Lonesome Beds and Bumpy Roads (Beds #3) (11 page)

Dammit to hell, she’s
always
on my brain.

“Talk about dumb shit, will you?” I say to Brett as he tosses a piece of popcorn up and catches it.

“All right,” he says. “That bed you bought… yeah, it’s never gonna make it into your room.”

“Don’t think I’ll pay it off, huh?”

“No…” he says, pushing another piece of popcorn into his mouth. “I think it’ll get stuck in the hallway.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“I bet you laundry duty it won’t be.”

“Deal.”

A woman a few rows down turns and shushes us, and I raise an eyebrow at her. The lights haven’t even dimmed yet.

The guy next to her leans in close to pacify her then flicks his eyes back to us.

“You’re shitting me,” I breathe out, and Brett laughs as I hide my face and kick a foot up on the seat in front of us. Of course Lex’s dad is here. Lex’s dad who does not look like he did when he was telling Lex that he was on his deathbed. He’s laughing and grinning and kissing up on the playboy bunny. Guess he doesn’t recognize me… then again, he’s only seen me once before.

I wait like that till the lights dim, and Brett whispers if I want him to dump the popcorn on that woman’s head. It’s tempting, but I’d suggest moving it a little more to the left.

I can seriously not catch a break today.

I drop Mom off at a meeting and wave goodbye. She’s been going to a lot of them since that day Ryan found her in the liquor aisle of the grocery store. As I pull away I see Roger meet her, and I’m grateful despite the breakup he’s still willing to be there for her.

I pull into the hotel parking lot my dad’s staying at and put the car in park. I check my cell to see if I have any texts or missed calls. Not a single one. Ryan and I haven’t really spoken much since yesterday’s fight and it’s throwing me completely off-center.

The last thing I wanted to do was cancel on him. Our time together is so precious lately, but we’ll have forever. My dad on the other hand…

Dad walks out of the hotel, a slight limp in his step as he makes his way to my car. It hurts to see him frail and aging. The dad I remember was young and vibrant. Then again the last time I saw him, I was young myself. But this new version of him makes me wonder…maybe he’s being a hundred percent honest. Maybe he is…dying.

He opens the door and slides into the passenger seat. “Hey, munchkin. You haven’t been waiting long have you?”

“Just got here.”

“I’m a little slower than I used to be. I meant to be out here when you pulled up.”

“It’s no problem really.”

“Where are we off to?”

“I’m always up for food,” I say with a cheesy smile.

“Food sounds good. How about a nice steak?”

“Ben’s makes a pretty good one for the cost.”

“I was thinking we could get away from town and head a little north.”

“Do you have some place in mind?”

“Nope. It’s just such a gorgeous afternoon we should take a drive.”

“I’m all for a little adventure,” I say and put the car in gear, heading towards the exit.

I turn onto the street and continue to the highway, taking the exit to go north. Dad cracks his window and I take his lead, lowering mine.

The warm May air tosses my hair, and I don’t care that it’s going to be a knotty mess; it feels awesome. I glance over to Dad, his head is back and his eyes are closed, and he rubs at his forehead with two fingers.

“You okay?” I ask, worried that maybe too much fresh air might not be good for him.

“Just enjoying the sunshine.”

“Maybe we should stay close. What if something happens to you? I’d want to be near a hospital,” I sputter, every worst case scenario running rapid through my mind, trying to see if I catch him off his game. If he even has a game…

He rests his hand on my shoulder, giving me a reassuring squeeze. “Really, I’m fine.”

His mouth twitches, and I don’t know if it’s his “tell” or if he’s just tired. If he’s really sick or
acting
like he’s really sick. My gut is so messed up I don’t know what it’s saying. So I stick my eyes on the road and try to remember all the things I’d planned on saying to my father if I ever did see him again. There were so many things, but of course now that I’m here, I can only think of the one.

“Did you ever think about us?” I ask. The question has been weighing on my mind for so long. The words spill off my tongue, dripping fear in every syllable. It’s a question I’m not sure I can face the answer to. So I keep my eyes focused on the road, afraid of what his expression might reveal.

We hit a red light, and with no verbal response, curiosity gets the best of me and I glance in his direction. He runs a hand over his face and when it falls to his lap I see sadness in his eyes.

“All the time.” He looks out the window and appears to be lost in thought. After a few moments he turns to me. “Leaving you and your mother wasn’t easy. But I did what I had to do. And if I had to do it again I would. I would never put either of you in danger. Ever.”

A rogue tear slips down my cheek and I swat at it. I had accepted the fact that my father abandoned me. Questioned if I did things differently, if I was a better kid if it would’ve made a difference. And now I know. There was nothing I could have done to keep him with us. He made a choice to protect us and, even though he ripped our hearts out in the process, he’s here now, making things right.

He has no idea how badly I needed to hear that.

I swallow hard and then clear my throat to make sure my voice sounds like we’re simply talking about our favorite kinds of ice cream. “I… I graduate in a month. We get two tickets. If you want… I mean, you can come.”

“It would be an honor,” he says. 

A smile spreads so wide across my face you’d think I just found a pot ‘o’ nail polish at the end of a rainbow.

“So what about college?” he says, taking the tense air away with his cheerful grin. “Do you have money saved?”

“I have a little savings.” I laugh. “Enough to fit in a pig in my bedroom.”

“I wish I could give you something. I just…I don’t have it.”

“It’s okay. Really. Between scholarships and my jobs, I have enough to get started.”

“I’m proud of you.”

I take the next exit and pull off the highway. When the car comes to a stop I put it in park, tapping my nails against the shifter. They are mere words, but their impact is of epic proportions. So many years I had nightmares of Dad leaving me. Feared that he was disappointed in me and now…he’s
proud
of me.

Taking a very shaky breath, I unravel my fingers from the shifter and place them on his arm. He looks down at my hand with silent awe and wonder, mixed with confusion and sorrow. I gulp. Take another breath. Choke back the tears I feel burning behind my eyes. Then slowly…

Hug my father.

Dad’s arms tighten on me and for the first time in forever, I feel the broken pieces of my life come back together.

***

Three hours, four slices of pizza, and a two-liter bottle of soda later, I drop Dad off at the hotel. He gives me a wave and heads inside.

As soon as Dad disappears from view, Ryan pops into my mind. I hate how we left things off yesterday. We don’t fight. Or if we do, we make up seconds later. I have to fix this, even if I don’t think I’m wrong. But like Grams always tells us, “Choose your battles.”

I have the rest of the pizza in a to-go box, and knowing Ryan probably hasn’t eaten dinner yet, I head over to the shop. He should be getting off in ten minutes. I park in the next parking lot over, grab the box and pull a Mission Impossible to the IROC.

Luckily, he left the door unlocked and I slip into the backseat and duck. He’s either going to be excited, or I’m going to scare the ever-living daylights out of him. 

I hear him in the parking lot a few minutes later, saying goodbye to someone. He opens the door and when the motor rumbles to life, I wrap my hands around his eyes and lean close to his ear.

“Guess who?” I whisper, lingering just shy of his skin.

He doesn’t scream. His hand reaches up and pulls mine down, turning around to see me. His eyes shoot wide in excitement and a goofy grin settles on his face.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss the spot where it meets his shoulder. “Surprised?”

“I didn’t think you were talking to me.”

“I’m sorry. Can we please forget about yesterday? I miss you.”

He doesn’t say anything. He turns off the car, climbs over the seat, and stumbles face-first into the back headrest. We both laugh and he grabs my sides, pinning me to the soft leather.

His lips press against mine and when his tongue swipes at the crease, I part my mouth to let him in. I reach up, tugging his hair and arching into him.

“This backseat has been getting a workout,” I say.

“Too bad it’s never got the complete show,” he says, nudging my nose with his before capturing my lips.

I pull away, resting my forehead against his. “Come on, I have another surprise,” I say.

“I hope it’s food. I’m so hungry I keep smelling pizza,”

I lift my butt and pull out the to-go box. “Your nose isn’t fooling you. I brought you dinner. It’s a little…um squished now.”

Ryan flips the box open, cheese stretching from the pizza to the top of the cardboard. He doesn’t even use his fingers, just dips his head and bites the long string of cheesy yumminess.

“This is good. Definitely not Tony’s. Where’d you get it?”

“Dad and I took a trip up North. It was a place called Bella Vino.”

“Fancy,” he says and I don’t like the look in his eye. They look like they’re on the verge of rolling, but he’s forcing them to stay in place.

“We talked. He’s coming to graduation.” The vein in Ryan’s neck strains and I push my fingers into it. “Why does that make you mad?”

“It doesn’t.”

“Keep going and you’ll be as purple as a grape.”

He sighs then his eyes lock with mine. “Are you happy?”

And for the first time since my dad showed up at my door, I feel like I can answer that. “I am.”

“That’s all I want to hear.”

His words say one thing but his eyes say something else. A part of him still doesn’t trust my dad. I rest my hand on his cheek and lock our gazes. “I promise you, he won’t hurt me again. I won’t let him.”

The distrusting look in his eyes slowly starts to dissipate. He kisses my nose and I swat at his chest. “You just got sauce on my nose.”

His tongue snakes out and licks me.

“Eww!” I squeal and he takes a huge bite of pizza then tries to kiss me.

“So what’s the surprise?”

I rest my head against his shoulder, enjoying just being with him. “You know what, never mind. This is perfect.”

“I’m not complaining, but now I’m curious.”

“I wanted to go to our spot.”

“The abandoned amusement park?”

I nod against his chest.

“We can go. We haven’t been in a while.”

“I don’t want to anymore. That’s our past and I want to stop living there. It’s time we keep looking forward. And right now the only thing I want is to be right here.”

Ryan kisses my forehead, his finger running down my cheek. “I like that idea. And maybe we can complete the show for this seat. You know keep moving forward and all.”

“You’re a pig.” I smack his chest and he takes my hand, lacing his fingers with mine.

He kisses my knuckle. “And you love me.”

“God knows why,” I joke.

“Oh, I can show you why.” Ryan trails a path of hot kisses down my neck.

“I don’t think God will approve.”

He rests his lips against my ear. “I never said he would.”

I turn my mouth to Ryan’s and sink down with him into the seat.

Intermission was long enough. It’s time to end the show.

“You didn’t tell her did you?” Kaylee scolds me over the phone Friday night after my shift. I’m glad she can’t see my face right now because I’m about to spout bull.

“She doesn’t know a thing.” I push the key into the car door and plop inside. “What about Nate?”

“Oh he promptly forgot everything the second I took my shirt off.”

“I really wish I could use that tactic.”

She lets out a laugh, and I tap my key on the steering wheel, anxious to get on the road. My paycheck is already burning a hole in my pocket, the amount on it about three-hundred more than I thought it was going to be. I guess I worked longer hours than I realized, and now I have enough to pay off that bed. Pop-pop’s getting the trailer ready right now so we can pick it up.

“So be here at four tomorrow to help me set up, ‘kay?”

“Yep.” I’ll be surprising Lex in the morning. Bring her back to my place to show her the gift, then maybe help her into her birthday suit.

“Don’t forget Nate’s magic box.”

“I know, Kaylee. I’ll bring it.”

“Thanks.” A few voices shout in the background. “Oh, gotta go. Dinner. Bye!”

I chuckle to myself as I hang up, shaking my head and putting the cell in the cup holder. Kaylee and I have been planning this joint birthday party for weeks, but like me and my present to Lex, she’s been keeping tight-lipped about her present for Nate. My boy’s gonna lose his mind when she pulls it out.

I head to the bank, deposit my check then back into my driveway where Brett and Pop-pop are rolling the trailer out. Normally Pop-pop tells me to back off when I try to take over the heavy lifting, but he lets me this time with no argument.

“I’ll keep the front seat warm,” he says with a tip of his worn-out Broncos cap. I watch him ease into the IROC, then catch him through the side mirror holding his chest and closing his eyes.

“He okay?” I ask Brett, who gives me an extremely helpful shrug before he tries to lift the trailer onto the hitch. I shake my head and help him, then let him secure it in place while I check on Pop-pop.

“We got this,” I say, resting an arm against the roof of the car. “You can stay here if you want.”

Pop-pop’s eyes open, and the corner of his lips rises a bit. “I’ve been in that house for five days straight. Don’t you make me go back in for another hour.”

I laugh and let my arm drop. He sounds all right. Maybe he’s just tired.

“All set!” Brett calls out, and I walk back and push on the trailer to make sure. Seems okay, so we pile in the car and head to the department store’s warehouse. Pop-pop keeps his eyes closed the whole time while I try to keep
my
eyes on the road and not on him.

***

All four of us—Pop-pop, Grams, Brett, and I—look into the front door of our house, all the way down the hallway to my room, which is the second on the left.

“It’ll fit,” Pop-pop says. But the rest of us all give him a look like he’s lost his mind.

“Sure it will,” Brett says with a smirk in my direction. Damn… I forgot about our laundry bet. I’m going to have to wash his unmentionables.

Brett puts a hand on the box spring, shaking his head, but going along with it. I pick up the other side and Grams starts directing us in.

“Okay boys, watch the ledge there. Oh the doorknob’s in the way. Jack hold the door open, will you? Oh the chandelier! Watch the chandelier! Oh Lord have mercy, the pictures. Ryan stop, stop,
stop
!”

Brett drops the box spring and I try to peek over the bulk. I catch Grams pulling all the framed photos of these inspiring and funny quotes she collects, gathering them up in her arms and carrying them to the kitchen table. Pop-pop leans over my head and then lets out a laugh.

“Aim for that picture of the creepy cat,” he whispers in my ear, but loud enough that Grams hears him and calls him something under her breath. She then repents two seconds later.

Once Grams has cleared the hallway—including the hanging cat picture—she starts directing us back in. We do pretty good, and I’m thinking Pop-pop may be right. This massive bed’ll be no problem to squeeze in my teeny, tiny room.

But then we hit the turn.

“Push it,” Brett says, his voice muffled somewhere near the ground as he pulls the box spring.

“I
am
pushing.” There’s freaking sweat along my hairline.

“Maybe turn it around?” Grams suggests, but we ignore it because the bed is the same shape no matter what end we put in first.

“What’s it stuck on?” Pop-pop asks over the top of the box spring at Brett.

“Door jam. We might have to take the door off.”

I step back a second for a breather, setting my hands on my hips. All I can see of my brother is his fingers resting at the top of the box spring. I’m stuck in the hallway, ducking under the built-in shelves Pop-pop put in when Dad wanted a spot for his model car collection when he was a kid. Some of them are still up there, but a few of mine are now too.

Blowing out a breath, I take a long look at the bed, then the mattress outside. I want so bad to start my life with Lex, to have our own shelves in our own place, and I’m anxious to show her this pretty ballsy move by getting a bed. It’s forward, but I picture the look on her face when she walks into my room and sees it. It’s kickass romantic.

So I’m getting the damn thing in this room.

“One more push,” I say. “Then if it doesn’t work, we’ll try with the door off.”

I hear Brett take a breath. “All right. On three.”

“One,” I start, getting a firm grip on the box spring. “Two. Three!”

My muscles lock up and a unified grunt comes out of me and my brother. If someone was to walk by the house, they’d think someone was giving birth to a deranged gorilla. The bed isn’t moving. It doesn’t budge even though I swear I’m using the strength of a HEMI. And just when I’m about to throw in the towel and let my arms drop in defeat, the box spring lurches forward. Brett lets out a high-pitched, “Yipe!” and I fall nearly flat on my face in the hallway. Then the bed stops as abruptly as it started moving.

Pop-pop is bent in half, wheezing at us both.

“Hey, what’s… what’s it… caught on…?” I pant out to Brett, then slump against the unmoving box spring.

“The wall,” he pants back.

“The back wall?”

“Yeah.” He takes a couple breaths. “Hate to break it to you, but unless you want to sleep vertically, it’s not going to work.”

My ass hits the floor, exhaustion and disappointment sweeping my feet from under me. I toss my head back, letting it tap against the wall. It’s a stupid thing to get upset over. I mean, there are far worse things in life than my brand new California King not fitting into the room it won’t even be in for long. But it feels like just another thing on top of the shitcake.

“What do you wanna do?” Brett asks, his voice sounding like he’s hit the floor too.

I flick my eyes up to Grams, the only person I can actually see now. She puts a consoling hand on my shoulder, and I hold it there, not realizing how much I need it.

“Storage, I guess. Till I move out.”

Grams squeezes my shoulder, and I squeeze her hand back.

“All right. Pull on three,” Brett says. “I’ll push.”

I pat Grams’ hand and get to my feet, making sure Pop-pop’s out of the way. Brett counts it out, and on three we get it about five feet, and then it’s stuck again.

And it’s the perfect metaphor for how my life is going right now.