Authors: Amber Garza
EIGHTEEN
COLT
I
'm not the type of guy that spends much time getting dressed. I pretty much wear the same thing every day. Torn jeans and a t-shirt. Preferably black. My shoes are black Converse or boots. If it's cold I wear my leather jacket. And sometimes I even wear it when it's not cold. My jacket is the only possession I have that holds any meaning to me.
My dad and I have never been close at all. He's always just sort of been there, like background music in a movie. You know what I'm talking about, right? Like you always know it's there, but it's not the focal point. Well, that's my dad. But a few years ago, he surprised me. It was only one day, but it meant the world to me. He spent the entire day with me. He took me to lunch and then out shopping. The only thing he bought me was the black leather jacket.
There have been times when I wondered if that day was a dream or just a figment of my imagination. But then I look at my jacket, and there it is - proof.
Today is the first time in a long time that I actually care what I wear. I agonize over it, in fact, changing several times.
Funny that every time it's just a variation of the last outfit. It's just that I want to make a good impression on Paige's parents. Even though it seems unfathomable to me that they would actually like me, I find myself hoping they do. I suppose there's a slim chance they will if they're anything like their daughter.
Callie offers to give me a ride since Paige is working today. I don't want her to have to worry about picking me up after work, but I don't want to walk. The last thing I want is to be all sweaty when I show up.
After Callie drops me off, I turn around and watch her drive down the street. Zander's little face smiles back at me from the back seat. I flash him a thumbs up sign and then walk up to Paige's front door. I don't see Paige's car parked outside, and it makes me a little nervous. Hopefully she's just parked in the driveway or something.
I knock loudly and then step back, waiting. A minute later the door swings open and a middle aged woman with short golden hair answers the door. She has the same pert nose as Paige
, but her eye shape is more almond than round like Paige's. Her lips are heart shaped just like her daughter's. She smiles warmly and extends her hand. I notice that her face is a little pinched, her skin pale, and it makes me wonder how she's feeling.
"You must be Colt."
"Hi, Mrs. McAllistor." I shake her hand, hoping mine isn't too sweaty. "I know I'm a little early." Glancing around, I look for Paige.
"It's fine. Come in." Once I step inside she closes the door behind me, locking in the cool air conditioning. "I just sent Paige to the store for a couple of things I forgot, but she should be back any minute."
I follow her toward the kitchen. Right before we reach it, Mrs. McAllistor's body sways slightly and she reaches out to touch the wall.
"You okay?" I rush toward her, remembering that she started her chemo this week.
"Fine." Her voice is strained and she squeezes the bridge of her nose between her fingers.
I put my
arm around her shoulders. "Here, let me help you to the couch, and then I'll get you something to drink." Desperation surfaces, and I wish Paige or her dad were home.
"Thanks." Mrs.
McAllistor leans against me, allowing me to guide her forward. My heart is beating erratically as I head toward the family room with Paige's mom in my arms. This isn't how I imagined this going at all. As I help her onto the couch, she looks up at me with a conspiratorial look on her face. "Don't tell Paige about this, okay?"
I nod.
"I mean, I'm fine. Just a little headache, that's all."
"Okay." I hope she's telling the truth. "I'll just get you some water." Hurriedly, I race into the kitchen and open the fridge. It's filled with food
, and I stare at it in awe for a minute. Then I remember that I'm on a mission, and I scour it for bottled water. When I find one, I grab it and head back to Mrs. McAllistor.
Once she's drank half of it, she appears a little stronger. She forces a smile and then swings her legs out. "See? All better."
"You sure? Because if it's too much for you I can come back a different night."
"Nonsense."
She bats away my words. "We've been looking forward to getting to know you."
My heart lifts a little at her words. She seems just as genuine as Paige. And she hasn't
even batted an eye at my piercings and tattoos. It makes me believe her even more.
When she stands up, I move closer to her in case she needs assistance. She catches me and gently pats my cheek. "I can see why my daughter likes you so much. You're quite the gentleman."
I stare at her, dumbfounded. No one has ever said that to me before.
"Now, go ahead and have a seat and I'll go make dinner. Paige should be home any second."
"No. I'll help you."
"I couldn't ask you to do that. You're our guest."
"It's no problem. Really."
She eyes me.
"Hey." I lift one eyebrow. "You don't want me to tell Paige about your little episode, right?"
A slow smile spreads across her face.
"You drive a hard bargain. Okay, come on."
I walk behind her into the kitchen, grateful that she's letting me help. I can't stand the thought of her suffering through making me a meal. If she's ill she shouldn't be in here cooking. Besides, I know how much she means to Paige, and how devastated Paige would be if she knew her mom was feeling ill. The kitchen counters are littered with vegetables and pasta. I didn't notice it before because I was so focused on getting the water. When I scour the counter, I notice a cutting board with tomatoes, garlic and onion on top.
"I can cut those for you," I offer.
"Great. I'll get the pasta boiling." Mrs.
McAllistor ties an apron around her waist and then carries a large pot to the sink while I start cutting up a tomato.
"Diced?" I ask.
"Yes." She glances over at me, as I cut into the juicy tomato. After a series of quick strokes, the tomato is diced. "Wow, you do that really well."
"If I didn't know my way around the kitchen my little brother and I never would've eaten."
Her face falls and I wish I had kept my big mouth shut. Normally I'm not so flippant about sharing things. I'm shocked at how comfortable I am with this woman who is practically a stranger. However, something about her makes me feel at ease.
"I'm sorry, Colt." Her tone is so gentle, I have to turn away.
I cut through the tomato, the juices spilling out over my hand like blood.
"What's going on
?" Paige's voice rings out in the quiet kitchen. "Mom, you put him to work?" Even though her tone is more teasing than angry, I can tell she's a little bothered. She hoists a filled grocery bag up on the counter near her mom.
Mrs.
McAllistor glances over at me. Our eyes lock, a silent agreement.
I smile at Paige. "No, she didn't. I insisted."
"Oh." Paige gives me a funny look. "Well, you're our guest. You don't need to do this."
"I want to. C'mon. You can help me." I motion her forward with a slight roll of my fingers.
She grins while walking slowly in my direction. When she reaches me she leans over and quickly pecks me on my cheek. "You're so much sweeter than you want people to know," she whispers in my ear.
"Yeah, so keep it to yourself, okay?" I raise an eyebrow.
She runs her fingers across her lips like she's zipping them closed. "Your secret is safe with me." Then she picks up a knife and starts chopping up the onion while her mom rifles through the grocery bag Paige brought home. The kitchen is filled with the sound of water boiling and knifes thumping against cutting boards. Once we get things chopped Mrs. McAllistor throws some of the veggies onto a skillet, and pretty soon the scent of spices, onion and garlic permeate the room.
Paige stands right next to me as we chop, her elbow brushing against mine every once in awhile. She hums as she works
, and it's cute. Behind our backs I can hear Mrs. McAllistor stirring the vegetables on the stove. It all feels so cozy and warm, so different than anything I've encountered before. Like a real family.
The front door opens down the hall. "Honey, I'm home!"A male voice calls out.
Mrs. McAllistor chuckles. Paige rolls her eyes. "Well, here comes Ward Cleaver."
"Does he always say that
when he gets home?" I ask, peering down at Paige.
She shakes her head.
"Only when we have company."
Mr.
McAllistor enters the kitchen wearing a suit and tie, his salt and pepper hair neatly gelled. I marvel at how I can't even picture my dad wearing a suit. Then again, he would never have a reason to wear one with his lifestyle. Paige's dad glides effortlessly over the kitchen floor and sweeps her mom into a hug.
"How are you feeling, angel?" he asks, and his words cause my stomach to clench.
Do people really act this way in real life?
"Fine."
She forces a smile, but her gaze flickers to me momentarily.
Paige
flashes me a concerned look, but I just smile like nothing is wrong at all.
"Are you sure?" Paige's dad asks
his wife once more.
"Yes. But the food is going to burn if you don't let go of me," she responds, shooing him away.
Her dad's gaze sweeps the kitchen. "Looks like you've put everyone to work. About time."
Paige chuckles.
"Hey, Dad." She takes a step toward him, tugging on my arm. "This is Colt."
After kissing Paige on the top of her head, he walks toward me with one arm extended.
"Nice to meet you, Colt."
I wipe my hand on my jeans before shaking his hand.
"You too, sir."
"I'm going to run upstairs to change. See you in a few." As he heads out of the kitchen I resume my cutting. Righ
t now I'm grateful to have a job to fulfill so I can focus on it while my head is spinning with all kinds of crazy thoughts. Everything about tonight feels so surreal. Being here with this family makes me wish for the same thing. It makes me wonder. It makes me hope. And in my experience that's never a good thing.
Dinner is amazing, and afterward Mrs. McAllistor brings out a tray of cupcakes. They all have different colored icing perfectly swirled on top. The scent of sugar and sweetness makes my teeth ache. Even though I'm still full from the exorbitant amount of dinner I just consumed, I hungrily reach for a cupcake.
I choose the one with white icing and rainbow colored sprinkles. "This looks so
good, I almost hate to eat it."
"Then don't." Paige elbows me in the side.
"I said, ‘almost’." I take a huge bite and then wipe frosting from my mouth with a napkin.
"Paige decorated them." Mrs.
McAllistor leans forward from where she sits across from us at the dining table. Her hand is wrapped around a cup of tea. Mr. McAllistor sits next to her, his arm slung over her shoulders.
"Really?"
I turn to her.
She drops her gaze to her hands. "Yeah, it's
kinda my thing. Mom bakes and I decorate."
"They're incredible," I say honestly. "You two could open a cupcake shop."
Paige's head snaps up, a stunned look on her face. "We've talked about opening one."
"You should totally do it," I say reaching for a second cupcake. The frosting coats my fingers as I hold it in my palm. As I bite into the soft, moist cake
, I notice how quiet it's gotten at the table. At first I think it's because I'm making a fool of myself by pigging out like this. But when I look up at Paige's darkened expression and the moisture gathering in her eyes, I know it's something else. I glance over at her parents. They're faces are drawn, pensive. Paige's Mom is staring at Paige sadly.
What just happened?
"Um...can I be excused?" Paige's voice is soft.
Her mom nods. "You can both go. I'll clean up."'
Paige pushes away from the table and hurries out of the dining room, her head down. I nod to her parents and stand myself. As I step from the room I hear Mr.
McAllistor offer to clean up and tell his wife to go rest. This family seriously baffles me. There's so much love and selflessness between them.
"Paige?" I round the corner and enter the family room. She wipes her eyes and looks up at me. "What's going on?" Reaching out, I rest my hand on her shoulder.
"Nothing." She sighs. "I'm fine."
"
McAllistor." I groan. "When are you going to realize that you can't fool me that easily?"
Her gaze flickers to the dining room where her
parents voices can be heard. "Let's go sit outside. We can sit on the porch swing and talk."
"I was hoping you were going to say
lie on a hammock, but sitting on a porch swing will have to do." I flash her a teasing grin and the corners of her lips turn upward. Grabbing her hand, I thread my fingers through hers and help her stand up. Together we walk outside. The air is cooling down slightly and the sky is starting to darken. Roses line the porch and the sweet scent wafts under my nose.