The Art of My Life (17 page)

Fish exited the kitchen following the
Koomer tradition of the males cleaning up and doing the dishes on
holidays. Hopefully, Jackson, Leaf, and Jesse didn’t miss the
rat-tailed war he and Cal usually instigated. He didn’t know if
their holiday cease-fire would hold up under battle
conditions.

He wiped his pruned hands on his
jeans.

Evie waltzed up to him and bopped him
with her hip. Earlier in the day, he’d thought Evie flirted with
him to get him to replace the rigging on her boat. But she amped it
up whenever Cal stepped into the vicinity. Ten to one she’d wasted
her efforts on a misguided ploy to make Cal jealous.

Evie’s antics might have scored him
some points with Missy. But if Missy was jealous, her usually open,
expressive face didn’t show it.

Evie positioned her hood ornaments in
his personal space. “Hey, Fish, wanna be my partner in
Euchre?”

He crossed to the couch where Missy
planted kisses all over her three-year-old nephew’s face. He
wouldn’t mind getting in on that. “Maybe later,” he said to Evie.
“Missy was going to show me something in the garage.”

Missy’s brows arched.

Pint-sized Chase took off after his
big sister.

Fish grabbed hold of Missy’s hand and
hauled her off the couch. “Come on.”

Cal’s eyes narrowed as he led Missy
past the dining room table where Cal shuffled cards. Got it. Fish
shoved away the ache that he never got to play protector for his
sisters—and the one that Cal didn’t trust him with
Missy.

He pulled Missy through the back door
and shut it behind them.

“
What’s this about?” Missy
tugged her hand out of his and hung back as though he might spring
a rubber snake on her like he had when they were kids.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Thought it
would be nice to have a conversation without a room full of people
hanging around.” But now he had nothing to say. He could ask her
about college or running, but he could have brought those topics up
in the house. What he really wanted to know was if she was seeing
someone. But if he asked, he’d be telling more than he was ready to
reveal.

They wandered across the driveway and
slowed to a stop at the corner of the garage. Awkwardness crackled
in the cool air between them. A heavy, dishwater sky pressed down
on them.

The memory Missy had awakened replayed
in the silence like it had a dozen times since he’d sat in the
truck and watched her walk through the library door. He cleared his
throat. “Let’s see. You stood here.” He moved her a few inches
closer to the garage. “My hand was here.” He placed his hand on the
garage siding above Missy’s head. “I leaned in to about here.” He
stopped a foot from Missy. “See, I remember.”

Comprehension dawned on Missy’s
face.

He drifted closer. “Go ahead, ask me.
I want a do-over.”

Missy glanced at his lips and backed
up a step. “This is sweet of you, but totally unnecessary. I’m over
you. Chill.” She folded her arms.

He bent closer, a whisper from her
lips. “But I want to kiss you.”

“
I raised the stakes. I
want more than kisses. I want it all.”

He straightened. “You
what?”

“
I want sex, babies, and
marriage, not in that order. I’ve had plenty of kisses.”

No wonder. Little Missy had grown up
gorgeous.

“
Enough to know I want the
whole enchilada. I hope the next guy I kiss, I’m going to marry
and—”

She batted away the finger he trailed
south of her collarbone.

“
Hey, I was just
volunteering.”

“
Very funny. I’m not
laughing.”

He dug his hands into the pockets of
his jeans. “Trying to be helpful. You know a lot of people forego
the marriage—”

“
I’m not a lot of people.
And I’m following the rules if it kills me.”

Fish chuckled at her pained
expression. “Death by virginity.”

“
I’ve got a man-file. I
print out their Facebook profiles, make notes after I go out with
them.”

His mouth dropped open. “You’re
kidding. You’re only twenty.”

“
I told you, I want it
all.”

He would have laughed if she didn’t
look serious as a sixty-pound mackerel.

“
If I’m attracted to them,
if they have the essentials, they go into the funnel. Once I decide
they’re not going to work out, I let them fall out the bottom of
the funnel.”

“
How many guys are we
talking about here?”

“
Fourteen so
far.”

“
You posted
looking for
a husband
on your Facebook status and fourteen guys asked you
out?”

“
I didn’t advertise I
wanted a husband. I’m not stupid. I asked them out. I haven’t had a
no
yet.

He smirked. “My Facebook
page—”

Missy poked her finger into his chest.
“And I’m one hundred percent sure you are not my
husband.”

His hands came out of his pockets. He
wanted to grab hold of her and kiss that pig-headed expression off
her face. He wanted to make her change her mind about
him.

But
babies
fish-hooked into his
rational mind. He took a step back, lifted his hands. “Happy
hunting.”

Sated from the Thanksgiving feast, Cal
let out a contented sigh. Three-year-old, sleeping Chase’s cheek
was plastered to his leg, the rest of him sprawled across the
couch. Beside him, Six-year-old Jillian curled on Aly’s lap with
her head propped on the sofa arm.

Mom and Dad had walked his
grandparents out to Henna’s car, Fish and Evie propped against
pillows on the floor, Jesse and Kallie tangled up on the loveseat
while
White Christmas
played on the TV.

Missy had run out the front door to a
kid in a shiny white station wagon before the movie started. Cal
had caught Fish standing in the shadows peering out the window
after her.

Cal pulled out his phone and punched
in a message to Missy.
Want me 2 pound Fish? Saw him leaning
into you by the garage.

He wound Aly’s hair around his fingers
and let the silk slip across his palm.

Cal’s phone pinged.
Ha ha.
Impressed that you pulled out a While You Were Sleeping reference.
Thanks bro. I’ve got everything under control.
He
smiled.

He cupped Aly’s shoulder and inhaled
the piney scent of her shampoo near her ear. “This is what I want.
A family—”
—with you.

Aly turned her face toward
him.

“
Don’t look so surprised.
Everybody grows up eventually.”

Part of him hated the sausage casing
of his mother’s expectations—church, 401K, health and liability
auto insurance. But he’d swallow them if he had to—for
Aly.

His gaze dropped to Chase’s mouth
hanging open in sleep, a smudge of chocolate at one corner. Kids
were art itself—laughter, kinetic energy, grit, softness.
Completely selfish, they ran free till they collapsed unconscious
in your lap.

His grandparents hadn’t needed
marriage, but he craved permanence with Aly. He’d spent too many
years loving her and not having her to forego the promises. He
wanted to prove to her he had the staying power her father lacked.
If there was anything in life he was sure of, he’d love Aly
forever.

His fingers slipped under the fabric
of her blouse, and he rubbed her neck.

She leaned into his touch, her eyes
drifting shut, then back to the movie.

Even her small response heated him. He
wanted her. Same old-same old. Herpes didn’t make any difference.
He’d read up on it since Aly’s revelation at the farmer’s market.
Nothing they couldn’t deal with. She’d have to handle a butt load
of his issues.

Jesse came from a trip to the kitchen
and sat down beside Chase’s small spread-eagled body. A piece of
pumpkin pie balanced on his knee. “You haven’t been around much.
The kids miss you. I miss you.”

“
You want an ex-con
hanging with your kids? Aren’t you afraid I’ll carve up your kids
and serve them for supper?”

Jesse thwacked him in the arm. “Right.
You who brought every wounded animal you ever found to Henna’s and
nursed it back to health. Stop by the house.” He shot a glance at
his wife.

Cal read between the lines. Kallie
trusted Cal to spend time with the kids—under her supervision. Her
doubt knifed him. He’d die for those kids. “My dumbass years are
behind me.”

“
I believe you. Come
around, okay?”

Cal missed the kids, too. What else
could he do but follow what he imagined to be Kallie’s edict?
“Sure. I’ll stop over next week.”

His parents walked in as the credits
rolled. Mom’s hair hung loose, her cheeks pink. Dad’s shirttail
hadn’t completely made it into the waistband of his jeans. How long
had his parents been MIA? Geez.

Jesse and Kallie collected their kids
and traipsed through the back door.

Mom held a quiet conversation with
Evie, squeezed her neck in a rare show of affection. He had to talk
to Mom. He damn sure wasn’t going through another holiday with Evie
stalking him and Aly pulling away.

Mom and Dad said their good-nights and
headed upstairs.

Fish hugged Aly. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
He nodded curtly at Cal, the last act in his holiday
truce.

“
Later,” Evie said as the
front screen door banged behind them. Maybe she’d actually gotten
the message this time and would stay away from him.

Cal reached for his jacket off the
coat tree and saw Missy plant one on the kid with the station wagon
and run up the front walk. There was just something wrong with
seeing your kid sister making out. She must have finally gotten
over Fish.

Fish always stuck up for Missy,
protected her, kept him from teasing her, but whether the adult
Fish had more than physical appreciation for a pretty girl was
anybody’s guess. Well, Cal would do what he could to protect
Missy.

Missy banged through the front door
and gathered he and Aly into a group hug. “Happy Thanksgiving. I
love you guys.”

Cal’s throat felt tight. “Love you,
Sissy-Missy.”

“
Me, too.” Aly
said.

Missy grabbed her laptop off the desk
and jogged up the stairs. “Night!”

Cal latched onto Aly’s hand and took
her around the room turning off lamps. He stepped into the kitchen
and flipped off the light switch. “I had a good day. The best
holiday in years.” Even dodging Evie didn’t ruin a day when he felt
closer to Aly than he ever had.

Light from the garage across the drive
shone on her face. “It was my mashed potatoes.”

He pulled her into his arms. “It was
you. I’ve missed you so much these past couple of
years.”

Aly’s eyes widened, but she didn’t
push him away. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Cal’s lips claimed hers, and he forgot
for long minutes he’d promised not to kiss her less than a week
ago; the business hadn’t actually broken even yet. He forgot the
tick of the cuckoo clock on the wall—everything but the scent of
mint growing deep in a forest that clung to her, Aly’s fresh baked
bread taste, Aly melded to his heart.

His hands found their way to skin. His
fingertips traced her backbone and the contours of her body he
hadn’t seen since the last time she surfed with him years
ago.

Aly moaned. Her arms closed around his
ribs, cinching him closer.

He backed her up against the counter.
“Aly.” His breathing quickened and shallowed. His heart sped. He
bent his mouth to hers, starved for more.

Aly’s phone trilled, clattering across
his consciousness. It sounded again, and he eased away from her,
dragging in a ragged breath.

“
Hello.” Aly’s breathy
voice sounded huge in the quiet room.

He’d nearly kissed Aly to the point of
no return—in his mother’s kitchen.

Aly’s end of the conversation echoed
in the room. “Yes…. Uh huh…. Mmm. Tonight?”