybe I can drop by for dinner or something while I’m out in San Francisco, but Tony, I’m not coming home.”

He stifles a sarcastic laugh. “Well, sorry I bothered you.”

“Tone . . .”

He hangs up and along with the excuses, it won’t be long before my brother stops calling, too. I finish up the hardware. Then where will I be? I’m already fatherless, do I really want to be brotherless too?

I fall down into the futon and force my mind to other things. Specifically, the things that Iris Alden can do to me in a single look. I can worry about Tony later.

* * *

“So where are you taking me for our dinner date?” Iris asks as she dips a pretzel into some dip.

As a bonus, probably more for himself than anyone, her boss let her off of work early to get a jump on the weekend. Iris has a lot of shit to do; she could be getting ready for bridge later, or the park clean-up she volunteered for this weekend.
Sunday of course
. But instead, after she spoke with Ally and made sure she didn’t need a ride home from dance, she’s chosen to spend some time with me.

Right now, she’s sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen, watching me paint.  Her legs are crossed and although she left her jacket at home, she’s still wearing the plain, deep purple skirt she wore to work today. It’s riding up and showing enough of her thigh to make me want to slip a hand underneath and slide it the rest of the way. I try to focus. I don’t want to come off as that guy that wants to do nothing but violate my girlfriend in all the best ways, all the time.

Even though I do.

“You could
pick up a paint brush if you wanted to you know?”

She swallows her pretzel. “You’re avoiding my question.”

I dip my roller and glide it up the wall. “You’re nosey.”

“It’s my date.”

“It’s our
date – and it’s a surprise.”

She gets up and walks over to me. She bends down and picks up a brush, dips it into the tan paint then holds it up like a weapon.

“Brown, Carter? Really? I pegged you for a white walls kind of guy.”

“Iris.” I eye her, harshly. Kind of.

“Don’t you think I need a little advance notice of where we’re going, Carter? So I can plan my wardrobe?”

I go back to rolling and pretend I’m unconcerned that she might flick that paint brush at me any moment.