Snack (11 page)

Not that I didn’t want to.

I did.

We came close one time, but Snack stopped us from going too far.

“Don’t, don’t you want to?”

“Minnie, when I’m finally with you—inside you, I know, for me, it will be perfect. I just want to make sure it’s perfect for you, too. Not just some random Wednesday when you come over after LARPing Club in that sexy Robin Hood costume.”

I smack Snack lightly on the chest and he grabs my hand. “It’s not Robin Hood. It’s Link from Legend of Zelda and you know that.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t care if you were dressed as a Mario brother, but you might have a few regrets, if your first time was on the 80s plush carpet of my parent’s family room and dressed as Peter Pan.”

“Link!”

“Whatever.”

It didn’t matter what I wore or where we were or what fucking night of the week it was, I knew it would be perfect with Snack. But it didn’t happen that night or at all because even though Snack had had sex before with other girls, for noble reasons he didn’t with me.

Just because we weren’t having actual naked sex didn’t mean we weren’t fooling around and having SWCO:
S
ex
W
ith your
C
lothes
O
n. We had lots of SWCO!

“Aaah, Oh, oh, oh my God, Min—nie!” Snack yelled while grabbing my hips as I rocked into his hardness and he thrust against my shorts.

“Mmm,” I hum with satisfaction. I loved to make him scream to the heavens and me when he let loose. I loved the way his head fell back on the couch cushion as I straddled him, partially clothed mind you, on the floor with his back against the couch. I loved the way he would look up at me afterward with complete relaxation in his face.

Snack leans up and kisses me, licking the sheen of perspiration from my upper lip. “I love your sounds.”

“I was just thinking the same thing about yours,” I whisper into his cheek.

Snack lifts me gently and sits me on the floor next to him. I adjust my underwear through my pants.

Snack takes my chin and turns my face to him, his eyes burn into mine. “How wet are you?”

“Soaked,” I reply, dropping my eyes, embarrassed by my own horniness. His low tone and candor only make me want him more.

“Good! Me, too.” Snack’s gaze moves toward the crotch of his track pants. There’s a large wet spot there.

I giggle. “Was that me or you?”

“Some of you, and a whole lot of me.” Snack chuckles and stands. “I’m gonna go upstairs and change… again. You’re gonna wear me out, Min!”

“Sorry,” I chirp as I move up to sit on the couch.

Snack leans down and kisses me on the forehead and then the nose. “Oh, never be sorry for that Minnie. Never be sorry for making me—”

“Come?”

“I was going to say happy but come works, too. How about you?”

I smile. “You always make me ‘happy.’”

I’m not lying he does. Every single time.

Snack and I couldn’t have been any more fucking obvious the morning after we spent the night in the loft. He came downstairs in the clothes he had on the night before with my dog tucked under his arm. I appeared five minutes later in a new change of clothes but the most appalling rat’s nest of a head of hair. It was only partially tamed by putting it into two tiny pigtails. We endured knowing looks from my dad and Colette. Well, I know I did. And Snack told me later it was the same for him. He said my dad actually chuckled in his face! Fifi and Aiden were none the wiser of our almost assignation—they were just pleased to see their father and to play with Wookiee while we had a quick breakfast.

“Hey, Gil!” Snack yells over his shoulder. My dad is once again in deep conversation with Colette.

My dad responds, “Yeah?”

“What are you doing today?”

“I don’t know. Probably take Minnie to the house. Hang around there for a bit.”

Snack reaches across the table and gives my hand a squeeze, and then he stands and walks over to my dad. They sort of meet halfway and talk quietly to each other, and then Dad comes over to me.

“Mouse, Snack and I are going to go dig out the El Camino. Then I’ll take you home. We need to have some time together before your date tonight.” I open my eyes wide and peer around my dad. Snack heads to the door while putting on his black beanie and puffer jacket. He turns and winks at me.

“I guess he told you about that, huh?”

“Yeah, I think it’s a great idea. You guys need to see more of each other. I don’t know what has been going on or not going on between the two of you, but you’ve been apart for too long. It’ll be nice to see you on a date, too, since I’ve never seen or met this Henry fellow of yours. I’m beginning to think he doesn’t exist.”

Henry. Hadn’t thought of him much in the past twelve hours.

“Oh, he exists, Dad. If it’s any consolation, I’ve never met his folks, either.”

I finish my breakfast and take my plate and mug to Colette, who gives me a Snackenberg hug and a smirk. Jeez! All this smirking and winking, what the hell is going on?

“So happy you’re here, sweetheart.” I briefly remember what it’s like to have a mom. At least what I
think
it should be like to have a mom.

I’m starting to get the feeling Dad didn’t bring me home just to catch up with an old friend. No. I think I might be on some sort of Princess-Leia-rescues-Han-Solo-from-carbonite type mission.

I awkwardly back out of the hug. “Me, too.” I turn and pick up Wookiee and scramble up the stairs. I throw my clothes in my weekend bag and check around the loft to be sure I’ve not left anything. Wookiee supervises the entire process from his perch atop a pillow that fell off the bed.

Once I’ve got everything, I cursorily make the bed and head back downstairs.

Dad and Snack are coming in the front door—both laughing.

I wonder what they were laughing about.

“Oh, good. You’re ready to go,” Dad says to me.

“Yep, Just need to put on my coat… and—”

Wookiee barks.

“And…Wookiee’s…”

Dad chuckles once more, then squats down and pats Wook on the head. “You’re ready to go, too, I guess, big man.”

Snack calls the kids and tells them to get ready to leave. They grumble and ask once more if the dog is coming to their house, but comply with Snack’s directive.

As I walk up to Snack and Dad, my father picks up Wookiee and takes him over to Colette. I hear them talking but can’t make out what they are saying.

Snack wraps his hand around my upper arm and pulls me in front of him. “I’m going to take the kids home. After you talk to your Dad, I’d like to come over. Maybe, you could, uh, trim this beard up for me before our date? I’ve kind of let myself go.” I’ve always cut my dad and brother’s hair, but never a beard. Talk of facial hair reminds me of Henry for a brief moment. He’s so fucking particular about his mustache he goes to a barber to have it done.

“Um, sure… I’ll give it a t-try,” I stutter. I don’t know why I stutter. Maybe it’s the impending task of cutting
his
beard, Snack’s blue eyes boring down into mine right at this moment, or his hand gripping my arm like he’ll never let me go? The cumulative effect is my current halting speech pattern and a growing need to touch him, kiss him. And have him doing the same to me.

Snack kisses me on the forehead—a soft lingering kiss. I close my eyes and let the warmth of his lips send neurons firing all over my body, straight down to my toes
and somewhere slightly higher
. The moment is far too brief as we’re quickly surrounded by parents and kids and a dog. There is a flurry of organized chaos as we leave, sans Colette who stays behind to man the café. We make our way to our respective vehicles—the kids begging for Wookiee to come to “their house” for the day. Snack and I exchange a small smile.

The house smells different. It looks like my childhood home, but it smells different and it looks empty and a bit neglected.

I place Wookiee on the floor and he scampers off to explore the split-level. Turning to my dad, I must have a big question mark plastered on my face.

“Min… let’s… uh, let’s talk. I’ll turn up the thermostat and get the place warmed up. Why don’t you put your stuff down and we can sit and talk.”

Dad does just as he says. He dials up the heat. I hear it click on and immediately smell the lack of use of the furnace in the stale air. Nobody has been living here—at all.

Dad takes off his hat and coat and drapes them over the railing. He’s being evasive. His eyes are downcast and he’s avoiding mine.

Now, I’m afraid. Is something wrong with him? Is he broke? Sick? I feel an odd shaky feeling in my chest. What’s with all the whispered discussions with Colette? “What’s up, Daddy? What’s going on?”

I’ve really never experienced my father so anxious. After pacing back and forth and apologizing for the condition of the house, he finally gets to the point.

“Minnie, I don’t really live here anymore…”

“Is something wrong? Are you losing the house? How come you didn’t tell me? I know I haven’t visited in a few months, well, more than a few months, but I didn’t realize… What happened? What’s going on?”

Dad hems and haws and then says, “Since Sid moved out in the fall the house has been too big and…” But then he comes out with the real reason. “You know Colette has been alone since Bob cheated on her and she kicked him out eight years ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we’ve gotten closer and closer since then. Clip was gone. You were
really
gone. Snack rarely came home. The only one around was Sid, and he was so involved with his friends and video games and that noise he calls a band—”

“Dad, they’re actually really good. I’ve heard them play in the city,” I interject out of sheer nervousness.

Sid. We never called him Sidney. He was Sid. Sidney was a name more commonly associated with dashing African American actors and film producers with thick trimmed glasses or more morosely, with a murdered punk rocker—not with someone like my precious, obnoxious, redheaded baby brother. And yet it fit him perfectly.

“I know. My point
is
Colette was lonely and I was, too. We gravitated toward each other. First, it was just spending time together, but now—” And then Dad finally blurts. “I love her and she loves me.” He looks at me, eyebrows raised in apprehension of my response.

“That’s a
good
thing, right? Why do you look scared, Dad?”

“I just didn’t know how you’d feel about it. You haven’t been home much. You’ve been avoiding Downers Grove and Snack for years. We only got together as a family for Christmas this year for dinner. In a hotel. I just didn’t know the right time to tell you. And then Snack came home after Megan died, and I was over at Colette’s all the time and—”

“You want to know what I think? About you being with Colette?”

Dad sheepishly replies, “Yeah.”

“I think…” I need to put this poor guy out of his misery. This is really great news. I’m happy my dad has found someone. He’s been alone for so long and he’s never dated before as far as I know. “I think it’s great! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to be sure. I was afraid you’d never come home because of Colette being Snack’s mother. I don’t know. I was being stupid.”

“Dad, it’s OK. I understand. Sometimes it’s hard to know what’s going on in a relationship or how to define it or even explain it to yourself, let alone people outside of it. Really, I’m so happy for you.”

My dad’s face lights up with a smile of relief. “Thank you. I feel so lucky to have found Colette. I never thought I’d be in love again.

It’s wonderful and also a bit weird to hear my dad talk about being in love. It also sparks a little flame of hope for me and my bizarre love history.

I suddenly have a thought. “The boys?”

“Yes. They know. I already told them.”

They knew before I did. Not surprising since I haven’t been as involved with them or my dad as I should have over the past few years.

“Minnie, I hope this isn’t too much too soon, but… I’m putting the house on the market soon, probably in the spring. I’ve slowly been selling or moving things to Colette’s. While you’re here you may want to pack up whatever’s left in your room.”

“Good idea. It can’t be that much.”

“Oh, and one more thing…” Dad stands, pulling me up with him to face him. “Colette and I are getting married.”

My mouth drops open. I close it because nothing comes out and then it opens on its own again. I’m trying to think of the words to say.

“Is that legal?” I ask because I’ve been under the impression that my dad is still married to my mother.

Dad tilts his head and his eyebrows knit together. “Of course,” he says in a confused voice. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Aren’t you still married to Mom?” I don’t know why I’m stuck on this point. I just never thought about my dad getting remarried. In my mind, he was always married to my mother.

“Yeah, Minnie, I never told you. You kids had already been through so much. Mouse, I’m so sorry. The divorce became final a few years ago. Do you remember sometimes I would go away on business trips for weeks at a time and Mimi would take care of you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I was working out how to make sure your mother was taken care of and how to get divorced. It took a long time. There are very specific rules about how long a person has to be declared… insane”—My dad gulps a few times—“before a, um, judge will grant a divorce.”

I cut him off. It’s my turn to confess. “I never told you, but I went to visit Mom at the hospital a few times, too. When I was back east at school. I just had to see her. It never crossed my mind to tell you about my visits. Just like you never told me about yours. I guess, I thought, since we never talked about her, we were just supposed to act like she didn’t exist, but I never stopped wondering about her.

My dad lowers his head into his hands before looking up at me again. “Yeah, I won’t deny I’ve struggled with not keeping your mother’s memory present, but the woman that was my wife and your mom was gone. I didn’t want you to have any more pain.”