That One Day (That One #1.5) (27 page)

“Ben?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“This is the best New Year’s Eve I could have ever wished for and it’s because you’re here with me. Thank you.” She snuggles closer, setting her glass of lemonade down on the counter. I encircle her with my arms, her face is pressed against my heart.

“From now on, I’ll make sure every New Year’s Eve is the best one you’ve ever had, babe.”

“Three…two…one.” We hear the countdown from the living room, followed by cheers.

“Happy New Year, Ben.”

“It already is.” I kiss her lips. She tastes of lemonade and donuts, sweet and delicious. It’s a taste of our future, full of promise and devotion.             

Unfortunately, good and carefree doesn’t usually last long for me.

The mood sinks like the Titanic when I call my dad the next day to wish him a Happy New Year. Every single time I talk to him, the uneasy feeling in my stomach comes back, the knowledge this could be me one day.

I’m trying to be there for him, but if I’m honest, some days I cut the phone calls short on purpose. Today is one of those times when I want to be anywhere but on the phone with him, especially once he starts asking about a visit again.

“So, Son, when will you visit your old man and introduce me to my grandson and your woman?” He sounds jovial, but there is a hint of accusation in his voice.

“It’ll be a while. Maybe we can aim for Easter, if things work out.”

“Not much I can do about that, I guess.”

Talking to my dad is like trying to navigate a minefield. You never know when he’s going to blow up or be set off by something.

“You gotta understand Frankie has school and work. We can’t just take off whenever we want.” I’m sitting on the floor in our room, Archer crawling around, occasionally stopping to try to poke me in the nose or eye. Frankie is curled up on the armchair, now intently watching me when she notices my irritation. I sigh, leaning my head against the bed, closing my eyes.

“You could come with Archer.”

“Dad, I’d love to see you. But Archer needs his mom, and besides, I’m still new to this. Flying with him or driving such a distance is too much. And it hasn’t been that long since I left,” I argue, hoping to get through the fog of emotions he seems to be in today.

“First, it’s your mother, now Frankie, who keeps you away from me.”

“That’s not fair. No one is keeping me away from you. I just have responsibilities, and I’m starting a couple college courses soon. It’s not possible.” I try not to show that his words have upset me. Comparing my mother to Frankie is a low blow; he should know better. But, then again, it’s his depression causing him to lash out, be unreasonable.

He takes a ragged breath. “Sorry, Ben. That was inappropriate. It’s just really lonely since you’ve left. I don’t mean to stand in your way or make it hard for you.”

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I think I’ll go lie down now. I need a quiet moment. Tell Frankie I said hello and Happy New Year.”

“Will do. Same to you.”

I hang up, exhaling loudly.

“You okay?” I open my eyes to find Frankie crouching down in front of me, Archer immediately attempting to climb on her back. She takes ahold of his arms and holds them around her neck, so he doesn’t fall down.

“Yeah, it’s just draining to talk to him.” I pause, unsure if I should ask her what’s on my mind. Then again, we agreed to not keep secrets. “Babe, do you think I have mood swings? Or do I ever seem unbalanced to you?”

She gives me a sympathetic look, then reaches behind her and detaches Archer from her back. Kissing him on the tip of his nose, she sets him back down on the floor. “Little monkey, Momma needs to talk to your daddy, ’kay?” Archer glances at her, then turns around and continues his crawling tour.

Frankie scoots closer, pushing my legs apart, so she can kneel in between them.

Taking ahold of my face, she looks at me with a serious expression.

“Ben, you’re not your father. You don’t have mood swings; you’re not unbalanced. You’re normal.” She smiles. “Or at least as normal as anyone living in this house can be. Please, stop worrying. Okay?” She strokes my face with her thumb.

I wish it would be so easy—to forget the fact that my father has spent most of his adult life in mental institutions. To stop wondering if the same thing would happen to me if Frankie left and took Archer with her.

“Ben?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Let’s go hang out with the others. No need to let this ruin the day.”

She purses her lips, skepticism written all over her face, but then relents. She gives me a quick kiss, before she turns to Archer.

“Momma’s gonna catch you.” Archer giggles when she starts crawling after him and he tries to get away, moving faster.

“Go, Archer, go.” I laugh. “One more round and your momma will be out of breath.”

Frankie stops and turns back to give me a mock glare. “Ass.”

“Yeah, I have a great one,” I joke, amazed how quickly Archer and Frankie can lighten my mood. But some of the bitter taste still lingers in my mouth after the phone call.

***

Back downstairs, Dave and I decide to take Archer for a walk. Bundling him up tight, I put him in his stroller. He looks like a humongous marshmallow with his puffy jacket and pants.

Frankie bounds over, first kissing Archer’s cheek and then leaning into me. She stands up on her tip toes, pulling my face down.

“Don’t be too long. We still didn’t ring in the New Year.” A devilish smile crosses her face and then she gently touches her lips to mine.

I swallow hard and take a deep breath. “You’re such a tease, babe.”

“No, I’m not. Unlike a tease, I do let you in my pants.” Tilting her head, she runs her tongue suggestively over her upper lip.

“Seriously?” Dave butts in, a disgusted look on his face.

“Oh, are you sad ’cause no one wants to play with what’s in your pants?” Frankie shoots back. “You have to understand. They’re just scared of the itch following that adventure.”

Dave growls at her, turning to me when he hears me chuckle.

I push him toward the door. “Let’s go, man. I have places to be later.”

Once outside, we take off toward the woods. It’s cold as hell, snow is covering the ground and I would bet my ass it’ll snow again. Archer doesn’t seem to mind. He looks around, taking in what’s happening around him—which to be honest is nothing. Everyone is sleeping off their New Year’s Eve.

“So when are you going to tell your parents you dropped out?”

“When I get back, I guess.” Dave sighs. “It’ll be a pain in the ass. They are so dramatic, although Frankie has been catching the brunt of it for the past few years. You think she’d come with me and tell them? It’d be perfect. They’d probably blame her.”

“What is that all about anyway? They were complete dickheads over Thanksgiving, more than usual.”

Dave shrugs, resignation written all over his face. “You know it started back when she was a teenager and found her inner sarcastic bitch. But when she came home to announce her pregnancy, things went completely down the drain. I’m sure Mary Magdalene had it easier in comparison.”

“Maybe I should talk to them, take some of the heat off her?” I consider it a good idea for the whole five seconds before Dave answers.

“You like your balls, man? And your dick? If so, don’t even think about having that talk or you’ll lose them both. They are still pissed at you, although now mainly because you are a shitty son and you haven’t made an honest woman out of my sister.”

At my pointed look, he adds, “Their words, not mine. You’d think you left them behind and not your mom and my sister. Frankie and your mom have dealt better with it than my parents.”

As his words register, I stop short. “You talk to my mom?”

Instantly, worry seeps into my pores together with the cold. I’m hoping he doesn’t talk to her about me, the things we’ve talked about since I came back.

“Well, of course.” His head is shaking with bewilderment at my question. “Our parents are friends—although why your parents would hang out with mine is beyond me. Besides, I hang out at the bed and breakfast at least once a week to have dinner with them.”

“What?” I’m ready to pummel his face, the air coming out of my lungs in short bursts, like a bull ready to attack.

“Hey, your beef with your mom is your thing. She’s been barely holding it together since you left.” He lifts his hand when he sees I’m about to say something. “Just as I stayed out of your relationship with my sister, I won’t get in the middle of this. It seems to cheer them up when I come around. And hey, who wouldn’t be happy to see me. I’m not going to choose. I don’t tell them anything about you, just as I don’t ask any questions about their side of the story. I’m just there for them.”

“They lied to me. Hid that Ron is not my dad,” I seethe.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, get over yourself. He was your dad for over twenty years, whether you like it or not.”

Anger rolls through me as Dave takes their side. “He pretended to be my dad, while my real dad was picking up the fucking pieces of his life—considering where he is, they are still missing. They robbed him of being a father; they robbed me of my dad, and then lied to me.”

I walk faster, trying to keep the anger under control before I lash out at Dave even worse and scare Archer. The little guy seems oblivious to the heated argument. Judging by his kicking feet and giggling, he seems to think it’s all great fun.

“I’m not saying they haven’t. But it doesn’t mean you have to dismiss all the good stuff they did, all the good memories you have. You’re not just hurting them with it, but yourself, too.”

“What’s with the damn pop psychology?” I grind out, squeezing the stroller bar until my fingers hurt.

“Man, I’m just trying to help. There are no winners in this, you know. You feel shitty, your mom and Ron feel shitty.” He shrugs, putting an emphasis on Ron’s name when he says it. “You need to figure out how to let go of this shit.”

“Funny, getting this advice from the guy who doesn’t have the balls to tell his own parents he dropped out of school.” Sure, my retort might be an asshole move, but he has no clue what the past couple years have been like for me.

Dave nods his head in agreement. “Point taken. Although my reluctance to talk to my parents doesn’t affect how I feel. I’m just going with the flow. You, on the other hand, are swimming against the current, not really getting anywhere. If you don’t fucking work through this shit, it’ll pull you under, and you better not take my sister and Archer with you.”

“It’s fucking easy for you to say, Dave.” I grind my teeth, trying not to take out my frustration on him. I get his point, I see where he’s coming from, but it’s not that simple. I wish it was.

“Then why make it even harder?” he asks matter-of-factly. “And don’t worry, your mom won’t show up here. My mom gave her the address and phone number, but she said she won’t ambush you. Not after the failed phone call. She doesn’t want to force you to talk to her, no matter how much it destroys her. Said she’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“She’ll be waiting a long fucking time then.”

Catching my breath, I stop and take Archer out of his stroller. “Want to walk with your daddy?” I adjust his hat and after giving him a quick kiss on the forehead, I set his feet down on the ground, holding onto his hands. He starts moving his feet so quickly he barely manages to put one in front of the other—eager to walk around.

“Can we talk about something other than my fucked-up family?” I ask Dave, hoping we can change the topic before I follow the urge to punch him in the face.

Pushing the stroller, he starts smirking. “How about you tell me more about Viv?”

“You’ve got the hots for her?”

“You can’t blame me. She’s hot.”

“So is fire and yet you wouldn’t stick your dick in it,” I say laughing until Dave hits me upside the head.

“Not much to tell you, to be honest. She might be vocal about many things, but when it comes to her personal life, she’s private.”

“Hmm, I wonder if she’s vocal in the bedroom too. I’d bet she is.”

“Wouldn’t know.”

“Too bad I’m leaving tomorrow morning. I’d love to find out.”

“I bet you would.” I laugh, scooping Archer up into my arms and setting him on my shoulders to relieve my back from the bent over position of helping him walk. Holding on to his hands, I turn so we can make our way home before he gets too cold. Looking up at my son, I grin, “Your uncle Dave is trouble. Never let him teach you anything, Archer.”

Slapping my back, Dave retorts, “Yeah, because your daddy lived like a monk.”

***

Frankie is already asleep and so is Archer, both of them snoozing happily in our room. I tried to fall asleep, but have finally given up, the phone call with my dad and the conversation with Dave running amok in my mind. I just don’t know how to reconcile my good memories from my childhood with the fact that I shared them with people who have ruined a man’s life. It’s moments like this that I miss my evenings with a bottle of whiskey. At least then I could stop worrying and obsessing about all the shit in my life.