At First Hate, page 18
“Of course, sir.”
Derek popped open the door and held his hand out for me.
I took it gratefully but said, “You don’t have to do any of this.”
“I know.” He threaded our fingers together. “But I want to.”
“I’ll find a way to pay you back.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
I headed up the stairs to the front of Gran’s house. Just being home made me so much more solid. Like this was where I was supposed to be. My bones belonged here. Savannah was smaller than Durham and Cambridge by a long shot. It wasn’t big or glamorous, but it was home.
I knocked once on the front door and then let myself inside. “Gran?”
“Marley, you made it.” Gran scooped me up in her arms. She smelled like earth and fresh bread and a hint of the lavender perfume she’d been wearing for years. “I’m so glad that you could get here so quickly.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Derek.”
He was still standing in the doorway. Half in, half out, as if he were intruding.
“Well, come in, young man. I’ve heard an awful lot about you.”
“I don’t know whether that’s good or bad,” he said with a short laugh.
Gran just pulled him into an unexpected hug. “Whatever happened before hardly matters now. You brought my Marley home.” She patted him on the back twice. “Now, close the door and come inside. You’re more than welcome to share a meal with us. We’re having fried chicken and okra. The sweet tea is better than whatever you’ve been drinking. Maddox should be here any minute. He’s so busy with that damn job.”
Derek glanced back outside at the car, waved the driver off, and then carefully stepped inside. “What’s Maddox doing these days?”
Gran headed for the kitchen. “Something with computers.”
“Graphic design and animation,” I filled in for him.
“Ah, that’s what he said at Thanksgiving.”
“Right,” I said, forgetting momentarily that he’d hung out with Maddox when he visited me last semester. “He started his own company, Mad Son Productions.”
“Ah, clever. Maddox Nelson. Mad Son.”
“Yeah. It’s so him,” I said with a shrug. “He got him an in with Pixar.”
“That must be exciting.”
I nodded. “Yeah, he’s actually doing phenomenal. Not that he talks about it much.”
Another knock sounded on the door, and then Maddox burst into the house. “Made it.” A small shih tzu mix yapped at his heels. “Easy, Walt. Jesus, I’m going to let you go.”
Maddox removed the leash from Walt’s collar, and the dog zoomed around the living room like he belonged there. I laughed at his zoomies, but it was Derek who bent down to pet the tiny, ferocious predator. Walt took a liking to him immediately, jumping up into his lap and trying to lick Derek’s face off.
“Walt, come on,” Maddox said in exasperation.
Maddox’s girlfriend, Teena, shook her head as she stepped inside. “That dog is trouble.”
“Yeah,” Maddox said with a sigh. “Sunny loves him at least.”
Sunny was Lila’s dachshund. Lila had been living with Maddox since she started PT school in August, and it was a miracle that their two little dogs got along.
“No, Lila?” I asked Maddox.
Maddox shook his head. “She had something at school. She said that she’ll definitely be there for the funeral and to tell you she was sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said, waving it away. “It’s all so unexpected.”
Maddox glanced over at Derek, who had picked up Walt and was cradling the dog in his arms like a baby. Walt looked up at him with hero worship. It was adorable. “Didn’t know you were bringing anyone with you.”
“Sort of last minute,” I choked out.
“Yeah,” Maddox said, scratching the back of his head. He held his hand out to Derek, who set Walt down to shake. “Good to see you again, man.”
“Same. Though not the best circumstances.”
Teena was introduced to Derek, and then everyone was ushered into the dining room. For a few blissful moments, everything felt normal. Gran’s cooking was as spectacular as always. Derek and I both had second helpings. We couldn’t find good Southern cooking in Boston. Maddox and Gran playfully argued about his career. Teena talked about the baking projects she’d been working on and how she wanted to get Gran’s buttermilk pie recipe. It was almost like at any second, Gramps would walk in from the backyard. He’d wash his dirt-covered hands in the mudroom before stepping into Gran’s clean kitchen. She’d joke about how he always brought the entire garden inside with him. After dinner, they’d dance to the tinny tunes playing through the radio they’d had since the ’60s.
But there was no Gramps. No gardening or jokes or dancing. I soaked up the time with my family, but we were missing a person, and each of us felt it distinctly with his empty chair at the head of the table.
Then, just after we cleared the plates and Gran was serving up dessert—her favorite Coca-Cola cake—a knock came from the door.
“I’ll get it,” Gran said. “Probably another friend bringing us food.”
I grimaced. People meant well. I was sure it was thoughtful, but having the reminder of Gramps’ death over and over again didn’t help anything but to dig the knife in deeper.
Then, I heard the voices from the other room. My eyes snapped to Maddox’s. For a second, we were little kids again, able to read each other’s minds like only twins were capable of doing. Without a word, we both shoved our chairs back and headed for the kitchen door.
“What’s going on?” Teena asked.
“Stay here,” Maddox said roughly.
I didn’t look at Derek, but I could sense his confusion. This was the last thing I’d wanted him to see when he took me home. There was one thing that I hid from nearly everyone in my life—my mother.
“Hannah, now isn’t the time,” Gran said with a sigh.
“This shouldn’t take too long,” my mom said, pushing past Gran and into the house.
She caught sight of me and Maddox stepping out of the kitchen and frowned. She was as stunning as ever, maybe more so. She’d had some work done since the last time I’d seen her. I only knew that it had happened because I’d memorized the face of the woman who had abandoned us. Her breasts were larger. Her smile plumper. Her forehead didn’t move. For someone whose entire existence depended on that unmistakable beauty, she had taken very good care of it. I used to think she looked like a supermodel, but I’d seen some of those too recently to think it this time. She looked like a pale imitation of that effortless beauty. A Southern caricature with big, dark hair and too-tight clothes.
“Kids,” she said with a sly smile.
Neither of us spoke. I felt Maddox touch my spine, the way he had when we were kids and Mom showed up unexpectantly. A constant reassurance.
“Hannah,” Gran repeated more sternly.
“Oh, stuff it,” Mom said with an eye roll. “You called me, remember?”
“Yes,” she said, losing her edge. “I called you to let you know your father had passed away. I believed that you’d want that information.”
She laughed, hoarse and dismissive. “That man isn’t my father.”
Gran colored. “Hannah Marie!”
“I was the disappointment, Mom,” she said with bitterness. “Remember? Knocked up too early. He told me to get rid of them.”
I winced. That didn’t sound like Gramps at all.
“He was mad, and he was wrong. He admitted it. We’ve had this conversation before. Bringing it up now in front of the kids is just cruel.”
“Of course I’m the cruel one when he was the one who wanted me to abort them.”
My fury pounded through me. “He’s the one who raised us. Not you.”
Maddox tensed next to me.
“Marley Sue,” Gran said with a shake of her head. “That’s enough, everyone. It’s been a long, trying day. If you want something, Hannah, just spit it out.”
The kitchen door creaked behind us. I winced slightly, knowing that Derek and Teena must have seen and heard everything that had happened. Mom glanced in that direction, and her eyes widened. Derek came to stand on my other side. His presence warm and comforting next to me. Between him and Maddox, I felt… safe.
“I think you should go,” he said slowly.
I put my arm out to stop him. “It’s fine.”
Mom met my gaze, and she smirked. I could read everything she was saying in that look. Derek looked like a tasty treat to her. And probably something about how her looks had won me a boy this attractive. Because how else could I get him for myself? Same old, same old. Unfortunately, it didn’t make me feel any less disgusting.
She swung back to Gran. “I want the money. A thousand.”
Gran pursed her lips, but she fished out her checkbook despite our protests. She wrote out the check and threw it at her daughter. “Get some help with the money.”
My mom rolled her eyes and then slammed back through the door. She was gone as fast as she had come.
“On that note,” Gran said with a sigh as she wiped a tear from her eye, “who wants cake?”
25
Savannah
March 15, 2013
It rained the day before Gramps’ funeral. The ground was sodden and squelched under our feet. Lila’s heels kept sinking down in the earth. She shifted from foot to foot as she held my hand. I was glad that I’d gone for flats. As if I could think about fashion at all. Not today.
The ceremony was short in the church. His body was carried to a plot in a local cemetery. Gran had the spot next to his already picked out for hopefully much farther in the future. He was put into the ground. Flowers placed on top of the casket. Dirt shoveled inside. I didn’t hear the words spoken. I just stared numbly, and felt like I’d been scooped from the inside out.
Lila kept an arm around me as we walked away from the whole thing. Gran was still speaking to those who had come. Maddox and Teena disappeared as soon as they could get out of there. I was glad that I had Lila here. I could have invited Derek, but it felt too soon. I didn’t even know what we were yet. We hadn’t defined anything, and he hadn’t known Gramps at all.
He’d gone home to his parent’s house Monday night after Mom fucked everything up and told me to text or call if I needed anything. I hadn’t yet. He seemed to understand I needed the time to grieve and was radio silent as well.
“I missed you, Mars,” Lila said.
We stepped up onto the sidewalk and out of the grass, heading toward Lila’s awaiting car.
“I missed you too. You could come visit, you know? Maddox and Josie did.”
Lila nudged me. “Maddox and Josie aren’t in school. They’re off being important.”
“True.”
Lila cast a secretive look in my direction, “Gran mentioned a boy.”
“Oh God.” I ducked my chin in embarrassment.
“Spill!”
“What did she say?”
“Just that he flew you out here, so you could make the funeral. That’s so sweet.”
It was sweet. And I wanted to tell her. I just… couldn’t. Everything felt too up in the air. I didn’t know what Derek and I were, where it was going, or whether I was ready for it.
“It’s too new,” I said with a peek at her. “I’m not ready to talk about it.”
“Oh, come on. I told you about me and Ash.”
“And it was an overshare,” I said with a laugh.
She squeezed my shoulder. “At least you’re laughing.”
“Yeah. What’s your plan for the rest of the day?”
She winced. “I have to get back to school. I’m free this weekend. Are you still going to be here?”
“I’m leaving tomorrow. I need to get back to school too.”
“Damn. I hate being this far away from my bestie.”
“Same.”
“Where should I drop you off?” she asked when we got to her car.
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll wait for Gran.”
“You sure?”
I nodded at her and then gave my best friend a long hug. She pressed a kiss to my temple, squeezed me tighter, and then headed out. I watched her go with a sigh. I should have told her about Derek. I should have told her all the many times shit had happened with us. But there was just so much history that it felt weird to tell her now.
Gran looked like she would be occupied for a while. She caught me waiting for her and strode over. “You can take the car. Someone else will take me home.”
“No, I can wait.”
“Marley, I love you, but go home. I’ll be okay.”
She hugged me, passing me the keys.
I handed them back. “I’ll call Derek.”
She grinned. “Good.”
When I dialed his number, he answered immediately and told me he’d be there in ten minutes. It was more like fifteen, but a shiny black Escalade pulled into the cemetery. He jumped out, jogged around the car, and held open the passenger door for me.
“Thanks,” I said softly.
He got back into the driver’s side and pulled away. “Where to?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to walk around. I don’t want to do anything.”
His hand slipped over mine, and he held it easily, as if he’d always been allowed to do that. “I have an idea. You trust me?”
I arched an eyebrow. “No.”
He shot me a look that melted me. “Trust me.”
“Okay.”
Twenty minutes later, we pulled up into the marina that I’d once driven out to so I could ruin Derek’s date.
“I’m not exactly dressed for it.”
He shrugged. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure I have a jacket and blankets if you get cold on the water.”
I responded by hopping out of the car. He immediately took my hand again and led me out onto the dock. A lock had been added since we’d last been here, and he punched in a code that let us into the marina. His same sailboat sat where it had been all those years before. It had been spruced up in the intervening years, and he jumped onto it like he’d been born on the water.
He offered me his hand, and I stepped precariously onto the thing. It rocked under my feet. I stumbled forward, catching the wheel to keep from falling.
I winced. “Sorry.”
He chuckled, already moving about the boat with ease. “You’ve never been out. I’ve seen worse on a first run.”
“Great,” I grumbled. I watched him work for a few minutes. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Do you know anything about sailing?”
“Uh, that’s starboard,” I said, pointing off to the right.
“Correct.” His smile was megawatt when he glanced back at me. “I can show you some things to do, but maybe you should just sit.”
“Sitting isn’t so great right now.”
He nodded, a flash of sympathy in his expression. “Okay. Untie that line but hold it steady.”
The next half hour was spent not thinking about anything at all. Not a thing, except how to make this sailboat functional. It took a lot to make it do its thing. Derek claimed it was all really easy and would become instinctual with a little practice, but I doubted it. He’d been doing it since he was a kid, so of course, he thought that. I thought aerials and a la second turns were also instinctual, but I wasn’t about to ask him to do any.
“All right, hold the wheel,” he said as he jerked on a rope. “This is tacking.”
The boom thumped to the other side of the boat, tilting us slightly to the left. He tied off the rope, the sail caught in the wind, and then we were heading gently in the other direction.
“That’s about it. You tack when you want to change direction into the wind. Luckily, we have the wind today.”
My mind was whirring. “That was a lot of information.”
“You’re smart. You can handle it.”
“I work in a lab all day, and somehow, this was more taxing.”
“Physical labor stretches you.”
I shrugged as he came around behind the wheel. I stepped aside, but he kept me in place, wrapping his arms around mine and clutching the wheel. His body encased mine. I leaned against his chest, dropping my head back onto him. He ducked his head down and kissed my neck.
“I’m glad you called me.”
“Me too,” I said.
This was apparently what I needed. The physical side of getting a sailboat moving. The salty, humid wind in my face. Water surrounding me on all sides as we headed toward the bay.
We stood like that on the water until he had to tack again. I got the hang of it after we did it a few more times. It certainly wasn’t second nature. He had instincts on the water that had come from years of doing this. But I also understood why he loved it as much as he did. He was entirely himself out here. No one else. He didn’t have to act. He didn’t have to be his father’s son. He could just be a man on his boat. A man in control of his destiny.
Eventually, he let the sail back down and sat us in the middle of the bay, overlooking seven different islands. We bobbed in the water as he helped me walk out onto the bow of the boat. He dropped down cushions from the interior of the boat, and we cuddled up together with nature all around us.
“Derek,” I said.
He was running a hand down my arm. “Yeah?”
“What are we doing?”
“Sailing.”
I laughed softly. “I mean, what are we doing?”
He propped himself up onto an elbow and looked down at me. “What do you want us to be doing?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then, we can keep doing this if you want.”
I cupped his jaw in my hand and then drew him down for a kiss. He responded instantly, opening my mouth with his tongue and sliding his inside. We kissed for a few minutes, unhurried.
“You don’t kiss friends like that.”
He chuckled. “No. Not any friends I’ve ever had.” He brushed back my wild curls. “But you’ve had a rough week, and we don’t have to define anything right now. We can take our time. We can just enjoy what we have.”
