Read The Space in Between Online

Authors: Melyssa Winchester

The Space in Between (16 page)

“Now I know there’s something on your mind. It’s been at least a year since you snapped at me like that. I was starting to think I would never have the pleasure of hearing it again.”

He’s making light of my attitude, trying to make it seem like I’m not being a total brat right now, but where that should be enough to smarten me up, it seems to only make me worse.

“You’re never here, alright? I mean, if you’re not texting me and saying you’ve got some case that just needs every damn second of your attention, you’re telling me that I’m on my own for dinner. Sorry if that messes with the pretty picture you painted about living here.”

Crossing the room and lowering himself into the recliner, he crosses his arms and leans forward, his expression not stern or angry the way I expect with the way I’m acting, but actually focused and what I think is open for discussion.

That’s a first.

“How long have you been feeling this way?”

“Please don’t treat me like a suspect. Don’t interrogate me.”

“I’m not, son. I’m trying to understand. Hear you out, which according to you, I haven’t been around enough lately to do.”

Who is this guy and what did he do with the real Nick Cayne?

“Since we got here? I don’t know, a few months? But it was like this before we left Port Hope too. It’s been going on for a while now, Dad.”

“So why haven’t you said anything before?”

“I would have, but you know, you’d have to be home for longer than a shower to be able to.”

“That’s fair.”

I want to be able to speak up and tell him that he’s been like this since mom died, but with as happy as he seemed to be when he came in, not to mention how relaxed, I know I can’t do it. As long as I’ve been holding back, I might as well keep it going a little longer. It’s what’s best for everyone.

“I know I’ve been caught up at work and out a lot with Rosie when I do have the time off. I just figured with as old as you are now, you’d rather have a root canal than hang out with your old man.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“Evidently.”

“I know everything you’re doing is for me. I’m not an idiot, but before we moved, we actually had guy’s nights. Poker, movies, karaoke, it didn’t matter what we were doing, because we were doing it together. It made it a lot easier not to miss her every damn second when we were doing other shit.”

It’s the first time I’ve mentioned her since we moved and it’s a risk even doing it in the small way I am now. I know how he felt about her, how even now I’m positive he still misses her like he would miss air to breathe if it was gone, but I need to get my point across somehow, even if it means using the truth about the way things were then.

I already lost one parent. I’m not looking to lose another.

“Then it’s settled. Once a week, we call a time out on life and start hanging out again.”

Can it really be that easy? I say the way I’m feeling and he admits he’s wrong and we get back to the way it should be?

“You mean it?”

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t. I meant what I said, Chris. If I had known you were feeling this way for as long as you’re saying you have, I would have done whatever I could to change it. I’m aware that I wasn’t the only one who made the move, and that I let work and other stuff get in the way, forgetting about you. But that changes now.”

Relief.

That’s what I’m feeling right now.

I should have said something sooner.

“So what do you want for dinner?”

“Aren’t you going out?”

“I am, but the funny thing about these little gadgets you teens carry around like a lifeline. They can actually call other people, write words and have others read them at the press of the send button. If you want me to hang around for dinner, then that’s what I’m doing. In fact, it sounds like the perfect idea. You can tell me what you’ve been up to the last couple of days that’s been making you smile.”

Nope. No way. So much nope on that idea.

In as many years as we’ve been together on our own, we’ve never been the heart to heart type. I’m not looking to start now. Maybe he should just shower and go out like he planned.

“Nah, it’s alright. Go do what you planned. I can just order something in.”

“Chris, I’ve been thinking about that.” He says rising from the chair. “We’ve got more than enough food in the place now. Why not make yourself something to eat?”

“Okay, I wasn’t going to say anything, but who the hell are you and what have you done with my dad?” I joke. “Since when are you about cooking dinner?”

“Since now.”

I know what that means. It’s obvious with the way his face contorts into a crooked smile that a lot of the changes I’m seeing in him, this one especially, is because of the lady he’s been seeing. Rosie.  The single mom that with the way he looks sometimes when he thinks I’m not looking, is putting life back into someone I started to think was just as lost to the world as my mom.

“Tell Rosie I said thanks when you see her.”

“Yeah, Yeah.”

As he starts making his way out of the living room, what’s going to happen tonight hits me and I call out and stop him.

“Yeah, Chris?”

“That box in the closet. The puzzles you packed up and pretty much locked away without telling me, I was thinking of pulling a few out tonight. Is that alright?”

“Of course it is. I wasn’t hiding them. I just wasn’t sure how you felt about me keeping them given that it was your thing with your mom.”

Well, that answers that.

“I asked someone to come hang out and do them with me.”

“And this someone wouldn’t happen to be a girl, would it?”

“How astute of you, Dad. Yeah, it’s a girl.”

“And how serious is it with this girl?”

“Not sure, but if you say I can have her over while you’re out, I might be able to give you a better answer when you get home.”

“Chris, I know I don’t need to have this talk with you again, but having a girl over—”

“I know, Dad. Treat her with respect, make sure she’s home early, and no doing anything that would embarrass myself or you.”

“I knew I didn’t have to say it. I’m good if you want to have the girl over. Just remember the rules and clean up after yourself.”

Nodding with the promise that I understand and I’ll do everything he wants, I let him leave and the second he turns the corner and is completely out of visual range, I pull up my phone and just like before, seeing her texts, grin like an idiot and put words together like he said before hitting send.

My dad’s taking a shower and heading out. We’re good for six.

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Emery

 

“This sounded like such a good idea when I suggested it.” Christian admits, pounding his fist down on the table and making a bunch of the pieces on the table pop up into the air before scattering around us.

Leaning over his shoulder, seeing the perfect match to the front end of the boat he thought would be easy to do, and recognizing where it goes, I rub his shoulder before picking it up and pressing it down.

“How do you do that? Are you some sort of puzzle ninja?”

“Oh yeah. Didn’t I tell you?” I point to my chest. “Queen of Puzzles, 2011 to 2013.”

Attempting to choke back a laugh that somehow manages to escape in the form of a snort, I pick up another piece and figuring out exactly how it needs to sit and placing it, I plant a soft kiss on his cheek before heading back to my seat.

We’ve been doing this for a little over two hours now, and all we’ve got to show for it is the entire outline, plus the left hand side, which with the two pieces I just added, complete that portion.

Three cans of soda, two bags of popcorn and a whole lot of frustration and curse words have taken up the span of those two hours, and despite knowing that he probably regrets suggesting this idea, I’m enjoying myself.

“It doesn’t look this hard on the box.”

“It’s also a complete picture on the cover, so of course it looked easy.”

“Em, it’s a freaking boat. How hard can it be?”

“I don’t know. Take a look at the clumps of hair you’ve accumulated under your chair and tell me.”

“You hate this, right?”

About to stand up and make my way over to him again, I decide better of it and just lean over the table, reaching out with my hand and tipping his face up to meet mine.

“I love this. It’s like the first day we worked together all over again.”

“Very funny,” He pouts and determined to shake up his bad mood, especially if we plan on continuing with the puzzle, I pull my hand away, and bringing both to my mouth, jam both forefingers into the sides and pull it open, while rolling my eyes back into my head and attempting to talk through it, letting my tongue hang out.

Looking up and catching my obvious intent to act like a complete idiot in order to make him laugh, he rewards me two fold, first as his eyes go soft as he laughs, and then as he lifts himself out of the chair and over the table, planting a kiss on my still wide open mouth.

“Okay, okay. I get it. I need to chill.”

“Really? I never would have guessed.” I joke as he pulls back and focuses his attention back on the puzzle again, this time his features more relaxed. “There’s my polar bear.”

“You did not just compare me to a polar bear.”

“You’re right. I didn’t. I
called
you a polar bear. I can’t compare the two of you since polar bears are way more chill than you.”

“I think we should have started with something smaller.”

Call it all the time I spend hanging with Johnny, or just my mind being dirtier than most, but the way he means it and the way I take it are two totally different things. Trying to hold back and failing, the giggling starts, which added to the confused look he throws me once I do it, makes it worse, until it’s hard to breathe.

“Please—stop looking at me—like that.” I manage to get out before covering my face with my hands to try and gain control of my breathing.

“Looking at you like what? Like you’re a crazy person? Sorry, Ems, don’t think I can do that.”

Creating a slit of space between my fingers and sneaking a peak through proves detrimental to my ability to breathe when I catch him copying my look from earlier and making faces at me.

“Could you be any more red right now?”

“What? Tomato red happens to be the new peach.”

“You wanna try saying that again without having your hands muffling it?”

Lowering my hands and sucking in the deepest breath I can manage, I shake my head and look down at the puzzle in front of us.

We really should have done what he said and started with something smaller.

“Next time we do this, I think I’ll pick up a couple of 24 piece ones from the store.”

“I would totally rock it, but only if it’s Dora.”

“Mikey, don’t you know anything? Dora is so last year. It’s all about Elsa and Anna now.”

Shoving the puzzle across the table, he leans back in the chair and shakes his head emphatically. “You did not just bring Frozen into this.”

“Come on, Mikey! You gotta let whatever your issue is with Frozen go.”

Jumping out of the chair and making his way across the kitchen to the fridge, he opens the door to the freezer and grabs something out, using his arm to shut the door before placing it down on the counter.

“I don’t think I can be with you anymore.”

“Well good.” I play along. “Because I don’t think I can be with someone who doesn’t wanna build a snowman. I mean, you could learn a thing or two from Elsa.”

“Oh yeah? Care to share what I could possibly learn from a Disney character?”

“She’s as cold as ice, obviously. Forget what I said about you being my polar bear. If you could learn how to chill, you could totally be my Elsa.”

“Just what I aspire to be.” He grumbles more to himself than me. “Hot fudge or caramel?”

“That depends how it’s being used. Are we talking on you or with ice cream?”

This gets his attention. Turning away from his place at the counter, his eyes find mine and as expected, they’ve gone bug eyed. The only thing missing to complete the look of absolute surprise would be his mouth falling open.

“Is on me even an option?”

“Again, that depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you’ll be my Elsa or not, of course.”

“In that case, I’m talking about ice cream. Now, hot fudge or caramel?”

“Fudge, but for the record, you-are-no-fun. A fun ruiner is what you are.”

“I think I can handle that.”

Pulling the bottle of hot fudge down from the cupboard above his head and following it up by grabbing down two bowls, he tips it upside down and pours it into the bowl. Watching him work, he fills both bowls with three scoops of vanilla each before running the bottle of chocolate over the top again, grabbing out two spoons from the drawer before making his way over and placing it down in front of me.

“Dinner is served.”

“Best dinner ever.”

“I agree.”

Pulling the spoon out of the bowl and running it around the ice cream, pushing it down and moving it around until it begins to turn creamy, I take a scoop and slide it into my mouth, making sure as I do to close my eyes and moan in delight, which he rewards me for when he clears his throat.

“So does this mean puzzle night is over?” I ask once I’ve swallowed the freezing cold goodness, about to dive in for another scoop.

“Yeah, but only because I have a better idea.’

“I’m all ears.”

“Taking this to my room,” he points to the bowl in front of him. “And letting you go through my DVD collection, so we can spend the next few hours cuddling in bed.”

I’ve got no experience with first dates, but spending the night in bed seems kind of fast.

Oh, who am I kidding? It’s got nothing to do with being alone in his room without any adult supervision or even my lack of dating experience. It’s just fear, plain and simple.

I’m scared at the thought of being alone with Christian and what he might expect to happen. How far he’s thinking things are going to go tonight.

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