We finish the remainder of the holes in silence. River grabs a frozen lemonade for himself and strawberry lemonade for me, then we head back to the car. The sun might be lower in the sky but it’s hot as hell now, and I’m feeling the weight of the warmth hang over my body like a blanket.
“Fucking hot as balls. Hate this place,” River complains as he blasts the air-conditioning in the car.
“No, you don’t.”
River sighs pitifully. “No. I don’t. I wish I did though.”
“I remember the feeling well.”
River smiles. “I suppose. Nothing like home?”
“Yeah,” I agree, earning me one of River’s happy grins.
“Swing by the coffee shop and I’ll cleanse you. Burn some rosemary. Do you still have the selenite in your room?”
I grin despite myself. “On my nightstand.”
“Good. It’s gonna be okay, Tuck.”
I’m starting to believe him. Maybe River’s woo-woo ways will rub off on me one day. He believes something, and manifests it, easy as that.
River drops me off at the house with a wave and a kissy face through the open window before he drives off. I head inside and am greeted with silence, and I see through the back windows that my parents are out on the back porch, their favorite place to be. I shower off the sweat and run irritated fingers through my still curly hair. I hate my hair. The blond curls make me look innocent and sweet, and it was something Anthony always loved. I miss being an impetuous teenager and dyeing my hair crazy colors. I missme. But I’m still swimming my way through who I was and how to find myself while letting that man go.
After I dry myself off, I dress in an old pair of jeans that somehow still fit perfectly, like my entire closet does. An old band T-shirt will have to do for tonight because it’s too hot for anything else, and I’m sure Dad and Pop’s guest won’t care what I’m wearing since I don’t plan on staying too long after dinner.
The kitchen is light with the glow of sunset, and the sound of waves crashing can be heard through the back doors that are open to the porch. Dad’s in the kitchen with a smile on hisface as he pours a glass of wine for him and a very familiar guest.
“Charles,” I say, not much of a question, but more in surprise.
Charles turns in the kitchen with a gentle smile, eyes crinkled at the corners. “Hey. I hope it’s okay?—”
“It’s fine,” I say abruptly, and Dad gives me a withering glare. I cough, then clear my throat awkwardly as they both stare at me. “I mean, it’s fine. I don’t want to be the reason a Sunday dinner stops.”
“All right,” Charles says softly.
I feel bad because he looks like a puppy that’s been kicked, but it’s whatever.
I shift from foot to foot, unsure of what to do, and just as I’m about to join Pop on the porch, Charles walks past me with his glass of wine and joins Pop outside. Just in time for Dad to turn around and send a look my way.
“We didn’t realize you’d already met him.”
“Sunrise,” I grumble, not really in the mood to get into the Hallmark movie of it all.
“You’re being a jerk,” Dad points out.
I sigh, because he’s right. “I know. Something about him sets me on edge.”
“Oh, yes, kind people have always done that to you.”
I grit my teeth and sit down at the island to watch Dad cook. I don’t use my phone much anymore because I’m constantly anxious about receiving a text message from Anthony. So, all I can do is sit and watch Dad, and now he’s irritated with me, so he’s quiet as well.
“It’s normal to be mean when you’re healing,” Dad says sometime later.
“I’m not healing.”
Dad just grunts and looks at me over his shoulder before pulling the pizza out of the oven. “You are, and you know it. You’re five years old all over again.”
Well, fuck.
